#maybe there's a reason they feel the need to prepare for an invasion?? | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sokoviansimp · 8 months

Note

Hi so for the package AU from the prompt list you just reblogged can you write 29 and 8? for wanda and y/N? pleasE? also ily and i hope you have a great day

Invasion

✒ Pairings: WandaNat x child!Reader (platonic)

✒ Summary: What happens the first time Y/N gets hurt in Wanda’s care? - with prompt dialogues

29. "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry."

8. "Are you hurt?"

✒ Tags and Warnings: gunshot wound, invasion

✒ Author's Note: So sorry for the wait, I basically rewrote the events of this twice.

✒ Word Count: 2483

✒ Read Time: 12 minutes

Masterlist : Socials

The Avengers compound hummed with activity as the team prepared for an important mission. The team was tasked with thwarting an imminent threat from a nefarious group seeking to exploit a powerful artifact. As the team gathered their gear and reviewed their plans, you watched with wide-eyed fascination. You wanted nothing more than to be part of the action, like your superhero guardians.

Wanda crouched down to your eye level. "Remember, sweetie, this mission is too dangerous for you. You'll stay here with Nat," she said, her voice filled with motherly concern as she saw the sparkle in your eye as you fantasized about being with the team.

You pouted but reluctantly nodded. You understood the dangers, but that didn't stop you from feeling left out. "Okay, Mama."

The mission was set to begin at sunset. As the Avengers geared up and made their final preparations, you watched from the sidelines. Wanda and Nat had promised to keep you safe, and they both took that promise seriously.

With a heavy heart, Wanda glanced at you. "I know you're disappointed, love, but I need you to stay here. It's just too risky for you."

Your big, innocent eyes filled with tears. You understood the need for safety, but your heart ached to be with your beloved Mama. "I'm scared, Mama." you mumbled out barely above a whisper.

Wanda's heart clenched at the vulnerability in your voice. She knelt down and hugged you tightly. "I promise Nat will protect you, Y/N. Nothing will happen to you, I swear."

“Not me, you.” You explained. You had no reason to worry about your own safety, but Wanda was going on a grave mission, you couldn’t help but worry that something may happen.

“Me? Detka, I’ll be ok. We all have each other’s back.” Wanda assured you, she hadn’t even thought about her own safety to be frank, too busy worrying about how you would react to being without her. Though, maybe that’s what motherhood is all about, always putting your child first. Their feelings, their happiness, and their safety.

“Pwomise?” you wondered looking up at Wanda with doe wide eyes and pure innocence.

“I promise that I will do everything in my power to come home to you safe and sound.” She clarified. Even though unlikely, Wanda couldn't bring herself to make a promise she didn’t have the full power to keep. There was always a chance something could happen to her in missions like these and you both knew it.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, the Avengers embarked on their mission. You and Nat standing by watching them depart, your small hand tightly gripping Nataha’s. The compound felt empty and eerily quiet without the usual banter and laughter of the team.

Hours passed, and the tension in the compound grew palpable. Nat kept one eye on the security feeds, monitoring the team's progress. Unable to sleep, you pushed any hesitation you still harbored for Nat aside as you clung to her side like a lifeline. The minutes stretched into hours as you tried to find comfort in your stuffed animal and Natasha’s closeness.

Taking Natasha’s attention away from monitoring the team, an emergency alert blared through the compound. Her heart skipped a beat as she read the message: " Multiple intruders detected. High Alert. Seek safety immediately."

Normally this wouldn’t phase Natasha, but with you to protect, fear gripped her nervous system, and she scooped you into her arms. "Stay close, kid. We need to go to the safe room." With you in tow, she rushed through the corridors, heart pounding with dread. Her first priority was getting you to safety, “How many are we looking at FRIDAY?” she said aloud to the Artificial Assistant.

“I count 7 armed soldiers and 2 unarmed, Miss Romanoff. Would you like me to deploy the nano recon drones for more real-time data of the base?” FRIDAY responded with limited emotion in her voice.

“Deploy the recons and the defense droids, and notify Fury!” she demanded as continued to rush you to safety. On the verge of tears, you waverly spoke, “Natty? What noise is dat?”

“We just need to go to the safe room, Y/N. Someone is here,” she explained as she tactically rushed you across the compound.

You wanted to ask who, but soon enough, you couldn't hold back your tears anymore. The loud noise, the frantic state that Nat was in, and the lack of Wanda all came crashing over you. Even when Natasha seemingly kept her cool as she checked corners and cleared hallways before ushering you along, you could tell that something was very wrong.

“Shhh, everything is going to be okay, I’m not going to let anything happen to you, ok?” Nat tried to reassure you but your tears continued to fall.

Once you got to the safe room, Natasha instructed you not to let anyone else in, no matter who they said they were and to be as silent as you could, before rushing back out to take control back of the building.

“Any idea on what their play is here?” she questioned FRIDAY, trying to put the pieces together, as she left you to gather the weapons she needed to take on such a group. There was nothing on the radar that would’ve led the team to foresee this event happening. Especially now, when everyone is away.

“Intent is Unknown,” FRIDAY informed.

Was that it? Everyone is away, in fact, everything they’d been following for the last 2 months pointed toward this weekend in Glasgow. Was it a distraction?

Pulled from her thoughts, Tony’s name came buzzing through her phone. “Romanoff,” Nat greeted like any other phone call as if she wasn’t in the middle of a dire situation.

“Nat, everything ok there? I’m seeing alerts come through.” Tony queried, optimistically hoping something may have unintentionally triggered the alarms, even though he had taken extra precautions to block unintentional triggers.

“Here? Oh yeah, everything is great. You know, except the gang of at least 9 trying to take over the compound. Peachy, really.” Nat sarcastically replied, she wasn’t upset with Tony, but it was one of her coping mechanisms in times like this, “How’s everything in your neck of the woods?” she wondered, trying to see if her theory had any ground.

“Surprisingly quiet. I’m sending you some help,” Tony said as he deployed suits and more equipment to help fight alongside Natasha.

“Thanks, I have a feeling Glasgow was a distraction,” she uttered as she marched toward the invaders.

Amidst the dimly lit corridors of the Avengers' high-tech compound, The Black Widow stood alone. The emergency alarms blared in the background, casting eerie crimson lights that danced across her sleek black suit. The once-peaceful sanctuary had been infiltrated by a group of highly trained armed guards, and Natasha was the last line of defense.

“Hey, Fellas!” Nat cheekily shouted towards them

The guards, clad in tactical gear and armed to the teeth, advanced on Natasha with cold determination. They moved in unison, their footsteps echoing ominously against the cold, metallic floors. Natasha could hear their synchronized breaths, a chilling reminder that she was outnumbered.

With a flick of her wrist, Natasha activated her Widow's Bite, sending electrifying shocks coursing through her fingertips. The room's lights momentarily flickered, casting eerie shadows as her attackers closed in.

The first guard lunged forward, wielding a baton. Natasha sidestepped his attack with grace, her movements fluid as water. She delivered a swift kick to his chest, sending him crashing into his comrades.

A second guard opened fire with an assault rifle, spraying bullets in Natasha's direction. She rolled behind a nearby pillar, bullets whizzing past her. Her keen reflexes and agility kept her one step ahead of the deadly hail of gunfire.

From the shadows, she launched a pair of electrified Widow's Bite disks. They struck two guards, incapacitating them instantly. The room was filled with the acrid smell of burnt fabric as their uniforms smoked.

Amidst the chaos of the compound invasion, as Natasha fought valiantly to protect their home, a sudden surge of determination welled up within you. Being safely tucked away in the secure room, you could hear the sounds of the struggle outside and it gnawed at you, filling your mind with a mixture of fear and courage. What if something happened to Nat? You could prevent it.

With small, trembling hands, you pushed open the heavy door of the safe room. Your heart pounding in your chest as you took hesitant steps toward the fray. You watched Natasha, in her awe-inspiring Black Widow suit, fighting against the row of heavily armed intruders with incredible skill.

Then, You watched her take some punches and you couldn't just stand there. You have powers too, powers you’re still learning to control. With a deep breath, you focused your thoughts, trying to remember what Wanda had taught you about harnessing your abilities.

As the guards closed in on Natasha, your eyes glowed with a faint, cyan hue. Your small hands extended outward, palms out, and concentrated. Vibratory waves emanated from your palm, a powerful force that rippled through the air like invisible shockwaves.

The sudden disturbance caught the invaders off guard. Staggering and stumbling back, their weapons falling from their hands as they tried to maintain their balance. Natasha seized the opportunity, delivering swift and precise blows to disarm them.

But in your determination to help, you had left yourself vulnerable. One of the guards managed to regain his composure and, in a desperate act, fired his weapon in your direction. The shot rang out, and a searing pain lanced through your left shoulder.

Before Natasha could even catch sight of the bullet, you were on the ground crying in pain. Both Tony’s drone and Natasha swiftly subdued the last of the guards and she rushed to your side. Her heart ached with worry as she gently cradled you in her arms.

As soon as the bullet made impact, Wanda could sense that something wasn’t right, even from miles away. It was as though an invisible thread had been pulled taut, stretching across the miles that separated you. Her brow furrowed in concern as she continued to sense that something was terribly wrong back at the compound. She couldn't put her finger on it, but her maternal instincts told her that you were in danger.

Wanda began running through every option she has to get to you. Would using her powers be faster? What if she used her powers on the jet, could she make it go quicker without overloading the engines?

After weighing her options, she went with the latter. The team had already reversed course once they discovered it was a set up, “Hang on tight,” she said before supercharging the engines.

“Wanda, what are you doing?” Clint managed to get out as he was smushed against his seat from the G-Force.

“Y/N is hurt. I can feel it.”

When she finally arrived at the compound, her fears were realized. The sight that greeted her was both heart-wrenching and heartwarming. She found Natasha cradling you in her arms, your face contorted in pain but also displaying a remarkable resilience.

Wanda rushed to your side, her eyes filled with concern. "Y/N! Natasha!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling. She knelt beside you, “Are you hurt?” she frantically asked, her hands glowing with a soft, soothing light as she assessed the extent of your injuries.

Natasha looked up, relief washing over her features as she saw Wanda. "Wanda, i’m sorry, i- i’m so sorry, i put her in the safe room and she tried to help-," Natasha explained, her voice laced with fear of wandas wrath and admiration for your bravery. "She used her powers to protect us, but she got hurt in the process."

“Mama, miss you!” you gasped through clenched teeth.

Wanda's heart swelled with a mixture of pride and concern as she looked down at you. Gently stroking your forehead, she used her powers to ease the pain. "You're so brave, little one," she whispered, her eyes filled with tears. "I'm here now, and I'll make sure you're okay."

Though clearly in pain, you managed a weak but heartfelt smile as you looked up at Wanda.

Even though Wanda was upset that you were caught in the crossfire, she couldn’t blame Natasha. She understood that Natasha, like herself, cares deeply for your well-being and did everything in her power to protect you during the invasion. The priority for both of them was getting you fixed up.

Wanda paced nervously alongside Natasha in the compound's infirmary while you lay on a medical bed, receiving treatment for the gunshot wound.

Natasha reached out to gently place a hand on Wanda's shoulder. "She's going to be okay, Wanda. The doctors are doing everything they can."

Wanda nodded, but her brow was furrowed with concern. "I know, Nat. I just can't believe she came out of that safe room. She's so young, and she shouldn't have been in danger."

Natasha sighed, understanding Wanda's anxiety. "I get it, Wanda. I tried to keep her safe, but she's got that Stark stubbornness, you know? She was determined to help."

Wanda looked at Natasha with a mix of gratitude and worry. "I appreciate that you were here to protect her, I just wish it was different, I wish I had been here, we should have been more careful. She's just a child."

Natasha nodded in agreement. "You're right, Wanda. We should have been more careful about sending everyone on a wild goose chase. But you know how determined she can be. She wanted to help because she’s seen you and me doing what we do."

Wanda sighed, her shoulders slumping with fatigue and relief. "I know, and I'm proud of her courage, but I, I just hate to see her in danger like this. She can’t take after us, I never want her to be in danger again."

Natasha squeezed Wanda's shoulder reassuringly. "We'll keep her safe, Wanda. We're a team, remember? And we'll make sure she knows the importance of staying out of harm's way."

Wanda finally met Natasha's gaze, and there was a softness in her eyes. "Thank you, Nat, for protecting her. I don't know what I would have done if something had happened to her."

Natasha smiled gently. "We're her family, Wanda. We'll always do whatever it takes to keep her safe." she noted as she enveloped Wanda in a comforting embrace. Sinking into the hug, Wanda clung to Nat as she buried her face into her neck and relaxed into the arms of her lover.

As they continued to watch over your recovery, the couple knew that they would need to work together to ensure a balance between protecting the child they loved and nurturing your independence and bravery.

Taglist: @mymommawanda@livslifeonline@reggierizzoli@mythixmagic@lesbicentism@marvelogic@katethewriter @inluvwithfictionalwomen @spooky-reader1 @marvelogic @kissforvoid @pono-pura-vida

#the package au #sokoviansimp fics #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff fanfiction #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda marvel #wanda maximoff x you #anon ask #bry answers #wanda mcu #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff x child!reader #natasha romanoff x child!reader #child!reader #avengers compound #natasha romanoff mommy #ask bry #mommy wanda #mama wanda

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lambsouvlaki · 9 months

Text

For the Hell of It - Anniversary

Characters: Jason Todd x fem!oc

Rating and warnings: G, no warnings.

Word count: 1,800

Summary: After two years together, Jason takes her out somewhere special for their anniversary.

Masterlist

It was mid morning when Jason called.

That was deeply unusual, this month especially. He had been so busy lately she barely saw him except for the days she got up and found him dead to the world on the other side of her bed.

Idly cataloguing the possible reasons for the call, Andy turned down the radio and stepped away from her laptop.

A serious injury? Unlikely, that call typically came from Alfred and would have happened three hours ago. Location compromised, maybe? Pretty good chance, although it wasn’t usually a call but an emergency alert telling her to get her ass out the door. Maybe he was loopy on fear-toxin antidote again and needed to hear she was still alive.

Most likely situation was Jason calling to tell her he was leaving the country, or the planet, or possibly the universe. Given the timing, it would be… well. Not crushing, but disappointing.

Two years into this relationship, she knew better than to get too precious about calendar dates.

“Hello?” she said with a jaunty tilt of her head. No pre-emptive sulking, she refused.

“Hey beautiful,” Jason’s voice came through the little speaker. It was warm and low. “I’ve missed your voice.”

Her eyebrows rose and relief lit up her face. “Did you just? I’ve got a presentation tomorrow that needs some rehearsing, want to listen to my dulcet tones talk about community support funding?”

He laughed. “I would actually, but I’d rather hear the whole story from the beginning. Are you free this saturday?”

“Hmm, am I free this saturday?” she drawled. “On our anniversary?”

“Yup, that saturday.”

“Why, yes, baby, I think I am. Why do you ask?”

“You’re not free anymore. I’m calling dibs.”

“Oh?” She dared to feel not just relief but anticipation.

“8pm. I’ll come get you.”

“Alright. How am I dressing? Steel capped boots? Running shoes? Ballet flats?” She had learned the vital importance of this question since going out with him. Jason’s plans were best faced prepared.

“Heels,” he said, and she could hear the smirk in his voice. “Wear that slinky red number you hide at the back of the closet.”

She paused. Of course he’d seen it. “I’ve… never actually worn that before.”

“What did you get it for then?” he asked, teasing.

“Oh, you know. Maybe I’ll get invited to the Oscars.”

He laughed, low and promising. “I’ll make you feel like you did.”

She bit her lip. She was grinning like an idiot, alone in her own apartment. Two years in and she could still melt her with a word.

“Okay.”

“I’ll see you Saturday, sweetheart.”

They hung up and she drifted to her closet, eyeing up the dress.

He couldn’t make their first anniversary. The planet was under an invasion while Bruce was off-world dealing with some other, separate invasion, so Jason and Dick split up cowl temping duties. Dick went to go play Batman with the Justice League and Jason stayed to play Batman in Gotham.

He was more than capable of it and the average criminal didn’t even realise there was a different guy under the cowl. They just thought Batman was feeling extra mean this month. But it more than doubled his workload.

It didn’t blindside her. They were both disappointed but didn’t make a fuss, they had a system in place for these things. Both made compromises and extended grace to the other, and their relationship was stronger for it.

All the same, when Saturday night rolled around and she heard the purr of a car rolling up outside, excitement fizzed in her chest like bubbles in champagne.

She put on her finishing touches and went out to meet him.

Jason waited for her in a perfectly tailored black suit. He didn’t fancy himself up very often, or ever, in fact. Having him dressed up was more of a luxury than the McLaren sports car he was leaning against.

She drank in the sight of him. He looked like he could put Brucie Wayne to shame. The smirk on his face completed the ensemble.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said.

She wore her floor length evening dress, with a halter neck and the most indulgent plunging neckline she had ever worn, to say nothing of the split in the skirt. It was also bright red. She felt a little shy in it, but it wasn’t a dress for hiding in. She had towering black stilettos on her feet and a lazy swing in her hips. She wanted him to look his fill.

His eyes roamed over her with open appreciation. They were shortly followed by his hands, settling on her hips. He pulled her to him.

How was he still so much taller than her?

He kissed her, slow and deep and hungry. She leaned into him. He luxuriated in her.

Her night was off to a wonderful start.

Once they could bring themselves to part, he helped her into the car, and drove them off into the night. She put her hand on his thigh. He interlocked his fingers with hers and drove one handed. Gotham’s lights flashed by as they left their native little corner of the city behind. They wound through the Diamond District.

They slowed to a stop in the courtyard of a softly glowing restaurant. There was a cellist playing in the foyer. She recognised the name in a looping font over the door. She’d read it on some list of world best’s.

“You did not get a booking here on Wednesday. Did you?”

“I booked a year ago.” He shrugged. “I wasn’t going to miss it twice.”

She squeezed his hand. A ‘thank you’ wouldn’t encapsulate just how much it meant to her. She knew the case he was working on wasn't wrapped up yet. He lifted her hand and kissed her palm.

She looked out the window at the people getting out of cars ahead of them. Doubt niggled at the back of her head.

“I may not actually be fancy enough for these people,” she confessed.

Jason scoffed. “Sweetheart, you’re gonna put everyone else here to shame.” He killed the engine and turned to her. “They should be grateful for the privilege of seeing you. I know I am.”

She smiled, ducking her head a little. He tilted her chin back up and looked into her eyes, leaning down towards her.

“You know these windows are tinted?” he said.

She snorted a laugh. He snatched a kiss.

“If you smudge my makeup, so help me.”

“Sweets, you know that’s a challenge.” He tipped her chin higher and kissed her neck, expertly dodging where she had blended her foundation into her skin.

She sighed. She loved this ridiculous man so much.

A valet tapped his window and Jason drew back with a sly grin.

He got out and came around to open her door for her. It was a necessity given how low the seats and how tall her heels were, but she was happy to lean into the fantasy as he took her hand.

Doubt was for behind closed doors. With the world watching she stepped out into the courtyard in a flutter of red silk and her chin held high. Jason slung an arm around her waist, resting low on her hip. They walked like they belonged because who the hell was going to tell them they didn’t?

They were welcomed in by the maitre d’ and led across the packed restaurant floor. Jason caressed the curve of her hip without shame.

She spotted the empty table their path led them to. Jason stiffend at her side.

At the table directly next to it sat another couple, presumably also on a date. Bruce Wayne and a gorgeous brunette with a pixie cut, staring deeply into each other’s eyes.

Bruce glanced their way only briefly, and his expression froze.

Dread broke through his public persona for just a moment, a look perfectly mirrored on his son’s face. The collision course was set. Jason walked like he was approaching the gallows.

The brunette noticed the hiccup and looked back, revealing Miss Selina Kyle. She looked at Andy and rolled her eyes in commiseration.

“Actually,” Andy said, tossing her hair back and stopping in place.

The maitre d’ paused in his path.

“I would love to sit on the mezzanine floor. With the wall of flowers? It must be so beautiful.”

She ruthlessly silenced her internal scream over making a fuss. She was not surrendering her evening to Wayne bullshit. She got waxed for this.

“I’m so sorry, Ma’am, the orchid display isn’t currently available, we are preparing an exciting new display for the spring after Poison Ivy-”

“It’s what I want,” she said pleasantly.

“Of course.”

The maitre d’ redirected them with perfect poise. He whispered in a passing waiter’s ear, and led them to the stairs.

Jason took her hand and squeezed it in silent thanks. The tension seeped back out of him. She squeezed back.

The mezzanine was comparatively quiet, with a giant print of Monet’s water lilies erected to cover some construction works. It had a lovely view of the rest of the restaurant however and the glinting chandeliers hung down over the main floor.

Table settings were arranged for them with a swiftness and subtlety even Alfred Pennyworth would approve of. Jason got to sit with his back to a wall and with sightlines over the entire pace, which always made him more comfortable. The table was small, they sat very close together, making it feel more intimate and private.

There were no prices on the menu and she didn’t grasp what the minimalist dish names actually meant. For a moment it filled her with a mute panic. Jason gave her a calm look and played with her hand on the table.

“We’ll have the chef’s menu, and the paired champagne for the table,” he said.

She was more than happy to be swept along. And she could pronounce the champagne better than the waiter, which calmed her fear of making a fool of herself. Jason managed to look exactly as at home here as he did while having a smoke on top of a dumpster in the Alley.

The food was all delicious, albeit in tiny portions on very large plates.

Below the table Jason ran his hand up her bare thigh, his fingers sneaking under the split in the dress.

She made eye contact as she licked the last of a creamy sorbet off her spoon. He watched with unadulterated focus. She ran her bare leg against his briefly, tastefully, and then retreated. He smirked at her. It was the smile of a man who knew exactly where his evening was heading.

He lifted his glass, with the last of its golden liquid in it. “To another year, beautiful.”

Next>>

#jason todd #red hood #jason todd x oc #red hood x oc #jason todd x fem!reader #jason todd x reader #for the hell of it #my fanfic #dc #fluff

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hrodvitnon · 23 days

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Just a thought: maybe the reason Godzilla was acting so uncharacteristically aggressive in GxK was because he is literally millions of years old, and the whole timeline of the Monsterverse basically took place over the span of ten years or so. Which, to him, probably feels like a few minutes.

So within the span of a few kaiju-minutes, he:

> had to fight his species' natural predators which very nearly turned him into a host for their eggs and overrun the world

> faced off against his ancient nemesis frozen in Antarctica, who ended up nearly killing him *twice* and almost ended all life on earth

> saw Mothra get killed right before his eyes, and even if he knows she can reincarnate she still doesn't reappear for quite a long time while all the current mayhem is happening

> was forced to deal with a Great Ape (a member of a species responsible for his own kind's extinction) being taken off Skull Island and brought into his territory while at the same time Ghidorah's telepathic signal had suddenly come back, then getting beat to within an inch of his life by a technologically superior machine *specifically* designed to kill him

> has to deal with the other titans constantly usurping his power while he tries to keep the peace by any means necessary with Scylla being the last straw

> detects the return of even more Great Apes awakening a dangerous power all the way from the Hollow Earth and is forced to prepare himself by stockpiling on energy and Tiamat wasn't giving up her stash without a fight

> Kong suddenly returning to the surface world, while Godzilla is preparing for a Great Ape invasion, and Godzilla has no context about Kong's intentions or if he has anything to do with the signals coming from the Hollow Earth

So yeah, I don't think I can really blame him for acting so vicious in GxK. Dude's had a very stressful time in such a relatively short timescale, as is clear by him *always* just trying to get back to sleep any chance he gets. We all saw the whole "tired old man" vibe he had back in 2014, and while he's become more action-oriented since then he is ultimately just desperate for a much-needed break he just can't get. And given Skar King and his previous actions, it's understandable he doesn't trust Kong right away. He takes the threat the Great Apes pose *very seriously*, and he has no idea if Kong had anything to do with it. He got a threatening signal from them from the Hollow Earth and suddenly one of them comes out of the Hollow Earth and directly challenges him? What else was he going to assume?

At the very least, he's open to some reasonable talking-to from Mothra. After she arrives to clear things up, he never again after shows any hostility to Kong because "hey, if Mothra trusts him, then I have every reason to do so as well, even if I personally don't like him."

And maybe he's finally calmed down because he's just glad to see her again. :3

Now this makes perfect sense because if maintaining balance is basically his job, he's going through the equivalent of the most draining and stressful full-time week at work imaginable with barely a moment to breathe. I've had to work the entire Christmas weekend at my job, and if that happened to me again I'd be just as pissed as Godzilla was.

#Anonymous #godzilla #monsterverse #godzilla x kong: the new empire

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old-school-butch · 5 months

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I’m confused as to why so many people on Tumblr (and elsewhere) see this as situation where you have to pick a side. It’s possible to think that two groups are both doing bad things to innocent people, to varying degrees at various times. The people losing in this conflict are the civilians of *both* countries who are at the whims of their governments and bear the brunt of the poor (and sometimes horrific) decisions made by those governments. This “Good Guys” versus “Bad Guys” mentality is not sufficient for a conflict as long and complicated as this one and, again, the people who will suffer from that mentality are the civilians they claim to be standing up for.

Maybe the reason I like history is that if you follow a story for long enough it gets very hard to define anything that happens as 100% good or bad. The reasons for a war, how a war is fought and how a peace is made can all be - independently - better or worse.

This war is being fought because Hamas took hostages. A lot of hostages. Too many to ignore. And that was a strategically good for them because it gave Israel no options, just dilemmas. But for everyone chanting for a ceasefire, they need to remember that this war didn't need to start, and could be stopped, at any moment by returning those hostages. All this terrible, pointless death is on Hamas' hands. Israel's best hope at this point is to truly root out Hamas, but even then finding peace will be a difficult task.

But that's the proximate cause for the war. There are also bigger wars being fought.

Islamists form the majority of the world's extremists right now. I can name a dozen major Islamist movements happening, and this war unlocked a huge victory in their PR strategy that works better on the Western audience than live beheadings. As long as you make white people feel bad about colonialism, and say the rights words like 'liberate' and 'decolonize', you will be able to manipulate millions of useful idiots to make apologizes on your behalf and support your naked grab for power. Hamas invaded Israel 3 times in the last 8 years, but only now got the attention it craves to stay relevant in the 21st century. I hope everyone really enjoys watching mass murder, suicide bombings and terrorist tactics, because there's plenty more where that comes from and now they know the right words to say to appease you while they do it. Prepare to be amazed just how many ground invasions, property seizures and destruction, kidnappings, mass murders and violent suppressionare actshually acts of liberation resistance that empower freedom-loving indigenous people to resist neocolonial oppression - even if not a shred of that is believable. I'm serious. This is one of those times when peace ceasefire movements are actually creating the perfect conditions for everlasting war.

This is also a non-nuclear nuclear war. The U.S. doesn't normally announce where they have sent its nuclear submarines but it notified the world that it sent 4 of them to the Red Sea in November. It's part of deterrence to have these beasts in undisclosed locations and able to quickly response to any attacks. Move them close and the response in even quicker - a clear message. Eliminating the advantage of a surprise attack really is important in holding off nuclear war because of mutually assured destruction (MAD). One problem with MAD is that it assumes that the attacking party don't want to die which... if you watch even a little jihadist propaganda you might get worried about how the death cult vibes undercut that deterrence. Now... as unmanned rockets get better and smarter and faster without those pesky human pilots, it's raising concerns about whether countries like Iran can develop its nuclear capability. Even if they can build a warhead, delivering it to its destination has always been a limiting factor, this is why the US dropped them from planes in WW2. In this war, Iran is (getting the Houthis as their proxy) testing out their latest weapon developments. The Houthis/Iran tried to attack Israel with a ballistic missile (it didn't have a nuclear warhead but is the kind of missile that could be equipped with one), which prompted Israel to test drive their brand new and unproven missile defence system called Arrow. It shot the Iranian missile out of the sky. This is huge. I can't stress this enough - technically speaking, humanity's first space battle has just been fought and Israel won. This is what Reagan's 'Star Wars' program was all about - essentially stopping a bullet by shooting it with another bullet. Because this favors defence (if your surprise attack might not penetrate the defenses but you still find yourself on the receiving end of a nuclear counter attack - you are less likely to want to strike) much more thoroughly than mere mutually assured destruction. It means an attacker will face the risk of being turned into carbon while their enemy yet survives - not easy for even the most dedicated fanatic to swallow.

On top of that, Israel has also developed a laser beam - as yet untested in this conflict - that could potentially address the ammunition supply and reloading problems that plague air defense systems. To overwhelm Israel's Iron Dome on Oct 7, Hamas fired 3,000 rockets in about 20 minutes. There are simply limitations to how quickly a defence system can target, fire and reload a physical rocket, plus they are disproportionately expensive compared to the homemade rockets that Hamas fires (that didn't cost anything except redirecting international aid that was supposed to be for water pipes and fertilizer, because civilians dying of thirst and hunger doesn't appear to be an issue for Hamas). A laser beam will speed everything up immensely. You see, when the Soviet Union fractured and collapsed, about a million Jews fled to Israel and since Jews are very experienced with the fleeing-the-country routine, they brought with them the greatest of riches - knowledge. Those Jewish scientists and engineers brought the electronic warfare and rocket development capabilities of the Soviets into the development pipeline of western military doctrine. This is a good, good thing not just for the West but for everyone. The war in Ukraine was demonstrating that lifting the fog of war was absolutely deadly - good communication platforms like drones means that targets well behind the front line are in view and within reach of missile and drone attacks. The only way, it seemed, to win a war was a surprise attack because once the defence was mobilized, any ground assault would be pinned down to a stalemate on the battlefield. Effective air defence turns the tables on the effectiveness of that first strike advantage. The odds of human survival have possibly extended beyond my lifetime again, and I'm grateful for that.

This is also a global local war. We've seen interest in the Russia-Ukraine war ebb away as a younger, hotter war emerges. But what about a war between Venezuela and Guayana? If the US gets involved in one, two, is that three different conflicts... can it cope with that? How are Taiwan's defenses going to hold with 1/3 or 1/4 of American military support? Israel doesn't need help of the U.S. to win this conventional war, although the U.S. could potentially help create a winnable peace to follow this, but Iran and its allies would love to drag the U.S. more directly into the conflict. So far, it's resisted.

But I don't know how this conflict evolves, that part of the story is not yet written. I pray for more good, and less bad, to come and hope peace can be found in time.

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thequietkid-moonie · 1 year

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Parenting Headcanons for Jack the Ripper please!

Parenting headcanons

[ PLATONIC HEADCANONS ] [ Jack the Ripper ] [ Shuumatsu no Valkyrie / Records of Ragnarok ]

I don't know how or when but Jack become one of my comfort characters! Haha, anyways thank u so much for requesting something so cute!!

I hope you like it as much as I did ❤️❤️

Jack had a rough childhood, even so he doesn't complain about it since he at least was a loved child (even when his mother's love wasn't for him)

Still, Jack is a little nervous about becoming a father, having a child isn't just nothing, is a really big responsability but he is willing to take it. For him it doesn't matter if you are his biological child or have been adopted Jack loves you nonetheless and he had swear to give you a good life and protect you with his own life

Jack want to have everything prepared by the moment you came, including himself so he will be learning all he can about parenting (specially if you are just a baby)

Every moment he can spend with you is an special moment for him, it warms his heart and make him feel like he is just like any other man, make him forget everything that had happened to him

Jack enjoy a lot the time when you are just too little and have to rely on him for a lot of things, enjoys the peaceful and wholesome moments where he used to help you change your clothes, making your hair or just playing together, and he gets melancholic when you start to grow up but he knows that this will happen and even motivate you to become more independient

Jack will hate for you two to get separate over the years so he tries to keep a good relationship with you without being invasive, always respecting your space

Jack isn't exactly an strictly father but he doesn't forget to teach you discipline, he wants you to be free to play and discover all what the world has to offer you, but he doesn't want you to skip the academic part, so he is making you study too (if he has to become your own teacher because for any reason you can't go to school he has no problem)

He doesn't want to spoil you but at the same time he want to give you everything you want, he kinda laughs at his dilemma and he tries to have enough self control, making sure he provides you everything you need without spoiling you (still sometimes he can't stop himself from giving you what you want)

Jack is a gentleman, he's always kind and with good manners so he will raising you that way, however he won't force you to interact with who you don't like or forcing you to get out of your shield if you are more shy or introvert, his main is for you to become a kind person and don't attack others for no reason

Jack will probably leave aside his life as an assassin after some time of having you in his life, he doesn't want to put you in any risk nor taking the risk of leaving you when you need him, so he will be more focused on you (however, if it will benefit the two of you he won't mind killing some people), and he isn't planning to tell you anything about this part of him

Jack wants nothing more than happiness for you but he understand that it can't be that way, being happy all the time is unhealthy, so, as much as it brokes his heart, he accept whenever you are sad or frustrated and tries to teach you to accept it and handle it, letting you express your emotions in the way it helps you the most (without hurting you or someone else)

Jack understand that he won't be with you forever, one day you will go and make your life on your own, maybe finding an special someone with who share your life with or even just staying by your own, time will tell, but until that time come hopefuly not soon Jack will make sure to enjoy all the time you two spend together, teaching you all he can about life and motivate you to become independient (without leaving you)

#shuumatsu no valkyrie #records of ragnarok #snv x reader #ror x reader #snv jack the ripper #ror jack the ripper #jack the ripper x reader #x reader #x gn reader #anime x reader #manga x reader

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den-kunn · 2 months

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rewatching mk12's pyramid scene and- I can't take this game seriously at all.

the whole point of the pyramid is to reach the top, to win the "prize of gods"

and- and they're

walking down the stairs-

"oh shit I'm in heels I better not trip or else it's gonna hurt and imma embarrass myself so bad-" "who thought of fighting in a pyramid of all places-" "why do they have so much stamina to RUN up here"

there are scenes that make no sense at all: Liu and Shang casually speaking as if they aren't so far away from each other, the amount of copy paste models that are included for no reason, Liu kinda frowning when Quan Chi comes from the portal... even though he can't see what's going on up there??

I'd love to rewrite this ugly ass scene for something more... idk, 3D era like?

I'd love to write it like- (don't mind the fanfiction down below)

Shang Tsung preparing a bigger scale soulnado while Quan Chi is down there defending the pyramid, summoning warriors of dark timelines (both titan AND mortal warriors). From the distance, Ashrah and Nitara fly over to count the amount of enemies Quan Chi summoned then informing Liu Kang who, now infused with his full titan power, slowly approaches the battlefield, fists burning as he frowns. Then, portals open to show good timelords and chosen champions. There aren't many, but they don't need numbers, they only need their spirits.

And so, they run to face their foes, their "allies", their nemesis, their war screams are so loud they could leave someone deaf. The battle opens with titan Hotaru piercing through champion Li Mei, later following fights like titan Scorpion against timelord Bi-Han, timelord Shinnok against dark Raiden and so on, some fights are callbacks from the armageddon, others are reversed or modified to fit the mk12 timeline.

Liu, however, makes his way towards Shang Tsung, yet what he didn't expect was to fight his undead self, courtesy of dark Raiden. For a "mortal", zombie Kang gives Liu a hard time, or maybe it's Liu's inexperience with his own titan powers that make him feel weaker, but it doesn't matter. The war ends with Shang Tsung consuming all of the souls of Liu's timelines, but as punishment for being greedy, his body cannot contain so much soul power, he's not prepared to manage a large amount of souls, billions and trillions of souls would shatter his body, screaming in agony as Liu Kang tears his body apart, freeing not only the souls of his timeline, but the souls that were taken from the massacre that was a few meters away.

The universe, unstable, tries to correct itself. It sends warriors back to their timelines... except some warriors are swapped with different versions of themselves.

I'd like to think Invasions could be canon as a direct continuity. Bringing the warriors stuck in other timelines back to Liu's and sending the titans back to their universes, as they lost their divine power. For example: Champion Nitara is stuck in Liu's timeline meanwhile normal Nitara is in C!Nitara's. Duplicates exist in Liu's timeline but at the cost of another soul replacing them: Scorpion and Champion Scorpion are both in Liu's timeline at the expense of... idk, young Hanzo and Scorpion Kuai.

...so yeah thats my rambling.

#mk12 #den rambles #I love rambling #it's my favorite hobby

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superbattrash · 2 years

Text

Superbat: The Bet

Alternative title: anon prompts are my favorite dish <3

For the sweet anon who wanted Superbat making a silly bet and the loser having to do whatever the winner wants.

Bruce doesn’t break under pressure. He does his work; he finishes his mission, and he does it meticulously every time no matter how stressful the situation. It is true that he can’t always follow his carefully structured plans (working with others – specifically not his kids – is a challenge in and of itself, but Bruce is managing) but he’s good at the spontaneous solutions as well. His mind is quick, his body is strong; he’s a skilled fighter and a fast learner.

Now where does Clark Kent fit into all of this? Usually, he doesn’t. Because Bruce isn’t doing missions with Clark Kent of Smallville, Kansas. Superman is who he factors into his plans and his preparations.

Superman is levelheaded, follows orders (mostly) without questions and even without his incredible strength, he is sharp and just as smart as Bruce, even if it shows differently in the two. It’s not like Bruce has ever told Clark any of this, he assumes it’s a silent agreement between them. They respect each other and they’re a great team.

Clark Kent on the other hand, well… Clark is more than a teammate. Clark is someone Bruce holds very dear to his heart. A little too dear sometimes, but they’re working on that. Bruce needs to learn how to trust others and give up control and Clark needs to learn that Bruce can take care of himself. It’s a process. They’ll be fine, they’re doing alright.

Clark is who he invites over for dinner, Superman is who he calls when he needs help moving a mountain, putting out a forest fire or stopping an alien invasion. He’s still working up to allowing Superman to help in Gotham, but he’ll get there. Probably. Maybe. Either way Bruce knows he can trust Superman to have his back on missions.

Usually, that’s enough. Usually, Clark knows not to mix the two up. He keeps the silly boyfriend act on hold until they at least get back to the cave, or even Clark’s apartment. Whichever is closer to whatever emergency they’re dealing with.

Today isn’t usual, it seems.

“I bet I can disassemble the bomb before you can,” Clark says, voice giddy and excited.

It’s just the two of them in the building – there’s no reason to have the entire League in here in case the space blows up earlier than anticipated. When it’s just the two of them Clark can potentially get Bruce out or shield him before he gets injured. Even though the rest of the team have powers, not all of them can handle a building collapsing on top of them and Clark may have superspeed, but he can’t be everywhere at once.

It’s another thing they’re working on. The guilt. It’s constant and persistent and always on the edge of Clark’s mind. Bruce understands; even without enhanced senses and strength he often feels like he can do more. Should do more. It’s tenfold in Clark’s mind because he does possess the powers to help so many more people. But not everybody, not all the time. The building has been evacuated beforehand for this exact reason.

“What,” Bruce says, because what? This isn’t like Clark, joking in the midst of a mission. He must feel confident they’ll find the explosives in time, otherwise he’s lost his mind. Batman doesn’t joke either way.

“I bet-”

“I heard you,” Bruce interrupts as he fiddles with the outer casing of the bomb. He has to concentrate on this in case vibrations will trigger the device. It’s a little difficult with Clark breathing down his neck while he rocks back and forth on his toes. “This isn’t a joke, Superman.”

“I know,” Clark says, and Bruce sighs a little in relief. Then Clark continues: “I’m still gonna be faster than you, though.”

“Tsk,” is all the sound that leaves Bruce’s mouth as the plastic casing finally opens with a quiet pop. The timer has almost reached down to a single minute. He has to focus on this.

“So, you agree?” Clark prods and he still hasn’t moved from right behind Bruce.

“Of course not,” Bruce mutters. There’s no way Clark will ever beat him in disassembling a bomb, no matter how fast he is. He may be able to look through the thing – unless there’s lead mixed into the materials – and he may have superspeed and a sharp mind, but he’s no Batman.

“Wanna bet?” Clark grins, and he’s looking over Bruce’s shoulder with this cheeky grin on his face. They really do not have the time for this.

“I don’t bet,” Bruce grunts as he carefully separates the wires. They’re all black, so there’s no ‘cutting the red wire’ scenario here.

“One minute left, it’s now or never, B.”

“Fine, now go find the other bomb,” he finally says because he can’t concentrate with the way Clark is hovering, and they really do have lives to save. The building may be empty but if the bombs explode, it’s still going to fall, and they can’t evacuate the entire city. There’s not enough time.

“Loser does whatever the winner wants?” Clark asks even as he’s slowly moving away. He’s probably already located the other bomb.

“Whatever, just go,” Bruce bites out, keeping his eyes on the bomb. If the middle wire connects to the timer and the explosives, it’ll have to be the right one, but there sometimes they’re designed with a failsafe, and he has to make sure he won’t accidentally blow himself up in the process of disarming it.

That whatever costs Bruce everything because eleven seconds later Clark is back with a shit eating grin on his face. It’s very much purely Clark without any trace of Superman. Superman wouldn’t gloat like this.

“B, look, look,” he says as he holds up the disassembled bomb. “Nine seconds. Are you done yet or do you want me to do that one too?”

It takes Bruce another five and a half seconds to disassemble his bomb. It’s an impressive time, even by his standards but it’s still too slow to beat Clark in any way. They don’t have time to discuss it either way because Luthor has finally shown up to participate in the fight himself. Bruce has no doubt that he’s come armed to the teeth with Kryptonite, which is why he shoves the bomb into his arms and has him on the outer perimeter until Lex is dealt with.

Bruce doesn’t have to worry – they’ve taken down Luthor before, and it’s a wonder the man doesn’t get smarter with his planning. Lex may be smart, but he’s no match to Shayera’s mace – or rage, for that matter. She and John are having problems again (not that Bruce listens to the gossip, but Clark likes to small talk before going to bed) and she’s channeling her frustrations beautifully in Bruce’s opinion. Too bad he doesn’t condone killing, because getting squashed by an angry Thanagarian would be a glorious end to Luthor’s constant attacks. Too good an end, now that Bruce thinks about it.

As far as “don’t let Luthor kill Superman and/or take over the Earth” missions go this one is pretty straightforward and easy to wrap up. As is his civic duty (that he greatly enjoys, despite denying the fact) Clark takes Luthor to jail and the rest of the League clean what havoc they can and then they go their separate ways. Shayera and John fly off together which Bruce takes to mean that they’re good. He’s not exactly an expert but he thinks the flirty comments they throw at each other when he’s in earshot is enough proof that they’re okay again.

Bruce – with his lack of superpowers – travels back to the batcave to do his reports. He’d do them at the Watchtower, but this was their fifth mission this week alone and everybody needs a break, even superheroes. He’ll send the reports and they’ll go through them next time there’s an official meeting. With their luck it won’t be many days before they have to meet up again.

It being Friday means that Tim and Duke are patrolling the city. Bruce knows Jason is out there too but he’s not on the official patrol schedule, despite enjoying the official after-patrol cookies Alfred makes. It’ll be a few hours before Bruce has to take over and he decides to grab a much-needed shower and if he’s lucky, a quick powernap.

Bruce isn’t lucky, he never is. He has time for the shower but when he’s dressed in his sweats and goes down to the kitchen to grab a cup of coffee, Clark is there. And he’s smiling like he just won the lottery. Bruce sighs but doesn’t stop his planned route to the coffee machine.

“So,” Clark says.

“So,” Bruce echoes. There is no way Clark has somehow forgotten about that silly bet. Bruce can only hope he’ll want something fun. Sex in the cave showers sounds good right now, actually. He fills his cup and turns to Clark, leaning against the counter. Perhaps he can convince Clark that ‘whatever the winner wants’ is actually whatever Bruce wants. Clark is usually up for that.

Bruce is going to rip ‘usually’ out of the dictionary after today.

“I won the bet,” Clark says, smile so big Bruce’s cheeks sympathy-hurt just from looking at him.

“Which was awfully unprofessional of you to suggest,” Bruce says because he has to come up with something. He really doesn’t want to fly over Metropolis on Clark’s back or go shopping for flowers or God forbid, have a weekly cooking-together night. He likes watching Clark cook, he doesn’t have to participate for it to be romantic.

“You’re just grumpy because you lost,” Clark teases.

“I’m sure you cheated somehow.”

“Et tu, Bruce? That’s a really hurtful accusation, you know,” Clark says with his stupid puppy dog eyes on full blast. Bruce actually feels bad for a moment.

“Fine, I’m sorry,” Bruce grumbles. “What do you want?”

It’s a whole other context he’s used to asking that particular question. Or maybe not. It depends on whether or not Clark picks up on the subtle hints Bruce is throwing his way. He’s doing that head tilting thing Clark enjoys, because it exposes his entire neck and while his sweats aren’t exactly what you’d call sexy, they’re loose enough that his collarbone is peaking out too. Bruce knows how much Clark enjoys peppering kisses all over Bruce’s shoulders and neck.

“For you to wear this,” Clark says eagerly as he pulls something from behind his back. Bruce hadn’t even noticed how he’s standing, hiding his hands and whatever’s in them.

It’s a flower.

Bruce does not have enough plant knowledge to name the exact kind, but it looks like a subspecies of a lily. A blue lily. Bruce has never seen anything like it and immediately he narrows his eyes at it. Has Clark been in contact with Ivy again? Just because she knows flowers, doesn’t mean Clark should ask her for advice. This will end up like that time she suggested he bring a potted plant home for Batman (Ivy is no fool; she can see right through them) and it nearly ended up eating Bruce’s face off.

“Wear the flower,” Bruce says to make sure he heard correctly. It’s not the worst-case scenario he imagined – unless it truly is one of Pamela’s creations – but it is nowhere near as fun as sex in the shower would be. He could go for another shower if Clark’s in there with him.

“Yep,” Clark says and then steps closer. He stops a foot away from Bruce and then frowns. “But you’ll have to change first.”

“Change?”

“Yes. For our date,” Clark responds like it’s the most natural thing in the world. It might be to him, but this is the first Bruce has heard of this. He might need more than half a second to figure out the proper reaction.

“I have patrol,” Bruce says. He feels bad; he knows they don’t have much time for dates since getting together. They try to grab dinner together at least once a week but it’s not always they succeed. Bruce has patrol and Clark has his Superman duties. There’s a lot to factor in before they do a typical dinner and a movie date like other couples. More often than not they don’t even make it to the dinner part of the date when they finally have the time – although that isn’t something Bruce minds. Clark is very… passionate. In every aspect of his life.

“Not anymore,” Clark says confidently. “I talked to the boys.”

Bruce wants to be happy and supportive of this idea, but his boys need their off time too. More so than Bruce does; he’s used to the never-ending fight, he chose it. They didn’t, not really. They have lives to attend to too, school and friends, and Bruce is trying to prioritize the not-bat related parts of their lives more. He sighs and tries for a smile. He hopes it comes across apologetic.

“They need a break too, Clark,” he says. “I can’t just-”

“Not those boys, silly,” Clark interrupts with a soft laugh. “Your oldest.”

Of course, Clark has thought this through properly before offering his plans to Bruce. He knows better than to not to so, but Bruce still feels weird handing all of his responsibilities off to Dick. They’ve talked about this, it’s something Bruce has been adamant about wanting to get better at. Clark has helped tremendously in that area as well.

“Dick has his own patrols to-” Bruce argues but once again Clark has an answer ready before he’s even finished speaking.

“Oh no, he agreed that he can split the Gotham patrol while we’re out,” he says and grins. There’s something mischievous about that grin and it takes Bruce a second to realize what he’s saying.

“Split? With whom?” Bruce asks. “Damian isn’t going alone.” He’s not ready, Bruce doesn’t say, but he doesn’t have to. Clark already knows this. It’s another one of those topics Bruce is learning to share with Clark. His children, his family. It’s a slow process, but he’s trying.

“Jason,” Clark says and his grin doubles in size when Bruce gapes like a fish.

“You- you got Jason to agree to go on patrol? With Dick?”

“Yes,” he says simply.

“How?”

“That’s my little secret,” Clark says with a wink and then starts gently shoving Bruce towards the stairs. “I’ve already planned everything so all you have to do it wear the outfit Alfred has laid out for you.”

Bruce is too stunned to speak. When he gets to his room there is indeed a full outfit on his bed. How Alfred managed to do that behind his back is beyond him, especially considering that he was in here less than fifteen minutes ago. How long has Clark been planning this thing? There’s no way he could’ve known about today’s mission so how the hell has he managed to not only get Dick on board but also convinced Jason to help out?

“Hurry up, B,” Clark calls from downstairs. “We have reservations at seven!”

Bruce gets dressed and heads downstairs, despite wanting to refuse to do anything before he’s gotten an explanation. He knows it won’t get him anywhere. If Alfred is already in on this, it’s not going to be dangerous in any way and Bruce likes seeing Clark rocking on his feet because he’s so excited. Happiness suits him more than anyone else Bruce knows.

“Alright,” Bruce says instead of delving into how beautiful he thinks Clark is. It’s not the time for that right now. Maybe later. Definitively later. “I’m dressed. Now where are we going?”

“You look amazing,” Clark says and ignores his question. Smart move. If he answers one, Bruce won’t stop asking. Clark knows him too well.

“I’m guessing you requested the outfit.” Bruce holds his arms out to the side and does a little spin just to complete the image. He does prefer to wear all black, but he can appreciate a good navy turtleneck as well. Sadly, the outfit doesn’t tell him anything about where they’re going. The reservations Clark spoke of must mean a restaurant, but where will Clark take him that won’t be ruined by the fact that it’s Bruce Wayne and handsome hunk going out? He really needs to figure out a way to edit some of the headlines he’s been seeing recently.

“I do like you in that turtleneck,” Clark says appreciatively. His eyes are warm as he looks Bruce up and down. Like he can’t get enough of him.

“You like me in everything,” Bruce deflects even as a smile tugs at his lips. There’s a certain kind of thrill he gets every time Clark unapologetically stares at him. Because he’s allowed to do that now, is what he always says. It makes Bruce feel like a teenager again, trying to look pretty for his crush. This time however he doesn’t even have to try; Clark loves him either way. It’s a deeply comforting thought on tough days.

“That’s true,” Clark says easily. Unlike Bruce he doesn’t have a hard time being honest about his feelings. “Come here so I can put the flower in your hair.”

“It’s just going to fall out, you know that, right?”

“There’s no crime fighting tonight, and I borrowed a clip from Barbara,” Clark says, determination in his voice. He truly believes they’ll have a normal evening out tonight and it almost makes Bruce feel bad for suggesting it won’t. Almost. It’s still a big flower he has to wear in his hair.

The second part of Clark’s sentence hits him way too late. Clark is already fumbling with the flower and then small clip.

“From Barb- is everybody in on this?” Bruce asks and nearly jerks his head out of Clark’s grip. He really doesn’t want bald spots though, so he keeps still.

“Pretty much, yeah.” Clark shrugs. “Funny how cooperative all your kids are when they get to plan something behind your back.”

“They’re not all my kids,” Bruce mutters. He crosses his arms over his chest with minimal difficulty. Clark is standing very close. “This is insane,” he says, a little louder.

“I think you mean romantic,” Clark singsongs. All he needs are sparkles flying around him and he’s a modern-day Disney prince.

“Do I even want to know how you pulled this off?” Bruce asks gruffly. He’s getting impatient; how much time does it take to fasten a damn flower?

“Probably not, no,” Clark says honestly and then steps back. “There we go. You look beautiful.”

“Despite the flower, you mean.”

“It matches your eyes,” Clark responds. It’s too easy for him to discard Bruce’s snide remarks these days. Perhaps they’ve spent too much time together recently. Or maybe Bruce contributes more to those late-night small talks than he was aware of. “Oh, just one more thing.”

Before Bruce has time to react, Clark has closed that small two-inch gap between them. His large hands keep Bruce in place at the small of his back; not that he’s thinking of moving anywhere except closer. Maybe he can still take Clark’s mind off leaving the manor at all tonight. A guy can hope.

Clark glances at the flower in his hair and Bruce knows he’s lost the going-out war, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that he has to lose the before-we-go-out battle. He presses closer against Clark, tilting his head slightly. It’s not exactly a provocation but it’s close enough that Clark huffs out a laugh and then surges forward to capture Bruce’s lips with his own.

They’re not past the point where they could do this all day – Bruce isn’t sure they’ll ever get there, and he find he doesn’t actually mind. He loves kissing Clark almost as much as Clark loves kissing him. It’s not a competition but there is nothing Bruce can do to deny how much Clark loves kissing him. It’s clear in the way Clark grips Bruce so tightly, cradles his jaw as if he’ll break, grabs a fistful of his hair to force his head back. How he kisses every part of Bruce that he is allowed to, that he can reach. He’ll spend hours peppering kisses across Bruce’s chest, his neck and stomach. He’ll brush his lips gently over Bruce’s knuckles, kiss the tips of his fingers. He kisses the tops of Bruce’s ears because it’s where he can feel the flush in his face the most and Clark loves getting Bruce to blush. He’ll flick his tongue against Bruce’s skin, caress his lips tenderly, suck on his tongue until Bruce gasps for air.

Today is no different. Clark presses close and sucks the air straight out of Bruce’s lungs. That’s what it feels like anyway. He parts Bruce’s lips carefully, always so gentle (unless asked to be something else) and then promptly twists his tongue around Bruce’s, tasting every part of his mouth he can reach. Which is all of it, apparently, or he’s just doing a stellar job at trying to get to every crevice.

Bruce moans with the force of the kiss and oh God, he really doesn’t want to go out tonight. All he wants to do is wrap his legs around Clark’s hips and pull at his hair until he flies them both upstairs. Preferably Bruce will then spend the next hour or two either on his back or knees and they’ll forget about that stupid flower.

When Clark pulls back his lips are shiny with their spit and Bruce can’t tear his eyes away. He’s just about to pull Clark back in when he moves back a few steps.

“Um,” he says with a sheepish grin. “Let’s- let’s get going.”

Bruce ignores the disappointed twitch in his pants and grunts out what is supposedly an affirmative. He’s going to have to clear his mind if they’re going to make it anywhere without BRUCE WAYNE – FALLEN HARD FOR HIS NEWEST BEAU headlines on every newspaper. Stupid Clark and his stupid mouth and the stupid bet with the stupid flower…

The reservations Clark has made for them are for a little hole-in-the-wall place in Metropolis. It’s warm and comfortable and much smaller than the restaurants Bruce usually goes to. It’s perfect. Clark is on a first name basis with most of the staff but pretends like he doesn’t already know every single item on the menu. It’s oddly endearing because Bruce knows for a fact that this man would do anything for him so of course he’s already made sure there isn’t a single thing on the menu that Bruce doesn’t like or can’t have.

There are a few stares as they walk down the street, but they parked the car close enough to the restaurant that it’s not a bother. For once Clark actually agreed that they should just take one of Bruce’s cars, although he did insist on driving so that their destination would continue to be a surprise until the last second. And to be completely fair Bruce isn’t sure if the stares are because Bruce Wayne is in Metropolis or because two men are walking down the street hand in hand. He hopes for the first but won’t be surprised if it’s the latter.

It isn’t until they get inside the restaurant that Bruce realizes it may be neither of those things. Because he catches a glimpse of himself in the window and notices that blue monstrosity in his hair. He sighs and tries to smile at the waitress leading them to their table, despite her glancing at his hair every two seconds. If only Clark would say something, but he’s pretending not to notice.

Besides the stares they (Bruce) are on the receiving end of, dinner is terrific. Clark is the perfect gentleman, as always, they bicker and talk freely because they’ve been seated at a private booth and the place isn’t full enough that they have to be careful with what they say. Of course, there are limits and Bruce has made sure Clark knows where and what they are. He doesn’t have to worry, Clark is just as tightlipped with his identity as Bruce is, if not more.

It isn’t until dessert that Bruce finally realizes why Clark has made such a tremendous effort to get him to agree on a date. Across his cheesecake, in blue glitter, it says: Happy Anniversary. Bruce stares at the plate for a solid ten seconds before slowly raising his head. He feels horrible. Absolutely, completely horrible. He forgot their anniversary?!

“I am so-”

“Don’t start that,” Clark interrupts. He’s still smiling. “I know how busy you’ve been lately, and the actual date isn’t until Monday, but I know you won’t have time to go out on a weekday.” He reaches across the table to grab Bruce’s hand. “And the boys couldn’t exactly help me out if they had to get up early for work and school.”

“Still, I should’ve remembered, I’m really s-”

“I said don’t.” Clark squeezes his hand. “Do you know how often I get to surprise you?”

“You surprise me plenty,” Bruce says.

“Not like this,” Clark retorts. “Not without you having figured everything out halfway through the date. This was just as much for me as it was for you.”

“You’re being way too nice about this.”

“Well,” Clark says with an exaggerated sigh. “I’m sure you’ll find a way to make it up to me.”

Bruce rests chin on his free hand as he watches Clark’s beautiful face in the flickering candlelight. He lowers his voice as he says: “I’m sure I will.”

The next day Bruce is finishing some reports in the cave when curiosity gets the best of him. He still hasn’t been able to figure out how Clark pulled all of this off, not even after… interrogating him all night long. Clark is a stubborn man. Bruce loves that about him, at least when they’re in the bed together.

Bruce roams through the mess on his table – Clark really doesn’t know how to keep order, not even in Bruce’s things – and finds the bombs from yesterday. He carefully examines them, one by one, and by the time he’s done, he carefully puts them back down before picking up his phone.

It turns out the bomb Clark “disassembled” was faulty. Which is the only reason why he made the bet in the first place. Bruce is going to kill him. The thought and planning may have been sweet and caring and very Clark of him, but the humiliation? The stress he put Bruce through? The two full hours (Clark has excellent stamina) of Bruce clinging to the damn flower because “if you drop it, I’m gonna stop, Bruce, and you don’t want that, do you?”

He sends a text off to Pamela – two can play the flower game and if Clark wants to humiliate Bruce (with a romantic and sweet date night celebrating their anniversary, a fact which Bruce ignores for now), Bruce will make sure he lives to regret that decision for the rest of his life. The text is encrypted, obviously, he’s no fool and it’s not like he’s going to get a flesh-eating plant from her. She might have a few extra baggies of pollen left that she’ll be willing to hand over if Batman looks the other way next time she “peacefully protests” a forest being cut down.

Nobody comments on the fact that Bruce keeps the blue lily carefully on display in his study. Clark might have a scolding incoming, but it doesn’t diminish his earlier efforts. And Bruce happens to like blue lilies. He’ll have to ask Ivy if she can replicate the actual plant for him while she’s at it.

#misha writes #hi yeah no I didn't think I was gonna finish this today but here we are #distraction method number 1: just write superbat #superbat fanfiction #Clark Kent/bruce wayne #anon prompts

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mariacallous · 9 months

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It’s a new school year in Russia, which means teachers and students nationwide are returning to the classroom as the country’s brutal invasion of Ukraine drags on. Many educators strongly oppose the war but have remained in Russia for various reasons. These teachers must navigate state-guided Monday lessons on patriotism and the Kremlin’s version of history, adapting to a changing mandatory curriculum and supporting students and colleagues as best they can. Independent journalists at the Bereg cooperative spoke to four teachers in Moscow about how their work has transformed over the past year and a half and what they think lies ahead for Russia’s school system in the near future. With Bereg’s permission, Meduza presents an English-language summary of those interviews.

Elena (pseudonym)

40 years old, foreign-language teacher at a school in Moscow

When it comes to “Conversations About What Matters” and Russia’s evolving curriculum related to patriotism and the war in Ukraine, most of the work falls on the shoulders of homeroom teachers. Journalists from Bereg spoke to one of these teachers, identified by the pseudonym Elena, for her own safety. She said it’s her responsibility to meet with any students who ask politically sensitive questions in class or are overheard making comments about the war. In certain situations, like if someone is caught humming the Ukrainian national anthem, the homeroom teacher might even summon that student to a meeting with a psychologist and a school social worker.

Elena recalled one case where she had to speak to a student’s mother and report to the principal after the student deliberately provoked another teacher known to hold strongly “state-oriented views.” In the end, the student agreed to apologize for offending the teacher. Elena stresses that the apology was not for refusing to support the “party line.”

More “systematically” disruptive behavior, however, isn’t resolved so easily, explained Elena. Students who go so far as to picket or distribute anti-war literature can expect a meeting not only with a school social worker but also with a district-level administrator. Schools also involve parents in these talks.

Elena says different teachers respond differently to being told that they must monitor their students like this. She describes the current classroom conditions as a “moral meat grinder” for students who desperately need all the support they can get. “I see my job as creating a micro-climate at school that will distract students from the nightmare that is [maybe] unfolding around the dining table every night — all these feelings, fears, economic changes, and arguments between parents,” Elena said.

Like the other teachers who spoke to Bereg, Elena said there is still substantial room to “improvise” when it comes to teaching the “guidelines” provided for the “Conversations About What Matters.” Elena says some of the time allocated for the Monday morning “conversations” with students is inevitably spent on quiz preparation, birthday congratulations, and other housekeeping matters, though she warns that wasting too much classroom time is a “slippery slope” that risks angering school administrators or parents who take notice.

She also points out that various topics are covered in the state’s curriculum, and “not everything should be thrown straight in the fire.” Elena says her meetings with parents about these lessons have been “constructive,” and she herself hasn’t encountered any mothers or fathers who insist against their children attending the new patriotic lessons. She argues that much of the ideology embedded in the new curriculum is based more on Russia’s cultural, educational, and sporting achievements than the war in Ukraine. “For now,” Elena told Bereg, “nobody’s forcing us to go on field trips to the Great Patriotic War Central Museum, but everything the state offers to schoolchildren is a bit skewed in that direction.”

Anastasia

30 years old, subject teacher at a private school in Moscow

The situation at private schools in Russia’s capital appears slightly different. Since the February 2022 invasion of Ukraine, roughly a fifth of the student body and faculty at Anastasia’s school have moved abroad. She says her school now has far fewer men on staff.

Anastasia told Bereg that her younger students seem to lack interest in the war, viewing it as a far-off affair that belongs to the adult world and doesn’t directly affect their own lives. She also stressed that teachers at her school don’t press their students to express opinions about the war. In fact, some of her colleagues apparently don’t see the point in mentioning it at all in the classroom. Recalling one of the few times she says someone ever asked a question related to the invasion, Anastasia said a student asked her how she can still joke during her lessons “when the world is like this.” “I answered that, if I lose my marbles, it would be hard for me to support myself and those who rely on me,” Anastasia told Bereg.

At one point after the full-scale invasion, a postcard arrived from “a German school” with drawings of Ukrainian flags and the message: “Peace, please.” Anastasia says her students started exchanging letters with the school. In a later phone call with the German school’s teachers, Anastasia learned they had mailed postcards to 50 or so schools in Moscow. “We were the only ones who answered,” she said.

When it comes to her classroom, Anastasia said she and her colleagues “try to maintain neutrality,” though the faculty still fears that Education Ministry officials might turn their attention toward their institution and its unspoken but fundamental atmosphere of “opposition politics.” She says the school hopes to stay off the authorities’ radar for now by avoiding outright pro-Ukraine activism. She told Bereg: “We comfort ourselves with the fact that we don’t show up at rallies and say, ‘Guys, let’s chip in 500 rubles for Ukraine’s Armed Forces.’”

Anastasia said her school — a private institution — ignored the state’s patriotic curriculum guidelines last year. “As far as I understand, for private schools in Moscow at least, these were just recommendations,” she explained, before admitting that she doesn’t know if her school’s policy will change in the future. “Anything’s possible in this country, after all.”

Yulia (pseudonym)

55 years old, physical education teacher at a school in Moscow

In contrast to Anastasia’s account of an exodus from her school, Yulia says just a single colleague has moved abroad since the February 2022 invasion: a woman who feared her husband might be drafted. Yulia says none of the men working at her school was mobilized last fall, even though her school employs several men in its junior reserve officer training corps.

The security issue that has most changed life at Yulia’s school, it turns out, is something that will be sadly familiar to many Americans: the threat of terrorist attacks and shootings, which she says has led to strict lockdown measures during class hours. “I wanted to invite an international class coach to an open lesson, and they demanded that he not only bring his passport but also his education records, his coach’s book (no such thing even exists), and — if you can believe it — lab swabs and certificates showing that he doesn’t have cholera or the plague,” Yulia complained.

Her school has conducted emergency drills to teach students and staff what to do if a bomb is discovered on the campus. But school officials have issued no instructions on what to do in case of a drone attack, she told Bereg.

Vasilisa (pseudonym)

24 years old, Russian-language teacher at a private school in Moscow

Like Anastasia, who also works at a private school, Vasilisa said her administrators told her she’s free to use her own teaching materials and ignore the state’s guidelines. She told Bereg that she views the “Conversations About What Matters” as a challenge to hold the lessons “without propaganda”:

In the recommendations for one of the lessons, there was this dreadful wording — “the genocide of the Soviet people by Nazi Germany and its accomplices” — but I didn’t even say it. We just discussed the concept. It was an interesting experience to talk about “genocide” with seventh graders, first thing on a Monday.

Vasilisa also said that no one monitors attendance at these lessons, and she described an apparent consensus among teachers and parents alike that the “Conversations About What Matters” are optional. “Once, I taught a lesson with three seventh graders, and there should have been 20,” she recalled.

This attitude is particularly strong in the language and literature department where Vasilisa works. “We linguists are lucky: unlike social-studies and history teachers, we don’t get into the sensitive subjects that the war might stir up,” explained Vasilisa.

Despite this relative freedom in the classroom, Vasilisa says the state’s patriotic agenda and interference have nearly exhausted her patience. Like other teachers who spoke to Bereg, she expressed uncertainty about what to expect in the near future. “It feels like anything could happen, and they could introduce any kind of new requirement for teachers,” said Vasilisa.

For example, she still needs to prepare her students for standardized tests and college entry exams, which now feature questions about the Second World War that require answers parroting the state’s version of history. Meanwhile, Russia’s Pedagogical Testing Federal Institute now supplies preparation materials that mention people from the war in Ukraine alongside famous historical figures like explorer Nicholai Nikolaevich Miklouho-Maclay and scientist Mikhail Lomonosov. The authorities’ many “foreign agent” designations have also barred Vasilisa from assigning readings to her students from the pages of the independent news media: “Just two years ago, we took articles from Novaya Gazeta and Meduza, but now that’s impossible.”

Vasilisa says she remains at her job for fear of abandoning students who already have too few adults they can turn to. “I’ve seen how hard it hits children when their teachers say they no longer want to live in Russia and leave. It really discourages them,” she told Bereg. “In difficult times, I want to be there for them. I want to support them.”

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glassmarcus · 4 months

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Klonoa 2: Lunatea's Veil—Prestige Mascot Platforming

*Played in July 2022, Written in November 2022, Mild Spoilers immediately

Your goal is the peak of the floating ruins. It's the penultimate level. You're coming off of a bombastic set piece level where you overcame a gauntlet of trials to gain entry to the final area of the game. But the momentum stops. You are soothed by the atmosphere and pacified by the incoming music.

A somber, yet inspiring tune plays. It's a song that entices reflection. It feels nostalgic even though it's the first you've heard of it. You listen closely to the tune as you scale upwards towards the precipice. The melody is strong, but there's an attempt to snuff it out. The wind blows powerfully to disrupt the audio. The volume of the song is drowned out and muffled by the unceasing zephyrs of the fortress.

Reminiscent sound clips appear and try to take their claim as the main event of the piece. These clips aren't just from this game, but the first one as well. They are memories of your adventures. The ones you remember fondly and ones you'd rather not think about right now. These memories stay with you, but none the less, they are still just memories. They had their time. This is NOT their song.

What's past has passed. The melody returns to full volume. It progresses forward. YOU progress forward.

It doesn't matter how hard the wind blows and how invasive the whispers of the past get, the melody always returns. Because it's not done. Because YOU aren't done.

You ascend, tasked with trials that are more difficult than anything you've faced before. They seem daunting, but you are prepared for them. If you weren't, you wouldn't have made it here in the first place.

Every success. Every failure. Every lesson you remember. Every bad habit you forgot. They've all trained you to be the person you are today.

You've gain peace of mind through embracing tranquility. Nothing gets to you like it used to. Your rage has been tamed and it takes a lot more to knock you off balance.

You've turned your joy of life into a thriving passion. It's not just about the destination for you, but living in the moment and finding satisfaction in every aspect of the journey.

You've attained observation through discourse. Every enemy you've faced you've learned from and gained an understanding of how their aggression can work for you.

Your indecision has been forged into an armor of caution. No longer are you a victim of reckless instinct and every decision you end up making you know is the correct one.

You've felt great sorrow. Sorrow you may never recover from. But that sorrow has only strengthened your resolve. You know that it will get better and so you strive towards that place in time where it does.

So you attempt the challenges. You probably fail them the first time through. But that's more than okay. You try again.

You fall into endless chasms.

You are burnt by cerulean hot flames.

You are maimed by a myriad of foes.

You fail as many times as you need to. But you persevere. The winds may roar, but you keep your footing. You move forward. You aren't done yet.

But, Why? Why don't you give in? Why not just accept that this is how things are and this is as far as you can go? It's just a game, right? Well.

Maybe there's spite to drive you.

Maybe you're running from something and want to keep running.

Maybe you think this will make you stronger.

Maybe you're just bored.

Curiosity?

Pride?

Closure?

There could be any number of motivating factors behind why your are doing this, but they all converge to one common point: This reason, has led to you making a decision.

Klonoa is not a character with deep motivations. At least not in this game. There is no wholesome backstory connecting him to the land of Lunatea. He has no family or friends to protect. He has no complex ideals he desires to espouse. He’s just… some guy, who wants to finish his adventure. It’s just a dream. None of this matters in the grand scheme of things. Tomorrow he’ll visit some other dream and go on a different journey. He could mail it in and suffer no consequence. But he doesn’t. He wants to see things through. Real or fake, he wants to help the people he met in this world. He knows he’ll probably never come back to this place ever again, but he still fights for a happy ending. Just because this is something he decided to do. Resolve is resolve, no matter where it’s derived from.

And just like Klonoa, this hard as nails level is something you decided to surmount and you don't owe any explanation further than that. Not to anyone else. Maybe not even to yourself. So you're going to follow through. That resolve will not go to waste. You know you can do it. You know that even if it seems hopeless and not worth it at some points, you will overcome. You will reach that peak. Simply because you decided you would.

While we're on the topic of peaks, lemme tell you how fucking sick the rest of this game is.

Peerless level design. Beautiful visuals. Thrilling set pieces. Snowboarding. A story for a platformer that actually connected with me. Klonoa fashion glow up. Perfect platforming and puzzle balance. Raw as hell boss fights. Klonoa 2: Lunatea’s Veil owns. It's a sequel to Door to Phantomile like how Empire of Dreams is a sequel to Moonlight Museum. But there are a few things Moonlight Museum did better than Empire of Dreams, while this is just a substantial vertical upgrade to a game that was already good. More levels, more ideas, more mechanics and still pretty lean. You can view having to revisit levels as some form of padding, but honestly they are remixed so well and shake up the formula enough to the point they feel like new challenges.

This game really made me appreciate how fucking brilliant Klonoa's move set is. It's extremely simple, but you can accomplish a wild amount of things with just the two buttons you’re given. And the complexity of what you can do depends on the enemy placement. You see games like Kirby and Mario Odyssey where your move set is dependent on the enemies you encounter. But what you have to do with that move set is never taken full advantage of. In Kirby's case because power ups are optional; In Mario's case because it having all its power ups being used as effectively as possible is unfeasible given the amount there are. In Klonoa 2, using your enemies’ abilities is vital and the mechanics are always pushed to the ceiling of skill and problem solving. You always have to be aware of which foes are around you and how you can use them, not just when you are prompted to do so. It's very mindful level design. Because each enemy is a problem solving tool it makes it so the enemy placement always has a purpose and is always fair.

When I found out that they halved your hit points from the first game, I thought this was either going to kick my ass or be piss easy. It ended up being just as hard, but more efficient than Door to Phantomile. In Klonoa 1 you were really only in danger if you got combo’d by a ton of hits or fell off. And even when you died you still had a surplus of lives that the game hands out to you like candy. Now look, I hate lives. I have not been shy about this in the past. But I do like items that you need to get through skill and problem solving. Klonoa 2 gives health and lives more value by making lives rarer and health easier to lose. While maybe not as valuable as gems and fragments, these survival collectibles are worth figuring out how to get and gives the level design more layers. And the game is really just trying to nudge you in the direction to try and collect lives. It’s not trying to be a dick. Klonoa 2 will literally just spawn a life after you die twice in a row. It even rewards you with 3 lives if you fuck up a section enough times and then get to the end of it with no lives left. It uses the illusion of an imminent game over in order to trick you into being a responsible gamer. I would still prefer another type of in-level item that aids you. But this is the most I've respected a life system on a console game.

My only real issue with this game is depth perception at some points. It's not a big deal, but it elicits powerful retroactive bitterness. Why did this entire franchise skip the 3DS? It's built exactly for a system like that. It is perhaps the one sidescroller I would actually use 3D for. Kirby came close, but depth was only required at certain points. Klonoa just makes sense in stereoscopic 3D. I'm so pissed. After beating this game I couldn't help but imagine the scenario in which they kept making these games. Klonoa has such potential and deserves as much love as the other Scrimblo Bimblos. It certainly has a better track record than the rest.

Allow me to codify this real quick, because this is a nonsense term I’ve been using that requires context. A Scrimblo Bimblo is soft pejorative used to refer to the cartoon mascots that showed up in the 90’s and early 2000’s and any character who might carry that same type of energy. I’m talking about your Sonic the Hedgehogs, your Crash Bandicoots, your Aero the Acro-bats, your Ty the Tasmanian Tigers, your Jazz Jack Rabbits, your Izzy the Iguanas, your Glovers, your KAO the Kangaroos, your Bubsy the Bobcats. Characters you may have never even heard of, but you can picture them in your brain and be 60% accurate as to what they look like. It was an over saturated market for a time and few have survived to this day. Klonoa is a fun cartoon mascot platformer, but he ends up being more memorable than the others by having quality stand out games and not giving away the character design in the name. Seriously, I think he’s supposed to be a cat, but I’m still not convinced.

I'd rather play the first 5 years of Klonoa games than the first 5 years of any other platformer franchise. After playing Sonic Origins I can confidently say I wouldn’t be upset with a timeline where Sonic and Klonoa switched places and we got dozens of Klonoa games and no Sonic games after 1996. Klonoa is like...if Sonic was consistent. Not game play wise of course, but just being an incredibly appealing character design with a fun concept and a unique flavor of edge. There are only a handful of great Sonic and Klonoa games. But those handful of great Klonoa games are basically all of them. When it comes to it’s platforming titles, the kid don't miss. Even Dream Champ Tournament, which had some stupid shit in it, is better than most platformers on the GBA honestly. I love Rayman 3(GBA), but I won't sit here and act like every handheld Klonoa game doesn't dab on it super hard. But I know that there is no way Klonoa could become a huge franchise. It has too much... integrity.

Going by the two main games, the intent seems to have each one be it’s own individual journey. You can’t really build a franchise off that. You need cast members and settings to stick around so people can get attached. The only constant Klonoa has is Klonoa himself. Sure this leads to fresh ideas for main entries, but it also leads to less iconography being developed for the series. Familiarity is marketable. Look at Pokémon for instance. It’s THE franchise, and when it made a left turn and abandoned all it’s iconography in Gen 5, people were not receptive to it at all initially (Unlike me who wasn’t receptive to it for the correct reasons). Then immediately afterwards it started to lean back into that familiarity and sales went back up. Klonoa can’t really grow if it replants itself every game.

The side games (Moonlight Mansion, Empire of Dreams, Dream Champ Tournament) are a way around this where they seem to reuse characters all they want. But that also just makes the canon fairly murky and hard to follow. It’s not clear how much these games impact the console games, so there’s a lack of cohesion you might expect. Also, Klonoa regularly reuniting with his friends kind of defeats the conceit of the franchise. They can only pop up so many times before they become thematically inconsistent or contrived. I like Huepow, but every appearance he makes, dampens the ending of Door to Phantomile. And even worse than the spin off platformers is The Legendary Star Medal, which just feels like a dev team didn’t know anything about Klonoa and made a top down action game about him. These Spin-offs are something they could have theoretically kept doing, but they admittedly sully the main games a bit by existing. Each game contributing to the mythos while also being self contained is definitely ideal and the direction you’d expect it to go. But instead of doing that or making more side games, they just sort of stopped making them. And I wonder if it’s just because of a lack of interest. Maybe no one has any ideas to top Klonoa 2 so they just didn’t try. Or they just didn’t have funding after their rush to create a franchise didn’t yield immediate results. I’m just gonna assume it’s the latter.

Back when the Reverie collection was announced, I made a post on Twitter referring to Klonoa as “The one true Scrimblo”. I hastily drew Klonoa in the style of early 2000’s Yuji Uekawa and made that my profile picture for half a year. At this point I had only completed Klonoa 1 and didn’t even like it that much. It was a raw display of fraudulence and I had no clue what I was talking about. I just wanted to like Klonoa. I got swept up in the hype.

Yet. I ended up being correct about that. He really is the best one. Sonic will always be my favorite platforming mascot of course, but I’ve played enough horrid Sonic games to know that he may not be the most appealing representative of the sub genre’s quality. Though now Sonic is currently on an upswing. Every aspect of the franchise is doing relatively well. If there was a time for Scrimblos to reclaim some of their former power, it would be now. Things were looking pretty dire for a bit. Spyro and Crash are resting under the heel of Activision. Rayman has been devoured by the Rabbids. Sly Cooper is gripping the edge of that cliff. Everyone else from the 90’s is basically dead, aside from Bubsy, who we cannot allow to make another game under any circumstance. But now we have Sonic making decent games again, Kao the Kangaroo coming out of nowhere with a new installment, and the Ty games getting remastered for...some reason. And now Klonoa 2 is easily available for the first time 20 years. We’re looking at a potential new age of wacky mascot platforming, and I consider that a good thing. It feels like it’s important to keep franchises like these in circulation. Would I even be as big into gaming if didn’t latch on to Scrimblos as a kid? I’m not sure. But what I am sure of is that I would have loved Klonoa if he didn’t evaporate instantly before I ever heard of him. So I want to be there when an actually new Klonoa game comes out so I can shamelessly shill it with everything I got. I eagerly await the rightful king of silly animal flagships to return to the kingdom and claim his seat on the throne.

#klonoa #klonoa phantasy reverie series

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runicmagitek · 8 months

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NaNo is around the corner and I'm getting ready for Yet Another Keinatsu Longfic, so just dumping my thoughts here bc it's Friday and slow at work and it's been a while since I've done this. (Massive spoilers under the cut)

So in the game, it's mentioned that Project Ark is meant to prepare the 15 compatibles for life in the real world. The first 18 years are spent living in their assigned Sector within the simulation. The last 2 years are spent in a training session for final preparations. Due to the fuckery that happens in the game, the simulation is reset every 16 years after the Deimos invasion. Insert the events of the game here, where they finally break the cycle and free themselves.

However.

What if there were no Deimos, no Sentinels? What if everything ran its intended course? What if these poor kids were living their normal lives and wake up elsewhere and discover the truth? What would this two-year training program look like? What would be different in this AU, where everyone grew up in their assigned Sector?

Well, that's more or less this fic in a nutshell.

To literally no one's surprise, this is yet another keinatsu fic. It's very similar to WLYH in that it's got a bunch of angst and trauma recovery (all the more reason to lean into that comfort after all the hurt), but... it should be more light-hearted in comparison? Hopefully? It's hard to tell, because the abrupt shift of everyday life to "oh hey that was all a lie and now you need to get ready for the actual real world as humanity's only survivors" is... A Lot. And I don't think that's something anyone, let alone these kids, can digest in a single day, never mind two years.

Natsuno will be the main POV character, a) because I don't feel I write from her perspective enough, b) she's super fun to write, and c) I think out of everyone involved, she'd be the most excited about this reveal. She's actually living her sci-fi dreams! Why wouldn't she love that?! I'd also need to take into consideration a) what she did the extra two years in the simulation and b) the fact she didn't really have anyone else growing up, especially after Yuki moved. I looked up the rates at which high school students moved onto university in Japan each decade and for women in the 1980s it was stupid low. Like 15% ish, or so my research is telling me. So that plus Natsuno being Natsuno, I don't think she ever thought about higher education. Maybe she struggled with holding a day job. Maybe her parents pressured her into dating and finding a good man to settle down with and start a family with. All very Not Natsuno things. No shit she'd be happy to escape that and live this sci-fi dream come true.

But then on the flip side, there's Keitaro.

It guts me apart to think about how his 2188 iteration was aware of how long the simulation would run and being okay with his clone living through not just WWII, but everything pertaining to the atomic bombs and then the aftermath of losing the war. As much as I want to put Keitaro in a bubble and save him from this mess, if I'm sticking to this concept, I need to drag him through this hell. God, this is probably going to be the toughest part for me to write - this poor shell of a young man who has seen too fucking much. Which, again, is a big reason why the story will be from Natsuno's POV, because for the first half of the story, she doesn't know what he went through. She just thinks he's being quiet because he's shy, because maybe he's nervous or misses his home, because maybe he's like her and struggled to fit in due to being a weird nerd, so all the better to try and befriend him! 🫠

But overall, it's a very slice-of-life coming-of-age story that will probably read like a weird college AU. I just want to explore the worldbuilding possibilities along with what their relationship might look like in those circumstances. I really love their reincarnated soulmate vibes of always finding each other and always falling for one another. And despite the angst and trauma (yet again lolsob), I'm really excited to write about them meeting for the first time, learning about each other, and very slowly falling in love.

And according to my tracker and based on the current outline, the word count range is anywhere between 60k to uh.... 280k 🥲 it's a good thing I love these sweeties

#runic rambles #my writing #keinatsu #13 sentinels spoilers

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hellishgayliath · 1 year

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Ok ONE more question about Pico since I see him on my dash again, I promise!

So Pico doesn't get along with the turtles, and I understand that.

Does this change at all during the bad future timeline?

What with the turtles maturing and becoming the leaders of the resistance and all.

And we see Todd in the movie has survived until the end and is fighting for the resistance, so I'm assuming Pico would have joined too? Did they make it to the end too?

How did they fair in the apocalypse?

Last question i promise!

Have a wonderful day!

OOOOOOOOOOO I'VE BEEN WAITING TO TALK ABOUT THIS IT'S LIKE YOU READ MY MIND. Also I love being asked about my boy and love talking about him, I encourage the barrage of questions cuz it helps me build his character up in ways I didn't even think of <3

Back to the question at hand tho. Pico does not survive the invasion. As much as I love them, I needed to sprinkle a lil bit of angst onto him, add a bit of spice to my life. I haven't worked out all the nitty gritty details it's a work in progress.

Few weeks into the invasion they try to stick together as best as they can. All negative feelings they had towards the fam gets thrown out the door cuz its a freaking invasion that shit ain't gonna help or benefit anyone. They eventually get separated (for reasons I'm trying to work out in my head).

Todd sticks with the resistance still hoping on the chance he gets to find his boy one day and hopes he makes it out in one piece. Segway a couple years into the invasion, Todd does find him again. But he has been kraangified and it just fucks with him. Todd's like oh maybe I can bring him back by making him remember who he was/is to him like how Leo did to Raph in the movie. But it doesn't work, it's been already been a couple of years since they've seen each other, which gave the kraang enough time to completely rewire his mind and make him lash out at his former dad and acquaintances.

Todd can't find it in himself to fight him off so another team member or one of the turtles does the job for him, probably Raph or Leo. It uhh.. it really hits him hard, spending all that time trying to be everyone's optimistic moral support and looking for his boy hoping to give him a hug if they ever saw each other again only to find him a alien like zombie and having to be put down right in front of you, yeah that would fuck you up for life. Everyone helps Todd prepare a funeral for Pico, and it just becomes a sore topic for him to bring up during the rest of the apocalypse.

:')

#the cryptid talks #rottmnt oc #the apocalypse is dark and merciless #hello angst my friend :')#im sorry pico #i did not hesitate to get dark #pico lore #pico opossum

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bonesandthebees · 6 months

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7 sbi and 8 leaving

7. I am so incredibly happy wilbur has phil and techno. someone to be proud of him. someone whos judgement he respects. someone he's gonna believe when they say they are proud. someone that cares. and someone that respects him and his wishes. sbi fambly has me weak on my knees every time. its finally having those people in his life for wilbur. its so important to me how phil clearly shows that he has the same love and care for wilbur that he has for tommy, treating them the same, just adjusted to what they both need (OH SANDDUO MY BELOVED SANDDUO). not that techno doesnt show the fact he accepts wilbur into their little family too, his own way, say stuff like "we've taught you well" and "kid", showing worry for wilburs safety etc. and like phil, techno and tommy have been this to each other for a while and now theyre also there for wilbur. I mean look how they were immediately ready to get wilbur out of erets reach, expecting he wouldnt want to go back and having a plan prepared to help. and they let tommy go away with wilbur and like yeah they have no right to try and hold him back, but its how accepting of it they are, like they clearly knew tommy will leave with wilbur and they respect it, knowing its the best for them both even tho that means letting them go, even if hopefully for just a while, like that parental/caregiver feelings must be screaming.

and phil calling wilbur MINE to protect just tops it all perfectly, wraps it up in a decorative paper like the best gift, going straight to you heart

8. the option to leave is so dhfhhfhdhd. like yeah maybe it is that easy. just leave. get away from it all. the little "Oh. <i>Oh.</i>" when wilbur realises he can just do that. he can just leave. hes free. fully free to do so kinda for the first time in his life. and once its sure tommy would go with him, its easy. like yeah they have to smuggle through the border and get fake ids and stuff, but after all theyve been though it feels easy. there is a clear solution for his situation. the knowledge that if they manage to get past the borders (a pretty simple tho risky task) hell be fine. like yes he still has to figure himself out but hell be somewhere where he is free to do so and tommy will be there. what more to ask for. its the clearest idea of what will come theyve ever had. and it says that they will be okay.

also than in comes quackity with a suggestion they might be seeing a familiar face sooner than expected, which sounds nice.

and in the end they do it. they get past the border. they leave and theyre safe and together and theyll be okay fjjdjsjsjyj

sbi family is very important in glass for several reasons but especially so wilbur has some basis of caring relationships outside of JUST tommy lol

both phil and techno have accepted wilbur into their family at this point. from the start phil and techno both knew that eret was probably not going to let the pythia go, it was just a matter of the two of them figuring out if that's what wilbur wanted or not. because even though they both had figured out that being the pythia was destroying wilbur, neither of them were going to take that choice away from him. if he made the decision to go back to his role with eret in charge, neither one of them were going to stop him.

but then wilbur confesses that he doesn't want to be the pythia anymore, and all bets are off. both of them started brainstorming escape ideas for wilbur before the palace invasion even happened because even though they weren't certain, they both had a gut feeling eret was going to pull this.

I think techno was the one who pointed out to phil that tommy was definitely going to go with wilbur if he left. and while phil was reluctant, he knows his kid and he knew there was no way he could stop him. and he also knew there was no way wilbur would go without him.

yes the oh!! he can just leave! it always seemed so impossible but the option is always there. to just pick up your bags and go. get out. get away from all of this. the country is dealing with too much chaos of its own to hunt him down. not to mention, again, he's probably gonna be assumed dead from the palace burning down.

#ask #jiksvokrat #glass ch 28

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primevein · 1 year

Text

Prime of His Youth: Book I: Forging His Own Path: Ch02: Foreign Body

Arcee sat down in medlab. "I... need to you keep this..."

Ratchet scoffed and grumbled. "I am offended. I am your physician. The only reason I would have to give any disclosure is if it affects your combat effectiveness. But you know that, which means?.." he said, and paused, and grumbled, and waved for her to continue.

"I feel like my mesh is crawling." Arcee tepidly stated.

Racthet nodded his head, "A natural reflex. Designed to alert you to pests, like scraplets and such." Arcee looked around nervously, but not fearfully. "Assuming you don't have anything more invasive, the most likely explaination is a new material on your mesh. Have you been encountering any unfamiliar material?" he asked, and Arcee looked around even more nervously. "If you cannot be open with me, I'm afraid my ability to aid will be..."

"It was Jack." she said quickly, firmly.

Ratcher once again nodded his head, "As I had guessed. Unfortunately, I am not familiar enough with Human biology to even speculate at the effects it would have..." he said, and paused, and grumbled, "I would likely have to confir with Nurse Darby." With this, Arcee looked off into the distance without focus. "I suppose if you want a more... speculative answer. Humans use this Soap to clean themselves. I would recommend using it to clean this... new... material from your mesh. Since Soap removes oils, you should be sure to reapply oils to the affected region. Since young Jack is the cause of this, I'm sure he would be prepared to help you with it."

"And?" Arcee sarcastically asked, "And... where exactly would I get this Soap?"

With this, Ratchet paused. While he was used to her sarcasm and wit, she seemed to be genuinely worried." I am afraid I must admit that I am at the limit of what I know in this regard. Anything further would have to come from the Humans themselves. If you do not wish to get Nurse Darby involved, then..."

"Jack is my best option." Arcee said with grudging acceptance.

"I would like to congradulate you." Ratchet said firmly.

"On what?!" Arcee asked accusingly.

"I believe that such activities," Ratchet said and paused, "whatever they are, are normally performed by the most intimate of Human pairbonds."

"He's my sparkmate." she said bitingly.

"That I don't doubt." Ratchet said and paused, "I'm just providing proof that he seems to agree."

"You... almost don't sound grump..." Arcee voiced, and his eyes grew wide.

"It has been aeons since I've had a chance to witness a romance like this."

"What?" a surprised Arcee asked. "You had a sparkmate?!"

"Long before the war..." he grumbled, and then shook his head. " If the treatment does not help, we can discuss this further. For now, enjoy your relationship." Arcee made to stood up, but paused with surprised, and turned to look at him "I might be old and grumpy, and maybe a little rusted, but that doesn't mean I don't want you younglings to be happy. That's one of the reasons I'm here."

"They could use you on Cybertron." Arcee stated.

"And what about you?" Ratchet asked.

"The last thing they need is me." Arcee stated.

"One of the heroes that saved cybertron?" Ratchet asked.

"They want to worship me as a hero. Make me a statesman. I was a soldier, a good soldier, maybe a great soldier, but just the thought of trying to write the laws for an entire world, to talk, and prattle, and gladhand, and... forgive..." she said, and clutched her hand strongly. "What they need are Optimus and Bulkhead..."

* * *

Miko was in a Cybertronian exosuit inside her Apex Armour, carrying heavy girders, Bulkhead doing the same beside her.

* * * "What they need is you." Arcee accusingly said to him, as she vigorously pointed at him.

"Me?!" Ratcher dismissively scoffed, waving his right hand in front of his face, "I'm just an old field medic."

"You're one of the best doctors we know." Arcee stated.

"Sadly, I never finished medical school." Ratchet stated, "I was never allowed to even join.

"You built a Space Bridge." Arcee accusingly said.

"Land Bridge." Ratchet said dismissively. "And it seems like we were using the wrong translation, Star Bridge would be more appropriate."

"That's! - Not! - My point!"

"I'm writting up everything I've known about Land Bridges... Star Bridges..." he said, dismissively waving his hand in front of his face, "everything, really. If they have any questions, they know where to find me."

"So, what?" Arcee asked, "You're a rusted down old hermit?"

"Yes?" Ratchet asked, "And what about you?"

"I've only been a soldier." she said softly. "Now I get to try other things. Maybe I should be a house wife, get myself an apron, bake some cookies." With this, Ratchet harumphed. "Okay, maybe his..." she said, and paused.

"Yes?" Ratchet asked.

"Just some things I promised not to say around other people. Who knows, maybe oil wrestling?"

"I suppose the introduction of oil to wrestling would dynamically change the sport... but I fail to see the allure to Humans." he said, and Arcee gave him a bright smile. "Wait, is it a reproductive thing?"

Arcee shrugged, "Apparently."

"This raises a mind boggling amount of questions." Ratchet stated. "Though, I suppose they are a sexually dimorphic species. If they encountered another race that mimicked the secondary sexual characteristics..." he trailed off into muttering and turned back to his computer.

#transformers #prime #arcee #ratchet #darcee #prime of his youth

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