Ghost using Dearg as a stress ball while chilling in the rec room.
Meanwhile Soap is having one of those days where its no music in the lab and he's grumpy. He has to fix the armor for Gaz's wings, Price's weapons, his own, and a few other things
He just barges into the rec room, snatches the sprite from Ghost's hand and storms back out of the room
Gaz and Price walk in at some time later and Ghost is just sitting there pouting.
They ask what's wrong
Ghost: I lost sprite privileges
But its okay he's able to get more than just the sprite when its late at night and he goes to check on Soap, only to find him asleep on his desk.
He takes him back to Ghost's room so he can sleep curled up around his little hunter.
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MAJOR NSFW warning here!! This is straight filth, please read the tags before proceeding!!!
hey @echoing-locations here's that snippet I promised *wink wink*
Living a solitary life was something Simon hated.
For too long, he spent his years roaming the ruined Earth in a blind state of rage. He tore apart every monstrous creature in his path, teeth sinking deep into the cold flesh of demon kind. He became one of them; fueled by revenge and taking pleasure in their pain. Consuming so much of their blood, it fused with his, twisting his very DNA into something unearthly, something sinister.
He changed, a painful angry existence, one that scared away every living thing.
And despite gaining control back, he knew he would never be accepted again. Spent so long hunting alone, not believing anyone would ever shelter him; regardless of if they knew the truth.
And then he was hired by the 141, welcomed into their ranks with open arms. Praise for his skill, his bloodlust.
And then he met Soap. A thick Scottish accent, hair unkempt most days and bags under his eyes that rivaled his own. Bright blue eyes shining with intelligence like Simon's never seen before, and a mischievous smile to match. He chronically smelled of incense and chemicals, ones that could be seen scattered throughout his laboratory. He fought fiercely, yet seemed to enjoy the thrill of the hunt, with the wild way he would laugh as his devices would erupt with deadly explosions.
Simon wants to keep his distance, to prevent himself from hurting when Soap eventually rejects him because of what he is. But Soap is addictive, so enticing and just barely out of his reach.
It's maddening to be tormented by this temptation without the release of sin.
To make matters for the demon eater worse, one of Soap's fire sprites has taken a liking to him, hardly ever leaving his side except when Soap retires to his quarters for the night. It's how Simon knows the Scot is staying up late in his lab, as the little red sprite bounces around Simon's head, occasionally resting in the crook of his neck.
It's warm, a comforting presence at Simon's side in the darkest moments of his self-imposed solitude.
A kind being, vibrant and full of life: all of Soap's traits that draw Simon in. This Soap will never reject him, though. Its eyes remain filled with unending desire, staring at his twisted appearance in adoration.
It may be projection, Simon thinks, the sprite's warmth reflecting red in his eyes.
But he's going to take what he believes to be his. A dangerous grin slides onto his face as he lifts his mask off, revealing sharp teeth and gray scales. Small spines cover the top of his head, giving his hair a more white than blonde appearance. A forked tongue flicks out of his mouth, lashing over chapped lips. He leans towards the sprite where it rests on the desk in his quarters, the only light in his eyes a red glow. Ghost watches in amazement as the sprite grows bigger, soon sitting on the desk in a humanoid shape, one that vaguely resembles Soap. A husky laugh passes over Ghostās lips as he smiles at the creature, a dangerous thought crossing his mind.
He leans forward lowering his head to the crook of Deargās neck, inhaling deeply through his nose. Ash and smoke invade his senses, and the burn of incense runs through him, setting his hair on end. A deep chuckle reverberates in his chest as a soft hum flows from Dearg, and the demonās head floods with thoughts of nothing but the warmth radiating from the creature sitting before him. He lets out a soft growl as he licks a stripe up the spriteās neck. Itās a surprisingly pleasant feeling, the sprite being smooth and warm, a new experience for Ghost.
And he tastes divine.
He tastes exactly as Ghost dreams Soap tastes: bitter like incense yet sweet like honey. Something addictive, enticing, meant to cure ailments and promote peace.
Something Simon has never deserved, yet something heāll take to feed his own insatiable greed.
He laps at Deargās warm neck again, hands finding their way to his waist. Dearg is soft, pliable under his harsh grasp. He gently digs his claws in, lips and tongue exploring every inch of the fireās neck. Itās a dizzying effect; the creatureās inherent incense burning against the demon eaterās lips and tongue, yet a feeling he craves, takes pleasure in. Addictive, sending Simon into a frenzy as greed and lust flood his senses, driving him further.
Unbeknownst to him, on the opposite end of the base, sat Soap in his lab, suddenly aware of the phantom sensation of lips and tongue on his neck, of hands pressing roughly into his waist.
The first touch, the subtle brush of Simonās crooked nose against Deargās neck, sends a jolt down Soapās spine. The demon hunter had been zoned in on his work, trying to put together a new type of explosive device to be used against the demon hordes. He snaps upright, looking around the near empty lab in confusion. He counts his other fire sprites, all three present with him. Soap is about to brush the strange sensation off, assuming it was a small brush of someone against Dearg. And as much as Soap didnāt want to admit it, deep down he knew the little red sprite is glued to Simonās side, and there could be no other person touching Dearg.
But he canāt brush the second touch aside; the sensation of a tongue running up his neck, warm and hot against him. Soap jumps off his stool, eyes wide as he stares in quiet shock at the worktable in front of him. The other sprites blink up at him, equally in shock. A deep blush descends down his neck and onto his shoulders as the sensation of chapped lips kiss greedily at his throat, tongue mapping every curve. Itās an overwhelming sensation to suddenly be thrown into, and he shakily sits back on his stool as the sensation starts to physically affect him. A quiet whine escapes him as he presses a hand against the growing bugle in his jeans. A phantom sensation of rough hands grasping the fat of his hips sends chills down his spine.
And in his mind, he can see gorgeous brown eyes gazing down at him like a thing to be claimed.
A guttural growl leaves Simon as Deargās more human form wraps his legs around the demon eaterās waist. Inviting, begging.
Fueled by nothing more than lust and a hunger for a man heāll never have, Simon lifts the sprite off the desk and moves over to the bed. He sets the surprisingly heavy creature down gently despite the bruising grip he has on the thingās waist. He nips at the neck again, the hum from the sprite growing only louder. Simon wills himself away from Dearg, peering down at the sprite as it lies sprawled on his shitty little bed. Open, willing, begging.
Ghost quickly sheds the rest of his clothes, eyes never once leaving the sprite. A thick tail, muscular and covered in ashy skin, flicks behind him, a predator ready for the hunt. He lowers himself over Dearg once again, this time between the legs. He mouths at the smooth surface of the fire creature, the warmth burning into him with every swipe of his tongue, every touch of his lips.
Soap momentarily mourns the loss of touch, strangely conflicted in his lab, the loud music he keeps playing being nothing but buzzing in the back of his head. But soon enough, the rough hands are back, this time on his thighs. He gasps as he feels lips and tongue taking in every inch of his inner thighs. The rough hands find their way to the back of his legs, and soon pressure forms on the back of his legs, a clear indication theyāve been thrown over his mystery loverās shoulders.
But it isnāt a mystery. He knows exactly who it is treating Dearg like this. He can practically hear Simonās deep voice whispering filth in his ear, can feel those droopy brown eyes gazing at him like a hungry predator. He knows itās Simon, but at the same time, it feels so strange. The teeth nipping feel a bit too sharp, the nails a bit too long, the tongue a bit too much for it to be Simon. Because he knows Simon, he knows the man and he knows what heās feeling canāt be the other hunter.
A groan forces itself out of Soap as he feels a warm tongue slide over his asshole. Phantom chapped lips scrape against sensitive skin as a firm open kiss is placed over his hole, sucking gently before peppering light kisses up and back to his thighs. Soap takes a shuddering breath as the onslaught pauses for a moment. He leans over his desk, letting the steel cool him off. His hands find their way to his belt, shakily unbuckling it and fumbling with his zipper. A long sigh escapes him as his hard cock springs free, all in time for the phantom sensation of a tongue returns to his skin. It runs along his hips, just above his cock, tickling along his happy trail, and back to his inner thighs.
It's heavenly, feeling so known, yet knowing damn well the person on the other end is only seeing a small glimpse of his soul. Only seeing Dearg, a fire sprite lacking all the details that makes Soap uniquely himself. The scars along his torso, arms, and legs, the various tattoos, the mole on his hip.
The onslaught of tongue and lips on his asshole begins again, and Soap lets out a deep moan at the sensation. He pushes off his desk, glancing around the lab like he were about to be caught committing a crime. But itās his lab, and everyone else has retired to their quarters for the night. He knows this, as Priceās military days still show through a strict routine, and Gaz enjoys solitude at night, even if he doesnāt sleep. Soap bites his lip as he pushes his pants down further, letting them drop to the floor around his ankles. A shaky whimper escapes as he runs a hand over his leaking cock. The tongue curls around his asshole, pausing before disappearing once again.
A guttural growl echoes in Ghostās chest as he feasts on the pliant sprite beneath him, and soon he notices something intriguing.
He pauses, opening his eyes to investigate what he felt with his tongue. An impish grin spreads widely on his face as he licks his lips, carefully placing a finger against Dearg.
āDidnāt think youād āave one oā these.ā His words are slurred from pure ecstasy, a growl now accompanying each syllable. The hum emanating from the sprite increases in intensity as Ghost slowly eases his finger in, and heās greedily welcomed. Pleased, Ghostās chest rumbles with a brief purr, twisting his finger in a teasing manner before pulling back out.
He repeats the process until three of his fingers are buried inside the sprite, adding a finger each time with ease. Pushing inside, teasing, and leaving. Ghost places rough kisses along the crook of Deargās neck, pressing his weight against the sprite as he pushes his fingers inside once again.
āSuch a needy thing, yeah?ā Ghost whispers against the spriteās neck before nipping at it, licking and kissing the spot in apology. He takes his time twisting and pumping his fingers as his mouth continues to explore the spriteās torso. Ghostās tail flicks, thumping loudly against the wall, as Deargās humming starts to seep under Ghostās skin and scales, running along every scar and marking. The demon eater pulls away from the sprite, gently rubbing his hard, leaking cock.
And for a moment, Simon considers stopping right then and there. His pleasure high starts to subside, and a numbness begins to spread throughout his body, starting deep in his chest.
Because the thing laying out on his bed, open, begging, gazing at him with nothing other than adoration is not what he wants. Itās not the one he wants.
It isnāt Soap.
Ghost isnāt even entirely sure what the sprites are, and he frankly never cared to ask. But now, heās afraid to know. Afraid heās overstepped some kind of boundary, afraid heās ruined the only good thing in his long, miserable life.
Heāll never get the one good thing he desires, so he decides to take this moment, to take every little thing he can before he loses it all.
Soap takes a shaky breath as the hand leaves, as the weight against him subsides and heās left sweating and panting. He hadnāt even realized he had made it to the floor, face pressed against the flannel shirt heād thrown down. He manages to take a few deep breaths during the absence of touch despite the creeping feeling that all of this is over.
It isnāt, he quickly learns as the pressure of hands against the back of his thighs appears, pushing against him. He arches his back, knowing he should probably mimic the same position Dearg is in; laid out on his back with his legs up. But Soap finds himself frozen in place, on his knees with his chest pressed against the floor. His hands curl into fists around the flannel as he takes a deep breath in preparation for what comes next.
It starts slow, a building pressure slowly easing its way inside of him.
Soap moans in pleasure, cutting himself off as he bites his bottom lip. He doesnāt think of his mystery loverās name, only thinks of the thick cock being slowly eased into him. Carefully, gently, lovingly.
Soap shudders, hips bucking in search of something, someone, that isnāt there, but he can feel bottoming out. The weight across his body returns, against his stomach and connecting with his chest. Soap whimpers as the phantom hips roll against him, teasing his prostate and drawing him to the brink.
And when he squeezes his eyes shut, he can feel those chapped lips gently touch against his. A soft kiss, different from everything else this night, a silent confession and an unspoken apology for something Soap canāt understand. Hands cup his face as another, firmer kiss graces his lips, not as greedy but rather begging.
And for a second, Soap catches the brief taste of blood and something rotten.
Simon licks his lips after sharing the soft kisses, a moment of vulnerability he rarely shares, even with himself. He focuses on rolling his hips, starting slow and deep, subconsciously wanting this moment to last forever.
But his greed overcomes him, and soon heās picking up the pace into something rough. He sits up to grip the spriteās hips, sharp nails digging into the pliant creature beneath him. A deep rumble rattles in his chest as he continues to snap his hips, chasing a high he believes heāll never get again. Itās a dizzying feeling, the warmth underneath him, the pleasure shooting up his back and covering his skin in goosebumps.
Ghost leans back in as the pressure builds, biting down onto Deargās shoulder. Marking what he has, not what he wants.
Because if it were up to him, heād have the curious demon hunter strapped to his bed, marked with his teeth and claws. Totally willing, begging for Simon to keep going, to make him Simonās.
But he doesnāt have that, and an anger wells in Ghostās chest as he realizes he very well may never have. He stares into the pitch black eyes of the sprite, only to be met with his reflection.
Red eyes, surrounded by black and grey scales. Horns peeking out through his white hair, and sharp teeth exposed by the scowl on his face.
A monster, a being of pure evil; exactly the thing Soap has dedicated his life to eradicate from this world.
He will never love something as disgusting and violent as Ghost.
Ghost lets out an otherworldly wail as he comes hard, body shuddering as he struggles to keep his pace. He gasps for breath, slowing down as his senses return to him. Ghost sighs as he pulls out, and he silently thanks the sprite for remaining in place. He steps away from his bed, running a hand over his face as he stares at what heās just done.
Used a spirit of an unknown kind to get himself off.
Bile rises in his throat as Dearg suddenly returns to his normal size and shoots out of the room from under the door. A deep fear that the spirit is going to tattle on him to the very object of his affection settles deep in Ghostās chest, and in an effort to ignore all of those thoughts, he rips the soiled sheets off his bed and steps into the bathroom for a shower.
Soap gathers himself and his clothes very quickly, head still spinning and legs shaking from how hard he came. The clean up was quick, and not as precise as he would normally be, but he needed to get out of his lab and somewhere far more private. He ignores Dearg as the sprite returns to him, humming contently. Soap needs his journal and time to think over the events of tonight.
So many questions are flashing through his mind, but one stands out above the rest. He thinks back on the sharp nails he felt, the strange tongue that had to be split, the strong bite that if it had been him would have drawn blood.
If this really was Ghost, why did he feel so⦠wrong?
Iāve been thinking of them as extensions of Soap himself that are tied to his wellbeing. If they get hurt or snuffed out does he feel it? Does something happen? Or are they just representations of his magic???
Also, how do angels work? I know you said that Gaz is half angel so how did that happen?? Was he born that way or was he human then was blessed or something??
Soap and the Sprites
Soap is from a very niche line of sorcerers that are referred to as "the in tune". They're very connected to their magic and the energy around them. This is based on their practices, which are seen as dark magic in certain circles. Its not, there's just a lot of runes involved so it seems suspicious. The original ones had tattooed runes along their ribcage that allowed them to channel their magic into physical manifestations: aka the sprites. The side effects are the magic of an individual is unique to them, and the physical manifestations will draw characteristics and such from the sorcerer. This means anything the sprites feel, their sorcerer does. The sprites can't be snuffed out by themselves, the only way is to damage the runes. But they can still get tossed around and smacked and it certainly doesn't feel good for the sorcerer.
The tattooed runes started proving risky in the sense they were easily damaged. Which would cause the sprites to be snuffed out. Snuffing them out isn't death for the sorcerer, but it puts their ability to use their magic at risk. They can lose the connection to their magic energy and eventually become powerless. The risk of channeling magic this way.
Which is why Soap's lineage eventually started a rather.... intense tradition with the runes and channeling magic. If one of them showed progress beyond their peers in magic, they were taught the meditations and such to help them learn how to feel and focus on their magic and its energy. Eventually, they could be given their runes: by undergoing a surgery where the runes were literally etched into their ribs.
Yeah, so now picture Soap with a big scar on each side where his skin would have been cut open and held aside to carve the runes.
He will sometimes lay down outside and meditate. His breathing will automatically slow during this so he looks dead, but the sprites will fuse with him during this, so as long as his chest is glowing, he's fine.
The magic benefits of doing this is worth it, in Soapās opinion. While Price is also a sorcerer, he relies on his weapons to help him use magic without needing incantations or anything. Soap doesn't need weapons or incantations now that he's an "in tune" sorcerer. If they both were to cast say a lightning bolt, Price's would be a simple strike that affects maybe 3 smaller demons. Soap's is quicker, bigger, louder, and more destructive, capable of killing a dozen or more smaller demons.
Gaz and Angels
So i kind of read this and was just like "š§š»āāļø I honestly have no clue"
BUT
I think I got something
Part of the reason the war against demons has lasted so long is because they don't technically die. (At least this is my canon for this au, i don't think it's DOOM accurate) They just manifest again in hell before coming back through the portals.
Well, angels, also referred to as The Divine, are indeed helping. They have been locked in constant battle with the biggest and most powerful demons since the invasion first began. They are pure light, very Biblically accurate looking things. Sometimes, if they successfully "kill" their opponents close together, there is a brief period before they manifest again that the Angel can intervene for humanity.
Gaz was 12 when his hometown's main street broke open as a portal to hell formed. He eventually became the sole survivor, taking the mantle of the defeated hunter by using his blessed sword to fight off the demons. At this point for his own survival.
Then he fell into the pit, and was caught by something warm and that instantly healed all his wounds, renewed his energy. Something made of light and gold, massive wings and unblinking eyes.
The Divine touched their halo to his back, having seen his valor and strength, and blessing him to continue to fight the righteous battle for humanity. Gaz's blessing included his halo, abilities to manipulate holy light, flaming sword, indestructible shield, and of course his wings (so that he may never fall again)
Sometimes Gaz goes back to that place where it happened. Sometimes he gets lucky and The Divine that saved him is in a rest period between fights. During those times, they touch their halos together and just... exist in each other's presence. Gaz always cries, even if he doesn't fully understand why.
as a person who loves AND I MEAN LOVES (i canāt name how many demon ocs i have) i need to hear more whatever you got, take it as swapping ideas of ideas like what i gave you for buck ghost! (which will actually start drawing designs for soon if you want to give any ideas :3)
Am I answering this instead of studying for my biology exam in like 2 hours? Yes
Am I absolutely already cooked for this exam? Also yes
Am I haunted by visions of Ghost messing with Soap by constantly teasing the sprites, especially Dearg, the red one? YES!!! Ghost, early on in his obsession with Soap, not truly knowing everything about the sprites, just knowing that they're like little mini Soap's. He doesn't know Soap can feel everything they do, so Ghost making the red sprite the center of his attention, focusing all his thoughts and feelings about Soap onto the little creature. I need to write out the actual scene I'm thinking of, its so hot
Also thinking about demon eater Ghost getting really injured on a hunt before they know about him being a demon eater. Soap panicking because holy shit he's already fallen for this guy, and to Soap, he's just a man with a big ass hammer. Gaz realizing Soap's panic and taking off to save Ghost.
They bring him back to the base, Gaz's healing is good but he can't seem to impact any of Ghost's wounds. Maybe because he's a demon eater, maybe because he got attacked by a special demon and its venom prevents Gaz's angelic healing.
Soap with a healing cradle in his lab, sitting by Ghost as he heals, trying to find things to keep himself occupied. The cradle ends up telling Soap that Ghost isn't human, but there isn't anything in the database that matches him. Soap keeping that to himself because he knows how Price and Gaz would feel.
As for a buck!Ghost design: I'm thinking he's actually brighter colors. I can't get a blonde Ghost out of my head. One side of his rack is shorter than the other due to having been broken off at one point and they just never grew back properly.
Idk if youāve already got ideas for the main antagonist/antagonists, but I thought Iād share my silly idea. Now these randomly popped into my head so idk how it would exactly fit into the story but itās good to throw out ideas right?
Ok so: villains!! Iām just gonna go off the mw antagonis.
1.) Shepherd.
Humans can become Demons, thatās been confirmed. Iām thinking they can become Demons in a few certain ways. First: demon eater, which we already know. Second: dying and being sent to hell. Now here is where I bring up Shepherd. He was killed years back by Price after Shepherd betrayed him and sold him out to demon apologists. In hell he quickly rose the ranks due to his knowledge in human military tactics, which causes the untimely demise of earths military leading to the rise of individual demon hunter groups, and causes Shepherd to have a nice cushy deal in Hell as a general there.ļæ¼
2. Graves
Graves and shadow company is a rival demon hunter group. I havenāt really thought this one through as much but I can see the potential. Maybe if itās combined with the shepherd storyline and grave is selling information to him in order to keep shepherd in power and for shadow company to be the only āreliableā demon hunter group.
3.) Makarov
Makarov as like THE demon. Heās second only to the king or something and thinks the souls in hell deserve heaven and earth as much as any mortal or angel do. Nevermind the fact most of hells inhabitants are the scum of nature and are in hell for a reason. I think he used to be human like Shepherd and he was an Ultranationalist and committed so many war crimes and atrocities, until he was eventually put down by Soaps grandfather Captain MacTavish (I like the idea of 09 soap being soaps dad or granddad. Itās just an interesting idea to me) and his team. So he has an extra chip on his shoulder for the 141.
I donāt know of this is anything but I just wanted to yap :))
Absolutely banger ideas and I am running with the Makarov one
Better yet if he was taken out by Ghost when he was still human with the help of Captain MacTavish. Ghost doesn't realize the relation until they encounter Demon!Makarov for the first time, and he remarks how much Soap looks like his grandfather.
I also had this idea of a demon that can shapeshift to mimic people. The 141 encounters some strange things (Makarov moving demons around in more strategic ways, something that hasn't been seen before) and it's after the two or three times they've seen the Demon Eater (Ghost unbeknownst to them)
Price says he knows someone that can give them some information/help: MacMillan
MacMillan retired from demon hunting after a really bad injury, so he hid himself away in a very secure bunker. Price takes them all with him, and when inside, MacMillan says Ghost needs to sit in a specific spot. Ghost catches onto it being a chair with sigils burned into the back and underneath, but he sits anyway.
MacMillan goes on a crazy rant/story about Simon Riley's origins leading up to his becoming a Demon Eater. But the whole time Price is slowly realizing that this isn't MacMillan, so he completely ignores the whole "One of my teammates has a diet consisting primarily of demons and he isn't fully human now because of that" so he can focus more on the "my mentor and man who was a better father than my actual father is not actually him, he's a demon. Which means the actual MacMillan is dead and I have to accept that even though I spent so long thinking he was still alive."
Big fight happens, turns out it was also a trap by Makarov. Obviously they get out this time and on the way to the base, Price stops the car to address the whole Demon Eater thing
Soap and Gaz are on the same page of "we kind of figured he wasn't fully human" but for completely different reasons. Soap's being the things he felt in my little snippet and Gaz's being the half angel in him always feeling a bit on edge around Ghost
They just kind of accept he's truly on their side after he tells the story from his perspective, and he gets to remove his mask. Soap realizes he's definitely a monster fucker because holy handsome man
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Does it count as cumming untouched if the person in question has physical manifestations of their soul and someone is fucking one of the physical manifestations? And the person who "cums untouched" can feel everything that happens to the physical manifestations of their soul?