#drifter headcanon

[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.

[nymphsgardenwall]

Drifter Relationship Headcanons

Warnings: Talk of murder, and unhealthy relationship dynamics, nsfw towards the end

Okay so first things first, for any sort of relationship that goes beyond just having met him and not happening to die for one reason or another; if it is in anyway going to work you have be some kind of level of evil, or at the very least neutral or uncaring about his homicidal tendencies. This is not a man you can fix, he doesn’t want to be ‘fixed’, he is as he is and that’s all there is too it.

Now not that I don’t think he wouldn’t mess around with someone whose good or otherwise holds a moral high ground against him, but it would not be healthy in the slightest. It would be the single most catastrophic relationship ever that is probably built on a lot of pent up sexual frustration and hatred for the other person with each side trying to convince the other of their ‘way’ being right. Drifter is absolutely trying to break their partner mentally and emotionally so they cave and maybe will even intentionally setup situations where either option is horrible, and involves killing someone but a choice still has to be made. No matter which choice is made, he will remind his partner constantly about it, and how it is their fault, they killed, they went against their moral conduct and… doesn’t that just feel so nice? To let go for once? Didn’t it feel nice?

Worst partner ever in this scenario -49209029403/10

On the other hand if you’re more neutral in regards to his nature, it can work well, you see each other every once in awhile, you don’t necessarily encourage any bad behavior in one another. Although Drifter does try to convince you every once awhile, but he’s not as pressed about it, he understands it’s ‘not your thing’, so long as you don’t get on his case for what he does he doesn’t try to get you involved. Try being the keyword, he still tracks in blood at where ever it is you’re meeting, and he will want to talk to you about an interesting kill or fight he had while he’s been traveling and he will want you to listen to every last detail. This is actually probably the healthiest version of relationship he can get close to having. (DoorDrift ship I feel works best for this man so well, because while Doorman is more neutral on killing in his current day to day, he doesn’t care that his partner still does it, so long as they stay safe.)

In the middle ground of scenarios where you both have similar murderous intent, it’s a situation where anyone on the outside looking in sees it as a horrible horrible relationship in such a way that you are both perfect for each other and literally no one else, because getting anyone or anything else involved would be a crime against humanity. You’re both terrible people, but at least you’re terrible together and not with some other poor fool. (as with scenario A where Drifter is someone whose a good person) You do however both encourage some really bad traits in one another. Drifter actively endorses jealousy and possessiveness, but it’s not a one way street, it goes both ways.

He wants his partner to get angry and upset that he was speaking a little too sweetly to that bartender, he wants to see you drag them behind the alley and threaten, maim, or even kill them, even better if you make sure he’s present to watch or instead you take out your frustrations with him directly and tell him off for doing that. He loves it. It’s like proof to him that you are fighting for your claim on him. There’s something animalistic about it that ignites in him when he sees you’ve got a jealousy streak and you’re dragging that person at the bar who was flirting with him into a dumpster fire to watch them burn alive.

It’s romantic.

Of course you’re free to do the same to him as well, he’s more than willing and ready to prove that he will fight for his claim as your partner too. He’s not even really mad about it, he’s more eager than anything else when some person on the street came up to you and started chatting you up, and you gave them a playful smile when they asked for your number. You’ll find the next day the call you get from the number only plays the sound of labored pained and muffled breathing before the call cuts out. Drifter greets you the next day and will make some off-hand comment about apologizing for the call being cut short.

The actual day to day with him in any of these scenarios is dependent on if you are traveling with him or not. As his name implies he doesn’t stay in one place for long, so either you move with him or you stay where you are and he’ll stop by once every few months, sometimes more, sometimes less, depends on his mood. Otherwise be ready to answer a lot of unknown numbers from your phone where he’ll give you general updates about what he’s up to, ask about you and what not. If he’s gone for a particularly long while when he comes back he’ll stick around longer than usual to makeup for lost time. Take note this is another aspect of himself he’s unwilling to change, he just doesn’t like to settle anywhere so don’t expect him to, either follow him around or don’t those are your options.

If you are traveling with him expect a lot of sleeping around in uncomfortable places, he is a literal murder hobo and will just sleep on the streets if that’s where he ends up for the night. Of course though if you’re offering to buy cheap motels and what not he doesn’t mind mooching off you and getting to stay in a bed for the day.

He smells. Point blank, he often goes long stretches without showering, so hope that it rains in the night, otherwise you will have to buy a place to stay at for the night to convince him to shower. Or if he’s visiting you after being out for a few months he can use your bathroom. It’s not that he’s unwilling necessarily, he’s just more so used to it roughing it, and he’d rather save his own bit of pocket money he steals from his victims on drinks at some seedy bar.

He doesn’t care what you really are, human, Ixian, ghost, vampire, or whatever else, but if you are on the more mortal side of things where your lifespan is pretty short, or has a very finite end in comparison to himself, he may offer to turn you. He only ever asks once or twice and then never brings it up again. Kind of just comes to realize you intend on being here for a good time, not a long time, and it does upset him a little but he gets over it quickly. He does respect whatever decision you make, and whenever you inevitable die he will be upset. Not that anyone could really tell, he’ll still act the same more or less the same. But there’s moments where something someone says reminds him of you, or he sees something in passing that you liked and he gets all quiet. I think if you’ve lived long enough to get into your old age (like around 80-90+ years where you could go any one of these days now.), he may even offer to have the pleasure of killing you himself. He takes it as a great honor and act of love if you do let him.

Gifts from him are a little random at first, small weird trinkets he gives you that just reminded him of you. Once he gets to know you better they become more targeted towards your interests just don’t question him on where he got them, or do if you want to hear about who he murdered because they had that nice bag of that character you liked on them. If you’re a vampire or other similar creature where you require meat or blood to sustain yourself he may also ‘bring home dinner’ for you.

Date nights vary if you travel with him or not, if you are with him, then the only place he really offers is a shady bar, it’s the one place he isn’t getting dress coded at too harshly and he can afford. Otherwise if you want to go to like some rundown diner late at night, you can. However he doesn’t really see the point if you both can’t/don’t eat regular food, but sure if you want for a night you two can pretend like you’re just a normal couple out on an impromptu evening date. If you’re murderous like him, he may try to find something more personal and ‘fun’ for you both to do together. He’ll find some poor soul to torture, or find an isolated group of people to hunt down, you just leave the details all to him.

If you don’t travel with him, then he’s down for whatever you want to do at your home. Although he does sort of see your place as where he really relaxes for once, so honestly he doesn’t want to really go out when he’s visiting you. He will if you ask, but he’ll grumble about it and prefer you both sit at home and be lazy together.

NSFW

He’s shameless horny with you, and he’s a very physical touch type of person. He likes to always have an arm draped around you, a hand playing with your hair, or if you have earrings, piercings, or other jewelry like a necklace he loves to mess and twirl them with his claws. It will quickly devolve into his hand starting to travel under your shirt or into your pants so he can grab at your thighs. He wants to place his head in the crook of your neck so he can inhale your scent and give you a few ‘love bites’(These are not gentle, he will break skin and take a little sip here and there.) Which is another thing he has a scent kink, his nose is really sensitive to smells and if you haven’t seen each other in awhile the first thing he does is bring you in for a hug so he can get a good whiff of your scent. Likes to rub himself up against you as well to ‘mark you’ with his scent too. Be careful (Or don’t) but he this can and will devolve into dry humping. He will raid your dirty laundry for underwear that smells of you and you will never see it again. (He gets too excited and rips it up.)

In bed I feel he mostly actually falls as being a switch rather than being purely dominant, however it takes awhile before he’d be willing to bottom for you. It’s not even really a thing about trust, it’s more so about proving you are cut out to top for him. Show him you’re strong enough to hurt him, make him whine and beg for you, grab his hair and tell him how you want things to go down and then you can top him. Otherwise you are relegated to bottom duty, and pray you have the fortitude to withstand being his bottom. Every sexual encounter will leave you bruised, aching, bitten and drained. However if there is one singular morally correct thing that Drifter ascribes to is that he’s big on consent. It’s not fun for him if his partner doesn’t enthusiastically enjoy what he’s doing. (I think he’d be fine with consensual non-consent, but he prefers if you are actively enjoying whatever pain he’s inflicting on you.) In either scenario he doesn’t really care, but he has a bit more pride for you if you manage to top him, or as a bottom you can take a lot of physical pain to the extent that he doesn’t have to ‘hold himself back’.

He cannot unfortunately finger you unless you actively want him to tear your insides out with his claws, which he isn’t entirely against if you really wanted that, but I’m assuming most would not of course. However he does prefer to give head rather than receive it, not that he doesn’t mind when you offer, he just prefers when he has you pried open for him and you’re squirming around him, or you have your hands buried in his hair and you’re face fucking him. He just likes that he gets to be up and close and personal to you, and most importantly the smell of your sex is the strongest there and nothing else gets him off quite as well as that.

If you are a period haver, as we all know vampires and periods are the holy grail of fan-fiction smut literature; he is all over you during your time of month. Who needs pads when you have him to eat you out? He’s very through with these things, and honestly if you’ve found him in a good mood and he isn’t too far from your location if you are going long distance with him, you might be able to convince him to come back home early just so he can have you during your period.

For him the messier the better though, he understands if you want to put down a towel so your sheets aren’t ruined, but come on… just this once? Let him ruin your bed, he wants your blood to stain and mark what you two have done together. You can wash out it later right? C’mon please?

[fireteamdawn]

Say, Uncle-

“By high hell, it’s like lookin’ into a mirror!”

Drifter exclaimed as he circled around the warlock and the hunter like a shark smelling blood in the water. The siblings shared a look with one another, Takkāḷi raising a brow and Muṭṭai shrugging. It seemed impossible to them too, that the Drifter looked oddly... relative to them. 

“If it weren’t for the green skin, multiple eyes- is that a mutation? What the hell happened to the both of ya?” the former Dregden stepped back, still tilting his head and rubbing his beard like he didn’t really believe what he was seeing.

“We’re part Eliksni.”  Muṭṭai supplied. “On our mother’s side.” his common was much better than Takkāḷi’s. 

“That’s... something. I guess.” Drifter muttered. It barely was a minute before Drifter was turning Takkāḷi’s face with his hands, squinting in overflowing disbelief. “I know I didn’t bang no Eliksni back in the day... maybe I did... before I died? Nah... nah. Doesn’t sound like something I’d do. Then again...” 

“They have a father! We found photos of him. He’s an Awoken, does kind of... look like you though.” Varutta Cis popped out, starry shell twinkling as he blinked the photo into existance for Drifter to examine. He took it, turning away to scrutinize the thing. His shoulders slumped moments later, looking back at them, then back at the photo.

“He looks like me...” he breathed. “He... is that- Hey Ghost! Scan this. That charm look an awful lot like yours truely’s?” he ordered his own Ghost, who rolled his eye and scanned the photo himself. 

“Perfect match.” Drifter narrowed his eyes at the two again with this new information.

“We’re no stranger to finding family members but... this takes the cake.”  Muṭṭai laughed, shaking his head, green eyes glistening mischievously. “What’s up, Māmā.” 

“Don’t you call me Uncle kiddo. I ain’t your family- Drifter ain’t nobody’s family.”

“Racam. Our house name.” Takkāḷi finally spoke, voice too rough from someone who dressed so garishly. 

“Ain’t sound familiar bro- hm...” he stopped short of calling the awoken brother. He shook his head, pacing. “Alright fine. Evidence is... substantial enough for me to accept it. You’re my brats. What the hell does that mean for me?”

“Nothing much, but you can expect an entire Ketch’s worth of undying loyalty and trust. Welcome to the family,  Māmā.” the greener of the two grinned, his teeth sharp, mouth wider than was comfortable. The pink one smiled too, chuckling deeply.

“The hell have I gotten myself into...”

[rustridden]

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

{ a/n }: tell me what you think this is my first time writing after like probably 2 years also woahh part 2 ?

A gasp thrusts you from your sleep as you feel your heart physically jump from your chest, the force of it alone enough to lurch your body upwards like a man possessed. The sweat that beads on your skin feels ice cold with the fan’s gentle whirr, a strange contrast to the roaring furnace you feel just beneath your skin. It’s hot- too hot -and if you could be certain your eyes weren’t playing tricks on you, it almost looked like steam was rising off your skin. You can’t discern any details aside from what little moonlight peaks through your closed blinds and projects onto the floor in razor thin slits. They shift and move with the fan’s breeze, lines passing just briefly over clammy palms. It’s dark. Dark and late, according to the bell clock on the nightstand. A weary, shaky hand runs down your face, but when you fail to pay attention and hit your inner thigh you jump at the yelp that follows suit. Sensitive, an internal voice chides, drawing a sharp inhale from you.

Christ… this was the third time this week.

It’s impossible to be able to tell exactly when these… nightmares(?) actually started. It could’ve been maybe two weeks ago, when one startled you so bad it made you bump your head on the shelf above the bed in a panic. Wait, no, earlier than that, because you had gotten one the night before you had to go pull a double like a month ago… or, maybe before that? You wouldn’t be able to say, and even if you could anytime you tried to think about it too long you could feel whatever details you did have vanishing like trying to make shapes from fading smoke. Few details stayed consistent, but the ones that did were more like scattered sensations without a the full spectrum. Just- backtrack. It’s still fresh, maybe you can pull something from it…

Something viscous and warm coats you in thick layers, running down your shoulders, your hair. Running into your eyes and blurring your vision a deep red. There’s a rough thrum in your chest that almost rattles the inside of your ribcage when it beats, but you aren’t scared. No, there’s a searing acid that burns through your muscles like you’ve stretched after a good workout, a looseness in your joints and vibration in your fingertips that makes your claws- claws? -tap a bit against the hard- wet ground. Satisfaction runs through your veins, down the top of your head to your feet. There’s no way you’re clothed- you know you wouldn’t want to be. Anything to keep you from feeling this- all of this -would be torture. You can’t deny yourself the satisfaction, can’t resist the urge to lay in it and stretch as the sharp tang of metal hits your tongue.

It’s fucking revolting. If you stopped lapping you think you’d die. Your legs feel weak enough drinking here in the ground, the frenzy driving the heat further down into your middle. It settled somewhere deep in your hips, festering. In your indulgence you fail to notice whatever appears as if it’s been there beside you the whole time. You don’t see it, barely hear it- but you feel rough palms press against your lower back as if dragging the arch out of you. It rewards you with a purr. Hungry- like you. It growls as it notices your body reacting to it’s own, and before you can turn it grabs you faster than light to pin you down. You’re stuck beneath it, chest grinding into the floor and sweet water that surrounds you, letting whatever it is grind it’s prominent interest against you. It shows no haste to intrude, hips lazily grinding into you and barely paying mind to the desperation you rock back with. It’s messy and uncoordinated, impatience only multiplying with proximity rather than aiding it. You can vaguely recall the feeling of what could’ve been a large cat’s tongue lathe from your collarbone to your jugular, a low, satisfied sound rumbling in it’s chest at the motion. It’s desperate too, but it’s almost like whatever is there- both around and above you -hones that urge. It’s patient in it’s fervor, breath shaky and ragged as you feel something on your inner thigh… is that… is that stubble…?

-thump-

Before you can panic, a soft murrph from your cat catches you off guard enough to wait. He jumps up onto the lumped sheets with the elegance and grace of a small prince, nuzzling up to your side as soon as he knows you’re awake. He seems almost pleased with himself to have given you a start, but you find yourself running a clammed hand appreciatively over his little head anyway. It helps ease you a bit, the thrumming in your chest having slowed down nearly to it’s baseline by the time you pay attention to it again. At this rate you’re almost positive that you need to see a doctor. But what the hell would that even do? Waste money for them to give you melatonin that doesn’t work? You’d already tried. Maybe it was the fear, so you had started double checking your doors and windows. You barely opened either as of late, having spent less and less time speaking to people and more time just taking care of the necessities like your job or groceries.

It honestly seems the only thing to try is the thing you’ve been avoiding; trying to get out. It’s sort of impossible to not consider that your paranoia is just caused by the fact that you haven’t gotten out in a while. You know how you can get when you’re isolated, having spent many near endless nights scrolling through blogs, art pages, whatever you could to have a conduit for your thoughts. It wasn’t healthy, but it was the beginning of a long cycle you’d have to learn to handle better as you’ve gotten to this point. You have to admit not having seen your friends for weeks now was taking a toll on you. Whatever anxieties you’d have would be easily fixed with a blunt and a few shots in your system. An assumption you’re mostly correct about, even though you can’t quite turn off your vigilance once you all get there later that week. It’s sufficiently packed, but not to an extent you’d be horrifically uncomfortable with. Just enough for you to keep an eye on. Whatever’s playing from the jukebox has got everyone singing despite no performer being on stage tonight, and there are a few touches to your shoulders as you pass in welcome. It feels nice to be back here, where sketchy corners and dark shadows don’t feel so foreboding with wallflowers, neon lights, and mild exhibitionists filling them.

You’re a sufficient amount of drinks in when you notice your friends off across the room talking animatedly to someone you don’t recognize from your place at the bar. It's worn and familiar, something you'd go so far as to call cozy. It's a comfort that renders you surprise when you fail to notice the low voice that pulls you from your thoughts before it speaks. “You’ve been sat right here all night. Must be feelin’ down.”

The voice that interrupts your thoughts makes hairs stand up on the back of your neck, your back almost instinctively straightening it self out like a spooked cat. It’s low and gravely, thick with an accent that rolls off the tongue like butter. You don’t lift your head from where you’re staring at your reflection in the amber liquor. “You watching me?”, you ask, and there’s a strange pause before you hear a hearty laugh from him. You glance over a bit, blurry eyes falling on what looks to be glove-clad hands. A biker? His nails are black and slightly pointed, and you swear if you squint it almost looks like he has some slight red tint to his skin like a blush. This red almost looks deeper though- richer. It’s hard to tell with his sleeves down, though. Something in the back of your head nags to try and get that jacket off. You ignore it. “Not unless you like the attention. Watchin’s a strong word anyway, hard not to notice you.”, he says, and it’s when you finally look up do you find yourself slightly delayed in your response.

He peers down at you from beneath a worn hat, messy locs of hair falling over his eyes and curling around pointed ears. His stature is strong, slightly slumped but visibly large enough that you can tell he’s probably muscular under that old jacket and stained shirt he’s got on. He looks rough, probably spends most of his time on the street. Not much unlike you, or your friends, really, but it’s obvious whatever this guy gets up to isn’t something you’d wanna know about for plausible deniability. Everything about him feels like an alarm bell with a pleasant tune, the scent of something heavy and smoky in the air around him that almost sobers you up with the strength. Your wandering eyes earn a sharp-toothed grin and a slight narrow of his eyes, teeth glinting a bit in the dim hanging light above. Something in your chest clenches when he shifts like a scared animal. And, despite the endless distractions around you both, eye contact doesn’t cease with him, trained on you and your expressions as if the rest of the bar doesn’t even exist.

It makes you feel strangely exposed despite having a jacket on your shoulders, the vulnerability it puts you in apparently not lost on him as he rests his elbow on the counter and leans his head into his fist. “You alright, cher? You look red.”

constructive criticism more than welcome pls