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ghostgorlsworld · 6 months

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Moondrunk Monster Pt 1 (Ghost x reader)

Hey so this is my first Call of duty fanfic, so the characters might be wack. The general idea for this one is based off of a Love, Death, Robots episode where werewolves are basically in the military.

You're a retired combat medic that made a mistake, costing you your cushy office job. As punishment, you're sent to an active war zone, where you meet the 141, a squad of werewolves that slowly accept you as their own. (I know, I know I'm bad at summarizing)

Warnings: Extreme violence, smut in the future

Part 1

It was odd to think of how much your life had changed in just a few weeks. At the beginning of the year, you were placed in a cushy job at a base where you were paid large amounts of money to stitch up red-faced recruits and perform physicals on the higher ups–it had been nice, a simple existence where you didn’t have to see blown apart soldiers or hold poor boys down while they screamed and screamed.

But things changed, and for the punishment of your mistake, you were flown here. An active warzone deep in the desert, where there were no boyish recruits eager to please, just grizzled soldiers that look at you like an intruder, a hen in the midst of foxes.

When you were younger, this was easier. You had liked the excitement and adrenaline of danger, of scurrying in the heat of gunfire with your medpack to save lives.

Now you’re older, grumpier, and generally out of shape. They hadn’t given you time to prepare before the Colonel shipped you out here, so here you were in an ill-fitting uniform, setting up your medic bay beside the wolf-soldier’s tent because the Captain insisted that was the only space left in camp.

Their original medic had died after both he and his supplies were blasted to pieces. Captain Graves shortly put in a request for an experienced combat medic, and you could imagine his surprise when he saw you step off the plane, a woman in her early thirties, soft from five years of office work.

The Captain, understandably, hated you. He was saddled with an overweight female medic and a squad of wolves, you were sure the combination put a few extra gray hairs on his head.

Ironically, wolf-soldiers were highly sought after in the military. They were quicker, stronger, and smarter than even the best of the best, able to walk barefoot in the desert without a blister or sniff out an enemy from miles away. You had seen a wolf blown nearly in half get up and walk out of your tent the next day.

Captain’s group was a particularly intimidating bunch. There was Johnny–or Soap, as he preferred–a mohawked wolf with charming blue eyes and a deadly sense of humor. Gaz was the sweetheart of the bunch, smiling at you in a friendly sort of manner whenever you were forced to sit at the end of their lunch table.

Price was their leader, a wide man with a deep voice and commanding presence. Honestly, he reminded you of your father.

Then there was Ghost, the wolf in the skull mask. He was the biggest, all broad shoulders and muscles encased in a healthy layer of fat–and, from what you had learned from your patients, the most dangerous.

On your first day, you had to dig a piece of shrapnel the size of your hand out of his shoulder. Ghost refused when you offered wolf-friendly pain medication, seeming to enjoy your expression as you watched the skin around his gaping wound knit itself back together.

The other soldiers disliked them, simultaneously jealous and fearful of their abilities . The 141 were excluded from the rest, much like you were, so you spent meals at the other side of their table, minding your own business with a novel.

They didn’t seem to mind, after all, you spent half your time digging bullets out of them when the other medics refused to touch them. They weren’t used to humans being kind to them.

You quickly adjusted to life in the desert, sleeping in the back of the med bay in a rickety cot while your patients tossed and turned through the night. You got used to the early mornings and the shitty food, the screaming, the blood, settling back into a life that you had thought you left behind.

This morning was no different. You wake to the noise of shouting, the dark sky telling you it was far from morning.

“Where the fuck is the medic?” Price’s voice dominated over the others. You quickly stumble out of bed, shoving your legs through your pants and hastily buckling them as you hurried outside, wiping the sleep from your eyes.

The scene before you was gruesome. Gaz lay prone on the ground, throat slashed and guts strewn out of his belly like noodles.

If he were a man, he would be dead.

But even a wolf can die, and a body can’t heal around its own intestines.

You were awake in an instant, shouting orders to the men around you as you dropped to your knees. His pulse was slowing as more blood pooled into the dirt, his body unable to replace what he was losing so quickly.

The thing about werewolves is that they are partially human, which allows them to take human blood in small doses if the need calls for it. But the issue was the blood itself.

Every week, you get a shipment of fresh, cold O-negative blood, giving you ample supply for every occasion. But a sandstorm had interrupted the usual shipment yesterday, and while you knew that the shipment was supposed to arrive at noon later today, that didn’t help you now.

Gaz gagged, blood gurgling from his throat.

“Shit, shit,” Soap said, his mohawk slicked with his friend’s blood. “Is he gonna make it, doc?” Soldiers huddled around you, supplies in their hands. You ripped strips of gauze and placed them over his throat, slowing the bleeding before you started on his gutted stomach.

“We’re out of transfusion blood,” you announced. “Is any soldier here O-negative?”

Silence. No human soldier would volunteer to give his own blood to a wolf.

Except you. You nodded, swiping an alcohol swab into the crease of your elbow before connecting the two of you with an IV, the bright red of your blood flowing into his veins at the gasps of both human and wolf around you.

It would stir up the healing process so you worked quickly, Amon, another medic, joining you as you worked on closing his stomach.

It felt like hours before his pulse grew strong again, but you knew it could only be ten, twenty minutes. You slid the IV out of your arm, blinking as black spots appeared in your vision.

You might have given a bit too much.

Gaz looked at you, his dark eyes replaced by an eerie yellow stare. A chill stole up your spine.

“Good morning,” you said through numb lips, taking a peek under the gauze on his throat. It was now only a pale scar, just a memory of a wound. “Look at that, soldier, you’re practically brand new.”

Gaz smiled weakly, his head falling back into the dirt. Soap whooped, gripping your shoulder in a vicious hug. “Good job, lass, I thought the pup was gone for sure.”

You stumbled at the weight of him, suddenly feeling exhausted. “Amon, will you get him set up in the infirmary? I think I need a moment.”

Price waved Soap off, gripping your elbow in a guiding hold. “Ease off the poor girl, Johnny, she’s dead on her feet.”

Soap merely grinned apologetically, ruffling your bedhead with a rough palm before helping the others move Gaz into the infirmary.

Ghost stood behind you, a reaper in sand-colored tactical pants. Price pushed you gently into Ghost’s direction, “Get her something to eat, Lieutenant.” “I’m alright,” you tried to insist, a spike of nerves in your belly about being with Ghost. He was the least human of them all.

“That was an order, doc,” Ghost said, his voice a dry rumble as his hand fell on your shoulder. “Go on.”

You allowed yourself to be herded to 141’s tent, having half a mind to curl up in one of their bunks and sleep until dawn, free from the smell of blood and antiseptic.

Their tent was neat and smelled, well, like an animal den–not unpleasant, just overwhelmingly…male.

Ghost nudged you towards the sink without a word.

It took you a moment to see that you were still wearing gloves, caked in Gaz’s blood. You stripped them off, then began soaping up your hands and forearms, scrubbing the red from your skin.

When you were clean, you hovered over a cot, about to take a seat for your shaky legs.

Ghost stiffened from where he was crouched, his hands in a tub of supplies. “Not that one.” You glanced down, seeing the Scottish flag on the wall, the photos of a couple that looked exactly like Johnny. “Oh, sorry.”

He jerked his head to another cot, this one bare of any decoration except for a cold cup of tea. You assumed it was Price’s, perhaps he doesn’t mind the stench of a human on his sheets.

You took a seat, your hands trembling in your lap. Ghost tossed an army bar your way. “Eat,” he said, in a tone that didn’t invite an argument.

“Ew,” you said, eyeing the packaging. He gave you a dark-eyed look, the kind that probably made wolves bare their bellies and whine. “Oh fine,” you huffed, tearing into it. It was awful, the kind of chalky that let you know they stuffed enough nutrition and calories in the bland, tasteless bar to keep a soldier going for days. You chewed and watched Ghost shift around in the makeshift kitchen, heating a pot of water over a spindly propane stove.

Was he making-

“Drink this,” Ghost said, passing over a cup of tea. He kept one for himself, pulling up a chair to sit across from you. He was still filthy from whatever mission the Captain had set them on, blood and dirt smeared over his gear and mask.

“Thank you,” you said, sniffing it doubtfully. You were American, so you didn’t have much taste for tea unless it was iced and sweet.

But when someone like Ghost makes you a cup of tea, you drink the fucking tea.

He nodded, turning away from you so he could lift his mask over his mouth to drink his tea. You looked away quickly, focusing your attention on the Scotland flag on Soap’s corner.

The two of you sit in silence for a long time, long enough that your cup is drained and you’re blinking heavily at the darkness still outside.

“Go on,” Ghost said, slipping the cup out of your hand.

You hide a yawn, pushing yourself up from the bed.“It’s alright, LT, I’ve got my own bed somewhere.” “You have half a dozen men in your tent, love.” Ghost backed you up against the bed, his heavy hand on your shoulder. “Sleep. We’ll keep an eye on Kyle.”

It made sense. You kicked off your boots and curled up on the cot, hiding your throbbing head in a pillow that smelled like gunpowder and musk.

Ghost ducked out of the tent as you laid down, your eyes falling on a skull mask folded up neatly beside the cot.

It was then that you realized this was his bed.

#cod x reader #ghost x reader #cod mw2 #simon riley x reader #werewolf!Simon #ghost cod #soap mactavish #john price #gaz mw2

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astoundingbeyondbelief · 2 months

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Deleted/altered Monsterverse scenes in Godzilla & Kong: The Cinematic Storyboard Art of Richard Bennett

Kong: Skull Island

There's a longer opening sequence, with Marlowe discovering Gunpei's camp instead of them both crashing at around the same time.

Conrad stows away on the expedition instead of being hired as a tracker

Weaver and Conrad meet at a Philadelphia train station (no clue what the context was).

Kong swings around a helicopter while the gunner is still firing and the bullets hit another helicopter, which I think is the closest he's ever come to using a gun.

Packard's group watches Kong fight the Mire Squid instead of Chapman.

Very different take on the Iwi village, with smaller lost ships/planes incorporated into the architecture.

The big one: Conrad flashes back to an encounter with King Ghidorah in Vietnam. The three-headed monster's silhouette is basically just the Godzilla vs. King Ghidorah version, but he has at least five prehensile tails he uses to snatch up soldiers.

Conrad and Weaver are tied to a tree during the napalm plot against Kong. Another character sets them free and they go wild on a few soldiers, with Weaver hitting one on the head with a rock. The Skull Devil emerges in a separate scene.

Kong uses a plane wing as a weapon in the final fight.

The Skull Devil has a grappling tail similar to that of Otachi in Pacific Rim.

The Iwi fight Conrad's group (I think) as the Gray Fox is lowered down a waterfall with a pulley system and something ambushes Kong in the background. This one was especially hard to make any sense of without dialogue.

Godzilla: King of the Monsters

Jonah spies on Emma and Madison as they drive to Mothra's temple.

The video montage in the Senate hearing is done via hologram. A mushroom cloud is displayed while Serizawa argues with a senator.

Mark bows to a wolf that approaches him in a nice bit of foreshadowing.

Mothra arrives in Boston alongside Godzilla instead of turning up later.

Godzilla vs. Kong

In an alternate opening, the Iwi retell the history between Godzilla and Kong's species using highly-elaborate puppets. There's a horned character loaded with weapons who briefly traps Godzilla in a cage and transforms into a Rodan-like figure. An ancient mecha?

Text mentions that "the Pensacola/Florida Godzilla attack scene was going to be much longer, involving a mall stampede.

A massive explosion takes place on Skull Island (I believe coming from the Vile Vortex there).

Jia is first shown signing with Kong just before the fleet engages Godzilla.

In true kaiju kid fashion, Jia messes with the controls of the ship to set Kong loose.

Nathan discovers his brother's crash site in the Hollow Earth and gets into a fight with several guards. This scene was definitely filmed.

Bernie was at one point a woman (drawn with ultra-short hair, although in general the human characters in these storyboards bear little resemblance to their screen counterparts).

Kong finds a skeleton of another member of his species sitting on the throne. He breaks off the skull, stares at it, and throws it aside.

Group troops engage Godzilla and Kong during their Hong Kong fight; neither even notices.

Mechagodzilla coils into a semi-sphere to deflect Godzilla's atomic breath.

Echoing his fight with Kong, Godzilla tries to outrun Mechagodzilla's Proton Scream through the streets of Hong Kong.

#godzilla king of the monsters 2019 #kong skull island #godzilla vs. kong #godzilla #king kong #skullcrawler #mothra #king ghidorah #mechagodzilla #kaiju #behind the scenes

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zaptrapp · 1 month

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Imagine The Bad Batch members angry at eachother or just in the mood to get on their bro’s last nerve and to reprimand the mischievous brother they start calling them the most absurd names…

Hunter

Hunnie, Hun, Huntie (he hates cute diminutives of his name, to be called cute and soft).

Miracle Blade serie 3, Skull Head (by Wrecker).

Pursuer (by Tech, don’t need to explain any further).

Hunta’ (by Echo, regs or anyone that has a death wish)

Sensodyne (like the toothpaste yes) since he has enhanced senses.

Half Pint/ Shot Glass (since he’s shorter than his bros)

Tech

TECHNOLOGY!! (by anyone who’s angry at him, mostly by his mom Hunter)

Specs/Specky (works the same as goggles)

Droid (derogatory, by Crosshair)

Don Giovanni, Mr. Steal Your Gf (by Wrecker since he had that thing with Phee going on).

Loudspeaker (by Echo)

Crosshair

Reticle, Collimator or Bullseye (mostly by Tech, he thinks it’s funny and should be his actual first name).

Toothpick Destroyer (by Wrecker)

Moaning Myrtle, Grumpy Grandfather (by Hunter)

Gray goose, Silver fox

Dried Plum

Wrecker

Food processor (by Tech)

Bottomless Pit (by anyone that has seen him eat)

Mr Boombastic

One Man Army (by Hunter)

Weights Belt, Triangle man, Meat Ball (by Crosshair)

Echo

Reverberation (by Tech… yes).

“FIVES! Oh, sorry…” (exclusively by Rex in a fit of anger for accident, like a grandma exchanging nephew’s names 20 times before getting yours right)

Mom (by Omega)

Kitchen Robot (that one time when Hunter tried to make “ends meet” by selling him as a droid).

That one serious reg (by Crosshair since I’ve never heard him call Echo… Echo. I don’t think he knows he has a name).

Omega (but they don’t get angry with her)

My daughter, kiddo, (by Hunter)

Tiny bundle of joy (by Tech)

Sweetness, cutiepie, bunny (by Wrecker)

Little birdie (by Crosshair YES HE CALLS HER THAT)

Peanut, Tuppence (by Echo)

SNOOPER! (by everyone)

#tbb #the bad batch #the bad batch headcanons #headcanons #tbb Hunter #tbb crosshair #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #tbb omega #tbb echo #star wars #the clone wars #clones #sw #tcw #captain rex

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blackbackedjackal · 11 months

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Gray Fox Skull with Hyperdontia - one extra premolar on the right side of her jaw.

#taxidermy #skull #witchblr #pathology #vulture culture #hyperdontia #jackaldermy

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hmtaxidermy · 3 months

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Cleaned a fox with a pellet to the nose

#gray fox #european mount #skull #taxidermy #vulture culture #taxidermist #cw dead animal #tw animal death #tw dead animal #cw animal death #oddities #bone cleaning

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pacificremains · 7 months

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Gray fox skull dyed with pisolithus fungus

#fox skull #natural dye #vulture culture #skull #animal skull

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thesistersarcheron · 6 months

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Pairing: Feysand Rating: E Tags: Smut, Angst, Necromancy & Resurrection, Ghosts & Haunting, Morally Gray Rhysand, Silver Fox Rhysand, Dark Magic, Halloween Summary: Feyre swallowed her horror and raised her tattooed hand. “The bargain was only for the rest of my life.”

Rhysand's grip on her tightened as he rested his chin on her shoulder. “Tamlin and I didn’t shuffle your corpse around for a week every month, if that’s what you’re thinking. I had to do some good old-fashioned graverobbing to get you, Feyre.”

Her spine stiffened. Prick!

(Or, what would have happened if Feyre wasn’t resurrected Under the Mountain?)

Read the first chapter on AO3 now! Snippet below the cut.

Feyre Archeron woke with a dry, rasping gasp.

She choked on that breath, the air fighting to reach her lungs as stale as final breaths and wilted grave offerings. It was thick with incense, too, and her eyes watered painfully as she turned her head to the side, coughing around the knot in her throat.

“Easy, love,” a velvet voice murmured above her. One gentle hand brushed away the tears gathering on her cheeks; another massaged her throat until her wheezing turned to smooth, steady breaths. “Easy.”

The fingertips on her cheeks migrated to her hair, brushing back a lock tangled in her lashes. The touch, though it was little more than a graze, was full of something protective, something possessive. Even though she was lightheaded and reeling, Feyre leaned into it, desperate for the safety it promised.

Her eyes burned as she blinked them open to look at Tamlin.

But it wasn’t Tamlin touching her, and immediately, she began to choke again.

Rhysand.

The High Lord of the Night Court stood over her, leaning over a short stone wall to stare down at her with silver-limned eyes.

He looked nothing like she remembered. The last she had seen of him, he had been frantic, crawling across a throne room with a dagger in his hand and death in his bloodshot eyes. His skin had been ashen, his hair in dusty disarray. His fine black clothes had also been covered in dust and blood, his teeth bared, his face feral, as he launched himself at Amarantha with a roar.

This wasn’t the same male.

Feyre stared at him, and he stared back, seemingly content for once to let her look without a sly comment.

And the more Feyre looked at him, the more she saw. His hair, though it bore an otherworldly blue-black shine that had been absent the last time she saw him, was shot through with silver at the temples. There were fine lines around his violet eyes, drawing her attention to the deep, bruised circles beneath them, but the rest of his skin was a warm, lovely shade of brown that spoke to fresh air and sunshine and good food.

Night-dark power flowed off of him like smoke, the foreboding mantle of a dark king. It was too dark, though, and writhing in agitation, as if something within his soul had rotted.

But he was not agitated. No, he watched her with utter adoration plain on his face, soft and awed.

Feyre looked away from his parted lips and the tear lined eyes, suddenly uncomfortable.

But, as she cataloged the width and breadth of his shoulders instead, she found more questions in his clothes. He was clad in black as usual, but the collar of his jacket was devoid of the fine embroidery she remembered, and the brilliant onyx dye was dull, a plain, somber shade.

Mourner’s black.

The suit of a dark, distinguished widower.

She must have lingered on the jet buttons at his collar—their subtle carving of three mountains the only sign of finery on him—a beat too long, because Rhys’s fingers cupped her face to guide her eyes back to his. It was a touch far too loving for a male who barely tolerated her, and Feyre flinched back.

Her shoulder hit stone, and her uneasy lungs collapsed as she realized where she lay.

Coffin! Her mind shrieked. The memory of a sickening, final snap echoed in her head, bouncing off the walls of her skull. I died! I died! I’m dead!

“You’re alive,” Rhys told her. His hushed voice was steady, but his lips trembled as he stroked her cheek. “So, so alive.”

She hated the way a knot inside of her chest loosened at the sound of his voice, at the feeling of the rough pad of his thumb lingering near her lips, so she slapped at his wrist. He huffed a dry laugh but removed his hand; at the perimeter of her mind, dark talons she hadn’t even noticed uncurled and retreated as well.

“You’re alright,” he murmured, curling a brittle lock of her hair around two fingers. “You’re alive, my love.”

But those talons must have been holding her tattered edges together, because the panic surged higher. Higher and higher and higher, roaring in her ears until all she could see behind her clenched-shut eyelids was a jeering crowd, until all she could feel was mud squelching beneath thin boots—

Until a pair of strong arms banded around her shoulders and the back of her knees. She thought she might have made some kind of noise, high and anxious, but the arms lifted her out of her coffin with such care that her heart stopped pounding at her breast and slowed to a throbbing ache instead. They held her tightly, as if she might disappear if they let her go.

A dizzying sense of deja vu seized her, and Feyre shoved at Rhysand until he deposited her on the floor beside the place where she had been laid to rest.

Her ribcage felt too small for her lungs, and she clutched at it as she watched him from her periphery.

“Breathe, Feyre.”

Feyre responded with a single finger. “I’m trying.”

Rhysand laughed again, softly this time, and shoved his hands into his pockets as he watched her.

“I suppose you are a bit out of practice.”

Fuck you, she thought as loudly as she could.

#feysand #feyre #rhysand #feyre archeron #my fics #poltergeist darling #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #a court of thorns and roses fic #halloween 2023

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eviltransswag · 10 months

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Evil Trans Swag Competitor List

I'm not posting a bracket because I'm still making it and it's by hand, but here are the characters who are going to be in the tournament! The match-ups will be randomly generated and there are 64 characters. The polls will last a week. Alright enough of that here is the list (in alphabetical order bc yeah)

Thanks everyone for submissions and the voter fraud!!

Akaza (Demon Slayer)

Akechi Goro (Persona 5)

Alexis Meade (Ugly Betty)

Artemis Fowl (Artemis Fowl series)

Ashiok (Magic the Gathering)

Beatrice (Umineko: When They Cry)

Bloodraven (Tales of Dunk and Egg)

Buggy the Clown (One Piece)

Cesar (Big Top Burger)

Sir Crocodile (One Piece)

Dio Brando (Jojo's Bizarre Adventure)

Dr. Frank-N-Furter (Rocky Horror Picture Show)

Dr. Starline (IDW Sonic)

Dracule Mihawk (One Piece)

Edward Nygma/The Riddler (DC Comics)

Elendira (Trigun)

Envy (Full Metal Alchemist)

Ghirahim (The Legend of Zelda: Skyward Sword)

Giselle Gewelle (Bleach)

Goblin King Jareth (Labyrinth)

Golden-Winged Peng (LEGO Monkie Kid)

Grelle Sutcliff (Black Butler)

Grima (Fire Emblem)

Heinz Doofenshmirtz (Phineas and Ferb)

Henry Cooldown (No More Heroes)

HIM (Powerpuff Girls)

Hubert von Vestra (Fire Emblem: Three Houses)

Ienaga Kano (Golden Kamuy)

Infinite the Jackal (Sonic the Hedgehog series)

James (Pokemon)

Jessie (Pokemon)

Jester Karture (Fate/Strange Fake)

John Hart (Torchwood)

Joseph Bertrand III (inFAMOUS 2)

Lestat de Lioncourt (The Vampire Chronicles)

Liquid Snake/Eli (Metal Gear Solid)

Loam Arnault (Entropic Float)

Merasmus (Team Fortress 2)

Metal Sonic (Sonic the Hedgehog series)

Millions Knives (Trigun)

Moot Tarbella (Epithet Erased)

Mordred Pendragon (The Mechanisms - High Noon Over Camelot)

Mutsuki Tooru (Tokyo Ghoul)

Neferpitou (Hunter x Hunter)

Orochimaru (Naruto)

Pigma Dengar (Star Fox)

Revolver Ocelot (Metal Gear Solid series)

Scaramouche/Wanderer (Genshin Impact)

Scourge the Hedgehog (Sonic the Hedgehog series)

SCP-004-J/Stanley Nichols (SCP Foundation)

Sephiroth (Final Fantasy VII)

Serafine Savoy (Lackadaisy)

Shamura (Cult of the Lamb)

Shiromori (Mystery Skulls Animated)

Silver (Pokemon)

Suzuki Emiri (High-Rise Invasion)

Sweet Tooth (Moshi Monsters)

The Leading Light (HLVRV)

Turkey (Dorohedoro)

Tyki Mikk (D. Gray Man)

Uncle Wiley (Hatchetfield)

Vaati (The Legend of Zelda series)

Vegas Theerapanyakul (Kinnporsche: The Series)

Yoshiya "Joshua" Kiryu (The World Ends With You)

#evil trans swag tournament #evil trans swag list

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