#eldritch monster simon ghost riley

[cod-dump]

Me while staring at my screen: What if… what if Soap was a little bit fucked up in the head? How fucked up? Idk the sky’s the limit

[yawnderu]

more creature!reader plsss ❤️

Fear boners are an actual thing— Simon realized it until now, feeling your cold nose rubbing against his neck, small pants leaving your lips as you sniff him up. How do you respond when a creature materializes itself into your room and climbs over you, pinning you down and simply sniffing you like a search dog? He's never been in a similar situation, yet his throbbing cock doesn't seem to mind just how creepy the situation truly is.

Calloused shaky hands reach for your body, wrapping around your waist only to bring your lower body closer to his clothed dick, subtly grinding against you to test the waters, silently thanking whatever is out there that you didn't bite his face off— yet.

There's something oddly erotic about the way your ectoplasm seeps through his clothes the moment you start to grind against him, long black nails raking dangerously close to his throat, somehow making him even harder despite the growing anxiety.

“Sex. With you.” Despite the way you mainly communicate with clicks and sounds, your speech isn't half as bad. Your free hand starts to slowly trail down, feeling his hard, toned body beneath his clothes until you reach your goal, eyes shining with mirth at the way Simon's breath hitches when you use your pointy nails to destroy the restricting fabric of his pants, freeing his hard, leaking cock.

Perhaps sticking his dick in crazy isn't the right choice, but Simon is way too horny to think with the right head, almost cumming when he feels your cunt wrap snugly around him, not even giving him a second to recover before you're bouncing on his dick, the tip of your nails digging on his shoulders for leverage.

Simon is nothing but a bundle of awful choices that could easily come back and bite him in the ass, his warm head on the back of your head, pulling you closer for a kiss despite knowing you have multiple rows of needle-like teeth. His free hand goes down to your hips, guiding you faster and harder as he starts to thrust up, going as deep as possible inside your wet, needy pussy.

Short nails dig into your cold skin, leaving faint marks that will disappear soon enough, yet he needs something to release the pent-up energy the moment your long, black tongue starts exploring his mouth, instantly making every single muscle in his body tense up as he shoots ropes of hot, thick cum inside you.

[thegnomelord]

Shark Merperson reader is real gud.

- 🦈

(HOLY FUCK. THANK YOU TO WHICH EVER ANON REQUESTED THAT BECAUSE I FUCKIN LOVE SHARKS.

Now Im thinking of a Price x Reader, because shars are the oldest species known to exist. Obviously sharks arent immortal, they've just been on this earth way b4 tress bloody existed.

So Im thinking the readers an eldritch creature, they represent sharks as a whole, as long sharks exsist they exsist. Heck they mights of even of been Prices mentor when he was in his draconic 100s? (Late 20s?).

Imagine Price missing his friend calls him up to see hows hes doing. Reader elated to meet an old friend, accepts the invitation to meets up with him. Reader definitely scolds him for lossing a wing, honestly is pertrified Price lost a piece of himself and thought he was retiring due to it. Cut ahort to him smacking him slap dab on the head when he learns he's lost it a long time ago and didnt tell him.

Cue wholesome interactions th 141 and etc. Heck maybe some romance with Price.

Just a blurb i had yo tell you abt)

Okay, this tickles my eldrich abomination trying to act human itch

CW:SFW, eldritch reader, kissing

Price knows you're there the second he steps onto the old wooden pier, able to smell seaweed and brine and something in the air — what he thinks the bottom of the ocean smells like, old rot of decaying whales and older heat of geothermal vents — the soft wind billowing his hair like the breathing of an elderly beast.

He knows you're watching him, passively at least, washed up mermaid purses dotting the beach to give you a glimpse of the world above the waves through the yolks vital for the pup's survival, able to dream of the warm sun and course sand while you slumber beneath the waves.

"Oi, ser, yer look like a wee lass waiting for her sailor." Soap's sharp voice cuts through the air, the werewolf far too energized for his own good, the sand in his fur not dampening his mood when he can just shake himself off and flick the grains on Simon.

"Hah," Price snorts, "Maybe I am." He tilts his head back to the sea, sharp eyes watching the breaking waves. "Time to wake up old friend." He mutters your mangled name under his breath, mortal lips and vocal cords unable to replicate your own voice.

The young ones in his team lack the sight needed to notice your form slowly rise from the sea like a submarine breaking through the ice, only the visible flicker of air and the receding water keying them in. Price old enough to see you without needing the inner surface of his skull to be dotted with eyes. Though even he sees your real form like a man having a stroke — vaguely familiar at first yet the details are undefinable — flesh and sea melding together without rhyme or reason, long strings of seaweed bearing miniature eyes with pups wriggling inside, cookie cutter sharks boring holes through finless corpses so long eel sharks may form ever reforming sinews, fossilized bone and old rock giving giving support to the massive insult to reality's laws; birth and life wrapped up in death.

You're an affront to logic. And with one sneeze from existence itself you're human standing in front of him.

Eerily human.

Perfectly human.

Almost.

"What the fuck?" He can faintly hear Gaz's voice, all of them only now noticing you stand where you weren't previously.

Your hand touches his back before he even registers you move, always slightly damp, "When did this happen?" You ask as you trace the spot where his wing used to be. "What did this?"

"And a 'hello' to you too sweetheart." He clasps a hand around your waist, purring softly in greeting as he pulls you closer to his chest. Even if he sees you once every few centuries, even if you don't possess the ability to reciprocate, his love for you is as youthful as it was when he was but a wyrm.

Your facial features remain neutral like the ones of sunken statues, but you blink, and for a few seconds he can see that yawning abyss in your eyes. "Hi." You say, your hand still tracing the bump created by atrophied flight muscles, trying to judge how fresh it is. "Explain."

Your tone sounds like a predator baring it's teeth, but he knows you wouldn't harm him. "In a lil' bit." He snorts, puts pressure on your back until he forces your legs to move. "Come, want you to meet my boys."

The introductions are odd on both ends considering you hadn't spoken with people other than Price since that Icarus of a passenger ship mistook your fin for an iceberg and they've never met an old one like you. But you like them, they compliment Price just like the small scale he gave you makes the pearls and gold offered to you through the ages shine more.

Even if your face is unreadable, somehow they can figure out you're not too amused when you hear he'd lost his wing during a mission. "I told you arrogance would cost you." You at least you can mimic a sigh as you rub your head, "At least you retired." You say,

"We wish!" Soap snorts before he can help it, and the next thing they hear is a horrific crack that has them jumping out of their skin.

Your head had whipped 180 degrees with the rest of your body remained in place, the laws of nature nothing more but blurry guidelines. "You. . .did retire?" You ask, voice like the roar of a whirlpool.

"About that," Price starts, unable to finish his thought as you slap him upside the head as if he's still the whelp who thought he could brave an ocean storm.

"You'll put me in the grave." You growl, holding him by the ear, words spilling from your mouth like seawater filling the empty bowels of a ship. "I swear your scaly hide hasn't learned a single thing-"

"Should we help?" Gaz wonders as they watch you chastise their captain like he's a boy.

"No, this is great entertainment." Ghost chuckles.

"Want me ta grab the popcorn?" Johnny ads, already snacking, tail thumping against Simon's leg and growling playfully when Gaz reaches for the snacks.

Eventually your anger relents, mood changing as swiftly as the tide. You spend the time they have left learning about the men he's chosen as his hoard. Kyle's a bit weary of you just due to his harpy nature, but soon enough you two can be found sitting on the pier and fishing, and if you purposely make the waves flow so a big fish snags on Kyle's line, Price never says anything about it, not when his boy has a smile as big as the sun when he looks at the gigantic fish flopping on his hook.

You attempting to help Soap cook the barbeque, but you're fine motor skills are rusty after all these years of slumber, so the food is slightly burnt but Price loves when his food's basically charcoal and eats it with a smile, especially as it keeps you from telling all the embarrassing stories you have of him, from when he got his ass bit by a squid to when he was so horny he ended up rutting against an extra curvy piece of rock, though the rest have already heard enough dirt to bury him for the next several decades.

Unfortunately for Price, you and Ghost hit it off like a house on fire, and Ghost ends up learning far too many ways to hurt people without killing them that most definitely are against the Geneva conventions but you pull seniority on it. Simon in turn, teaches you how to play cards, which, when you're literally a god that can see almost everything including your opponent's cards, means the shmucks Simon ropes into playing you and Simon end up with empty pockets.

As the sun stars to dip behind the horizon you wind up sitting next to Price by the fire, the others splashing in the water.

You feel his wing spread behind your back to pull you closer to him, "I missed this." He says, knowing you won't comment on the 'I missed you' hidden behind his vellum words.

"Last time we met like this Napoleon was still emperor." You hum, a small yawn escaping you, sharp tips of shark teeth peeking from human gums. "And you had two wings." You can't help but point out, making it clear you've not forgiven him about not informing you.

Price pointedly ignores your later comment, his hand tentatively, almost shyly, reaching down to sit on top of yours. "Afraid I'll forget about you?"

His pulse picks up when you shift your hand to hold his, fingers lacing together when you don't have a tail as a human. "You wait for me." You shrug, holding your free arm up, reality wheezing for a few moments before his scale is suddenly in your hand, shiny and unharmed just as it was when he'd given it to you all those years ago. "And I dream of you."

His eyes widen and heart melts, a purr rumbling in his chest "C'mere sweetheart," He rumbles and pulls you into a kiss, free hand holding your chin stable.

You taste of salt and blood, of chilling cold and boiling heat, of something ancient and familiar and Price drinks it all down like a babe, tongue licking in your mouth and fangs nibbling on your lip, feeling you respond, the touch of hungering god as soft as silk, just to him.

But he knows this won't last.

A shark has no reason to stay on land, and a dragon can't survive underwater regardless of how much he wants. Soon you'll return to slumber, and Price won't know when he'll see you again, if he'll see you again, or if you'll learn of his passing when your waves swallow up his ashes.

He doesn't notice the prickling in his eyes but you do, wiping a stray tear with the pad of your thumb, your other hand still wrapped around his. "Don't worry John," You say, statue features finally cracking into a small smile, "I'll stay for a little while." You say and lead him into another kiss, the other members of TF141 leaving you two to catch up on lost time...

[eldritcmor]

IDEA!! You know how in most legends and myths involving dragons there’s often a hoard the dragon is protecting? What if the 141 was the hoard of someone (or something) not entirely human. They masquerade as a human and fight alongside the 141 but they’re insanely protective of them and have dragon like abilities. Heat and smoke never seem to bother them. Sometimes the 141 can see the shimmer of scales out of the corner of their eye but when they turn to check it out all they see is their “human” teammate. Maybe they have reptile like tendencies and prefer to have meals alone because they’re “insecure” about their eating habits (they’re actually eating nonhuman food like raw meat or something). Idk, I just really like the idea of the 141 being oblivious to a monster in their midst. Also I really REALLY like dragons

Gaz looked up as the sharp screech of twisting metal met his ears. The guard at his door poked his head out to see what was happening only to jerk and slump, a rather large piece of rebar right between his eyes. Gaz did not want to meet whatever the fuck did that and so scooted the chair he was tied to as far back into the shadows as he could. He tried to keep his breathing even but as the steady clomp of boots on metal grew closer, he couldn't cut it. A hand curled around the door frame and for a second, Gaz would forever swear he saw gleaming copper claws. He blinked and suddenly you were in front of him. Kneeling low as you confidently cut through the rope around his ankles.

"Breathe Sergeant. I got you." Gaz practically melted at the familiar rumble of your voice. He let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding as you moved to the bindings on his chest. Then he was confused.

"It's good to see you lieutenant, but how did you get here?"

You hummed as you finished cutting through his bindings and hauled Gaz to his feet. While there wasn't really any major damage that you could see, you still didn't like finding him like this.

"I called in a favor from an old friend. For all intents and purposes, this was never sanctioned. Now before you go thinking too hard, the others did try to come as well. Unfortunately, they got placed under the equivalent of house arrest by Shepherd. Now come on, our ride is waiting."

Gaz rolled the information over in his mind as you led him through the little facility. Everywhere he looked was some form of evidence of a fight. It looked like something had absolutely ripped through their defences.

--

Ghost startled as he entered the little kitchen of their current base. It was incredibly late at night and he hadn't expected anyone to be awake. You were sitting on the counter, ripped open package of red meat in one hand and a piece of meat midway to your mouth. Ghost raised an eyebrow and you slowly lowered the little chunk back into the tray.

"is this why you never eat with us?" Your fellow lieutenant asked as he grabbed a mug from one of the cupboards. You have a little noncommittal shrug as you set aside your dinner. Ghost popped the mug into the microwave and pulled out a few teabags.

"No need to stop on my account, lieutenant." The microwave beeped and ghost retrieved his mug before plopping the teabags in and promptly exiting the kitchen.

--

Soap raised an eyebrow as you stripped off your jacket and bundled it into your pack. The team was visiting Farah and the desert heat was harsh on all of them. Even Price had taken refuge under the nearest shade cloth. You however just seemed to be perfectly fine in the heat. He thought the heat was finally getting to you. That is until you climbed up on huge flat rock, laid in direct sunlight and promptly fell asleep. You were fucking basking while the rest of the team was baking in the sun. Soap stomped over, sun be damned, and climbed right up beside you. He purposely blocked the sun as he kneeled next to you and raised his hand to slap down in the dead center of your back. That is until your hand shot out and easily caught his wrist. You two briefly wrestled for a minute or two before soap yelped as you scooped him up over your shoulder and carried his ass back over to the others. Farah laughed as you deposited Soap right at Price's feet. A simple no left your mouth in a sort of grumbling growl as you went back to your rock. Soap pouted in the shade but didn't move to try again, as Price handed him a canteen of water.

--

Price watched from the door as you wrestled against Ghost, with Soap and Gaz sitting on the side. You two were dirty fucking fighters. Anytime Ghost flipped you on your back, you'd yank him by his mask or shirt to the side. Anytime you'd flip him on his back, he'd take his nails down any piece of exposed flesh in order to get you to rear back and topple. Price thought it was like watching two feral ass badgers fighting. He decided to intervene when Ghost pinned you and his fingers were just a hair too close to your mouth. Your fangs were on display.

"That's enough boys!" He watched in amusement as You and Ghost scrambled to your feet. "Go clean up, all of you. We got a briefing in twenty. Except you, Drake. I need to talk to you." The rest of the squad exited the training room. Price could practically feel the gossip spinning in their heads.

Price turned to you once the team was down the hall and out of earshot. "We need to talk about that little trip you took."

You tilted your head to the side in confusion. "Little trip, sir?"

"The one you took while the rest of us were under house arrest. The one where you somehow returned with the single missing member of this task force."

You simply hummed, a noncommittal sound, as you tapped your wrist. Price shook his head at your silent question. "Ah my most recent leave. What's the issue?"

Price sighed. "Unfortunately, the higher up want to know how Gaz returned." Price grabbed your shoulder and pulleed you down to his height. "You were not involved in anyway, clear?"

You groaned as the grip on your shoulder tightened. "Loud and clear, sir."

"Good man, now get. I'm sure the others are wondering what kind of ass chewing you just got." Price watched as you walked out the room, defeat lining your shoulders. Good, no need to trouble anyone else with your little rescue mission. Price glanced down at his hand. He hadn't meant to grab you that hard but he had to get the point across. There was a red lined imprint of scales in the center of his palm.

[diejager]

i saw the comments in one of the monster fics and if youre up to it- monster feast/mukbang with eldritch horror reader??? love you!!!

Finally, someone who wants to see as much blood and gore as me!!!! Muhahahahhahaha

Cw: cannibalism, gore, blood, horror, eldritch!reader, tell me if I kissed any.

It had lingered on your mind for the past months, an itch at the back of your mind whenever you ate. You remembered their curious glances, watching the black ichor pool at your feet, cold and potent in both strength and poison. It was brought back whenever you gorged on any kind of meat, teeth carving through hard flesh and pulling the fibers apart, strings of ligaments curling in your maw as you suckled on the blood, rich with flavour and filling with life. 

You knew the telltale signs of curiosity flash in their eyes, the flicker of hunger for the thick musk of power that clung to Eldritch flesh, the smell of drool pooling under their tongues and the tenseness in their shoulders. Unmoving and still as they watched you devour a young and inexperienced God in it’s strive to conquer, but you were more powerful, more knowing and more terrifying. You were simply more.

Then - you questioned if the enemy was as stupid as it was, to slave another Eldritch God to do their bidding, or were smart, had learned from their mistake and found someone more knowing - a city dwelling Horror appeared, a big rat-faced creature with puss and rot bubbling on the skin where matted fur and branching arms didn’t cover. You stepped into it’s domain, trampling in and announcing your darkened presence to it’s ravaging mind, a psyche fractured into hundreds in a body of one, each limbs moving with it’s own intention. They, you thought, a being deserving of being called a king with the strength and knowledge it wielded —a worthy enemy. 

You bled and bled them, returning every wound with another one until it eventually fell, it’s smell heady, driving you to the point of near famine, drool rolling down your beak as you crawled to it. You ripped into their puss filled flesh, pulling at the tender muscles and sweet fat that covered the lining of their bones, breaking bones under your claws to suckle on the healthy marrow and carved the organs out for the thickness of it. You tried to keep your feeding contained within a certain perimeter, your fight costing the city damage and the few lives you couldn’t protect from the erratic swing of the king’s many arms —or at least tried with your hunger driven mind.

“Crow.”

And you remembered the interest Ghost and König held for Eldritch meat, drawn in by the age of it, the power it held within every sinewy fiber of flesh and hard bones. You scoured the large body for a cleaner part, cutting away pieces of untainted meat, portions big enough to fill their stomach for a few days, but small enough to not dive them into madness. You let out a rumble, body shuddering and feather ruffling with it, a sound of approval toward both men.

Your tail curled around them when they stood by your feet, looking at both through a single beady eye, blinking owlishly while you appraised them for their fearlessness towards the unknown meat you had placed before them. Ghost had been faster in his consumption, his smoke drowning the king’s fat in his mass. He trembled, feet unsteady with every step he took, his body shook with the power that coursed through him from the feeding. A natural reaction to his first bite, while less common than in the past, you remembered reacting the same when you first tasted the flesh of your kind, the lingering adrenaline that mingled with newly acquired power, pumped through your body in a rush of energy. It was addicting.

König seemed to take it… more enthusiastically, lurching forward after his first bite, diving in with intent to take a bigger bite, making a mess of him and the ground he stood. You nearly preened at the bloody grin he sent you, eyes blown wide like he was in a high, drunk off the king’s strength even after their death. Such high could drive a man insane, corrupting a being’s conscience with madness, near crazed. You wouldn’t let that happen, you’d seen so many succumb to it, but with you by their side, none would die such a harrowing death. 

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[femoso-seben]

Monster fic:

Human Shaped Monsters

Blood bathed the soil. It spans decades, and at this point, there is no way either side could turn back, and strike a deal for peace. The humans who have been enslaved and the monsters who were belittled and forced into segregation for centuries.

Blood soil the hands of both leading sides, eyes shrouded by hatred and rage. This was a war to end either species… and the humans were losing.

Two decades before the start of this war there was a faction of monsters pushing for equal rights and humans siding with them. Not even that solidarity could bring both sides together. It started with peace and ended in the blood of an innocent.

The human resistance was shrinking and the leading factions began to divide a plan. A last-ditch for freedom.

Rabies.

It was a slow race, the first to be infected were the werewolves and other beastmen. It was a long wave of modification by a small group of scientists. They made sure it could jump to every other monster, the only free of it were, mermaids, gargoyles, and shadow beings.

They made it with no cure.

It was an overnight success. Their militaries begin to fall into smithereens. One by one they had to kill their own forces and burn their corpses. New fear spread across the monsters.

The humans leaked the information.

The fear of humans was raised again.

Switzerland was the only country that allowed humans and Monsters to live together, of course, there were some apartheid laws but in all of was far better than other countries where they were actual slaves, broodmares, pets, and cattle.

It was a painful year for the Monsters before they decided to come to a ceasefire with the remnant of free humanity.

They meet up in neutral territory, Switzerland.

Laswell’s wing folds flatly against her back as she looks over to see her escort, Task Force 141, and shadow company’s Graves. “Are you sure about this?” Price was in his wings folding.

“I don’t like making concessions to them but if they have a cure—“

“I doubt it,” Soap snears, “knowing that vermin they were trying to kill us off.” He grips the door his long nails scrapping the metal door, his tail swishing angrily.

“Kate Laswell,” a feminine voice calls out, they all turn to see a young human woman standing there flanking her side is a monster in tactical gear. Laswell walked forward and they followed after them.

“Are you part of the delegation?” Laswell asks. The human looks up.

“Well, I’m part of the… welcoming committee, we in Switzerland don’t want war.” The human smiles her dark auburn hair was pull back into a low ponytail.

“A bunch of cowards and weaklings,” Soap smears. The soap didn’t always hate humans, he grew to hate them. In his youth, he was to stay in love with one until another human took her. He watched as they destroyed the world, their corruption throwing the world into a near-constant war.

He hated them.

“What would Santana think?” The human girl asks, Soap found himself sneering at the human woman for being up his old love.

“She’s not here because of you-“

“That was far before my time.”

“You’re young,” Gaz notes.

“Well, this country is made up of refugees, our parents fought to be free.” The human said side eyeing the Harpy.

Gaz didn’t like humans, he had no fold memory of that human or that human in his mind where they showed their famed humanity. He has only seen their bigotry. His home was napalmed by war. He hated humans too.

“Why aren’t we needing at the capital?” Graves asks looking around. The sun was setting and he could see the beautiful landscape of Switzerland’s countryside.

“Too many people live there, too many anxieties. Here if war breaks out not so many people be hurt.” Soap snorts but looks around the air is smooth and clean, far less dusty than the battlefield.

“Mother Maia,” the human woman calls out. There in the setting Sun of a large building, what used to look like a big retail store was a woman taking down hung sheets.

“As Jezebel,” the woman’s sweet voice calls out. “Are these the monster’s delegates?”

“Yup,” the group stops in front of this strange woman. She was in all black, with no skin showing beside her hands. She didn’t look Muslim just… like a Victorian woman in mourning. It was nostalgic for Graves he couldn’t stop smiling, her dark veil covering her hair and face. “How are the kids?”

“It’s dinner, you know how the little werewolves get, so territorial. Then the gargoyles want to sit at the top. The dragons are trying to hord people.”

“Is Michael sweet-talking people for food again?”

“Of course, you can’t stop young sirens from praying on others, especially on crawfish night.”

“Crawfish? Damn now I’m hungry-“

“We’ll take your group to the meeting point and if you get their fast enough and back we might still have some leftovers.” The woman in black tease.

“C’mon, let’s hurry,” Jezebel said rushing the group of monsters.

“What is that place?” Ghost asks. There were monsters there? And a human talking so nonchalantly about them too.

“That’s an orphanage, government sponsored, that’s the head director, Mother Maia.”

“Is she a nun?” Soap asks. Jezebel cackles and turn to him.

“Nope she’s a former Sniper, before retiring only a few weeks ago.” A cold chill run down tje monster’s bodies.

“What was her name?”

“Something like the pale death.” The monster stopped walking Soap nearly ran back to that woman to kill her.

“Relax Johnny it’s a bad idea to kill her here.” Ghost said resting his stone hands on his friend’s shoulder. Soap bared his fangs but let his shoulder sag.

“That bitch has killed dozen of our men-”

“Hey,” Jezebel said, “you better be careful this is her boyfriend right here,” Jezebel pointed to the armed monster next to him. He was a humanoid monster, maybe a wraith… that would make sense at night he was the most powerful.

“Traitor,” Gaz glared at the shorter male who had a strange antenna coming from his helmet.

“C’mon, let’s keep going I’m missing out on delisting crawfish!” Jezebel practically jogged to the meeting point.

“Look at her, so carefree. Humans truly disgust me.” Soap whispers to Gaz who flew slightly above him.

“I know mate, they only care for themselves, and discriminate against those that differ from them.” The moment they got to the meeting Jezebel took off.

—————————— /\ ——————————

“Mother Maia?” The woman in black looks up and walks up to the group of monster. Walking into the giant old building. The inside was converted into a home.

“Yes?” She asks.

“They wanted to see the orphanage a little more,” assistant Andres said, his wolf tail swinging side to side.

“Of course come in—”

“That killer in in charge of our kind?” Soap sneers, walking up to her. His eyes widened she was quite tall for a human, 6ft.

A set of low growls ooze out from the back as a small group of five teenage boys stalked in, they were young Werewolf pups. They got in between her and him.

“Who the fuck are you pendejo?” One asks his accented English rolls off his tongue.

“She killed our kind—”

“You killed your kind! My parents were killed by cunts like you,” the Australian boy shouts.

Soap glared at the young boys in front of him. They were young, stupid, and weak. A few had missing eyes, and arms, and one missing a leg. In the order of monsters, they should be dead.

“Enough!” Mother Maia snaps loudly, pulling the young alpha back. She leans down. In a low tone, she said, “Go protect the other orphanage.” Soap frown, another orphanage? The young back sneered at him one last time and stalked off.

“Have some grace, most of them were maimed by the monster’s militia when their parents tried to flee. Most of their parents were either murdered in front of them or eaten.” A chill ran down 141’s back.

“Mate—”

“Of course, we have some monsters affected by humans, but humans wouldn’t let a single monster live. These survivors or victims of you.” Mother Maia said setting the basket closed down.

“So, pale death-“ Graves walk over a smirk on his face.

“Killed anyone of them?”

“They are my children, don’t you know? Human pack bond with anyone.” She said in the same flirty tone as Graves. She clears her throat and looks at the greater whole, “where would you like to begin?”

“What type of monsters do you have?” Gaz asks looking around, he can smell a plethora of monsters, even prey monsters.

“We have beast men, harpies, mermaids, fairies, shark born, dragons, gargoyles, vampires-“ a group of bats came flying in and transformed small little kids running up to Mother Maia.

“We’re hungry.”

“Go to the kitchen.”

“How do you feed them?” Graves asks, there was about six of them the oldest no older than twelve.

“Donation of course, this country knows blood from monsters and humans are welcome. Of course, we have animals.” Graves subconsciously nods. “We have a few turned, they don’t want human blood.”

“We also have pray hybrids.”

“To feed-“

“No.” Mother Maia cuts off Price.

“Come I’ll show you the barn,” Mother Maia turned and led the group. There in the back was a large barn, it smelled like a barn.

“Lenard,” Mother Maia calls out, a figure jumps down and a young gargoyle appears, “we’re bringing in some guess, go tell Jin.”

“Jin isn’t gonna like this… not these unknown predators in his camp.”

“I know but go tell him,” The gargoyle nods and flies off.

Mother Maia turns to them, the veil is getting annoying, and the strange clinking sound as she walks. “Don’t eat anyone of them, I’ll kill you.” Her tone turns from sweet and welcoming to cold and cruel.

She opens the barn.

Screams erupt.

There was many cattle hybrids. Sheep, goats, alpacas, llamas, cows, and even some deer. They all backed up and only one thing approached a small girl screaming.

“Yumna-“

“Get out!” She shouts. She was a stout girl? And from the marking of her fur, honey badger.

“Do they have to be here?” A new voice asks in the arms of Lenard was a boy, Jin. The horns said it all along with the one wing, dragon. This was his hord.

“Quit,” Mother Maia said, silencing the barn.

“As you can see we have farmed more prey species since they don’t want to be killed or eaten. We’re leaving now,” she pushed everyone out and close the barn after Lenard who climb back onto his perch.

“So…” Price smiles blowing out his cigar smoke, “that’s his castle and hord?”

“Indeed.”

They begin to walk far into the fields small predictor hybrids poke their heads up and watch them leave before going back to playing. They walked for a few miles to the ledge of a cliff down below the ocean.

“We don’t have any big trees, so most of the Harpies live on the cliffs in huts, down below in our seaways are Merfolks and shark borns. Of course, as you see another gargoyle and in the water an eastern dragon born.” Gaz eyes widen seeing the little harpies flying around. It reminded him of home.

“Priscilla,” Mother Maia calls out, a young woman in her early Twenties or late teens walked up. Gaz thought she was human at first until he noticed her feet. She was a wingless harpy. Gaz felt feather’s raising anger boiling under his skin. She inched her way closer Gorgyle behind her.

“Since Harpies are communal and the boldest of the youth train the harpies to fly, but since Priscilla had her wings ripped off most of the young harpies don’t fly.” Mother Maia said.

“We can!” One shout, from the cliffs their small heads and raptor eyes glued on them. “We just… don’t want to.” The little boy said shyly.

“And in the small brush forest we have the smaller pray species and a pack of werewolves.”

“A pack?” Soap asks, “there’s more than one?” Mother Maia nods.

“We have five they like doing mock battles to see who gets five feet of territory into another’s back, it’s all friendly games they come together to defend this area when needed.” Soap couldn’t help but smile, maybe if he was younger this would be a great place to create a pack.

“I can teach them how to fly,” Gaz said mindlessly staring at the cliff where there were probably over 20 harpies. All the young children and the oldest were younger than him, they wouldn’t survive if they couldn’t fly.

“Really?” Priscilla said her shoulder feathers raising in excitement.

“We’re staying here a few days.” They two turn to another Maia for an answer.

“You have to ask Baihu.” Pricilla cringed and sighed, “As the most senior member of this community and the oldest, it’s your duty.” Pricilla nods.

“Alright let’s go asks him, c’mon.” She begins to walk to the cliff Gaz following suit.

“Isn’t it a little cruel to have a human looking after a monster?” Soap ask.

“Not at all my counterpart is a monster taking care of humans, his hord.”

“This seems too perfect.”

______________________

Word count: 2.2K Would you be interested in this being a full fic?

Inspire by @bluegiragi @gremlingottoosilly

taglist: @kkaaaagt 

Part 2

[rip-cod-brainrot]

I just had the sudden idea of “who would have the most unhinged girlfriend in 141 that is basically their scary dog privilege dog”

And like. It’s gotta be Soap, right? He’s got that puppy boy energy that makes me think he would adore being loved to the point of obsession… or, at least, the effects of it. In this particular scenario he just does not understand the obsession, just that his girl really likes him.

He brings his girl to base one day and Price and Gaz are worried, but they’re happy Soap is happy. Price can see the girl’s dedicated to him, and Gaz sees Soap head over heels for the girl and he’s just so damn polite. Gaz is not gonna tell Soap that his girl gives him the creeps, like a female version of Ghost that is somehow not a soldier, but a bloody civilian with the same killer energy.

Speaking of Ghost….

It is red flags all around for him, and he’s pulling Soap to the side to quietly (and bluntly) explain “Johnny this girl would murder for you and that’s not a good thing”

“Why no’? I think tha’s sweet!”

Just. The shenanigans. Ghost isn’t gonna force a bloody breakup on Soap’s behalf, it would break the poor boy’s heart (and get him on the girlfriend’s shit list, making it a double “not doing that”…)

So just…. Soap going around with his unhinged girlfriend and Ghost in the background like

[dhampiravidi]

ok does this remind anyone of "I'm Not Simon Riley, I'm Ghost" by @cod-dump? Not that someone stole something, I just mean that this art goes perfectly w/the fic, like chocolate & water (trust me).

holy shit the height diff is 7'8" to like 5'9"--

time to share here some concepts of my Monster AU

[themurderofcrowscollective]

This idea keeps bubbling in my brain and I wanna write it (thanks to @snootlestheangel for inspiring and motivating me to write this-) 141 Monster/Cryptid AU but with Ghost as just a human... or is he? I don't know the specifics of Snootles' headcanons for the 141 and what their species are, but uh, I hope they don't mind I come up with some species for them Captain John Price = Were-dragon OKAY HEAR ME OUT; Anywhere I look, John is either a Biblically Accurate Angel or a Wyvern hybrid but I personally like to view him as a were-dragon. I can imagine him with a few features of Draconic origin like a few scales along his back, his arms and his legs. Maybe some small horns but I'm not gonna follow the 'only transforms on full moons' troupe. Instead I think he can transform on command but his emotions are tied in with his transformation. He's gotta be in check of his own emotions to keep control of his transformation, but he isn't as destructive as he was back then. Yes he can breathe fire in any form. Fight me on this. --- Sergeant Kyle Gaz Garrick = I dunno yet, I'm caught between Shapeshifter, Wizard or Undead. If he was a shapeshifter, I keep thinking he'd become anything that anyone is scared of if they've pissed him off. Also may I interest you in; flattened hamster Gaz? Like y'know how some hamsters flatten when they're relaxed? I can imagine Gaz as a hamster, chilling on Soap's head. For the wizard idea, he'd be a firm believer in 'I don't care how small the room is, I cast fireball.' and he'd wear a store-bought wizard outfit to fuck with people. The undead part came to me cause I keep thinking of him yanking his arm off and chasing someone with it in his hand. Or his head getting tossed around like a ball. --- Sergeant John Soap MacTavish = Werewolf or Dullahan. I might go with Dullahan for him to be fair, the idea of a headless rider sitting upon a black horse seems fitting for him. (yes I know the Dullahan is strictly from Irish folklore but I couldn't find anything that'd fit Soap-) And the idea of Gaz and Soap being headless buds sounds fucking funny to me. I can imagine him in a suit of armor styled as a black knight, riding on a black horse of shadow, probably confusing the piss out of the enemy until he's fucking throwing bombs around while they're trying to understand why an armored headless man is here when it's the fucking modern era. --- König = Eldritch Horror (tentacles galore.) I will not explain myself. --- Kim Horangi Hong-jin = Weretiger or Kumiho (Nine-tailed Fox) Okay I might go with the Kumiho, I like that idea. --- Simon 'Ghost' Riley = Human? If I were to draw conclusions about Ghost's true nature, my mind keeps guessing Grim Reaper, a shadowy skeleton, and for some reason the ghost rider- Why? I don't fucking know. OR MAYBE HE COULD BE A HORSEMAN OF THE APOCALYPSE- I might keep the horseman of the apocalypse idea, he's just so good at disguising himself as human and emitting that cryptid energy that no one would guess if he's Death.

[cod-dump]

I’m Not Simon Riley, I’m Ghost

Chapter 1

SoapGhost

(Featuring eldritch monster Ghost) ___

Ghost is not Simon Riley. Simon Riley was a opportunity that Ghost took. Ghost built his walls tall and strong, he didn’t plan on letting anyone inside. But Soap manages to get in and make Ghost question everything. ___ (Eldritch Horror Ghost that no one asked for)

TW: Gore, Sexual Content, Canon Typical Violence, Slow Burn

___

When Simon Riley died, he really did die. Ghost is not Simon Riley. Sure, he has his memories, also inhabits his old body, but he isn’t Simon Riley. In the beginning, he pretended to be Simon so he could merge into the human world easier. But, he isn’t Simon Riley: He’s Ghost.

This human body was a means to an end. He has disguised himself as a human, he has successfully merged into their world. The only potential tell that he wasn’t what he seemed to be was his face. They appear to be scars, but they’re not. A glasglow smile and a split down his bottom lip and down his chin. He managed to convince Price that they were wounds from when the cartel tortured him. But, in reality, they were apart of his lips. He had to be careful when talking to someone, anyone, in the off chance he opened his mouth too wide.

He only ever had to kill one person because he accidentally revealed too much. Roach was a good man but Ghost couldn’t trust him to keep the truth a secret. So he killed him, disposed of the body (by eating it), then waited out until the investigation of Roach’s disappearance toned down. Ghost did have regrets killing Roach, he did actually like him. But he couldn’t trust him. He couldn’t.

You may be asking: Why did Ghost merge himself into Simon Riley’s life? Well, like most creatures of Ghost’s world, he came to this world to feed. Humans are delicious, but they had advanced drastically since the Dark Ages and became quite capable of killing his kind. Ghost couldn’t outright kill them in a… Average setting.

Simon Riley’s body was a opportunity. Playing soldier was the perfect disguise. He was expected to kill. Sometimes he would be expected to go dark and just disappear. As long as he returned with what Simon Riley’s superiors wanted (etc. information), they would let him do whatever. Sure, in the beginning Simon Riley wasn’t known as the infamous lieutenant; That was Ghost’s doing.

Ghost built Simon Riley up as a fearless, deadly soldier who would do anything for his cause. He was the reason Simon Riley was so feared and respected. Simon Riley was the face, but Ghost was the unstoppable force driving his reputation. Ghost doubted Simon Riley would’ve been able to make it this far himself. (He died by suffocating in that coffin). Digging himself out, hunting the cartel to be his first real meal since taking over as Simon Riley.

Ghost, in this early stage of his new life, did not have the same emotional attachments as Simon Riley. The man’s family meant nothing to him. In fact, they were a threat. They would’ve been able to figure out that he wasn’t Simon Riley, they had the potential to ruin everything. So he got rid of them. Killed them, ate parts of them, then burned everything down and blamed the cartel.

By blaming the cartel, he gave Simon Riley the motive to kill. To get more food. By the time the last of the cartel died, by the time he was found by John Price, he was written off as a very traumatized, disturbed individual suffering from PTSD and mental illness. The perfect cover.

He gained John Price’s sympathy with this cover, made him like him. Years go by building his relationship with John Price and becoming established as the Ghost; He finds himself in a perfect position to continue to feed without fear. Then that fucking Scotsman came along and flipped everything upside down.

Since Roach, Ghost did well not to let anyone get too close to him. He didn’t want to risk exposing himself and ruining this life that the rest of his kind envy. The humans around him learned not to bother trying to befriend him; It was pointless. It was like a unspoken law amongst all of them that Ghost was not looking for friends. But John “Soap” MacTavish apparently didn’t get the memo.

From the start he was smiling, joking, annoying. He was actually charming and Ghost hated it with all his being. Soap (What the fuck kind of name is Soap?) seemingly was determined to become Ghost’s friend. And no matter how Ghost pushed and built up walls, Soap pushed back and climbed. Ghost was glad that he made the decision long ago to wear a mask, because he knows Soap would’ve made him slip up by this point. Soap would’ve become another Roach if he didn’t have a mask to hide behind.

No one said anything about how Soap seemingly outright ignored Ghost’s hostility. Well… Except for Phillip Graves. Ghost overheard him talking with Soap about him. It was easy to do considering Ghost had excellent hearing (it paid off being able to hear your prey’s heartbeat while it tried to hide from you). He was able to listen in on their conversation when they were loading up.

“Doesn’t he feel off to you?”

“Eh? What do you mean?”

“Don’t tell me you don’t get the heebie jeebies around that guy. Something isn’t right about him.”

Soap looked over at Ghost and Ghost pretended he was busy checking his gun and that he didn’t notice. Soap never answered Graves. Meeting Alejandro and Rodolfo went smooth. Though Rodolfo eyed him in a similar manner to what Graves did upon their first meeting. It was like they could feel that Ghost wasn’t human but had nothing to back it. Humans here and there were able to feel Ghost’s true nature, but they are almost always unable to immediately pinpoint what he is without seeing him open his mouth a tad bit too wide.

While in Las Almas, Soap persisted as a menace to Ghost’s cover. Even after Alejandro and Rodolfo attempted to be friendly with him and quickly discovered that it would get them no where, Soap still kept up the friendly banter. Ghost found himself being… Charmed? Ghost could try to compare Soap to Roach but in truth they weren’t that much alike.

Roach would’ve backed off after the first time Ghost gave him the cold shoulder. He wouldn’t have joked like he had known Ghost, like they were the best of friends, after the first glare. Soap was fearless, brave. It was like he saw Ghost’s walls as a challenge and started to climb even as Ghost continued to build them up. When Graves betrayed them, when Ghost had gotten separated from Soap. He panicked.

Not once during his time as Simon Riley has he ever panicked over something. He wasn’t afraid of a Shadow offing him. He could handle them easily. He was actually worried about Soap. And when he noticed that he was worried as he made his way to the church, as he continued to radio to Soap and do everything but beg that he confirm that he was still alive, the realization had hit him. He kept telling himself he was building his walls up and up, that he was alone within them. But Soap had managed to slip away inside already, somehow.

”Fuck.”

Ghost actually felt joy for the first time by someone being alive. Soap being alive actually gave him joy! He never had such a attachment to a human before. Not even John Price was so highly regarded and Ghost tolerated him the most. Or so he thought. 

Ghost knew that Soap was hurt. Knew that he could easily be killed (and for once he cared whether or not a human died) and did his best to keep him alive from afar. As Soap fought and made his way through Las Almas, Ghost ate. He was good at leaving no trace, but he didn’t have the time or luxury of making a whole body disappear. But he was too hungry to just not take something from each body.

As he tore off a arm of a Shadow and feasted on the flesh, his mask tucked into his waistband. He let his guard down for a moment. A shot to the shoulder made him drop his snack, his arm going limp. He quickly turned and hissed, sharp teeth bares and eyes completely black, jaws spread wide to reveal how far down his throat his teeth went. The Shadow that shot him screamed and shot again and again as Ghost lunged at him. Ghost tore through his neck, drinking blood as the Shadow drowned on his very life force.

Ghost dragged the latest body into a supply closest to hopefully feast on without further interruptions. He also took the time to fix out the bullets out of his shoulder. The feeling was slowly returning in his arm but it wasn’t pretty much useless at the moment. Not that it hindered Ghost too much, he was still quite capable of killing any Shadow that crossed his path. But it was still an annoyance to be down a arm. So he focused on healing by eating every bit of the Shadow that shared the closet with him.

”Are you ugly?”

”Quite the opposite.”

Ghost made the habit to rarely show his face to anyone for the past several years since Roach. He hasn’t had anyone comment on his appearance for years, he wasn’t sure how Simon Riley’s face was perceived. What humans found attractive tended to slip past his understanding considering what Ghost’s kind found attractive always related to what they were capable of, their rank, territory, and, yes, personality. He never went off if someone was attractive or not by their appearance. If his kind did that, no one would be making babies.

Giving Soap the idea that he was attractive didn’t hurt considering he never planned on showing the man his face. Never. He would sooner tear the man apart and eat him like he did Roach rather than bare himself to him.

After several bad jokes shared between him and Soap, Ghost was back on his feet. He continued making his way to the church, and when he got there, a realization came to him. 

Soap was bound to find a body.

Ghost was sloppy. He did get radioed from Soap about finding one of his knives. He expected something indicating about the state of the body he found the knife in. But he didn’t say a word. Ghost tried to brush off his worry and tell himself that Soap found the knife in one of the very few bodies that Ghost didn’t eat from. He was clueless, he didn’t know.

When they finally regrouped, Soap just smiled as they jumped in the truck and drove to Alejandro’s safe house. Soap did notice Ghost’s shoulder which was bloody and his sleeve torn.

”You didn’t tell me you got hit.”

”I’ve had worse. It’s no worse than the one you have.”

But it was worse. Soap was still using his arm much more than what Ghost would’ve been able to if he was human. They got to the safe house and secured the area before settling and patch their wounds. Ghost helped Soap with his. And when Soap wasn’t looking, he tasted the man’s blood that had gotten on his fingers. Ghost had to restrain himself from moaning at the absolutely delicious flavor of Soap. The man was a literal beam of sunshine, inside and out.

Ghost regretted tasting Soap almost as soon as his blood touched his tongue. It felt like he was violating Soap. And he never had such feelings before. He felt ashamed for tasting him. As he felt this shame, he then felt horror. What the fuck was wrong with him? Since when did fucking Ghost ever feel ashamed about violating a human? Since when did Ghost care about such a thing? He, a force that had consumed entire human villages. He who killed and ate Simon Riley’s family whilst masquerading as the man. He who killed and ate someone who considered him a friend after seeing his face.

Ghost had to push away his thoughts and focus on the task at hand. He had a mission to complete if he wanted to keep his comfortable life. He wasn’t sure how long he had been sitting there thinking about his changing nature, but it was apparently long enough for Soap to pass out from blood loss and pure exhaustion and lean against Ghost. Ghost almost freaked before he reasoned with himself. Soap wasn’t at risk of bleeding out. The wound had been secured and was now on the path to recovery.  Ghost went to shove off Soap when he stopped at the look at Soap’s face. The look was calm, full of trust. Ghost remembered one time someone looked at him with complete trust, and he had killed him. Ghost decided after several minutes of staring that they could rest for a couple hours before heading out.

Ghost didn’t sleep often. It was one of the few times he became vulnerable. He wasn’t a light sleeper by any means. When he did sleep, it was near impossible to wake him up without resorting to physical violence. He picked up the reputation of being a light sleeper because he would pretend to sleep around the human soldiers to keep up appearances of being human himself. Price once told him he woke up like he was prepared to start fighting right there. Ghost told him he simply couldn’t sleep soundly without being behind a heavily locked door.

With this being said, somehow Ghost managed to fall asleep here. Here in unfamiliar territory, exposed, with a man leaning (cuddling) against him who could wake up any moment and attack him. Ghost fell asleep faster than he ever did in his own room despite the obvious discomfort of being on a not so comfortable couch and with a hole in his shoulder that still hurt like a bitch. Ghost fell asleep, and he briefly remembered resting his head on top of Soap’s before lights went out.

He woke with a start, almost like his body realized he fell asleep like an idiot. His hand goes to his gun as he looks around, discovering that Soap wasn’t beside him anymore. Instead, he was at the kitchen table eating something. The man took notice and after they stared at each other for a solid thirty seconds Soap offered what he was eating to Ghost.

”Biscuit? It’s only hard as a rock.”

Ghost shakes his head and stands. His arm was practically healed thanks to his unexpected nap.

”C’mon, LT. Gotta eat something.”

”I’m good. I’ll eat later.”

Soap shakes his head, “You’ll need your strength considering we’re just getting started with this shit. Actually, don’t think I’ve seen you eat once since we got here.”

Ghost never ate in front of anyone. Mostly because there was no appeal to human food and he rather not show anyone his face. Price chalked it up to Ghost not liking anyone seeing his scars. Ghost went along with it.

”Not hungry. Get ready to leave.”

Ghost sees Soap fucking pout and that strikes him right in his black heart. Ghost leaves to check on the truck before Soap could protest further. Once he was outside, he groans. Fuck fuck fuck. He slams his fist into the door of the truck, leaving a dent. He breathes for a moment before he straightens himself out and starts to prepare to go free Alejandro, get in contact with Price, and make Graves pay for his betrayal.

[kitsune024]

Call of Duty || GhostSoap Fic Recs

Detroit: Become Human

I Like You Alive by Thanatos7420 I Chapters: 11/20 I Android!Soap, AndroidHater!Ghost, BAMF Soap , Pre-Android Revolution, Slow Burn

the waking universe by @eggtimelads I Chapters 1/1 I one shot Horror, Eldritch Soap, Simon "Ghost" Riley Backstory, Simon "Ghost" Riley Needs a Hug, Nightmares, Passive Suicidal Ideation, Apathy, surprisingly not as angsty as the tags make it seem, Implied Sexual Content

A shooting star could pass straight through him at this moment, he thinks blearily. Could make a home for itself, right in the cavern of his empty chest where nothing seems to fill; could make him whole. It would hurt, if only for a second. Torn apart, bleeding bright. Nothing would be left of him; nothing but a legacy engraved with violence and bloodshed. or, ghost makes a deal with an eldritch being the night he was set to die; things change.

Just Like You by SonTi I Chapters 1/1 I one shot Pre-Relationship, Blood and Injury, Touch-Starved, Implied/Referenced Torture, Hurt/ComfortEmotional Hurt/Comfort, Unresolved Emotional Tension, Torture, Flashbacks, Recovery, Trauma, POV Simon "Ghost" Riley, Angst, PTSD

“Show me.” “Show you what Lt.?” He steps closer crowding the smaller man into the counter behind him. Johnny’s height makes him face his collarbone and neck directly but the man is annoyingly stubborn. He just stares back up at him with defiance in his eyes. “Show me the extent of what they did to you.” ————————— After a month of searching they finally locate Soap. Bloody, rattled, but alive and breathing. Ghost doesn’t want to think about the relief that fills him, instead focusing on the new mask the man had began wearing, invisible to all but him.

Locked in a Stalemate by oonbluem305 I Chapters 7/26 I AU- Canon Divergence, Heavy Angst, Fix-It, Brainwashing, Memory Loss, Loss of Identity, Grief/Mourning, Recovery, Slow Burn

November 21st, 2026 Three years had passed since Johnny's death. Ghost held the picture for a while longer until the coldness in his apartment seeped into his fingers. He headed toward his bedroom. Next to his bed, he opened a small drawer on a nightstand. He carefully laid the picture in there and closed it. It was going to be a while before he opened it again. Ghost, in between the headaches that were coming and his sober thoughts, had a feeling that Price might be right. The next mission was going to be different. It had to be. ... “Bring Remnant 04 forward; he'll be deployed in Urzikstan until pending orders”. The task force thought that Soap was gone after their last encounter with Makarov. Both Ghost and Price were affected the most by his "death" and were trying to put an end to Makarov. They were not aware that Soap hadn´t died in the mission back then.

Acceptable Loss by @mildlimerence I Chapters 7/? I AU- Canon Divergence, Dark John "Soap" MacTavish, Past Torture, Memory Issues, Russian Mythology, Light Winter Soldier vibes, Brain Damage, Soap is not a good man but Ghost adores him anyway, Identity Porn

Post-MWIII: When Soap is killed by Makarov in the tunnels, the 141 are overrun and forced to leave his body behind with the enemy. They never anticipate the mad, masked monster wearing Soap's face to come crawling back out, shaped and reborn by Makarov into weapon tailor made to destroy them all.

Bookmark Series

Duress by @islenthatur I Part 1- 4 I BAMF Soap, Feral Soap, Soap's ghost mask, protective Soap, Angst and Hurt/Comfort nothing but my aching soul by Apollos_Last_Prophet I Part 1-2 I BAMF Soap, Brainwashing, Dehumanization, Loss of Identity, Torture, selectively mute Soap

[gazs-blue-hat]

Shapes In The Mist I (D&D AU) Ghost x Reader (Changeling)

An: Once again, inspired by @halcyone-of-the-sea. I know I said I wanted to pay you money but I think this might be an even better way to pay you <3. This entire thing takes place in the Forgotten realms (Thanks BG3). You can find the stat block for the creature here.

Summary: Being an assassin is no easy task, especially when your target keeps changing faces

Word Count: 3,080

Tw: Mentions of murder, Stalking, Plans of regicide, Body horror (Slight), Alcohol consumption

I DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION TO ANYBODY HERE OR ON ANOTHER SITE TO REPOST, COPY, TRANSLATE OR FEED MY WORK TO AN A.I OF ANY KIND.

Simon Riley had once been a kind man. He had once worked as hard as he could to help people who were less fortunate than himself.

He was no longer that person. That person had been killed a long time ago, leaving a bitter shell behind. He had made a pact of sorts. One with a horrible fiend of some kind. The fiend had promised him. The powers to overthrow his enemies and claw out of the pit he had found himself in.

He knew it was risky, to accept a deal from a literal devil, though he had found no other way out of his chains. He had been bound in more ways than one, so it made sense to consolidate all of those chains to one wielder right?

Wrong. So incredibly wrong.

Simon was no longer the sole inhibitor of his body. He shared it with the same devil that he had made the deal with. Eldritch power at his fingertips in exchange for a little parasite wiggling about his bones. At the time it had seemed…nice. he had someone to share his thoughts and feelings with. Someone who would always be there.

That had been four years ago. Now he was constantly annoyed with the devil in his skull. He was tired of being woken up in the middle of the night due to some demonic reason like the bed catching fire, or an imp spawning on his chest and asking for instructions.

The only way he was going to get any semblance of freedom was by working with the Eldarin that was Johnathan Price. The archfey had promised him that if Simon worked for him, then he would provide ways to sate the bloodlust that dominated his thoughts. Simon had been wary at first, fey beings don’t give gifts like this lightly. John had stated that it was a fair exchange since he was getting a very powerful demon to work for him. Service as a monster slayer suited the large man. He found the work to be good for him and the devil.

Simon killed the targets, and the devil ate them. It was a simple exchange and one that indeed sated his bloodlust. Sure there were harder things to get rid of. His biggest hunt had been a false hydra in the town of Parleric to the West. Now…now he was hunting a doppelgänger.

Doppelgängers are known to be tricky and hard to track down. They’re smart creatures that like to hunt alone unless they’re looking for a mate. Unfortunately, his intel had been bad and he was slowly getting drunk in some pissy inn in the middle of town.

He had been hunting this beast for nearly three weeks now. More and more people were going ‘missing’ and Simon’s deadline was running out. Soon any rational thought would be consumed with the desire to feed. To feed on the lifeblood of anything unfortunate enough to catch the devil’s eye.

"Penny for your thoughts?" The dark voice rasped in his brain. Smoke started to flow from his fingers and into the mug of ale, he had been sipping on.

“Piss off,” Simon growled back, setting the mug down and pulling on a pair of well-worn leather gloves. There was a deep chuckle in his mind.

"Now now, no need to get nasty. You just seem…more broody than usual." the devil sneered. Simon rolled his eyes and took a bite of his food. He usually wore a thick cloth mask that resembled a mourners’ pall, but he had decided that a simple cloak hood would be enough for now.

He opened his mouth to make a smart remark when the door above the tavern jingled softly. A very handsome couple entered the establishment, smiling as they waved at friends and newcomers. Simon felt something pull in his chest and he allowed a smug smirk to sneak its way up to his lips.

“You can change your face..” The Devil he called ‘Ghost’ started.

“But you can’t change your soul.” He finished as he put a few silver and copper coins on the table as payment and a tip. He needed to grab supplies if he was gonna make this death one that would not only satisfy the contract but also satisfy his blood lust.

He glanced over to the woman who was hanging off the man’s arm only to find her eyes locked with his.

“Monster hunter huh? I recognize the magic of Jonathan Price anywhere.” The voice in his mind was soft and soothing like a rush of calm flooded him. Once the words were over, the tempest returned with a vengeance. Red pulsed at the sides of his vision and he clenched his teeth to keep from hissing.

“You…you spoke to me,” he muttered in his head. There was no response from either party. The devil living inside of him or this other person who was communicating with him. He watched as the man and woman sat at a table with one of the other patrons of the tavern. Said figure was wearing a dark cloak that hid their face in the deep shadows of the hood.

He sat back down, heavy and tired all of a sudden.

"The hell was that Ghost?" He asked the monster in his mind.

"Old magic. Older than me…old chaotic magic." The beast seemed almost…afraid of this power. Suddenly, Simon was his chance to escape this cursed pact he found himself trapped in. If the beast. Was afraid of this ‘Old Magic’ then perhaps he could convince the weirder to rid him of his malady.

"Don’t try it. It will tear you asunder faster than any illness." The devil warned. Simon shoved the devil back into his mind, focusing on the hushed conversation that was occurring at the table across the room. He was able to read the two new-comer’s lips well enough.

“How many made it through the rift?” The man asked. His face was a little too perfect. The cheekbones are high and the light shining on his hair just right to make it almost sparkle The hooded figure must have said something that irritated the female companion since she rolled her eyes and poked at Simon's mind again.

“Who is your quarry?” The soft voice filled his mind again. Simon couldn’t help but slump a bit in his seat. The voice was…angelic. Like the sweetest breeze on a hot summer day, or the gentle warmth of a hearth after a trek in the snow.

“Who are you?” He asked. He couldn’t tell if he used his mouth or his mind to speak to the person. The woman smiled and winked at him.

“A hunter, like yourself. Only I believe we hunt the same prey.”

She turned away from him and whatever connection there had been, was severed. The rush of bloodlust came over him like a tidal wave. He gripped the edge of the wooden table so hard, that parts of it cracked and moaned under his grasp. Whoever this woman was, she held the magic the devil feared. She was able to shove any and all traces of the beast back.

“What in the nine hells is this woman?” Simon asked himself. The snarky remark from the demon he had expected, never came. He could feel the beast in his blood. He could feel the dark tendrils of eldritch magic curling around his bones.

The devil was afraid. It was burrowing deeply in his very flesh as if mortal bones could hide it from this being’s immense magic.

“You carry a heavy burden…Simon Riley.” The woman’s voice whispered once again. It held immense weight with every word, every syllable that slipped through their connected minds placed an invisible stone on his chest.

"There are many who would do horrific things for a single sliver of the power you hold," She continued, looking at him from across the crowded tavern. The buzzing in his mind had gone quiet. For the first time in decades, there was no thirst for vengeance, no desire to hunt and kill. He was just...himself.

"What are you?" He asked softly, slumping in his seat at the sheer relief he felt. There was no headache pulsing in his eyes. No more tension in his bones. He was free, free to feel his own feelings and not the combined feelings of himself and Ghost.

The strange woman turned away as the cloaked figure started speaking to her. The wave of anger and hatred surged through Simon so aggressively, that he almost fell over in his haste to stand. A few patrons looked up at him with rude expressions, irritated at the interruption to their relaxing evening. 

"Then the plan is set. We meet at the Siren's Rock in two weeks. There we shall start our plan." The handsome gentleman said while standing. The woman stood with him, nodding her head in respect towards the hooded figure.

"No...don't go. Please." Simon begged the woman in his mind, hoping, no- praying she could hear him. When was the last time he had prayed? He didn't know.

"We will meet again Simon Riley. Soon. Do not return to this tavern again. it is not safe for your kind." The soft voice replied. 

She had heard him. She had heard him and then responded. The parallels to this encounter and the one that earned him his increasingly angry passenger were...startling to say the least. 

"Where do I go? How do I find you? Please, you must tell me." He was following the woman and her companion without even realizing it. He wasn't telling his feet to move, yet they moved on their own. Once out the door, he found his feet frozen to the ground. Dark tendrils of smoke burrowed into the ground, keeping him rooted in place.

"Go easy boy...You follow that magic and you might end up a lemure or even worse, A will o wisp." Ghoast warned. The woman and her companion faded in the foggy distance, the mists of the evening shielding their figures. 

Simon growled and followed the couple through the misty darkness. Any sign of the couple was gone now, hidden by the layers of smoke from hearths and mists from the night air. His one chance to be free...gone like that.

"Wait. A Will O Wisp? Was that...that woman a fey creature? Like Price?" Simon asked Ghost. The devil grumbled from deep within Simon. 

"Yes. A new wielder to an ancient magic. Her kind...are as deadly as they are mysterious." Ghost stopped talking the second a presence filled Simon's mind. A presence also filled his physical space. 

"Freeze." The large man growled. A goliath by the looks of it. Simon wanted to fight back, but..something was keeping his body from moving. Ghost snarled and hissed in his mind, clawing at the fleshy prison that was Simon Riley. Simon could only look at the large and imposing figure. The man was huge! Standing easily two heads taller than Simon himself, the man was covered in tribal tattoos and sported a large-looking sword on his back.

"Follow" The man commanded and much to his chagrin, Simon obeyed. His feet followed the goliath as if they had a mind of their own. He had heard of magic wielders who could force someone to do something with one word. He had never come across someone who could do such a thing before.

The goliath escorted him to an empty warehouse on the outskirts of town. The man shoved a large wooden door open and shoved Simon into the dark space. Usually, the darkness felt like home to Simon. This darkness was a different entity completely. Simon couldn't see a thing. It was like someone had removed his eyes from their sockets. Inky black nothiness swirled around him. The shadows circled him, like a living, breathing thing. There was the sound of the heavy wooden door slamming and then...nothing. No sound either. Simon tried making simple sounds, sighing softly, sniffling, or shifting his feet. There was no sound in the slightest.

Curious, he reached out to the presence of Ghost. He could still feel the Devil, but if the devil was speaking to him, he couldn't hear it. A sigh of relief slipped from his mouth. He could relax a bit. His thoughts were completely his own.

Or so he thought. 

There was a gentle touch on his back, like a feather brushing against his tunic. He whirled around, his fist contacting with nothing but air. There was another touch, this time on his shoulder. Again he swung out into the darkness, only to find the side of a wooden crate that quickly splintered. 

A hand touched his chest and he froze. The hand was warm and slightly tingly. "Easy now big boy. I'm not going to hurt you." A voice whispered in his ear. The voice of the woman from before. There was a soft snap of fingers and the darkness vanished, leaving Simon alone in a damp warehouse illuminated by various torches.

A figure sat on one of the larger crates above him, examining their nails as if bored. Simon drew his shortsword and began an incantation but nothing happened. 

"Oh please. Your words won't work in here." The figure spoke. Their voice was completely androgynous and when they finally hopped off the crate and onto the floor, Simon could see why.

Changelings were rare things in the material plane. When a Doppelganger finds and mates with a powerful enough feyling, a new creature is made. A creature that can change shape at will while still holding sanity and personality. They had all been hunted down centuries ago. Why was this one here?

"You've been silenced, my dear hunter." The changeling hissed, their eyes a glowing shade of white in the darkness of the warehouse. "but don't worry...I can still hear your thoughts." The changeling shifted before his eyes, their body changing to look like the woman earlier. 

"I think you remember me?" She said, her voice calm and ringing wonderfully in his head. He fell to his knees, feeling Ghost howl and writhe against this woman's magic.

"Awe...your little pet isn't very happy with me, probably because I can take his favorite toy away." Her voice was incredibly condescending but it clearly wasn't directed towards Simon himself. The devil inside him was forced out into the open by this woman. 

The writhing mass of shadow and bones seeped from every orifice Simon had. Simon hacked and coughed as a pool of liquid smoke congealed on the floor in a vaguely humanoid form. 

The woman smiled and waved at the figure. "Ah, there it is. Hello, my devilish friend? How has Hell been?" She asked. Ghost howled and screamed, trying to attack the changeling woman. The woman flicked her wrist and the devil went silent as a shimmery line of ethereal chains looped around its waist.

"You disappoint me Shervei, hunting down an innocent man and forcing him into a warlock pact, just to get at little ol' me? I'm touched!" The changeling laughed and the shimmering chains faded.

"You know for yourself that warlock pacts are as binding as any other. You thought that by becoming a Devil, you had a chance? You poor thing." 

Ghost, or what was left of him, slithered back into Simon's body. Simon felt the devil curl up somewhere by his heart to lick his wounds. The woman smiled at Simon, it wasn't condescending or rude. It was genuine.

"I will say. Shervei does know how to pick them. I'm so sorry you got caught up in our business. I never expected him to go off and seek another person just to torment them." She flicked her wrist and one of the large crates opened, causing a large pile of furs to spill out.

"Now...I'm sure you felt the pull of the contract when you saw my companion. You're one of John's boys, right? A shattered hand?" She asked while hopping back up on her crate from before. Simon nodded, not feeling up to speaking yet. He was incredibly weakened by the forceful removal of Ghost, or..Shervei.

"I think we can come to an agreement of sorts. You help me kill my target and I get that devil out of you for good." Simon felt his heart lurch at the idea. To be free of Ghost would allow him to live a normal life again. He could go back to doing what he liked instead of just killing to survive. Sure he was a good assassin, but that doesn't mean he liked doing it. 

The bloodlust that Ghost fed off of was addictive, and once he was free of the devil...he would be a normal man again. After all these centuries, he would be free to wander as he pleased.

"Who's the target?" Simon asked, his voice firm. The woman smiled, lifting up a bottle of wine she had pulled out of her bag.

"My father. The king of Doppelgangers." She mused while popping the cork off the wine bottle and taking a swig. "The first doppelganger to ever be created. He needs to die, so I can take his place. Once he is dead, I will remove your little devil problem once and for all."

Simon took a deep breath.

"Don't do it. She's a feyling. You know how tricky they are." Ghost warned in his mind. Simon's resolve hardened.

"I'm in. Just one thing from you first." 

The woman turned her head. "of course."

"Your first name. The true one. just...to make things even." Simon knew all about the fey and their rules. Price had explained many of them to him. Names held power just as blood did. The woman smiled, hopped off her box, and extended her hand.

"(Y/n). Pleasure." 

Their hands meet and a new weight settles in his chest. Not unlike the one from Ghost, this weight was heavy with a bargain struck. But there was something else there too. A sort of..tingly feeling that buzzed deep in his bones. Something about this woman seemed right, and by all of the Gods, he was going to keep to her side.

"Now...come with me and we will discuss on how to kill a king who has no face." 

Simon followed her into the swirling mists of the night, not sure where this woman would lead him, but ready to find out.

[the-vex-archives]

Call of Duty MW2 Masterlist (2023)

General

Oneshots

"Crow" (Monster AU) ( x Eldritch Horror! Reader)

@diejager

No summary provided

"To tell a tale"

@watermaylon-writes

Imagine being Roach's daughter and getting the same callsign as him

Headcanons

"Civilian Clothes"

@ghostismybbygorl

Here what i think the call of duty civvy clothes would be

Incorrect Quotes

"APRIL FOOLS!" ( x OC)

@harveywritings92

"Drink Away my Sorrows" ( x Medic! Reader)

@warenai

"Spark Plugs"

@ragingbookdragon

"La Llorona"

@ragingbookdragon

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

@skylarsblue

Simon "Ghost" Riley

Oneshots

"Lost Cause"

@rileyslibrary

Ghost is training you on interrogation techniques and thinks you’re a lost case. He’s wrong.

"Shadow & Light" (Male Reader)

@ragingbookdragon

No summary provided

"A Saving Grace"

@ragingbookdragon

No summary provided

Incorrect Quotes

"Bitch of The Year"

@harveywritings92

"She's Not Wrong" (Monster AU) ( x Konig)

@harveywritings92

"Subtext" ( x Detective! Ghost)

@archiviststar

"Hiccups" ( x OC)

@httplvki

"Nap"

@harveywritings92

"2 Months" ( x Konig)

@harveywritings92

"Are You Ugly?" ( x Faceless! Reader)

@drinkyourwater01

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

Incorrect Quotes

"Left-Handed"

@harveywritings92

??? "Konig" ???

Incorrect Quotes

"She's Not Wrong" (Monster AU) ( x Ghost)

@harveywritings92

"That's my Type"

@harveywritings92

"2 Months" ( x Ghost)

@harveywritings92

Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra

Oneshots

"This is Why we Fight" ( x OC)

@ragingbookdragon

No summary provided

Alejandro "???" Vargas

Oneshots

"Good in Theory, Better in Practice"

@ragingbookdragon

No summary provided

[redandblackpoetry]

ur writing is top-tier so no worries there, and it's very writer of u to say u like to break characters and put them back together. fic writers are a different breed istg LMAO

eldritch monsters and their workings being left vague is actually v interesting to me bc what ppl don't know, they fear, so it's actually a good way to write horror stuff i feel like. however the good lil student in me who has taken kind of detailed biology lessons several years ago says that i am very much grateful for and on board with u giving them a nerf in the sense of needing nutrition bc FUCK IT i tried to explain and continue this sentence but after failing to get out what i wanted to say and deleting my words like 4 times, i've come to the conclusion that i'm too lazy to get into its details but. yeah it makes sense. anyway it's insane to read that cthulhu is ghost's nephew from a neutral point of view, i hope u know. i wanna learn more abt this where is my time machine i need to go to a point of time in which this fic is finished and all my questions are answered so that i can come back and bug u abt how much i loved reading it

also this fic made me google lovecraft a bit and. is it just me or does he look a bit like samuel roukin. am i crazy???? simon riley is canonically h. p. lovecraft confirmed????

for the remembering details stuff, idk abt other readers but i am abysmal at it. which is why i actually forgot u've mentioned roach before, i caught that detail at the time but i wait one day and my brain bluescreens so i was like will roach be here? that's why i reread ur entire fic from the start when there's an update so i don't miss anything. anyway 6-story-tall-but-somehow-still-smol!ghost is like actually one of my favorite things now bc considering what he is and how simon's body is like BUILT is hilarious to me. imagining him pulling the 'but i'm tiny' card on some situation and the rest of the 141 going 'the fuck did u say bitch???' is just amazing. also gaz going 'yes u are' and metaphorically squishing his cheeks would be insanely brilliant, so.

oh and simon and ghost are murder bfs btw. that's their duo name. u can thank me for it later. bUT HOLD THE FUCK UP TF DO U MEAN UR CONSIDERING WRITING THE ONE THING I TOLD U I WAS SCARED OF SEEING??? PLS NO (do it it'd be so funny) (by funny i mean i'd have a breakdown and start sobbing uncontrollably) (do it anyway, i wanna see the world burn)

monsterfucker simon is. i approve. i am physically grinning after reading that paragraph, i hope u know. he's like 'fucking monsters up since 2009' *sees ghost* 'my bad, let me correct myself: fucking monsters since 2009' anyway i am very pleased to have gotten u thinking abt naughty soap/ghost/simon bc. i am like !!!! at the idea of reading ur take on that dynamic v much!!!!!!!! pls soap would be so over his head i am. i'm Interested. (making that my motto these days thanks to u)

mermay roach!!!!!! he's!!!! baby!!!!! he deserves the spotlight!!!!!! yes pls!!!!!!!!! my inbox is open and also i am ready to spare my leftover one and a half neurons for this as it is a worthy cause, tyvm

but yeah venom is my hidden obsession. and now that u've mentioned it yeah that plot is v close to it and. i'm. i'll sob. i'll actually sob wait please venom au goes so hard with ur ghost????? i'll cry i can't believe this fic doesn't exist in this very second, i'll sit down and have a temper tantrum like a 5yo right this second bc all these ideas we've talked abt so far aren't existing in like a 100k+ fic form that i can read to sleep tonight bc that's a travesty, how dare the world inconvenience me like this?????

the length of these asks are making me feel like a poor, stranded wife in the 1900s sending letters to her soldier husband who is off to fight in a war btw. come back home mutual, i miss u <3

Fic writers truly are a different breed, its honestly fascinating how popular hurt/comfort fics are, tho I do understand it

I am constantly at war with myself over how much do I explain versus how much do I leave up to the mystery/horror of it. I'm glad you enjoyed my giving them nutrition! Would you believe I'm kinda terrible with biology and several of the squishy sciences? Because I absolutely am, history and literary analysis was always my stronger suits. And yeah its bonkers to say shit like Cthulhu is Ghost's nephew without any context, you're gonna love the next chapter because family tree shits gonna get crazy

If you invent a time machine can you let me know so I can also read my own fic and take notes?

And I did not realize they looked so similar before! Huh!

And you reread my fic when there's a new chapter??? Can you hear by brain bluescreen?

1,000% thats how it would go, Gaz would be like 'absolutely a tiny and adorable (giant) Ghost', Soap would be somewhere between turned on by the size different and baffled swearing about how hes a big motherfucker, Price would be like 'if Ghost is the small one how big are his kind usually?'

Hell yeah murder boyfriends! (And you're in luck because I sometimes like burning the world)

I'm glad you approve of monsterfucker simon lol, glad I made you smile! Soap would definitely be in over his head, but he would definitely enjoy every minute of it, I think he would like being ruined in the best way possible (and I will accept that motto of yours gladly)

Darling, sweet roach! My problem is I love developing characters and worlds but plot, I suck at making a plot. I might consult your askbox in the future for wisdom

I am also upset that these ideas arent 100k fics and given time I'll roll up my sleeves and say if no one else will I'll do it myself, god I love the idea of a venom au

I will gladly accept your letters while I'm off in the War (different time zone), love hearing from you as always. I await your next letter, beloved mutual as I fight in the trenches of poly 141 ideas

[cod-dump]

All the "I'm Not Simon Riley I'm Ghost" chapters are now all on here. All previous posts with links to the fic on AO3 have been edited with the chapter itself underneath a cut. The whole fic can be found by the the name in the tags.

[cod-dump]

I'm Not Simon Riley I'm Ghost

Chapter 8

SoapGhost

TW: Smut/Masturbation in this chapter

Soap POV

___

Soap, apparently, didn't know danger when it was looking right at him. He was told before that he could be overly friendly, meeting someone with open arms and his heart on his sleeve. He never met a stranger. And when he met Lieutenant Riley, the Ghost, he treated him no different than any other man or woman he's worked with.

Ghost, he admit, wasn't welcoming. But Soap chalked it up to the stressful mission that they were on. From Hassan to Las Almas and back to Hassan, Soap liked to think he warmed up to the man. By the end of it, by the time Ghost sniped Hassan and saved Soap's life— He felt that he worked his way past Ghost's barriers. He didn't really think much of Ghost's rare appearances when they made it back to base. Ghost was a busy man and Soap respected that.

So Soap made friends and moved on with his life. But Ghost was at the back of his head. Those dark eyes that Soap found himself longing to get lost in. He admits that he found the big guy attractive. Back when Ghost showed his face when they formed Ghost Team, past the brutal scars, he saw a beautiful man. A man who has seen the worst of the worst. When their eyes met Soap felt his breath get trapped in his throat.

Soap would see Ghost around base and would always debate whether or not to talk to him. Months of Soap fighting with himself on whether or not to talk to Ghost finally came to a end when he was joking with his friends. He turned his eye to see Ghost watching him. Without thought he beckoned him over. He was giddy when he watched the man walk over. Soap tried to get him and his friends interacting but they seemed horrified by his attempts to joke with the man.

Soap knew Ghost's reputation. People were afraid of him. He could understand that but they were certainly overreacting.

Then one of his friends disappeared and everyone looked at Ghost. Soap couldn't believe them. Ghost was helping investigate Nigel's disappearance! If Price suspected him he wouldn't put him on the investigation. It made him angry, honestly. He did his best to treat Ghost the same as before (which was easy). 

He had first gone to Ghost's office when he noticed he had never seen Ghost in the mess hall. Ever. So he stopped by to ask the man if he had eaten that day. Ghost was sitting at his desk, balaclava on, scribbling away at something. But once he saw Soap and registered what he had said, the man had the most puzzled look in his eyes. Like he couldn't believe that Soap took time out of his day to check on him.

Ghost chased him off without answering his question. So Soap took as he hadn't eaten and decided to run to town. When he came back with a burger from a local restaurant (something so much more tasty than the slop they served in the mess hall) and dropped by to give it to Ghost, Ghost looked at him like he had grown two heads. He was promptly chased out again, but Soap didn't leave with the burger so he considered it a mission accomplished and left.

He made it a point to check on Ghost throughout the week. Each time Ghost ran him off. But Soap kept coming back. He was always considered a stubborn man by his family and friends. And he knows Ghost now knew that as well.

One evening, Soap and Gaz decided to go spar. And to their surprise (and Soap's delight), Ghost was there.

"Hey, LT!"

Ghost froze in place before turning around to face him, "Sergeant."

Soap couldn't help but appreciate Ghost's bare arms. They were covered in scars that appeared very faint and hard to see. Like they were very old. Which was odd because Soap knows that Ghost should have some very noticeable scars. But he ignores the scars in favor to oogle Ghost's strong arms.

"Me and Gaz were about to spar. Care to referee?"

Ghost appeared to be thinking for a moment, eyes looking past Soap before he looks back, "Sure."

Soap grins, feeling a surge of determination to look good in front of Ghost and take down Gaz as quick and efficiently as possible. Gaz seemed out of it the first round and got pinned rather quickly. Once Gaz tapped out Soap jumped up and laughed.

"Were you even trying?"

Gaz snaps out of whatever daze he was in and focuses on Soap, "One more round, I'll kick your ass!"

But Gaz, again, got his ass handed to him by Soap. Soap could hear Gaz growl out in frustration before tapping out. Soap watches as Gaz gets back up and gets into position. He looks to Ghost and his big arms and shirt that was tight across his chest-

He looks back to Gaz, "I need a real challenge, Gaz. How 'bout you, LT?"

Both Ghost and Gaz were surprised by this. Gaz stepped to the side, allowing Soap to get a good look at Ghost. God, he's nothing but muscle!

"You want to get in the ring with me?"

"Yes, sir. But, if you decline I understand," Soap mocks, ignoring the horror written across Gaz's face.

"He's joking!"

Ghost ignores Gaz's comment and climbs into the ring. He walks up to Soap and looks down at him, eyes so dark and inviting.

"You think you can take me?"

Soap couldn't help but appreciate Ghost's well-built frame, definitely not thinking with his head at the moment.

"Yes, sir."

Ghost huffs, amused, "We'll see about that."

The sheer excitement Soap felt-- He had to restrain himself from appearing like a kid on Christmas. Soap noticed Gaz rapid fire texting someone but he chose to focus on Ghost. He loved Gaz, and he was a attractive guy. But right now he was faced with a five course meal that he desperately wanted a taste of. Soap made the first move out of eagerness, and Ghost was like a brick wall. At some point Soap managed to back Ghost into a corner.

"What's the matter? The Ghost scared?"

In that moment, in a blink of an eye, Soap swore he wasn't looking at Ghost anymore. His eyes flickered to an oily black, the veins on his face pumping black blood, before his eyes were human again. Ghost had him pinned to the ground in a instant and the only thing Soap could feel was shock and a seedlingly of fear deep within him.

Ghost leans close to him and whispers in his year, "No, but you should be."

Then Ghost was gone. Soap laid there for several minutes, trying to process what had happened, what he had seen. But he couldn't understand it. As he sat up and watched Ghost leave the gym, as Gaz jumped into the ring to make sure he was okay, questions began to form. When everyone asked him what happened, what he had seen, he just avoided their gaze.

"I don't know."

Soap would dive into research. Trying to pinpoint what had happened with Ghost. He thought back to what Nigel told him about two of Ghost's bunkmates disappearing without a trace... And how Nigel followed closely after. No matter how much Soap searched he never found satisfying answers. So, after a week, he decided to bite the bullet and go see Ghost himself.

He found himself in front of Ghost's door. He took several minutes to steel himself before knocking.

"Enter."

Ghost's deep voice made Soap shudder. Soap opens the door and steps inside. Ghost was huddled over his desk, not looking up to see who it was. Soap's voice was trapped in his throat, unable to speak. He shuts the door behind him and Ghost finally grunts before looking up. He honestly looked surprised to see him.

"Sergeant MacTavish. What brings you here?"

Soap meets Ghost's human eyes before he finally finds his voice, "What are you?"

Ghost's eyes changed, oily black, before they returned to that very human dark brown. He tilts his head in a way that reminded Soap of a stalking tiger before he began to stand up.

"What do you mean?"

Soap swallows, "I... When I had seen your face back at Las Almas I didn't think much of those scars but... After seeing your eyes-"

Soap was suddenly pinned against the door. He gasps, eyes blinking when he realized how close Ghost suddenly was. No human could move that fast. He found himself breathing heavy, unable to look away from Ghost's eyes.

"Been thinking about this, haven't you? Talking with your friends about what you saw?"

The threatening tone accompanied by Ghost's eyes going black made Soap squeak, "N-No, sir! I haven't said a word to anyone!"

Ghost backs away a foot as he laughs, "Am I supposed to believe that?"

Ghost reaches up and rips off his balaclava and throws it to the floor. Unlike in Las Almas, his mouth was fucking open. The extended smile and split down his chin wasn't scars, they were apart of his mouth. Soap feels fear prick along his spine, his heart beat speeding up like he was running a marathon. Ghost snarls and Soap begins to think he was about to figure out what happened to all those people who disappeared.

"I swear to you! I haven't told anyone!"

Ghost gets in his face, teeth bared, "Then why the fuck come here? Hmm? Could've pretended you didn't see anything. Could've just left things be."

Ghost's voice seemed to crack and chip away, and on the other side was a voice that made Soap believe in the Devil.

Soap presses against Ghost's chest, as if that would keep him from tearing into his face with his way too many teeth. Soap breathes hard, "I... I had to know."

Ghost looks him over before grabbing him by his shirt and all but throws him towards the desk. Soap trips but manages to catch himself on the desk, turning to see Ghost leaning on the door. For a moment they stare at each other before Ghost motions for Soap to start talking.

"I heard things since joining the 141. Stuff about creatures they would come across. That some of them are recruited into 141... And then I saw you and... Is that true?"

Ghost tilts his head as he thinks before responding, "No. Not counting me, there are no supernatural or preternatural beings on the task force. I would know."

Soap goes to speak but Ghost cuts him off, "There are many creatures in the world other than humans. Most hide in plain sight. And all of us don't want to be found and known about."

Soap gulps as that sentence ends in a growl.

"In the ring-"

"I slipped," Ghost says casually. 

Soap feels himself calming. They were having a civil conversation and Soap was still alive. That's good! 

Then Ghost speaks again, "The last person who saw me slip is dead."

Soap's grip on the desk tightens.

"No one else knows about you?"

"No one alive."

Soap frowns in confusion, "Not even Price?"

Ghost doesn't respond. 

"Isn't it lonely?"

Soap couldn't help but think about what kind of life Ghost was living. He never hung out in the commons. Never ate with everyone else. Practically isolated himself from everyone. Probably pushing away any potential relationships in order to protect himself. And if someone found out what he was... He killed them.

"I get it. You had to kill them to keep yourself safe."

Ghost's lost in thought expression changes, "More like I need to eat."

That six worded sentence made Soap's blood run cold, "You-You need to eat?"

Ghost tilts his head, eyes widening in a mocking manner, "Everyone needs to eat, Sergeant. From plankton to plants to fungus. Didn't you learn that in school?"

Realization hits Soap like a fucking train.

"You eat people?"

Ghost pushes himself away from the door, "Have you tasted yourself? Rather tasty."

In a blink of an eye Soap was pinned against Ghost's desk. Ghost fucking bit him on his shoulder and Soap isn't given a chance to scream. Ghost covers his mouth with his hand and as pain set in, Soap thinks about how no one was going to know what happened to him.

Then... Ghost started to drink his blood. Lapping it up with a very long tongue, sucking on the wound. He rips Soap's shirt more and continues to drink up Soap's blood. Soap couldn't think about anything else other than how Ghost was pressed against his body, about how the pain felt and how that fucking tongue felt against his skin. Soap felt his face heat up as he focused on breathing through his nose.

Ghost suddenly pulls away from his shoulder and looks down at him. Soap meet his black eyes, confused to why he had stopped... And confused to why he wasn't trying to escape. Ghost removes his hand from Soap's mouth and Soap sucks in a breath of air. Ghost seemed as confused as him as he looked him over. Soap stared at Ghost's mouth, at where that devilish tongue was hiding.

Ghost pulls away and Soap wondered why he did. After a couple seconds Soap begun to think clearly and as he sits up, he looks at Ghost with wide eyes when he realizes what he was feeling.

"I-I don't know-"

Soap suddenly could feel the painful boner in his pants. He blushes and crosses his legs to hide it, hissing when he disturbs his wounded shoulder.

Soap hears Ghost growl and looks at him. Ghost had a pissed off look on his face as he tears at Soap's shirt and starts to bandage his shoulder. Ghost was avoiding looking at him as he ties off the makeshift bandage before he steps around the desk and grabs his jacket. He throws it at Soap who catches it, still very confused.

Is he not going to kill me?

"Go to the med-bay and get that shoulder patched up."

"Wha-"

Ghost growls at him, "You heard me."

Soap gets off the desk and puts on the jacket before heading towards the door. Right as he grabs the door knob Ghost speaks again.

"And Sergeant-"

Soap turns to look at him. His eyes were no longer black.

"Not a fucking word."

Soap commits Ghost's face to memory before leaving. Once the door clicks shut he let's out a heavy breath. He starts to walk to the med-bay, ignoring his boner because he was way too confused to address what having that implies.

When Soap arrived at the med-bay he almost ran into someone because of his lack of focus. All he could think about was Ghost. When the doctor saw his shoulder she freaked the fuck out and pulled him into a room. As she took off the makeshift bandaged and asked him what had happened, Soap's mind went blank.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?" The doctor asks, concern laced in her voice. Soap blinks and blurts out something else.

"I fell!"

The doctor stops what she's doing to pull back and stare at him. Soap registers how dumb that sounded.

"It's a kink thing."

The doctor looks at his shoulder with a face that screamed "What the fuck" before she gets to work on patching him up. Soap spends the rest of his time staring at the wall as the doctor disinfecting his wound. She tells him that it's not as bad as it looks and it should be healed in no time.

"I'm going to require that you have your arm in a sling to help limit movement so your shoulder heals quickly. Is that understood?"

Soap nods, "Yes, ma'am."

He was about to leave when the doctor said one last thing, "Try to be more careful next time!"

Soap made it back to his room, unable to do anything but rest. The shoulder that was hurt was attached to his drawing arm so he couldn't do that to pass the time. So he decided to just go to bed. Laying in his bed, he tried to force his mind to quiet down but... He couldn't stop thinking about Ghost. Ghost and that he's not human he's... Something else.

He was going to kill me. Eat me...

Yet... He didn't. He was clearly frustrated by his own decision to not kill Soap. Soap sighs, his mind wandering back to his interesting reaction to Ghost drinking his blood. The way his lips felt against his skin. And that tongue-- Why was it so long? 

Soap tries to shake the thoughts away but they kept wandering back. Back to how it felt to be pinned under Ghost, to what that he could do to him with his tongue alone. Soap thinks back further to when they sparred. To Ghost's voice in his ear. It was a threat but the tone he used was sinful. Soap's breath shudders as his good hand wanders down his stomach as he wonders how it would feel if Ghost touched him.

What if things went differently in his office? Instead of him trying to kill and eat Soap, he would try to satisfy a different kind of hunger.

Soap takes a deep breath as his hand slips past his waistband and ventures into his underwear. He kept trying to remind himself that Ghost tried to fucking kill him. But his mind kept bringing up-

What if he fucked me instead?

Soap felt no different than a teenage boy touching himself to the thought of his teacher doing other things to him than scold him for misbehaving. Soap could almost imagine Ghost leaning over him, lips pressed to his ear and muttering delicious things to him.

"I wonder what you would sound like when my tongue is inside you."

Soap sucks in air through his nose, finally giving in and taking his hard cock in his hand. He wasn't sure what was making Ghost so damn irresistible. The fact that he's his superior officer? Or that tongue? His voice? Or maybe it's the fact that he could clearly kill him but chose not to. What if he chose to use him? There would be nothing Soap could do but submit.

Soap was suddenly back on that desk, Ghost leaning over him. His teeth grazing Soap's neck, slicing the skin enough to make him bleed. He sucks along the wound, grinding against Soap as he does. Soap grabs the back of Ghost's head, fingers tangling into that short, choppy, platinum blonde hair. Ghost pulls away to rip off Soap's pants and underwear. He then undoes his belt and button pants, all too slow for Soap. Ghost clearly does it on purpose to tease him.

Ghost takes out his cock and Soap's mouth waters. Ghost presses against Soap's ass and grinds, Soap begging for him to fuck him already. Ghost grins, showing off those teeth that would shred him apart him. Ghost's mouth opens and that tongue slides out. Ghost licks the wound on Soap's neck before he pushes up Soap's shirt and licks down his stomach all the way to his aching cock. The tip of the tongue swirls around the head of Soap's cock, making him moan. Soap's hands are pinned to the desk as Simon licks his cock. This was better than any blowjob he ever had.

Soap whines when Ghost's tongue slides off his cock only to gasp as it presses against his hole. That tongue wormed its way inside him and Soap cries out. It was very different from a cock but it was a good different. Ghost releases Soap's hands to fuck him with his fingers alongside his tongue. Soap arches his back as Ghost's tongue finds his prostate and fucking laps at it. Soap's hands go to Ghost's head as the beast fucks him so good.

Soap feels his end coming and--

Soap cums hard on his stomach, panting. He opens his eyes and looks around his room. He pulls his hand away from his softening cock, feeling exhausted all the sudden. But he reaches over and grabs a tissue from his nightstand, hissing as he disturbs his shoulder. He cleans himself up as best as he can before tossing away the tissue and laying back down in the bed.

Normally when Soap masterbates with someone he personally knows in mind he feels shame and disgust. But he still felt that deep desire. Though approaching Ghost in such a manner, especially after him almost killing him, was most definitely not a good idea. But he kept thinking about Ghost. His eyes flutter shut as he thinks about what he's going to tell his friends what happened to his arm.