scomiller

[scomiller]

guyys Im hungry for Angst of Joel Miller, but happy endings. When I say ANGST is really sad, like argues, yells, hurtful things he didn’t mean, you getting hurt in a patrol…Things like that. I like suffering, so helpp meee with recommendations

[scomiller]

Faith - Joel Miller x Reader

After traumatic events during the journey with Joel and Ellie, her faith fades — until, years later, it returns with Joel’s life.

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TW; mentions of sexual abuse (no graphic content), christian faith.

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Joel never understood your faith.

His feelings toward your belief were a limbo between disdain and admiration.

He watched the scapular on your neck — always present in every moment, whether of sorrow or joy — and mocked you the first few times he saw your hands together to start a prayer. But he learned to stay quiet over time.

Your innocent feelings mattered more than his bitter ones.

Your faith was strong until the day your voice screamed for Ellie to go back and protect Joel while you tried to distract the men of Silver Lake.

Your faith was strong until you were thrown against that fence and found out that the man who disgusted you shared the same faith as you.

Your faith was strong until you saw your little girl join you on the cold floor.

Luckily, Joel found you both. First Ellie, desperate, saying you had stayed behind in the flames. Joel was ready to go in, to kill anyone who got in his way — anyone who had hurt you. But when his hands were about to reach the doorknob, you came out — covered in blood. Your jeans unzipped, your shirt soaked in blood, which also stained your face with some splashes. The red marks inside your pants made it clear: someone had touched you. Hands. Dirty hands. Joel quickly grabbed you by the shoulders, terrified by the thought that all that blood was yours.

— GET AWAY FROM ME! GO AWAY! GO AWAY! ELLIE! — you screamed as if Joel’s touch was fire and burned you.

Ellie approached with tears in her eyes, but Joel was faster.

— Sweetheart, it’s me. Calm down, it’s just me. — Joel said quickly, hugging you while you tried to catch your breath and realized it wasn’t David or some other bad man trying to hurt you.

It was just Joel. Your dear Joel.

You clung to him like your lifeline. But you soon remembered: Ellie. Ellie. Ellie. Your body pulled away just enough to scan the snow and finally find her not far away. Your steps hurried toward her, and your arms wrapped around her.

Eyes once lit by fire now sparkled with tears.

Joel knew something very bad had happened, judging by your and Ellie’s behavior. Before, the walks were full of conversation between the female figures; now, they were filled with deadly silence. He was desperate to know how, why, and who had hurt the two of you in such a way — but didn’t want to press on a freshly opened wound. He endured the silence for two days. And then he saw you, at the edge of the campfire he had made to light and warm the night, pulling off the sacred scapular from your neck with your own hands and throwing it into the fire.

Joel’s heart raced at the scene.

— What are you doing? No… — the words vanished from Joel’s mouth, and you didn’t give him time to rephrase.

— It’s useless. — your voice was firm.

— What? — Joel couldn’t believe it.

— You and Ellie were always right. Faith. Is useless. — you said and stood up, walking far enough not to see the look Joel gave the girl who was watching from the other side of the fire.

Their eyes met with pain and unspoken words.

Days later, Ellie revealed to Joel what had happened; your noble act of wanting to deal with David alone and your willingness to die if it meant keeping her safe. He comforted the girl that night and took the guilt from her chest, wondering when it would be your turn to open your soul and let him try to heal the wounds. Joel felt so much rage — not at you, but at David — and for a moment wished the fire hadn’t consumed him so he could have killed him with his own hands. He comforted you as best he could, and little by little, you rose again. With time, life returned to your eyes and to Ellie’s — but the faith in your heart never came back. Your stomach churned at the sight of a cross, at hearing biblical words — you felt disgust.

God had abandoned you in those days at Silver Lake.

How could a man like that believe in the same God as you?

Why wasn’t God there for you?

Why wasn’t God there for Ellie?

Not even now could you understand, after one year living in Jackson. Life was beautiful, compared to before. It was almost as if the outbreak had never happened. As if monsters didn’t run outside the wall. Ellie had made friends. Joel was readjusting to society and almost felt like a normal man, if not for the guilt he carried on his shoulders. And you felt fulfilled: a beautiful daughter, a beautiful husband, a beautiful house, your dream job at the Jackson clinic, finally practicing your profession — but the emptiness in your heart was still there, filled with hatred.

Faith replaced by anger.

Joel and you never talked about it. He had an idea of what had happened, but your resistance to open up hurt him. And he, so understanding, always accepted it. The silence hung weekly when his arms caressed you after your sudden awakening from a nightmare. Until the silence became too much. Until the pain of not being able to comfort you through the trauma became too much to bear one night:

— I need to know. — the words came out in a whisper, rougher than Joel intended.

— Please, my darling, talk to me. — the soft voice faltered at the end.

And there, you opened your heart, described every detail: David’s filthy hands touching you, the faith you shared with that filthy man, the relief in knowing Ellie wasn’t in your place, the sensation of David’s heat still lingering on you, the filth, the smell, the fire…

That night, Joel listened to you and felt your pain.

It was so easy to feel comforted when you were near Joel, his large arms, his rough but precise hands in offering comfort, his loving gestures… Year after year in Jackson, the man showed his affection.

Until that comfort was taken from you.

When your eyes caught the image of Joel being carried by Tommy and Jesse to the clinic entrance, everything became meaningless, and the awareness that your life was slipping away became too big to ignore.

Yes, your life, because that’s what Joel was — if he died, you would die too.

Even if your heart kept beating, if his stopped, yours would somehow slow down, never again hearing his guitar playing on the porch, never again seeing his smile…

You quickly went to work on Joel, doing your best not to break — you couldn’t, not now when the man of your life was fading before your eyes.

The six hours passed like seconds while you performed the surgeries — one on the head and one on the knee.

When you finally removed your bloodied gloves and saw Joel somewhat stable, you allowed yourself to cry.

He might have sequelae, maybe his brain was too damaged to ever wake up, to be in a vegetative state, to die in a few days, to…

The sobs shook your body, and for the first time since Silver Lake, you are on your knees beside Joel’s stretcher.

“ Please, Lord, restore his life just as the faith is now being restored in my heart. “

And as if your request was heard, Joel lives.

With hand squeezes that became frequent, Joel lives.

With a coma of weeks that ended with his eyes opening, Joel lives.

With slow, dragging words that adjusted over time, Joel lives.

With a wheelchair and later a crutch that were needed until they no longer were, Joel lives.

With a slow recovery, Joel lives.

Joel lives.

And so does your faith.

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Notes; hey, im sorry if have grammar mistakes, I wrote and asked help for Chat GPT because english isn’t my first language, im brazilian. I really dont know how tumblr works and dont know how to write but is fun and i like to write was going in my mind. Thanks! I hope you like it :D

[scomiller]

A letter to your dearest Joel -

After his death, you send a letter to Joel, hoping for a reply that will never come.

“Before, our letters expressed words left unsaid out of pride. But now, my letters express words left unsaid because, even if I overcome my pride and speak them, Joel will not hear. “

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My dearest Joel,

Life has been worse since you left.

I write this letter to tell you that the feeling of failure in my chest hasn’t gone away since I couldn’t save you — and it remains even stronger now, for not being able to help Ellie in her revenge against Abby.

Jackson has lost the vibrant color of its streets. The wind no longer passes softly, swaying the curtains of our window, because I no longer keep them open. Since I stopped hearing the strings of your guitar on the porch, I’ve come to prefer silence. Our home is no longer welcoming. Your jackets — the ones I sleep clinging to — are losing your scent.

Your boots haven’t left the doorstep; I still haven’t had the courage to move them. My heart remains hopeful that, suddenly, I won’t see them untouched on the cold floor, but rather on your feet, ready for another morning patrol with Tommy — from which you always returned laughing for no reason at your brother’s nonsense.

The bed remains unmade, because I feel as if the warmth of your body has somehow stayed in our blanket — the one your large frame pulled throughout the night, and I would snuggle against your chest to keep warm. I can almost hear your raspy voice at dawn, insisting it was unconscious, even if neither of us truly believed that. You needed me close just as I need you now.

Instinctively, I keep reaching out for your comfort, but all I find is your empty side of the mattress, sunken from years of use. When I try to play your guitar, I remember the moments we shared on the porch — the learning attempts, the laughter that slipped from you when you heard my out-of-tune symphony, and the soft smile that appeared when you heard me sing the song you taught me.

I begged you so many times to sing “Future Days” that your raspy voice repeats in my mind every night.

I long so much for your miraculous return that I still place a plate where you used to sit at the table when I make dinner. I still cook the same amount of food, even though now it’s just me. I can almost feel your presence and the clinking of silverware on your plate.

I long so much for your miraculous return that I still fold your clothes every morning, in case you’re called to help Maria with the construction plans.

I long so much for your miraculous return that even though I once said many times you and Tommy had nothing in common, now, I can see your eyes through his.

I’m aware of your absence in every breath, in every step, in every word…, because even Jackson’s blazing summer feels cold without you.

I no longer wait for your miraculous return, because now, I’m on my way to you.

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notes: I don’t know if someone will really see or read this until the end, but if you did… HEY! How are you? Iam Scomiller, i don’t know how tumblr works but I will try. English isn’t my first language, so, I wrote and asked Chat’s GPT grammar help. Im sorry if have errors, Im from Brazil! I really don’t know how tumblr works, but iam accepting help and request for more scenarios, Im not a good writer but it’s fun and I will try. Thanks so much!