#kit yips

[starsofthestorm]

yk what. shoutout to all of you therians / otherkins that arent the traditionally "pretty" or "common" animals. shoutout to all of you spiders. shoutout to all of you bugs. shoutout to all of you reptiles. shoutout to all of you rats. shoutout to all of you birds. shoutout to all of you.

and yk what? shoutout to all of you who are fictionkins. shoutout to all of you who are therians. shoutout to all of you who are otherkin at all. shoutout to all of you that are traditionally "pretty" or "common" animals. shoutout to all of you that kin characters. shoutout to all of you that kin fictional species. shoutout to all of you.

shoutout to the otherkins who dont remember their past lives. shoutout to all of your otherkins who dont experience shifts or phantom limbs. shoutout to all of you otherkins who dont do quadrobics. shoutout to all of you otherkins who dont wear gear. shoutout to all of you who are otherhearted. shoutout to all of you.

shoutout to all of you. i love you all

[piddlekit]

tonight i went outside in a tab-style diaper for the first time ever. walked a trail where i knew i was super unlikely to see anyone. my diaper felt pretty bulky when dry but i got the hang of walking in it after a little while. told myself i’d wet at the farthest point of the trail on a bridge overlooking the pretty water… listening to the water splashing made it easy to wet almost immediately. i waddled a lot more on the way home x__x

[fubukit]

Say don't bite.. but do u chomp? :0

Only love chomps for friends!

[coyotegut]

welcome to my blog!

I’m Shrike !!!

( she / they / it / pup / mutt / paw ) - ( non-binary, panromantic, asexual )

I’m a coyote, calico/tabby mainecoon and barn owl therian! I’m also a deinonychus otherkin!

Social anxiety + may have autism and/or ADHD !

This blog will have lots of reblogs !!!

I am a MINOR, please be aware of that !!

DNI: Nsfw blogs , entirely gore blogs , lgbtqphobia , anti-furry/kin , discourse or syscourse seekers , TERFs

Please be warned that there might be meat , blood , horror or flashing lights on this blog ! I will tag trigger warnings but I won’t always remember to !

All posts tagged with #shrike yips, vents tagged with #shrike whimpers

kelpiegutz -> coyotegut

[kitastra]

For the soft asks, pretty pretty please 🥰 poppy, sunkissed, & cuddles

🖤 @a-little-lynx

Poppy- Favorite pastel color?

I'd say baby blue n.n

Sunkissed- Autumn or Spring?

It's a tough choice, but I'll go with spring (winter is my favorite)

Cuddles- Any pets? I don't have any, but my partner has two dogs, a husky and a lab mix.

Thank you for the ask! n.n

[pronoun-checks]

Hello may i have a name and pronoun check with these pronouns and name, wildfyre, paw/paws/pawself, it/its/itself, mrrp/mrrps/mrrpself, yip/yips/yipself, fyre/fyres/fyreself, claw/claws/clawself, shy/hyrs/hyrself, kit/kits/kitself

Sure thing!

Wait a second, is that Wildfyre? I think I see Wildfyre over there! Do you see paw? Paw’s the one sitting by pawself with paws headphones on. I wonder what it’s listening to? You’ve met Wildfyre before, right? No? Well, you’ll have to meet it sometime; I think you’d get along nicely with it. I’ve only spoken with mrrp once or twice, but mrrp seems pretty neat. Mrrp didn’t say much about yipself, though. Oh, you don’t see yip? Yip’s the one sitting in the brown chair over there. Yup, that’s Wildfyre! I’m not sure if the bag under fyres table is fyres, though. It could belong to the table next to claw. Oh, I sure hope that bag isn’t claws, because claw is leaving without it! Do you think we should let hyr know there’s a bag under the table shy was sitting at? We should probably let hyr know, just in case it is kits bag. Looks like you’ll be able to meet Wildfyre now! Quick, let’s try and catch up with kit before kit gets too far. Hey! Wildfyre!

[coyotecreek]

Solstice beans! They're not very rufusy, surprisingly, but that may change as they get older. Even Solstice wasn't super red when I got her as a kit. That developed later when she grew in her intermediate coat, and got even darker with the adult coat.

[starsofthestorm]

i will never, ever, ever, ever get over just how much i fucking HATE, HATE, HATE, HATE fox and other canine sterotypes, especially wolf (and fox ofc)

foxes, mostly because of warrior cats, are viewed as these MASSIVE, TOWERING BEASTS that are bloodthirsty and constantly violent and kill everything in sight.

they are not much bigger than cats btw. they are EXTREMELY skittish and are only aggressive when provoked or when they or their kits are threatened.

they also arent FUCKING STUPID. they arent going to charge headfirst at a group of like 5 adult cats. thats literally death. a lone cat? maybe, if theyre hungry. cats are fast, have sharp claws, and will certainly hold their own against a fox.

lone apprentice? solid probably / maybe, depends on age.

lone kit? absolutely, thats literally just free food dude

dont even get me started on wolves. they are seen as these horrible, cruel, bloodthirsy, violent, aggressive beasts and they are some of the cutest, sweetest little creatures ive ever seen they are SO, SO silly,,

they arent that aggressive, they dont go out of their way to attack humans, and just like most animals- theyre afraid of us !! we are bigger and have huge, scary machines. we have the ability to crush their homes, their families, their territories without even a thought.

i hate it SO SO SO MUCH. i hate it more than anything. esp as a fox therian !!!!

[piddlekit]

going to my first abdl event tomorrow… really excited ;-;

[fubukit]

Dealing with bad anhedonia as an artist. Not good

[coyotegut]

got the zoomies but no roomies

[diejager]

Hiii，I really like your story about Ghost x bunny！reader.Can you please do moreee🥺🥺🥺💖🐰

Needy Bunny Cw: heat/mating cycle, breeding kink, rough sex, mating press, doggy style, unprotected sex, PinV, tell me if I missed any.

You clawed at the sheets, hips bucking back, rutting against the heated palm of his scarred and calloused hand, fingers filling you so well. Your bed smelled like him, something familiar you associated with comfort and safety, gorging on his rich and powerful scent. He smelled like blood and gunpowder, itching you sensitive nose, and the soft tone of something woody —an addictive bourbon and calm sandalwood.

You crooned softly, burying your face deeper into his many shirts, mask and blanket, all infused with his aged scent and sweat, masking you in his scent, drowning in the delicious smell of him. You were clouded by a primal need, to be bred and nurse little kits in your stomach, you didn’t have any sensible thought inside your head, all you wanted was to smell like Ghost and bear his kits by becoming his.

When thrown into the throes of your heat - vicious and unforgiving - you became dumb and needy, wandering the halls of the base for Ghost and pawing at him until he brought you to his room. The moment he closed and locked the door, you were naked and kneeling on his bed, face down on his pillow, drooling over the musky cloth and ass up, showing him how wet and needy you were, cunt winking and clit throbbing from the cool air in his room —it helped with the warmth you exhumed from your heat, body burning so much calories to sustain you during it.

You were deaf to Ghost’s degrading words, uncaring by how mean his words were or how rough he was, all that mattered was that he was using you, his fingers straight as they drove in, hitting your g-spot. Slick dripped from his wrist, your sweet cunt oozing it, transparent and salty fluid tasting sugary on his tongue, his mask rolled up his nose to press the flat of his tongue against your twitching nub, swirling around it wile he pumped you with three, thick fingers.

You whined when he pulled out his fingers, tongue pushing into your hole and slurping down your slick, swallowing your sweet cum in gulps. He drank up your little mewls, sound more like a cat than a bunny, his hand roved over your thighs and around the swell of your ass, spanked red from acting like a little whore in front of other men, and grabbed your snowball-like tail, harshly pulling on it to get a reaction out of you. You yipped loudly, back arching and trying to get out of his tight hold on your sensitive tail, the twitching ball stuck between his fingers even as he pressed the round head of his cock against your clenching hole, tip nudging your entrance —teasing you.

“Please-” you wailed, sobbing for relief you knew that only he could give you, something to fill you up and keep you full until this heat passed. “Ghost, please-”

He kept you still, one hand on your hip and the other still tugging at your tail, he drove in with a sharp snap, thrusting his whole length in one, rough go that had you keening, loud, whorish sounds slipping from your tongue as your eyes rolled back, walls squeezing him as you came. He was warm, cock snugly sitting inside of you, he was as heavy as he was thick, the girth covered in veins and the base in trimmed, musky hair.

He took a few experimental thrusts, rough and unsteady, before he bottomed out completely, heavy balls slapping your engorged clit. Ghost set deep and hard pace, his sculpted hips snapping against your sensitive ass, using his grip on you to hold the pace, plunging in, the leaky tip of his uncut cock slamming into your spongy cervix, veins scratching at your clenching walls, frenum piercings, three starting from the base up rubbing you deliciously.

With how high stung you were, body shuddering and cunt spamming with another upcoming climax, it didn’t take you long before you came a second time. Bursting with a cry, legs kicking and trembling beneath you, you bucked your hips against him, pushing him deeper into you. You were squirming so much so that he had to turn you over, manhandling you from your presented position to a mating press, bent in half with your legs hanging from his broad shoulders, taking him again and again - even as you came twice or thrice, coating him in your juice, his navel and balls wet down to his thighs - until he had his fill.

“You want a kit, is that it?” He growled, forearm pressing down on your throat without putting any lethal force, simply to hold you down, to keep you restrained to your nest, “Don’t worry, bunny, I’ll knock you up, yeah? Put a little rabbit in that cunt of yours, breed you nice and deep.”

Taglist: @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @tallmanlover @distracteddragoness @vxnilla-hxrddrugs @konigsblog @havoc973 @im-making-an-effort @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan

[solarmorrigan]

Howling for You

For the @steddie-spooktober day 9 prompt: Werewolf Rating: T | Words: 1405 | CW: brief, vague descriptions of gore? (werewolf transformation) | Tags: established relationship, werewolf Steve Harrington, Eddie Munson loves Steve Harrington, Steve Harrington loves Eddie Munson, fluff, a little hurt/comfort Divider credit: @steddiecameraroll-graphics

This is… unexpected.

The thing is, Steve always tells Eddie to stay safe during the full moon. To stay away from Steve and just let him have his run in the woods. He’d never be able to live with himself if he hurt Eddie.

So Eddie stays inside. He doesn’t go out, no matter how curious he is (his boyfriend is a werewolf, and he doesn’t even get to see his wolf form? Criminally unfair) and no matter how mournful and lonely the faint howls sound in the woods. For once, Eddie actually obeys instructions.

Except– except for this time, when he realizes that Steve’s forgotten to take his post-transformation care kit out with him (fresh clothes, a bottle of water, ibuprofen, wet wipes for the worst of the mess). He doesn’t want Steve to be without—to do some kind of werewolf walk of shame in day-old clothes while covered in grime and who knows what else—and he figures he has time. The moon is barely in the sky, and Steve hadn’t left too long ago. Surely Eddie still has time.

(Spoiler: he does not.)

Eddie doesn’t manage to find Steve in the end, stumbling around in the dark woods, realizing that he has no idea where Steve goes to have his transformation. Instead, Steve finds Eddie.

And look, Eddie is only human. When confronted with a wolf easily twice his size, bright hazel eyes (familiar, but not Quite Right) flashing in the moonlight, sharply-clawed paws carrying him closer and closer at an alarming speed, it doesn’t matter how much he knows Steve loves him – Eddie assumes he’s about to die.

He drops the care package, wonders if he has time to run, wonders if he can even make his body move well enough to run at all, wonders if maybe playing dead would work – and that’s when the unexpected happens.

Steve– the wolf?– no, Steve, lets out a yip that wouldn’t be out of place coming from an excited puppy, galumphs forwards, tackles Eddie, and then… lies down on his chest.

His head is the size of Eddie’s torso, his large, wet nose resting just beneath Eddie’s chin, and he just lies there, looking up at Eddie with wide eyes and sort of wiggling against him. When Eddie cranes his head to look around Steve, he realizes it’s because he’s wagging his tail so hard that his whole body is shaking with it.

“Uh… Steve?” Eddie hazards.

He isn’t sure how himself Steve is in this state. Steve’s made it sound like the wolf takes over and his human consciousness takes a backseat, made it sound like he’s dangerous, but from where Eddie’s lying, he seems – well, not harmless, but certainly friendly.

Steve whuffs at him, and Eddie can feel the sound reverberate through his whole chest.

“Are you– do you know me?” Eddie asks.

In response, Steve opens his mouth—and yep, those are teeth. Very large, sharp teeth—lets his tongue loll out, and licks Eddie.

It’s… an experience.

He wiggles his way a little further up Eddie’s body after that, nearly knocking the wind out of Eddie, and wuffles his huge, cold nose right up under Eddie’s ear. His breath ruffles Eddie’s hair, and Eddie can’t help his immediate reaction to try to push Steve’s head away.

“Hey, hey, that – shit, that tickles!” he gasps, laughing a little as Steve lifts his head.

He whines at Eddie, his ears folded back, and fixes him with the biggest set of puppy dog eyes that Eddie’s ever seen. He can’t help his immediate reaction then, either.

He brings his hands up, stroking over Steve’s fur, seeking out a spot behind his ear to scratch, shushing him. His fur is thick, a little coarse on top and addictively plush and soft underneath, and it figures that Steve has good hair no matter what form he’s in.

“Dangerous, my ass,” Eddie mutters as Steve settles back in against him with a happy grumble. “You’re not dangerous, are you, sweetheart? No, you’re just a big ol’ puppy.”

It’s at that moment that Steve’s ears prick forward, his whole body tensing in alert. He stands up, towering over Eddie’s prone form, a growl rolling low in his chest, and a thrill of primal fear shudders down Eddie’s spine.

The growl doesn’t seem to be directed at him, though. Instead, Steve steps right over Eddie, intent on something making noise in the trees just at the edge of the clearing. His fur stands up as he tenses, coils, and then pounces into the trees in one powerful leap.

“Okay,” Eddie says, still lying, dazed, on the ground, “maybe a little dangerous.”

He isn’t quite sure what to do with himself now that Steve’s gone. Should he go back to the house? Should he wait? Something in him worries that Steve will be sad if Eddie leaves now (and something else in him worries that Steve in Hunting Mode won’t differentiate between him and any other prey, if he should go wandering in the woods), so he decides to set up in the clearing and wait.

Steve isn’t gone long. He comes back licking his chops and looking, somehow, very satisfied with himself. He yips again to see Eddie sitting up against a tree, excitement taking over his full form as he bounds over and flumps down on the ground in front of him. He rolls over, and Eddie can’t help but laugh.

“You want your belly rubbed?” he asks, sitting forward.

Steve whuffs at him, wiggling a little, his tail wagging as best it can against the ground, and Eddie isn’t rude enough to deny such a polite request. He sits up on his knees and applies both hands to the task, and he gets to find out what joy looks like on a werewolf.

It’s pretty good.

The night carries on like that; Steve will occasionally bound off into the trees, chasing a noise or a movement, but he always comes back to Eddie, sweet and gentle and playful in his movements. Eddie’s watch tells him it’s three a. m. by the time he starts to flag. The adrenalin rush at the beginning of the night had been enough to keep him going for a while, but he does need to sleep eventually, unlike certain beasts he could name.

Still, once Steve clocks Eddie’s continued yawning, he sits and curls up beside Eddie, nudging at him with his enormous head until Eddie gets the picture and lies back into the curve of Steve’s body.

There, cradled in warmth and security, Eddie falls asleep before he knows it.

His awakening is rude. He finds himself jostled to the ground with the morning’s first rays of sun in his eyes, and it takes him a moment to remember just where he is and why, but then he’s jolting upwards, trying to scramble up off his ass and find Steve.

He doesn’t have far to look; Steve hasn’t gone, he’s standing in the center of the clearing, tense and ready, as the dawn washes over him.

And then he changes.

It’s horrifying. Eddie has never heard a bone break before, and now he’s heard it in stereo. The snap of muscle and skin pulling back into place is sickening, and yet it’s all nothing compared to the noise coming from Steve’s throat.

The panicked, pained whine of a wounded animal morphs and changes in pitch until it’s Steve’s voice, ringing through the clearing in a final, agonized scream that echoes for long moments after he’s stopped making noise.

He sways, falls to his knees, and then Eddie is right there in front of him, gathering him close to his chest, holding him as Steve nuzzles tiredly into the crook of Eddie’s neck.

“I didn’ hurt you,” he slurs out, trying to cuddle in closer.

Eddie wraps his arms more tightly around him. “You didn’t hurt me,” he confirms. “Not a bit.”

Steve hums, eyes shut as he lets himself be held, be comforted in a way he never has been after his moonlight jaunts. “I think… I could smell you,” he says after a long moment, more of an exhausted, half-formed thought than a full hypothesis.

“Yeah?” Eddie asks anyway. “What did I smell like?”

Steve lifts his head, nosing up into the spot just behind Eddie’s ear, much as he had just a few hours ago.

“Home.”

[multi-fandom-imagine]

I can imagine a tired dad Husk with his three little kits clinging onto him. Like their claws are embedded in his fur and they’re looking at him with them big ol eyes. Their claws hurt but goddamnit he’ll tolerate it just to make them happy

A/n: HELP! THIS IS SO FUCKING CUTE.

Was he tired? Yes, of course he was fucking tired. He was exhausted. If his kits weren't clinging to you then they were clinging to him.

He wasn't mad at that fact of course, how could he ever be mad at his adorable little kids. He just wished that it didn't hurt so much.

His two son's were clinging desperately to his back as they let out tiny little chirps. One, he didn't know which was starting to climb up his back. One tiny little talon sinking into his wing. Husk tensing as a deep hiss escaped his throat.

"Careful..." trying not to scold his son, his paw came up to his chest to cradle his daughter. Her big eyes looking up at him. Despite how much it hurt he couldn't complain. Not when he had the love of his kits.

Besides, you always found away to take care of him, to make him feel good.

"Come on, let's go see your ma! Your little eye's isn't gonna affect me. You three need to sleep."

A choir of yips echoed around him, their tiny little claws sinking deeper into him as they buried themselves into his fur.

"Ya, ya, I hear ya."

Hearing a small giggle, he craned his neck nearly groaning deeply as he spotted you. "What are you giggling about."

Humming, you shrugged your shoulders stepping close to Husk. "Just the cutest thing in hell."

Rolling his eyes, Husk adverted your gaze as he kept a grin on his face. "Hmp...the only cute things are you and the kits."

"Well that we can agree on."

[icarusredwings]

Thinking about Wade coming home to find Logan taking a nap with all of his adopted daughters who are most certianly whole grown ups by now, Like Yukio, Laura, Rouge, and Jubilee as well as Mary Puppins.

And you know what? It's the happiest nap he's ever had but also highly stressed out when they leave. Wolverine fathers usually don't stay with their kits, but obviously, he's an exception, individually snuggling them all only to instantly sit up, claws drawn the second the door opens and he gets a knife to the head.

"Hey do you guys-... OUCH...Rude."

And Yukio is like, "oopsies." But Logan just gives her an approving nod and a "good one, kid."

"Well, fine. No burritos for you then. Jeez."

Between sparing with them and hearing, "You haven't changed a bit, huh?" 4 different times, him giving Laura a scratch on the scalp in which she almost cries because that's the exact spot her dad used to do it, Yukio telling him stories about Wade and Negasonic, and Jubilee and Rouge talking in their own slangs while hugging him (and yet... somehow, he can understand them. It's weird. Like he just autoamtically gets their accents and odd words.) Everything is almost perfect. About as perfect as you can be with 6 different mutants in one tiny appartment.

Al isn't really sure what's happening this entire day, but enjoys the company and knows for a fact that these girls have Logan absolutely trained, correcting his manners and his language, telling stories from way back when, stories about their current lives, makes him eat real food not just liquor. Etc.

But when they leave, She can hear him pacing the apparent like a stressed-out tiger, back and forth, back and forth.

"Why did you lie?" She asks, and he stops and is like,"What? I didn't - " She smiles and goes. "You told them you'd be fine, and now you're making a new path in my floors."

"I dont know okay!?" But he does know. Oh he knows so much but he doesn't know how to describe it on an emotional level. He misses them already, he misses having something to protect, what if they get hurt without him? What if- but Puppins comes over and yips at him. Its time for her walk.

This is when Logan realizes that the others are strong enough to take care of themsleves, that hes trained them too. Well.. or at least a different version of him did. But puppins didn't. Puppins needs him. And will forever. This idea alone brings him great comfort, but he still invites his daughters over as much as possible and visibly gets upset if they say they're too busy. It was hard enough getting them together in the first place. Everybody say thank you, Wade, for making those calls since Mr. Manly man was too emotionally distant and embarrassed to do it.

Welcome to dad life, Logan. It's a hell of a ride.