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the-adventures-of-dave · 1 year

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im not saying this to come at you, as a bengal owner myself (though i do not plan to purchase any more of them), but aren’t there issues of ethicality surrounding the bengal breed as well, because of their wild cat blood? in particular ive heard stories from vets online regarding the fact that they do not handle visits the way fully domestic animals do and can be dangerous as a result. i see this in my own bengal as well despite his coming from a reliable and reputable breeder and regularly receiving comments from vets that he is very well behaved for the breed. despite being generations down, the wild blood has a clear effect on how well he handles shots, flea treatments, etc. however, outside of vets, very few people seem to actually discuss this matter in relation to the breed. i had personally not even thought about it until i saw them compared to wolfdogs, so i thought to bring it up to you in case you were the same.

Hey there anon, it's no trouble at all! I'll split this into two parts. It's gonna be a long one, so take a look under the cut for my answers (and a very cute photo of Kep).

The question about aggression is interesting to me, as I've never actually heard of bengal-specific aggression before. To vetblr and catblr, what are your experiences with bengal aggression? Do you find the breed leans one way or another?

On that note, let's look at aggression. Like I said, this ask is actually the first I've ever heard of bengal cats being aggressive! Of all the bengal owners I've talked to, both breeders and your average folk, none mentioned anything about human or cat aggression in bengals. As a high energy breed, bengals are known to be environmentally destructive when understimulated, but I can't find anything supported by science stating the breed is any more or less human/cat aggressive than your regular tabby. In talking to both my vet and acquaintances that work at vet clinics, they've all only had positive things to share about bengal personalities.

In my own F7 bengal experience Kepler is as sweet as a button, and even in high stress situations like parties or vet visits he is calm and friendly. He's never had issues with shots, ultrasounds, flea treatments, or handling from the vet. (Dave my domestic shorthair, on the other hand, needs multiple drugs including complete anesthetic to prevent him from hurting himself or veterinary staff, and has a greater history of aggressive behaviour). I actually purchased Kepler because the bengal personality seemed a lot safer and more consistent than adopting a dsh from the shelter and risking owning two aggressive cats.

(A photo of Kepler at the fear free vet, allowing them to lay him on his back for an ultrasound and urine collection.)

Regarding ethics, the issue most look to is the Wild x Domestic cross of the asian leopard cat and domestic shorthair. In the United States and other countries with lax animal welfare laws, poaching and private ownership of servals to create the Savannah breed is an ongoing issue, so it makes sense to want to apply the same logic to bengals.

The reason the cross is not an issue to me personally is that the bengal is considered a "closed breed" under the TICA and CFA, meaning that breeders can no longer register and show <F4 bengals or create new bengal bloodlines by outcrossing to the asian leopard cat. As of this change reputable registered bengals are considered a fully domestic cat and not a wild cross.

(The CFA breed standard stating no bengal can be outcrossed to asian leopard cats.)

This means that so long as you source your pet from a registered and reputable breeder, you are not contributing to the poaching or the unethical breeding of wild mixes. It's a fantastic inclusion, as it also actively discourages people from poaching, owning and breeding wildlife. It also makes it clear to potential cat owners like myself which breeders to avoid (ie. those that don't register or show their "bengals").

As an Albertan Canadian I also have further peace of mind as it is illegal for people in this province to own or import wildlife or wild mixes F4 or below, so there is no chance of getting a poached cat (or its offspring) unless I went to the black market or a particularly shady breeder.

Are there people in the United States and other countries that still cross domestics with ALCs? Most definitely. But I personally don't think that owning a cat that is;

Purchased from a reputable breeder;

Barred by law to be a recent outcross; and

Registered under a cat fancy that discourages outcrossing

actively supports modern poaching or unethical wildlife ownership. Cat fancy has taken steps to minimize the harm of bengal breeding and ownership on wildlife while still preserving a bit of cat history. Those steps are sufficient enough for me to be comfortable with it, and I hope that breeds like the savannah cat follow in their footsteps with a closed breed standard.

That being said, if the history of the bengal upsets you or is something that rubs you the wrong way, I wouldn't fault you for it. Wildlife and animal welfare is a bit of a tricky business, and it's not always black and white. Just make sure to do your research and be open to multiple opinions. I appreciate you reaching out to me, and I hope my own thoughts have given you something to think about, even if you don't agree. Cheers!

#long post #like super long #im so sorry lmao #thanks for the ask!#cat breeds #bengals #i love bengals #i could go on forever about bengals #bengals are the light of my life #(and dave too i also love him)#apologies if that sounded at all condescending that wasn't my intention #i just get really into talking about cats

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br4in-r0t · 1 year

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My one contribution to the HLVRAI fandom

#hlvrai #benrey #hlvrai benry #half life vr benry #gordon freeman #gordon feetman #dr coomer #hlvrai bubby #hlvrai tommy #tommy coolatta #half live vr but the ai is self aware #half live vr ai #half life #gay art #transgender #god save us all #im so sorry lmao #but not really

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guinevereslancelot · 1 year

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there is no "i" in gaslight <3

#im so sorry lmao #gaslight gatekeep girlboss #this has been a shitpost #unreality tw #tagging just to be safe #humor

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ahhnini · 4 months

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“until-”

until the british is ripped out of him and its doubled and given to the next person.

#IM SO SORRY LMAO #tom blyth #celeb crush #thirst post #hunger games #thg #tbosas #nini rambles

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zemantler · 8 months

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year taika progress :] i just doodled the first pic but it's kind of nice seeing that i'm making progress even tho it doesn't always feel like it

#remember that this was an art account before i started youtube?#im so sorry lmao #im not really motivated to do anything lately #taika waititi #wwdits #wwdits movie #my art

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morgombie · 3 days

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Hello Snuffy! What sorts of things do you like as hobbies? :?

"I collect teeth! And I turn them into things. It's my, like, favorite thing ever. You ever wanted a doll with real teeth pokin' out of it someplace? Yeah, me too! I make those."

"I'm also into, like, anything super morbid. If I could gather other body parts for my crafts without arousing suspicion in my neighborhood, I would!"

#im so sorry LMAO #ty for the ask :3 #Snuffy Ghotet #ask

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mommalosthermind · 11 months

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So this happened:

Me: “I feel like I wrote Lisa kinda snotty in this passage, d’you think she could pull off snotty?”

Him: “Not really? If you want bitchy then you need Yae Miko, Lisa’s kinda normal unless you’re late with a book.”

Me: “…Lisa’s vaguely condescending though.”

Him: “Yeah, I can see that. Miko can be straight up mean but Lisa would be like, ‘Careful cutie, keep that up and I might forget your safeword,”

Which I can fucking hear, and it is thus completely not my fault that this immediately popped into my head:

(Lisa/Jean/Kaeya under the cut)

Teatime is meant to be sacred, you know. It’s a darling little ritual to break up the day. Peaceful, harmonious. If, lately, it’s also come with a delightful side of spending time with Jean, and occasionally Kaeya, well, that’s just two more reasons for teatime to be important, don’t you think?

Sometimes, though, not even the fear of Lisa’s wrath can keep Jean’s underlings from interrupting.

Lisa’s fingertips rub circles into her temples. In all honesty, she tuned out whatever crisis this is ages ago. Her tea’s lone gone. The other two cups, so carefully brewed, are cold. No one’s touched the assortment of sliced fruits, nor the biscuits.

It might be selfish of her, to be sad over such a silly thing, but really, is it? Jean works so hard. Lisa all but bullied her into routinely meeting up like this, and Kaeya’s no better. Yes, she’s sad about the loss of their quiet rest, the lack of time together, but at the heart of it, Lisa’s upset at how the rest of the world is intent on working them both into an early grave.

Varka’s in for an earful when he returns.

Half an hour. That’s all she’s trying to give them. Half an hour to breathe.

Instead, Kaeya paces the length of the rug, voice rising and falling in its most persuasive tones. Jean stands behind her chair, one hand curled over the back. Bruises are beginning to darken under her eyes. How much more lovely would she look, if she was simply allowed a full night’s sleep? How broad would those shoulders really be, if they weren’t coiled so tight with tension? For that matter, Lisa’s willing to bet Kaeya’s lip would swell so much sweeter if the teeth sinking into it weren’t so rife with worry.

Irritation spikes in Jean’s voice, calling Lisa back to the present. She purrs, “Careful cutie, keep that up and I might forget your safeword.”

They freeze. They always do. It’s adorable, really, how easy it is to trip them up like this.

Jean’s flush is a thing of beauty, much darker than Lisa can usually pull out with a single line.

Lisa tilts her head, and blinks.

Neither of them have moved. They’re simply… staring at one another.

Her brows bunch together. Hmm. Perhaps she’s overstepped.

All at once, Kaeya animates, a too-loud laugh filling the space between them all. He waves an extravagant hand in the air, ambling back to Jean’s side. “Be careful yourself,” he says, glancing from Jean’s red face to Lisa. “Lines that like are liable to lose you the soft domme reputation you’ve so pointedly cultivated.”

Lisa smiles, making sure to allow it to bloom slowly. She watches a lovely shiver work its way up Jean’s spine.

“What I’m hearing is you think I’d make a good domme,” she says, and allows her smile to curl into sultry as the edge of Kaeya’s lip tucks between his teeth.

Jean’s inhale is sharp.

Like the blustery thing he is, he opens his mouth as soon as he catches her looking. “Is that so? Do good dommes often ‘forget’ safewords?”

“Only with permission, darling. After all, it would be my job to take care of you, wouldn’t it? That includes giving you the punishments you want.”

Kaeya’s eye is blown wide enough to lose its star shape.

“Although, I do find myself far more interested in giving out praise over punishments. And I wouldn’t need to punish the two of you, now would I?”

“I feel,” Jean squeaks, stopping to clear her throat. “Oh my goodness,” her hands come up to pat at her still-burning cheeks.

Kaeya attempts what Lisa assumes is meant to be a laugh, but it comes out more like a rough breath.

“This is maybe not a work appropriate conversation,” Jean says, still squeaky, still red, still staring at Lisa like she’s never seen her before.

Lisa stands, and watches how they swallow in unison.

And then the door bangs open, Amber rushing in with another fistful of papers.

“You will not believe the amount of nonsense,” Amber exclaims, only to stop dead and stare at the three of them. “Um. Is everything okay here? Is this a bad time?”

Jean shakes herself, once, twice, and when she pulls her gorgeous eyes off Lisa for the first time in ages, Lisa finds that she’s had quite enough of that, thank you very much.

“It is, yes,” she says before Jean can dive right back into whatever inane thing needs her attention now. “Go ahead and drop that anywhere, and we’ll get back to you later, okay?”

Amber’s already nodding, her eyebrows pressed tightly together. “Yeah, yeah, okay, and I’ll tell Wyatt not to let anyone else in for now.”

The girl’s gone in the same rush she arrived, door thunking closed behind her. As an added precaution, Lisa activates her personal wards, watching both doors glow a faint purple.

“Did I know you could do that?” Kaeya asks mildly.

Jean’s already moving to collect the papers Amber left behind.

Lisa tuts. “Jeanie, sit.”

Jean sits.

Jean sits, and then an absolutely baffled expression takes over her pretty face. That flush is back in full force.

“Good girl,” Lisa says, leaning one hip on the table across from her.

Oh.

That flush goes so dark Lisa’s a little worried the poor thing’s gone dizzy.

Goodness, if this keeps up, Lisa is going to be the dizzy one.

“And I believe that’s my cue,” Kaeya chirps, easing around where Jean’s still gaping up at Lisa. “Mind undoing the door long enough to let me out?”

“I’m afraid I do mind. Your turn, sweetie. Sit down for me.”

“Aha,” Kaeya says, but his feet stop moving.

“Jeanie baby?”

Jean slings one arm out, tugging Kaeya in until he sits across her lap, held in place with her arms around his hips.

That one blue eye slides from Jean to Lisa and back again, as though he can’t decide where he should be looking.

“So good for me,” Lisa says again, delighting in the way the two of them melt into each other. “Aren’t you two just the prettiest little kittens I’ve ever seen.”

She sits back down, leaves them to press into each other, lets them keep their eyes on her as she starts preparing them all new cups of tea. When she looks up, Kaeya’s slouched down to cuddle into Jean’s shoulder, his arms wrapped around her middle. All three of those gorgeous eyes are fixed on her, exactly where she likes them best.

“Now then. I think we have some new things to discuss, and you two darlings have some safewords to pick out.” She winks, and relishes the way two sets of teeth sink into lower lips. “Don’t worry. I won’t forget them unless you want me to.”

#Momma writes #genshin impact fanfic #lisa/jean/kaeya #Lisa/jean #lisa/kaeya #kaejean #kaejeanlisa? Does this one have a dedicated ship name?#kaeya alberich #lisa minci #jean gunnhildr #this is messy as fuck but it’s a tumblr fic i slapped together while yelling at my partner for giving me brainrot so it is what it is #im so sorry lmao #Now. The real question. Is do i clean it up and slap it on ao3 or pretend i never wrote this #Anyway: Lisa just wants to take care of her idiots: a thread #The mortifying ordeal of posting fic

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eclecticmiasma · 2 years

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Kinktober '22 Day 6 (Dottore x Reader)

"It's been so long since you've been treated with any sort of kindness that you want nothing more than to fall into him, to show him how grateful you are for his work."

NSFW

[Warnings: DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT, Dottore is his own warning, gore, afab reader, blood, descriptions of medical equipment/procedures, stockholm syndrome, reader is a bit fucked in the head]

Art credit: Kradebii on pixiv

Two masked men take the mostly covered body away on a stretcher. Its arms, already seized by rigor mortis, are outstretched to the sky in final plea for mercy. The edges of your gown are frayed as you pick at them, anxiously watching what had once been a friend disappear. At least he's at peace.

Long ago, or maybe last week, those held underground decided never to share their names. It makes it too personal when they inevitably succumb, whether it's to the disease or the methods themselves. It's too easy to make friends here. It's too easy to cling on to the little shards of humanity you find scattered within one another. A simple sharing of bread can make you feel like you've known this person all your life.

Some patients sob. The sickest don't even spare a glance in the corpse's direction. Some curse the doctors to hell and back, rumbling through gritted teeth. All you feel is overwhelming guilt.

Guilt that you continue to survive, guilt that every death feels less and less heart-wrenching. Guilt that somewhere deep, deep in the pit of your gut lies overwhelming anticipation.

Dottore is coming.

That's what the others call him. It's only fitting that the coldest, cruelest, most calculating of them all have a title different than the rest. It doesn't escape your attention that all the workers seem deferent to him, if not outright submissive. Yes Dottore. No, Dottore. It was only a mistake, Dottore. These callous bastards crumble the minute he enters the room.

Every time a patient dies, Dottore is soon to follow. From what you've gathered in your time here, he has purview over any and all anomalies. The regular doctors won't even touch you if something unexpected occurs. All autopsies are to be done by Dottore as well- you found that out when a young Doctor from Snezhnaya was...removed after deigning to investigate a patient's death on his own.

Not only will Dottore come to perform the autopsy, but every single patient is to receive a full body examination and additional testing if needed. Though testing occurs like clockwork at the facility, a relatively healthy patient such as yourself is examined but once a week. Even then, it's a surface level screening at best. The doctors come and check your pupils, lungs, blood pressure. They might check your limb function before taking a small vial of blood and going on their way. They don't even take the time to restrain you lest you decide enough is enough. It's as if they have no vision, no care for their work.

It's different with Dottore. One can tell he views his research as something sacred. Everything he does has meaning. He considers your open wounds, your thick scaled skin, the heavy throbbing of your pulse inside your throat with meticulous concern, logging pages of notes through your time together. Even when he hurts you, you feel as if it's for a greater purpose beyond your understanding. When you're with him you feel important, elated that you may just be the thing he's searching for. As his skilled hands survey you, you want so desperately to be good for him- whatever that might entail.

"Everyone back to your beds!" Your chest tightens, nerves building. A commotion breaks out as one of the newer patients resists, demanding to know what happened to the man who died. As always, he's given one verbal warning before being forced to the ground and sedated. He'll learn soon enough.

Once cries of agony begin to echo throughout the halls, you know that he's arrived. The other patients maintain that Dottore is psychotic, a madman chasing something that he'll never quite reach. They say he's using those afflicted with Eleazar as mere lab rats. He views your bodies as a means to an end and most of the medicine he practices is for his own sadistic pleasure, they say. If all of you died tomorrow, he'd simply hunt for a new batch of victims. For the sake of peace and your own conflicted heart, you always hold your tongue.

The cries get closer as time drags along. Dottore may spend hours with a single patient, harvesting all of the data he can uncover. It only makes your anxiety build. You wonder if their lives would be less painful if they would only allow the testing to go unimpeded. As much as it's pained you, you've never once shrieked the way the others have. The pain is only temporary if it can help rid the world of Eleazar completely.

Finally, you hear his heavy footsteps as he makes his way down the corridor. You lie flat on your back and swallow hard, barely able to breathe. His shadow fills your doorframe. Mindlessly, your fingers continue to rip at your gown.

Metal and glass clank together as Dottore enters your room, dragging a cart full of equipment behind him. As always, he pulls out a ragged piece of paper and studies it for a moment before taking your arm in hand. A number was branded into the skin on the inside of your wrist when you first arrived. He hums in confirmation.

"[Y/n]," He greets you curtly, reaching down to grasp a black strap attached to the side of your bed. A terrible nostalgia nearly overwhelms you. How long has it been since you've heard your name? Without another word, you lay your arms flat at your sides and allow Dottore to fasten the straps around your limbs one by one. A precaution, he noted the first time you met. Their tightness makes you feel strangely secure. Everything is in Dottore's hands now.

First comes the tourniquet. Dottore ties it neatly over your bicep. Two of his slender, gloved fingers tap gently for a vein to rise. Even through the material you can sense how cold his hands are. Soon the lengthy needle tip of a syringe is aligned and the head pricks your skin painfully. You remind yourself to breathe.

"Such lovely veins," He muses, watching your deep red blood flow into vial after vial, "Much easier than digging for an opening," You can't bring yourself to look at him, body flushing at the sudden compliment.

After five or six vials he removes the syringe from your flesh and swipes at it with a piece of fabric. You wince as it drags over the inside of your forearm, catching a fresh patch of Eleazar that has begun to form. Dottore frowns as he spots it and your heart sinks.

He turns to check his notes and you can't help but feel you've disappointed him. For weeks your affliction has been held in check, of course a relapse would happen just before a visit from Dottore himself. Sure enough, he mutters much of the same.

Without a word, he sets down his notes and rifles through different equipment before extracting a small scalpel. He holds it up to the light above and turns it, checking the sharpness of the blade. Deeming it worthy, he grasps your forearm presses the scalpel to your skin, dragging it forward without warning.

It takes every ounce of self control you have not to scream. Not to be like them. The nature of Eleazar is that its physical symptoms run deep. Unlike a scab or scrape, the crusted scales run well into the dermis and require surgical intervention to remove. You feel the hot rush of blood as it trickles forth, soaking your gown and the bedding beneath.

Dottore looks at you as you try not to writhe, as you try so desperately to stay still and let him work. You unconsciously emit a long, pitiful whine as he cuts deeper and deeper still, burning pain overwhelming. Little do you know that Dottore could end this as quick as he started it, but curiosity has overtaken him.

Where is your line?

"Look at me," He orders. You hadn't even realized that your eyes were screwed shut, face wet with tears. You do your best to obey, to tunnel vision on the dark mask that covers Dottore's face. If you could see his eyes, you think, all of this would be so much easier to take, "Good girl."

In a swift motion he slices the rest of the Eleazar away, leaving a deep, bloody gash in its wake. A sob escapes you despite your best efforts, but Dottore doesn't seem to pay it any mind. Instead, he quickly pours antiseptic on the wound, stepping back as you thrash while it does its work.

Once you're certain you aren't going to pass out, you will your body to relax. Dottore grasps your forearm once again and small pinpricks make themselves known to you. While they're nothing compared to the agony of what occurred, they're irritating enough to make you look over, "Shh...it's over," Dottore coos. It registers that he is suturing your open flesh shut. There's a twisted smile on his lips as he does it. Mixed emotions wash over you. Not once have you seen another patient with stitches, unless their injuries truly were catastrophic. Something like this the doctors would have left to the open air, preferring to witness the healing process and be sure that the Eleazar would not return for the present.

The way Dottore touches you so tenderly, is so careful with your ragged skin, it fills you with something akin to adoration. You wish that he hadn't placed you in restraints after all. It's been so long since you've been treated with any sort of kindness that you want nothing more than to fall into him, to show him how grateful you are for his work.

Dottore can see your emotions shifting in an instant. The minute he takes you in his hands he feels you stiffen, your pulse race. Though he often takes his patients' vitals when they are in the midst of abject terror merely being in his presence, he can tell that you aren't afraid, not truly. He can't decide if you're terminally stupid or truly mentally unwell. His fingers trace lightly over the sutures once he's finished, gauging your reaction as he does so. Your pupils widen, your chest heaves. There is a small theory he is compelled to test.

"[Y/n]," He says, leaning closer to you, "Is there anywhere else the Eleazar has spread?" Dottore doesn't miss the way your throat bobs up and down.

"I...no..." Dottore leans in closer, tips of his hair touching your face and neck. His breath ghosts across your skin. Glee strikes him as he watches you squirm.

"Let's find out, shall we?"

You start to protest as his gloved hands find their way up the opening of your gown. Your body rocks against the restraints, begging him to wait. You watch in shame as he peels back the fabric and peers between your legs.

Sure enough, on your inner right thigh is a small patch of Eleazar. It appeared this morning. But what Dottore is much more fascinated with is how damp your entrance is, folds soaked with a thick, sticky substance.

"My, my...and here I thought I had hurt you," Tears fill your eyes as you imagine what's coming next, the disgust he must feel. Dottore moves away and you think he's going to pack up and be done with you. Where do discarded patients go?

The torrent of shame and anxiety swirling in your mind when you notice Dottore taking off his jacket. Beneath the layers of clothing, he appears to have a surprising amount of muscle. For a brief moment you're distracted as he rolls up his sleeves, large veins peeking out from beneath his skin. In his left hand he takes the scalpel once again.

"Would you do something for me, [Y/n]?" You shudder as he faces you, moving to spread your thighs apart. Despite every nerve in your body screaming at you to say no, you find yourself nodding.

"Speak," He says, flipping the scalpel around and tracing the outline of your labia with the dull edge.

"Y-yes..." Your voice cracks, world around you feeling fuzzy.

"Yes, what?" Dottore asks quietly, flipping the scalpel back around and pressing it to the corner of the Eleazar that mars the supple skin of your thigh. Two digits of his free hand press against your hole.

"Yes, Dottore!" The man chuckles, deep and knowing. He slowly slides his gloved fingers inside of you. You beg him to wait, but he gives no sign of relenting.

"Let me hear you scream."

Just as you start to really feel the stretch in the warm depths of your cunt, blinding pain tears through your thigh. Your back arches in an attempt to buck away from Dottore, but it's no use. His fingers cant in and out of you as the head of the scalpel makes its way beneath the blackened scales on your skin. It's all too much.

For the first time, you cry out. It tears from your throat like a wounded animal as you float somewhere between immense pain and blinding pleasure. Dottore whispers to you as you mewl aloud, goading you to be louder, louder.

Somewhere in the depths of your mind you're inclined to obey. You scream for him, sob as he presses against the soft, slick walls of your cunt while slicing deeper and deeper into the meat of your thigh. Blood trickles down your leg, heady fluid leaks from your swollen hole.

With a final push Dottore flips a chunk of your flesh out with the scalpel and tosses it all to the side. Another shriek is ripped from you as he slots a finger into the open wound, swirling it around in the viscera. At the same time the digits that impale you hit a sweet spot that have you seeing pinpricks of light.

"D-Dottore!" A wild grin spreads across the man's face as climax overtakes you. You pull against the restraints so hard in your ecstasy that one on your leg nearly snaps. Relentlessly, he continues to thrust into you until you're a bloody, sobbing mess. Only then does he tear his fingers from you, wiping your bodily fluids on the side of your bed.

The next thing you register is the sound of a pencil on paper. Dottore writes furiously in his log, no doubt chronicling in detail what occurred today. When he's finished he snaps the book shut and looks down at you with a sinister smile.

"I very much look forward to the next time one of you dies."

*all original work is my intellectual property. do not edit or re-upload.

[KINKTOBER '22 MASTERLIST]

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chilei-the-hotsauce · 1 year

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the real reason why ada wasnt wearing her pretty red dress in the remake

#i went clothes shopping with her afterwards #my art #digital art #art #resident evil 4 #re4 #leon s kennedy #ada wong #re4 fanart #clothes swap #also an excuse to draw myself in leon's clothes #(and leon in ada's clothes)#im so sorry lmao

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mo-nroette-blog · 10 months

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Sandara Park

Festival (2023)

#sandara park #the quality is so bad #im so sorry lmao #but the video is SO beautiful #kpop #kpop gif #kgifs #ksoloists #female soloist #female idols #2nd gen #2ne1 #dara

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wogot3 · 9 months

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Soldat & Deliberator vs inverted employer aftermath

Hello!! I just want to say, thank you for following this story! I appreciate every single thing those have said about this comic, and forever grateful that others have loved what I’ve enjoyed doing. Please stay tune for more!

Love ya 💖💖💖

Here is an extra:

(she took a sick leave for ONE day)

#madness combat #aahw #atp soldat #1337 agent #madness combat deliberator #atp engineer #madness combat employers #honestly i love a lot of mpn employer headcanons considering they have like the TINIEST canon appearance #deliberator here i just make him much older(???) and been through some shit #pls i love everyone making him the nicest precious thing #*proceeds to give him trauma and force him to do horrible shit*#im so sorry lmao #yknow what let me link his old cringy story i made to my pinned post

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squidthesquidd · 6 months

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gays im sorry to say, ive been absolutely consumed by transformers. sooooo demon slayer art may be happening less (there still will be some) but i need to figure out how to draw robots so i can be mentally ill about transformers

#squids babbles #transformers #im so sorry lmao

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prettybbychim · 2 months

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oh im so excited to get confirmation on arlecchino's constellation/symbol

i've seen it as common census that she is the third symbol on the right side, but i could argue that it could be pantalone instead

from the left side counter clockwise, these are my thoughts including further explanation

plague doctor mask - dottore

heresy symbol - pulcinella/capitano/pantalone (tentative)

jester mask - pierro

shaman's/healer's hand - capitano (tentative)

marionette - sandrone

narwhal - childe

crystalfly - signora

doll - scaramouche

hand holding an object - pantalone/arlecchino (tentative)

weeping dove - columbina

crucifixion nails - arlecchino/capitano (tentative)

color code: green - pretty damn confident, blue - confirmed, red - confusion

to begin, heresy is roughly defined as a belief or opinion that is contrary/unacceptable by religious doctrine, or public / official opinion.

about pulcinella from commedia dell'arte, its said "he almost always appears in contradiction." however, following that line of thought, capitano always fits the bill. "when the turks seem to be winning, he will join them. when they are driven off, he will change sides again and boast about his loyalty and bravery."

about putting capitano as the shaman's hand and/or the crucifixion nails, it's more of a vibe than anything lol putting him on heresy was only because of his counterpart's description in the play, nothing else. i have no evidence of anything. i am not ashamed. natlan pls come soon i need this man

about arlecchino as the crucifixion nails, my initial thought process also had to do with the play. arlecchino is also known as harlequin. the name harlequin came from another story about a "demon" or "devil." as i'm typing this now, i realize this does not make a lot of sense because the nails have to do with the crucifixion of jesus christ and big JC is not a demon. but he's the antithesis of them so i mean, idk

onto the ninth symbol - it appears to be a hand gripping an object. on first glance, i thought it was a vial, such as the ones used for the essential oils in game.

however, it could also be an artistic rendition of a heart. this would be a direct reference to the pale flame set, in particular the sands piece, where it talks about pantalone's backstory. "the center of the world is a heart made of gold. [...] when the moment comes, that heart shall cease beating by our will alone."

considering that constellations are tied to one's fate, as a human man without a vision, his constellation could replicate that.

however, pantalone also tracks with the heresy symbol. as its speculated he's from liyue, his goals for teyvat's flow of money and currency as a whole, it would be considered heresy against his homeland's archon - rex lapis. (side note: i will do anything to see an interaction between the two of them)

primarily, i have seen this symbol speculated to be arlecchino's due to the appearance of the hand and the state of her own hands. what i have not seen is any further explanation on the decision. now, say it is an alchemy bottle: flaming essential oil = house of the hearth ? the house is in the palm of her hand etc etc i'm just not entirely convinced on that one either.

i'm not entirely convinced on any of these four. we have next to no information on capitano, and some bits on pulcinella, and a little bit more than that on pantalone...all this to say, i am nowhere closer to an answer than i was before.

there are a variety of ways i can see this being arranged but there's always one thing that does not align.

option 1: heresy (pantalone), healer's hand (pulcinella), hand gripping (arlecchino), nails (capitano) // how does pulcinella fit with that symbol?

option 2: heresy (pulcinella), healer's hand (capitano), hand gripping (pantalone), nails (arlecchino), // how does capitano fit?

or alternatively, option 3, same as before but: nails (capitano) and healer's hand (arlecchino) // how do either of them fit? besides vibes

and finally, option 4: heresy (capitano), healer's hand (arlecchino/pulcinella), hand gripping (pantalone) // how do they fit with those? and who goes with which one?

in conclusion, i do not know. huzzah !! i might have confused myself even more than i was before starting this post, but that's okay because maybe it'll help you understand why i so desperately want arlecchino's constellation confirmed

slurping up the harbinger crumbs

#fatui #fatui harbingers #arlecchino #pantalone #pulcinella #capitano #genshin speculation #me actively losing braincells #i really want to write a pantalone character study #with the itty bitty crumbs we have #in the form of a fic that is #long post #im so sorry lmao

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