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[ DEMON HUNTER DRIFT AU: PART II (SFW) ]
Part I (extremely NSFW) (it's very gross) (I'm sorry about everything)
Part II (NSFW post)
IT'S BACK, BABY
Imagine, if you will, that Drift is not a robot, but a gratuitously tropey half-demon hunter roaming around Boston killing demons in order to atone for his as a, well, killer for the demons. For all intents and purposes you can just assume this takes place in the same universe as Buffy (or something like it) for the sake of using a conveniently existing lore that I already really like. Maybe with an extra side of Kabbalah. whatever
HERE ARE SOME FACTS ABOUT DEMON HUNTER AU DRIFT:
- Drift is half-demon on his father's side. He never really knew his dad, idk he like fucked off or got slayed at some point when Drift was young and he was mostly raised by his mother, who died of cancer when he was a teenager. It was real sad and Drift had no money and got pretty promptly kicked out of his mom's apartment shortly after her death. This made Drift a TRAGIC TEEN ORPHAN who was homeless on the streets for a while, and given his ~UNIQUE HALF-DEMON AURA~ it wasn't really very long before he fell in with a bad crowd. A demon crowd
- Tragic teen orphan Drift got into drugs, specifically orihalcon, a potent substance derived from the refined blood of certain types of demons, because regular human drugs don't quite cut it for him. He was pretty knee-deep in the local demon community, partly because he didn't fit in anywhere else, partly because some of them knew his dad.
- Drift spent a while as a homeless addict, barely scraping by, until he was recruited by Megatron, a powerful demon lord who saw much more potential in Drift and his untamed demon powers. He offered Drift a place in his ranks even though he was half-human, and helped him hone his terrifyingly natural talent for violence. For a while Drift mostly did it to feed his habit, but he began to enjoy the rush of violence and of releasing his DEMON SIDE way more than the drugs and eventually got clean.
- He also inherited this sweet demon sword from his dad that Megatron apparently had handy. It is powered by his DEMON SIDE
- Eventually though Drift's taste for violence got a little out of control and after pissing off some of his superiors for wildly disobeying orders in favor of MORE VIOLENCE, he fucked off and went into hiding. It was at this time that he met a witch named Wing from a smug hippie witch cult based in San Francisco. Wing offered him sanctuary and to teach him to better control his demon side by being ~~more in tune with the spirits~~. Drift took the sanctuary because he had nowhere else to hide, but wound up begrudgingly coming around to Wing's way of seeing things, at least enough to grow to care about him. Unfortunately for the both of them Drift's UNIQUE HALF-DEMON AURA led Megatron's forces right to the Wing's door and he got horribly murdered. Drift managed to get away but he was so tragically torn by the untimely death of his spiritual sensei that he swore off working for Megatron and decided to USE HIS POWERS FOR GOOD
- Since then he's discarded the name Megatron gave him and returned to Boston as the newly-reformed demon hunter Drift. He lives in a tiny, shitty apartment in Southie and fights demons by moonlight in order to help people out and atone for his murder-filled past. He has fully embraced his former mentor's spirituality with a level of enthusiasm that, tbh, should probably be worrying. He believes (or hopes, at least) that what Wing taught him will not only help him keep his demon side in check (he is pretty much always concerned he will LOSE CONTROL), but also lead to his eventual redemption. Unfortunately Drift is still learning how exactly to have real faith in something because he is the world's biggest faker
- He is Jewish because I know what I like and oh boy does he ever dabble in Kabbalah and a lot of other magical spirituality bullshit that mostly drives other people up the wall
- Being half-demon has a lot of perks, SUCH AS: super strength/reflexes/stamina, accelerated healing, and being able to jump way higher than any human. He's obviously not as powerful as a full-blooded demon, but plenty powerful enough to be able to take them head on. He's also really good at fighting shit. Drift's swordsmanship is pretty solid, having been trained in Megatron's demon army, but also he has studied very seriously from a lot of kung fu and action films
- He literally owns fourteen swords
PREVIOUSLY ON DEMON HUNTER DRIFT AU:
- Rodimus is this AU's equivalent of the Slayer, and Ultra Magnus is her Watcher. She and Drift are best buds who also make out a lot. Ultra Magnus STRONGLY DISAPPROVES of Rodimus spending time with someone with Drift's substantial murder past but Rodimus believes wholeheartedly in Drift's turning a new leaf.
- Perceptor (Percy) is a talented witch and physicist who also serves as Drift's go-to for information about demon lore and magic. They go back a long, long ways, and is one of a handful of people Drift trusts implicitly.
- Dealer was, predictably, Drift's orihalcon dealer when he was living on the streets. There were some bad (good) (bad) times that Drift would really love to never talk about, and Dealer loves to hold over his head.
- Ratchet is a trauma surgeon whose family was killed by demons around the time Deadlock was active. After patching up Drift a couple of times, they fell into an undefined sort-of relationship that nearly came to an end when Ratchet found out just who Drift used to be. After taking some time and talking to just about everyone else Drift knows, Ratchet decided he still wanted to know Drift as he is now, though things between them are still uncertain.
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"If you wake up with a headache after a single scotch, I don't have any sympathy for you. Besides, I'm here to relax too."
They are both absolutely terrible at it. But at least they're trying. Pharma wanders away from the counter, surveying Ratchet's familiar apartment with an almost idle scrutiny. The floor is a little cold on her stocking feet, but she doesn't mind it. She runs a finger along the spines of a row of books on a bookshelf.
"Read anything interesting lately?"
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He's fully aware that he's probably the only person who gets away with talking to Pharma like this--and even then it's not a sure thing--and it shows, his eyes and voice warm, his smile crooked as he pulls out her chair on his way to get utensils.
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"I'm going to slap the teeth out of your mouth," she comments casually, taking another sip of her gin before turning and walking back toward the table with deliberate slowness. Just because she can, and because Ratchet patronized her. But she's smiling, see? Who ever said Pharma doesn't have a sense of humor?
"Don't you ever do anything for fun?" Pharma takes the proffered seat, brushing her hair over her hsoulder as she smirks up at Ratchet. "Besides me, of course."
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"I have fun sometimes. And you're one to talk."
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But then she's eating, falling into an otherwise unusual silence. She really does enjoy Ratchet's cooking, and even if she doesn't always say it aloud, it's fairly obvious from her face.
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He pushes to his feet, instead, collecting his plate and rinsing it in the sink before pouring himself a glass of water and downing that, too, looking comfortably sated as he lowers the glass and watches Pharma with warm, half-lidded eyes.
"You want some water? Or anything else, while I'm up?"
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She sets down her glass and pushes herself to her feet, her stocking feet silent on the floor as she closes the distance between them. She slides a hand over his shoulder, a strand of hair falling over her face as she tilts her head.
“What I want,” she murmurs, sliding her other hand between them, her palm flat against his stomach as it dips down, “is for you to be up.”
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"That can be arranged," he says, a warm laugh thrumming in his voice as his lips brush her cheek, his arms curling around her waist and tugging her in tighter against him. "Though I suggest a relocation, in that case."
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"I'll lead," she murmurs, her breath warm on his neck as she moves against him, pulling him back toward her bedroom in a kind of dance, never quite parting her body from his.
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"Well?" His lips curl at the edges, almost a smile as they brush at her cheek. "You're calling the shots. What's next?"