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fandom-blackhole · 1 year

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hi :3 your jackson song as a joel fic is still rent free in my head. could you share your idea? or is it still under wraps?

mwah mwah!! 😘

You know what? You asked for this, you made me think of this fic idea again, so you're getting the full fic rn. I hope you enjoy it lmao <3 <3

Pairing: Joel Miller x Reader (gender/race neutral) Summary: Three times Reader sings Jackson by Johnny Cash and annoys Joel, and the one time Joel actually joins in. this is a 3+1 bc i couldn't decide which scene I had imagined for this to write so I went with all of the above (I heavily suggest listening to the song at least once, it's a great tune and will get stuck in your head lol) Warnings: contains spoilers for the show and game (bc as usual I am mixing the two together, mentions of violence and guns, really just reader being annoying to Joel, me shitting on KC (im from KS so im allowed), UNEDITED (bc i am being a bit lazy sorry) WC: 4.5k (how do all of my fics get away from me like this smh)

It had been a long few hours. Emotions were a little high and tension was a bit thick. Neither you nor Joel had been expecting what you found when you finally got to Bill and Frank’s small town. You’d expected a smile and hug from Frank and grumpy complaining from Bill over bringing an outsider, let alone a kid to his town. You’d expected to see Frank take to Ellie and want to show her around, clean her up and feed her like he loved to do. You’d expected to find two of the few you allowed yourself to call friends. Instead you found quiet emptiness, dead flowers, and a note that had your heart breaking for the second time in so many days. Tess' death still heavy on your heart, now had the company of losing Bill and Frank.

So when the first notes softly floated from the speakers of the truck Bill left Joel, you had to do a double take, a grin quickly lighting up your face as you jumped forward in your seat and turned up the radio. The words you knew by heart, the song one of your mother’s favorites, so at the exact time Joel turned to you in question, you grinned widely at him and sang along, “We got married in a fever, hotter than a pepper sprout.”

With a huff Joel whispered to himself an exasperated, “Christ,” but you carried on.

“We’ve been talkin’ ‘bout Jackson, ever since the fire went out.”

You could hear Ellie behind you laughing to herself as Joel shook his head. You didn’t let up, though, you kept singing and pulling laughs from Ellie, making sure to put emphasis on the way you sang every time Jackson was mentioned. You made sure to put on a show as the song switched back and forth between the duet, deepening your voice and acting all suave while Johnny Cash sang and all smooth and flirty during June Carter’s parts.

By the time the song was over, you were a bit breathless from your antics and Ellie was doubled over in the back seat of the truck laughing at you and clapping for you. Joel, though, simply reached over and turned the radio back down til the next song was just barely heard over Ellie's wheezing and the sound of the truck’s engine.

Turning to Joel with a giant grin, you see him simply shaking his head. So you tilted your head at him, as he glanced at you out of the corner of his eye.

“Well? What did you think of my once in a lifetime performance,” you asked with a teasing grin.

Joel simply huffed, “It was, uh, somethin’.”

With faux pride you close your eyes with a nod and confidently say, “Thank you, I worked very hard on that you know. Gonna be singing on the big stage one day.”

That drew a chuckle out of Joel as he grinned and said, “I look forward to seein’ it.”

Kansas City looked a bit worse for wear than you had expected. Though you probably should have really expected this, the rumors that floated around about the city were not favorable. Of all of the cities and FEDRA run quarantine zones it was well known that Kansas City was one of the worst and you better off trying to survive on your own rather try and find refuge within the city. Honestly though it's not too surprising the quarantine zone ended up the way it did, the city was situated in the ass crack of Missouri and Kansas afterall.

You were however caught off guard when you found that the Kansas City FEDRA had finally toppled and the city had been taken over by a group of hunters who were more than happy to use what the soldiers had left behind after their deaths. The hunter were still crafty with their environment, you had to give them that.

The crash had left all three of you disoriented. You had not expected the bus that they had let loose on the truck and you highly doubted Joel had expected it either. When the truck crashed into the convenience store you were thrown forward, smashing you head into the dash so hard spots formed in your eyes and you could feel a piece of glass dig into the skin right above your left eye.

After that things kind of passed in a blur for you. You knew there was a fight and you knew that you had shot at a few guys, though you kind of doubted that you actually managed to hit either with how disoriented you were. Once it was safe for the moment, Joel raced to check on you and Ellie, shoving your bags into your arms. Ellie as it turned out was no worse for wear because she’d been ducked down in the backseat out of sight of the hunters, and your only injuries were from the crash, a small gash on your forehead and a mild concussion from Joel’s estimate.

The three of you didn’t really have time to waste on first aid at that moment, so you’d simply pressed a bandana you had to you head and motioned to a large building a little ways away, whispering, “That’s probably our safest bet right now, we’ll get me fixed up once we know we are all safe.”

Joel had only hesitated for a second before agreeing. He led you and Ellie carefully to the building, safely making sure the three of you stayed out of sight. Once inside, you found that the building was an old hotel, and a nice one at that.

You quietly whistled and said, “This place is nice, could only dream of coming to a place like this before the outbreak.”

Joel just grunted as he looked around for useful things, finding a safe as he replayed, “Isn’t exactly nice anymore.”

You leaned against the counter beside where he was crouched trying to crack the safe and watched as Ellie looked around the lobby with an interest only a child could have. Sighing you shrugged and glanced over your shoulder as you heard the door creak open and replied, “I don’t know. If the outbreak did anything it did bring a certain beauty to the world. There’s something poetically beautiful in the sight of nature reclaiming what once belonged to it.”

Walking around the counter, Joel stood in front of you with a brow raised and shook his head, “Maybe that concussion is worse than I thought if you’re gettin’ all philosophical on me.”

With a huffed laugh you rolled your eyes and just nodded to the stairs, “Come on.”

Your progression upward went smoothly until the fourth floor where per your group’s usual luck you found the stairs blocked with all kinds of debris. You never thought you would miss stairs, but as you picked your way through the floor scouting for a way up you wished that just once the three of you would pick a building that had a simple straightforward way to the top.

You were pulled from your melancholic thoughts by Ellie’s raised voice, “Found a way up!”

You were a little thankful to be pulled away from your thoughts, the action slowly making the ever present headache since the crash throb. Quickly as possible you made your way across the hallway to the room Ellie had been looking through and smiled when you found a concert room with a stage and a beautiful grand piano. You made your way to the stage, noticing the way up Ellie found was on the corner of the stage where the above balcony’s railing had fallen. Gently you ran your fingers over the piano, a little sad to see such a magnificent creation in such disrepair. Looking up to Ellie who stood on the other side you made your way around and hip bumped her.

“You know how to play?”

Ellie laughed and turned to you with a look that screamed she was judging you as she replied, “You really think they’d teach us to play piano in FEDRA school? Let alone find one that actually works,” she shook her head and slowly made her way to the edge of the stage, jumping down. “What about you? You play?”

You hummed and ran your fingers over the keys, cringing at the awful out of tune melody that played. You were stopped from answering though as your fingers fell upon an old rusted microphone. Picking it up you smiled and looked up right as Joel walked into the room. Instantly you laughed, and your grin spread as your eyes met Joel's stoic hazel.

Gently you twirled to the center of the stage, a little dizzy from the sudden movements, but didn’t let it deter you. Looking up at your crowd you heard Joel ask Ellie, “What on Earth are they doing?”

You saw Ellie answer with a shrug and that's when you started to sing the opening notes of the song you had been annoying Joel with for weeks. Ellie laughed and Joel tried protesting but you just carried on. You let yourself get carried away singing the lyrics and making a fool of yourself on stage with your poor excuse of dancing.

It didn’t take Joel long to make his way to the stage, to stop you or figure out how to reach the balcony on the second floor you weren’t sure, but if you had to put money on it you’d guess both. The second he was within reach you grabbed his hand and pulled him towards you as you sang, “Go play your hand, you big talkin’ man. Make a big fool of yourself.”

Rolling his eyes Joel pulled away and you let him go only a second later as you spun yourself again the dizziness became too much and you found yourself stumbling with a gasp. Thankfully Joel had been close enough and had caught you before you fell and hit your head again on the stage.

He led you over to the piano bench and sat you down, taking the microphone from you as he said, “Sit and rest, before you hurt yourself more. Not exactly smart jumping and twirling around with a fresh concussion, nor making a bunch of noise when we are supposed to be keeping a low profile so we aren’t found by those hunters.”

With a sigh you just pouted, over not being able to finish your song but you listened to him and sat there and watched as Joel and Ellie pushed the grand piano over to the wall and watched as Ellie used it to jump up to the next floor. Joel followed but turned to you after getting onto the piano, motioning like he was going to help you up, which he did and then helped boost you to the next floor even if you didn’t need it, getting the feeling he was coddling you now.

Once he was up next to you again, you turned to him with a faux pout, “You said you looked forward to seeing me perform on a stage.”

With a huff, Joel gave you a look that said he was already tired of this situation and only replied, “Do it again when you aren’t a danger to yourself or the rest of us.”

Joel was infallible. At least you had always thought he was. He was the best survivor you knew, there was no question as to why he had gotten this far into the apocalypse, he just knew how to take care of himself and protect those around him. You had seen him get scrapes and bruises from fights and a couple of grazes from near misses from bullets. Never could you imagine that the man you held on such a high pedestal could fall as heavily as he had. You never thought you’d have to watch the man you’d found yourself caring for whole heartedly almost bleed out before your eyes.

But here you are, watching him shiver from the cold and no doubt from the pain wracking his body. Watching him sleep in fits and gazing into glazed eyes when he was barely awake. It was hard to watch, but you tried to be strong for Ellie’s sake. You sometimes would catch her staring at Joel’s fitful body, worry echoing on her face before she threw up a wall on her emotions. You didn’t want to admit it, but of the two she was more helpful. She’d been more successful with finding food and hunting than you have been. Ellie is also the one that had managed to find and bring back the full stocked and sterile first aid kit that you’d used to suture and clean Joel’s wound with, even if the supplies hadn’t done too much for his weakening state. You had found that your main use was only keeping the three of you on track to Salt Lake City and acting as a nurse to Joel, getting him to drink water or broth without drowning him, something Ellie found she didn’t really have the patience or the bedside manner to do.

Still you hid your worries, and shared optimistic thoughts with Ellie during the day even if you didn’t truly believe them yourself.You like to believe you’re helping Ellie by doing this, but in truth you think she’s doing the same for you, just putting on a brave face to make you feel better.

Each night the two of you would take turns taking watch, Ellie always going first, insisting you get rest and not truly trusting you to wake her for the second watch- which was fair because the one time she had agreed to let you take first watch you hadn’t had the heart to wake the exhausted girl to which she’d given you the silent treatment for the next day.

It was only during your watches, once you knew for sure Ellie was asleep, her breaths evening out and her body relaxing, that you allowed your mask to slip, to let your worries out. Each night that passed you swore Joel got paler, that he looked closer to death’s door. You hate watching him wither away like this, hate seeing the strongest person you know, your rock in this world, fall and not be able to help him even though your heart screams at you. You have found yourself sobbing helplessly into your hand in attempts to stay quiet a few times, the hurt and worry building up inside you until it exploded. You hated that you felt weak, but truely what could you do when your strength lay slowly dying on a nasty old twin sized mattress?

Tonight though the tears don’t come. Instead you find yourself feeling empty in your grief as you sit beside Joel’s head gently combing your fingers through his hair in a soothing motion. You weren’t sure if it was meant to sooth Joel or yourself, but either way the action seemed to be grounding you and it could be your imagination but it seemed that Joel’s face seemed somewhat more relaxed so you didn’t stop.

You aren’t sure when, but you caught yourself humming at some point and you couldn’t help but smile and jokingly think to yourself, ‘if anything is going to get a reaction out of him, it’ll be hearing me annoy him with this song again.’

You let yourself hum it a few times, making sure to stay quiet, not wanting to wake Ellie who’d become somewhat of a light sleeper, but eventually you had to laugh and whisper, “Yeah, go to Jackson, and go comb your hair,” as you ran your fingers through Joel’s hair.

You let yourself sing a few more lines, not really paying attention to anything but where your fingers continued their path through his hair, so you were surprised when you felt your free hand, which you had just had laying on Joel’s chest, be enclosed in a rougher calloused hand. Pausing your singing you looked down in surprise and found Joel’s lips turned upward just slightly, and his hand enveloping your own in a loose hold.

With a watery smile, knowing that just moving his hand had to have had taken a lot of energy from him, so you clutched it tighter in your hold as you turned back to running your fingers through his hair as you whispered to him, “Yeah, you go to Jackson, you big talkin’ man. And I’ll be waitin’ in Jackson,” before trailing back off into a hum.

It was over, all of it was finally over. The fireflies were gone, something you would never have to worry about again. Joel was strong again, Ellie was safe, and all three of you were all back in Jackson settling down and making a home for yourselves with Tommy and Maria and all of the townsfolk. And you couldn’t be happier. Everything in life just felt right for the first time since the outbreak. It was odd in a way, but it was so freeing that you didn’t care. You never could have let yourself dream about a life like this, of having a family like this that you could allow yourself to care for. You didn’t think something like this would ever be allowed to live, to thrive in a world so torn apart by a deadly infection and the worst of humanity. But you found it, and you let yourself bask in it. You let yourself be happy.

When the three of you all arrived back in Jackson it had taken a while for each of you to all settle in and relax. It was so foreign after spending months fighting and protecting each other's backs from every danger imaginable. Ellie had taken about a month to situate herself in the town, finding it a bit easier with teens her age being so interested in being her friend and getting to know her as the new kid in town. She settled into the garage and made it her own. Watching her have her own space was a little hard after having her in your sights 24/7 for so long, but you knew she needed it, that she deserved it after everything she went through. You and Joel stayed in the house together, both unwilling to be to far from the teen after everything that went down in Salt Lake City at the hospital and finding the bond between the two of you keeping you together. You each had your own rooms though Joel’s only got used every once in a while, many nights bringing him to your room when your nightmares wake him up. His own nightmares occasionally brought him to you as well, as he found comfort in not being alone, in waking up to find you laying there with soft breaths next to him.

Joel took about a little over a month to settle into the community but once Tommy got him in on the patrol board, he immediately found his place. Letting Joel have some control over where and how the patrols went allowed him to feel a sense of peace. It played into his strong suit of needing to know that the people he cared about were safe and taken care of. Seeing Joel let himself relax and fill the role really warmed your heart, happy to know Joel was finally at peace after so many years of functioning just in fight-or-flight mode.

You, though, took the longest to find your place in Jackson. You didn’t slack, you jumped from job to job filling any empty position in any area that they would let you, but the truth was you didn’t have a strength or a useful skill that could be applied somewhere within the town. You could hunt, but you were not the best at it. You were decent at growing things but the greenhouse didn’t really need anymore volunteers. And while you did love children you neither had the patience or the knowledge to be teaching. So as time passed and Joel and Ellie found their rhythms in the town you found yourself feeling like you were floundering a bit, drowning in a pool of water where your feet should be touching the ground. It wasn’t until you were doing a patrol with Joel a few months after settling back in Jackson that he brought up that the doctor in town was looking to train a new nurse. He had brought it up nonchalantly, but you could tell by the way he glanced out of the corner of his eye that he had a reason behind bringing it up. Later you managed to weasel it out of him, to which he simply replied, “I may not have been all there, but I remember how well you played nurse for me. I think you’d be good at it.”

He had been right of course, you had taken to the position like a duck to water and within no time you found yourself finding your own path in Jackson, letting yourself finally fall into content happiness that Joel and Ellie had also found. In no time at all the three of you all found yourself falling into a routine, each of you revolving around the other two and finding ways to still stay close and not get too busy to not be able to know what the others were up to. Your favorite day in the routine was every three days you’d all have a family meal, Tommy and Maria joining the three of you every other meal.

It was on one of those nights that Joel had come home late from his patrol. You had already started making dinner and had simply shooed him upstairs to take a shower while you finished cooking, knowing that it was only a matter of time before Ellie burst in the back door groaning about being starving.

You weren’t sure how long Joel took to get cleaned up, you had zoned out into your thoughts shortly after hearing the shower turn on, but after what you knew only had to have been a handful of minutes you heard him coming back downstairs, and when he came into the kitchen you simply motioned to the table, asking if he’d set it for you as you had dinner already almost finished.

You however didn’t expect to hear Joel turn on your little portable CD player on the counter and skip through the songs as he said, “Found you something’ while on patrol today.”

You hummed in question, curiosity over taking you as you glanced over your shoulder at him before turning back to stirring what you were cooking. Only a few seconds later you paused as the all to familiar notes floated around the kitchen and a soft smile found its way onto your face. Gently you started swaying as you cooked, but almost as soon as you had started you found a pair of arms wrapped around your middle as Joel pulled you away from the stove, as his deep accented voice sang, “We got married in a fever, hotter than a pepper sprout. We’ve been talkin’ ‘bout Jackson ever since the fire went out. I’m goin’ to Jackson, I’m gonna mess around. Yeah I’m goin’ to Jackson, look out Jackson town.”

Laughing joyfully you join in right as June Carter does and turn to face Joel sticking your spoon in his face as you back up towards the stove to turn it down as you sang, “Well, go on down to Jackson. Go ahead and wreck your health. Go play your hand, you big talkin’ man, Make a big fool of yourself. Yeah, go to Jackson, go comb your hair.”

With a grin Joel grabs the spoon from your hand, laying it on the spoon rest, before grabbing your hand as he picked up his part of the duet once more, “Honey, I’m gonna snowball Jackson, see if I care. When I breese into that city, people gonna stoop and bow. All them women gonna make me teach ‘em what they don’t know how. I’m going to Jackson. You turn ‘n’ loosen my coat, ‘cause I’m goin’ to Jackson.”

Swaying in Joel’s arms as he sang was perfect and you wished more than anything that you could pause time right there and just enjoy this for all eternity. As his part finished once more, Joel twirled you, which you used to sway away from him as you came in singing, “”Goodbye,” that’s all she wrote. But they’ll laugh at you in Jackson and I’ll be dancin’ on a Pony Keg. They’ll lead you ‘round town like the scalded hound, with your tail hooked between your legs. Yeah, go to Jackson, you big talkin’ man. And I’ll be waitin’ in Jackson behind my Jaypan fan.”

You managed to stay out of Joel’s reach until the end laughing as the two of you joined together twirling and dancing around as you sang together.

“Well, now, we got married in a fever, hotter than a pepper sprout. We’ve been talkin’ ‘bout Jackson ever since the fire went out. I’m goin’ to Jackson and that’s a fact. Yeah, we’re going to Jackson, ain’t never comin’ back.”

Joel’s grin was bigger than you’ve ever seen, your happiness radiating off eachother as he swung you out and brought you back in as the two of you finished the song together, eyes never leaving the other’s, “Well, we go married in a fever, hotter than a pepper sprout. Honey, we’ve been talkin’ ‘bout Jackson ever since the fire went out.”

At the very end Joel surprised you by dipping you low, which pulled a loud gasping laugh from you before he pressed a small kiss to your lips before pulling you back up. You couldn’t wipe the grin off of your face once you were back on your feet, not even when two sets of claps came from the doorway along with a quick retching noise. Whipping your head around you felt yourself heat up in embarrassment to see Tommy and Maria standing there grinning at the two of you while Ellie wrinkled her nose and called the two of you gross.

“Hope the two of you didn’t burn our dinner while you were too busy being all lovey dovey,” Ellie griped while plopping down into her seat at the table.

“As a matter of fact I turned the stove off at the beginning of the song, so don’t worry, your food will be just fine,” you replied carrying the pot to the table as Joel passed around plates and silverware, taking it from you once you reached the table with a soft loving smile which you returned, making Ellie groan about losing her appetite even though she was smiling. All the while Tommy and Maria simply enjoyed the entertainment, though Maria did lean over and whisper, “Why can’t you be romantic, like that?”

To which Tommy grinned and simply replied while filling her glass with water, “You want me to try?”

With a sigh, Maria met his gaze and said, “No, I’m not sure I can hand whatever you think would be romantic.”

#joel miller x reader #joel x reader #ellie is here too <3 #I should also add that Mr Cash was a huge part of my childhood and I LOVE this song so this would 100% be me #especially once I found out that the town Tommy lives in is called Jackson #i hope you like this #also thank you for this #bc it was the perfect excuse to procrastinate HW

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theblogof-rassilon · 22 days

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Hello Rassilon. Apologies for the deception but I rather wanted to make sure you started reading, so I thought it best not to announce myself. I'm assuming you're alone; you always did prefer to read your Asks in private. I wouldn't try too hard to stop reading, there's every likelihood you'll just hurt yourself. So just listen.

Anon ask of Omega (Your Ex) regarding Rassilon's current partners. Ask begins.

I hope you'll forgive me the self-indulgence, but I have worked so very hard for this moment, a culmination of two centuries of work. It's rare that you get the chance to monologue through another, and you can't tell me you're not curious.

Why does an ex seek to talk about their former partner's lovers?

It's a simple enough answer: for satisfying one's curiosity. Uninspired, perhaps, but my god. The discovery, not simply of the variety of partners you take interest in, but that you would quite willingly date the teacher of one of Gallifrey's most infamous children.

It's a strange thing to know about an ex, but the fascination, Rassilon, the fascination of it all. I have dedicated my afterlife to handing myself knowledge of these partners, and I feel nothing but satisfaction in this choice.

I believe there are far more people in this world that would catch your eye than you would ever guess. And I have preceeded all of them.

Of course, their desires did not manifest overnight. When Tumblr first gathered your romantic intereste – Borusa, Banthony, and the rest – to discuss and hypothesize on the nature of their love for you, I felt what I believe we all felt: jealousy, and anger.

But as attention on Tumblr increased in number and discussion on the greatest partner for you emerged, I began to develop a very specific concern. Banthony was so obsessed with his ideas on you and his marriage, even as our fellows began to flirt and confess our love to you ourselves.

I began to worry that if Banthony successfully attempted to catch your gaze, then I would be as much a victim as any, trapped in the nightmare landscape of a twisted world without your love.

At first, I attempted prevention, but the cause seemed hopeless. The only way to ensure I did not suffer the tribulations of what I believed to be an inevitable confession of love was to stop my own feelings of love. So what began as an experiment soon became a race. I would make you fall in love with Banthony before professing your love to anyone else, therefore eliminating what myself or Borusa's feelings may be.

And there, I think, we are brought just about up to date. I have enjoyed our little trip down memory lane, but past here lies only a happy future for you and Banthony.

Goodbye, Rassilon

- Omega xoxo

I- I don't know what to say.

Omega, if this is really you, if you somehow, by every twist and turn of fate imaginable, survived this long in some form... My love for you has always been the greatest of any I have felt. Never have I loved another in the way I loved you.

But that is in the past. I have to stop letting you hold me back. I made my decision that fateful day; I did what I had to do to reach the top, to shape this society- our society, our dream- in the way that it must be shaped. Gallifrey could never have had two rulers. You knew this going in. And, best of all, dearest love, you knew that I would not be able to stand a threat to my power and my control. So, as much as I loved you, Omega, my sweet Ohm, my darling Peylix, I had to let you go. For us, for our home, for our people, for our dream. For Gallifrey. We would both be dead and gone by now if I had not, but now, you live on in your beautous creations, and in our shared society. Look at our children. At what we have created. This must be enough.

Oh, but my darling, you never could be so easily satisfied.

That is why I loved you. And that is why I had to let you go.

If this really were you, I would say, dearest Ohm, that I am glad you are able to let me go. I know that must be exceedingly difficult. But, I am happy with Borusa, and I do not love Banthony. If I did not have Borusa to think of, perhaps things would be different, and I would honour your wishes. Perhaps, then, you may finally find peace.

I am truly sorry that I must leave you trapped in your death, but you will never be in a world without my love. My love for you transcends the grave- and yes, I know, it must be your grave, my darling, for you cannot have survived beyond. I know, in my hearts, that you are gone and that this cannot be from you, not really, for you are lost to all but my memory.

Goodbye, my love. For whatever isn't left of you, for whatever could have been- my love for you persists even now, across regenerations and across death and across time.

#sorry it took me so long to get here #this is truly the most incredible ask I have ever received #ask #omega #of rassilon #answer #banthony #borusa #also. a little obsessed with the idea of a once-enraged ex lover returning to being obsessed with the guy who LITERALLY MURDERED HIM only t #end up wanting the best for him and trying to match make him. And instead of choosing to encourage the love of a fellow obsessive sub who #is clearly in an unhealthy relationship with Rassy (Borusa)#ergo mirroring his own lost relaitonship #he chooses to encourage the love of a FICTIONAL CHARACTER who was basically a MEME brought to life only to annoy Rassy #idk what you call it... character development?? BUt this is certainly wonderful and intriguing and hilarious #seriously. you are brilliant #also I think it's important to mention that the mian reason this took me so long to get to was because the first time I read it I opened it #at school and burst out laughing in front of everyone #and I haven't been able to answer this without laughing uproariously for so so long #and then I took the break and then I left town for a bit #but I'm back and I'm still laughing so so much and yet here we are #I did it!!!#also I hope Borusa sees this and gets mad and finally leaves this bitch (rassy)#he deserves better #find later #omega omega omega

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ashintheairlikesnow · 11 months

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How is Beringer 🥺

You can find work involving Beringer, the daycare-worker pet who ran away thanks to a handler who decided to stop being a handler, in this masterlist.

Beringer finds himself staring out the window at the endless span of white outside as the dirty water drains out of the sink, towel forgotten in his hands.

Snow covers the houses in the little town in a heavy blanket, obscures any suggestion that there had ever been a road that ran through it. A fence cuts across the plain white, where the pasture is. The horses are huddled warm in the barn, though, and the only thing visible in the pasture is the tiny house at the far end, almost cradled by the woods that rise just behind it.

Marc's in that little house, freezing slowly to death while his daughter at least is napping warm and dry and Beringer sits here like a lump, not allowed to see him alone.

We have to be sure, was all Brock had said by way of explanation. Hurried quick kisses before witnesses, having to tear Marc's own daughter from his arms after the far too short visits, holding Mallie while she wailed for her daddy in utter misery, not understanding. That's all he gets, for now.

Beringer understands.

They want to see if Beringer felt forced to offer himself to a handler who offered him kindness, if he's someone who knelt for a man with a badge and a shock baton, if any of this is him or just what WRU wanted. If it's real or if it was conditioned into him.

He gets it.

He doesn't like it, but he gets it.

He feels awful about it, too.

If he hadn't roped Marc into his plan...

No. He needed a way out, and Handler Sonders was that way. He needed someone who showed interest, who could be convinced that Beringer is a real live man who should get to choose where he goes. Marc Sonders fell for it, that's all. He fell for Beringer's half-smiles and soft flirting. That's it, that's all it was.

Marc Sonders was a man too easy to con.

But now Beringer can't bring himself to leave the mark behind. He's too aware of the way it feels to have Marc kiss his knuckles, like a knight in the television shows he watches with a lady. He remembers too well how Marc's lips are warm and dry, and that he isn't the best kisser but he makes up for it in how badly he wants to.

Beringer probably seems the same to him.

"Hey-yo, Earth to new guy," A voice sing-songs from behind him, and he realizes someone is knocking against the doorframe. He turns away, drying his hands off quickly, feeling himself flush. There's a woman there, with hair a thousand tiny braids that run shockingly far down her back, held together by a cord tied loosely at her nape. She has an oversized sweater that slips off one rounded shoulder, long as a dress over leggings. "You're him, right?"

He blinks, trying to jolt himself back to reality. "Uh. Yeah, I'm... one of them."

"Rye says you worked in the daycare at Facility One," She says, pouring herself a cup of coffee from the little drip pot. Everything is community property here. Nobody owns one coffee pot, everyone owns it. He just watches her add creamer from the fridge, French Vanilla flavor, enough to turn it from nearly black to a tan lighter than the color of her skin. That idea of drinking coffee that sweet makes his stomach flip and he winces.

"I did."

"I thought you guys were supposed to be perfect." She gives him a look like a challenge, leaning back against the counter. She's pretty, but there's a hard look to her, too. He realizes all at once that the colors in her braids aren't dyed hair, but colored thread, or yarn of some kind, woven through all the way from top to bottom. "Like, loyal to a fault. Supposedly you're trained so you can't ever leave. Don't even want to, can't even think about it."

"We are." He shrugs, lifting one shoulder more than the other. His eyes find their way back to the little shack at the edge of the pasture, just barely visible after the blizzard finally ended. He can see Rye, now, wearing snowshoes as he makes his way there weighed down with a heavy backpack. Beringer had sent fresh hot coffee, new bread baked by a woman who seems to do nothing else in a house two doors down. Salted butter.

I keep asking them to let him come into town, He'd said to Rye, before he came in here to wash the dishes. Please tell him. Tell him I keep asking for them to let him come here to me.

Rye had promised, sworn up and down, and Beringer had to trust him, because nobody trusted Ber or Marc at all. They were a runaway handler and a runaway daycare worker, two people who are supposed to be WRU's most perfect creations. Still...

Nobody's perfect, right?

Beringer runs fingertips over the back of one hand, where ancient scars still twist across like fading ropes. The reason he couldn't be made into something to serve. Pretty face, a handler once said, but get his shirt off and it's a goddamn ruin under there.

The burns cover sixty percent of your body...

"Then why are you here?" Her eyebrows raise. He jolts back into the present. There's no hostility in her, he thinks. Just a curiosity that seems even riskier than resentment would have been.

"Because I was..." He hesitates. Then he just shakes his head. "Because I was tired of having to watch my babies leave me."

"What? Your what?"

"Every four years they took them from me to go to real school. Every four years. I met them as infants, some of them brand new. I saw them roll over for the first time, watched them learn how to smile. We helped them take their first steps and then swore up and down that their parents were the ones who saw it first. Taught them alphabets and numbers and I taught them some Spanish, too, I know it for some reason. They had to be taught not to call me Dada. I loved each and every one of them, we're good at that, that's why we get picked for it. But we have to let them go. And when they leave, they get told we never mattered to them at all. They get taught to leave us behind."

"And... you can't leave them behind."

"Had to. No choice."

She blinks. Her voice - her whole face - softens now, with real compassion. "That was... really rough, huh?"

"Agony, thanks for bringing it up. Really love that feeling."

She doesn't look pissed at his snappy reply. Instead, she laughs. "Oh, man. You remind me of a friend of mine from the city. He was all bristles and thorns like you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah. Probably saved my life a couple times that way. I tried to save his, when I ran. Tried to take him with me." She looks down, her smile wavering a little. "He stayed. I hope he's okay."

"I hope so, too. Was he one of us?"

"Yeah. He went through a lot more shit than most of us do, though. I think. He never talked about it, but I don't think you learn to be as paranoid as he was without there being a good reason. What's your name? I'm Juliet."

"Beringer. Or, well. They called me that, but... I like it."

"That's funny, too. My... friend I told you about called me Juliet, so I called him Romeo. Are you going to Canada? That's my plan. I heard you shouldn't try Montreal unless you speak really really good French, but supposedly Toronto and Vancouver are safe for us."

"That was the plan, yeah." Beringer hums. Rye has vanished, having made it to the little shack where Marc Sonders sits. Beringer wonders if Marc likes the coffee. If he likes the bread.

If his mouth would taste like coffee.

Does Marc still think it was worth it to bring him here? Maybe he's realized now that Beringer just needed access to a car and a fool who could drive and who wouldn't realize it was all a big lie to get here.

Is it still a lie if it... isn't a lie any longer?

"It was the plan? What's the plan now?"

"I'm waiting for them to let my-... my friend out. He's in the house out there." He gestures towards the pasture.

"Your friend is the handler?" Her lip curls, half a snarl that fades away as soon as she realizes she's doing it. He can tell she was a Romantic - she has that way of standing, with an unconscious grace. One hip slightly tipped, begging you to notice the way waist curves into hips. If she flirts, he thinks, she'll put a hand out, run it down his chest. She'll bite her lower lip, tilt her chin down slightly to make her eyes seem bigger as she looks up at him.

They all do it.

Just like the Domestics all have the same distant smile and way of disappearing into the walls as they walk past, like they're shadows who clean when your back is turned and not people. The way the Platonics always look excited and wait to be given attention, affection, some sign that things are okay, that they're being the right kind of friend or surrogate son or whatever they've been bought for.

Everyone has their false expression, everyone gives away their body in one way or another and pretends they're happy to do it.

He likes the look on her face now much better. It's mingled suspicion and disgust, as her eyes move to the window over his shoulder. It's an honest look. She makes it because that's how she actually feels, not just because she has to do whatever it takes to survive.

They all do whatever it takes to survive.

Just like Marc got a job to pay for a child and a wife and then kept the job when the wife vanished and he had to figure it out on his own. The way needing the job made it easier to sell his body to hurt other people, because then he went home at the end of the day. Just like Beringer went into his little back room with the beds and watched TV and wondered what it was like to be the people in those shows, who could just open a door and go for a drive. For a coffee. Just to smell the air.

"He quit," Beringer says with a shrug. "Or. Um. I think he's legally dead or missing now. There was a fire-" His hands tremble at the memory of the heat, mixed up with a deeper memory of the skin on his back firing every nerve as he reached, desperately, for a hand that no longer reached back for him-

"He quit," he repeats, cutting it off before his headache can start. He isn't going to entertain the memories, he wiped them for a reason. He feels better without them anyway. "For me."

"Oh." Juliet blinks. Then, her eyes widen. "Oh. Are you fucking him?"

Romantics. Always the one assumption. Beringer holds back a sigh. "You're the fifth person since we got here to ask me that."

"Well? I mean, are you?"

"No." His voice is flat. "I'm not."

He wants to.

She doesn't need to know that.

"Did he ask you to?"

"No. Hey, what happens in my pants is kind of my business, okay? I just needed a way to get to Canada, and he wanted to get his daughter away from the system. He didn't want to do this anymore, and I didn't either. That's it. Simple as that."

"Nothing is that simple." She sets her empty mug down in the sink. Beringer's jaw tightens when she doesn't bother to rinse it out, just leaves it dirtied there. "Nobody does shit for free, Beringer. Nobody helps just to be nice. Nobody does a good thing without getting paid for it. Nobody's good. Everybody just does what it takes, and fuck whoever stands in the way."

She walks away, and Beringer manages to wait long enough for her to leave before he turns and washes the mug out, so aggressively he's afraid he'll break the handle from how tightly he grips it.

He has no idea how to tell her that he never had anything to lose, not really. It's Marc, not him, who has had to give up everything just to get him here. It's Marc who lost his entire life.

Beringer is the one who convinced him to throw it away. He tells himself it had to be done, though. He had to get out of there. He had to stop watching them take his children from him, year after year after year. He had to... He had to trick someone, and Marc was close and easy.

It doesn't make Beringer the bad guy here.

He just did what he had to do to get beyond surviving.

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @arlinthesnep @endless-whump @doveotions @emdeighamae @wildfaewhump @whump-tr0pes @hackles-up @orchidscript

#whump #beringer #marc sonders #juliet #a little town called hope #the little town of hope #bbu #box boy #box boy universe #runaway whumpee #referenced dubcon #scars tw #scarred whumpee

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