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#reunion tag
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whoever this beloved anon was I am so touched by your kindness! You definitely didn’t have to do this but I am so happy you enjoy this idea and I will happily expand upon it for you!
this is just a collection of word vomit bullet points for the time being but I will happily answer any and all questions about this pair!!
warnings: violence, angst, child death (Sarah Miller), foul language, the same warnings that apply to tlou, reader is Sarah's mom and described as having similar features to her. 
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So the general Idea is that you and Joel are happily married before the outbreak. 
You had been Sarah's mother, his high school sweetheart he got pregnant when neither of you were old enough to have any reaction to the pregnancy test other than a fucking panic attack in one another’s arms. but you made it work 
you both worked but made time for one another and your sweet girl, going to museums every other weekend and joel insisting on swooping you off for a date every now and then 
nothing special. He knows you’re more of a diner gal than anything too fancy that makes you both feel out of place. 
On his birthday in 2003, you had planned to tell him that you were pregnant again. But the memories of your own fears of motherhood from all those years ago begin to swirl through your head again and you get cold feel. deciding to tell him the morning after
it is his birthday afterall, you want to focus on him. 
but when you’re woken up in the middle of the night because tommy needs to get bailed out, Joel kisses you sweetly one last time before promising he’ll be back and you can’t shake the feeling that something bad is happening. 
its you that shakes sarah awake that night. shouting at her to put on her shoes when she’s still rubbing the sleep from her eyes because you’ve been listening to the radio for the past two hours, calling joel again and again and again praying for him to fucking pick up but to no avail. 
Sarah, bless your little girl’s bleeding heart is the one who insists you check on the adler’s against your better suspicions and when you find the eldest looming over her daughter, blood and sinew dripping from her mouth, you grab your daughter hand and burst into a full sprint until something slams into your back and sends you tumbling onto their front lawn
its how joel finds you, struggling to keep the once sweet old woman, whose now nothing more than dead eyes and gnashing teeth straining to snap at your pulse point as you push against her while sarah shrieks before your husband runs forward and cracks her skull with a wrench. 
there’s hardly a moment of pause, just enough for him to pull you up and into his arms before he’s ushering you both into the car with an urgency. 
when the truck crashes, you get separated from them. Perhaps at Tommy’s side when the flames rise and create a wall, separating you from your husband, or maybe pulled into the mob of chaos when trying to escape from those already infected-
all joel knows is that you promise you’ll find him: just get sarah to safety and you’ll meet him at the river
Poor thing is already so frightened, held in her father’s arms with tears streaming down her face insisting they can’t leave you they just can’t but her father kisses her forehead and reassures her its going to be okay 
“we just need to be brave, okay babygirl? Your mama’s real tough, she’s gonna be alright.” 
he isn’t sure if he’s saying it to his daughter or himself. 
but when he comes to the river you aren’t there. Only a soldier who points a gun at the scared little girl in his arms and then he loses everything
its when the light is gone from his daughter’s eyes that he realizes. His voice cracked and raw from sobbing that he looks around to see his brother with drawn in shoulders and tears in his eyes but his wife is nowhere to be found. 
Tommy says you got lost in the chaos. Everything was so loud, so sudden that he turned around and suddenly you weren’t there. 
Joel wants to go back but its Tommy that stops him, that dulls the red in his vision to a sad faded pink because his brother points at the orange horizon not too far from them, so much of the city is already in flames. 
“We’re gonna find her, but not there.” 
So Joel searches. for the first year spent in the world post-outbreak its all he did. 
He became a smuggler because of it. 
Information came at a price and he needed to be able to fucking pay it, whether it be in blood or ration cards. He was willing to do anything to find you or any thin thread that lead your way. 
But it’s Tommy that asks him to give up. Not in those words of course. 
The youngest Miller knows better than to say something so cruel that would make his brother, the only person he has in this world turn on him. 
But his voice is worried when he asks him one night in Boston when he hasn’t even had the chance to wash the blood from his knuckles 
“You think she would have wanted this for you?” 
the fight that followed his words was brutal. Vicious insults and scarred fists slamming against each brother until they're both too tired and bloody to continue. Each leaning against a wall for support and Tommy’s wavering voice breaking the silence. 
“I don’t know where she is, Joel. But I do know you're gonna get yourself killed if you keep lookin’ for her.” 
All he can do is nod. 
It’s a few days later when he meets Tess. Who has heard plenty of stories about the elder miller’s brutality and wants him to put that muscle to good use for some extra profit. 
It begins his new life. One that empty and cold but one he can live. 
Until of course, Ellie comes along. The sweet and incredibly opinionated girl that makes him become something akin to the man he thought died twenty years ago. 
its when he’s traveling with Ellie, that it happens. When a warm familiarity has settled between the two because so much blood and pain has been shared he can’t help but see her as something close, something bright even though all he can force himself to utter in her reference is “cargo” 
when theyre traveling through the woods as Ellie chatters away, probing his memory about a movie that may or may not have existed thirty years ago because her descriptions of the plot are incredibly odd he hears a voice shout for them to stop and finds himself staring at a man- no, a boy- pointing a gun at them. 
Ellie stills, but Joel can see enough to know that from the lanky figure and dimpled face that he’s young. Maybe twenty, twenty-two at the oldest, but his eyes dart from Joel to Ellie with a pinprick of fear that allows Joel the time to charge forward and slam him to the ground before wrestling the gun from his hands. 
He has enough to time to tuck it under the stranger’s chin before he hears the sound of the safety being turned off and finds himself looking up and seeing a gun just inches from his face. 
Joel’s head whips around when Ellie’s voice calls out his name in fear, he turns to see another stranger holding her a gun point, shoulders drawn back and a shadow cast over their face by the had obstructing their identity. 
“You hurt one of mine, I hurt one of yours. That a fair deal?” 
Its takes him a moment to recognize you. It’s been so long since he’s heard your voice, the sweet tease when you would poke at him each time he woke up late despite the fact that you reminded him to set his alarm the night before, the times you’d chide him with a harsh “Joel Miller!” whispered in public anytime he was able to grab you a bit too passionately to be appropriate in public but the laughter in your voice let him know you were never truly mad at him. You didn’t know how to be. 
But that sweetness is buried under a cold rasp that cuts through the air as you point a rifle at the scared little girl in front of you.
“You think I won’t?” You’re older now, skin covered in scars from a life he didn’t know you got the chance to live and your eyes are cold as they regard your husband. “Put the gun down and get the fuck off of him, I won’t repeat myself.” 
Joel mumbles your name in awe. The woman he loved, the woman he mourned the one he fought so hard to find stands before him like some sort of hallucination and suddenly the world feels like its spinning until you bark orders at him again. 
“You’ve got five seconds Joel, make a fucking choice before I make it for you.” 
He looks down and realizes the boy under him, the one with the bleeding nose and snarling face has your eyes and his dimples. 
“One.” 
The one above him has Sarah’s hair. Soft brown curls that shine under the sun. 
“Two”
Wait. No, they both do.
“Three.” 
Twins. Jesus fucking Christ you had twins. 
“Four.” 
Joel holds the rifle up above his head and the one boy standing snatches it from his grasp, tossing it to the ground and kicking it far from his reach. He slowly stands, allowing your son- dear god your son- to scramble to his feet. 
Your voice softens just for a moment. “You okay, Duke?” 
Blood stains the bottom half of his face from where Joel slammed his fist into the boy’s nose just moments before, but he nods nonetheless. 
Now, they both stand on one side of you and he can see the resemblance clear as day the same way he would whenever Sarah was by your side.
When you order him to hand over his bag, he does so without question before telling Ellie to do the same. 
She watches him with wide eyes, her hands still up in the air but gaping at her companion as if he had grown a second head. 
“Joel!” “Just do it, alright?”
He doesn’t miss the way you watch their interaction with narrowed eyes until she tosses her bag to you and you slowly lower your gun. 
“Now, you want to tell me what the fuck you think you’re doin’ at my home?” 
#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#i had an idea of something similar for tommy but on outbreak night he uh. abandons you instead of getting separated from you#because. angst :D#people say nice things#this was incredibly generous of you anon thank you so so much!#i may get myself a little starbucks drink this week now because I havent had starbucks since like january 1st lol#joel reeling from taking in all this information and also realizing he suckerpunched HIS OWN KID#id like to apologize for all the grammatical issues with this. this is just a bulletpoint word vomit to get my thoughts on the page before-#-beginning the actual fic. also I have to do a midterm tonight and this is my treat to myself hehe#but yes. joel getting separated from his wife on outbreak night and having to accept that shes probably dead#meanwhile youve lived this entire life without him because you think HES dead ad raising your boys all on your own#which just- further digs into his insecurities about failing in his role as a protector#he couldn't save sarah. he can't save ellie and he couldn't even save you#he thinks about you pregnant and alone. fending for yourself in a world full of infected and raiders and his chest grows tight again#this is all followed by Ellie going >:O 'you KNOW THIS PSYCHO?'and then joel immediately snapping at her to WATCH HER MOUTH#because that kid has no filter and he has to explain that youre his wife#anyways joels wife is a badass mfer who also maybe has a little garden and some chickens that you and your boys take care of <3 yeah .#reunion tag#ill be using that for this specific couple because I dont have a fic title yet but if anybody has suggestions!
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lionfission · 1 month
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girl help
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caelanglang · 3 months
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Happy Lunar New Year!
here's a lil comic of my skk little prince au i made a while back to greet you all :)) I hope your new year wishes come to fruition and that your year would be a blessed one <3
Anyways,,, new year shrine visit!
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pyre-sea · 1 year
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Sabo in Alabasta, what crimes will he witness.
I have so many thoughts about “what if Sabo was in Alabasta at the same time as Ace and Luffy?” this doesn’t even scratch the surface.
Sabo has such Sabo vibes that it would definitely cause a 🤔 but as soon as Luffy sees his scar and long hair he’d immediately forget his suspicions and run off again. And I don’t think Sabo in this state would be in any way prepared for Luffy’s Luffy-ness. 
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leisi-lilacdreams · 9 months
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just a little flame that's all his brother is now but it's the heaviest thing he's ever held
that's ok @somerandomdudelmao i was only gonna take a nap after watching mutant mayhem then you had to go and post that update
the little prose popped into my head after reading it and i was taken over by something
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turtleneck-crowley · 5 months
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Ineffable Daddies
Season 3 better be:
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with Aziraphale happily watching on his sofa sipping cocoa with a book on his lap
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bondilluns · 7 months
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i'm turnin into some dust, i'm turnin into some bats!!!1 🦇🦇🦇
HI! my comissions are open so check out my pinned post if you're interested ^^
[ID: A digital painting of Gerard Way wearing their bat costume. They are holding the microphone over their mouth, and they're looking to the left. They're surrounded by fog, which is drawn in messy spiraling lines. The color palette consists of various shades of teal, and they have a pink heart drawn in each cheek. End ID]
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cappydoodle · 1 year
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rereading my own fic and yeah I'm a comedic genius I think
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superfruitland · 6 months
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if future duo has ten fans i am one of them. if future duo has only one fan that is me. if future duo has no fans i've died. if future d--
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sirguyofdykesborn · 8 months
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just got to them i don't care about anything else in this game anymore
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teainthesnow · 8 months
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@somerandomdudelmao is giving me emotions again so time to give some back...
- - -
It’s over.
it’s finally over.
Or, he thinks, with a shuddering breath and numb agony, that it will be over soon.
So he lies there, breathing in the dust and ash, and the sour taste of all that was lost, of the embers of a dying world, filling his mouth.
It would...
It would all be okay now.
He inhales.
And tries not to be scared by what comes next.
But, vaguely, distantly, as he slips further and further into numb acceptance he feels a presence, a familiar warmth blanketing him. Warm hands touch his shoulder feeling fiercely protective but tinged with fear.
It’s okay, he whispers but he’s certain the words come about as nothing more than a senseless whisper, if they even make it out at all.
But...
It’ll be okay.
It’s time.
He’s ready for the next step.
To face his ancestors, friends, family, and brothers.
And hopefully that meant all three of them.
He exhales.
And falls into the darkness.
But the darkness parts around him.
His thoughts swirl into a blurry haze, slipping from him before he can truly comprehend them or the things around him.
All he knows is this is wrong... he shouldn’t... he thought...
Wasn’t it supposed to be over now?
Not... not this incoherent haze of a life where the only comfort his can find is in the soft fluttering traces of red and purple.
So he hides; feeling scared and alone and wondering why this is his fate, why he has been cursed to stay isolated and away from those he cares about.
He is so tired, so exhausted.
Barely clinging on to the last of his strength even though he isn’t truly sure why he does so.
There’s something whispering, begging, cheering for him to keep going.
To hold on.
Something – or perhaps someone – calling his name, voice laced with a pleading desperation.
But
all he can do
is
slip
further
down.
And then something shifts through the fog.
The world tilts on its axis.
The is a fire surrounding him, burning away the encroaching darkness that he had been so willing to accept.
No, he pleads, reaching a desperate hand outwards.
Let me go.
Please.
Let me go home.
The fire, the warmth, the two flames do not listen as they cling tightly onto him, dragging him forcefully along with them.
Please.
And then the fire vanishes just as quickly as it had appeared, leaving him weak and fading once more.
But then the static clings to him, trapping him, keeping him from fading, from moving on.
There is a comforting presence within the electricity, similar to the warm flames, but slightly different.
Familiar yet somehow unfamiliar at the same time.
There is something within the sensation that makes him pause and hesitate.
All he can feel is a weird mix of worry, relief, and unwavering determination.
He almost stops fighting.
But he can’t.
This isn’t-
He isn’t home.
He needs to go home.
So he fights against the static, against the energy it gives him.
Against those soft thoughts of you’re safe, please stop fighting, let me- let us help you.
But that wouldn’t be fair, would it?
Did he really deserve peace when they weren’t here?
He just wanted to see them again.
(Even though the whispers tried to convince him that they were already there because it didn’t make sense.)
So whenever he can he fights.
He runs.
But the static, the flames, keep finding him.
Keep holding him protectively within their embrace.
(keeping him safe)
Keeping him trapped.
(keeping him alive)
Keeping him away from home.
(giving him strength to keep himself alive)
In this fog-filled limbo that his existence has become.
And then.
Finally.
Something changes.
And.
He.
Falls.
Again.
He blinks open his eyes.
Confused and disorientated and still not quite fully himself.
He feels...
Empty.
Perhaps.
Nothing but a fragile reflection of who he was, of who he will be.
Hollow.
Lonely.
And lost in the vast empty darkness.
Empty, he realises slowly through sludge filled thought, but not silent.
There’s a voice shouting in the distance.
Muffled and incoherent but definitely there.
He looks around.
Suddenly desperate.
Overcome with the desire to find the voice.
To find-
He looks down at his reflection.
But it isn’t *his* reflection.
Maybe *he’s* the reflection.
Forced to echo, to copy.
He’s yelling at himself.
...isn’t he?
But then a hand reaches through the mirror and grabs hold of his scarf.
Pulling him upwards and through the once solid surface and the voice, the familiar and unfamiliar voice, becomes clear.
Becomes understandable.
And awareness washes over him.
The ‘anger’ leaves.
All he has left is a numb confusion and a growing hope.
And then he is falling again.
He blinks.
Awareness comes back to him slowly.
His vision slowly fading back into clarity.
And his first coherent thought is to be annoyed by a constant tap, tap, tap, of a keyboard being used.
He tiredly shifts to locate the source of the noise and sees Donnie tapping away, focused solely on his task.
Then that thought processes.
To See... Donnie... tapping away?
...Donnie?
And the tiredness immediately drops away as he reaches out desperately, hopefully.
And then he falls out of the bed with a thump.
But there are hands on him, gently picking him up, embracing him, words nothing but a murmured blur as reality drips into comprehension.
It can’t...
This can’t...
He is so overwhelmed, so utterly lost, he can only sit there as Donnie fusses around him, voice tinged with anger.
No... he realises, as a smile begins to creep upon his face and tears well up in the corner of his eyes, not anger.
Worry.
But he can’t let himself relax yet.
This is too good to be true.
Is this really truly real?
“D-Donnie?” He asks voice wavering and tinged with a fear he cannot hold back.
And when Donnie (and he hopes, really desperately hopes that it is) keeps fussing he reaches forward and takes hold of a flailing hand.
It’s... it’s warm.
The tears are there again, now dripping unbidden down his face.
“You’re real.”
The wrist within his grasp is solid and warm, and strong.
“You’re real!”
Not thin and weak and rattled with tremors.
But...
“Are you?”
He tentatively asks, scared for the truth but hoping against everything for the best.
That Donnie – his brother, his beloved twin is here.
And then Donnie soothes his fears, tells him the truth, the amazing, almost unbelievable truth.
He cannot stop the tears.
Does not want to stop the tears.
This is...
This is everything he had hoped for.
And the tears that drip, drip, drip down his face are no longer tears of pain and fear and utter sadness but those of hope and joy and the understanding that this is it.
There is a warmth surrounding him.
A hug, he slowly realises.
A hug he thought he’d never receive again.
The trickle of tears becomes a torrent. He cannot hold back, nor does he want to. The relief hits him like a sledgehammer as he clings desperately to the brother he never thought he would see again.
Crying loudly and unashamedly.
This is...
He chokes back the sobs once they calm slightly.
And cracks probably the best (worse) joke he’s made in a while.
And laughter is his reward.
There is a warmth swelling within him, a calmness, and a happiness he had thought unachievable as he and his amazingly alive brother share their joy with each other once again.
And then Donnie passes out.
Gently, carefully, he sets him down, noting the rise and fall of his plastron but he still presses a cautious hand to his brothers neck.
And sighs with relief at the comforting and steady
thump
thump
thump
of a healthy heartbeat.
He exhales in relief.
It’s okay.
A weight lifts off his shoulders as he raises a hand to his own neck feeling the very proof the he too is alive and healthy.
And that is when it really truly begins to sink in.
Despite his confusion. Despite having not even the smallest idea of how he got here, of how he’s alive.
Of how Donnie is alive when even his spirit...
He takes in a soothing breath, shakes the thoughts out of his head, and focuses on the good that he can find.
Because.
It’s over
It’s finally over.
But, he pauses, as he takes in his surroundings and processes what just happened.
To breathe in the clean air.
To enjoy the steady beating of their heartbeats.
To think he’s alive, they’re both alive.
So...
Maybe...
Hopefully...
...it’s only just begun.
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aachria · 3 months
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Pining, pining…
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Ladies, you ever gaze longingly at the wanted posters of pretty girls? One specific pretty girl? No..? Well.
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alazystranger · 3 months
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hawkins's expression here gets me everytime because you just know that he's wondering why the fuck is he under the hot, afternoon sun and witnessing two gayass pirates flirting with each other and being dramatic after merely 2 weeks of being separated. he definitely considered asking for a raise after this.
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not even going to say anything about Zoro's choice of words here .
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katabay · 4 months
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I feel so normal about how people will have entire conversations at them, but Xiao Hua is just staring at Hei Xiazi like there's no one else on the fucking planet
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devastating. whenever hei xiazi smiles at him I feel like I got hit in the solar plexus. many layers to unpack. much to dissect. also extremely fucking funny how there are very much other people in this scene trying to accomplish something and xiao hua has exactly One (1) focus.
bsky ⭐ pixiv ⭐ pillowfort ⭐ cohost
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terezis · 10 months
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barry couldn’t swim until taako taught him during the beach year... a hundred years later the coin tells his voidfished self that one of his favorite things is swimming in cold water on a hot day........ i know the real reason for this is bc griffin just forgot he said it but in my headcanons... the reason why barry loves it so much b/c it reminds him of a happy time with his family. even when he can’t remember them... the feeling remains
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