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crowley/wrathion thats all

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drifter really was like [pines after the most morally good person possible whose family died to the blood disease and also is dying themselves]

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kenny ( telltale’s twd season one ) starters.

“ i’m sorry.”

“ hey, get up.”

“ be careful in there.”

“ try to get some rest.”

“ do YOU need any help?”

“ ain’t nothing gonna faze us.”

“ we have to take care of each other.”

“ i panicked, y’know. i’m not proud of it.”

“ important to stay honest with each other.”

“ hell yeah! we’re a team, man. me and you.”

“ you know i’ll do what it takes to keep everyone safe.”

“ well, you slept in a barn. lucky you don’t have spiders in your hair.”

“ i’m not letting somebody else get eaten today. especially a good friend.”

“ you don’t just end it ‘cause it’s hard. you stick it out and help the folks you care about.”

“ we better get going or we won’t hear the end of it.”

“ on the odd chance things got too bad, we could hop on my boat, i guess.”

“ you got that ride to ___ if you want it.”

“ well, this is as far as we’re going.”

“ hey there! you friendly?”

“ we should get comfy and look for anything useful. we could be in here a while.”

“ this ain’t exactly fort knox.”

“ we’ll do our damnedest.”

“ we’re lucky as hell nobody got nabbed on the way in here.”

“ seems pretty dangerous out there, so we oughta wait for things to clear up.”

“ hey. thanks for looking out for me and my family.”

“ you got a second?”

“ i can’t stop seeing him in my head.”

“ barricade the living hell out of the door behind me.”

“ i’ll get back as fast as i can!”

“ close call back there.”

“ i hope that’s the sound of us winning this thing.”

“ we got beds, we got water and most importantly, we got lights. there are worse places to call home.”

“ we don’t have TIME for that! i’m sorry, but we have to go, NOW!”

“ hey! you wanna calm down, for a fucking minute?”

“ you know, you like to think you are the leader of this little group, but we can make our own goddamn decisions!”

“ this isn’t your own personal dictatorship.”

“ i guess some people aren’t going to be happy with your choices.”

“ you’re one to talk.”

“ he didn’t make it, did he?”

“ you KNEW about these people?”

“ okay, don’t pop a gasket.”

“ oh, calm down, princess. i’ll do it myself.”

“ you found it too, huh?”

“ they’re hiding something. behind this door.”

“ it’s my job to be paranoid.”

“ he locked it up REAL tight the second we came in. i definitely heard a noise back there.”

“ all right, professor. what do you have in mind?”

“ all right, sounds like you got a plan.”

“ jesus, man! did you find something?”

“ will you stop that banging? we gotta find another way outta here!”

“ we gotta get the fuck outta here!”

“ shit. is he dead?”

“ fuuuuck… if he’s dead…”

“ you know what has to happen. think about it.”

“ we’ll mourn him later. but right now, we gotta keep him from coming back.”

“ come on, you can’t be in the middle on this one. you’ve gotta have my back this time!”

“ idunno. seems like a longshot.”

“ well, there’s our way out.”

“ get in here! i got an idea.”

“ i told you there was something up with this room. it’s a goddamned human slaughter house!”

“ just stick behind me, in case anything goes down.”

“ stay close.”

“ where’s my family, asshole?!!”

“ don’t you fucking hurt him/her!!”

“ let him/her go, goddamn it!”

“ i’ll be fine… i’m just not as young as i used to be.”

“ i’ve changed my mind. i want you to come with us when we leave.”

“ don’t worry about that, it’s ours now.”

“ what?! did you get some meal back there the rest of us missed out on?”

“ we have to take this stuff.”

“ what do you mean by that?”

“ looks like this is our lucky day.”

“ where do you come down on stayin’ or goin’?”

“ we’ve been talking about it, but you made up your mind yet?”

“ okay, just like last time. over the rig, into the pharmacy and scrape together whatever supplies are left.”

“ we’re outta options. somethin’s better than nothin’.”

“ shit! the ladder’s come loose. i’m not sure how many more trips she’s got in her.”

“christ. i’ve heard your opinion. what’s done is done.”

“ i’m fine, i’ve got this. gimme your hand.”

“ i’m fine. shit, i’m sorry, pal. i thought i’d be healed up better.”

“ what the– what the hell is that?! a walker?”

“ knock it the fuck off!”

“ don’t forget underneath the counter this time.”

“ we’re still clear. let’s hustle.”

“ out! let’s fucking get out!”

“ somebody’s gotta be thinking about this shit.”

“ it’s hell on earth, and it’s coming this way.”

“ none of this is gettin’ any easier.”

“ it’s the way it’s gotta be.”

“ what? i gotta ask!”

“ hmm. musta’ been a real piece a’ shit if you had to haul off and kill him.”

“ fuck. we don’t got many of those.”

“ jesus, are you okay?”

“ calm down back there! that’s nuts.”

“ i hit something. we gotta stop.”

“ god damn it. keep your eyes peeled.”

“ i don’t know! fuck! just… stop, would ya?”

“ now what the fuck’s the problem?”

“ get in. we’re leaving this crazy bitch.”

“ you’re a murderer, ___. we can’t have you with us.”

“ if we keep you with us, how long until you get ME?”

“ this fucker WORKS?”

“ i’ll be damned. how the hell do we get it movin’?”

“ whoa, is this what it looks like?”

“ i can’t believe it…”

“ we can’t act like he’s DEAD either.”

“ man, this could be exactly what we need.”

“ nobody is ignoring nothin’. i’m not worried, you shouldn’t be either.”

“ we’re smart guys, we can figure it out.”

“ sonuva bitch! whatever you did lit the dash up!”

“ let’s fucking enjoy this!”

“ come on, let’s see if she’ll move.”

“ so that’s it? we’re cut loose?”

“ want a ride?”

“ i’ll be up front. i don’t wanna hear any nonsense until we get where we’re goin’.”

“ make me.”

“ how the fuck do you ‘calm down’ after a day like today?!”

“ just leave me - the fuck - alone! i don’t need you!”

“ well… fuck… just…. who, then? you want me to? i’ll do it.”

“ she couldn’t - s-s-she just… fuck, oh - oh fuck!”

“ what do we do?”

“ you and me, we, uh… fuck it. let’s just get to the ocean.”

“ can you just leave me alone?”

“ fuck! fuck! fuck! FUCK! FUUUUCK!!”

“ that’s fucking stupid, ___.”

“ that thing’s not full of milk. that’s gas or diesel; something that’s going to explode.”

“ and why don’t i show you how this thing works, in case something happens.”

“ that’s not the plan.”

“ i thought that fucking thing was broken.”

“ ya’ll might wanna rethink your plan.”

“ what’re you yammerin’ on about?”

“ little too close, don’t ya think?”

“ oh, gimme a fucking break!”

“ because that doesn’t make a lick of damn sense.”

“ i don’t know if i can, ___. couldn’t do it before. can’t do it now.”

“ i’m fine… just… i’m fine. what’s all the ruckus?”

“ son of a bitch. that bastard’s fucking with us again! it’s another trap!”

“ what in the hell is goin’ on?!”

“ whatever, man. i find whoever’s doing that, i’ll ring their motherfucking bell for ‘em.”

“ there’s gotta be a boat… there’s gotta be.”

“ well, screw you. i ain’t givin’ up that easy.”

“ you got a better fucking idea?”

“ it ain’t gonna work.”

“ why the hell are we hiding?”

“ geeks. is that what you call them?”

“ fuck. gunshot must’a brought ‘em back.”

“ come on, man. one good jump!”

“ oh, hey. you made it back. good job, good job!”

“ you wanna throw down again like back on the train? ‘cause i fight better when i’m shitfaced.”

“ what the hell you looking at?”

“ yeah, well what is? we are FUCKED!”

“ hell, if now ain’t the time for a drink…”

“ you want the good news or the bad news?”

“ and just how exactly do you figure we do this?”

“ and what do you want in return for all this help you’re giving?”

“ i’d rather take a chance on doing something than just sitting around here, waiting to die.”

“ can i talk to you a minute?”

“ what, are you disappointed?”

“ fuck! fuck! do you think they saw us?”

“ little help here?”

“ let’s not start high-fiving each other just yet.”

“ here, let me give you a hand.”

“ if we can just get this damn door open. come on, damn you!”

“ this ain’t the best time! whatever you did, save it for later!”

“ wait a minute… what are you saying?”

“ you little pissant! you are fucking dead, you hear me? DEAD!”

“ and i’m supposed to give a crap about his good intentions?”

“ son of a bitch! i knew we couldn’t trust that fucker.”

“ YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!! … they fucked us.”

“ they kicked the shit outta me and tossed me in here.”

“ how are you doing, with, uh… everything happening there?”

“ this is not happening… everything is so fucked…”

“ don’t get fucking smart with me.”

“ where the hell do you get off?”

“ that’s what i was thinking.”

“ that could’ve gone better.”

“ how do we get out of here?”

“ okay, now your life depends on it. how do you get out of here?”

“ how long do you think we have?”

“ i haven’t given up EVERYTHING to die because we were stupid.”

“ why you acting like what’s happened ain’t happened?”

“ i’m angry as hell.”

“ i never really thought about it that way.”

“ don’t you say that.”

“ you stick it out as long as you can. you do whatever you have to. i could’ve done more.”

 “ yeah, try to keep your mouth shut.”

“ we can get you up. we can, uh…”

“ do you have any bullets left?! this has only got one left in it.”

“ get the fuck outta here. go back. this is NOT a discussion!”

“ what did i just say?!”

“ it’s just somethin’ i gotta do. you know that.”

“ i’m gonna kill him!”

“ over my dead body.”

“ you don’t have to tell me, i was ready to tear the man’s head off.” 

“ i don’t plan on dilly-dallying.” 

“ goddamn it! i’m getting sick of this shit.” 

“ what the hell are you talkin’ about?!”

“ it’s not gonna happen!”

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the funniest thing abt drifter who is from thousands of years in the future is that you could make her listen to an ariana grande song and be like “this is an ancient relic of earths history” and she would be like oh thats fascinating

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Johnny Cash - “God’s Gonna Cut You Down" American V: A Hundred Highways (2006)

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holds drifter out to all of u: please adore her

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’      ...trapped.      ’ she repeats with a thoughtful hum. is that how she sees them, survivors and killers alike, rodents in a cage? the jackal's head tilts with subtle amusement. to be trapped is to be without purpose, like herself, on a dying, desolate planet. to be caught in this strange new realm, this world, it's renewal. it's salvation.

’ do tell, what grandiose impact were you to make on the world from which you came? ’ she presses, and the drifter leans closer now, her snout only inches from the girl's face. pink eyes are narrowed to slits. ’ were you important enough to make a different choice for yourself? ’

clawed hand reaches then to grasp her chin, tilts it upwards, to better look at her face. ’ every creature has its purpose, little human. for some, that purpose is death itself. there is no shame in that. such is the natural state of the world. ’

the creature looks out of place,   tall and bright amongst trees and endless dark, and the way she speaks is enough for meg to stare at her like she's just suggested something impossible. it was, after all, suggesting she just not play had to be about as possible as clawing her way out of this darkness and back to a life that now felt like ancient history.

she holds resentment, alright, but the creature doesn't seem to fully grasp why. and maybe it's the exhaustion, maybe it's how her earlier wound has her feeling more on edge, more paranoid than normal, but the survivor is quick to respond:       ' do you think i have a CHOICE? '       it comes across harsher than intended, frustration directed at the wrong person, the wrong place, especially when the creature's weapon was well within her reach.

' do you think YOU have a choice? '       an exhale, and her breathing momentarily stutters, a wave of dizziness spotting her vision. she blinks fiercely to refocus, takes a too-sharp inhale to steady herself:       ' we're trapped here. wherever you came from, you have to know what that means. '

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judgement.

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edensflower asked   :      007. — Punch my muse. (drifter @ saki for something annoying he said to piss her off. just seems funny)

it’s  a  rare  sight  to  see  a  flicker  of  emotion  in  the  jackal’s  eyes,  when  she  takes  such  pride  in  carrying  herself  with  a  shroud  of  indifference.   but  there  is  something  about  him,  like  an  itch  she  can’t  scratch,  buried  deep  under  her  skin,  that  grates  her.   it’s  in  one  swift,  fell  movement  that  she  turns  on  him,  and,  without  second  thought,  claws  swipe  down  clean  across  his  cheek,  snaring  on  the  skin  of  freshly  opened  wound.

it  takes  a  moment  for  her  to  free  her  claw  from  where  it’s  hooked,  and  once  it  is,  her  hand  finds  new  purpose,  wrapped  around  his  throat.       ’      test  not  my  patience,  human.      ’      she  snaps,  jowls  drawn  back  in  a  sharp-toothed  snarl.   he  needed  a  reminder,  perhaps,  that  basal  instincts  are  animalistic  and  cruel—despite  her  self-imposed  states  of  composure.

and  it’s  a  beast  that's  difficult  to  tame  again;  vague  memories  of  a  lost  time  remind  her  of  an  old  friend,  who  would  remind  her  now,  that  that’s  enough.  every  part  of  her  wants  to  sink  claws  deeper  into  his  throat,  but  she  relents  and  lets  him  go  with  a  strained  exhale  of  a  sigh.   

’      you  will  forgive  me.      ’      she  tells  him,  not  quite  a  suggestion,  as  her  tone  steadies.   she  wipes  her  hand  clean  on  her  cloak,  left  with  nothing  but  mild  annoyance  for  how  his  blood  stained  it  now.       ’      i  forgot  myself  a  moment.   i  needn’t  concern  myself  with  pests.      ’

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vignette: panacea hyper light drifter ost

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this came to me in a vision 

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hmm

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’       games?           ’        curious,  she  blinks  languid  and  slow.   she had never quite thought of them that way, these trials, as a game, but, rather, as fulfilling her end of a devil's deal. though it's true, that she harbors nothing but indifference towards duty; everything serves a purpose, and some of things, simply, were made to die. she perceives nothing unnatural of the state of these 'games,' as the survivor had called them.

’ ah. you hold resentment for... this, your situation, and yet, you participate. ’ the drifter answers, gentle and cool. there are no sharp edges, only raw, honest fascination.

’ no. i care not for the outcome. ’ not that she would doubt her own prowess; her skills are sharp, and she very much knows what she is capable of. ’ and yet, you do. for what reason do you engage, if not to partake in your duty? ’

@cheribou : i did what i had to do. / from drifter sorry for the horrors.

athlete looks upon the jackal wearily, and doesn't move a muscle - not to run away, not to draw nearer. of all the things she's seen here, fiendish creatures and nightmares that tested her to the brink of her sanity, she still isn't sure how she should feel about this one. she's not even sure if what she's seeing is real, but whether that's because of having to tilt her head up to peer at the canine figure, or tainted blood that had her paranoid, on edge, seeing hallucinations around every corner, she wasn't sure.

one thing was for sure, she was both warm and cold all at once despite being feverish all over - and the canine figure in question was speaking to her.

' i've heard that before, '       she offers in return, sharp and guarded as ever, all while she tries to keep herself still and grounded.       ' but you don't really seem like you care about these games - whether you win or lose. ' an observation, one that has brows knitted, meeting where sweat pools.     ' YOU DON'T, do you? '

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illustrations for the 500k alt drifter fan fiction that only exists in my brain

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see i love drifter bc shes just so cool and collected all the time. mysterious murder pubpy that spouts ominous bullshit