#deadlock imagines

[rustridden]

hanging out with some deadlock characters (haze, victor, drifter, ivy)

[ a/n ]: im a big fan of these weirdos. partially inspired by the fact that i'm in new york rn (specifically manhattan) and i keep talking to people that remind me of some of them

[ c/w ]: stalking mention on drifter's part

haze:

...she doesn't do 'hangouts'.

i mean, not like she really has time for it. sure, there's been one or two places she's seen in passing that she thought were interesting, but being as busy and focused as she is makes it a little impossible to cut time out

hanging out with haze is going to require persistence but patience. bring it up maybe once a week, but not every day or she'll just tell you you're being annoying. EVENTUALLY, if yall talk more and she ends up kinda liking tolerating you, she will acquiesce

to be honest, haze doesn't really have a personal life so when you ask her where she likes going she- strangely -doesn't answer as quickly and assuredly as she does to everything else

nowhere?? anywhere?? like she doesn't really know, but she would probably really like something chill but interesting since she doesn't want to do too much on one of her rare instances not working

while she's first getting to know you, a hangout where y'all mainly talk probably isn't a good call since she's a little awkward. maybe a historical bus tour so she could point out all the inaccuracies in the history for you. or a music show of some sort that has cello involved to help her open up about her pastime hobby

wouldn't really want to talk about work, and weirdly enough wants to know a lot about you. it's partially cause she doesn't trust you (LMAO) but also because she's... interested in you

the question of "Why are you spending time with me?" will eventually come up, but as long as you answer honestly you will continue to hang out afterwards

victor:

honestly? i don't think he has specific hangout 'spots' around where the ritual is held considering he moves for info so often, but he does like parks a lot.

unironically he also enjoys the cemeteries around manhattan

if you tease him about it he might misunderstand and think you're for real making fun of him, but after you clarify you're teasing he crosses his arms and gruffs out an "I knew that." lie with a slight flush to his cheeks

his go-to routine at the end of the day is to get a hot dog and hang out in a park or a cemetery if he's feeling like he wants more time to get away from people

if you're a talkative person, he enjoys listening and ads his comments here and there, but if you're a quieter person and prefer to listen that's good too. actually- he kind of would like someone to listen to him for a good 2-3 hours.

it's not hard to tell that he kind of wants someone to listen to him and his experiences. he totally doesn't care what you think also a lie kinda but he does find himself getting more comfortable and speaking faster when you show obvious signs of interest in what he has to say

likes his alone time and still goes off on his own a lot, but if you two get closer he's going to start wordlessly expecting you to just tag along, looking over his shoulder to check that you're following when he just starts wordlessly walking off after the ritual

drifter:

bruh. everywhere what 😭

he really doesn't care; while he's surprised and incredibly amused that you're willingly making an effort to spend time around him, he's not exactly privy to traditional hangout spots aside from dive bars

the types of places drifter hangs out in are seedy alleyways with a few lamplights burnt out. seedy bars that stay open all night, drawing in all the crowd you're told to avoid. train tracks if he can find them. street corner crossroads with groups of homeless, blending in.

he likes to blend in, hunt like a bobcat in the bushes. the first hangout is definitely a drink or five in some smelly ass bar you have to walk under a building for, but if you end up hanging out frequently enough he'll start teaching you how to tail people without getting caught

he'd probably try to push you away at first but- if you can push through, be persistent, give him some pushback -you'll be hanging out more frequently than you'll ever know. (he's going to stalk you

drifter is a big fan of being in any place he's not supposed to be. dude's an expert at hopping fences and if you can keep up?

he might even go out of his way to ask you to come along sometime, sliding up from the shadows behind you after a ritual with a silky "Up for some trouble tonight, cher?"

will play with you a bit too- despite the fact that his 'play' usually ends in gore and viscera, he likes you so the most he'll do is let you loose in times square and tell you you've got a 10 minute head start before he finds you. which he will, so you better get smart about your tactics to keep him entertained.

don't worry, he won't actually hunt you. probably : )

ivy:

OHHHMY GOD okay

ivy really wants new friends and loves talking to people so the fact that you!!! went out of your way!!! to hang with her!!!! dude she's PUMPED

if you're not from NY she's most DEFINTELY going to take you to spanish harlem to show you around

you're meeting everyone in the neighborhood and then her family like you're going home with two to-go plates and a new baby cousin you've gotta babysit next wednesday at 5

would probably make an excellent tour guide if she had the chance; after y'all look around y'all will either eat out if she's got cash or head to her house for dinner! she's one of those people that will bring any of their friends close to their circle so you're feeling very welcomed no matter where you go

kind of worries that she did too much on y'all's first hangout so if you say yes to hanging again/accept her invite she's actually like over the moon. "yall are close as hell by the end of the week she's just such an angel

(also, hanging out with you gives her some time away from her family. she loves them dearly, she just wants to develop her personal life and stuff too!!)

asks a lot of questions about you!! where are you from? what foods do you like? what are your hobbies? she just needs to know everything! gets SUPER flustered if you ask her questions, tho

"Oh- me?? Oh, haha,, w-well.. I'm not sure, I haven't really thought about my favorite food. Maybe I should list off the ones I know?? Okay, spaghetti I like... elote is soo good.. but then there's also Carlos' smoked pork-"

not really used to someone being genuinely interested in her so she's a little shy at first. just be patient with her and show genuine interest and she loosens up a bit tho :]

either way though, ivy is probably the best person to ask to hangout out of the entire bunch besides a few because she's just like super excited to make a friend and is probably the fastest route to a bestie if you're similar to her like at all

© rustridden 2026; thanks for reading! reblogs are greatly appreciated :] translations welcome with proper credit ("translated from rustridden on tumblr"). do not plagiarize my works for the purposes of AI or any other reason.

[rustridden]

❣ 2 } aim for the neck! (drifter x reader)

{ a/n }: part 1 right here but if you dont wanna read the context is that dude just walked up to reader at the bar. please give constructive criticism i havent written in 4 ever

The lengthy (frankly awkward) pause you unintentionally put the conversation in dawns on you when you notice the corner of his lip quirk up. It earns you the faintest glint of his teeth, and your jaw clenches as you clear your throat to try and ease some of the tension in your shoulders. If asked, you’re sure you couldn’t put a pin on what feeling is looming over you right now. It’s almost visceral. This strange, undeniable pull that keeps the thought of just getting up and leaving far from your mind, as if it's the last thing on your mind. There’s literally no way in hell that this guy is some sort of nightmare made manifest, because if that was the case your survival instincts had to be absolutely terrible. The energy around him feels.. uneasy. Charged and steady, like a volatile electrical current just behind a wall. The dim lights overhead flicker when a particularly loud beat pumps through the speakers, and you swear for a split second that his eyes almost look like they’re glowing.

You suppress a shiver that threatens to rip through your back, shifting on your seat instead to help ease the anxiety from his attention. “Nothing you just… you look familiar.” The response you stammer out doesn’t seem to convince him as he raises his brows a bit and hums. Instead he peers down into his own glass, a dark, viscous drink that almost looks black in the bright blue light behind the barn (it coats the side of the glass when he sways a bit). You don’t remember watching him order one, but you are tipsy. “Familiar?”, he repeats, and he chuckles again. “Don’t get that one too often. Don’t look like it’s a good thing either; you look like you’ve seen a ghost.” You push your hair back from your face. You hadn’t noticed how pallid you felt in here, but when your fingers make contact with your forehead you feel the slight bead of sweat at your brow. “Maybe not. I know I haven’t seen you here before, at least.” The hand that’s propped underneath his chin falls, crossing over his other arm. “Where else you seen me, then?”, he drawls, sounding deceptively indifferent despite his frankly shameless prying.

The way he looks at you makes you feel strangely transparent, as if he already knows what you’re avoiding thinking about, but it seems too foolish to consider that seriously. Sure, something about him is definitely off, but to go so far as to assume he’s a mind reader is worse than the nightmare thing. Still though… you know you’re a little drunk, but it’d be dumb not to trust your instinct. No matter how charming he is with his accent and aloof disposition. “Would it be corny to say my dreams?” He smiles fully now, wolfish and amused as he leans back a bit. “Maybe in worse company.” “I’m just… not sure what else to call them.” You sniff a bit and take a sip of your drink. It’s probably not super normal to tell a stranger this but you’re not the one who started the conversation. “Maybe.. nightmares? Or.. something dirtier?”, he asks, and you find yourself rolling your eyes to shake off the flush. You could surely blame it on the alcohol (or the way his deep drawl draws out the words and settles somewhere deep in your belly without your permission), but something tells you he’d be able to see through that. Not that you’d confirm it, but the way you stiffen up a bit seems to tell him all he needs to know.

“Something like that.” You let the conversation trail off. You’re not sure what he’ll do next, but you don’t feel his presence leave. The track on the jukebox changes and you notice the crowd has thinned a bit, even if not by much. It’s slower this time, a bit quieter than it was a few moments ago. You’re sure you’d feel awkward about the pause in conversation in any other case as he watches you glance around, not failing to notice the way your eyes flit towards the exit. No fear, just keeping an eye on it, making sure it’s visible. Smart. “I’ve been comin’ here since I sailed in and I ain’t seen you once, even though you talk like a regular.”, he says, and you find yourself perking up a bit at that. Sailed in? Hm, you figured because of his accent, but you can’t help your curiosity. “From where? If uh.. you don’t mind me asking.” The stranger waves a hand dismissively as if batting your caution to the wind. “Well, I’m from all over cher. Everywhere and nowhere.” Sketchy. Squinting your eyes a bit at him and tilting your head seems to give you angle to look for something he’s unsure of, and despite his previous nonchalance you see him lean back the smallest bit at the sudden scrutiny.

“Your accent says otherwise. I’ll guess Louisiana? It’s got a little bit of everywhere and is in the middle of nowhere.” A surprised brow quirks at your rebuttal, slight glint of teeth catching in the light overhead. “Clever. You know it?” “Yeah, I got family from there. Boudreauxs.” The smile that crosses over his face doesn’t seem all that wolfish this time around. You can’t help the little flutter in your chest at it, the slight stain to them doing nothing to overshadow just how handsome it looks on him. You want him to do it again, especially when he tilts his head a little bit as if leaning into it. “Boudreauxs! Look at that, found a little piece of home all the way out here. Where they stay?” You think you catch a hint of something a bit.. flat(?) in his voice, but you shrug it off. You find yourself pursing your lips a bit, trying to remember. It’s hard to keep tabs on all the cities and parish names since you don’t exactly live there, but you do know where your mom grew up for the most part. “Uh.. Lawtell I think.” He sucks his teeth a little bit, still grinning. “The sticks. Ain’t nothin' out there.” You snort a little bit, and despite your prior unease you feel the last of it fall off with the laugh he draws out of you. “Seriously. They have pretty good food and their Mardi Gras is fun. Nothing like New Orleans though, of course.” You bow your head in acknowledgement, and he readjusts in his chair with a grin. “Nothin’ is. No place on Earth like her. These other places got their charm, though. Don’t have any bars underground like this one. On account of the flooding and all.” “Ah, yeah. Not really good for business when your customers have to swim to the counter.” It’s his turn to laugh now, subtle but with a bit of a rumble to it. The beginnings of a slow song cut into the gap left between the conversation, an oldie. You think you remember hearing it in the kitchen as a kid once. Or maybe walking down the street? The dim orange of the squirrel-cage lightbulbs hanging from the ceiling almost seem to sway with the music, casting a warm glow over the dancefloor like an invitation. Pairs of patrons gather around, offering just large enough of a space for one or two more. When your stranger casts a glance at where you’re looking he looks back at you with a tilted head, leaning just over his shoulder in a slightly lower tone. “You dance?”

The question makes you widen your eyes a bit as you look back at him, almost sure he’s making fun of you. The clear tone of harmonization from The Platters’ ‘My Prayer’ almost lures you in like a choir of sirens, and you can feel yourself doubting your ability to resist the pull. You don’t dance, at least up until this point. And when you look back up at him you can’t discern an ounce of insincerity, your resolve waning further. Whether it’s the liquor in your system or the burden of being isolated to your apartment and a mundane routine, you decide you might as well. Hell, when’s the next time an attractive stranger is going to ask you to dance? When was the last time one did? “Hell no, but I’m gonna.” The response makes him draw up from his seat, large hands resting on the counter and chair’s edge respectively as he stands to his full height. He’s.. tall. And a lot burlier than you thought. Was he hunching over just now, or are you a bad judge of size? You could’ve sworn sitting he couldn’t have been that much taller than you, but here you are nearly 5 inches underneath him and feeling awfully small when you’re in such close proximity. A slight heat draws to your cheeks and you find yourself nearly tripping over your feet to get some distance in hopes he doesn’t notice. He watches with interest, and even though it’s not audible you swear his shoulders shake a bit as if chuckling at your surprise.

You scrunch your brow and look away for a second out of embarrassment, but it doesn’t stop him from drawing closer, hand resting just above the small of your back as you both move to the floor. It trails from your back to your arm as you turn to face one another, that tension you felt in the air coming back when you have to look up at him to make eye contact, and you quickly dart them away. The scent of something almost like metal and mist (?) hits you as you draw in, undertones of his natural scent making it so that you can’t really pin exactly what he smells like outside of it being,, him. Dim lights dance him as you move, almost shadowing you and blocking any view of the other patrons behind him. It’s impossible not to focus on him, no escape from the way his hands draw up your forearms to guide your wrists up to rest at his neck. He tilts his head a bit as he draws the left one upwards, almost as if smelling you in turn. Something in his face- small and imperceptible -twitches, and he draws the other one up to meet behind his neck. Your hands flatten just below the nape of his neck, and you feel the tail ends of his hair tangle between your fingers. If the action bothers him, he doesn’t show it.

The slow pull of the music moves you to sway at first, but you feel it’s slow pull guide the both of you into a slow rythm, drawing closer. He’s large, but you wouldn’t quite say that he was ‘warm’. More of this encompassing force that cast his shadow over you as if it were trying to consume you. You didn’t really think about how many drinks you had until you stood up. The room isn’t spinning, thankfully, but the lights do feel a little fuzzier. It seems that as soon as they start feeling too bright his shade alleviates it, your head resting on his chest before you can really stop yourself. You feel something tense almost as soon as it relaxes, almost like he flinched. But your slow rhythm continues, mindlessly letting him sway you as his head goes to rest on top of yours. You’re both quiet, his head shifting. The slight rise and fall of his chest shows you he’s probably smelling your hair, fingers flexing where they are in your hips. His nails don’t rip your clothes, instead poking just enough for you to feel their sharpness through the fabric. Restraint.

tell me what you think im having fun writing these :]