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caeslxys · 9 days

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I’ve mentioned this elsewhere but it feels relevant again in light of the most recent episode. Something that’s really fascinating to me about Orym’s grief in comparison to the rest of the hells’ grief is that his is the youngest/most fresh and because of that tends to be the most volatile when it is triggered (aside from FCG, who was two and obviously The Most volatile when triggered.)

As in: prior to the attack on Zephrah, Orym was leading a normal, happy, casual life! with family who loved him and still do! Grief was something that was inflicted upon him via Ludinus’ machinations, whereas with characters like Imogen or Ashton, grief has been the background tapestry of their entire lives. And I think that shows in how the rest of them are largely able to, if not see past completely (Imogen/Laudna/Chetney) then at least temper/direct their vitriol or grief (Ashton/Fearne/Chetney again) to where it is most effective. (There is a glaring reason, for example, that Imogen scolded Orym for the way he reacted to Liliana and not Ashton. Because Ashton’s anger was directed in a way that was ultimately protective of Imogen—most effective—and Orym’s was founded solely in his personal grief.)

He wants Imogen to have her mom and he wants Lilliana to be salvageable for Imogen because he loves Imogen. But his love for the people in his present actively and consistently tend to conflict with the love he has for the people in his past. They are in a constant battle and Orym—he cannot fathom losing either of them.

(Or, to that point, recognize that allowing empathy to take root in him for the enemy isn't losing one of them.)

It is deeply poignant, then, that Orym’s grief is symbolized by both a sword and shield. It is something he wields as a blade when he feels his philosophy being threatened by certain conversational threads (as he believes it is one of the only things he has left of Will and Derrig, and is therefore desperately clinging onto with both bloody hands even if it makes him, occasionally, a hypocrite), but also something he can use in defense of the people he presently loves—if that provocative, blade-grief side of him does not push them—or himself—away first.

(it won’t—he is as loved by the hells as he loves them. he just needs to—as laudna so beautifully said—say and hear it more often.)

#critical role #cr spoilers #bells hells #orym of the air ashari #cr meta #imogen temult #ashton greymoore #liliana temult #this is genuinely completely written in good faith as someone who loves orym #but is also about orym and so will inevitably end up being completely misconstrued and made into discourse. alas #I could talk about how Orym’s unwillingness to allow the hells to actually finish/come to a solid conclusion on Philosophy Talk #is directly connected to one of the largest criticisms of c3 (that they are constantly having these conversations)#all day. alas. engaging with orym’s flaws tends to make people upset #it is ESP prevelant when he walks off after exclaiming ‘they (vangaurd) are NOT right’#which was not only never said but wasn’t even what they were talking about #he even admits as much to imogen like ten minutes later! that he is incapable of viewing it objectively #which is 100% justifiable and understandable but simultaneously does not make his grief alone the most important perspective in the world #also bc i fear ppl will play semantics on my tags yes the line ‘i hope she’s right’ was said but it was from ASHTON #who does not believe they are at all and wasn’t saying they actively WERE right. orym just heard something to latch onto and ran with it #ultimately there is a reason orym only admitted that he was struggling when he had stepped away to talk to dorian #who has not been around and thusly has not changed once n orym's eyes #and it isn't that the hells never check in or care. they do. they have several times over #it is dishonest to say they haven't #the actual reason is that all of this is something He Is Aware Of. he doesn't mention it bc he KNOWS it's hypocritical and selfish #he says as much!#EXHALES. @ MY OWN BRAIN CAN WE THINK ABT MOG AGAIN. FYRA RAI EVEN. FOR ME.#posting this literally at 8 in the morning so I can get my thoughts out of my brain but also attempt to immediately make this post invisibl

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pettyprocrastination · 1 year

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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.

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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