#i like the idea of a all powerful organization

[zvdvdlvr]

If youve read some of my revent work, i think you can understand my fascination with vampires (or vampyres). Butttttt i realized i hadn’t written any vamp!reader for anyone in cod or harry potter

So this is my official vamp!reader x tom riddle shit post.

I like to think that Tom realized somethingwas different about you when he couldn’t read your mind using Legilimency. It was sixth year at this point and you were a kept-together, quiet student. As a Slytherin, Tom knew your name but nevr paid attention to you until sixth year: people whispered about you when you passed by, teachers were noticeably more lenient with you on almost everything, your magic was extremely powerful and you were well practiced, and how striking your features were.

Professor privilege (or ‘special treatment’) consisted of you attending most classes but ignoring everything that was going on. You never slept- Tom noted- but were always doing somthing else. The differing activities you preformed didn’t disrupt the class, but the fact that you always did something else in every class was definitely an eyebrow raiser.

Your magic was powerful. Powerful, honed, practised, strong, and memorable. Tom was intrigued by how fluid your wand movements were, how quickly you could cast a spell, how lethal your movements were, and your ability to cast spells without a wand. As a sixth year, wandless incantations were growing more and more popular. But the fact that you could preform duels without your wand- strings of spells- without so much as a twitch of the hand was extraordinary.

Tom didn’t want to say you were pretty, but in all honesty, you were incredibly attractive in Tom’s opinion. Your sculpted eyebrows paired with the stony stare in your eyes? The way your cheekbones hung over your guant face was further enhancing Tom’s interest in you. Your chin and jawline were prominent, a perfect mix of sharp and piercing.

Going more in depth in the people gossiping about you wasn’t really necessary. Some people- boys- were attracted to your facial and body features, ‘spcial treatment’, and just wanted to have sex. Other people- girls- were jealous of the interest many of their boyfriends gave you, were jealous of your smarts, and didn’t like you. You were powerful and you knew it. People didn’t like that.

These traits led Tom Riddle to the jarring conclusion that you were a vampyre. town further prove his theory, Tom often caught a glimpse of you wandering the corridors at night, paying no mind to the prefects and head boys and girls that saw you. You conversed easily ith the portraits and spirits- even befriending Peeves.

Evan Rosier was the one to bring up your existence during a Knights of Walpurgis meeting. Tom had listened to Rosier’s ideas- involving you with their agenda and bringing you into their organization. 

Tom had his doubts. He believed that you were not the right person to try to convince. Tom protested for no real reason. He himself didn’t even know why he was tensing up around your name, growing defensive as the conversation continued. Why?

Coincidentally Tom Marvolo Riddle came across you striding into the Forbidden Forrest that very same night.

He didn’t know why he followed you. Tom didn’t know that, for some reason, you intrigued and infuriated him to no end. Why must you effortlessly best him at every activity? Why must you look so unbothered after singlehandedly destroying three seventh year Quidditch players after making a bet that you couldn’t win against them as a 3 versus 1? Why, pray tell, were you the only person on Tom’s mind after seeing your sly smirk when you stumbled across something undeniably inappropriate in your book? Why you? Why-

“Stop thinking so loudly.”

Tom stood- frozen- as you moved into an open clearing. You clicked your tongue a few times and whistled. After doing it a few times in a pattern, Tom realized you were summoning something.

“What did you follow me for?” Your voice was crisp and audible despite the distance between the two of you that was closing slowly. Tom inched forward, hesitating for one of the few times in his life.

“Why did you sneak out? I could report you to the headmaster for this. You’ve done this before, so I could get you in trouble for a long time.”

You showed no reaction as you tilted your ear up. You whistled again. “Step back, please.”

Tom didn’t know why he complied but he did. A second later, a large winged animal emerged from the trees. A hippogriff, Tom realized. “Did you hear me? I said-“

“Do even know my name, Tom Riddle?” You finally turnd around. Your face was even more haunting in the moonlight. “If you have seen me sneak out numerous times before, why haven’t you already told anyone? You have nothing to blackmail me with, so I am confused by your reasoning for following me.” You watched Tom for a second. The hippogriff whinnied shyly behind you and you immediately turned your sharp gaze away.

Tom realized that he liked your sharp eyes on him. He liked when you looked at him like you could crush him- knowing that you could, in fact, crush him. But then Tom realized that you knew his name.

You cooed and murmured something to the hippogriff that was inaudible to Tom. You patted the animal’s side and mounted the beast. You cooed a few more words at the animal before turning to Tom. “If you come with me, I can answer some of your questions. You’re an awfully curious fellow, Tom. Very smart…”

“You can read my thoughts?”

“Like an open book,” you snickered. “I’m leaving in ten seconds- as does your opportunity for answers.”

The hippogriff’s feet stamped anxiously, eargerly awaiting departure.

Tom’s jaw set. Did he really want to? He couldn’t answer the question as he took a step forward.

“Bow first,” you commanded quietly.

Withholding a scoff, Tom scoured the animal’s eyes before bending down at the waist. The blasted animal waited until Tom’s entire core burned to caw and return the bow. 

Tom struggled to mount. He couldn’t quite wrap his arm and get his leg up to the beast. He glowered, hearing your breathy chuckle. “Help me.”

Your eyes seemed to smile. You reached out a hand and waited impatiently for Tom to take it.

Despite how impressed Tom was at how easily you lugged him up, he grumbled. “Where are we going?”

“To eat,” you replied simply. “Better hold on, Tom, I ride fast.”

Tom grumbled. He didn’t want to hear the coyness in your tone at the last sentence. “I don’t need to hold on.”

Suddenly, the hippogriff lurched forward and Tom’s throat let out a choked cry. He wrapped his arms tightly around your waist and scooted further into you as the beast rose into the air. He grumbled some more after prying his forhead from your shoulder and opening his eyes.

“There’s food at the castle,” Tom whispered with a ragged voice. “What are you going to eat?”

“Not the kind of stuff I need,” you chuckled. “They don’t keep fresh blood for me there.”

[harley-style]

What i dont understand about the new organization xiii is how open they were about making sora do their bidding by revealing themselves

Like doesnt xehanort have possessing powers, he totally could have mind controlled or brainwashed a few bystanders and had them feed sora misinformation

Not only is sora a stupidly trusting kid literally NO ONE EVER in kh thinks to double check their sources

Or if they do they still investigate anyway bc they always wanna double check

Like they dont trust the organization point blank duh but the smarter angle would be to hide the fact that youre organization xiii and manipulate everyone from the shadows!!

Actually kh1 had the right idea with riku and maleficent bc maleficent barely showed her hand bc she knew sora and riku were friends but she still revealed herself which might have led to her downfall

Xehanort had no such excuse he did all that prepwork with his past and future self only to SQUANDER IT????? My guy the reason sora wasnt able to become your vessel wasnt because the power of friendship its bc the power of your dumbassery made the guardians of light see through your self-important bullshit enough to make sure sora didnt fall for the wrong information

Hell you dont even need to convince sora to be evil just make him realize the only way to save his friends is to fall to the darkness and hed do that!!! Quite plainly!! But nooooo you had to make them all face you off

Yeah yeah 13 darkness 7 light yeah i KNOW they had to fight but they could do that literally ANY time i feel like. Xehanort really had no excuse to be so stupid.

Although i guess thats why xigbar was behind the scenes...

[notalkingbusiness]

Billing

From what I've heard Norman's name is billed first in TBOC. Melissa's name comes second on a separate title card. So, the title of the show is uneven (Carol's a subtitle). The billing is uneven (Melissa is not being positioned as an equal). It's once again setting the tone for an uneven show.

The most frustrating thing about all of this is that AMC has once again refused to do the right thing. They've needlessly created a negative story for themselves again: if Melissa and Norman had been equally billed we wouldn't have to talk about this, in the same way that there wouldn't have been a negative story had they signed off on a title which positioned both leads as equals.

AMC could've opted for diagonal billing instead. I haven't watched the other TWD spinoffs, but it sounds like this is what was done for TOWL and DC. (If someone could let me know either way in the comments that would be great.)*

Diagonal billing is "also known as "staggered" or "staggered but equal" billing. When two stars of equal prominence star in a movie together, in posters and credits billing, the two names may be staggered next to each other on the same title card — with the one on the left being lower, the one on the right being higher. This way, reading left to right gives one actor prominence, and reading top to bottom will give the other prominence. "Staggered but equal billing" serves to avoid causing tension between the two A-list lead actors over who is more important. Often, they will receive the same payment for their roles as well."

Now, the above article highlights that a "variation of staggered billing can be seen on some TV series. Instead of two leads sharing the same title card, they alternate who is billed first from episode to episode." It's unlikely but not impossible that this would be done in TBOC. Maybe Mel is listed first in episode 2, but that would be a serious head scratcher if they've broken protocol and for some reason decided to bill TBOC differently to the other spinoffs. Like how they've chosen a clunky and uneven title for this show. A title which sticks out like a sore thumb compared to the other spinoff titles.

But MMB is an exec producer - that means she must be okay with anything and everything associated with TBOC!

Yes, she is an exec producer and I'm happy about that. But there seems to be some perception that acting EPs are omnipotent and that's definitely not the case. I think it would be more helpful to think of acting EPs being like managers in any normie office workplace. Your manager has power and they might even have a vision for how your workplace should be run. That doesn't mean that your manager can just do whatever they want. It doesn't mean that your manager won't encounter resistance from other managers within the organization because some people are vying for the top spot. Your manager's bosses don't have to listen to them, even if they have great ideas. There's always a hierarchy. This situation is bad enough in normal jobs, never mind in Hollywood where there are huge problems with inequality, pay disparity, sexism, ageism, misogyny etc.

TLDR: If something feels off about the billing, that's because something is off. In the same way that something felt off about the unequal title. It's okay to be angry and disappointed about unequal billing because it shows that AMC refuse to learn from past mistakes.

*Edit: RetiredKat has confirmed that Cohan/Morgan and Lincoln/Gurira were simultaneously billed in their respective shows. TBOC is the odd one out again, funny that🙄

[radiocreature]

📻 On Parade To The Flesh Buffet (Radiorose Week Day 3) 🌹

Word count: 2,971

Summary: A routine hunting trip to restock supplies for Rosie's Emporium takes a chaotic turn after their coach loses its back wheels. Once the pair get a taste for blood, their usual composure slips.

Warnings: canon-typical violence, cannibalism, exsanguination, decapitation, Rosie is an axe murderer because I felt like it suited her

AO3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/56545729

Possibly a bit OOC because this is my first time ever writing for Hazbin, and I didn't have time for my usual editing process. I hope you enjoy!

On Parade To The Flesh Buffet

Before Rosie’s Emporium stood as the centerpiece of a bright and bustling Cannibal Town, the building belonged to a cluster of writers and artists on the outskirts of Pentagram City. Their talents ranged from respectable journalism to droll gossip, from photorealistic recreations to vague caricatures. Through their combined talents, they created the first news media organization in hell. One of their first new hires as an official company was an advice columnist named Rosie.

Rosie’s unique wit, humor, and empathetic approach to her audience helped their publications reach beyond Pentagram City. Letters poured in from readers all across the Pride ring. From romantic struggles to traumatic memories, Rosie responded to all her readers like personal friends; family, even. The parasocial bonds forged through her column laid her foundation as an overlord.. She had no intentions of pursuing overlord status—she found the idea of owning other souls distasteful—but when the opportunity presented itself through this new avenue, she seized it. Uncertainty over the nature of her power keeps the others from challenging her.

The news organization eventually fell to infighting. Rosie bought the building, evolving the old advice column into an in-person business. Cannibal Town grew around her as the only voice empathetic to their kind, and the Emporium expanded as their numbers and needs increased. Rosie’s high standards for her meals meant she handled all of the Emporium’s food offerings herself. All the recipes her own, all of the ingredients sourced by her hand.

Until the day Alastor offered to help with the heavy lifting. How could she say no to such a tantalizing, mischievous glint in his eyes?

She hasn’t sourced her meat from Pentagram City in over a century. Their awareness of the cannibal congregation makes them harder targets, and sourcing from your own backyard creates problems. When supplies run low, the pair load up her carriage and take the hunt on the road. Word can’t travel about the favored hunting grounds of cannibals without witnesses.

A violent jerk launches her out of her seat inside the carriage, yanking her out of her thoughts. The chittering of Alastor’s shadowbeasts as they brake drown out whatever he says in response.

Rosie lowers the window, the brim of her hat stopping her from leaning out. She calls out, “what’d we hit? Anything appetizing?”

Alastor hops down into view, his smile tight and eyes narrow. She feels a vibration up through the carriage when he kicks something out of view. “Blasted tree root that wasn’t here a second ago, took off the entire back construction.” Huffing, he opens the door and offers her his hand. His expression softens when their gazes meet. “Never a dull moment out here.”

Rosie takes his hand and steps out of the carriage, mindful of the thick roots still snaking their way across the road. With a snap, Alastor summons more shades to repair the damage.

Her sunken eyes follow the lines of the roots. Without light pollution helping to brighten the air, the blood red sky casts the Pride ring in eternal night. It reminds her of the red lamps in the photographic darkrooms she dabbles in on occasion. The barren landscape of the Pride ring doesn’t have the soil for a tree to grow this large, and she can’t spot any.

“How close are we to Hubris?” She calls over her shoulder.

“A few miles,” Alastor answers, inspecting his nails from where he leans against the carriage. His other hand supports some of his weight on his microphone. The dim ruby glow washes out most of the details of his suit, but his eyes still pierce through the haze.

Rosie smirks. “I think someone’s having a laugh.”

“Yes indeedy,” he says with a wink. Reaching through the open window, he slides Rosie’s axe out from under the seat, carries it out, and tosses it to her sideways.

Her fingers wrap around the handle mid-air in a practiced grip. Pivoting on her heel, she aligns her knuckles and swings from her core up through her arms as her attacker enters range. The axe cleaves clean through his trachea and spine, decapitating him with a single thrust. Warmth splashes across her face from the arterial spray. She licks away the drops that land on her lips with glee.

Tentacles sprout from Alastor’s back and shoot out in all directions. The familiar tug of his antlers growing tickles at his scalp. Like the roots that took out their wheels, he slinks them around boulders and bushes to wrap around unsuspecting ankles. Yelps of surprise punctuate each ambush he upends. Two claw and clamber against it, two try hacking at the tentacles to get them to let go. Dragging all of them in the dirt, Alastor winds the limbs tighter up their bodies before grouping them together and suspending them upside down at eye level.

His dark, sadistic chuckle silences their shouting. “One of my favorite parts of coming all the way out here—”his pupils stretch into radio dials, his scleras snapping to black—“they never know what we look like.”

Rosie unpacks a cured whiskey barrel from the carriage’s rear storage. Placing the barrel underneath them, she slits two of their throats. The shrieks and begging of the second two make her giggle as she drains their friends. When the second two start pouring into their new home, she retrieves the body she decapitated.

“Not the most ideal location for this,” she muses as she cuts away clothing, “I’m just gonna break them down for now. There’s not enough meat on their bones for us to go back yet.”

“I thought as much,” Alastor says. He tears the clothes off the exsanguinated pair. With them still suspended, he conjures a gigli saw to dismember them while keeping them out of the dirt. The four of them together don’t have enough blood volume to fully submerge all their pieces, and the fifth one bled out too much before they unloaded the barrel. They’ll fill it with larger game later. Rosie likes to soak some offerings to give them extra flavor, and so the cuts will bleed if cooked.

She pares a couple chunks of flesh off the white meat of hers and offers one to Alastor. He accepts it with a bow and a “why thank you, darling!” And they finish working in between bites. Every one of Rosie’s recipes makes each bite a work of art, but nothing beats the taste of it raw and fresh off the bone. They both wipe their mouths and necks with handkerchiefs when they finish.

With everything loaded up, Alastor opens the door for Rosie and offers his hand to help her up. One of the smaller shadow imps, chittering with pride, tugs on the hem of his pants to let him know they completed the repairs before fading.

“If you’re going to insist we not use horses you should figure out how to give those shadows bigger brains so you don’t have to drive them. It’d be more fun with you back here,” Rosie says as she climbs up.

“Horses need a driver, too,” Alastor says.

“Mine don’t.”

“Filthy beasts. I don’t know how you tolerate them, sweetheart.”

“They have better manners than you."

“Ha!” Alastor slams the door behind her. “Well, at least I’m better company.” She responds with a snide smirk he doesn’t see.

The rest of the journey passes without incident. The city of Hubris pales in comparison to Pentagram City in size, population, and taste. The annual extermination can knock its populace down to a large town if the exorcists so choose, and they have many times. From what Alastor gleaned after the last one, their numbers didn’t take such a drastic hit this year, so they shouldn’t have to scope out new locations.

They mesh so well on these outings, never falling out of synchronous, despite their hunting styles differing so drastically. Though Alastor’s fingers flex with the desire to stalk his prey until he catches them alone, and his lips twitch with the urge tear into muscle and sinew with his teeth, and broadcast their screams if they sing sweet enough for him, he restrains himself. They didn’t travel all the way here for their own appetites. Rosie stocked her Emporium with delicacies long before he entered her life; when they hunt for her, he follows her lead.

Alastor parks the carriage out of the way, with the shadowbeasts staying behind to guard it. Hopping down, he opens the door for her, offers his hand as she steps out, then offers his arm for them to walk together. She slips her arm through his with a smile, and they start their night.

Hubris lacks the more creative eccentrics that Pentagram City boasts. As such, the city feels simpler in comparison. Less colorful glowing signs, less boisterous architectural designs, and no Overlords dressing up an entire sector in their image. But what it lacks in flair, it makes up for with third spaces. The denizens of Hubris enjoy staying outdoors, making it more of a “city that never sleeps” than Pentagram City. Always an abundance of prey for them, no matter the hour.

She nudges him with her elbow when she sees one she wants, nodding in its direction. A canine-type with a decent build and bitter scowl sitting on a bench at the entrance to one of Hubris’ small parks. The arm looped in his receives a gentle squeeze, and then he dissolves into the shadows. She double-checks the single earring stayed put under the curl of her hair before approaching.

“Excuse me mister,” she calls, waiving to grab his attention. “Could I borrow your nose for a second? I lost an earring, I know it’s around here somewhere, but my eyesight’s awful if you can believe it,” she shows him the one earring and gestures up at her eyes with a sheepish smile. “There’s a reward in it if you want it, I’ve been searching forever.”

His bitter scowl morphs into an amused almost-smile. Standing up, he closes the gap between them to take a deep breath in her neck. “Sure thing, lady,” he drawls. “Better be money, though. You’re not my type.”

“Oh, thank you! Yes it’s money, you’re not my type either.” She giggles to keep the dig lighthearted.

He whiffs at the air for a moment before leading the way. She makes a show of looking around the ground, blocking him from the bustling street while a scent pulls him away from the crowd. The axe tied to her leg prevents her from bending at the knees, so she bends from her hips to fake inspecting the yellow grass.

Rounding a tall bush, the canine catches a glint of something shiny. He picks it up and calls, “hey lady, I found it.”

Slipping the axe free, she makes her way towards him. “Oh, thank you so much, what a relief!” The blunt side of the head cracks against his skull, followed by another hit to his neck to snap the vertebrae. Alastor materializes to send the body back to the carriage, where the shades will pack it up.

“That was too easy,” Rosie grumbles, “I think our warmup act spoiled me.”

“Well, we could always stir up some trouble,” Alastor says with a twinkle in his eye. At her hellish grin, he offers his arm once again, and they take off.

‘Stirring up trouble’ means causing a scene: loud enough to get their target’s attention, but subdued enough to only get their target’s attention. Rosie sets her sights on a trio: the only party dining outside at the one restaurant on this block with a patio. A fox, a bull, and something more or less human, all perfect sizes to round out the night.

She gives his arm a squeeze before walking down a side street, looping around the back of the block to an alleyway they’ve used in the past. A single, dying street light on the restaurant end illuminates the two feet underneath itself, and nothing more. Axe in hand, she lies in wait in the dark.

Alastor loves a good game of chase. He gets to play the pursued on these outings, which always gives him a thrill. A change of pace, made even better by the fact that no one in Hubris ever knows who who they’re chasing. One of the purest kinds of entertainment. He slows his gate to a stroll and hums a jazz tune. As he approaches, he hums louder so it catches the attention of the one seated to face him. Their eyes remain locked until Alastor steps within reach of their table, wherein his gaze falls onto the nearest plate.

“Doesn’t that just look delicious?” He exclaims. “Don’t mind if I do!”

The fox and human-ish one turn to look at him. Alastor swipes the steak off the bull’s plate and eats it in one bite. When the bull turns to growl at him, Alastor snatches his glass of wine as well, giving it a sip before swirling the liquid in the glass and walking away.

“Whoever chose this wine for that steak should be shot, they don’t pair at all,” Alastor mocks without turning his head.

Plates and glasses shatter behind him. One enraged “are you fucking kidding me?!” from the bull bellows over the aghast shouting of his friends. Cheap shoes and heavy hooves patter on the sidewalk behind him. Finishing the wine, he tosses the glass over his shoulder. He had to guess their proximity, but judging from their new angry sounds, it landed close enough. He can feel the ghost sensation of his shadow animating itself; making a face at them, no doubt. When the bull comes close enough to grab him, he breaks into a run.

Furious shouting and pounding footfalls reach Rosie’s ears at last. With a feral grin, she squares up in anticipation. Alastor rounds the corner into the alley, skidding to a stop and taking an offensive stance. She holds on him long enough to see his gesture of wait before the bull barrels through the edge of the building.

A beat, then she swings. The axe shaves a few hairs off the bull’s tail and embeds them in the humanoid one’s neck. She yanks it free and buries it in the back of the fox’s ankle before it can flee. A blood-curdling scream gurgles from behind her, wet sinew stretching and snapping.

“Don’t damage any of the goods, Alastor,” she scolds him, unable to keep the fondness and amusement out of her tone.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” he assures her, knowing well she has no use for the brute’s head.

His tentacles tighten around the bull’s neck and torso, pulling until the head rips free of the shoulders. With a snap, he conjures both whiskey barrels from the carriage, topping off the one from their ambushers before draining the rest into the second. Another tentacle strips pieces off the head for him to nibble on. Adoration warms his chest as he sits back to admire Rosie work.

They both fainted before she finished killing them, so their screams didn’t last long enough to alert any passer-byes. She drags them away from the dying light to finish stripping and dismembering them under the cover of darkness.

Alastor holds out his palm to offer her the brute’s eyes. Laughter blossoms from her as she accepts them, which brightens his smile. Her shoulders shake and she covers her mouth with her hand when she can’t stop them while she chews.

“Oh, dear, this all got away from me,” she says, standing up, “you know I prefer doing this at home. Those chuckle heads earlier got me all riled up.”

“And what a pleasure it is to witness,” Alastor says. “Enjoy it. It’s been a while since we let loose together, don’t you think?”

She hums, slipping her arm around his. “I s’pose it has. We made a mess when you were new. Has it really been that long?”

He sets the pace out of the alley. “Ages. Truthfully, I don’t think you let yourself blow off steam as much as you should.”

“My head has a lot less hot air in it than yours.”

They tease each other and laugh all the way back to the carriage. The shadowbeasts tied the two intact bodies to the roof and finished securing the whiskey barrels in the back. They return to the front of the coach when the pair come into view, ready to start the long haul back. Alastor prefers taking the carriage for this reason: so the people at home see and remember how dangerous Rosie is. An antiquated carriage carrying the spoils of a prevailing Overlord long feared for her cunning and blood thirst.

Alastor opens the door for her and offers his hand, as always. She uses it to step up, then drags him up and in behind her. His expression alone makes the move worth it.

“You are not leaving, mister,” she chides, “your little monsters know how we got here, they can follow our route back. Leaving me all alone back here for hours, where are your manners?”

He flails around in the seat opposite her to orient his limbs, matching her amused grin. “Of course, how horribly impolite of me to make sure we don’t barrel down the side of a cliff because they spot another road.”

“They’ll be fine. Me, on the other hand, I’ll go nuts with just my thoughts back here.”

The carriage starts forward with a snap of Alastor’s fingers. As they reminisce over the night’s events, and others, they relax into their seats with their legs intertwined. The ride home takes a few hours, but fortunately, they’re both amongst their favorite company.

[scraftyisthebest]

Thinking about Amethio. Looking at it, it seems like Amethio may in fact be a descendant of Gibeon himself. Now that we've seen what Gibeon actually looks like, he's very old and decrepit and confined to a bed, clearly artificially extending his lifespan beyond that which a human can viably live, and he has revealed that he knew Lucius in life, and that he was once friends with him and a fellow adventurer who travelled alongside him in his adventures. Clearly something went on back in their adventures that compelled Gibeon to keep living because he wants some form of closure, though I'm not sure how. This likely compelled him to form the modern-day Explorers. Diana recognized the name because in Lucius's time, the Explorers were Lucius's friends, and Gibeon, the current head, was one of them himself.

Everyone else in the group is clearly there for transactional purposes. Spinel and Chalce are the brains of the group, the researchers and intellectuals, who specialize in gathering and studying information together and in turn leading operations, since most of their operations so far have been led by at least one of Chalce or Spinel, if not both, with Chalce currently leading the operation to spy on Liko, Roy, and Dot at the Naranja Academy. Coral and Sidian seem to be the brawns of the group, two battle-loving and powerful Trainers who are dragged around by Spinel, Chalce, and Hamber to serve as firepower and backup when those three run operations, but their lust for battle often leads them to disobey orders and has also led to them having the most interactions with Liko and Roy in casual settings so far.

But Amethio seems to be rather special. Paralleling him and Liko, both him and Liko have matching hair colors to one of Gibeon or Lucius. Amethio has a black-and-white hair color scheme, which Gibeon himself actually has. Meanwhile Liko is strongly implied to be Lucius's descendant, having the same black-outside-blue-inside hair color scheme, which was also passed down to Diana. Gibeon and Lucius are fellow adventurers who knew one another back then, and it seems Amethio and Liko are their respective descendants who are the most recent members of Gibeon and Lucius's bloodlines.

Terapagos has been a big factor in this thus far. It specifically awakened in Liko's presence and protected her several times, and her presence has awakened Lucius's Pokemon one after another so far, eventually leading to Terapagos awakening permanently, all of which has led credence to the idea that Liko is Lucius's descendant.

But Terapagos in its awakened state specifically reacted to Amethio when the two finally looked each other in the eye, all the way back in Episode 25. This was interesting back then, but with what we now know about Gibeon, I think this further lends credence to the idea that Amethio may be Gibeon's descendant, especially since Terapagos most certainly knows Gibeon from the days he adventured alongside Lucius. Terapagos had no such reaction to any other Explorers member, but with Amethio specifically, it seemed to have some strong emotional reaction towards him, possibly of anger that Gibeon's descendant is on opposing sides with Lucius's descendant, and Terapagos seemed to be calling out to him. I think Terapagos may have seen Gibeon in Amethio, and realized Amethio is Gibeon's descendant and thus a reflection of Gibeon himself in Terapagos' eyes.

Amethio being a descendant of Gibeon would certainly explain his odd position amongst the Explorers. Perhaps this is why he's even in the organization, precisely because he's related to Gibeon by blood. Especially since in Gibeon's inability to act due to his body being barely functional, Hamber has acted as the acting leader on his behalf, and Hamber is noted several times to take very special care of Amethio, almost treating him like a son. His special treatment even goes so far as him being the only one with two dedicated subordinates in Zirc and Onia. Meanwhile the rest of the Explorers are basically just staff, most likely hired by Hamber for their skills but otherwise Hamber does not have any real attachment to them.

Hamber and Diana used to be friends but most likely at some point Hamber met Gibeon and formed the new Explorers with him, and Hamber might have known Diana was related to Lucius which is why he tried to recruit her, even though it ended with Diana refusing, and then Hamber eventually learning Liko had the pendant (which was really a dormant Terapagos). Sending Amethio first of all people to go after Liko and the pendant really feels like there was some meaning behind that choice, even though Gibeon and Hamber could've easily summoned Spinel or Chalce to do it first.

Amethio is going down an interesting path, but perhaps something interesting will happen with him with all this in mind. It's quite clear his and Liko's paths are ultimately intertwined, even if they first met on opposing sides as adversaries, which was the opposite of the original relationship of their implied ancestors Gibeon and Lucius who were friends. Amethio was likely raised in the life he is in, with no real path of his own, and is still trying to carve one even now, while Liko also started out with no real path of her own as well, but so far has been able to discover it thanks to meeting the Rising Volt Tacklers and most of all Roy and Dot. Amethio himself is trying to forge his own path and discover who he is like Liko is, but he doesn't have the same support network Liko has been given, since the rest of the admins don't like him or want to work with him, and he doesn't really have any peers he can call friends like Liko does.

I wonder how Amethio's relationship with the RVT and Explorers, most of all Liko, Friede, and Hamber, will change down the line in this regard.

A lot of thoughts here lol.

[cat-mentality]

Not, like, to passar o pano to everything like a fool or to sound too delusional but like.................... the Federation coming up on the last moments to save the day makes sense.

Okay, hear me out.

The whole point of the Federation is to make the Islanders happy, to make sure they enjoy the Island and shut the fuck up about anything else that may be going one.

They have them the eggs. So that they could go around and play house and to make the Island feel like a home so that they didn't try to leave.

They made them fragile, so that they could be used as bait, as they could subtly keep people in line by making it clear that they could take the eggs away as easily as they gave them. I like to think the nightmares are actually real, but that the Federation just decided to act and restore the egg's life and make everything feel like a bad dream (Since we KNOW they can bring the kids back, as seen with Flippa, and also mess up with people's memories).

But even so the Islanders start to hate them. They hate the Federation and they rebel against them, they are neither enjoying the Island or playing nice like the Federation wants them to and that is not acceptable something has to be done.

They try, but they fucking fail every single time, in fact they basically make it worse.

And then the eggs run away and the Islanders go missing.

Of course the Federation will jump ship to save the kids the moment they discover where they may be.

What better way to make the Islanders happy? They were out of control when the kids are missing and blaming the Federation the one time they are actually innocent, the only way to fix it would be to push themselves into the savior role and bring them back

Present the kids with a smile and a subtle "Look at us. Look at us doing what you failed to. You tried to bring them back and you failed, you almost lost them, but we brought them back, we rescued and took care of them, we gave them a extra life, aren't we nice? Aren't we great?", putting themselves as the saviors, as the heroes, as more powerful than the Islanders, as able to take care of them better than they can take care of themselves. (Breaking serious analysis to say: Mother knows best vibes. Literally the Federation is fucking Gothel)

Everything is perfect now! The kids are back, there are new kids for them to love, the Island is as good as new again!

No one has to pay attention to those who are still missing. They are gone! Don't you see, we went to the Island and we didn't find them, they are gone (how fucking tragic that those missing are the loose lines, the worker who they know they can't trust, the experiments who knew too much, the infected islander, the man who couldn't keep himself out of their bussiness), what a tragedy. But focus on the children! They are so weak and fragile now, they need all your attention, you wouldn't want them to be sad would you?

And now this.

Now there is this entity wrecking havoc, putting the children at risk, destroying everything when things are still trying to be fixed.

And the Islanders can't do a fucking thing against him.

But the Federation can. They know they can. But they wait, they wait until the last seconds, they let them try, they let them plot, they let them die.

And when they are desperate, when they are begging for their help, when they have no other choice, that's the moment the Federation comes.

They come and they fix the issue easily.

The heroes, yet again, taking a away the danger, saving the children. Another message "You can't do this without us. You are weak, helpless, what would you do without us? Don't you see? You need us."

Of course the Federation will come and save the day over and over again, they want to make sure the Islanders feel they depend on them.

[hecksupremechips]

Shinjiham is cute when it’s romantic but tbh I think i vastly prefer the idea of them being best friends instead. Like, neither of them really saw it coming and weren’t really looking to get another best friend (Shinji has Akihiko, Kotone has Junpei and Yukari respectively) but it happens anyway. Kotone takes a liking to Shinji much faster than she does anyone else and I’d say a big reason is just the fact that he’s so reserved that it allows Kotone to do most of the talking while he just listens and they love this arrangement cuz Kotone doesn’t get to talk about her own interests very much. Though I think some of her needs to talk to Shinji stems from this insecurity that he isn’t happy in the group and she has this people pleasing problem and wants everyone to be happy so she makes a much bigger effort to talk to Shinji. And it’s very unfortunate because Shinji intentionally acts cold and distant because he doesn’t want to form any attachments because he wants to die soon, but aaaaaaaagh dammit this girl just keeps talking to him and being sweet and encouraging him to engage in his interests and share them with the others and he just can’t seem to say no when she’s got those damn puppy eyes. And Kotone is just able to get him out of his shell by being persistent but not in an overwhelming way, she’s very cheerful and supportive of him. And Shinji is able to offer her support by encouraging her to talk about herself and by making sure she’s taking care of herself. They just click really well and make such a positive dent in each other’s lives and it’s all about basic acts of kindness going a long way you know?

[zvaigzdelasas]

.

[waywardsalt]

Ganonbeck has true Jessica & Roger Rabbit energy. A sublime immortal + some stinky sailor he found.

One of the Links, signing: "Seriously, why do you see in that guy?"

Ganondorf: "He makes me laugh"

Ganonbeck is a funny little ship and it is entertaining to think about what (any, I guess) of the various Links would think of it.

(I have not seen Who Framed Roger Rabbit so I can't say a whole lot on the comparison but I think I get it? I read the wikipedia page for it)

[ohfugecannada]

Flora Colossai/Groot Headcanon 1/?: Diet and Eating

Though they can mostly sustain themselves on water and sunlight like most plants and trees, The Flora colossi are technically opportunistic omnivores. They can/will eat solid food such as fruit, vegetables and/or even meat if the circumstances call for it.

When they are driven to hunt, flora colossi can use their shapeshifting powers to make themselves look like non-sentient trees and ambush prey of small to medium-sized animals.

Though, again, most modern day Flora Colossi sustain themselves fine on water/sunlight a good chunk of the time, so eating solid foods like fruit or meat is pretty much optional for them.

Flora Colossi such as the Guardians of the galaxy’s Groot even seem to enjoy eating solid food for fun. Particularly in social situations like when he’s with teammates such as Rocket.

[weedle-testaburger]

i finally got round to watching godzilla minus one and the contrast between it and godzilla vs kong 2 is night and day, damn

[rawliverandgoronspice]

the zoras are keeping me from finishing my outline, I don't know how to fit these damn fish with the rest of the story and it's!!!!!! frustrating

[arcaneyouth]

started making a power point presentation about my ocs, made 2 slides, and then just stopped. i <3 creativity

[musical-chick-13]

Maybe I’ve just been Thinking Too Much About the Concept of Justice due to...currently watching....something (Idon’twannatalkaboutit)..........but GENUINELY the way most of y’all talk about the death penalty and about ANYONE who decides to go through law school for ANY reason is terrifying.

[un-pearable]

i have zero desire to actually get into dragon ball but damn do some of their character concepts slap

[zrllosyn]

3, 9, and 30 for the weirdly specific artist asks if you’d like !!

Oh heck yeah sure!! Thanks for the ask :DD

3. What ideas come from when you were little

Not 100% sure what this means, but I drew a TON of dragons when I was little and I draw them less now, but I still draw em! (mainly for flight rising)

Also the stories I came up with and drew back then were super dark or bizarre and uh, thats a trend thats continuing i think. I like angst.

9. What are your file name conventions

Most of the time the names are pretty literal?? If its a doodle file where there's just pages and pages of doodles its usually titled the story or AU I'm making doodles of. If its a properly rendered piece, it usually gets a 'title' of some sort. Sometimes the titles suck though but hey, uh, it works?

I also usually have to export 3 different versions, so you get like a proper title followed with '-compressed' and '-compressed 2' and so on as I figure out how crunchy i have to make it before it uploads on some websites.

30. What piece of yours do you think is underrated

From this year? The Curse of Your God, probably. It got the reception I expected, (its super bloody after all), but like. MAN i spent so much time on that thing. I really like how it turned out, with its effects and the background.

Another one, from last year, is probably this one picture i drew for KC's Birthday. Recreating an oil painting-ish style was a first for me, and also took forever. I do like the results though!! I think it turned out well, especially considering how it was my first time trying something like that.