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galadrieljones · 4 years

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As You Were (Chapter 8)

Fandom: The Last of Us | Pairing: Joel x OC | Content: Fix-it | Rating: Mature

Masterpost

When Joel and Ellie take a wrong turn on their journey from Pittsburgh to Wyoming, they find themselves lost in what feels like a time warp: a beautiful place with a dark and dangerous secret, filled with painful reminders of the past. But they aren’t alone. When they meet Cici and Noah, a mother and son fighting tirelessly for survival, things change. For those with little hope to spare, family is what you make it.

This is an AU, starting after the events of the Summer chapter in the first game, and extending into the timeline of the second.

*cw: canon-typical violence, blood

Chapter 8: La Crosse (Pt. 2) / The Lapp Farm (Pt. 2)

"Jury's still out. But, man. You can't deny that view."

As Joel and Noah worked their way through the city, nothing much changed, at first. The buildings were empty. Many were boarded up, but not all of them. Little streams and creeks seemed to have broken through the bluffs, coming in off the La Crosse River and now flowed in skinny little ribbons in the empty lots and fields. Looking upon them was paradoxical, for the water was enticing in its visual clarity, but both Joel and Noah knew the truth. There was not much wildlife, and this brought into the world a worrisome quiet beyond the sound of the wind in the trees. The sun came down even still and brought color to the parking lots, all of them overgrown with tall grasses and ponds. The cordyceps in the water did not seem to affect the flora. It was a pretty place, Joel thought, despite its indifference toward human life.

As they crossed the city, Joel could tell they were getting closer to pure, raw nature, as the greenery thickened, and the buildings and houses became increasingly sunken by floods and overtaken by trees and their massive root systems. He knew from the map that the campus was more or less nestled within a great many bluffs, which rose up like grassy table tops, and the Mississippi was less than two miles to the west. Little purple flowers grew everywhere, and they started seeing mushrooms, too, growing on some of the blackened moldy walls of fallen structures, and so Joel and Noah did not get too close.

They just kept following the signs for the Circle of the Holy Signal, and headed straight toward Centennial Hall at the central campus. At times, Joel thought that perhaps he was being watched, through the windows in the residential neighborhoods, but this was hard to put his finger on. Even in the natural wreckage, there were so many houses, small and intact, lined up in rows across many blocks, that he consistently found himself wondering what could be inside. They found a German Shepherd recently dead by what appeared to be a gunshot wound, lying by the side of the road near a middle school. While they had been crouched low, trying to determine exactly how long ago it had been killed, another dog came up with its tail wagging. This one was some sort of lab mix, and it looked lost and starving as it sniffed at their hands excitedly. Joel scrubbed it behind the ears once and then reluctantly bid it to flee. They had nothing for it. This was a sad and desolate place.

After they had walked more than two miles, they started to see actual signs of the campus, which was promising as well as foreboding. School flags that had survived, still flapping off the street lights, and crimson banners for the football team. There were take-out restaurants and bars with their windows bashed in, some of them still advertising discounts for students as well as a UW Credit Union. They walked down Main Street for a while, passing many Lutheran churches, sometimes more than one on a single block. Some of the churches had been co-opted and hung with banners that read Worship Circle, another tell of their mystery cult. Those churches in particular were so overgrown with the mushroom, they looked like beautiful death flowers, and Joel bid them to put on their gas masks just for the time being, as he was worried about spore levels, even in the open air.

At some point, they came upon a school store. It still had mannequins in the window and the doors were locked up with a heavy chain. Joel stopped to look around and Noah leaned against a stop sign to drink some water.

“What’s your take on this place?” he said eventually. "Do you have any like, feelings about it?"

Joel was examining the chain around the door handles. “My take is, this might be a fool’s errand.” He had a small screwdriver and lock pick, given to him by Bill back in Lincoln. “But I have been known to make my fair share of foolish decisions over the years. Anyway, this town seems fairly dead.”

“We can go back,” said Noah. He was holding the water bottle, soaked in sweat from his dark hair to his red Converse. “We saw the church. Maybe there’s nothing else to see. Maybe it’s too dangerous.” He had a kicked look about him, like a puppy. Joel saw him for his age then—old enough to know a lot, but still too young to know much better. He had a lot of confidence and sometimes this could make him seem older, but he was still only seventeen.

“What do you wanna do?” said Joel. He popped the lock on the chain with considerable ingenuity. He was a little proud of himself. "I'm here to help you."

“I wanna keep going,” said Noah. “I wanna know what’s going on.”

“All right then,” said Joel. “Let’s get to Centennial Hall and see what we can find.”

“Okay,” said Noah, like he had been reenergized. “What are you doing?”

“I’m going inside,” said Joel, loosening the chain and letting it drop. It made a loud noise and he then used a piece of rebar to pry open the doors.

“Why?” said Noah.

“Because,” said Joel, letting the rebar clank to the concrete sidewalk. He wiped the sweat from his face and his beard. “There might be something in here I want.”

They went inside. It was surprisingly maintained. It even looked defended, as if somebody had taken up shop in there many years before. There were makeshift blockades in the front of the store and what looked to be a sizable nest in the employee’s lounge. From the looks of the posters on the wall, he guessed it had been college kids.

“It’s just paraphernalia, for the college,” said Noah. He was going through the aisles, looking at the clothes on the racks, the mugs and water bottles. “What would you want in here.”

“A souvenir,” said Joel. He went over to the women’s section. A huge piece of particle board had fallen from the ceiling. He hauled it away.

“For yourself?”

“No,” said Joel.

“For Ellie?”

Joel was scouring a rack of hooded sweatshirts. “She asked me to bring her something, as a trade-in for not letting her come along. Hey, does this look like her size?” He held one of them up, a faded crimson with the words UW - LA CROSSE stamped on front, in a sort of vintage font. He thought it seemed like something she'd wear.

“What size is it?” said Noah.

“Uh, a woman’s extra small.”

“Well, she’s pretty extra small. So, I’d say that’s a good bet.”

Joel gave him a look. “Come here,” he said. “Put this in your backpack.”

“What?” said Noah. “No. You put it in yours.”

“I don’t have room in mine. Your mom packed it with one too many bomb parts and radio frequency enhancement mumbo jumbo, and it’s already digging in my spine.”

“Fine,” said Noah, swiping the sweatshirt. He rolled it up tightly and shoved it in the front pocket. “For Ellie.” Then he zipped it shut and they looked around. He saw something funny, one gray tee-shirt folded neatly in a disorderly stack. He held it up and showed it to Joel. “What about this one, for you?”

It said: UW - La Crosse Dad.

Joel said, “Yeah, that’s real funny.”

“I thought so.”

They were alarmed then, by a loud and inhuman screech, some banging on the walls coming from a locked back room.

“Jesus,” said Joel, picking up his shotgun. Whatever it was, it was angry, but it was trapped. He thought it might have been one of the college kids who'd made a nest here, which saddened him.

“That’s the first one,” said Noah. “In the whole town. What does that mean?”

“It means we’re getting closer to the epicenter of whatever the hell is going on here,” said Joel. “We should keep moving.”

They left the store, left the infected to rot. It was blistering now in the high noon sun as they continued their journey. “What was that thing in the store, do you know?" said Noah, earnest. He had his shotgun in his hands, a heavy pistol stuffed in the back of his jeans. He had killed plenty of Infected in his life, but it was mostly runners.

“Sounded like a clicker,” said Joel. "Based on the looks of things around here, that is most likely what we'll be running into. Whatever happened, it’s been years.”

“Jesus fucking Christ,” said Noah. It was a common sentiment for him, but now, something had changed in his demeanor. He seemed desperate.

“What now."

“We lived for so long, on our farm,” said Noah. “It felt safe, growing up there, barely encountering any of this insane bullshit, until just this past year or so. But these people here, in the city, it looks like they went through something horrible, for such a long time. How can that be? How can they all be dead?”

“If I remember properly,” said Joel, “it took the cordyceps some months to take root in the midwest. Once they isolated the big cities, it was a slow trickle to the end, and smaller cities like this, once they got it, there wasn’t much support. They got it bad. Local militias rose up in their various…forms. I ain’t surprised you all managed to survive on your land for as long as you did, given how isolated you are, but I suppose that it was only a matter of time before it got to you, too, one way or another.”

“This is so sad,” said Noah as they looked around at their desolate surroundings. He was shaking his head over and over again like he could not believe it. “My mom was born in La Crosse. Her ancestors came here from Norway in like the 1890s. Look at it now.”

“What about your dad?”

“My dad was born in Madison,” he said. “His grandparents were Spanish immigrants.”

“Was his family farmers, too?”

"Yeah,” said Noah. They were walking along, kicking around in the middle of the road, all cracked up with weeds, listening to the wind. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“You’re from Texas,” he said. “What about your parents?”

“My parents were also from Texas,” said Joel. “My grandparents, too.”

“Where in Texas?”

“A town called Odessa.”

“Have you ever been married?” said Noah.

Joel was looking up at the sky now. There were some carrion birds up there, circling. A bad omen. “What?” he said.

“I asked if you’ve ever been married.”

“Why would you wanna know that?”

“I’m just curious,” said Noah.

Joel sighed and gave in. “Yes, I have been married.”

“When?”

“A long time ago.”

“What happened?” said Noah.

“It didn’t work out.”

“I see,” said Noah, sensing his unease. “What’s your last name?”

“My last name?” said Joel.

“Yeah,” said Noah, innocent. But then he also noticed the birds. Their conversation dropped off a cliff. “Holy shit,” he said. “You see that?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Those are turkey vultures.” He was chewing on a stick, something he’d picked up off the ground. “They nest all over these bluffs.”

“Yeah, well,” said Joel. “Looks like they found something. Come on.”

Meanwhile, at the Lapp farmhouse, Ellie had wandered over to the bottom of the stairs. They were heavy and a dark wood. Everything about the house seemed really sturdy, but it also seemed really old. Things creaked and there were occasional dips in the flooring. “I think she’s upstairs,” she said. She thought she’d heard movement now from the floor above. But she wouldn’t call out Becky’s name, because it seemed like it might not be her place. She was a stranger here.

“Becky?” said Danielle.

"Hang on,” said Cici from the living room. She had redone her pony tail. It was high on her head now and twisted into a bun. “Looks like somebody’s coming to the backdoor.”

“What?” said Danielle. "Who?"

Concerned, Ellie came back into the kitchen space and placed her hand on the loom. Maybe she hadn’t heard anything after all. She glanced toward the stairs and then back to the door. There was a little window in the door, the shape of a semi-circle, and now a girl rushing up the steps, wearing a white dress and a little white kapp. She tried to get in, but it the door locked. She knocked several times, with urgency.

“Danielle?” said the girl. “Danielle, are you here?”

“Hey, is that Becky?” said Ellie.

“Becky,” said Danielle.

She went to the door, opened it quickly. Becky came inside, her small, pink hands on the slope of her pregnant belly. Her hair was very orange, almost striking. When she looked around and Saw Cici, then Ellie, she became alarmed. “Cici?” she said. “What’s going on?”

“Everything’s okay,” said Danielle. “Where’d you go?”

“I woke up, and you were gone. I went outside. I looked everywhere.”

“I found one of the sick in the barn,” said Danielle. She helped Becky to the kitchen table, where the two of them sat down. Becky seemed out of breath. “I went to find Cici and Noah to help.”

“Oh,” she said, relieved. “Goodness. I was so worried.”

“I’m gonna take care of the runner in the barn,” said Cici.

“Runner?” said Becky.

“She means the sick,” said Danielle.

“Oh,” said Becky. “Right. Cici, how is Noah? It has been a long time since I last saw you.”

“Noah’s doing just fine,” said Cici. “Congratulations, by the way. On your blessing.”

“Oh,” said Becky, re-situating in the chair. “Thank you. We are so grateful.”

“This is Ellie,” said Danielle. She came over from the table and held Ellie’s hand. It was unexpected, but Ellie just went with it. Her hand was warm and clammy. The floor creaked where she stood. “What was your last name again, Ellie?”

“My last name?” said Ellie. She hadn’t spoke it in such a long time. She looked down at her hand, inside Danielle's hand. “It’s Williams, I guess. Ellie Williams.”

“Ellie is new to the farm.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” said Becky, fanning herself with her hand. “But you’re so young. Are you one of the ones from town?”

“No,” said Ellie, growing increasingly unsure of what she should say. “No. I’m here with—well, it’s kind of hard to explain.”

“You needn’t worry,” said Becky, so sweet, but strange. Her hair was like a pyre. Her cheeks, nose, and forehead were violently freckled and her eyes were very blue and misty. Like planets.

“What was that?” said Danielle. She had dropped Ellie’s hand and was now staring up at the ceiling. They all heard it then, the sounds upstairs. It was a loud thud, then some skittering like a giant rodent, and then a door slammed shut. Ellie felt a chill in her bones.

“Holy shit,” she said. She rushed back to the stairs, held onto the railing like a baseball bat, got up on her tip-toes to to see. “I knew I heard something.”

“I got it,” said Cici. “Ellie, stay here.”

“You can’t go by yourself. It’s one of them.”

Cici had drawn her pistol. Danielle was backing away, toward Becky, who sat very straight. They both looked pale, almost shocked, as birds. “It’s inside?” said Danielle. “How’d it get inside? I locked it in the barn. I used the chains.”

“I’m guessing it’s not the same one,” Cici said. “Just stay here, be very quiet. And Ellie, if you insist on coming, you keep behind me. Don’t do anything stupid.”

“Lead the way,” said Ellie.

Ellie didn’t have a gun. She’d left it in the truck. Still, she wasn’t scared. She had been through this now, so many times, with Joel. She knew what to do, and each of those fucking things she killed, since Tess, since Henry and Sam—since fucking Riley—she had recently decided: It was going to be vengeance. She wasn’t gonna take it anymore. On their way in from Pittsburg, she and Joel had stopped at a rest stop oasis in Ohio, foraged some food from a huge gas station there on the side of the freeway. She fell asleep, leaning against one of the shelves while Joel gassed up the truck, and she had a nightmare in which she saw Joel just standing in the hotel back in Pittsburg, water up to his knees, a bite mark in his hand. He told her he was going to take his own life and then instructed her calmly upon how to get to Wyoming. Take the I-80, he had said. He said it over and over again. She woke up unnerved. She had been clenching her jaw so that her teeth felt jagged. She never told him about the dream, but it, along with so much else, had changed her.

When she and Cici got upstairs, it was just a simple hallway with three bedrooms. One at the end, and two on each side. Only the door at the end of the hallway was closed. Based on the sounds they were hearing, it was a runner in there, hiding, probably terrified. They went slowly. Ellie could tell that Cici was gonna try to keep things quiet. The walls were painted white and very clean. Ellie gazed upon the quilts which hung there, just like the ones she had seen downstairs. There was something special about them. The colors were plain. Red, white, and blue, and the purity of such reminded her of the American flag. As she stared at the quilt, she got lost as she so often did and failed to realize that, as they were focused on the room at the end of the hall and approaching it in silence, there was another runner, vibrating real quiet in the bedroom to their right.

“Oh my god,” said Ellie.

The thing rushed them. It happened so fast, like a straight line wind, and when it went for Cici, Ellie didn’t think. It was a girl runner and not so big so she whipped it back by the hair and stuck her knife in its throat, five or six times till it died. The blood was everywhere. It was on Ellie’s face, her shirt, her hands. The sound of its death was loud, and as she dropped it to the floor, the other one came through the door, gnashing and alive. Its screams were horrifying. Even as she no longer feared them outright, the Infected were fucking demons. Ellie tripped over the dead one trying to get away, and just as she did, Cici raised her gun and shot the thing in the head, twice, point blank. It went down like a fucking sack of bricks. Ellie was on her ass and out of breath.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” she said, shaking her head out like a dog. “Is that all of them?”

“Are you okay?” said Cici. She saw the blood. She hauled Ellie up and started searching her for marks.

“I’m fine,” said Ellie. “Are you?”

“Yeah, I’m okay,” said Cici, though she seemed unsettled. “We need to get the hell out of here.”

“What about Becky and Danielle?”

“They’re coming with us.”

“Cici?” said Danielle from the bottom of the stairs. “Ellie? Are you guys okay?”

“We’re fine,” Cici shouted down the stairs. “Just—just don’t come up here yet. It’s nothing you wanna see.”

Danielle said a prayer. She said, “Praise god that you came.”

Ellie tried wiping some of the blood off her face. It had gotten on her clothes, and she felt momentarily embarrassed. “What the fuck are we gonna do with these things?” she said. “We can’t just leave them here.” She looked at the quilt on the wall. It was a bloodied. Ellie was pissed off about this. She hoped they could just make another.

“Go downstairs,” said Cici. “I’ll wrap them in sheets and drag them outside.”

“I’m covered in fucking blood,” said Ellie. “I don’t want to freak them out.”

"They’ll understand,” said Cici. “We’ve been through this sort of thing before. Though the fuckers have never gotten in the house like this.”

“What do we do with the bodies?” said Ellie. “Burn them?”

“Yes,” said Cici. “There’s plenty of fuel. It won’t be too much work.”

She dragged the bodies out one by one. She then went over to the barn by herself while Ellie, Danielle, and Becky stood outside, by the truck, and waited. Cici lured the thing out and blew it to shreds with a pipe bomb. They doused the bodies with gasoline from a canister in the shed by the garden and set them on fire in the pit at the back of the property. Then, they all drove back to the scrapyard, and though they didn’t go inside, Ellie did see rows and rows of school busses, exactly like Noah had said. Cici got out, used a rubber hose to syphon several gas cans full of fuel for the generator, and then together they all drove back to the farm on the other side of the hill where they would be safe behind the electric fence.

Back in La Crosse, Noah and Joel had found the detritus that had been drawing the turkey vultures from the bluffs. It was a clicker, facedown with parts of its neck ripped out. Could've been dogs, or maybe its own kind.

"Centennial Hall," said Noah, once they got there.

"There it is," said Joel.

The building was straight ahead of them. It was tall, red brick, stately in its prime with massive pillars and a clocktower. Of late, it had been devoured whole by vines robust as ankle tendons. The clocktower was plagued by black scorch marks, too, and the grass surrounding was probably waist-high. There were no more signs, no banners or flags. The building seemed deeply haunted, with the wind whistling through its veins. The clouds were big on the horizon. Joel feared a storm.

He was getting that feeling again, too, like they were being watched. "Noah," he said.

But Noah was already headed to the clicker, the dead one, splayed out in the middle of the road. He threw a rock at one of the vultures, which had been picking at its clothes unscrupulously, and the thing hissed back to the skies. Noah crouched down to get a better look. He hadn't seen an actual clicker since the last time he was here, since his dad.

"Noah," said Joel, surveying the quaint and rural atmosphere. Something was not right.

"It's okay," said Noah.

But it wasn't okay. Joel had seen it first, the thing that was set to change them. The clicker wasn't dead. It flopped over onto its back, surprising Noah and sending him off-balance. He stumbled as it screeched its terrible song, and its face, up close, was like a demon. Joel was there before he had the space to react. He pulled the trigger on his shotgun, close enough so that its head seemed to explode off its shoulders. It went down. Joel grabbed Noah by the collar and looked him over good. He said, "Noah. Noah. You okay?"

Noah thought about losing his guts, keeling over in the street. It had been some kind of event, and he had never been that close before. "I'm fine," he said, exhilarated. "I'm okay."

"Thank Jesus."

They decided to ascend the clocktower after that. It was the highest point they could see, and it seemed a safe place for to find their respite, for now. They climbed a bunch of narrow, spiral stairs and then a ladder, and a lot of it was rotted or rusted, but they made it okay. When they got to the top, it was a small space with a window and a circuit breaker, an old empty bottle of booze but that was all. They looked out over the burnt-out college campus, how it had gone to seed and lost its innocence. They saw the clouds, too, gathering in the north, looking like a definite storm now, moving south with some speed, straight for them and for Viroqua thereafter. Leaning heavily with their backs against the wall, they caught their breath, and then Joel took the two-way radio out of his back-pack. He hooked up the repeater, something Noah's dad had rigged up a long time ago to help them extend the range of the frequency.

"We should radio your mom," he said, "before we head inside the hall. I don't know if it'll work. But on the off chance it does, we should let her and Ellie know we're okay."

Noah was in agreement, even as he spoke little. Joel found the channel and commenced his talking in the radio. Sylvia Plath, he said, loud and clear. Sylvia Plath, do you copy? This is Ryan Adams. We are okay. Sylvia Plath. Do you copy? Do you copy?

#the last of us #the last of us 2 #tlou #tlou2 #joel the last of us #ellie the last of us #as you were #joel miller #ellie williams

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anagentinwriting · 5 years

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Subscribe - Part 9

Summary: (Modern AU) Peter was your college sweetheart until a certain event led to your break up. Seven years later another event brings you two back together, but this time a little girl is in the picture. Will listening to your podcasts be the reason you two get back together or be another reason to keep you apart?

Pairing: Peter Quill x Reader

Word Count: 2287

Warnings: Swearing, Fluff

Subscribe Masterlist / Main Masterlist

AN: Flashbacks in italics ________

Returning to work felt like a breath of fresh air. It was the start of a new work week, and you couldn’t be more excited. As you got to work figuring out topics for next week’s podcast episode, you couldn’t get the image of Peter and Mer together out of your head.

You were busy preparing lunch when there was a knock at the front door. “Mer could you get the door. My hands are a little tied up at the moment,” you called from the kitchen.

“Coming,” she shouted from upstairs in her bedroom. You knew who was at the door, but you wanted to see Meredith's reaction.

You wiped your hands on a towel as you walked into the doorway of the kitchen and entryway. She pulled open the door, and Peter was kneeling to her level. “Hey Twig, I heard you missed me,” Peter winked at the little girl.

“Daddy,” she shouted, running into his arms. Peter lifted her off the ground, holding her tight. You grinned at them, and when Peter set her down, he nodded at you. “How long are you staying?”

“As long as you’ll have me,” he smiled down at her.

“Then you are joining us for lunch. Come on!” She grabbed his hand and pulled him inside. “Mommy is making my favorite, spaghetti, and meatballs. You are going to love it.”

“Can’t wait to try it,” he grinned a playful smile at her as she continued to pull him along. Peter made eye contact with you and mouthed, “so much energy!”

“I know,” you mouthed back with a warm smile.

You couldn't help but smile at the memory. Peter and Meredith's exchanges were too cute to forget. There were times they would talk about a certain subject they both loved, and it could go on for hours. You didn't want to be the one to interrupt, so you sat back and listened to their rambles. Meredith’s smile seemed to shine a bit brighter, and Peter was to thank for that. There was also this twinkle in her eye, almost like she was planning something, but you couldn’t figure out what it was. It was important for Meredith to have her dad in her life, but you didn't realize maybe Peter needed his daughter in his life, too.

When you got your head on straight and refocused on work. You opened up your email and the podcast Instagram seeing many unanswered messages. Most of them were from fans sending you get well soon messages. You loved your fans because they were so supportive of what you, Wanda, and Pepper were trying to create. You sent each of them a personal thank you and informed them when the next episode would be available. You owe everything to the fans because without them Everyday's a Monday wouldn’t have become as successful as it has. As the end of the day approached, you and Wanda snapped a quick picture together and posted it with the caption: ‘Reunited and it feels so good.'

The following day, everything was moving along smoothly, and the schedule you made with Peter couldn’t have worked better. When you went to pick up Mer from the studio the other day, you could tell she was having a great time with not only Peter but his friend Bucky, too.

You walked into the studio for the first time and it was something else. It had posters of their latest bands becoming a success and a small newspaper clipping of Peter and Bucky buying the building. You chuckled to yourself as you walked up to the receptionist desk.

“Hello, I am Mantis, what can I do for you today?” She asked with a forced smile.

“I’m here to pick up Meredith.”

“Oh, you're Meredith’s mommy. She is so cute. She makes me want to die.” Mantis's smile widened no longer looking forced. “They’re in the recording studio to the right and straight back.”

“Thanks, Mantis. It was nice meeting you.”

You walked to the back room hearing a female’s voice singing over the speakers. She sounded good, like really good. You stood towards the back of the room and listened. Bucky and Mer sat at the soundboard with Peter standing between them. No one was singing in the booth so you figured they were listening to a demo to see how they could improve it. They were having mumbled conversations with each other while adjusting marks on the board. They added in more bass, got rid of the unnecessary background noise, and added in backup vocals. Bucky leaned back in their chairs, seeming satisfied but you hated it.

“What do you think about the girl from Queens, Mer?” Bucky asked, glancing at her.

“Um...” She thought it over listening to the song once more. “It doesn’t sound good.”

“You’re right, it sounds like shit.”

“Bucky, what the heck man? Sensitive ears in the room,” Peter replied, covering his hands over Mer’s ears. He shook his head at Bucky, making Mer laugh and take his hands off her ears.

“What do you think we should do Mer?”

“Leave it as it was,” Mer stated. "Get rid of all that mumbo jumbo stuff you added in."

“So, what you’re saying, is this young lady has the perfect voice and doesn’t need any help from us?” Bucky questioned, staring at the little girl.

“Yes.”

“Wow.” Bucky nodded, tossing his pencil on the soundboard. He put his hands behind his head and leaned back in his seat. “You hurt my feelings a little bit, Mer.”

“I’m sorry, but not everyone’s voice needs fixing. I mean there are some areas where she wasn’t perfect, but sometimes flaws help people stand out, Uncle Bucky.”

“Oooh, she just called you Uncle Bucky,” Peter commented, readjusting the soundboard.

“Dang kid, I don’t think I could ever stay mad at you,” he grinned at her. “And you’re right. She has a great voice, and her flaws will make her unique. What do you think we should do next?”

“Listen to her in person?” Meredith questioned, unsure of herself.

“Dang Quill, you have one smart daughter.”

“She gets it from her mother.”

“Yeah, she does,” you agreed, making yourself known as all three of them turn around.

“How long have you been standing there?” Bucky asked, crossing his arms.

“Long enough to know you swore in front of my daughter,” you smirked, forcing Bucky’s smirk to shift into a tight line. “Who french braided your hair, Mer? It looks so good!”

“Daddy did,” she squeaked out, shooting you a toothy grin.

“Your dad was always good with his hands,” you blurted out, feeling heat rush to your face. Your eyes widened, watching Bucky shaking in his chair to keep his laugh hidden while Peter smirked at the floor, raising his eyebrows. You cleared your throat, “ready to go, Mer?”

“Yes. Goodbye, Daddy.” She reached over to hug Peter. “Bye, Uncle Bucky,” she said, turning around and hugging him, too.

“See you guys tomorrow,” you waved, walking back to the entrance.

You sat at your desk researching some new product ideas, and information about different sippy cups. It was going to be the topic for the coming episode. There were tons of them, and you tried to remember the brand you used with Mer, but it was escaping your mind.

“YN, we have a problem,” Pepper announced, rushing into your office with Wanda in tow.

“What’s the problem?”

“I'm not going to be able to go to New York this week.”

“What, why? What could be more important than expanding Potts of Honey? Everything's scheduled and ready to go. It’s a quick three-day trip.” Pepper nodded along as you continue to talk. “We have been planning this for weeks. The estate agents, developers, and toy companies are excited to meet with you.”

“I know, it’s just Morgan is getting her tonsils out, and Tony will be in Massachusetts giving a speech to the MIT students. Tony has had this planned for months, and he doesn’t want to back out on those kids. I want someone to be there with Morgan. I don’t want her going through all this by herself, and if I have to back out of this trip then so be it.”

“I understand more than anyone, but where do we go from here? These properties might get sold to the next highest bidder, and these places took us months to find.”

“I came to the same conclusion. How are we going to do this?” Pepper asked, pacing back and forth. “Well, I could…”

“No, no. You’re going to be there for Morgan,” you interrupted her, making her crack a smile. Pepper has always loved how you put family before the company, and it’s one of the reasons why she picked you for this job so many years ago. “How about this, me and Wanda go.”

“I can’t ask you to do that with everything you've been through these last couple weeks. Wanda's life is busy enough with the twins. I can’t make you two do this.”

“You’re not, I’m volunteering.”

“Me too,” Wanda agreed.

“Besides, this is our best chance at finally expanding this company into another facility. We found some of the best locations after months of research and now is the best time for this to happen. Plus, it would bring jobs into this new community and help out moms in need like we did here in Malibu. And we could snatch up more listeners with our podcasts.”

“How do you plan on doing that?”

“I know of one dedicated listener in the New York City area, who has been with us since the beginning, and I know she would make the perfect guest for our next episode. She’s a stay at home mom with three kids, and her husband travels for his job. We could do the episode while we’re in New York.”

“I don’t know. It’s a three-day trip. I can’t ask you to leave Meredith and Wanda with her twins.”

“So what! It will be good for Vis to watch the kids by himself for a few days, and I am sure YN could find someone to watch Meredith.” She wiggled her eyebrows at you.

“You sure about this?” Pepper asked as you both nodded. “YN, you know what I’m looking for with this new facility, and if you have any questions don’t hesitate to call.”

“I know, I’ve been with you since the beginning. You like what I like,” you said.

“This is true.” She nodded. “Okay, good, everything's good to go. I’ll owe you two big time for this.” She added before walking out of the room.

“Yes, we get to go to New York,” Wanda cheered, making you roll your eyes. “I am going to call Vis, and you should call your man. I bet he would love to watch Meredith for you,” she smiled, leaving the room.

Wanda wasn’t wrong. You knew Gamora would be too busy, and it would be asking a lot with everything she did for you while you were in the hospital. Could ask Nebula, but she is still out of town, and you didn’t want to drag her back home for a three-day trip. This left Peter.

You weren't sure if Peter was ready to experience how taking care of a little girl for three straight days can wear a person out. This would be over a weekend, so he would have to keep her entertained. And you still had to get in touch with Laura to make sure she was okay with being on the podcast. You leave in two days, so here’s hoping you could get it all sorted out by then.

It was a little past two, and you were able to get ahold of Laura, and she was more than happy to do an episode on her farm. She was pretty excited about it, and you were ready to hear her story. Pepper convinced Tony to let us take his second private jet, which was convenient and exciting. Now all you had left to do was call Peter. You clicked on his name in your phone and listened to the line ring. You thought it would go to voicemail, but then he picked up.

“Hello, YN. Hello, are you there?” Peter answered with noise blaring in the background.

“Hey, Peter.”

“Can you hang on for a second? I need to get to a quieter room.” You hummed in response, and soon, the noise faded away. “So, what’s up? Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Never better. Listen, I have a favor to ask you.”

“Ask away.”

“This is short notice, but I have to go to New York for work on Thursday, and I won’t be back until Sunday. Any chance you would be available to watch Mer those days?” You didn’t hear anything on the other line, so you continued. “I’ll understand if you can’t because it's last minute. My boss, Pepper, her daughter needs to get surgery, and…”

“I’ll do it.”

“Wait, you will,” you replied, shocking yourself with his words.

“Of course. I'll have to move some things around, but it shouldn't be a problem. Besides, I know how important this job is to you.”

“Thank you. You have no idea how much I appreciate this.”

“You’re welcome. I think you deserve a little vacation time anyways even if it is for work.”

You smirked at his words. “I have to get back to work, but I'll let you know what is happening when I pick up Mer tonight.”

“Perfect. I’ll see you then, YN.”

“Bye, Peter. Thank you again.” You hung up, unable to keep the smile off your face.

_______

AN: Their relationship seems to be going well so far, but will it last? Do you think Peter be able to survive three whole days with Meredith or do you think he will need some help? You all got to learn a bit more about Potts of Honey and what they do as a company. Let me tell yeah, it took forever to come up with that name..haha! Anyways, thanks for reading!

#peter quill #peter quill au #peter quill x reader #peter quill reader insert #peter quill image #Star-Lord #star lord x reader #star-lord au #marvel #marvel fanfic #Marvel AU #GotG #Guardians of the Galaxy #guardians of the galaxy vol 2 #Chris Pratt

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xxxgrianeatsendermitesxxx · 5 years

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We happy few Au

Part one

Tw: broken jaws, throttling, drug use, pill mention, drug mention

Grian was a little weird, the hermits could all agree on that. He was always so happy, even in his darkest moments. During the war he didn't frown a single time, Stress says she saw him frown for a split second but then he turned away for a second and was joyful again. Mumbo and Iskall never saw his smile falter at all during the building of Sahara, he did keep reaching for his face then stopping when he touched it. Iskall swears that he'd seen Grian take a little pink pill after that but Mumbo hadn't seen that so they shrugged it off. This was until Mumbo went to Grians base to fetch him, they were going to have a meeting with Iskall but the blonde had slept in.

He reached the area where Grians bed was and stopped in his tracks. Pink pill bottles scattered around the room, most of them empty with a half empty one sitting on a chest. There was a white mask on the wall, perfectly molded to fit Grian's face. Mumbo looked over at all of this, shocked. He saw a poster on the wall, a picture of a run down, destroyed town with the words 'Wellington Wells' in neon letters above it. Was that what the island had been like before they arrived? It couldn't be since the island seemed completely untouched, Grian must have got this from somewhere else. Mumbo carefully shook the blonde awake, shocked to see a frown on Grian face as he awoke. "Mmh..? Mumbo..? Wha's going on?"

"You're late for the meeting Grian, I came to wake you up." He smiled, surprisingly pleased to see Grian frown. The blonde groaned and grabbed the pill bottle by his bedside, popping one of the neon pink pills and smiling brightly. "Ahh...what a lovely day! Let's hop to it then Mumbo! Come on!" He hopped out of bed and grabbed Mumbo's arm, dragging him up into the air and towards the Sahara building.

When they got there, Iskall was waiting for them. He smiled as they landed, Mumbo noticed that not even Iskalls smiles where quite as wide as Grians. They had their meeting on marketing, they went over the nice normal advertising methods but then Grian clicked his fingers. "Oh! We could produce joy!" The other two looked at him in confusion, joy was an emotion wasn't it? What was Grian going on about? The blonde giggled at their confused expressions. "We could offer a free bottle with every purchase! Happiness is a choice after all!" Mumbo's eyes widened as he realised what Grian was referring to as 'joy', he brought his hand to his mouth, feeling overwhelming pity for his friend. "Grian...do you mean those little pills you take? The ones I saw you take this morning?" Iskall looked at him, realisation and confusing dancing on his face. Surely Grian couldn't be a druggie? "What are you on about Mumbo?" Grian laughed and patted Mumbo on the back, when did Grian get behind him? "That's right Mumbo! My lord you're so smart, the pink pills are joy! Weldone! I have the recipe for it so we could manufacture it! That's one thing Concorp doesn't sell!" Iskall and Mumbo shared a worried glance and Mumbo stood up, turning to face Grian. "Maybe we shouldn't, we don't exactly know the side effects...or even if its safe..."

Grian stopped in his tracks, recognition dawned on his face as he looked up at Mumbo. "Mumbo? Please don't tell me you're a downer old pal. That'd wouldn't be all too pleasant." He beamed up at the mustached fellow but his demeanor was hostile. Mumbo took a step back, slightly scared. "D-Downer? What's a downer?" Grian giggled, a shrill noise and took a step forwards. "A downer, someone of their joy. Are you off your joy Mumbo?" He tilted his head, the question seemed innocent enough and Grian looked completely friendly but Mumbo didn't trust it. Neither did Iskall, that's why he his in the bird room, he didn't have any weapons on him... Mumbo gulped and looked down at Grian with wide, terrified eyes. "I...I've never taken joy..?"

Suddenly hands were around Mumbo's neck, he wasn't the strongest so couldn't defend himself from the smaller males attack. Grian was choking Mumbo, preventing him from breathing. Iskall stayed deadly still, refusing to meet Mumbos eyes as his friends fought. The blonde giggled as he choked his friend, smiling brightly at him. "Aww come on Mumbo, don't be such a downer~" Grian wrestled the taller to the ground, sitting on his chest to keep him from moving. He pulled a pill bottle from his pocket, pouring a single pure pink pill onto his hand. "Come now old chap, open wide~" Mumbo shook his head, keeping his mouth firmly shut. Grian chuckled and punched him square in the jaw, beaming at him. "Don't be such a downer Mumbo, take your joy~!" Mumbo's mouth hung open, his jaw most likely broken as Grian dropped the pill in the held the mustached man's nose, forcing him to swallow.

The world suddenly got a lot brighter as an overwhelming wave of pure joy hit Mumbo like a brick. He smiled wider then he ever had before, in awe of how amazing the world was. Nothing could ever go wrong in this world, Mumbo was sure of it. The previous shooting pain he felt in his jaw was completely gone, he hadn't felt better then he did in that moment. He jamp up with Grians help and laughed with him, laughed about how stupid he had been, laughed about the brilliant idea Grian had had, laughed about how beautiful the world truly was. Mumbo beamed down at his tiny blonde pal, chuckling lightly. "Thank you Grian, another one of your many brilliant idea. We should certainly provide our dear friends with joy, let's build a lab right away!" The duo skipped of the find an unused corner of Sahara, completely forgetting about Iskall, who had been standing there behind the wall the while time. He breathed a sigh of relief about no being caught but was still shaken to his core. He had to tell the others, and he had to be quick.

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pinkevilbobdoesthings · 5 years

Text

So, yeah, this is where it gets pretty dark. There's references to abuse and some messed up stuff cause Trent Ikithon is an a-hole. I've been waiting for this chapter for a while and I hope you all liked it.

There should be one or two more chapters to this fic and then the epilogue.

So here it is the 5th chapter of ‘I Ship It’.

Jester planted herself face down of the couch and cried as soon as she got home. Everything was ruined and Jester didn’t know why. She was pretty sure that she didn’t do anything to trigger what happened, but maybe she did something to make it worse and she didn’t realize it.

Her roommate, Beau, came in for a second, looked at Jester, and immediately left. Twenty minutes later Beau returned with a pint of rocky road. “Here,” she said handing the ice cream and a spoon over to Jester. “If it’s about a boy, I don’t want to hear about it.”

“It’s Caleb. I think he hates me now,” Jester said wiping her eyes, but not moving up from where she lay.

Beau groaned. “I just said if it’s a boy, I didn’t -ugh, I’m not prepared for your heteronormative drama. Come on, move your feet.” She swatted at Jester’s legs until Jester lift them so Beau could sit down. “Now, not that I care, but what happened?”

Jester told Beau about the poster and Caleb’s reaction and how he yelled at her. “Yeah, he’s crazy and you gotta dump him.”

“We’re not dating, we’re just friends,” Jester said. Part of her wanted to date him, but he probably didn’t want to. Also, their school had a rule against undergrads dating professors.

“Yeah, still crazy and you still need to avoid him like the plague.”

Jester frowned and played with her ice cream. “I don’t know. I think he might be sick.”

“That doesn’t mean you have to put up with his garbage.” Beau patted Jester’s leg. “There’s better guys out there, I guess if you like guys . I mean they’ll still be dudes, but that’s probably better than nothing.”

“I guess,” Jester said, but she was still worried about Caleb.

Beau got up. “And, hey, if you suddenly have a bi awakening, I know some girls that will treat you right. Well, I know a girl that will treat you right, not Keg. Unless you want the night of life.”

“Beau!” Jester giggled.

Beau noogied Jester lightly. “Don’t worry so much. It will work out or some garbage like that.”

****

Nott was cooking. She liked to cook. Nobody liked to eat what she made, but that just meant that there was more for her to eat then. Caleb came in, grabbed Frumpking and went straight to his room without a word. A bad sign, but that didn’t necessarily mean anything. He might have just been tired.

She poked her head into Caleb’s room to find all of his blankets dumped on the floor and only his top sheet covered him. Her heart sank; it must have been a real bad day. Nott folded up the blankets and set up his laptop where Caleb could see it easily and turned on the third season of the Voyage of the MISTake since it was his favorite. A few minutes later, Nott presented a hot pocket and a fork to Caleb and waited to see what he would do with it.

Caleb grabbed and ate it failing the hot pocket test. If he was even slightly okay, he would have turned it upside down, tear off the bottom and only eat the filling. And if Caleb was actually doing good, he’d refuse to eat it all together. It was going to be pointless to talk to him for a while. Nott pressed a kiss on his forehead before leaving him alone in his room.

Nott finished making her dinner but her heart was no longer in it. Caleb hadn’t had a day that bad since leaving Soltryce. She had hoped that truly bad days were completely behind them, but it seemed they weren’t that lucky.

After a few episodes, Caleb left his room. “Hi Caleb,” Nott said softly and got up. Caleb clutched his cat closely and looked like the slightest puff of wind would crack him.

“I lost Jester,” Caleb whispered. “The head of the science department is onto me.”

“Oh, Caleb. What do you mean?”

“Jester hates me now. I’m terrible. And the head of the science department knows it.” Caleb sat down on the floor.

Nott brushed his hair out of his face. “I don’t think Jester knows how to hate. We’ll make it through this.”

“It’s worse than that,” Caleb said. “Ikithon is coming.”

“What do you mean Ikithon’s coming?” Nott’s pulse began to race. “When?”

Caleb stared down at the ground. “Next week to the university. Tuesday.”

Nott swore. They needed her at the antique store on Tuesday. There was no way she could skip. “Can you just stay home?”

“No, there’s meetings that require me and finals are coming soon,” Caleb said.

“Then get a restraining order.”

Caleb shook his head. “There’s not enough time to. I’m sorry I ruined everything.”

“No, you didn’t. You are the victim here.” But he didn’t believe her. He never did. “I’ll see what I can do.” She’d do anything for Caleb. If he’d just let her.

******

The subway was awkward. Jester didn’t know where to sit. For the past weeks, she always sat next to Caleb every Thursday. But after Tuesday, she wasn’t so certain. Caleb never went online after that and he didn’t text her either. She didn’t dare text him herself.

When Jester got on the train, Caleb briefly made eye contact with her with his bright blue eyes, but he looked away quickly. Jester sat in the back of the train for the first time.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket. She opened it to see a text from Caleb. -I’m sorry.- Jester stared at it not sure how to reply. It wasn’t okay, but she was glad that he was talking to her again.

-You deserve an explanation.- Caleb texted again. -And, if I don’t do it now, I won’t. Can you skip class today?-

-yes- Jester texted back. She’d just get notes from one of her classmates, maybe Calianna.

-Thank you. There’s a coffee shop on campus we can go to. I’ll treat.-

Under any other circumstance, Jester would have been beyond excited. This was the chance to skip class and spend time with a guy she was crazy about. Instead a heavy weight sat in her stomach. Beau told her to not give Caleb any of her time, but Jester couldn’t just ignore him. He needed her help, she knew he did. Or at least he needed somebody’s help and she was who he had.

They walked in silence to the coffee shop and placed their orders with barely a word spoken between them. On any other day, they would’ve been talking about what coffees Kristoff and Melody would’ve ordered and maybe played with a coffee shop AU, but there was just a quiet awkwardness instead. When they sat down, Caleb opened his laptop and showed it to Jester. It was a psychology article by Professor Ikithon. “Dancing with the Devil: A Study on the Impact of Abusive and Supportive Mentors,” she read out loud. The rest was just academic mumbo jumbo to her.

“Ja,” Caleb said. “That article might be Ikithon’s biggest claim to fame. But, I had looked up to him and his work before that. I was his,” he paused for a moment, “assistant at the time. I helped write that article and do the research.

“It was an in depth case study focusing on a young man known as Subject K. Subject K had a good upbringing and was healthy and mentally sound. At the beginning of the case study, he had recently lost both of his parents and an older gentleman with a good standing in the community agreed to be his mentor. But, the man, K’s mentor, was a sadist who delighted in breaking people mentally. The next year and a half for K would be best described as torture. All of his outside support networks were removed, he was gaslighted and manipulated, made to do terrible things, and eventually convinced that the only use he was to the world was to obey his mentor. At the height of this, K’s mentor rejected him, which left K in a deep depression and we have no recorded of what happened to K for three months. He disappeared.” Caleb spoke so clinically, but his hands were shaking. Jester wanted to comfort him, but she knew he’d just pull away.

“When he was found next, he had committed arson and burned down a barn. It had been abandoned so no living beings had been harmed. After that, Subject K was committed to a psychiatric ward. Three days later, he was released into the custody of a new mentor, according to the article. This new mentor treated K with kindness and worked to build him back up, and by all appearances, he was successful.”

Caleb lifted his coffee like he was going to take a drink of it, but he stopped himself. “It was controversial to say the least. Some claimed that Ikithon made it up. Others said that Ikithon should have intervened early on in the study. That if Ikithon knew this young man was being mistreated, he should have stopped it. It was a cruel study.”

“And you helped with it,” Jester said hoping he didn’t think she was judging him. It seemed like he already felt guilty for it, and he couldn’t have stood up to Ikithon about it. He was terrified of his old supervisor.

“I did.” Caleb stared at his coffee. “There were somethings that the article left out. The first and second mentors were actually the same person. It should be noted that the article painted his second behavior as kinder than it was. There was still a cruelty to it all. And it wasn’t the mentor’s treatment that made K better. The credit belongs to a dear friend who would fight monsters for him and K writing fanfics for his favorite show, The Voyage of the MISTake.”

Jester gasped. “You were Subject K?”

Caleb nodded sadly. “I had trusted Ikithon so much at first, but I guess I’m terrible judge of people.” He turned the coffee cup slowly in his hands. “It was Nott who helped me get out of Ikithon’s grasp. She made me realized that I was trapped. We met during the missing three months. I don’t remember much about those days except that she was there protecting me. Ikithon was so mad that I couldn’t remember, but he made it work in the narrative of the article.”

Jester wanted to say something or ask a question or comfort him or something. But nothing felt right or real enough to say.

“I know I’ve done terrible things and that Nott is more than I deserve and so are you,” Caleb said. “So I needed you to know that without a doubt that I’m weak and worthless, but that I liked the short time we were friends.” He got up and started to turn away.

Jester caught his hand. “How can you say that? You’re not weak. You survived. That has mean you’re strong.”

“Because if I was strong, I wouldn’t have let any of that happen. I would’ve seen through him and gotten away from him, but I didn’t. I let myself get trapped and now I’m trapped again.” Caleb looked at her his eyes shining with unshed tears. “He’s going to try something, I know it. And there’s nothing I can do to stop it.”

“What about Nott? Can she help?” Jester asked.

Caleb shook his head. “She works that day and she doesn’t know what he’s like. Nott just thinks he’s going to screw with me and that I’m going to avoid him, but it’s not that simple. He’s going to take me and there’s no avoiding it.” He gently took Jester’s hand and removed it from his hand. “Thank you for your friendship.” Softly, he kissed her on the cheek, leaving her too shocked to move, and left.

#widojest #critical role fan fiction #pinkevilbob writes #i hope the backstory reveal was worth the wait #and i hope you enjoy this chapter #i ship it

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