my muse for ellie has been waning for a while. instead of forcing myself into it like i attempted to last time, i’m going to bump her into a secondary account status and let her recharge. if you’d like to, you can follow my main account. he has tlou and twd verses for all of your apocalyptic pleasures. if not, i’ll see you guys on bouts of swinging back around here.
' i didn’t cry! I just… caught something in my eye. '
undertale | accepting.
castiel is extraordinary.
infected bodies burn to ash at touch, human made plague faltering underfoot. abilities and strengths he explains in bouts–when she curses and grabs at herown split flesh, it takes naught but a fleeting touch to stitch the wound together. no marks, no broken skin, no blood.
what the fuck, dude?
he’s glad she trusts him more, now, than before. ageless thing that he is, helping a child cut throughamerica … he recognizes that her innocence has long been sullied by death and horror, but she is still a little girl, no matter what else.
taking her back to a time before the infection was easy. he remembered, and he moved. the gnarled hillsides spring to life, the broken concrete of city sprawl mended. i can’t keep you here forever. but a day will suffice.
he watched her practically devour a bag of popcorn after warily chomping down the first piece. fresh food, treats, living billboards, wo-rking technology. castiel was afraid it would all be too much for her. at first, he suspects it was.
but their day is ending. the sun has turned to watercolor on the horizon. the fireflies–real ones–that settled on her hand and her hair flutter away, carelessly, free, into the open.
he smiles. it reaches his eyes.
‘ pollen. ‘ he knows that’s not what it is, but he doesn’t want to tarnish her pride. ‘ that must be what was in your eye. ‘
x.
“ it’s called a... flower crown - ? something like that. a friend showed me how to make them, “ ellie’s fingers are going to smell like daises for days. augh. “ i snuck a flower into doc’s hair when he was dozing earlier. heh. “
x.
“ i’ve spent my entire goddamn life trying to be what everyone else wants me to be. i’m... i’m finally starting to sort my shit out, y’know - ? all this can get pretty fucking crazy - i can’t argue with that - but it’s for me and i wouldn’t have it any other way. “
❝ Pretty much, with some variation. ❞ The guitar shifts on his back as he straightens up, peering at the group of - well, hippies lathering themselves in paints. That man’s not the only one getting himself decorated for the festivities. ❝ C’mon, we can see if they’ll lend us some paints. ❞
“ have i ever told you how awesome you are - ? ‘cause you kinda are, “ falling back to the doctor’s side, ellie stays one eye on the... hippies ( and what do you call a group of hippies - ? a patch of flowers - ) with their mix of paints. “ hey, do i get to paint something on you - ? i promise it won’t look all jacked up. i got super steady hands. “
❝ Paranoia never does anybody any good, ❞ the Doctor muses, ❝ and the promise of freedom only really lasts as a motivator until something more enticing comes along. Your world, it’s ripe with paranoia and distrust. People start t’ believe that the only ones they can rely on are themselves. That’s what really kills humanity - not the event that triggers the apocalypse, but the slow degradation of that… human connection. ❞
He keeps walking for a second after Ellie has stopped, pausing only when he realises that his proverbial shadow has suddenly detached from his side. He looks back at her with a curious ruffle to his eyebrows, glancing at the pair of men.
❝ Ah - body paint, ❞ is his succinct explanation. ❝ Humans used t’ do it for fun at these sorts of things. Somethin’ ta do with the freedom of expression, probably. ❞ He holds up two fingers. ❝ For here, specifically, love and peace. Y’know, as opposed t’ hate and war. ❞
“ ... - freedom of expression. is that one of those ‘ it’s what it sounds like ‘ things - ? “ whether or not the zone had it is a point of view. the peace sign on his back doesn’t look hugely different from graffiti she’s seen. she glances back at the doctor, intrigued. “ can we go over there - ? “
Michelle K., Paper and Glue.
I’m finally at peace
but it feels wrong
Neil Gaiman, Stardust
I still have time to turn into flowers, clay, white-eyed memory…
CHARACTER AESTHETIC: the astrophile.
“keep your eyes on the s t a r s, and your feet on the g r o u n d.“
