#wolf john soap mactavish

[charliemwrites]

Finished!

You find a wolf (dog?) in the woods one day - or more accurately, he finds you. He's the perfect pup... even if he is a little weird.

Content: Shapeshifter AU, Mild Injury, Voyeurism, Dub-Con/Non-Con

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

1fur1 (not canon): (No content warning)

Ghost

Konig pt. 1; konig pt. 2

Birthday oneshot

Price pt. 1 ; Price pt. 2

Gaz

[chamomiletealeaf]

Wolf hybrid! Johnny who fucks you in doggy in his hybrid form, shoving your face down into the dirt in the woods behind your house, his massive human/wolf body holding you down and keeping you in place for him as he grunts and growls in your ear 😮‍💨😵‍💫🥴

[reds-skull]

Soap "dog-coded" MacTavish my beloved

(This took 5 weeks help)

[bluegiragi]

everything (part 1)

full version on patreon on bluesky

[feralgoblinqueen]

I’m not the first to write something like this but here’s my spin on shifter!141.

*****

They had spent too long in their bestial forms. Time feels different when the wolf takes over, easier to lose track of and even harder to remember their human lives. By the time one of them remembers the house in the woods and its many acres that still needs a final payment under a fake name it’s too late.

They look on from the tree line, taking note of the changes made by the new owner. A budding flower garden in front of the house, well kept and just starting to show its spring colors. Around back a large vegetable patch was still green, nothing yet ready to harvest. The exterior had a fresh coat of paint and small repairs had been made. A single faded blue truck rumbled up the long and winding driveway. That’s when they first laid eyes upon you.

—————

“Abandoned, Selling As Is” was what the advertisement had read. No one else had wanted the plot of land hours away from civilization. For you, though, it was perfect. Somewhere to start over, to be alone and relearn who you are.

The rooms still held the previous owner’s belongings. Everything had been left untouched as if they just vanished one day. All men, you assumed, just from the sparse decor and the clothes left behind. Military, maybe, from how the beds were made with their sheets tucked into hospital corners. Paranoid loners, possibly even doomsday preppers, was another guess you made after discovering a gun safe hidden behind a false wall under the stairs.

It was almost a game, once a day trying a hand full of combinations to see if any worked. Something mindless to fill an unoccupied moment of time. That’s when you really started going through the papers and books left behind. Looking for any clues at what the code might be. A notepad left on the small hallway table is where you scribbled down all the combinations that hadn’t worked, in a meager attempt to not repeat yourself. A small mystery to add a little life to your loneliness.

At night is when things really come to life this far out into the wilderness. In the early days of owning the property, before you were able to get the satellite internet set up, you’d spend the evenings watching and listening on the back porch. Deer were the most common, using the wide open expanse of a backyard as a place to graze in the evenings. Owls silently swooping down on field mice before retreating to the trees once more. Coyotes, crickets, and night birds made a symphony of nature most nights.

The most exciting were the wolves. You could always hear them howling in the distance, calling to one another. They weren’t like the coyotes that cackled over one another in attempt to sound larger or more numerous than they actually were. These were direct calls and responses. Their vocalizations sounding almost melancholy, as if they were yearning for something that seemed just out of reach.

It was a quiet night when you finally decided to respond to their calls. The evening had been spent making supply lists for your trek into the nearest town in the morning. A large cooler had been thrown into the bed of your truck to store items intended for the refrigerator and deep freezer.

You sat on the tailgate, listening to the night song that seemed to encapsulate the peaceful valley you now owned. A celebratory drink held in one hand and a small, proud smile graces your lips. Your house was starting to feel like a real home and that was definitely worth celebrating.

The wolves that you had grown fond of, yet had never seen, were starting up. Your favorite night song. A melody that you could listen to for hours. One you had listened to for hours.

Four. You could make out four distinct calls at this point. Two were more vocal than others, their tones more playful. One was definitely the pack leader. His call the first and last each night, like a command or an order. And one was rarely heard, usually only short responses and never as loud as the others. But the valley always carried their calls to you, teaching you their voices. They were faceless friends in your solitude.

So you call out into the night. The long howl a poor imitation of theirs, straining your vocal cords.

The night grows still. All goes quiet. As the silence passes for a beat, then another, your smile slowly falters and fades. A pang of disappointment and a small bubble of guilt at interrupting their conversation.

All animals, even fierce predators, could be skittish. You worried that your call had scared them off, ruining your chances of ever spotting them. With a hop you jump off the tailgate, slamming it shut in frustration. Heavy feet stomping all the way onto the porch and inside. You could only hope they hadn’t heard your foolishness and that something else has quieted them.

The night remains silent as you crawl into bed. The night song ending early and sewing sadness into your dreams.

But they had heard you.

Your distinctly human howling calling to a dormant part of their minds. They remembered themselves. They remembered their life in the valley. They remembered the house where their human lives were lived.

And they were coming home.

[prettypinkguns]

HOARFROST. ‖ poly!141 x reader

[wolf shifter au]

✎ cw: Wolf Pack, Wolf Instincts, Werewolves Turn Into Actual Wolves (monster sized wolves), Pack Hierarchy, Pack Bonding, Werewolf Courting, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Mating Bites, Mating Bond, Scent Marking, Marking, No Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Polyamorous Task Force 141 (Call of Duty), Military Inaccuracies, Military Backstory, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Possessive Behavior, Protectiveness, Knotting, Eventual Smut

AO3

Named in a will of estranged grandparents that you never met, you bequeathed a generous inheritance and a property out in Alaska; in a small town called Coalition. With city life slowly whittling away at you, you decided to take time off of work, flying out to Alaska. Partly to prepare the property to be sold before winter and to enjoy the wilderness in the meantime. There you meet four mysterious ‘bachelors’ of the town who not only took interest in you, but you in them. But you soon realize something wasn’t quite right about those men or the pack of wolves, with their strangely intelligent eyes, that frequented the woods surrounding your property. Curious, you're determined to get to the bottom of it. But as the saying famously went… curiosity kills the cat.

[1]

Sometimes, you wished life was simple. 

Where the world was nothing but a simple place with simple people who lived nothing but simple lives. Where there were no complexities, no complications, no corruption nor any suffering. A symbiosis, a balance. Between individualism and culture, nature and civilization, necessities and consumerism. Yet, life was anything but simple. And to long for such simplicity was nothing but wishful thinking. 

Like many, you felt crushed by the hustle and bustle of modern life. From which everything was autonomous, automatic. Where an individual’s entire life revolved around their jobs and whose personhood was defined by market value. To capitalism, a person was nothing but a commodity to be exploited and to maximize profits. Passion was snuffed out like a flame or squeezed and squeezed until it was nothing but rind. In which pastimes and hobbies were too much effort to keep; a common sacrifice. Just another stepping stone on a long career path, just another rung on the corporate ladder. Now only an emptiness remained from the smothering of both soul and spirit. Until you were nothing but a husk, an empty shell of a person. 

But such was life. And who were you to want simplicity?

But unlike you and a majority of the population, there were outliers. Others that weren't partaken with conformity or willing to settle for such a thing known as ‘normality’. Mostly nut jobs, based on personal assumptions. Or even religious cultists and doomsday preppers. Or people too consumed with conspiracy theories and antigovernmental beliefs. The black sheep of the family. But among it all, you didn’t know where your grandparents aligned. Didn’t know if they were a little bit of the above or none at all. They were never heavily involved in your childhood or your teenage years. You had no memories of them. Only knew what was whispered between the adults. Questions brushed off when you got too curious for your own good. Denial when you happened to remember something small and stray. A fleeting memory, that was like sand grains in your palm. Rendered as nothing but a child’s wild imaginations or vivid dreams.

Or even the feign of ignorance when you found a Purple Heart behind a delve of old photographs. All collecting dust in an old shoebox when you were helping your parents go through old boxes for a spontaneous spring cleaning. You remembered your parents’ faces when you showed them the shoebox. Purple Heart in your palm, black-and-white photographs rifled through by your curiosity. They had a look of complete fear; wide-eyed, color drained from their faces and frozen in place. Before the shoebox was yanked from your hands and you were sent away to your room, excused from helping out. 

That was the last time you saw the shoebox. 

You remembered one time when you tried to sneak into their bedroom to find it, but to no avail. But that fear on your parents’ faces was unforgettable. As were the old monochrome photographs of blurry faces, of strangers. Just like the weight of the Purple Heart in your hand and the stain of grime and dust on your fingertips. Sometimes you wondered about the significance of it. Wondered why your parents acted the way they did that day. They never did answer your questions about it, told you they didn't know what you were talking about when you would bring it up.

And soon, just like many things in your life, it became nothing but an odd occurrence in your past. Something you tossed around your head before shrugging your shoulders and worrying about other things. But one thing stood out to you, one thing was certain as time passed. Those strangers in the photographs weren’t just some random faces in a crowd. They were your grandparents. Those unspoken, estranged family members scratched out in the familial records. And even more interesting, they were former military. 

Now, you were sitting in your break room. Mentally exhausted, physically tired. Ready to go home and snuggle underneath your bed covers, scrolling through your phone until bedtime. It had been a long and draining work week. More than you had thought possible. But it wasn’t unusual. The holidays were coming up which only meant more strenuous work and more tedious responsibilities -– but such was life was it not? Luckily, you were the only person in the break room. Able to take a breather and actually enjoy your break by yourself. Your social battery was completely depleted, and you were in no mood to socialize, let alone tolerate another presence in the same vicinity as you. 

Quietly brewing in your own thoughts, you thumbed against a piece of paper in your hand. One that had been just another envelope lost in your endless pile of mail on your side table: bills, notices, magazines, and flyers. You had stumbled upon it a few days ago when finally getting the motivation to sort through the accumulating pile. Inscription of a legal notice was across the front that made your heart drop into your chest, fingers shaking as you carefully tore the seal to fish out what was inside. A will, and all assets and inheritance named to you. From your supposed grandparents. The call that followed was interesting… for lack of a better word. You were the sole inheritor, no one else in your family was named. But none of your family had contested it. Not even your parents. Upon their death, your grandparents’ bodies were already taken care of; cremated and buried in a private graveyard in their hometown.   

You had taken note of the information given to you and made arrangements for your appointment with an attorney in regards to the probate. You had gone early yesterday morning, all legalities and protocols were explained to you. And in the following afternoon, with a few signatures, all assets and inheritance were now legally yours. Namely, and more intriguingly, a property out in Alaska was now under your name. Now, you eyed the document again. Still in disbelief. It all felt too good to be true. As if any second, you would wake up from a dream to a snoozed alarm and indentations on your skin from your sheets. Your eyes went to your blaring watch, realizing that your break was over. You folded the document, tucking it away in your pocket. Letting out a deep sigh, you forced yourself on your feet. It was going to be a long day…

Back at home, you collapsed on your couch. Bag, keys, and all. Too tired to walk to your bedroom. Too tired to even think. But underneath it all, there was relief as well. Not only from finally being at home after such a long and grueling day. But also from your time-off being approved. Which was surprising given such a short notice and the upcoming holiday season. You remembered the nervousness. The shock you felt when you got that approval email. Things were going too well for your liking. But there was no time to question it or mull over it. You supposed ‘urgent family emergency’ had been sufficient enough. Which was accurate, but you knew it would serve partly as much needed time away from life.

You didn’t know how long you stayed there lounging on your couch. But eventually, like you had in the break room, you forced yourself up on your feet to get ready for bed. You had another long work week ahead of you. All you needed to do was to tough it out and get through it. Then it was packing up and heading to Alaska to see that estate for yourself. Do some upkeep and maintenance if necessary, take time-off as you did so, and then simply sell it — land and all. Then it would be a piece of cake from there. A straightforward plan; a solid course of action. 

Now all you needed to do was book that flight.

------------------------------------------------

From above, the town of Fairbanks was a spectacle among all the wilderness. And, after hours of flying, it was also a sight for sore eyes. Fairbanks was much more than what you expected for a city out in the Alaskan frontier. With high-rise buildings, arching bridges, highways, downtown areas, residentials and beautiful wilderness just beyond. A beautiful city just waiting to be explored and experienced. But it was not your destination nor was there any time to tour it. You had another flight to catch immediately after yours landed. The property that was left to you was out further, in the outskirts of Fairbanks. In a small town; more rural, more remote. Driving there was feasible. The main highway went near enough to the small town, but it did not go thoroughly. Renting out a car and driving there was an option, but not something you wanted to do after such a long flight. The next best option you found was to take another plane there. And luckily, the town had an airstrip.  

With all your luggage behind you, you went to find the right terminal gate and the pilot that would take you there. The terminal was surprisingly busy. But expected given the upcoming season and it being in such a huge city. Though it wasn’t the worst, not too overcrowded or hectic, as it wasn’t a hindrance to walk around. You eventually found the terminal gate on the other side of the terminal, opposite to where your plane landed. The sitting area for the terminal gate was completely empty, save for a couple workers behind a tall desk. The sight of it made you double check that you were in the right area. But soon after checking, you sat down and waited for the boarding call. Which didn’t take long to be announced. 

You walked forward with your luggage. Confused when the workers didn’t take it to be packed away onto the plane. Instead you were escorted onto the tarmac and towards a noticeably small conventional aircraft ahead of you. There was a person near the wing of the plane in the distance. Rendered into a blurred figure in the sun, no matter how hard you squinted to make out any noticeable features. But as you grew nearer, the clearer the figure became; as did the plane. A man stood against an old Beechcraft. Wiping along the wing tips so affectionately that it made you feel that you were stumbling into a private moment. But as you approached, his head lifted up and the man’s focus waned. Attention now on you. 

His face immediately lit up.

The man gave both of the workers a nod and a grin. Immediately, your ears perked up at the rhythmic lilt of a Russian accent as the man introduced himself as Nikolai. He took your luggage from the workers and you, stacking it away into the underside compartment of the Beechcraft. You couldn’t help but notice how casually the man was dressed for a pilot. Clad in jeans, a plain T-shirt, a brown leather jacket and boots. Finger length raven hair was slicked back neatly, curling naturally at the bottom of his neck  and emphasized his widow’s peak. A Cuban gold link chain hung around his neck. Apprehension prickled down your spine, suddenly unsure. More so as the workers left you alone with your supposed pilot. You eyed the man as he stacked another one of your suitcases inside the belly of the aircraft. 

“So you’re a pilot… sir ?” You asked. Trying to sound polite, conversationalist even, only for the skepticism to peek through and waver your voice. But if your pilot was bothered by it, you couldn’t tell. He only gave you a warm smile.

“Call me Nik, please.” He said, stuffing your duffel bag away. “And yes. Your pilot to be exact.” 

 “Well… Nik . How long have you been a pilot for?” 

“Nearly two decades.” With your luggage and bags all put away safely, Nikolai shut the underside compartment closed with an audible click. “But don’t worry. You’re in good hands.” He patted the side of the plane. “Katyushka and I will get you there safely.” 

You blinked at him. “ Katyushka.. ?”

The edges of Nikolai’s lips twitched as his smile widened. Obviously finding your butchering of the Russian word funny.

“Yes.” He leaned against the Beechcraft. “Well, to me. But to strangers, it’s Ekaterina .” The drawl of his accent made it sound so sensuous that you couldn’t help but shift your weight on your heels. “Built her from the ground up years ago. She’ll take you where you need to go, no problem.” He affirmed that notion with a gentle patting on the metal body again.

“Ok.” You nodded, your concerns not diminished in the slightest.

“It’ll be smooth sailing, I promise.” Nik opened the passenger side door. Offering his hand out to you as you reluctantly stepped forward and into the aircraft. Then took his seat in the pilot seat afterwards. 

Curious, your eyes wandered around the flight deck. At the various knobs, levers, buttons, and dials. Blinking displays and flashing lights that grabbed your attention, wondering what they all were for. Nikolai grabbed the aviator headset from its perch, placing it on top of his head. Then looked towards you, gaze meeting your inquisitive one as he tapped against the earmuff. 

“Headset – put it on.”

You nodded, looking around near your seat aimlessly before a hand darted in your vision, grabbing the other headset next to the side of your seat. Though Nik’s smile remained, you grabbed them sheepishly. Putting them on then fastened your seatbelt. Nikolai flicked a few switches and pressed more buttons before the Beechcraft sounded to life. The engine revved as the propeller began to spin faster and faster. Until the twisted nose blade was but a blur. 

“She purrs like a dream.” The static voice of Nik surprised you as it hummed through the intercom. “Hope you’re not afraid of heights or get motion sick. Ran out of emesis bags months ago.”

You swallowed, putting on a neutral expression. “I’ll be fine. Already came this far, didn’t I?” 

You didn’t know if you were trying to convince him or yourself but either way Nikolai moved the plane down an unoccupied part of the airstrip. Away from the other larger commercial planes, one of which you had arrived on. He stopped just at the end of the tarmac where it ended at the tree line. Slowly and steadily, the Beechcraft went along the airstrip before Nikolai increased the throttle, making the Beechcraft pick up more speed. Until the wheels hovered above and the aircraft soared. The worst part of the plane ride came and went. The Beechcraft cruised at a comfortable altitude. But your nails were dug into the leather of your seat still and you released the lungful of air you repressed. The Russian man found it amusing it seemed by the way his grin only widened. Which made you force yourself to ease your grip on the seat and relax. 

There was a silence between you both, more comfortable than awkward which you appreciated after such a long day of traveling. You settled back into your seat, arms across your chest as you leaned to your right. Stared out of your passenger window to the sight beyond. All you saw was a clear blue sky and the tufts of clouds floating on by, whipped around by wind. Before you knew it, you were starting to get drowsy. Your aviation headset blocked out the sound of the plane and the propeller, only emitting white noise from an open radio line. You decided to lay down your head for a while, letting your eyelids flutter close as you snuggled against the side of the plane’s interior and into the leather seat. But soon just resting your head turned into you dozing off the rest of the way there.

A sudden turbulence made you bolt you awake, panicked as your stomach dropped. Hands gripped around the armrests as the plane shook as it began to descend. Your wide eyes darted to your left, catching the Russian pilot’s apologetic smile.

“Sorry,” Nik said over the headset, “Didn’t mean to scare you awake.”

You were groggy, still rubbing the sleep away from your eyes. Not lucid enough to consciously hide the scowl on your face. You relaxed a little, arms across your chest as you peered through your window. You weren’t surrounded by an endless sky anymore, having decreased in altitude. Below you was the Alaskan frontier in all its glory — alpine mountains, wide lakes and winding rivers, overgrown grasslands, open fields and thick woodlands.

You couldn’t help but admire the beautiful view, disregarding all that second guessing that occupied your headspace since your first flight. For that moment, all worry and regret was gone, and you felt at peace. Enjoyed all the scenery for a while, but it wasn't long before you were near your destination. From above, the small town of Coalition was a strange sight in the surrounding frontier. A smidge of civilization in all that untamed and untapped Alaskan wilderness. 

"Hold on."

The fuzzy words of your pilot came through the aviation headset that you both wore. 

On cue, Nikolai eased the Beechcraft lower and the cabin of it shook as it began to descend downwards, making you clutch against the armrests. Your pilot aimed towards the landing strip on the outskirts of the town where its fetal airport, paling in comparison to a commercial terminal, settled in a manmade open field. When the plane's wheels safely kissed the ground, you let out a rush of air. Relaxing into your seat as Nikolai slowed the acceleration until the aircraft began to lose its speed and rolled off into a slow and easy cruise.

He drove it towards an overarching steel hangar, coming to a stop just at the threshold. When the engines were cut off, you were quick to pull your aviation headset off and hop out. Stretching away the ache in your limbs and breathing in deeply for once as crisp air filled your chest for once rather than city smog. You took in the sight of the trees in the distance. Already their canopies were just beginning to lose their green pigmentation, right on the cusp of turning into shimmering gold and auburn. 

Fall was imminent. Thereafter, winter. Ideally, the land you inherited would be sold before then with a bit of luck on your side. But for now, you would enjoy your time off in such beautiful surroundings. 

“See. Told you it would be smooth sailing.” Nik smiled with a lean against the right wing of the plane.

“What about when you scared me awake? What was smooth about that?” You asked.

But he only shrugged. “Can’t tame the wind.”

Nikolai began to pull your luggage out of the holding compartment – one by one. Quicker he was retrieving it out than he was when trying to stack them inside like Tetris pieces. When you grabbed all your luggage, you and Nik exchanged your farewells before sauntering off and tended to the plane. His ‘ Katyushka’ , whatever that meant. But it was only when you grabbed all your luggage, struggling to carry it all as you walked, when you realized how far the town was from the airstrip. And how you didn’t have a designated ride there. You stood there for a moment, contemplating on what to do next. With such a small town, you doubted there were any taxis or any sort of paid ride shares. It seemed your predicament wasn’t as internal as it seemed when Nikolai soon approached you, concern etched on his smiling face.

“Are you waiting for someone?” 

“Not really.” You said, trying to sound unbothered. “I was just going to walk.”

“All the way to town?!” Nikolai eyed all your bags. 

You couldn’t help but feel bashful, feeling a need to dissuade and not draw attention to yourself and your little predicament. “Yeah. I need to stretch my legs anyway after the back-to-back flights.”

“It’s a two mile walk into town.”

You nodded, nonchalant about it. But internally you were screaming. “That’s not too bad.”

By the look on his face he doubted your words. “Do you have anyone you can call to pick you up?”

“No.”

He was quiet for a long moment. Before saying, “Wait here.”

You watched as Nikolai jogged towards the hanger then went around the side of it. Less than a minute later, a loud engine roared to life. Revving in the distance before a vintage four door sedan appeared from behind the hangar. And around the landing strip, following a gravel road along the perimeter. The car stopped at a junction just off the runway, where the gravel merged into a dirt road and then stopped in front of you. Nikolai emerged from the driver’s side, trunk already popped open as he went for your bags.

“It’s ok, Nik, really. I don’t mind walking. It’s not that far.”

But he only shook his head at you. “It’s no problem to me.”

“But the road leads straight to the town, right? I think I can manage it fine.” 

“With all these bags? You won’t make it there by sunset.” Nik said right as he stuffed one of your duffle bags into his trunk. Ignoring your pointed stare. “Besides, we got some wolf sightings recently. Not good to let you wander about.” 

You widened your eyes at him. Your skin began to prickle. “Wolves? Aren’t they usually too scared to be so close to people?”

“Usually, yes. But this pack’s the bold type. They like to sometimes wander the outskirts of town, too close for people’s liking. But for the most part, they mainly stick to the forest.” Nik huffed as he picked up one of your heaviest suitcase. “Which is why I don’t want to let you walk all the way to town. If you get lost in the trees and end up as their dinner, I don’t want to have that on my conscience.”

You let out a sigh, an almost laugh that made you ease up. You watched him a moment before deciding to help Nikolai put away your luggage in his car. Despite his insistence for you to let him do it. 

“Is it a big pack?" You asked, putting your bag into his backseat. Mostly for conversation but also to feed your curiosity. 

Nikolai loaded the last suitcase and closed the trunk with a loud click. Then shook his head. “It's only a few of them.”

You hummed in interest. Went around the car and opened the passenger side door. You settled yourself in the leather seat, putting on your seatbelt before the car went driving down the road. A silence settled between you and Nikolai once more, much like the one during the flight here. You occupied yourself by leaning on the car door armrest, looking out the window to the surrounding trees. But as the road turned uneven and rough, the car rattled over holes and bumps. What was a nice cruise down turned to slow and steady driving as Nik carefully tried not to scratch the paint or get his car stuck or scraped. And the lowered suspension from the added weight of  all your luggage didn’t help the effort of getting over potholes and elevated ground. 

You sat back in your seat, arms across your chest. But nonetheless grateful for not walking, experiencing just how bad the desolate road had become. Soon Nikolai was on a paved road again, leading into civilization. The town of Coalition was about what you expected for a small, rural town in the middle of nowhere. Small facilities here and there, the necessities needed to sustain and maintain a population. You noted some of them as the car drove by: a small general store, a local grocery store, a doctor’s clinic, a post office, a community center and a gas station. And all in a centralized area. 

You guided Nikolai towards where the property was, having written the directions just in case. Nikolai knew the roads by heart and nodded along, already knowing where to go. The property was on the outskirts of the town, more situated within the forest. But it wasn’t uncommon, there were other properties that did the same. It was late afternoon, by the time the vintage sedan rolled up to the property, following an off road dirt roadway leading between a dense thicket. Soon you saw a cabin, unassuming in the shadow of the pines and evergreens and all by its lonesome in a clearing in the forest. It stood on a few acres of sundered land – your land – that endured against the fickleness of nature. Slowly and steadily, the forest encroached – brush, young tree saplings and briar that creeped into the clearing and towards the cabin. 

Nik stopped just short of the gravel driveway where a tree had fallen and blocked the path. Roots uprooted, sticking out of the end of the trunk. It was a young tree, properly too weak to hold its canopy during the winter. The hole where it grew from was already covered up. And the tree was already cut up and sectioned in logs by a chainsaw, its branches rotting in a heap thrown aside towards the forest. You wondered if your grandfather had done it. The thought sat like a stone in your mind, it made you recoil. Trying to imagine the grandparents you never met, never saw. But still gave you this property after their passing. One that you looked up at now with curiosity and… fear, comprehension? 

Too many questions, too many thoughts. You dismissed it all away.

You expected Nikolai to stop right then and there and park. But he only drove around the logs, crushing the vegetation underneath as he went. The sedan stopped in front of the cabin. He left the car on but in park as he hopped out, wasting no time in unloading all your luggage with your help despite his disapproving frown. It was easier taking it all out than it was loading it, and before you knew it all your luggage and bags were on the front porch. And with a wave and smile from Nikolai, and sincere gratitude from you, you watched as the sedan drove away until it disappeared between the trees. 

With a heavy sigh, you turned and faced the door to the cabin. The house key felt heavier in your pocket. Overcome with a sudden hesitation that prevented you from moving. As if you were a vampire needing permission to enter a home. You took a big step back, sitting on one of the wooden chairs out on the patio. Next to dead perennials and other potted plants grouped along the railing where you assumed the early morning sun concentrated. You took in the fresh air. The smell of the forest and soil that felt cleansing for your lungs, accustomed to the fumes of pollution. After a few minutes you stood back up. Facing the door once more, you placed your hands upon the wood. Feeling the cool, smooth surface. You grabbed the key, turning the lock and with a squeak, you opened the cabin door and went inside. 

You stared into darkness. Only a rectangular strip of light extended into the cabin from behind you. Enough for you to distinguish the shadowed shapes of furniture and decorations. Your footsteps echoed against the wood flooring, reverberating through the dark as you grabbled around for a light switch. 

“Let there be light.” You mumbled to yourself and flicked on a light switch. 

Immediately the house flooded with warm lighting. You walked further in, hit with the layered smell of dust and must. The cabin was a bit smaller than it looked from the outside. With a small yet open kitchen that led directly to a living room. A singular hall divided both, leading to the back of the cabin where a bedroom and bathroom were. You took a second to wander and take in the inside. It was what you expected a grandparents’ house to be like. Rustic and vintage. With old furnishings, knickknacks, and décor. 

Various art pieces, landscape paintings and nature photographs hung on the walls. 

A cross-stitch sampler of the wild Alaskan landscape full of grazing deer and songbirds in the treetops was next to the front door, right above a small table where a wilted plant sat. Plush couches overstuffed with not matching throw pillows huddled around a wood-stove in the living room. A large bookshelf stuffed full of old books and films lined along the wall, away from the wood-stove, and next to an antique grandfather clock. Ticking away, louder than your footsteps as you went to the window. Pulled the drapery and opened the window to air out the house and get rid of the stench. Dust motes danced in the sun streams, floating and falling slowly like fall leaves.

Everything felt lived-in and loved. How peculiar.

You made quick work in bringing in all your luggage and bags. Collapsing on one of the couches and into the pile of pillows, some tumbling onto the floor from your impact. But soon the smell of dust from the cushions invaded your nose and you quickly got up, making a mental note to deodorize the couches. You grabbed your suitcases and bags, taking them down the hall past the other bathroom and a closet to where the master bedroom was at its end.

The floor creaked as you stepped foot inside. Sunlight filtered through the drapery as you pulled it aside and right onto the handcrafted quilted duvet of a queen sized bed in the center. It was a decently sized room with a small connecting bathroom. Compared to the rest of the house, it was decorated minimally. With only a bed, an armoire, and a lamp. A small vanity desk near the window. Some novelties here and there. You lifted the window latch and opened the bedroom window to get rid of the stuffiness in the bedroom and continue to air out the house. You rummaged around the room, finding clean sheets, pillowcases and blankets in a plastic tub underneath the bedframe. 

They were still fresh and smelt of detergent, better than the duvet and pillowcases that have been sitting in a stuffy room for who knows how long. You quickly changed the bedsheets, pillowcases and duvets. Throwing the stripped contents aside on an end-of-the-bed bench to be cleaned later. You brought all your luggage inside, the entirety of it cluttered a majority of the space. Only giving you one way to get on and off the bed and a path to the bathroom. You cleaned up as much as you could, a shallow cleaning: sweeping and wiping away the gathering dust; taking up the rest of the late afternoon that turned into early evening.  

Now, the only thing left was something to eat. You walked into the kitchen, looking around. The fridge was filled with expired and molding food. And nothing appetizing. You looked into the pantry cabinet, seeing a lot of canned foods and sealed, labelled mason jars. One of the labels reading ‘chamomile’ caught your eye. You grabbed it, looking inside to see the dried flowers of chamomile. Deciding that tea and that bag of chips in your handbag from your flight to Alaska would be your dinner. You found an old kettle and searched through the kitchen cabinets stacked with mismatched dishes, old tea cups, novelty mugs, and glassware. You grabbed one of the mugs, noticing it was hand-painted with a howling wolf. After a few tries, you managed to light the propane stove, filled the kettle with water and began to boil it. You filled a tea ball you found in one of the drawers with the tea, letting it seep once the kettle whistled and you filled up your mug with boiling water. 

You enjoyed what you could of your…dinner. Deciding to peruse the bookshelf for something interesting to read as you began to settle. But soon, you felt your entire day weigh down on you; the entirety of your day filled with travel. You closed the living room window, noticing the waning gibbous moon between the sliver of clouds. You pulled the curtain closed and went to the bathroom for a much needed shower. When you finally collapsed onto the bed and sunk into the quilt, you tried to get some rest. Only to toss and turn for hours, not being able to get comfortable. Soon there came a recognizable sound. Between the doldrum came a cry, the howls of wolves in the distance. It was a night’s call, a symphony. Haunting, beautiful. You couldn’t help but tilt your head, trying to hear it better. Memorized by the harmony. 

You snuggled underneath the covers, listening to the howling until it lulled you to sleep.

[gaybirdnerd]

Ghost: "Who the fuck let you out of the house at this rate? You're a god damn disaster and need supervision, OBVIOUSLY"

Soap: *In a hospital bed and loopy on pain meds* "I looked both ways before crossing that street"

Ghost: *Getting more pissed* "You ran full speed in front of a car, you're lucky it was going SLOW"

Soap: "I said LOOKED both ways, meaning I made sure I was handsome AND beautiful" *giggles like an idiot*

Ghost: "I'm going to eventually strangle you and it won't be blamed on anything except insanity."

Soap: "You can't give me back or exchange me, I burned the receipt remember?"

Ghost: "That was our marriage certificate, and I got a new one that you won't be able to burn because you don't know where it is." *Slowly coming to the realization that he, is in fact, the one who let Soap out of the house without supervision*

[tiddygame]

ghost’s civilian wardrobe is nothing but hawaiian shirts. soap is in utter disbelief the first time he sees it. ghost says they’re good bc:

it’s so fucking ugly, no one can stand to look at it for too long so he doesn’t draw attention

No one thinks the ghost would wear something so bright and stupid meaning he’s completely under cover every time he’s on leave

they’re cheap and an easy thrift

but he just really fucking likes how goddamn ugly they are

…

at least, that’s what he tells soap. and himself. in reality, they were always tommy’s thing. he always wore them to the point everyone knew that the safest gift to get him was the ugliest patterned shirts they could find. in every family photo, tommy was the easiest to spot with the brightest eye sore worn proudly with a smile.

after that cold night in december, all of their stuff was either donated or thrown away.

one day, ghost was thrift shopping (because even though now he had more money, habits from being raised in a poor home die hard) and saw one of them. he froze. at first, he thought it was just one that looked similar. but when he inspected it, it even had that old tear tommy had gotten simon to fix and sew up for him.

he grabbed it in a daze. he searched every rack in that store and found a few more hawaiian shirts. if they were tommy’s or not didn’t matter. he bought them. for days, he hunted through every thrift store in town buying every stupid patterned shirt he saw.

knowing that the few shirts he collected was the only thing he had left of his baby brother finally broke him. he probably looked insane, sitting in his old beat up pickup truck, surrounded by shopping bags from different stores, crying into a yellow and orange button up with flowers on it, and one sewn up tear on the sleeve. but it was tommy’s. and it was all he had.

at first, they were hidden away in a box. he lied to himself that it was because he wanted to keep them safe, but in reality, he couldn’t look at them without either wanting to cry or punch holes in the wall.

but, one christmas, he finally pulls his head out of his ass and grabs them. visits the cemetery in a stupid yellow and orange monstrosity of a shirt and complains that tommy couldn’t have had a better fashion sense.

he wears another when he has to go grocery shopping. and again when he runs errands. and again. and again. and again.

the first time one of them got something on it, he almost cried and pulled every trick his mother taught him about removing stains. the shadow of it persisted but the pattern covered most of it.

eventually, they became a staple of his wardrobe.

years later, soap watched ghosts careful routine he had for washing the shirts. they were always washed separately on delicate and air dried with routine inspections for any holes or tears. it would click later, when finding an old family photo, one with a young boy on simon’s shoulders and another man next to him in a familiar yellow and orange shirt, that perhaps simon hadn’t been entirely truthful when he said he just liked them.

simon was scared the first time soap did his laundry, but johnny always washed them with the same level of care, following the exact same routine. he still made fun of him (lovingly, of course), saying that crimes against fashion must run in the family.

…

and further down the line, years later, they will be old and graying with wrinkles, wearing matching hawaiian shirts. johnny will complain about how ugly they are yet will still wear it happily (and tune out simon reminding him that it was johnnys idea to start matching)

[brokenpieces-72]

Hi, I hope you’re having a good day, I’m up at like midnight trying to sleep but I had an idea that I just had to submit. What if while the team is working on a trafficking sting in Australia they stumble upon a Tasmanian tiger hybrid who is among the last of their kind. as an Australian I have loved this species since I first found out about it and thought it would make a great tragic story ❤️.

Okay, so I looked up what these creatures look like, and then read further about them later on, and learned they are extinct. This made it a bit of a challenge but a welcome one. I also genuinely could not think of a good name for the reader, even a nickname, so if there is some placeholder spots that's why.

Taz

CoD Hybrid AU | Navigation

CW: Mentions of trafficking, mentions of possible life risks, let me know if I missed anything.

At first you felt yourself drifiting to unconsciousness, your body sore and starting to give out. Then there was a soft voice, and a strange shape outside your kennel. Everything faded into darkness, as you thought you were leaving the mortal world. Something went over your face and the soft voice continued to speak to you. It reassured you everything would be okay, and that you were going to get help.

Then you started to hear beeping. Soft and steady. You didn't feel panicked when you opened your eyes, despite the tubes that were connected to your body. In fact you didn't notice the tubes, until you moved your arms. A sedative no doubt. Maybe you'd already been sold, and they were worried about keeping you alive. At the moment your vision was still dark, there was a blindfold over your eyes, likely to keep you from overstressing. A door opened, making your ears twitch towards the sound.

"Hello?" The soft voice from before spoke before closing the door. "Can you hear me? You can just lift your hand or move a little."

You lifted your hand, your throat dry from a lack of water. "My name is Spirit. I'm here to help you. Your eyes are covered to reduce your stress, along with a sedative to keep your heart rate steady. You're being given some medicine as well. Would you like some water?"

You lifted your hand. Spirit warned you she was going to touch you, and gave you some water with a straw. She went on to explain that you would be in bed for a while, and the blindfold would remain until they can assure your stress levels are low enough. If you need anything, don't hesitate to call out, you have a room to yourself and Spirit would ensure someone came that could be trusted. For now, you should rest for a bit.

"Th-Thank you." You croaked. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry for what?" Spirit asked.

"Not a...very good product." You said. Spirit stood there for a moment, silent.

"May I hold your hand?" Spirit asked. You nodded, with some hesitation. Not the first time someone asked that, and the result wasn't pleasant. Small calloused hands held your palm, rubbing it gently over the bandages. "You're not a product, no one bought you. My team and I rescued you from your situation. No one will be purchasing you. Once you recover, we'll do everything we can to send you to a good home."

You took a moment, before the tears started to fall. You whimpered, and Spirit's soft hand went to your cheek. Spirit could feel you shaking, despite the sedatives in your body. "You're safe here. I promise."

After some more water and some food fed to you, Spirit made sure you were taken care of for the rest of the night. She went the extra effort to tuck you in, and talk to you a little bit. If you had any questions, she was happy to answer. Once you were more comfortable, Spirit made sure you had everything you needed before saying good night, and leaving you alone. The room was a little cold, but the blanket felt warmer than before. It felt too good to be true. Free. You were free.

Spirit took you on walks once you felt comfortable to walk around. The blindfold stayed on for a while, Spirit leading you to the washroom, taking the role of your caregiver. Some times it was another person, but they were very careful with making you feel safe and preventing you from being overwhelmed. One day you asked Spirit if you could try walking around, wanting to know more about where you were. Spirit made sure you wore shoes, and some pants. The last thing Spirit wanted was for you to walk around in a hospital gown, feeling exposed. You needed a little help with your tail, but that was it.

One foot in front of the other as you walked around, Spirit being very patient with your progress. As you went, people passed, and were pointed out to you. Then there was a shout and you yelped, tensing up. You were off the sedative, so Spirit spoke to you clearly and clamly. Alarm bells were going off in your head, as your heart rate went up. You were grounded quickly, held on to, firmly but not painfully. Spirit readjusted herself, and sat next to you, holding you close, while you clung to her. A hand went to your hair and ears, stroking them gently.

"Sergeant, could you grab Soap for me, remind him to be quiet." Spirit said. You heard footsteps leave and then some come back, along with a scottish accent.

"What appened?" He asked. If you could see the death stare, Spirit gave her older brother, you would think her eyes were silver. Soap realized what he'd done right away. In his defence he didn't realize you'd left the room with her. He apologized and asked what he could do to help.

"I-I... I'm fine now I think." You said. You wanted to keep going, try to push through the attack.

"Are you sure?" Spirit asked. You nodded.

"Wanna 'and?" Soap offered. You sniffed the air, trying to figure out what he was. A wolf maybe? Smelled like it. You cautiously held your hand out and felt much bigger, and rougher hands than Spirit's.

"Thank you." You said. Spirit took your other arm, and you said bye to Soap while Spirit let you keep walking.

For a few minutes everything was fine, until you turned a corner. You were still fine, but you heard Spirit raise her voice a bit. "Horangi, don't even think about it."

You heard a different language and a very odd scent. Certainly not a normal animal. Was that brimstone as well? Spirit assured you she would introduce you to her team if you wanted to meet them. For now she wanted your faculties back and for you to feel safe, so stress wouldn't over take you.

The blindfold came off, and the lights were low. You could still make out the sergeant with rabbit ears and antlers. It didn't take much to know who Spirit was, as she'd spent plenty of time with you. You were her top priority along with the other rescued creatures.

Soap was friendly with you right off the bat. You were a new scent to him as well. He wasn't entirely sure what you were at first, but if his sister could trust you then he was willing. Soap came to visit you on occasion in your room, keeping you company. When the fullmoon comes around though, he is sure to avoid you like the plague. Spirit let's you watch the shift happen from a safe place, with the rest of the team providing a distraction for the wolf. You want to rebuild your confidence, and exposure to experiences was what you wanted to do.

You met others as well. Spirit figured it couldn't hurt for you to interact with other hybrids. Rudy meets you next, and as always the cadejos are a welcome treat. Sometimes the white one will pop half of it's body in first before Rodolfo steps inside. Once you tried throwing something to the dog while it was halfway through the door, and it caught it, coming over to you so you could toss it again. Rudy just stood outside your door, letting you enjoy your little session with the cadejo.

Ghost avoids you like the plague. You're a rare creature, he hasn't seen a hybrid or animal like you before, so he isn't about to take the risk of stressing you out to the point your heart gives out. Not the most comforting sort anyways. However he still has to pass your room from time to time, so you get a whiff of him. It's an odd scent, but when you encounter him face to face you know who it is. Admittedly, when Ghost sees you, it's like finding a hurt puppy. You had been through it no doubt, and if you need to talk to someone, he can take the rough shit you don't like bringing up.

Kyle is surprisingly one of the best people to be around. When you were still blindfolded, he didn't mind leading you around base. His feathers are great when you need a sensory for your hands. Sometimes you think it's annoying for him. No it's not, but if you want you can prune him a bit. Actually it becomes an activity that helps you focus, and Gaz gets some comfort out of it. If you ever need some comfort outside your room, his wings actually make for a great cover when your breathing gets difficult. No you're not holding him up. His superiors are understanding with these sort of things.

Alejandro asked what hybrid you were right off the bat, and honestly you weren't entirely sure yourself. Some people said you were a tiger, others said you were a dog. Alejandro offers to let you test out what you can do, but if you ever need to stop, he won't push. Yeah, that sounds kind of nice. You could use some exercise, and Alejandro is pretty good coach. Gentle but pushes you. One more. You can do one more. If you do one more, he'll piggyback you inside. Done, awesome, you hungry? Alright, he'll carry you there.

Now usually Simon was the one to take an interest in newcomers at a distance. Price however, he is curious about you. Your scent is uncommon, really uncommon. It can't be easy with some of the looks you were getting. That being said, he's a big dragon. Approaching you slowly and carefully was the safest. On occasion you would step outside where he was, and observe whatever was going on outside. Price has a habit and instinct where his wing covers members of his pack, usually during sleep. In this case, he makes sure you have some shade or an umbrella. One such time, it started to rain, and wing went over you. You held out your hand to let it fall on you. It had been a while since you'd felt the rain or even seen it. Price noticed your curiosity and let you step out from under his wing, seeing your curiousity turn into joy.

"I hate both the British government and the Tasmanian government." Spirit said.

"Wanna expand on that Spirit?" Kyle asked, a brow raised.

"I found out what Y/N is." Spirit said.

"Golden retriever?" Soap guessed.

"I guessed greyhound." Rudy added.

"They're not a dog, not exactly." Spirit said sighing. "They're a tasmanian tiger."

The room was a little quiet. Price sighed, knowing this made it harder. The animal itself was extinct for about 50 or so years. Hybrids were even more rare and for all the wrong reasons. No wonder you'd been priced so high. You could very well be the only one left. The rest of the team was a less aware, but Price's reaction was enough to tell them it was bad.

"What does this have to do with the British?" Kyle asked.

"Tasmanian tigers and wolves are extinct, and largely due to the Tasmanian government putting out government-backed bounties, and the British colonizing didn't make that any better." Spirit explained. "At first I thought it was just the animals, but when I contacted some organizations, more than a couple asked whether we wanted to be paid or pay them upon delivering Y/N to them."

"They hunted hybrids?" Soap asked. Yeah, he'd heard of werewolves getting hunted, but shit like that didn't happen as often anymore. It was much more rare to hear about. To hear the government was still offering bounties made him sick. Made all of them sick. Hell you were just a kid, what could you honestly do?

"It's going to take much longer for me to find them a placement, one that I know will be safe." Spirit said.

"Mija, I hate to be that person, but remember that you can't guarentee a perfect placement for them. These are rare circumstances, it won't be easy." Alejandro spoke up. Spirit was aware of that, but it wouldn't stop her from asking around. It could mean sending you to a program, but she could live with that. That was the last resort though. Spirit turned her attention to the captain.

"I'm going to contact Laswell, see what she can find on any possible families or other organizations that could take in someone like Y/N." Spirit reported. Price gave her a nod, accepting her next course of action.

Now you were faced with boredom. You were able to get your hands on some books, which you devoured quickly. There wasn't much else to do on the base. Part of your routine was answering questions. Spirit or Laswell would ask them but it was rare even then. You would ask around for something to do, and even spend time with the other rescues. They seemed happy to get to go home soon, while some were a little nervous to go a program. You were given their contact info, so you could maintain your friendships. Even saw them off as they left the base.

The 141, Los Vacqueros and the members from Kortac didn't mind spending time with you, but they weren't always available. The Kortac members were easier to interact with, as they didn't have the same work as the others.

Horangi decides to show you how to gamble, under the radar. Well he tried but Spirit didn't find your lessons appropriate. Card games are fine, but betting snacks instead of chips was preferred. He can teach you other games as well. Some games you can play by yourself if he isn't around to teach you. Usually Horangi wouldn't bother with you, it's not part of his job. Playing some games to keep you entertained you could at least entertain him too. The best part is he finds playing games with you is a great time killer, and you're good at them as well.

Konig likes you. Usually, he's indifferent, not wanting to get attached but you're an exception. His large size has kept some people at bay, quieting others when things get too loud, and he can run you through the five senses during anxiety attacks. He's also the brimstone smell you caught when you were blindfolded. When you go outside of the base, exploring the area around, König gives you privacy if you need it. Your scent is distinct, so he can find you easily if it's time to head back. Also, he plays with your ears, which is very comforting.

You taught yourself to hunt, with Soap encouraging you to do so. In his eyes you're still a canine, and learning to hunt is something you should know or at least understand at your age. Thing is, while you would catch mice while in captivity, you often let them go. They still fed you, so hunting wasn't necessary. Soap tried to show you how to hunt like a wolf, but you're not exactly a wolf. You don't have the same speed as him but can sniff out prey easily enough, so Soap switches his teaching strategy to tracking.

Alejandro gets involved, understanding that a hybrid like you would often hunt in pairs. Once they marked a critter they released it, letting you chase after it. The two men stood back watching you... well they gave you credit for your determination. You kept chasing and diving for the fake animal, even going face first with your jaws. Okay, admittedly, they didn't know you could open your mouth that wide. Eventually, one nose dive left you on the ground, and you just lay there. Yeah you're okay, just tired and frustrated. Alejandro came over to sit with you, seeing how messy your face, hair and arms had gotten. You spat out dirt. More than once.

"We can take a break." He offered. He saw you keeping quiet, watching the critter take cover in a number of places.

"I'm stupid." You said, hugging your knees. Alejandro sighed, putting a hand on your shoulder.

"No, you're not." Alejandro told you. "You're not used to hunting, and we don't have proper teachers for you."

The colonel noticed you seemed more disappointed in yourself. Your face was a wreck, honestly. Scratches and a couple bruises. "Be proud of yourself. Not everyone dives head first into these things. Literally. It will take time to learn. Okay?"

You nodded, and got a hand up. You would find a way to catch the critter. One way or another. But yeah you were hungry, and probably needed some wounds cleaned. Maybe a shower.

When you returned, Spirit and Price were waiting. Spirit was trying not to look worried, while Price was confused how you got filthy while the colonel and sergeant seemed untouched. As soon as hunting practice is brought up, the two were understanding. Price offered to take you to get fixed and cleaned up. He too, told you to take pride in your bold approach. But to be careful, going face first.

Price took over your training. He watched as you scrambled for the critter, diving for it, and trying to grab at it. Still no luck. Price called you over after the fifth failed attempt, where you nearly broke your nose.

"If you keep chasing it in circles you'll wind up dizzy." He told you. "You need to rethink your plan of attack."

"I have one but it won't work." You told him.

"Why's that?" He asked.

"If I could chase it through the terrain, I think I might know a way to corner it." You told him. Price was intrigued. You'd gone from chasing your tail to suddenly having a strategy. A basic one, but he might be able to work something out to let you think it over more. Price invites you back inside, showing you a map of the surrounding area. In the end you had a good ambush strategy you could pull off with Alejandro.

Price is impressed and expresses as much. Your beaming makes his praise all the sweeter.

When you try again, Alejandro is open to your suggestion, and you're successful, cornering the target and capturing it. Alejandro came over and told you how brilliant you were. After that, you found yourself interested in strategy, intrigued by battles with creative tactics, and losses that could have been won through other means. Price was finding himself asking for your input on a few missions, and letting you look over some reports he was working on.

On one occasion you fell asleep looking at one, sitting slouched in a chair, with your legs tucked up. Price noticed maybe an hour into your nap. Seeing you sleeping there, made him feel old. It also reminded him that someone probably felt the same way. Spirit was still at work, finding a placement for you, one that was safe and thorough, even looking for your parents. Price was wondering, while looking at how peaceful you were, if he could let you go so easily.

Price was watching you learn how to fight, Alejandro dragging Horangi into his training sessions again. Both of them checked in to make sure you didn't freak out or get overwhelmed while they taught you maneuvers. Kyle came up beside him and looked at Price who seemed to be focused on you. Kyle could see why, as to whether he thought it was a good idea, that was in the air.

"I haven't seen you this focused on sparring practice in a while." Kyle commented. Price's focus was finally taken off of you for a moment.

"They're good." Price said shrugging. Just good? Kyle had seen you, you'd gone from a shivering puppy to a confident fighter. The dragon hybrid was looking at you, like you could be a new addition to his hoard. Which made Kyle a little concerned. You could be a valuable addition to the team sure, but the problem was, too much stress could kill you, literally. It was part of the reason Spirit kept you blindfolded until you felt comfortable.

Kyle was getting attached as well. You got excited when he dive bombed targets during your strategies. Seeing how pleased you were when your plans were successful, even just in practice put a smile on his face. You had two tails when you got engrossed in a book. Kyle could sit and listen to you point out all the flaws in an attack plan in your books for hours. You were constantly pushing yourself to be better, and like Price, Kyle had found you passed out with your novels and guides more than once.

Kyle was pulled out of his thoughts when he heard a hard thud, and you apologizing over and over. You'd gotten Horangi on his back who was snickering at your frantic state. There was still plenty for you to learn as Kyle found himself smiling again.

One night, everyone was staying inside, no going out. Above you heard the rain coming down hard. Really hard. Really really- was that rain or hail? Your ears flattened as you felt yourself getting nervous. It was just the weather. Just the weather. The base would protect you. You were safe. Safe.

Thunder crashed above and your cried out. Your hands went over your years, your body tucked up into a ball, and you squeezed your eyes shut. Deep breaths, you needed to take deep breaths. It was loud above you as hail continued to pound against the roof. Your heart was pounding in your chest, threatening to break out of it.

Suddenly, a warm blanket was draped over you, and a large weight joined you on the bed. Your eyes slowly opened, as the blanket was pulled off your head, and wrapped tightly around you. When you looked up, you saw Kyle looking down at you, concern on his face. There waas a flash and you looked around the room, waiting for the thunder, tensing up again. Large hands covered yours, muffling the noise even more, and Kyle sat behind you.

"Pretty loud aye?" Kyle asked, though you could barely hear him. You nodded, whimpering. "You're safe. It can't hurt you here."

Kyle moved in a little closer and pulled you to his chest, while he rested against the wall. He was really warm, and it was really comforting. Safe. You were safe with him. His wings wrapped around you partially. Your heartbeat was settling to a steady beat, as you rested your head on his chest. You didn't know harpy hearts sounded like that. It was calm, soft, and soothing.

Kyle smiled down at you, seeing you were being lulled to sleep. You were nuzzling into his hoodie. The tactical tasmanian tiger, scared of hail and thunder. Yeah he didn't like hail and thunder either. Made flying difficult. Kyle pulled the blanket over you, letting sleep take over. The others were helping the rest of the rescued kids, he had nowhere to be.

While he looked at your sleeping face, he let the hail above drown out his words, thinking out loud. "I think Price wants to adopt you. I want him to as well. This isn't the right place for you though, too much pressure, too much stress. Knowing him though... he'll find a way to make it work. You're special, really special. No matter what we're here for you."

Price was watching the scene from the door way, with Kyle. How could he let you go now?

You were the last rescue, still awaiting a placement. In the mean time, the team made you feel at home. They had you helping with tasks on base, and taking part in training. You sparred with most of them by now, and tested strategies with all of them. You were spending more and more time with Kyle and Price. One of them would often sit in with you while Spirit gave you check-ups and told you how her search for a safe program was going. Spirit wasn't about to force you into a place you didn't want but she had limited time.

The last few times, Price would stay behind to chat with Spirit. You didn't know what about, but that was okay. You could find Kyle for some target practice or tag. A couple times Kyle stayed behind as well, so Price showed you some sparring tricks he'd learned from years of experience. You were getting anxious though as Spirit's window was closing in. Honestly, you didn't need your parents by now. You had your own pack here. It was a little scary, but you were safe.

The final day comes and both Kyle and Price take you to Spirit. They're protective as they walk with, standing on either side. Price kept a hand on your back, while your tail was tucked between your legs. Spirit stood outside the small office giving you a friendly smile. You sat down at a chair, with Kyle and Price behind you, and a stranger standing behind Spirit.

"Y/N, do you want to go to a program?" Spirit asked. Your ears perked up. You thought you didn't have much of a choice. Isn't that why the stranger was there?

"No." You said. The stranger let out a soft breath, expecting your answer. Spirit looked back at him, shrugging.

"You want to stay on base?" She asked. You nodded because yeah you did want to stay. You felt so useful and not just for your looks or hybrid features. Your tail started to wag.

"Unfortunately, staying on base is not very simple." Spirit explained. Your ears lowered, and your tail stopped moving. "There's plenty of noise, things that can startle you and highly stressful situations that would put your life highly at risk."

"I know." You said, lowering your gaze in disappointment.

"There are some solutions for that." Spirit told you. You looked up, hopeful. Spirit sighed, knowing this explaination would be complicated. At least it was a decent compromise.

"There's a program in Australia, one that I have been assured will focus on your health and safety above all else. Not only that, but they can help you with handling stressful situations, as well as allow you to have regular visits with your sponsors. You can come visit the base or any other base as long as your sponsors agree to it." Spirit continued. She gestured to the stranger. "This man is a rerainer for the program, and thoroughly studies the hybrids they work with. He's here to take you to their facility, but only if you agree to it."

You sat there, listening to the explanation. It sounded too good to be true. You'd heard about programs being rough for a lot of hybrids but Spirit trusted this one. You did have a question though.

"Who are my sponsors?" You asked. Spirit looked past you and nodded to the two winged men standing behind you. You turned around and saw both of them smiling. Your face lit up, and without thinking, you ran over to Price, hugging his waist. He chuckled and hugged you back.

"I take it that's a yes?" Spirit asked. You nodded against Price's shirt, tearing up. The stranger smirked, and talked to Spirit for a moment. It was going to be a couple days before you were taken to the facility. It was also going to be scary. You were happy though, and that was enough for Kyle and Price. You had a pack now, and they both had a new treasure.

Taglist: @yourlovely-moon @kaoyamamegami @h0n3y-l3m0n05 @sans-chara @0wosugarmommymedic0wo @smitten-haematite-quartz @talia-the-gemini @yuki2129 @whitetiger846 @graystorm444 @chibiduck @reaperxxxxzz @danielle143 @sobbingnshtting @cringeycookies @cryingpages @dcnocap207 @reaper-chan666 @bestbookfriends @thriving-n-jiving @cutiecusp @shikigami-the-paper-spirit @lolyouranelf

[darth-mortem]

💀: Don't you think we should stop taking animals home?

🧼: Why do you think so?

[charliemwrites]

Woof woof… whimper

(Part 10… but technically a continuation of part 9)

Content: Dub-Con/Non-Con, Knotting

It takes your cock-addled brain a second too long to process what Soap’s just said. What he’s implied. And by then he’s all ready for you to buck against him, confused and angry.

“That’s so — that’s not funny!” You shout.

But he’s got you pinned thoroughly, your chest flat against the mattress and your ass flush against his hips. His cock buried so deep you can feel the hot head of it bullying the deepest parts of you. All your struggling does is make you clench up tight around him, makes him feel that much bigger and meaner inside you. Makes him grunt low and ragged in your ear, all animal appreciation.

“I’m not laughin’,” he replies, nipping at your shoulder.

“G-get off of me, get out, get—”

His hand slides into your hair again, gets a firm hold at the roots and presses your face into the blankets, muffling your protests. Shushes you like soothing a panicked animal.

“Now, now,” he chides, “I still gotta prove I’m not compensating, don’t I?”

You suck in a breath, squeezing your eyes shut. There have to be a million explanations other than the absolutely ludicrous one he’s just presented to you. Cameras, microphones��.

How did he know where you live?

How did he know where the spare key was?

How did he know where your bedroom was?

How did he find you at the bar?

Stalker, you tell yourself. He’s a creep, you’ve always known that.

Then where’s your dog?

“N-no,” you warble, bucking again. Nearly scream as his cock twitches inside you; only reason you don’t is because you can barely breathe as it is. He’s so deep inside that he’s practically in your lungs. “No way you’re my — there’s no way. You’re crazy. I’m gonna— ah!”

He draws out as you speak, gradual, and then plunges in again all at once, cutting you off. Grinds his hips in a dirty circle too, burying himself as deep as he can.

“Aww, poor thing,” he coos. “S’alright, baby, I knew this would happen. We jus’ gotta get all those big, scary feelings out first. Then I can explain it all nice and slow.”

You try to scream at him. Try to curse him out, tell him there’s no way in hell you’re listening to a word he says now; never mind letting him spend another second with his dick in you.

All that comes out is a high-pitched keen as he starts fucking you without further preamble. It aches, but you can’t tell in what way. If it hurts, if it’s the best you’ve ever had. Both? Your nerves feel haywire, brain dragged to lust-stupid depths.

“See, there we go,” he rasps, punctuating with a sharp snap of his hips on that last word. “My perfect little mate. Your cunt was made for my cock, made to be bred by me. Isn’t that right?”

You try to shake your head, but his grip keeps you from doing more than sending electricity down your spine, hair pulled taut.

“Yeah it fucking is,” he growls to his own question, canting your hips back further. His fingers grip cruelly into the flesh, sure to leave bruises. You wish you didn’t enjoy the sensation, wish it didn’t make you spasm around him helplessly.

“‘Bout time I owned you right back, don’t you think?” He continues, never stopping or even slowing. You yelp as he tugs your necklace again, arching your back at a steep angle. “Even collared yourself up for me. All it needs is my name.”

Something about that drives some awful, slutty part of your brain fucking wild. The idea of you with a tight leather choker — a collar — with his name (you don’t think about what name) hanging from your throat…

“Like that, don’t you?” He chuckles meanly. “Who’s my good little slut? Who’s my perfect, soaked little breeding whore?”

Tears spring to your eyes as you realize the “I am” is right there on the tip of your over-saturated tongue. If you had air, brain cells, any ability at all, you’d be crying it to the ceiling like the toy he’s treating you as.

He’s going to ruin you, you think. He’s going to fuck you broken. You’re crying and wailing on his cock, think you’d actually throw a tantrum if he pulled out and left you on the edge right now. Would, you realize in horror, beg for him to keep going.

And then he snakes his hand around your hip and starts rubbing your clit — fast, hard little circles. Just the way you like; the way you’d do it yourself. Relentlessly and cruel, even when you try to writhe away from how fast you can feel yourself getting to the edge. Almost frightened by it, how quickly he’s mastered your body’s pleasure.

Frightened by the extra stimulation at your entrance, too. A little extra friction at first — shocking because you’re leaving a puddle on the sheets. But then the friction becomes pressure, becomes… more.

“W-wha….?” You slur, hips wriggling.

Soap (Johnny?) snarls in your ear and that feeling at your entrance grows. Feels, you realize with alarm, like stretching.

“Gonnae take my knot so well,” he rambles, accent thick like syrup, trickling into your empty brain, filling you up with meaningless sounds. “Plug you up full of my cum, breed you right just like you need.”

Any questions or confusion are whisked away by the extra stimulation at your entrance. The sensitive nerves getting just as much brutal attention as your inner walls, your cervix, that sweet spot inside you that makes your eyes roll back.

It all becomes too much all at once and crashes through you, devastating. You clamp down around him tight and needy, lean all your weight back into his thighs. And he practically howls as he sinks into you and stays, grinding and humping without ever actually pulling out again. You feel a flood of heat that seems to go on for an absurdly long time, cock pulsing against your overstimulated walls, milked for every last drop.

You shudder as your brain tries and fails to process it all. Like trying to decipher a foreign language from white noise. It’s nothing but static to you.

You can feel a tongue against your shoulder, scraped of blunt teeth. Soap/Johnny licking the sweat from your skin and nipping bruises into the flesh. You make an annoyed noise that comes out whinier than intended, shoving at his face.

“Get off, you bastard.” Your voice is pathetic, thick with tears and fractured in a hundred places.

“Can’t, bonnie, even if I wanted to.”

You scowl, try to look at him over your shoulder. He takes that opportunity to nuzzle against your temple.

“What?” You ask. “What are you talking about?”

“Did ye hear me?” He chuckles. “Well, maybe not with the way you were screamin’. You’re all knotted up, baby. Can’t pull out — ‘less you want this pretty pussy to tear.”

You jolt, nearly yank yourself off out of pure fear, but Johnny keeps you still again, humming.

“Easy now,” he croons. “Still fussy? Need another to settle down?”

Useless as your brain may be, it recognizes what he means by “another one.” You think you might pass out.

“No,” you snap, petulant even to your own ears. “I want you to explain… explain everything.”

“Alright, hen. C’mere.”

He gently lays you out prone on the bed, then rolls you both on your sides. Hitches your leg up over his hip. You want to protest, but it helps the ache in your poor cunt.

“H-how are you still hard?” You pant, traitorous pussy twitching around him.

He growls in your ear, can feel him grinning against the lobe. “Will stay that way for a bit, lass. Don’ worry, you jus’ have to lay here all nice and still. Keep me warm while I explain things to you.”

And he does. How there are shapeshifters out there in the world, rare as they are. That he comes from a line of them. Recruited to military, as most of them are.

How he was on standard patrol when he smelled you for the first time.

“Like a wet dream, bonnie. Fertile. Spring. Smelled like mine.”

How he instantly knew you were his mate. That he just needed to make you see it. Never a good time to explain it all to you — and then there were interlopers and your silly little books and your pesky toys. How he tried to drop hints around the house, let you come to the correct conclusion on your own. But you never did.

“Honestly it’s a good thing I’m here, hen. You’re so oblivious. Lived with a man and never even knew it.”

That he tried to go about it the other way ‘round, as a man, but you’re just so stubborn. And then how it all led up to tonight. To you finally, finally realizing what you really needed: your mate.

You should be angry, furious. There’s a lot to say about… well, all of it. It’s horrifying and violating and… and…

And he hasn’t stopped bullying your clit since he started talking. Cruel, tight circles. Drawing the hood back with two fingers and stroke with a third, slow and languid and just soft enough to make your head spin. Rhythmless taps. Even pinches when you try to chew him out at one point, half turning to scowl. Instead have his tongue lapping sloppily at yours as your mouth gapes open soundlessly.

Makes you cum twice just like that without ever interrupting his own story, cock still hilted — knotted deep inside you. Honestly, you probably miss a good portion of it, some of the finger details for sure. But you get the broad strokes (among other strokes).

He licks at your overstimulated tears when he’s finished, nuzzling and kissing your cheek.

“I-I miss my dog,” you mumble finally, hands balled against your chest.

“Aww, darlin’,” he sighs, sounding genuinely apologetic. “We’re one and the same. I’m always your boy no matter what form I take.”

It would be more comforting if his dick didn’t throb calling himself your boy.

“‘Sides, I’m better than a normal mutt,” he continues, tugging you against his chest. You want to hate that is instantly makes you feel a little better. “Wolves mate for life, after all.”

First | Previous | 1fur1

Masterlist

[amazeingartist]

Some (loose) Wolf Duo Doodles

soap’s a werewolf and ghost’s a wolf shifter

[screamingforests]

Boss makes a dollar, I make a dime, thats why i write cod hybrid foster au on company time

_________ More Below ⬇️

The next day isn't any easier, especially for you. Being a sheep hybrid, you were especially shy, and being around giant predator hybrids didn't help with that fact. You were painfully scared, your fight or flight on 24/7.

And the boys didn't know how to help you. You were their first placement, so they weren't as smooth with everything and helping you as they'd like.

In fact, that first morning, you gave Simon a fright. He had knocked on your door and entered, expecting to need to wake you up for breakfast that Kyle was preparing, but didn't see you in your bed.

You had just wandered out, needing to use the bathroom, but it caused a good scare. You were so silent when moving around, and it broke their hearts to see such obvious signs of your past hurts. You had also scared Johnny when coming out of the bathroom because he thought you were in your room.

Breakfast was... tense. You ate slowly, pushing food around on your plate. You mostly watched everyone else eat. John ate slowly as well but tried to encourage you to eat more. He needed to provide for his cubs.

"Eat up, lamb, there's plenty to go around," Price soothed softly, gently pushing your plate closer to you. "You want something to drink? I think we've got juice."

You were quiet for several long moments, chewing on your lip. Johnny so badly wanted to reach over and chide you but he knew it wouldn't be welcome.

"Juice, please?" You finally ask, the first words you've spoken to them. It makes them want to coo and fawn over you.

However, the sheer hesitancy in your tone makes them pause. It was clear you had been through a lot. The foster system had not been kind to you.

But Kyle jumps up to go get your juice. Unbeknownst to you, he dilutes it about halfway with water. Because your anxiety is so high, he doesn't want the excess of sugar making it worse. The cup he sets in front of you is a bright plastic, some cartoon character etched into it. You didn't know who, though.

"Thank you, mister," you mumble gratefully as you take a sip, holding the cup with the utmost carefulness as you take a drink.

"It's no problem, sweet boy," Kyle coos at you, a soft smile on his face. "But you don't need to call me mister, you can call me Kyle, or Ky!"

You watch him with your wide eyes for a moment, digesting the information. Finally, you nod slowly. It would be interesting if you would follow through with that, though.

After breakfast, Simon and Johnny want to take you out on the town. You need more clothes and they want to help you personalize your room a little more. Maybe get you a little suitcase in the very slim off chance you get reassigned. That way, you don't have to carry your belongings in a trash bag, which was always heartbreaking to see.

A large majority of the trip you were carrying around in Simon's arms, it was odd, but it was comfortable. You felt more secure, but not enough to say that wouldn't bolt the first clear chance you got. Passerbys cooed at you, and even some sheep hybrids smiled at your protected form. No place safer than right next to a vicious prefator set on protecting you, no?

By time you all left the shops, you were dozing off and it was barely even noon. Simon just slightly passed you off to Johnny, who chuffed low in his throat to soothe you when you momentarily stirred. Simon then tasked himself with carrying all the bags into the car - they had gotten you a lot of stuff. Johnny just continued to cradle you, like you were the most precious thing in the world to him.

And at that moment, you were.

Just a soft little lamb that lit up their worlds more than you knew.

And mayne after your nap, they would establish more of the rules for you and help you settle in more with all your new things.

[crystalbeetle888]

Wild Heart Pt. Intro

141 x Wolf-Hybrid Reader After trying for many years to leave the mercenary life behind, an old friend comes back into your life to offer you piece of adventure, and possibly something more. Warnings- Mentions of Violence, Course Language Words- 1,496

Master List Pt. Intro - Pt. 1

The rumbling sound of a car echoes throughout the valley. You can hear it miles before it breaks through the forest line. A black SUV with tinted out windows dives up the dirt road, dust clouds pooling behind it. You watch cautiously from the front porch, ears and eyes honing in on the unknown vehicle. You scrunch your nose at the pungent smell of diesel catching on the breeze. The car spins around on the road before stopping in front of the gate, built into the stone fence. Finally, the car door opens and a blonde woman steps out, “Kate” you sigh in relief. She waves her arm in a friendly gesture before making her way over across the long lawn. “You’re a hard person to find” She smiles warmly, “I did that deliberately” you reply shortly. The smell of human males on her causes you to anxiously watch the car for another to get out. “It’s just me for today,” She says, sensing your hesitation. Kate slowly walks up the steps to you before offering an open hand. You take it, and lower your head to sniff it. Smells of leather, coffee, toothpaste and floral deodorant are the strongest. But underneath all that, a musky smell stains her hands, likely from a handshake with a human male. The smell isn’t hard to miss, it’s often a sort of sweet woodsy smell with hints of spice. Usually the stench of harsh chemicals, deodorants, cologne, or cigarettes covers up their natural scent. 

You release her hand, convinced by her words “Come in then” you lead her inside, locking the door behind her. Kate sits at the dining room table whilst you enter the kitchen and prepare a cup of tea “I don’t suppose you're visiting me for a nice country holiday are you?” You put the kettle on and lean against the counter across from her. “Unfortunately no, I need to hire you for a job”.

You huff in frustration “You know I don’t do that kind of work anymore” “And you know I wouldn’t be asking if I had another choice”.

You sigh in annoyance “Just out of curiosity, I’m not committing to anything, but what’s the job?” Kate smiles, pulling out a yellow folder and placing it on the table, she opens it to reveal a series of photos “This is Viktor Petrov, he’s a part of a Russian terrorist organization operating out of Mount Pobeda. We have intel that he’s been developing bio-weapons and intends on distributing them to the highest bidder in a month's time at an black market auction in Tokyo. We need to intercept those weapons before they leave Russia and arrest Petrov.”

You scan over the photos of a tall blonde man enjoying himself at bars and strip clubs “Hardly the scientist type” you remark. “He’s ex-military, served eight years before becoming an entrepreneur” you hum in thought. “I still don’t understand why you’d need me” 

Kate sighs “My team and I have recently lost some of our trusted contacts and I know you’re familiar with the terrain” Kate pauses “It goes through Volt-Krov country and my men need an escort through the territory or else they won’t make it. I’m aware the local tribes-people aren’t too friendly with humans.” 

You purse your lips in thought and lean back in your chair, rubbing your face. “I don’t have anyone to take care of my animals whilst I’m gone” you deflect. 

Kate smiles knowingly “I can have someone come down tonight so you can show them the ropes, they’ll stay here as long as we need” 

You shake my head still unconvinced “I’ve done my time, paid my debt back to you”.

Kate nods in understanding, packing up her folder and standing “That’s alright, it’s always a pleasure talking to you” She places a card down on the table and you give her a tight lipped smile before escorting her towards the door, strangely the smell of satisfaction wafting by as she walks past you. “I’ll see you again soon” she calls out, waving goodbye as she leaves. You snorted in confusion ‘Why does the race of man always speak in riddles?’ You think, annoyed by her cryptic remark. Her car peels down the driveway raising up another dust storm. You shake your head and continue with your daily chores.

The night is crisp as you sit on your front porch with a hot chocolate and a cheeky little joint. You lay across the old leather couch, gazing out over the valley. The clear night sky twinkles and the lush grass sways in the gentle breeze. The moment is peaceful. Almost too peaceful. Your thoughts drift back to Kate and her offer, the itch for adventure slowly gnaws at your brain. You haven’t been off the farm properly in just over a year, let alone worked.

You audibly groan knowing that this urge won’t go away with time. With a reluctant huff you stand and make your way back inside. The card is black with only a number on it, your phone rings twice before she picks up “Decided to change your mind?” Kate asks.

“Yes… but this is my last job okay?” You state firmly. She hums “We’ll see about that, I’ll have someone there to pick you up and another to take care of your home at 0500 hours tomorrow. Pack for a long trip and get some rest, I’ll see you tomorrow night” She hangs up the phone before you can respond. 

After packing your suitcase with the essentials you flop onto your bed, your body buzzes with anticipation, unsure whether it’s from anxiety or excitement. You snuggle under the blanket and fall into a restless sleep. 

You wake from your slumber, your ears twitching at the sound of another car rumbling across the dirt road. The air is frigid, and the room dark. Sleep fogs your brain as you get dressed in a black tight ribbed tank top, no bra, loose boxers, and a pair loose cargo pants with a webbing slider belt. A loud knock sounds from the front door “Yeah coming!” You yell trudging through the house. Opening the door two women in army uniform stand there waiting “Come in” you welcome them. You can smell a nervous aroma coming from the two, even under the pungent aerosol deodorant. After showing Sam, who will be staying for the time being, the animals and house routines, You and Emma take your bag and bid her goodbye. Throwing your suitcase in the back you slide into the passenger seat of the sleek SUV “Get comfortable it’s going to be a long ride”.

Back at base, Kate debriefs the TF-141 on their newest arrival, and possible permanent teammate, if all things go well. Johnny, Kyle, Simon and John all sit around a table, the TV screen in front of them shows images of a large black wolf hybrid “This is the Hound, she is a retired mercenary with a long criminal record. She is currently en route to arrive here at 1800 hours. I want you all to be on your best behaviour, she’s not overly fond of humans let alone male ones, so don’t ask any stupid questions.” Kate looks towards Johnny who throws his hands up in defense “Why ya lookin at me?” Simon next to him shoves his shoulder “Cause you always spouting out some rightful shit.” 

Johnny gawks in disbelief “I do not” He argues back. Before either of them can continue bickering John interrupts “That’s enough” he barks gruffly, “I don’t like this Kate, the last thing we need is some untrained hybrid going off the rails” She nods at his concerns “That’s exactly why she’ll be living and training on base up until the mission. She needs to recognize you and your scents as a part of her pack, and we don’t have many other options for getting you through Russia safely.” 

“Won’t her presence just piss off the local wolves more?” Kyle asks. “No, fortunately the Volt-Krov have a predominantly male population, and they’ll generally leave females to their own business. Her larger size alone should be enough of a deterrent to the local males” 

“And if they don’t leave us alone” Simon asks. Kate changes the photos on the TV, images of the black wolf hybrid litter the screen. Her figure hunched over staring at the camera with bright golden eyes, prickled fur and gnashing teeth. Blood covering her matted coat, drips from her muzzle onto the stark white snow. The photos say more than enough, and Simon nods his head. “Those photos were taken three years ago when some hunters decided to trespass on her property” 

“Did she kill them?” John stares at the images, haunting eyes staring back. “She took an arm off one and a leg off another. She showed control and precision, she let them live”

John nods thoughtfully “Well, let’s hope we can use that”.

Master List Pt. Intro - Pt. 1

AN:let me know if you guys want more of this one cause I fully forgot about and won’t write more if no one’s interested. Much Love ❤️

[starlight-shades]

Forgot to post this when I finished it a bit ago. For HigherMagic on bsky. She has dragon lore that I absolutely adore and a story over on ao3 I highly recommend about dragon!ghost and wolf!soap where they’re idiots in love and eventually start a family here.

[doodlesdreaming]

If you have anxiety, blow it up or find a safe place to catch your breath…