#too animalistic

[wormedrabidnerd]

"He has matured and would never do this again without thinking how it could affect others" and "He should tweak cuz he has the right to after all the shit he went through" are two things that can coexist tbh

I need “Hikaru” to start tweaking like this again btw. “No he won’t because he has matured as an individual now” blah blah idc I want him to kill someone 😒

[otiksimr]

Not all legendary pokemon are highly intelligent, Yveltal for example are akin to regular wild animals. Acting on instinct.

Xerneas, however are one of the more highly intelligent Legendaries. And they really do earn their status as a 'Legendary' as far as they've been researched only two have been found, one in Kalos and the other in the opposite side of the world. Xerneas are highly sociable, they tend to seek out populated areas and tend to be tolerant to human presence.

Xerneas are seemingly fond of their destructive counterpart- as they have been seen picking out 'Brood Parasites' out of their nests. Yveltal tend to linger around areas where a Xerneas is present too, mainly due to the fact that they practically expel an extreme amount of life energy which the Yveltal feed on.

[bunnieswithknives]

RAHHHh ok comics done I can post this now!!! He is having the worst possible time

[matchamiko]

I think Bokuto is so intense and needy in bed. In a skinship, desperate to kiss you, hold you, touch you kinda way.

His favourite position is with you in top so you can wrap your forearms around his thick, bulging shoulders and bury your head in his throat. Chest to chest, his lips on your hair line or whimpering into your ear, his arms magnetised around your waist, hands spanning your back to under your arms, just shy of your breasts. Every part of you is always touching, bellies clenching and flexing against one another, thighs slipping and sliding from sweat and slick. His pubes mash against your clit with every grind, every pulse of his hips into yours.

And Bokuto whines, he huffs and tells you he loves you, loves your pussy and your eyes and your tits and the way you cum so messy and teary. Face scrunched in pain when you dig your nails into his skin, louder and messier with every milking clench of your cunt. Nd he’s hiccuping his way through his orgasm, pleading and promising and trying to bury himself deep in your soul, curl into your chest and the cavern of your loins. Bokuto just loves and loves and loves when there’s no space between the two of you, hearts beating as one and breaths mingling between your open mouths .

[merakiui]

Bro. Vargas can get it! And Crewel, too! I'd let that mf use my mouth as an ashtray. I need that man to whip me. WHIP.ME.PLEASE

D1 masochist over here! The way I'd be choking on that dickk. Imagine him saying "down girl" while he as you ass up in the air

*exit stage right*

c c ccc c c cc ccc c c ccccccc CREWEL!!!!!!!!! OTL

I am so unwell about him,,, please come back, anon!!! Speak your Crewel truth!!!! <3 oh, to be the disobedient pup he keeps in a human-sized cage...... training you to be good but only using methods that trainers use on dogs.... putting a pretty collar around your neck, making you eat and drink from dog bowls, the sadistic pet play.......... AAAAAAAAAAAAA. Imagine riding him and he's tugging at your leash. You cum when he tells you to, not on your own. A good dog knows not to be so needlessly messy. >:( he's so fine omg,,,, I need him carnally.

That voice line he has about how he drove up North for the winter holiday and spent his time enjoying hot apple cinnamon cider..... I NEED HIM RIGHT NOW!!!!!!! orz orz imagine vacationing in the snowy mountains with Crewel. Sex in front of the fireplace,,, suddenly I'm no better than a dog, always barking for him. >_<

[fuumiku]

Who’s taking who too lightly now? Playfighting my beloved

Rabbit Marcille and stoat Chilchuck, yay for rabbitstoat au, for no reason for funsies! This is here that I reveal humanoid monsters are my top favorite thing to draw actually. I really like centaur Marcille x satyr Chilchuck so this is kinda in the same vein~ I was gonna do weasel Chil at first but then friendo said a stoat’s personality fits him more and I said yes chief I trust you w my life. Speaking of, my own Chil stoat-sphinx design is partially inspired by said friend’s here!

Chilchuck playfighting and trying to "teach her a lesson" bc she's not taking him seriously so he pounces on her and pins her down but she's just giggling and smiling and beaming and suddenly she’s bigger too she’s not just a ball of fluff all stretched and it all makes him feel a little something. Chil wanting to get back at her for her teasing but he can’t go too hard on the threatening bc he’ll want to pounce on her one way or another if he gets too caught up in it whooops 💞 Timeless marchil staple, put that man in situations

Smaller predator x bigger prey animal is very fun, thank you lucky-fy’s dunmeshi beastars au for making me think of them that way… It adds to it I think, that sort of "well even if I do want you you’re out of reach" bc like even if the predator does manage to kill it it’d have a hard time eating it all right away and idk idk…. It’s that "No. No she’s offlimits" he says at himself bc ‘it wouldn’t work out’ even if it feels right… The sort of going against nature in both that they wouldn’t want to kill each other and that the dynamic shouldn’t be going this way around, and that despite everything pointing to how they shouldn’t be able to work out they can still make their relationship into what they want it to be. -gestures- Metaphors. Well sorta gdbdga in this AU I just think about them frolicking in the fields on sunny days then having tension once in a blue moon and that’s it lmao. "I can’t return your feelings because I’d only hurt you in the long run" "🧍‍♀️bruh be for real". Chilchuck guilt & longing meanwhile Marcille is just chilling having the time of her life, either blissfully unaware or just waiting for him to get his head out of his ass

It’s like how Chilchuck is so tall for a half-foot, within half-foot circles he has no problem being seen as very much a man and a rather well-ofd handsome one at that, but as soon as it’s with other races the dynamic is completely changed and he’s kinda stripped of that aspect of himself in social dynamics. No weasel or mouse would belittle the graveness of a stoat as a predator but wolves and foxes and hawks may laugh at them yk what I mean. Sighh sigh sigh sigh. Them. He’s her rotten soldier, her sweet cheese, her good-time boy

Making their way in the dungeon like "you see this shit Chilchuck?"

[foursaints]

rosekiller nsfw hc?

i've said this in these exact words before, but i think rosekiller is constantly doing daddy kink stuff in an an insane faux-pederastic psychosexual freudian way where barty is working through his childhood trauma by perving on evan’s innocent virginal fragility!! 

barty is inherently predatory to me. he wants to call himself daddy, and sit evan on his lap under the guise of helping him study, and make evan feel confused & embarrassed over the ways his body reacts when barty plays with him, then act like he doesn’t know what he’s doing. ("hold still, bunny. let me touch you in that place that makes you feel funny…" <- type beat) 

the power imbalance doesn’t REALLY exist because they’re both equals (and the same age) but barty is just operating on insane dialectics at any given moment. he treats evan like he’s the sweetest most precious thing in the world, but also like he can’t help breaking him, like it’s an accident. like evan is his Little Wife.

barty will pant and drool and ramble in evan’s ear about how perfect he is, how barty’s going to treat him so nicely, take care of him so gently— all while he’s fucking him like he’s legit trying to kill him. he’ll force his cock inside ROUGH and then coo about how easily evan fits him (while evan is still struggling to adjust to half of it). he’ll get off on evan’s obvious inexperience, carefully teach him how to spread his legs, and then tell evan he KNOWS he’s a liar— he’ll accuse him of playing innocent, tell him there’s no use pretending like his pretty cunt hasn’t been touched before, and mock him every time he gets tighter as “proof” <- guy who is SO LEGITIMATELY CRAZY

barty just always wants to send evan teeter-tottering back to their dorms, sticky between his legs, eyes blown wide in bewilderment.

[bibuckagenda]

Buddie au where werewolves are a thing and integrated into society so much that when Eddie joins the 118 and there’s a huffy wolf on the team, he thinks nothing of it. The wolf doesn’t seem to like him at first, but eventually warms up to him. He’s a little surprised he never seems to take his human form, but there are regulations in place exactly for this, and the wolf, Buck, is a great partner regardless.

And then after some time passes Eddie arrives for work one day and is immediately sat upon by the most gorgeous man he has ever seen. The man is smiling at him blue eyes and it’s his birthmark, the one he remembers marking fur, that gives away that this is Buck.

He talkative and loves to share facts and Eddie can practically see his tail wagging every time Eddie laughs.

Eddie falls hard and fast, but there are multiple issues in the way. Eddie has a kid he’s told no one about, he’s still married to Shannon, and he’s not exactly human himself.

[chimerafeathers]

[ on youtube ]

a concept for the type of OP i'd love to see for the second season of Dungeon Meshi! both s1 OPs are great, but i'm really hoping for one that captures both the "dangerous fantasy adventure" and "comedic cooking adventure" aspects of the series in equal measure, because it's the integration of those two concepts that makes the series special to me. the joyous whimsy and the dramatic horrors are equally important!!

[system-architect]

saw ppl debating if asura are furries (my favorite silly gw2 argument) and i DO consider asura furries actually but in a really specific way. this is my vision:

[thedreadvampy]

The thing is. Bad/gross food is rarely a DISH - when food is bad it's because it's been badly made, whether because of skills or available ingredients. but a dish p much only exists recognisably and has a name because someone likes at least one version of it.

which is to say. there isn't really a way of naming a dish, school of dishes or specific food culture and going EW ISN'T THIS DISH UNILATERALLY CONCEPTUALLY DISGUSTING without denigrating quite a lot of people.

like you don't have to like it in any form. but it's eaten and shared because it's good to a not insubstantial number of people when cooked right.

(and I don't really understand how you approach that with total incuriosity when it's a dish you haven't tried like. ARE rocky mountain oysters good? Maybe! I would very much eat some to find out!!!!)

this is actually something the British food poll did in a way the American ones I've seen haven't really - they described how the food they're imagining is, specifically, badly prepared (grey meat and veggies; unseasoned shepherd's pie). which is wildly tipping the scales by calling it British Food but. like. that is an on point definition of why that food is gross.

(this also applies to American chocolate, which like. Broad category but I think most of us understand this refers to low-cocoa high-sugar chocolate, probably with bucolic acid. so we are being invited to imagine Badly Made Chocolate not. the concept of chocolate)

personally I just think it's very rarely a good or funny idea to shittalk how gross any given food culture is. partly because food is important and culturally evocative for most people, partly because it's very...alienating? to be like WHO COULD EAT SUCH A THING? just because you wouldn't, and largely because to be frank it says more about you than about the food that you have so little imagination or curiosity that you can't imagine why a food might be enjoyable to folks who aren't you.

yes this includes jello salad, I would like to try it. ONCE. if it wasn't appealing to someone it wouldn't be so widespread.

[deeranon]

Dangers and Dragons | BNHA/MHA X animalistic!reader

Summary: not all quirks are blessings. Especially when they make you want to attack your friends and tear your enemies to literal shreds. Yet, where did it all start?

Chapter 1 | The domino effect

Dragons: mythical creatures of legend.

In literature, dragons are often depicted as mindless beasts bent on destruction and killing, or merely as glorified mounts for humans. It's rare to find works of fiction that portray dragons as intelligent creatures.

This, however, was the real world—a world divided between those with quirks and the quirkless. To you, dragons were everything, because you were a dragon. Or rather, in the eyes of non-dragon people, you were someone who could transform into a dragon. You didn't fault them for this distinction. In an era where quirks could manifest in countless ways, it was challenging to discern where "person" ended and "quirk" began.

Not to you though.

You were different. You knew it. They didn’t.

They were lucky. You didn’t know if you were.

After all, to turn into something imaginary you first had to take pieces of things that already existed and then mold them into what was once pure imagination until it was something all its own.

Whenever you transformed, the world changed. Your thoughts, your perceptions—all of it was different. Especially words. They always meant more than one thing because they just could.

Your mother wasn’t just your mother, she was all of these smells mixed together that made her unique. She was motherloveunderstandinghomesafety.

And your father wasn’t just your father, he was lovingfatherhomeprotection. He smelled like dreams.

And you were you. You were one with the air and the forest was yoursyoursyours and your friends were funnylovingstronggood and you should protectkeepsafesave.

When you were young, you saw nothing wrong with the way you thought or how sometimes the voles in the field looked appetizing and it would just be so easy to dig them out and bite into their throats until they went limp.

That is, until you almost lost yourself to the beast at the age of seven and nearly tore a robber’s arm off because he smelled of dangerironbadhurtothers and he was not allowed to trespass on what was yoursyoursyours.

The man dressed in black let out a blood-curdling scream, his fiery red eyes widening with such intense fear that his pupils contracted to mere pinpoints. His right arm, now slick with a vibrant crimson coating, was clutched tightly against his chest. Meanwhile, his other hand frantically scrabbled across the wooden floorboards, desperately seeking the broken knife that lay just out of reach. The rich, dark liquid pooled around him, seeping into the porous wood grain with an almost eager intensity.

You stood there, your draconic features set in a perplexed pout. Your muzzle, now stained a deep, dark burgundy, glistened in the dim light. The concept of his terror eluded you completely. After all, in your mind, he was unequivocally the antagonist - the villain of this scenario.

Your young mind conjured images from the television shows you'd watched. Villains were supposed to be larger than life characters, cackling maniacally as they boasted about their latest nefarious schemes. They were meant to be relentless in their pursuit of evil, determined to the very end. They certainly weren't supposed to cower and whimper like the pathetic human before you. In your limited understanding, villains simply did not experience fear.

Curiosity piqued, you took a deliberate step forward. Your razor-sharp claws sank into the viscous pool of blood with a squelch. The sound seemed to trigger something primal in the man, for he let out an even louder scream, his entire body now wracked with violent tremors.

Suddenly, the tense silence was shattered by the crisp sound of breaking porcelain. In a last-ditch effort of self-preservation, the burglar had seized your father's prized vase and hurled it in your direction. The delicate object smashed against the floor, scattering shards across the room as the man desperately pushed himself further against the living room wall. A trail of crimson followed his movements, painting a macabre path across the floor.

Undeterred, you continued your approach. In your childlike innocence, you chastised him for potentially staining the rug your mother had so recently cleaned. You even expressed concern about your father's reaction to the broken vase upon their return from their dinner date, which you expected at any moment.

"G-G-GET A-W-WAY! S-STAY BACK!" The red-eyed man's voice rose to a feverish pitch, the volume causing you to wince in discomfort. The disconnect between your perception and reality widened further. In your mind, you were simply engaging in conversation. The fact that your words emerged as menacing growls and snarls completely escaped your young, dragon-shaped consciousness.

To him, you weren’t speaking Japanese. All the man could hear was your angry growls and snarls as you encroached on him like a leopard stalking it’s prey. His eyes darted around frantically, searching for an escape.

The washing room had a door connected to the outside…if he could get past you then he would make it out of here with his life!

You took another step forward, blood squelching underneath you as you prowled towards him.

All of the man’s thoughts of escape died immediately. The you were no bigger than a Doberman, yet had teeth and claws sharper than knives. Also, you had wings. Wings. He couldn’t outrun a monster with wings!

The man waved the broken knife around your face, making you lean back. Mama always said that knives were dangerous and not to be played with.

But you were a dragon. Knives could not hurt you. Let’s end this before mothersafetylove and fatherprotectionhome get back.

Yes. That was a good idea! Beat the villain up just like the heroes on TV! That will teach him not to mess with your family!

Just like the heroes on TV. Don’t let him get away.

You wouldn’t let him get away! This robber was going down!

Once and for all.

You crouched low to the blood soaked floor, tail swaying behind you as you prepared to jump. You’d leap onto the man’s head and knock him unconscious in one fell swoop!

More than unconscious.

You’d be a hero!

You would always be a dragon.

You would always protect what is only yoursyoursyours.

No matter what it takes.

The man looked at you, teary eyes wide with a fear ingrained in all living beings: the knowledge that death was near. The brownish-black hair peeking out of his mask was sticky with dried blood. “I-I-I SAID STAY BACK!” he shrieked, dropping the shattered knife as he quaked.

You ignored the terrified man’s wail, ready to lunge at him when there was a click.

The front door opened, revealing your parents.

You stopped in place. The man let out a relieved sob.

Mama let out a choked gasp, her outfit stained as she rushed to pick you up and hold you away from the bloodied and sobbing burglar. Her eyes were so wide they resembled saucers, she never let her gaze leave you. She turned your head this way and that, trembling at the sight of blood that wasn’t yours while looking for injuries. You had none.

Papa already had a phone to his ear, voice hoarse as he called for heroes. It wouldn’t be long before sirens started to wail outside of your house as heroes took over the scene.

As you looked between your parents, you noticed something. They didn’t let you out of their sight. Never looking at the villain who broke in. Not even once.

You looked up at them, scales dried with a man’s blood while pressed against Mama’s favorite outfit, and saw the distrust in their eyes. The fear. Both directed at you.

For the first time since you got your quirk, you realized that maybe being a dragon wasn’t as cool as you thought.

You lowered your bloody head in shame, cowering against your mother for even a sliver of reassurance. You didn’t know what you did wrong, but you knew you probably did something bad.

You were a hero….right?

Letting the dragon do whatever made people scared, you had realized at a mere seven years of age. Humanity had looked at you funny when you once talked about how fun it might be to chase down foxes in the fields or attack pigeons sleeping on rooftops because all it wanted to do was funplaydowhatevereatplayplayplay.

You realized the looks now. You would never be able to forget them. So, you vowed to never transform again. Not if you could help it.

It hurt not being able shift. The other children at school always thought you were awesome and cool and a thousand other things when you were large and scaly and you. You were a child and nothing really mattered more than who wanted to play with you, what you were having for lunch, and apparently the most important factor— what your quirk was.

Who you were allowed to play with depended on how cool the other first graders thought your quirk was, because the quirkless were boring and weak. At least, that’s when everyone else said. You didn’t think quirks mattered very much. It didn’t matter what they looked like or what their quirk was, to you, if a classmate was a jerk—they were simply that. A big jerky jerk. It was totally not related to their smell connecting to their personality whatsoever. No—you are imagining things.

Your popularity had dwindled slightly when you refused to carry the other kids in your class around on your back during recess, but you didn’t care. You tried not to care, at least.

It was for the greater good, your little seven year old mind had repeated when you sat with a smaller group of friends at lunch than you had before.

You still cried about it in the security of your parents car when they picked you up.

After the robber incident and the other children at school becoming too much for you, your parents decided to homeschool you. You didn’t mind this change, and they always joked that it saved the planet from a little more car emission.

It was during one fall morning that everything that could possibly go wrong went wrong for you.

Mama was in the kitchen with you, cutting both your sandwiches into hearts while you peeled the oranges. You hummed a catchy tune you once heard on the antique radio your mother often uses, blissfully unaware of the havoc about to befall you.

Mama called out your name, “Why don’t you start molding the onigiri? Then papa can take them to work!” She cooed, the frills behind her ears shifting to a soft lavender as they gently trembled.

You looked up at her with an excited nod. "Kay!" you sang happily. Then you turned, hopped off your stool, and dragged it over to the sink to wash the orange peels from under your fingernails. Just like you were taught.

As you finished washing your hands, you noticed a strange tingling sensation in your fingers. At first, you dismissed it as nothing more than the cold water's effect, but the feeling intensified. Suddenly, your vision blurred, and you felt a horrible itchy feeling starting to spread across your head in waves until it morphed into a constant pain. You cried out for your mother, tears gathering in your eyes as you kneeled to the ground in pain. The itching only intensified, and the world became a blur of color.

Faintly, like your mind had been ripped from your body and was only left with a dull sensation, you could feel your mother wrapping her arms around you and pulling you into her lap.

You tried to tell her it hurt, but all that escaped your throat was a mangled sob as the pain increased tenfold. Stars exploded across your vision in a kaleidoscope of colors. Your tiny hands tugged at your head desperately, as if it would make the pain stop even for a moment. It did not. Something large and soft grabbed your hands in their own, guiding them to wrap around what you guessed were your mother’s shoulders. You held her as tightly as you could, tears streaming down your face and wailing until you lost your voice.

You both sat on the kitchen floor for what felt like ages, motionless until the pain subsided, leaving only a dull headache as a reminder. The food remained untouched, the onigiri unmolded.

Your mother brushed her hand through your hair, whispering a lullaby that lulled you into a drowsy state. As she traced her fingers along your scalp, her confusion grew. When you were hovering between sleep and wakefulness, she felt it again—her hand pausing at the sides of your head.

Small bumps had appeared on each side, barely covered by a layer of skin.

You had begun growing horns.

You were hospitalized when your tail began to grow, nearly a year after your horns started showing. The initial pain was excruciating—so severe that you were ready to knock yourself unconscious when the over-the-counter pain medication your mother had been giving you for your horn growth pains, which had started nearly a year earlier, proved ineffective.

Mama sat in the chair beside your bed, holding your small hand in hers as she waited for the doctor to return and Papa to arrive from work.

You shifted uncomfortably beneath the crisp white sheets. Just minutes ago, the kind doctors had guided you through an X-ray machine, showing you and Mama the images with reassuring smiles.

The results revealed a new bone near your lumbar vertebrae—your lower spine. A literal tail bone, they said. You were growing a tail, little by little.

Your feelings about this were mixed. On one hand—a tail! On the other, it was a tail. And it already hurt! Your horns had barely grown two inches from your head, and you'd felt like you were being split in half the day the bone broke through skin. How long would it take for your tail to grow? You were certain it would be far more painful than growing horns.

You shuddered at the thought, your hand instinctively reaching for your lower back where the new tail was said to be starting. The doctors had warned you, with words sugar-coated for a child of nine years, about the potential discomfort, but their clinical words couldn't fully capture the reality of what you were about to experience. As you lay there in the hospital bed, a mix of anticipation and dread settled in your stomach.

You gave your mother’s hand a gentle squeeze. She squeezed right back.

You would surely be able to figure something out. The doctors could help, right? Doctors saved people. So they were heroes.

Surely there was a way to save you from the pain?

Your mother comforted you through the painful process of growing horns and a tail, a process that took years of medication and hospital visits. She understood you better than anyone; her quirk allowed her to transform into dinosaurs. You'd only ever seen her shift into herbivores, and you both silently acknowledged the reason why. This unspoken understanding formed a deep bond between you—a connection that meant everything.

Your father did his best to understand. His quirk, centered around imagination rather than transformation, made it harder for him to relate. Nevertheless, he always tried to put himself in your and your mother's shoes. These attempts often resulted in comical disasters—misty, house-sized dinosaurs and dragons flying and scampering around the property like oversized mice. Despite the chaos, you could tell that he cared deeply. And that was usually enough.

By the age of thirteen, the horns had grown farther from your head and a full tail connected to your spine, reminding you of how your quirk made you different from others. You cried often as they grew, because growing bones and muscles was painful and you hated your quirk for it. You were sure you experienced pain far worse than any child your age should ever have to go through.

As you grew older, suppressing your primal instincts—the urge to hunt, play, eat, and sleep endlessly—also became easier. Your human mind developed and matured, while the beast within remained stagnant, neither growing nor learning. This internal divide between your evolving consciousness and the unchanging animal nature that was still you in a way became more pronounced with each passing year.

Now you were sixteen years old, attending one of the most prestigious hero schools in Japan : U.A.

Because maybe, just maybe, if you saved people even as a scaly or feathery beast with claws and teeth sharp enough to pierce and kill, they’d look at you and smile in awe and feel safe. A balance to those who saw how dangerous you are and feared you for it.

In the future, as you learned your friends aspirations, It seemed like a selfish reason to become a hero compared to Ochako’s or Izuku’s dreams—but it was your motivation and you couldn’t give it up easily. You wouldn’t, or more specifically, you didn’t know how.

Everything was progressing remarkably well, exceeding your expectations of your high school life. Your classmates' reactions to your quirk were nothing short of healing. As they cautiously ran their hands over your scales, each one as large as their heads, their faces lit up with genuine wonder and excitement. It was as if they were encountering a mythical creature brought to life, struggling to reconcile the reality of your transformed state with their own eyes.

Their expressions of amazement and fascination weren't just fleeting moments of curiosity; they seemed to radiate a deep, heartfelt appreciation for your unique ability. You could see it in their wide eyes, hear it in their excited whispers, and feel it in the gentle, reverent way they touched your scales. It was a validation you had long craved but never quite expected to receive so wholeheartedly.

The warmth of their acceptance enveloped you like a comforting blanket, wrapping around your very being and soothing anxieties you didn't even realize you harbored. In that moment, basking in their genuine smiles and unguarded enthusiasm, you felt a surge of emotion so powerful it nearly overwhelmed you. You knew, with unwavering certainty, that you would go to any lengths, face any challenge, to preserve those smiles and maintain that acceptance. The thought of anything encompassed a vast realm of possibilities, and you were prepared to explore every one of them if it meant keeping your classmates looking at you with that same wonder and joy.

All seemed well until you closed your eyes, nestled under the warm blanket. In that moment of vulnerability, you unwittingly lowered your guard—precisely when you needed it most.

That’s when it chose to strike.

[butchharts]

I think it’s fun that a lot of my past sexual encounters found it cute that I start to breathe/pant really heavy and that my pupils dilate whenever I get severely turned on >///< I also tend to cuss a lot which I’m not opposed to someone correcting that behavior

[kittehbiscuits]

I was half asleep these look goofy as hell :(

Tried out different texturing techniques with the BJ

I LOVE BARBARA!!!!!!

[ashersbraincell]

the :3 is coming…the :3 is coming…the :3 is coming…

[puppetmaster13u]

Meat Marionette 7?? 8????

Thinkin of the lil robins and other kids and just, them trying to build Jarro a meat body maybe. Idk, still rotating Jarro and if he'd have one seeing as they had to build his human form via some different body parts and such...

Anyway did some sleep deprived sketches of each- though I just realized I didn't label Cullen, oh well lol. I like to think the first couple robins are all more flesh and exposed muscle looking as the Tunnels adjust to building bodies that can still, well, grow and develop. They've only just succeeded in building a body that can move and semi function with Bruce after all, and even then it takes a couple years for that body to shift into something more alive with like, a stomach and such that needs more than time in the Hive and some Lazarus water for food and hydration. And even then it's another year or so of the bodies needing to be fed via IV before everything actually becomes semi functional as well, a body.

But anyway, his eleven children!

Dick's body starts out the most simple, but is also the first that they discover that the meat marionettes can in fact evolve seeing as he starts to grow electricity-producing organs almost akin to something like an eel. Which is probably very distressing to Bruce because like, this is his baby?? Who can suddenly tase people which is fine, but what if it gets stronger?

Jason's robin body doesn't get a lot of evolution before the Joker Incident, and then it formed a cocoon to become the next form over a year or so. I do feel like his wings were fluffier and had some down still, not enough to prevent flight, but enough to slow down say, take offs.

By the time Tim & Steph comes around, their bodies have started to develop more armor similar to Bruce's. Like the bodies are slowly developing even when the Hive first creates them from the flesh walls as the Tunnels get better at building living moving bodies. Like it's still are mostly soft larva-esque chitin still, but It's still visibly learning.

And then with Cass her body is far darker, more similar to one of the Bats than the rest of the babies. There's still bits of color- bright yellows to warn for venom and poison- but it's such a sudden left turn that they're concerned about what the Tunnels might do next.

It's a relief when it goes back to more colorful designs with the next ones, even if Duke probably has ended up the most armored straight out of the flesh.

Honestly in general I feel like they're actually very soft if someone gets close enough to touch them. Like they look terrifying, especially in night when it's dark out, but compared to their parent & aunt they're like fluffy baby birds. Something the kids in Gotham are probably familiar with, because the birds will help comfort scared people and victims while Bruce takes care of whatever caused their distress. Sometimes just crouches down and pulls out a small puzzle or something from one of his bags while waiting for the police to arrive while distracting the kids, his own and not.

Jarro if he does have a body like theirs, meat marionette or made by them, I feel like it looks more like some sort of hybrid of whatever the batclan are and some sort of aquatic creature. Like an aquatic (swimming?) xenomorph compared to a runner or a drone. Visibly the same species, but looks almost like a similar caste or subspecies if that makes sense? But honestly if yall have any ideas I am open to them. ______________________________________________________________

Reminder that this Au is a combo of both mine and @phoenixcatch7 so check out their Possessed Doll au, and actually go check them out in general, they have a lot of fun ideas and drabbles <3