{super late but how about a monster au drabble?? :3c}
monsters don’t lie in the dark; they walk the streets, same as you. --- accepting
20.) Specify: an AU of your choice! --- for reference, Ares is based off this hybrid desert spirit/crossroads demon. my personal headcanon is that Francis is a werewolf (which explains his intense hatred of vampires)
The apocalypse. Brought upon the world by man, made by man, ending man. Very few were lucky enough to survive. And, in the case of Ares Grimm, how do you kill what is already dead?Â
While wandering the now silent streets of Rayford, Georgia, the demon groans at the humid warmth this side of the South is known for and she slides the skull up onto her nearly white hair. She hears a wolf whistle, looking up at a bridge. Sitting at the top, a man in a biker vest, littered with tattoos across the expanse of his broad arms and chest. He smirks down at her, gesturing to her headpiece.
“Nice hat! Where’d you come from, sweetie?”
“Hell.”
“Very funny. Be serious for a sec here, sweetie. Where are you from?”
“...Vegas.”
“Sin City? No kidding! That’s cool. I’m from Fairfield, Pennsylvania.”
“That’s nice.”
“So, you in costume? There a party goin’ on somewhere?”
“No.”
“Then what’s with the getup? I mean, skull, face paint, poncho. Definitely not normal clothes.”
Ares vanishes from view, only to materialize next to Francis on the bridge. She grabs the front of his shirt, glaring into his eyes, her own an almost neon red. He trembles in fear, trying to fight against her grasp, as her piercing stare made his skin crawl. In a moment of panic, she drops him, her eyes returning to their normal hazel.
“A werewolf.”
“Wha? Oh, yea. Yea, I’m not exactly a full blood human. Guess that explains why I didn’t end up like one of those things.”
Ares and Francis stand in silence for a moment, a werewolf and a demon. Both inhuman, both survivors. In a second of her nerves evaporating, the demon laughs, clutching the metal bars tightly to keep herself upright. Her companion stares, very confused.
“Well, that explains it. I’m Ares. I’m a spectral hybrid. You’re a werewolf. No one who survived this is human,” she holds out her hand for a shake. “So, shall we go find some other survivors?”
Francis, seeing no other real option, and liking the spunk of this little demon, accepts her handshake, solidifying a pact of survival.Â
“Let’s do it.”
