#cod monster au

[evolbones]

Little ‘Renevos’ doodle, get more access to COD sketches and comics on Patreon!

☀️ www.patreon.com/Evolbones

[kanescrochet]

What waves create

CoD fanfiction

Konig x reader

Monster AU

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The ocean never frightened you.

Humans did.

They sailed above your territory in fragile wooden hulls and steel-bellied monsters, greedy hands casting nets into waters that did not belong to them. You sang when you were hungry. You sang when you were lonely. You sang when you were angry.

And they always came.

Until the night something answered back.

The ship was military—armed, loud, arrogant. It cut through your waters like it owned them. You rose beneath it, fingers skimming the hull, listening to the vibrations of boots on deck.

You inhaled.

And you sang.

Your voice unfurled through the fog like silk dragged over a blade. Low. Sweet. Promising. The kind of melody that crawled into a man’s ribs and made a home there. One by one, you felt them—hearts stuttering, minds bending, feet moving toward the railing.

Splash.

Splash.

Splash.

Three men overboard before the fourth even realized what he was doing.

You smiled beneath the waves.

Then the water shifted.

Not from a body falling.

From something rising.

The sea around you went still. Fish scattered. Pressure built in your ears like a storm about to break.

You stopped singing.

Slowly, you turned.

He breached the surface like a nightmare surfacing from the deep.

Not human.

Not entirely.

Massive shoulders, broader than any man had a right to be. Pale skin stretched tight over muscle, mapped with faint, bioluminescent fractures that pulsed faint blue beneath the surface. His face was partially obscured by something fused to it—a mask of bone-like plating, jagged and permanent, as if the ocean itself had grown armor over him.

And his eyes—

God.

His eyes glowed the same color as the abyss at its deepest point.

He wasn’t drowning.

He was standing.

On the seafloor.

Watching you.

You darted backward, tail cutting the water. Instinct screamed at you to flee.

He moved faster.

The water compressed around him as he surged forward—not swimming, not quite. It was as if the sea obeyed him, bending around his body, propelling him in violent bursts.

A leviathan wearing the shape of a man.

He caught your wrist.

Your song burst from you on reflex—sharp, piercing, commanding.

Kneel. Obey. Come to me.

It worked on warships.

It did not work on him.

He flinched like it hurt—but his grip only tightened.

“You,” he rasped.

His voice didn’t travel like sound. It traveled like a tremor, vibrating through the water and into your bones.

“You are loud.”

You had never been described that way.

Men called you beautiful. Enchanting. Divine.

Not loud.

You hissed, baring sharp teeth. “Let go.”

He tilted his head, studying you like you were something caught in a net.

“You pull them,” he said slowly, glancing toward the sinking bodies. “You break their minds.”

“And?” you snapped.

“And I was sent to stop it.”

Ah.

A hunter.

You lunged, claws grazing his chest. They should have torn flesh.

Instead, they scraped across something harder than bone.

He didn’t retaliate. Didn’t strike. Didn’t crush you like he easily could have.

He simply held you there, suspended between the surface and the abyss.

Up close, you saw it—the way his body wasn’t entirely solid. Edges of him blurred, as if he was only partially tethered to this form. As if something much, much larger existed below.

“What are you?” you whispered before you could stop yourself.

His gaze flickered downward, into the black depths beneath your tails.

“A mistake,” he said.

Then, quieter—

“A weapon.”

Something in your chest twisted.

He wasn’t here to kill you.

He was here because someone above feared you.

You met his glowing stare.

“You’re not human.”

“No.”

“Not a merman.”

His lip twitched faintly, almost amused.

“No.”

You swallowed. “Then what?”

The sea grew heavier. Colder.

And far below, something vast shifted.

“I am what the deep made,” he murmured. “When men kept digging.”

Understanding dawned slowly, sickeningly.

They had tried to conquer the ocean.

So the ocean had built him.

A guardian.

A monster.

Your monster.

He loosened his grip slightly—not releasing you, but no longer restraining you like prey.

“You will leave the ships,” he said. Not a demand. A condition.

“And if I don’t?”

His bioluminescent fractures flared brighter.

“Then I will drag you where even your voice cannot reach.”

Silence stretched between you, thick as silt.

You could fight him.

You would lose.

Or—

You could stay.

Not as prey.

Not as enemy.

But as something new.

You lifted your free hand and, slowly—carefully—touched the glowing line beneath his collarbone.

He went very still.

“You’re not immune,” you murmured, feeling the faint hitch in his breath. “You just fight it.”

His eyes darkened.

“Yes.”

A smile curved your lips—slow, sharp.

“Good.”

For the first time since he rose from the abyss, something in him shifted. Not aggression.

Curiosity.

Dangerous curiosity.

The sea around you settled.

The ship above continued to sink.

And far below, the deep waited.

[morthern]

mid shift werewoof Soap being a brat :>

Ghost will have big problems in a few minutes..

[wrestlingwithlife]

Chew Toy (COD MONSTER AU)

When you have a mouthy werewolf on the team it pays to have thick skin (or scales).

COD!Monster!AU x Male!Kaiju!Reader

——————————————————————————————————————

Y/n let his eyes follow Soap’s pacing figure as he practically stalked around the common room, obviously restless.

His clawed hand came up, scratching at the skin around his collar.

Price had argued against it, but the higher ups had insisted on the kaiju wearing some kind of “fail safe” of sorts, should he go rouge.

So they settled on a shock collar, much to the displeasure of the task force.

Price had been badgering Laswell to get the order revoked, and the human female was doing her best, but Y/n wasn’t going to complain.

This was a massive upgrade to what he was used to.

“Is it like this for every werewolf?”

Soap’s eyes honed in on the Kaiju, zoning back in to process his question.

His eyes were a much more vibrant shade of blue, atleast they seemed to Y/n.

The werewolf flopped onto the couch with a huff, the cushion dipping and making him accidentally lean closer to the warm body beside him.

Allegedly.

“It’s different for every wolf, but they all experience atleast something similar on full moons.” Soap shrugged, tail flicking back and forth.

Seemed like at least one part of his body insisted on being active.

“Do kaiju’s get anything like that?”

Y/n clicked his tongue, leaning his head back in thought.

He’d only ever met one other Kaiju in his life cycle, and she’d seemed nothing but perfectly calm and capable at any given moment.

“Not that I know of, nothing like this though.” He mused, nodding to Soap’s twitching. “There’s no set time for it, at the very least.”

Soap mulled over his words before his thoughts were cut off.

“How do you cope?”

His eyes flickered back to the kaiju, eyes locking on to the intense e/c hues.

He was honestly shocked, and quite pleased, at how much he was putting into the conversation.

“Depends, sometimes I’m just put in quarantine, most of the time guys come in and help me blow off some steam.”

He caught the way Y/n stopped, giving him a look out of the corner of his eye.

In his defense, coming out of Soap, you just never knew.

“Not like that.” The werewolf huffed, swatting at the larger hybrids arm, before giving him a grin. “But if you wanna…~”

“Down boy.” Y/n snorted, shrugging the wolf off him.

Soap barked out a laugh, tossing his head back, tail speeding up.

“We’ll see~”

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜・

Y/n stood behind Ghost, watch over the wraiths shoulder through the one way glass into the padded training room.

Soap’s wolf prowled around, occasionally lunging at the few training dummies that had been left inside.

“Shouldn’t he have calmed down by now?” Gaz mused, leaning against one of the walls of the viewing room with his arms folded over his chest.

Price sighed, scratching his beard with a nod.

“Doesn’t normally take him this long. I’d say we go down, but he’s more mouthy than usual.”

“I can do it.”

All eyes turned onto the Kaiju, mostly out of surprise that he’d even spoken up at all.

“You sure? You’ve not gone through…” There was a loud rip as Soap tore the head off a dummy. “…this.”

Y/n shrugged, his heavy tail scraping the concrete floor behind him.

“My skins impenetrable, atleast to anything he can do, even like this.” He motioned to the wolf still throwing a fit below them.

Price mulled over it for a moment before reluctantly giving in.

“Fine, but if he gets to wild I’m pulling you out.”

Y/n made his way out of the viewing room and down towards the training room door.

Soap had honed in on him the second he’d heard the door click, posture ridged and ears forward.

His tail was wagging, and Y/n would have taken that as good sign, had he not immediately come barreling towards him.

Y/n braced, catching the wolf on his shoulder and stopping him in his tracks.

He heard the snapping of jaws, but even in the places they were able to connect, they couldn’t break the Kaiju’s skin.

Y/n managed to get his arms around the werewolf’s neck, trapping him in a headlock and dragging them both to the floor.

Soap’s tongue lolled out as they wrestled, blue eyes widening as Y/n’s arm came within reach, lunging for the exposed limb.

The s/c skin immediately changed black as it hardened protectively, the werewolves ivory teeth bouncing off uselessly.

Soap broke away, eyes wide as he stared, as if offended, at the slowly fading color of Y/n’s arm.

He huffed, curiosity seemingly taking over whatever fight he had left as he padded closer, sniffing at the skin of the arm.

The kaiju offered the arm to him for a closer look, happy to do this instead of wrestle.

Soap gave the skin a tentative lick, eyeing Y/n’s face before taking the arm back into his mouth and biting down again, softer this time.

Once again, the skin changed color, hardening where the teeth pressed.

He let out a rumble, the brown canine clearly unsure what to make of his new discovery.

The door to the room opened again, the rest of the force making their way in, but Soap hardly looked up from Y/n’s arm.

・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜゜・．・゜・

“Got any threes?”

“Go fish.”

Gaz groaned, drawing a card from the pile, giving Y/n a skeptical look.

“You’re cheating.”

“Who cheats at ‘Go Fish’?”

His wings fluffed, almost hitting Price who was sitting behind him, watching over his shoulder.

Ghost was doing to the same to Y/n, leaning closer to peer over his cards.

“Nope, he’s got a clear conscience.”

Y/n gave a pleased hum, shifting a bit as Soap moved his tail once more.

The wolf was splayed out behind the group, the Kaiju’s black, scaled tail held between his two front paws as he gnawed on the end.

Y/n could hardly feel the pressure, and besides the wolf drool, there was no evidence of anything out of the ordinary when the wolf would pull back to look at his work.

“Got any fours?”

Gaz grumbled, but passed the card to Y/n who added the pair to his ever growing collection.

“Yer getting obliterated.” Price chuckled, dodging a wing slap from Gaz.

“I know that!”

The outburst drew Soap’s attention, the werewolf now keen on being apart of the circle.

Y/n felt his tail drop, looking back only to see the quickly approaching wall of fur and muscle.

Neither Y/n nor Ghost stood a chance as the werewolf came crashing down onto the them, pinning the two under his massive weight.

“Get off, ya mutt.” The wraith hissed, fighting to free atleast one of his limbs, shadows pulling and pushing on the canine to try and will him to move with no such luck.

Y/n groan as the air was forced out of his lungs, dodging playful licks to the face as best as he could.

The cards were scattered everywhere, Price and Gaz blinking in surprise at the turn.

“Does this mean I win?”

Soap whipped his head around, tongue lolling, giving Y/n a chance to catch his breath.

Soap reached out with a massive paw, hooking it around Gaz. Price, who’d been sitting to close, getting dragged in along with him in a mass of tangled wings and thrashing tails.

Price grunted, getting tucked right next to Y/n beneath the mass of fur.

“Come here often?”

Price rolled his eyes playfully at that, swatting the e/c eyed male with his tail.

“More often than not.”

“So this is normal?” Y/n nodded up at Soap, who was now giving Gaz the same treatment he’d give Y/n moments before.

“Eh, something along the lines of it. Never seen this before.” He mused, using his one free arm to gesture to the dog pile they were trapped in.

Y/n puffed before settling back, as if accepting his fate, and Price followed suite, head flopping back against the padded floor.

The dragon felt the scraping of other scales against his tail, finding that his tail had instinctively wrapped itself with the thicker tail of the Kaiju beside him.

He was about to apologize, to move his rouge appendage, when he felt the other’s tail tighten around his in return.

No words were said, they didn’t need to be, Price was already turning a pretty shade of pink.

—————————————————————————

Boom, only took me way to long to get this done haha

Sorry if the ending felt a bit abrupt, I wanted to end on something fluffy but obviously nothing romantic has been established in this story line and I didn’t want to have them acting to out of character.

So I still haven’t decided on a call sign yet, but I have narrowed it down to two choices for you guys to pick from below, so please let me know!

Call Sign?

Monarch

Apex

Voting ended onMar 19, 2025

[chocogi]

Ghost looks up, eyes blank as he studies the massive body of a great, dead, full-blooded dragon.

Chunks of flesh and patches of scale are missing, like the dragon had been mauled and torn apart.

He turns away. Faces his captain– a dragon hybrid, the man he would follow to the ends of the earth– as he crawls out from under the dragon.

There had been a crevice. A cavity the dragon strove to make, keep, and protect.

Ghost's smoke flickers, turns darker. Was the dragon–?

A shrill cry breaks the thick silence, and Ghost's smoke drops.

In Price's arms is a small, weedy little thing. A hatchling, still wet from its egg, cries and writhes against Price's firm, but gentle hold.

The two men watch as the hatchling no bigger than Price's two hands instinctively tries to fight him off, tries to escape him.

Tries to dart back towards the dead dragon.

It cries, shrill and needy and fearful, claws reaching towards a long-dead mother, and Ghost feels his undead heart beat sadly for the first time in a long, long while.

[fate-ed-moments]

Pillows

Angel Masterlist

──────

Angel who really likes soft things… maybe less in the literal sense and more in things he can put under his shoulders to elevate the snout of pressure his wings put on him…

Being his size… which was painfully average with a wing span which was everything above average sucked for his spine. His skeletal system fucking hated him. It wasn’t something uncommon amongst avian hybrids. The body could be under fed or under developed while the wings are a healthy size for what the avian should have reached or vice versa, too small of wings for a healthy body. Angel was one of those suffering with the condition of his wings being large and heavy — and this is without remembering he had multiple pairs as soon as his emotions flared up.

So angel likes soft things he can prop his shoulders up on when taking naps. Be it his folded up jacket during the Heli ride back to base, and disgusting amount pillows that he had on his bed, or the two IKEA sharks he had right next to said pillows — one from Gaz because Angel mentioned once liking so Gaz got it for him and the other from Soap because he heard the exact same thing but stole it instead…

Anything he could shove under his shoulders to stretch them out as he laid on his stomach and contemplated his life chooses he liked. If one was to look at the sharks for longer than a few seconds it would be obvious which one he used for which shoulder because they hwve matching dents in there where the stuffing was always moved.

His favourite move to pull in bed was lying on his tummy, pillows stuffed under both his shoulders, arms and legs out like a star fish and wings spread out completely… sometimes if his whole back was aching he would put a pillow under his hips and turn his body in a way that made him look like a human pretzel. It was perfect for him, and very not perfect for anyone daring to share a bed with him, as any time that happened he would take over the either space of the bed. But no one seemed to mind that much… seeing as it prevented the next morning sobbing and breaking down because his bones hurt so bad he could not breathe in without pain…

One that mistake was made and Ghost managed to bully — subtly shift the eyeball bird in his sleep — Angel into his side of the cuddle pile just to regret it in the morning. Because as soon as Angel woke up at the floors hour of 5.30am to wake up for his morning duties he was met with his bones screaming and trying to grow tiny limbs to crawl out of his body. Sensitive birdie.

Price was woken up by teary eyes angel staring at him, his chest hitching in uneven breath from how much subtle movement hurt. That immediacy woke Price up real quick and real good

“Angel, what’s wrong” his hand cups his face tilting it side to side to see if the man was hurt.

Even the subtle shift of Price moving his head made him let out a muffled whimper “Bones… they hurt”

“Oh Dove” The dragon like man runs his hand though the angel’s hair “Did you sleep wrong?”

The angel gives him a pitiful little nod…

“You fragile little thing” Price’s tone drops to what can be best deceived as a coo… he never coos “We’ll have Vince you give some good pain killers” he rings his thumb under Angel’s eye, wiping away the salty tears staining his cheeks “Wang you stay in my office darling?”

“With pillows?” Angel whispers

“Of course angel”

What a little loser ♡

I’m back to see my family for holidays, probably won’t post every day… unless I do. Who even knows. I have a few drafts gathering dust

Annnyywaayyyy, is Price OCC? Yes. Do I care? Fuck no. He is my father and will treat my angel as I write him to treat him anyone else can suck my dick

But also Angel is me fr. I her to have be in a species position to fall asleep and not wake up with my spine twisted and in need of being wrangled out like a towel

[thegnomelord]

With all these M!reader courting (and practically rizzing up everyone) in their own hybrid way, imagine poor Ghost, he's like toothless, doesn't know how tf to court someone of say, even his own species because he was once human

And with that rant about all the absurd ways of courting, what would he call as his own?

Would he give gifts like Gaz and Price? A piece to remember them by?

I doubt he'd be the physical type like cuddly ol soap who loves to scent,

He's practically a shadow (literally and figuratively) and I feel like the best he can do is stare and slowly blink like a cat (and let's be honest most of the time we don't see his eye) so he might even just act like a stalker and watch from afar, not much of a scent even on him if he's near, even when in the midst of battle

So what can he do then? I feel like going to Price is his best bet and when he tries to scent something like Soap it smells like nothing

I feel like he'd beat himself up on it

(Also fucking love your courting works, I've been eating that shit up its become a hyperfixation)

- ☕️ Anon

I reckon that staring would be less of a wraith thing and more of a Simon thing. Because like, wraiths don't reproduce, they're made not born. So poor Simon just has to try to use the knowledge he had before he died.

CW:NSFW subbot ghost, topdom reader, rough and quick

He likes you.

Just like he's a Riley, just like the sky is blue, his affection for you is one of the few truths of the world he doesn't question. Only problem — he doesn't know how to tell you. You're not human and neither is he, not anymore, but he's woefully unprepared when it comes to you, doesn't know if he's supposed to go about it as a wraith or as a man.

He tries; Simon's phone is full of open tabs containing every piece of information about your species, trying to find grains of truth in the contradicting mess of words. He's memorized how you like your morning coffee down to the last flake of sugar, watching your face carefully when you trudge to the communal kitchen to find your mug steaming and everything laid out near it. He knows your schedule inside out, always a few minutes earlier in the gym when you come in, offering to spot you, his dark eyes roaming over your sweat covered skin. His gaze is always flickering to you, regardless of what you're doing or where you are — watching, guarding, making sure the world doesn't take away that spark like it did with Simon Riley.

But you fail to notice it, him. Or maybe you do but don't care. Don't see him as anything but your teammate, like you should, like he should. God, what is he even doing trying to fucking woo you like some lovestruck Victorian gent. . .

Simon feels like banging his head against the wall.

Maybe then something in his imperceptibly rotten skull will come loose, tumble around in what's left of his brain like a snowball rolling down a hill to form an avalanche, or at least a vestige of a good thought; an idea, something he could use to get out of this rut.

He doesn't go to Price for advice. The old dragon finds him, knows him long enough to figure out when Simon's up to his throat in shite. Price sits down next to him as they watch you and Gaz spar, "Alright, spit it out." Price hums as he lights his cigar.

Simon's lips form a thin line beneath his mask, his fingers gripping the meat of his arm to keep his form stable. His eyes don't stray from you, cataloging every trail of sweat as it rolls down your skin, watching your muscles flex beneath your skin as you throw a punch, making a mental note to show you the mistakes you make in private and—

His shoulders fall, "'m fucked." The words escape him like he'd been punched in the gut.

Price gives him the side eye, looking him up and down. "Doesn't look like you enjoyed it."

"Hah." Simon says in a dry tone. "Always a comedian captain."

Price chuckles, wing spreading out to bump against his shoulder. "Jokes aside," he lets out a small puff of smoke, "You could just tell 'im."

Simon's eyes narrow, "What, not going to suggest I go find some obscure shite ta gift him?" If he could find some concrete information about your species courting habits he would have done so by now, would have happily torn up Heaven and Hell looking for whatever would make you look at him the same way Price looks at Kyle.

"No," Price rolls his eyes, standing up and stretching. "Just go talk to 'im you bloody muppet, going to creep him out if you keep staring like that." He nods his head towards you.

Simon's head is a dark sea of thoughts as he spars with you, tries to make it seem like nothing's wrong but you catch on quick; he's distracted, falling for moves he'd once chastised you for pulling, the edges of his form crackling like the static of a tv, shadowy smoke rising from his blackened arms as he throws a punch that goes wide.

He grunts as you knock him to the ground, your hands on his shoulders to pin him down. "You alright?" You ask, your brows furrowed. "You're not fighting like you usually do."

You can barely see his dark eyes narrow, his body still beneath yours. "I'm fine." He growls out, tries to ignore how the warmth of your body against his makes him feel, nibbling on his nerves like a craving for a drug he can't have.

"Uhuh," You hum, a little confused why he's letting you pin him down so long. "Come on Ghost, you're not getting soft on me are you?" With a huff you attempt to pull away, knowing you couldn't force words out of his mouth.

The sudden lack of your warmth is what forces his body to move before his mind does, shadows shooting out to grab you before congealing back into his arm, pulling you down so his lips can crash on yours.

You grunt into his mouth from the surprise, your eyes wide with surprise. Simon's frozen heart cracks just a bit when you don't respond, only to melt when you finally kiss him back. Your lips feel like heaven against his, Simon's eyes shutting and long tongue slipping into your mouth.

You choke a bit, pulling back to catch your breath, your eyes widening as Simon's long tongue slips back into his mouth. "Fucking hell Simon." You pant,

"Got a whole bag of tricks." Simon says, his throat dry. "I-" He begins to say, thoughts running on how to tell you he wants you but no words coming out, something clogging his throat like molasses.

"Yeah," You grin, the lights overhead casting a halo around your head. "I know." Tipping your head down you catch his lips again, your kiss deep and rough, Simon's teeth digging into your lip until it bleeds, your sharp fangs nipping his tongue, blood mixing in your mouths, arousal starting to course through your veins.

Simon's hands grope your ass, pulling your crotch down on his so your cocks can rub together. Simon greedily swallows your groan, his arms starting to fizzle, shadowy smoke wrapping around you to keep you close as his hand sneaks down to undo your belts, fishing out your cocks.

"Christ," You groan and pant into his mouth, grabbing hold of both of your cocks and rocking your hips into his, pleasure buzzing up your spine.

"Don't bring 'im in here." Simon growls and throws an arm around your neck, demanding your attention with a kiss, longue tongue pushing half way down your throat and hips bucking up to rub his cock against yours. "Just us here."

You moan against his lips and fuck, if that isn't the prettiest sound he's ever heard, his mind clouding over with pleasure and before either one of you knows it Simon's cumming, pulling you down with him, your combined cum painting both of your stomachs.

It takes a few moments for Simon to catch his breath, his pupils blows wide as he stares up at you. "Shite." He breathes out, boneless beneath you.

You grin, "You can say that again." and you lean down to kiss him again.

[tactax-art]

Update: Chapter 10/10!

The final chapter for "The Element of Explosion" is up! I hope you enjoyed the ride, and I'm glad to have managed to finish it. I do hope to make a couple smaller oneshots / scenarios that I'll post in the same series.

Feel free to ask any questions you've got, since there's nothing to spoil anymore :)

Ao3 Link