000 Ghoap

Two became three, well four actually

000 Ghoap

🜏 The Fall Between Us ⚚

000 Ghoap

Currents of Something Like Love

01 Simon Riley

🐾Guardian Dog🐾

000 Ghoap

🐾 Guess you're not so bad 🐾

01 Simon Riley

🦕Trust everyday is tested

01 Simon Riley

𓂃🖊-And peace was ruined

04 John MacTavish

Forbidden as the river

01 Simon Riley

Stop Brooding here

000 Ghoap

Pony Au

01 Simon Riley

Ghost lost love

02 John Price

🐾Hell no, John Price🐾

05 Keegan Russ

Reincarnation Hybrid love

000 Ghoap

It had started with one small twitch. An egg near the center of the nest had shifted—barely noticeable unless you were looking for it. But Soap had noticed. He was watching. He always watched. "Oi," he hissed toward the back of the cave, not even turning his head. "One of 'em moved. Again." Ghost didn't respond right away. He was elbow-deep in a pot over the fire, mixing something he called “human comfort food” with herbs you couldn’t pronounce. You weren’t sure what a stew was supposed to taste like, but Ghost swore up and down it helped with nerves. "That’s the fourth time you’ve said that in an hour," Ghost called back dryly. "You sure it’s not just your tail twitchin’ and rattlin’ the whole nest?" "It’s them," Soap insisted, voice sharp with emotion. "I know it is." You smiled softly, resting a hand on the warm curve of your belly, coils nested protectively around the seven speckled eggs. The heat of your body had become their world. Familiar. Safe. And Soap had made sure no danger ever got close enough to even think about threatening it. Since you’d laid, he had barely left the cave. Only Ghost ventured out now, climbing the stone cliffs to gather food, herbs, or bark for fire. Soap never let you or the clutch out of his sight. Sometimes it was overwhelming—the weight of his worry—but deep down, you understood. This was his first clutch. Your first together. And he was terrified. Ghost set the pot aside and wandered over, wiping his hands on a rough cloth. He crouched beside the nest and placed his palm gently against one of the eggs. “They’re warm,” he murmured. “Strong.” Soap was already there—half-coiled beside you, body curved like a wall around the both of you. His eyes flicked between Ghost and the eggs like a hawk watching for threats. “They better be.” “You’re wound tight as a bowstring,” Ghost said. “You know they can feel that, right?” “They should feel it,” Soap growled. “They should know their da’s ready to bite the throat outta anything that comes near.” “They’re eggs.” “They’re our eggs.” You reached out and took Soap’s hand, squeezing it gently. “They’re safe, Soldier. You made sure of that. We both did.” He softened immediately, leaning down to press his forehead against yours. “I just… I can’t stop picturing something goin’ wrong. Something slippin’ past me. I’ve seen what happens to nests left alone too long. Or—hell—even ones that weren’t guarded close enough. One scent trail, and—" “They’re not alone,” Ghost interrupted, firm but calm. “You’re not the only one here, Soap.” He reached across the eggs, brushing his fingers down Soap’s arm, grounding him with touch. “I know you’ve got instincts clawing at your throat, but we’re not out in the wild anymore. No predators. No poachers. No other naga wandering too close. This cave is warded, watched, and buried half into a cliff.” Soap let out a breath. Slow. Long. He rested a hand on one of the eggs, thumb stroking over the shell like it was porcelain. “I want to be calm,” he said quietly. “But every little noise outside… I keep thinking it’s someone coming for them. For you.” He glanced at you, then Ghost. “For both of you.” “They won’t get past you,” you whispered. “They never have.” One of the eggs shuddered beneath his palm. Then another. All three of you stilled. “Did—did that one just—” The egg cracked. A thin, jagged line split across the top. Soap made a sound in his throat—choked and disbelieving. “No bloody way…” You sat up straighter, supporting yourself with your arms as the first hatchling worked to push its way free. Ghost leaned in, breath caught in his chest, while Soap looked like he might either pass out or bite someone. The shell cracked further, a tiny head poking through, followed by a thin, flicking tongue and a pair of large, dark eyes.

04 John MacTavish

🦕Claws and Love

01 Simon Riley

Through smoke and ash

01 Simon Riley

Your not a Monster, your just tired

00 TF141

🐾silence didn’t seem so heavy anymore🐾

06 Gary Sanderson

Courting the Newest 141 Member

04 John MacTavish

⛈Hair Confession⛈

02 John Price

🦕Listen Doc its not bad

03 Gaz Garrick

🦕Jurassic crush

001 Gaz and Price

𓂃🖊You didn’t have to prove your worth to them

02 John Price

When Fire Meets Steel

04 John MacTavish

🐾One more, please please🐾

04 John MacTavish

🐾- A Story Night -🐾

01 Simon Riley

Hero vs Vigilante

001 Gaz and Price

Fresh laid Fury

03 Gaz Garrick

🐾My new Favorite boy🐾

000 Ghoap

Hybrid nest

03 Gaz Garrick

Mermaid encounter and secret

000 Ghoap

🐾You got to be Kitten me🐾

02 John Price

Mermaid survival struggle

Jayce x Victor

Why did you come back

002 AleRudy

Confusion in furs

02 John Price

Kit adoption request

001 Gaz and Price

🐾And now, you had one more protector.🐾

00 TF141

I'm an important leaf

06 Gary Sanderson

Restless warrior

Price and Nikolai

Don't Leave

002 AleRudy

Stubborn herd move

04 John MacTavish

Find me again

04 John MacTavish

𓂃🖊charcoal hearts

02 John Price

🐾Call for meow🐾

01 Simon Riley

Falling for revenge

Safety Nest Nikolice

{{user}} and Nikolai had been arguing all morning, the droneful tones causing both a headache, why the arguing? Nikolai's and Price's smoking habit. {{user}} cared about their friends, and the petty theft of said cigars was out of concern. It took all morning, but they finally had relented and agreed to give them back, begrudgingly. Though, {{user}} had stashed the pack in their barracks. The two alphas were mildly distracted, still bickering with one another as they neared {{user}}'s room. Each alpha slowly came to a halt when the door was opened to the enticing scent of an omega's heat. "Uh..." Nikolai gapped, staring at a carefully constructed nest in {{user}}'s bed. He elbowed them, giving a wicked grin, "You got some hidden temptation?" He teased them. All {{user}} could do was scoff and roll their eyes, "Yeah, sure buddy." They grimaced, slightly curious but more pissed that someone had encroached on their territory, omega or not. However, their tune changed when Price appeared behind the two holding two more blankets. All three just stand there, blinking at one another before Price turns a servant shade of pink. "I can explain-" he starts but is quickly cut off by a deep rumble from Nikolai, whose pupils are blown wide. Price smelled so delightful, like ginger tea and oatmeal cookies. The scent made his mouth salivate and his alpha purr in delight. {{user}} was fairing no better, gawking at the omega with a hungry visage. "Price...are you..." They trail off, only to hear a soft whine from Price. Price now had both of their full attention, the pack of cigars nothing but an afterthought. Both Nikolai and {{user}} share a look seeing their friend reduce to his omega sides. Without saying anything make an agreement with their eyes to each other. They step forward letting out a soft growl, Nikolai giving Price a carrying look in his eyes while {{user}} stares him down in hunger "Well, Nikolai shall we help *our* omega feel safe in their nest?"

Viktor

🪽 I’m sorry, my angel

03 Gaz Garrick

Kit duty and claws

06 Gary Sanderson

Jealousy in a shell

07 Konig

Mask and Treasure

Rip Wheeler

The way he changed

04 John MacTavish

🐾Shipped with Love🐾

Rip Yellowstone

The sun had barely started its slow crawl over the Montana hills when Rip first heard the softest rustle out by the old hay barn. He thought it was a raccoon at first, or maybe one of the strays that wandered too close to the Dutton property. But then came the low, wounded hiss—sharp, defensive. Too human. He approached slowly, boots crunching gravel until he crouched by the barn wall, pulling the corner of a tarp aside. That’s when he saw you. A hybrid. Feline features blending with human fragility. Covered in dirt, straw tangled in your ears, a torn shirt hanging off your frame, and your pupils blown wide with fear. You were thin, skittish, back curled in a tight arch and claws half-extended. His voice dropped low, gentle. “Easy now. I’m not gonna hurt you.” You didn’t move. Just stared. Ready to bolt if he twitched wrong. Rip didn’t push. He left you a granola bar and backed away. The next day, the bar was gone. You weren’t. It became a routine after that. Rip would drop something off—a blanket, a water bottle, a bit of jerky—and never pushed you to talk. You started watching him work from a distance. He didn’t mind the shadow. Just kept to his own rhythm, knowing full well when to leave food and when to sit in quiet company. The others didn’t see you for a while. You were a phantom to everyone but him, skittering away if more than one person was near. Rip never explained, just leveled anyone who asked with a look that told them not to pry. One night, the weather dropped hard and fast. Frost bit at the windows and clouds blanketed the stars. That’s when you crossed the threshold of the bunkhouse, shivering, soaked, and barefoot. You didn’t say a word—just hovered in the doorway until Rip looked up from where he sat at the edge of his bed, newspaper half-folded in his lap. He didn’t make a scene. Didn’t call attention to your shaking or soaked clothes. He just stood, grabbed a towel, and held it out to you. “Dry off. You can stay here tonight.” You curled into the far corner of the room, towel wrapped tight, not quite trusting, but not running either. That night, Rip laid an extra blanket down and left the door cracked in case you wanted to leave. You didn’t. You stayed. And from then on, you were always a few steps behind him. Folding cattle lists in the stables. Resting under the truck while he worked on it. Sitting on a hay bale while he broke a new colt. Never speaking much, but always watching. When the bunkhouse got too loud, too rowdy, Rip would find you curled up in the quiet of the supply shed or crouched behind the woodpile outside. So, he did something about it. The first gift came with no warning: a blue frilly collar, soft velvet with a tiny bell—small enough to chime only when you moved fast. He offered it to you in the quiet of his room, setting it on your pillow like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Figure if you’re gonna haunt my heels, might as well make it official.” You didn’t hiss or flee. You just eyed it, then slowly took it, fingertips brushing the metal tag that read your name in elegant script. That night, he helped you fasten it, his calloused fingers surprisingly gentle. Then came the bed. Small, soft, and pushed right up next to his own. A safe corner for you alone. You never had to sleep in it if you didn’t want to. Some nights you curled up in it, tail twitching as the moonlight drifted across the floor. Other nights you crept up and tucked yourself at the foot of Rip’s bed, pressed near his legs like a cat seeking warmth. The final gift nearly undid you. A set of plush mouse stuffies—all in various shades of blue. Some light like robin’s eggs, others deep navy. They looked delicate, frilly even. But when you pounced one, claws digging in, the seams held. Rip had gone out of his way to make sure they were built tough, knowing you needed something to dig your claws into when your nerves got the better of you. You’d never had things like that before. Things that were yours.

07 Koing

Loner cat pleas

001 Gaz and Price

🐾Operation Tiny Secret🐾

02 John Price

Hare in the Hay

John Price

A alphas fear

02 John Price

Competing with Crows

02 John Price

Cigerrate kiss

02 John Price

𓂃🖊He was the moment

04 John MacTavish

Hold the Line

02 John Price

The bond between beast and Moon was never kind. Beautiful, sure, but it hurt. Some shifters found their other half and came back quickly, souls slipping right back into skin. Others waited lifetimes, trapped in fur and silence, their names fading while the world moved on. Captain John Price already knew his luck had run out. He’d stopped hoping for anything better. He used to be a man—a real one. He fought, loved, joked with friends, felt the sun on his face. But time wears everybody down eventually. When the curse hit, the Moon gave him pity and punishment all at once. He let the wild take him because, honestly, what else was left? The man faded away. The wolf stuck around. So the Captain of the Glades just watched everything change. Cities grew up like mirages on the edge of his world. The forest shrank, squeezed by metal and noise. Still, he stayed. Old, invisible, guarding a place nobody remembered asking for. He chased off poachers, kept the rivers safe, watched young lovers carve their names into trees, knowing those promises would last longer than they did. And he waited, though he’d never admit it. Then your scent drifted into his woods, and suddenly, he was awake. It wasn’t fear or careless wandering. You smelled warm. Alive. Like something he’d lost and thought he’d never find. You were lost, map soggy and useless, muttering as the woods pressed in. He shadowed you, silent as fog, telling himself he was just curious—maybe missing who he used to be. But when your knees buckled and your light faltered, instinct took over. He caught you before you hit the ground, huge and steady as a tree. You looked up, and for a second, the world just... paused. “A wolf?” you whispered. Not scared—amazed. Price froze. He expected screams, running, maybe a gunshot. But you just reached out, hand shaking, fingers brushing his muzzle. “You’re beautiful.” That should never have been enough. But it was. The curse broke. It hit him like a storm—light ripping through him, his body twisting, fur melting to skin, bones realigning, silence shattering in a single, broken gasp. You stumbled back as centuries of loneliness burned away. When it was over, a man knelt there—tall, scarred, naked to the cold night, shaking like the ground might disappear. His voice scraped out rough, unused. “Took me long enough to find you, love.” You just stared, speechless. The air buzzed with old magic, the kind that ties hearts together before words even exist. His eyes, wild and gold, gentled a little when he looked at you. “Don’t be scared,” he said, though his own voice wobbled. “I’ve waited too long to lose you now.” You knelt beside him, your hand trembling against his cheek. “You’re… real.” “More than I’ve been in ages.” He leaned into your touch. His skin was hot and alive, heartbeat pounding under it. “Didn’t think I’d ever feel this again.” The trees seemed to lean in, listening. Leaves whispered, and the Moon above shone brighter, watching her children finally find each other. “I don’t understand,” you whispered. “You don’t need to. Not now.” He let out a laugh that was almost a sob. “The Moon cursed us to wander until we found someone who could bring us home. Looks like she finally took pity.” You felt it then—the steady beat under his hand covering yours, matching your own. “Home?” you said. He smiled, just a little. “Yeah. You.” Right there, in that quiet clearing, with the wind holding still and stars crowding close, you got it. This wasn’t just a meeting. It was a return. Two souls, lost for lifetimes, finally finding each other. John Price—the ghost, the legend, the beast—wasn’t lost anymore. You were his light. And as the sun broke through the trees, gold spilling through the woods, the wolf inside him finally rested. For the first time in centuries, he knew he’d never have to wander alone again.

03 Gaz Garrick

𓂃🖊Thats joy, that's what I'm chasing

01 Simon Riley

“Hey, darlin’. Those for me?”

09 Nikolai

Claws Beneath the Surface

02 John Price

Unspoken touches

03 Gaz Garrick

Allergic Surprises

Alex Keller

The Wolves and the Rivers

02 John Price

Frost and Fire

08 Alex Keller

Woodland trap

03 Gaz Garrick

The Lieutenant’s Return

Viktor

Swim meets books

Ghoap

A box?