#Just Thinking...

[rib0mbees]

I think the c!phil beginnings animatic recontextualizes a lot of the c!sam backstory they shared together. Because phil was an inventor himself. And he was convinced he could do anything. He was smart and scrappy and wanted to be “more”. Do something great. But his hubris and overconfidence got in the way. He pushed too far and he died for it. And phil can see himself like that in young inventor sam. He can see already sam’s hubris in the cloning and artificial immortality. He knows it’s gonna be sam’s downfall.

And he knows Kristin won’t be there to catch Sam in her good graces like she did for Phil.

[basketobread]

honestly i wish i had a powerful enough computer where i could stream my gameplay of lunara's campaign... i just think it would be sooo fun to play with like 2 people watching me absolutely flop the combat and rolls

[hooked-on-elvis]

[kurenainospeedyjumper]

hanto being the first person to question if gavv is a human instead of calling him a monster at first glance is gonna hit like a truck later isnt it

[gaoau]

just thinking...

two in fall and one in winter.

pairing — kugisaki nobara x fem!reader word count — 1.5k warnings — spoilers for chapter 124 / s2 ep8 onwards

it's ambiguous. it has been for quite some time. everyone pretends not to know anything; everyone pretends not to hear.

the sky is crystal clear as [name] stares at the vibrant cyan expanse, so high up it seems farther out of reach than it used to before. the gaps between the naked leaves sneer down at her; nothing but a jarring reminder of the emptiness left behind by the bleak winter. she fails to understand her own reasons for fearing letting go. there's nothing to let go of, though. she doesn't know what it is she should be letting go. no one has told her what to do from here on out. no one has even bothered talking to her at all.

it's so ambiguous. it's so ambiguous that it almost tears her apart inside and outside. it pulls at the seams with uncertainty because no one ever dares to even pronounce nobara's name anymore. among her trusted upperclassmen, one holds no information she can pry out of him, and the other one barely allows questioning. fushiguro refuses to be cooperative, acting as brooding and mysterious as he's always done, but what good are those traits of him now that [name] is desperate for answers? not to mention itadori—not to mention cute, bubbly, friendly, reassuring itadori. not to mention him and the fact that no one's informed him of anything either. not to mention him and the guilt in his eyes whenever he catches sight of [name]'s grief. not to mention him and [name]'s unjustified anger towards his failure to keep nobara alive during that battle in shibuya.

she's deflecting. she knows she is. she's firmly prohibiting her own face and pains from changing. she's forcing a defense mechanism onto her loss because she doesn't know what she's lost. she doesn't know if the story has come to an end and she's supposed to move on. she doesn't know how much hope she should be holding out for. she doesn't know why now that nobara's not here to chat her ear off with trivial issues, suddenly she's missing her presence.

it all comes back to haunt her in echoes of adoration. the way nobara mercilessly used her to haul all of her bags while strolling through the bustling streets of tokyo. bags upon bags hanging off her tired arms, boxes upon boxes piling up on her sore palms. nobara threatened her to never drop a single one of her precious items. [name] had heard those same words pointed towards itadori, followed by seeing the poor boy cowering in utter fear in the middle of chattering crowds. she had instantly agreed to fushiguro's offer to escape those two idiots before they got dragged into their dramatic scene.

when a bag fell once, all on their own, the two of them together by themselves. when nobara whipped around, glare burning with the passion of a billion suns. when she stomped over to [name] as she waited for the oncoming string of curses. when she growled so gently, "careful with that one, [name]! it's for you!" when she snatched it off the floor and kept it safe in her hands until they returned to the dorms.

now she's missing all that. the sheer pressuring terror of accidentally dropping one of nobara's brand new purchases, the grating sound of her voice barking at [name] to make sure she was following close behind, the excited sparkle in her glimmering brown eyes when she spotted an unvisited store. all of it, so annoying, pushing down on [name], tightening her chest and squeezing the air out of her lungs. treated like nothing more than a handy slave. treasured like a dear friend who she was willing to spend money on.

[name] fails to understand her own reasons. if it was all so annoying, if now she's free of exhausting shopping sprees, why is she crying so loudly? why won't the tears stop flowing?

she doesn't want to repeat answers she already knows. she demands those answers no one has yet given her. "show me a grave, give me her hammer, tell me she's dead. i don't care, just let me have some—" and her words fall on deaf ears as fushiguro slams another door on her face. her. her. her. it was always her and never nobara. her name hasn't been spoken since.

the uncontrollable wrath that overcame [name] when itadori showed up unscathed and asked the same questions as her. the audacity of that boy. she was on him faster than his sharp reflexes could react. she knew and she still knows how unjustified her grudge is, but what other choice does she have when her last memories of nobara are those of her mangled body lying in a grotesque puddle of her own blood? plenty of fond moments she could look back on, yet all of them are stained and dripping in the horror of that last time she ever saw her.

[name] catches the tears streaming down her cheeks with the back of her hand. one after the other, they won't stop coming no matter how many times she wipes them away. nobara would have laughed at her.

her back brushes against the fragile trunk of the apple tree she planted with her own two hands. it's growing, strong and healthy. she's proud of herself for such a deed. in the midst of the culling game, she makes sure to drop by the school every now and then to watch over it—to mourn.

it rings in her ears like another painful echo, this time louder. adoration, something stronger. a tight bond, so close, so intimate.

nobara didn't want to stick her hands into the dirt and get soil underneath her nails. [name] tugged at her wrists to force her to help out. "come on! it's not every day you get to plant a tree!" for good reason. it's not every day one gets to form such a powerful memory. how dangerous it can be when the tree shall outlive the people.

carving a whole into the ground, hauling the sapling into it, spreading the dirt as evenly as possible. [name] took care of tying it to keep it straight while nobara whined about how dry her skin felt after labor. she was sipping from a water bottle, gazing as [name] admired their tough work, when she turned towards her with a grin.

"you've planted a tree. now all you got left is writing a book and having a child."

"having a child? we already have itadori."

[name]'s chuckles were source of energy for the apple tree and nobara herself. "then what'll you write your book about?"

"about that time i planted a tree."

a tree she left behind. a tree that remains. a tree that thrives, so why doesn't her future thrive as well? where has her future gone?

growing every moment stronger, tighter, brighter. another flashback of sweet, innocent love. the color of the sky and the scent of the fall breeze. days prior to halloween, before they understood what a life surrounded by curses meant for the two of them. if she didn't know any better, [name] would agree with herself for once, comparing this bleak december sunset to an evening in october and painting them in the same feeling.

she remembers. she thinks and she remembers. she thinks too much. the growing apple tree behind her casts its frail shadow over her folded body. snapping pictures of nobara's outline against the setting sun, against the vibrant pinks blending into burning oranges. her body, her clothes, her hair, her expression all covered in the darkest shade of deepest black. the same way the night gobbles [name] up in her own memories.

one more sob rips from her throat, because she remembers. that chilly day of dried leaves crunching beneath their feet. that fleeting moment when nobara got a bit too bold. she feels her heart ache, thumping loudly in her chest, regretting not cherishing more how it had skipped. the butterflies, the giddiness, the softness, the knowledge that she touched heaven with her hands the instant nobara stole an unannounced kiss.

all those could-have-beens overflowing. it skips and it hurts and it's so numb. reality simply refuses to sink in—[name] doesn't allow it to sink in. she doesn't know what reality is anymore. if all that comes after this last round is loneliness and an empty hole, then she'd much rather let it continue like this.

the shadows hold her close as she thinks. there's nothing wrong with wanting or holding out for hope.

[name] rises from the ground, stretching sore muscles towards the night sky. she winces at the popping of her spine. a sniffle replaces the endless tears. "i wonder what we'll eat for dinner…" her eyes flicker back to the growing apple tree. there are no crunching leaves beneath her feet as she walks away.

—あごす (agosu) • 2021

[sankttealeaf]

i fear i may have to write a horrible ending where gortash does anything he can to get rue's memories back

rue, exhausted from her sleep being plagued with night terrors from her past, hating the taste of noblestalk now, stuck in a room with no windows and the only person she properly gets to see is gortash... thats enough to drive anyone to the brink of madness

rue "just let me die" lastname vs enver "you wouldnt say that - try it again" gortash

i think its gone past him wanting her memories back and has dipped into him molding her into what he wants. thats a fun concept. whats better than having a bhaalspawn willingly at your side? when you leash it up and let it become the weapon you desire, of course!

theres no good ending that involves them both!!!!! not at all!!!!

[chirpsythismorning]

[galebrainrott]

Gale x poet bard Tav

And they just spit poetry and romantic verbage at each other the entire game and the rest of the party is like

"NRRGRHGGH SHUT UP!"

Gale x music bard Tav

Tav writes a song about Gale and sings it to him. He's so shocked and flattered and amused and almost overwhelmed by the Love.

(Francesca by Hozier or Sea of Love by Cat Power)

Gale x fighter Tav

Gale usually takes a safer position during fights (a little bit behind everyone else) and one time, an enemy sneaks up on him. Before he gets hit, fighter Tav runs up and completely maims the enemy.

[seabunnieart]

listen.

jade as a survivor to counter floyd as a hunter. it's what the tweels would of wanted okay- they're just goofing around. but it seems violent, and it kinda is. but floyd and jade are brothers, they fuck around with one another all the time. and honestly you could slap some sad reasoning onto it too if you wanted.

[rennelelorren]

I think there's not enough content with Sokka...do I need to do something with that 🤔

[cogbreath]

i dont want to be nitpicky but i kinda question if a photo from a party 10 yrs ago + the fact the trainer they hired for the john wick movies was in the iof is sufficiently enough to say keanu reeves is a zionist ? like has he said anything currently? dont get me wrong im not trying to downplay ...

like what im saying here is i feel that many people would be skeptical of this because of the fact that the first was 10 years ago and that the other thing is (as far as i know) something he isnt in charge of (hiring of the trainers for the movies.)

like it feels a bit of a stretch to say his ideology is zionist from that, but it does imply he's comfortable/okay with it.

i couldnt find anything where he says anything he seems to be another "neutral" actor if anything. but i didn't dig deep either.

which dont get me wrong i find it also unacceptable to be silent.

but also im not invested in defending him in particular im just thinking the case with him is that its probable rather than it is definite.



[8-rae-rae-8]

Maybe I'll drabble a little in x reader stuff

[silverofthunder]

...

i'm not sure if i'm exhausted because i've been creating stuff (writing, drawing etc.) so much latery or if it's just because autumn has started...

probably latter (i'm always tired during autumn), though i kinda feel like i've been creating too much for some reason, too.

maybe it wouldn't hurt to take a little break from creating...

[ritzcuit]

ppl are afraid of genres i think. idk. i wonder. Bc i get it. "i dont know what counts as x genre!" but it's like. take a guess then maybe. Well but it's hard to encourage ppl...bc dumb mean cunts will be like "omfg i cant believe you called that CLEARLY dreampop band a shoegaze band" ... but those ppl don't count. we should be nicer ok. make guesses. most big genres are easy to identify once you learn their traits, and smaller microgenres are fake bullshit tht are almost entirely arbitrary...

[bolyde]

Rolan approaches magic as a science that can be an art.

While he is a sorcerer and it's significantly easier for him to engage with the weave, he also is incredibly curious about the rules surrounding the functions of magic.

There is, to a degree, some shame that comes with being a sorcerer who is also a wizard. Most of the shame comes from internal thoughts that he is somehow cheating or has an easier time given that his gifts are innate, and further more Rolan believes that other people think that far more often than they do if they're aware of that fact.

He likes to learn and do well and earn credit off of the merit of his work. He's proud of the spells he's created and the skills he's managed to build and teach himself over the years. It's part of the reason that his apprenticeship with Lorroakan was such an important milestone to him, he finally felt as if his hard work was being truly rewarded.

When individuals ask him why he invests so much time into his studies as a wizard when he doesn't need to, it does genuinely make him upset, because it feels like a way to undermine all the work he has put in to get to where he is.

[ghirahimbo]

someday I'm going to find the right story to lean into the potential of the Sheikah to have cult-like dynamics like I'm kind of dying to do...