#it soared over Wally’s head and upon seeing it heading to

[trashiiking]

[thatrandomsarahchick]

Everyone in the Phantom universe has long since passed on, and he has no more ties to his home dimension. Though he's definitely not alone since a majority of his loved ones became ghosts, his core is suffering due to not being able to fulfil one of his obsessions.

The family comes together and makes the decision that he should go to a new planet and protect it. Sam heard through Undergrowth that he has a disciple on this one planet that is overflowing with both heroes and villains - Danny could go there and fulfil his obsession without having the weight of being the only hero.

Danny agrees to at least check it out on the condition that Wulf keeps his phone on him so that he can open a portal for Danny to come home at any time if he wants to. Technus had long since perfected a series of communications devices that worked throughout the entire multiverse, so long as you had the correct dialling code.

They're starting to plan for his trip when everyone freezes. Danny sighs and turns around, seeing Clockwork there. He thinks that Clockwork is about to tell him that he can't go or impose some sort of restriction on him, but instead Clockwise informs him that he went ahead and created identification fiend for Danny speaking back to a birth certificate filed 14 years ago. CW says that he'll hand over all of the documentation if Danny promises to inconvenience some people for him.

See, there's this really annoying family of speedsters that keep on changing the timeline, and CW is getting sick of devoting so much mental energy to ensuring they don't break the fabric of reality entirely. He can't take away their time travel powers because that'll end up with an even greater catastrophe, but he can be petty about it.

CW blesses him with the power of Kronos, his mortal form, so that he can keep track of their shenanigans when they alter reality, and in exchange, Danny will pause time so that he can slightly cool down their coffees, or move objects slightly out of place.

Danny agrees, ultimate chaos gremlin that he is, and resources the hard copies of his papers. His name is Danyal Nightingale, homeschooled until his guardian (older sister) passed away recently, emancipated upon her death on the condition that he attend normal school in a town called Central City. There's a small fortune left to him, enough to survive on for 5 years if he's frugal, and a two bedroom apartment across the hallway from one Wally West, recently purchased by his sister before she passed.

Danny heads off to The Cursed Bog, where Undergrowth says is the most discreet portal into that particular realm.

He comes out on the other side in the sewers with a ghostly gasp. A large grey being with bulging muscles and a noose around its neck is slumbering next to the bubbling green pool he just emerged from. Starting quiet so as not to disturb him, Danny turns invisible and intangible and floats directly up. He enters the city proper via an alley behind some sort of burger joint. Though it's clearly daytime, he can barely see the sun through the thick grey smog and clouds covering the sky.

Danny turns visible after looking around and seeing nobody around, falling to notice the small black haired child on the roof with a camera clutched to his chest.

He decides to go inside and eat something while his phone calibrates to this dimension. He can't go searching for his new place until he figures out where it is relevant to his current location. While paying for his oddly named burger, he misses the sight of a teenager doing a triple front flip through the air as they soar between buildings behind him, a slightly smaller boy trailing not too far behind.

Here's an idea for eternally young Danny. He may have the body of a teen but he's mentally an old man and speaks like one too. He says things like "young whippersnapper" , "back in my day" , and "doohickey". The whole works. Even better if the Justice League finds him and thinks he's a young hero without a mentor so they stick him on the Young Justice team. Just imagine....

Danny: Young fella, use your techy thingy to open this here door.

Dick: You're like the same age as me.

Or

Danny: Ah speedy there you are. I need your help with a little wood project I'm workin on.

Wally: For the last time Danny, Speedy is another guy. I'm Kid Flash but sure, I can help you.

Danny: Youngins these days with their kiddy flashes and speedies. Nothing was ever this complicated back in my day. And where's your respect for your elders? I would have never gotten away with talking to my grandpappy that way.

[thesunlounge]

Reviews 294: 雲の向こう 2丁目 (Kumo No Muko Ni Chome)

Last year, Jazzy Couscous put out a truly remarkable collection of ambient music and synth-pop from Japan titled 雲の向こう (Kumo No Muko), which, to put it simply, ranks among my favorite compilations ever released. The 2xLP set was a sincere gift to all of us interested in the revival of the gentler new age and balearic strands of Japanese music and Jazzy Couscous founder Alixkun poured his heart and soul into the project, spending a decade collecting and compiling obscurities and then graciously sharing them with the world. But it came at a cost and in a detailed interview over at Ban Ban Ton Ton, Alixkun describes the nightmarish undertaking of licensing songs from the stringent, unflinching, and bureaucratic major labels within Japan that still own much of this music. It was no doubt a painful process full of dead ends, wasted time, and sacrifices of vision, with entire record labels being completely unwilling to negotiate, which in turn drastically reduces the pool of available selections and leads to entire reformulations of track selections (something that plagued Spencer Doran’s and Light in the Attic’s expansive Kankyō Ongaku as well, leading to, for instance, the very notable absence of Midori Takada).

Despite the soul-sucking difficulty involved in putting such a compilation together, we are all very fortunate that Alixkun had enough energy and resolve to release yet another transcendental collection of Japanese rarities, this time carrying the title 雲の向こう 2丁目 (Kumo No Muko Ni Chome). The 2xLP set is billed again as a “journey into the ambient + synth-pop sounds of 80’s Japan,” and while this description is certainly fitting, just like the first volume, ambient and synth-pop are only part of the story, for across these twelve tracks, we are treated to colorful musical paradises awash in balearic romance, new age splendor, Laurel Canyon psychedelia, seaside jazz spirituality, exotic tribal ritualism, post-classical enchantment, outsider glam rock strangeness, and pastoral prog folk. And amazingly, there’s almost no overlap with the first volume, as Alixkun pulls in a new host of artists to further realize his magical world of Japanese ambiance and childhood imagination. And like last time, those vibes are helped along by a breathtaking layout from Lucy Harris, who here seems interested in how the fantasy creations from her 雲の向こう (Kumo No Muko) artwork interact with the mundanities of modern city life.

雲の向こう 2丁目: Journey Into the Ambient + Synth-Pop Sounds of 80’s Japan (Jazzy Couscous, 2019) We open with “12 No Garnet” by Miwako Saito, with breezy acoustic riffs and sounds evoking alien slide guitars lilting alongside echoing snare drums and tambourines. Saito’s spellbinding vocals drift like a lullaby above the blissful dream folk sway, mostly lovelorn and soft, while occasionally ascending into radiant highs…as if a youthful angel is soaring upon pounding rhythms and psychedelic hazes. We rush into some sort of ecstatic chorus at certain moments, with acoustic guitars tracking the vocals alongside bleary string orchestrations and during a triumphant climax, fragile singing intertwines with bombast passages wherein symphonic drums smash through shimmering diamond synthesis. And before it all ends, an electric piano emerges from the void, playing gentle renditions of the previously ecstatic melodies…like a closed-eye remembrance of what once was. The lone holdover from the first 雲の向こう volume is Yoshio Suzuki, who appears this time with “Touch of Rain” (from 1986’s Touch of Rain). A contrabass thumps beneath guitar arpeggiations and e-pianos sparkle amidst chime strands while ocean fantasy sequences ascend toward the clouds. Elsewhere, we move into sections of ambient prog, with every instrument locking together and moving through breathtaking runs and lush romantic themes. Giant chords crash down before dispersing into silence, after which the double bass solos beneath gentle guitar atmospherics, with the marriage of exploratory fusion and exotic ambiance reminding me of Motohiko Hamase. From faraway, the song appears breezy and simple, yet closer inspection reveals a prog micro-verse proceeding within a new age paradise, one dominated by dazzling progressions, stop-on-a-dime transitions, and interwoven melodic complexity.

Before even looking at the artist behind “Mizu Iro No Kagami,” I knew it had to be Ayuo Takahashi, for this piece forms an incredibly close kinship with the artist’s “Nagareru” appearing on Kankyō Ongaku. As in that track, piano chords crash like gently waves against shore, with cosmic atmospherics and oceanic ethers flowing in the background…possibly sourced from smeared out woodwind loops. But whereas “Nagareru” features the radiant voice of Koharu Kisaragi, here in “Mizu Iro No Kagami.” we are treated to heart-wrenching violin themes, all cloudscape explorations and orchestral winter ethereality. Incandescing pools of sound lap around ivory chord explorations as the violin backs off, letting the keys sparkle and shine amidst a lustrous soundbath wherein fluttering woodwind hazes evoke some whirlpool of deep blue. And elsewhere, the violin climbs towards the heavens…screaming with ecstatic energy as the piano breaks from from the chord spells and alights on classically-kissed lullaby adventures. Guitars strum through phase shifters in Toru Hatano’s “Kanki,” generating vibes of lackadaisical stoner magic and Lauren Canyon dream psychedelia. Anthemic fuzz solos soar over head, sometimes executing elven dances across the fretboard while at other times screaming towards the stars. The phaserwaves splashing off the six-string riffs are so thick and immersive as to bathe the mix in an interstellar glow and as string synthesizers fade in from the void, they carry with them epic 70s prog orchestrations. And beneath these layers of symphonic mesmerism, the pot-soaked blues jam continues undeterred, with touchstones including the rustic psych-folk of Morrison Kincannon and the hippie spacerock explorations of post-Barrett and pre-Darkside Pink Floyd.

I can’t enough of the work of Akira Ito, whether it’s the prog psychedelics of Far East Family Band or his expansive discography as a vibratory and new age healer. In “Essence of Beauty,” which comes from Ito’s remarkable 1986 album Marine Flowers (Science Fantasy), a crashing wave introduces exotic sequencing while mallet instruments cycle and crazed oscillations arc through the sky. Bursts of squelching acid bass fade into nothingness, dub chords ring out, and crystalline leads moving through drunken solos while electro-kicks stomp through starscape jungles of tribal tom tom ritualism, reminding me of the interplanetary folk of Craig Leon and the magical dub experimentalism of 7FO. A hallucinogenic synth lead weaves Japanese traditional music into an interstellar exploration while insectoid rhythm fx fire on the beat and as everything slowly recedes, the crashing waves return to wash the mind clean. “Flower Moon” comes from the sole Osamu Mizukami album The Waltz for Fireworks, and sees gemstone sonics locking into shining arps over low slung drum exotics, with touches of bossa nova and samba merging while swooning strings and Mizukami’s woodwinds sing songs of the spring. Piano’s drift between chord riffs and solo explorations while bongos and congas flit across the spectrum, leading to a balearic swing awash in fantasy romance, all island breeze chill-out rhythmics meeting beachside fusion jamming. Saxophone melodies awash in touches of cinematic jazz snake amidst glowing orchestrations while layered pianos solo together and at certain moments, the mix backs down into hollow bass plucks and glittering sequences. It’s a perfect end credit theme fro some noir kissed anime…as bombastic as it gaseous…hitting with power but also liable to disperse on a warm sea breeze.

In Tomoko Yasumo’s “Sur la terra” mechanized toms, tambourines, and claps accompany a flubby bass groove as waves of choral synthesis and fantasy electro-flutters flow beneath gaseous brass, with everything strongly evoking the tropical energies of Wally Badarou. Yasuno’s conversational hypnotics move through a seaside synth pop dreamworld until idiophonic patterns replace the voice, with drums now awash in jazz energy and bass synths dancing through sensual fusion motions as e-pianos add touches of jungle bop exotica. Elsewhere, the whispered conversations return, now proceeding over a jam so radiant and harmonious it practically carries the spirit towards the heavens. And nearing the end, we enter another passage of jazz fusion exotica, with trumpets scatting on sunbeams and pianos glowing with soul energy before classical Hollywood strings bathe the spirit in melancholia. Sitars drone over world percussion in Masanori Sasaji’s “Rune,” yet instead of progressing into psychedelic ethno-folk, the track swims towards lands of twilight mystery, with crystalline synth leads ascending on starbeams and sunset orchestrations awash in vibes of cinematic noir. Sometimes the mix backs down into soft piano seascapes and passages of ambient jazz while at other times, finger rolling hand percussion and buzzing sitars underly mermaid choirs, aqueous organs, and abstracted synth explorations that sound as if whale songs are merging with tones of glass. And so it goes for the rest of the track, as passages dominated by romantic piano explorations, sunset orchestrations, and joyous hand drumming alternate with shadowy landscapes wherein crystal-toned melodies, cloudform atmospherics, and jazz chords support waterfall ivory runs while congas and bongos bop over a kick drum pulse.

Shi-Shonen’s “Harvest (Long Size)” features a drumkit storming through outerspace phasers, with psaltery jangling and keyboards screaming. A drugged out bassline enters while snotty glam vocals shout over top and during moments where the singing drops away, daydream electronics whoosh over stomping rhythms. The vibe changes at some point, moving into a balearic glide wherein the bass slips and slides, jazz drums pound, vibrato guitars drop delirium waves, and a blaring brass section pushes the vibe towards some big band stoner jam out. Later, we flash into dream ambiance, with gorgeous strings and wavering guitars floating through an aqueous cosmos. And from this meditative soundbath, Shi-Shonen lurch again into weirdo glam funk, with the whiny vocals and thumping basslines now accompanied by crazed horn themes while tack-pianos move through some futurescape saloon swoon. Curiously, following this mutant fusion freak out, we are transported to some forgotten port town, where a lonely soul weaves accordion sea shanties. Plonky e-pianos and chiming glitter begin Flat Face’s “Hibi No Awa” as a feminine voice coos through emotive soul whispers. Basslines pound and rainbow hued synth leads climb through ambient prog patterns until eventually, a drifting rhythm enters, with claps and tambourines supporting a springtide dance of virtual woodwinds. Synthesizers are trailed by golden light and backing singers join the mix, helping the layered vocals soar through candy-colored motions as the spirit is transported to some exotic pop paradise. Later, after backing down into crystalline leads and piano minimalism, the drums, voice, and flute lilt back in as bulbous basslines float the soul, layered keys solo joyously, and ecstasy angels sing wordless songs of romance.

“Barcarolle” by Hiroko Kokubu is ambient jazz transcendence, beginning with hand drums tapping out whispers and piano chords shimmering before giving over to flowing ivory cascades. The hand drums recede as the keys dance through sunshine meadows, with cymbals swelling radiantly and a contrabass walking on air...the result a sort of a dopamine infused bebop float aglow in gaseous new age beauty. The hand drums occasionally re-enter to bash wildly beneath cloudform romanticisms and the pianos melt over the mix with glowing starlight and pastoral fantasias in a way reminding me of McCoy Tyner, all powerful chord progressions crashing towards the sky and breezy soul leads relaxing the mind. And as the track progresses, a trap kit drummer increasingly erupts into gentle explosions, evoking abstracted jazz tribalisms and adding layers of dissonance via bowed cymbals. 雲の向こう 2丁目 ends with Mio Fou’s “Picasso No Ao” and a lonely guitar tracing out water melancholy. Pianos fade in from silence to join the ambient meanderings while hovering swells of atmospheric mystery hover in the background…electronically sourced but sounding like a choir singing from the depths of the sea. Sometimes piano and guitar lock together and dance through themes of childlike wonderment while elsewhere, Hirono Mio’s vaporous voice replaces the guitar with wordless sing song fantasias. Then comes Hirobumi Suzuki, his voice replacing Mio’s starlight croon while martial snares build in the distance…the whole thing somehow reminding me of Explosions in the Sky, only as if backing a dreamy city pop duo. Feedback melodies waver like reflected moonlight and near the end, ecstatic chamber strings careen over the mix, with viols screaming like Warren Ellis amidst a paradise of pop ambiance.

(images from my personal copy, provided by the label and SHINE MUSIC PR)

[fromthewindowtothewally]

Back to You - Birdflash

Based on this post: “You’re leaving again, aren’t you?” Feel free to leave a request here, whether it’s based on this post or not.

Also on AO3

-S

“You’re leaving again, aren’t you?”

Dick turns to him with furrowed brows. “Sorry?”

“Patrol. You’re leaving again for patrol.”

Something about his tone—or lack thereof—must give away his intentions, because Dick is sighing as if he’s the most put upon being in the world. “Wally, we talked about this.”

“I’m well aware of what we talked about, Dick, but I’m more concerned about which one of us actually listened.”

Dick brings a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, lines of stress running jagged along his forehead. “We’re really doing this again?”

“You still have bandages wrapped around your leg from a bullet wound!” Wally feels a little shaky, heart racing because when he thinks back to Dick, on that hospital bed, he’s hard set on experiencing something like that as little as possible. “You can’t even wait till one mutilation goes away before chasing down another one?”

Something flickers in those azure eyes. “You make it sound like I try to get hurt.”

“You certainly don’t try to avoid it as much as you should.” This isn’t what Wally had intended to happen. Or maybe it was. He doesn’t really know anymore.

“You want me to drop the Nightwing mantle.”

“No,” Wally glowers, voice saturated with angered honesty. “What I want is to not have to worry about getting a call, telling me my boyfriend was found dead on the street.” A hollow, lifeless sound scratches its way out of his throat. “Actually, no, that wouldn’t happen. The only thing that would tell me you died was a news segment: ‘Blüdhaven’s masked vigilante defeated in rough and tumble with notorious villain Baine’.”

Dick has the decency to look away in what seems like shame. What he says next, though, contradicts that in its entirety. “Baine hasn’t been around for a long time.”

“Oh, you’re kidding me.” Why can’t you see I love you too much for this? “Dick—look, I can’t stop you. You can’t be stopped by anyone, that’s clear as day.” He stands from the bed, each movement of his muscles rickety and stiff. He feels like he’s a house one second form caving in. “But I need you to understand that when you’re out there, getting stabbed at and thrown into fires, you’re not the only one getting hurt.”

He wants Dick to say something, anything, because Wally can’t be the only one that’s hurting right now, can he? But then he turns around, to se if Dick, by some horrid miracle, just didn’t hear him.

He sees nothing but a closed window, and somehow, some way, that stings more than anything Dick could have said.

  Wally stares at the wall for the next five hours. He’s fully aware of what absurd hour it is, and how it drags on his mental state to stay so still and bored when his body demands he go so fast, but—sleep is eluding him.

So, he waits.

Dick enters through the window soon after, freezing for but a second when he spots Wally on the bed.

“You’re awake,” he whispers. His voice sounds raw and tight—wrong for how loveable Dick Grayson truly is.

“Yup.”

Wally hears the familiar rustle of the Nightwing suit hitting the floor, clank of escrima sticks reverberating in his mind. His hand starts to fidget, lightly scraping at his leg in an attempt to distract himself from the silence; it’s more empty, now, when he knows that loving chatter and familiar banter could be filling it.

“What you said, before,” Dick whispers, “about not wanting me to stop… what I do. You know it’s dangerous, right?”

“Fully aware, Grayson.”

“So why’d you say it?” Dick sounds just as ragged as Wally feels, ready to snap at any given moment.

“Because I know what being Nightwing means to you.” Wally sits up to lock eyes with Dick, who has thankfully taken off his mask. “I would never ask you to give it up. But when you asked me out, and when I accepted, you committed yourself to me, too.” You’re supposed to care about me too…

Dick nods rigidly, placing himself at the foot of the bed as his eyes fixate on the spot just next to Wally. “When I was out there tonight, I… called Tim and Jason. Asked them to cover for me for the next two weeks.”

As rare of a feeling as it is for him, Wally’s brain is struggling to catch up with what’s happening in front of him. “Huh?”

“You’re right. You matter to me, Wally, so damn much.” A war of emotions goes by in Dick’s eyes in an instant, before something that Wally doesn’t like settles in there. “And I figure that you deserve someone so much b—”

“Dick Grayson, so help me, I will murder you if you finish that sentence.” Wally stands up on his knees to shuffle over to Dick. “Do you want this to end?”

“What? No!”

“Alright, then: do you love me?”

The hurt and overwhelming love that bores into Wally’s soul makes it so hard to breathe. “With every inch of my being.”

“And so do I. So, now that we’ve laid down the foundations for the continuity of this relationship, we need to… I don’t even know.”

“You worry about me,” Dick explains, as if it were some newfound piece of knowledge. “You worry about me because I don’t have powers like you do.”

“I—that’s… a part of it, yes.”

“And the other part?”

Wally feels like the expanse of his lungs isn’t enough to hold the air he needs, isn’t enough to mellow out the erratic pace of his heartbeat. “I’m worried that one day, if it comes down to it, you’ll choose hero-ing over me.”

And that isn’t what Wally meant to say, but it’s clearly what he felt in his heart of hearts, because tears are scorching the backs of his eyes like a raging flame.

“Oh, Wally…”

Stupid, stupid, stupid. Why would I say that? “I know, it’s ridiculous—”

“I’m not him, Walls. You know that.” He does, Wally supposes, but hearing Dick say it doesn’t hurt. “If the choice between doing what I do and the people that I love is ever presented to me, do you know what I’ll pick?”

The horrifying part of it is that he doesn’t. Wally knows, is so familiar with what Dick feels when he’s soaring through the skies of Bludhaven, on the way to save some poor bastard who took the wrong alley on the wrong night. It’s what he himself feels when he pushes himself to tap into the Speedforce; liberation, ecstasy. How could he expect Dick to make such a choice with anything but arduousness?

“You don’t…” Dick is quick to firmly grab Wally’s jaw in his hands—rough, but ever-so-gentle in their treatment of him. “Wally, believe me when I tell you, that when I am fighting for my life with some egoistical maniac, you’re the thing keeping me going.” Wally must let out some disbelieving noise, because Dick is putting more strength behind his hold to the point where Wally has no choice but to stare into his breathtaking eyes. “I’m serious. Being Nightwing means nothing if I don’t have the support of those I love behind me. And Wally, that includes you.”

He feels his chest constrict all over again, though this time a large fraction of it has to do with the love he has for the man in front of him. “I’m sorry, this isn’t me being very supportive.”

“You are, though. You never discourage me, Wally, you just voice your worry in a very Wally-esque way.”

“Shut up, dude.”

And it’s so magically them; Dick, twisted awkwardly and hands still locked onto the solid line of Wally’s jaw, while the redhead tries to minimize the force of his sobs, while calling his boyfriend and love of his life ‘dude’.

“I’m sorry, Dick. Really.”

“Nothing to apologize for,” Dick brushes off. “I mean it. If anyone here is apologizing, it’s me. You should never, ever forget how much you mean to me, and it’s my job to make sure you remember.” He kisses Wally with the utmost care, as if Wally were some sapling that would crumble under the full strength of Dick’s love.

With how hard the younger loves, though, it may just be true.

“Anything I can do to make it up to you?’

“Well,” Wally sings, “a new Chinese place opened downtown. I heard its twenty-four-seven.”

“You’re aware that it’s currently four in the morning, and that I just came back from rounding up thugs?’

“I mean, if you don’t want to repair the tatters of your boyfriends heart, I can’t force you.”

“I hate you.”

They’re both grinning and this, right here, is the man that makes Wally do stupid things. Agreeing to date a member of the Bat Clan being one of them, though right now, it’s heading down to a restaurant when even the roosters are napping.

“Well then feed me and I’ll get off you back.”

“Never.”

Before Wally can react properly—which says things about Dick Grayson and his own speed—he’s being pinned to the bed by the solid warmth of his boyfriend—and all is right with the world.

Wally is in love.

[insane-control-room]

At the Stroke of Luck

They say a midnight kiss on New Year’s Day brought good luck.

Joey is in desperate need of said luck.

At times, the least lucky people in the world become the most over night.

Joey Drew was by no means a lucky man. He was perpetually tired, plagued by nightmares, haunted by bills, and his heartthrob was Henry Stein.

Henry Stein. A wonderful name for a wonderful man, oblivious but intelligent, adamant but gentle, soft hearted but energetic.

Beautiful and not gay.

Joey sighed, trying to put Henry out of his thoughts, going over paperwork, the date on the calendar constantly catching his eye.

December thirty first.

The clock beside it glaringly stole his attention.

Eleven thirty six.

At night.

Joey quietly set aside his work, getting up and exhaling, trying to keep the sadness at bay.

It was going to be a new year! Things were going to get better! He would stop feeling so bad!

But he knew he would not.

Not with a depression looming before them.

Not with the polio diagnosis.

Not with Henry around.

Here is where the timeline splits. In one, a certain animator had already returned to a shaky home with his soon to be ex-wife and his daughter Linda, and none of what could have occurred next happened, and hell eventually broke loose.

But this is a world where he did not go home. This is a world where Diane and he already were too far at the seams, the woman taking Linda on a holiday to her parents, leaving Henry alone.

Henry hated being alone, and so he dropped himself into his work.

He didn’t know how quickly time passed until he found himself dozing off.

And this is where we continue.

Joey stifled a hiccuping cry, even alone. He shakily leaned against the wall to steady himself. A snore brought him out of his melancholic stupor. He knew that snore from waking up after pulling all nighters animating, when the man would take a nap in the public room, that one night Joey had gotten sick and he opted to take care of him… Henry’s snore, the one Joey wished he could wake up to or fall asleep to.

Joey followed the sound to the animator.

Henry was sleeping in what appeared to be an uncomfortable position, but he slept soundly by his desk, his folded arms cushioning his head.

Joey’s heart stopped at his awe, completely relaxed and soft. All his gorgeous features bathed in a sepia light.

He shook his head, telling himself to focus.

“Henry?” Joey’s voice took him out of his sleep. “Why in hell are you still here? Thought you would want to get a headstart on your day off tomorrow.”

“Hnuh?” was Henry’s intelligent reply. Joey smiled wistfully feeling his heart twinge. “Wha’? Joey? What time��s it?”

“Almost twelve am,” Joey answered, going over to him and helping him up. “Let’s get you home, eh? Might want to be inside before it gets far too late.”

“Alright, Johan,” Henry mumbled, pushing his hand under his glasses to rub his eyes. “Man. I feel pretty awake right now. Don’t know if that’s a good thing.”

“It could be, if you’re planning on staying up all night,” Joey quietly answered, knowing that his bad luck with night terrors would be keeping him alert until morning light. Henry hummed. They quit the studio together, Joey’s heart aching with every step. Joey felt a smile tug his lips as he and Henry ambled down the empty streets. “Are we going to take the little short cut of yours?”

“I don’t see why not,” Henry laughed, much to Joey’s surprise. The short cut had been a path to Henry’s home that Henry and Joey had accidentally stumbled upon after getting lost, Henry claiming he knew where they were going (he did not). It took a long twisting route though the little park, and paused at a plateau that overlooked the whole of the city. He took Joey by the hand, leading him on. Snow fell around them softly. “Keep up, Drew!”

They traversed the miniature forest in the center of the town, neither speaking and both reveling in each other’s presence. Joey felt like he was slowly getting higher and higher out of the world as the earth slowly elevated. Here he was, with Henry Stein, not another soul in the world around.

The ground slowly evened out. Henry pulled Joey to the smooth and moderate edge of the cliffside, standing and marveling over the city, soft lights twinkling and indicating persons in their homes. In one, Wallace and his twin Wilbur were relaxing with their boyfriends, Willy curled on Shawn’s chest, Wally splayed out over Sammy and Thomas who pressed kisses to his face and hands. In another, Susie and Allison swept across the floor in a slow waltz, gazing into each other’s eyes and swaying softly. Eros, Lacie, Norman, and Bertrum were all spending the night in Bertrum’s abode, Eros making fatherly jokes at his son’s expense, but no offence was taken before his step father and future spouse. Jack, Kim, Grant, Niamh, and Johnny were all getting smashed at a local tavern. Joey could have sworn that he could hear their singing from where he stood, high above the city.

Henry looked to him, and instantly looked away.

He leaned his head on Joey’s arm.

“Diane is planning on getting a divorce with me,” he quietly divulged. Joey started, turning to stare at him, startled by the news of Henry and his wife’s discord. He studied the animator, and found that he was not blinking back tears nor was upset, in fact, he seemed rather… happy. “Guess why, Joey?”

“Because I’m making you spend too much time in the studio?” Joey jokingly - not - jokingly offered. Henry laughed a little and shook his head. Joey was shocked. “R-really? Then why?”

“She and I came to an agreeme-” Henry began, interrupted by the church clock’s first slow chime. He, with an almost panicked look, turned to Joey. “We both agreed I fell in love with someone else.”

Chime.

“Y-you what?” Joey asked, trying to wrap his head around what Henry was saying. “Fell… you fell in love? In love with whom?”

Chime.

Henry took his face in his hands, yanking him down to his level, mere inches apart. Joey froze as he saw the nearly desperate look in his eyes.

“I want you to look me in the eyes and ask that again,” Henry, his breathing forced and ragged, demanded. Joey’s eyes widened, unable to speak, his mind stringing together the pieces. “Who else, Joey, Johan, I fell in love with you.”

Chime.

He was pulled even closer, hot breath on his skin, he could smell Henry, and it was nearly overpowering, and then-

Chapped lips from biting them nervously.

Fluttering eyelids on his.

It felt-

Sweet.

Warm.

Soft.

Caring.

Safe.

Home.

Love.

Henry Stein.

Henry was kissing him, gripping the sides of his head and pressing his lips to his with all his might, breath harsh and slow, pulling him closer.

Chime.

Joey felt like he was soaring, far far above the clouds and the stars and the moon, the white crescent smiling down at them, far above all his bad luck, shot like a rocket into goodness.

Henry licked his lips, and he opened up to him without a second thought, it was bliss, it was perfect, it was meant to be, it was love, and no one could take it from them.

Henry moaned, swaying with him, and when did he arms get wrapped around him, when did Joey end up on the ground, when did his hands get tangled in his hair, how did it happen so quickly, how did so sinful an act feel so heavenly, why were they doing this, why were they doing this now, why had they not done this before?

Chime.

Sins were meaningless, nothing felt as perfect as Henry’s lips on his, nothing could compare to the rush of euphoria.

Henry pulled away, panting, and saw Joey’s star and moon lit visage, radiating love and admiration and some shock, and he fell in love and fell in love and fell in love and fell in love….

He dove back to his lips, no desire in the action aside from showing his adoration, revealing he care, displaying his love to Joey.

Chime.

Joey felt warm, not an uncomfortable heat, but the fluttering heat of dreams coming true, no matter how shocking the wish or how unlucky the wisher was. Earlier the cold had been getting to the tall man, yet now there was no chill now, only the warmth of Henry.

He let Henry take over every inch of him, his mouth firmly on his and his hands traveling over his coat covered body, feeling over and claiming all of him.

Joey felt like he could cry from all the affection he was receiving, his heart swelling, his pains vanishing, his fears destroyed, Henry his knight and protector and savior.

Chime.

Henry pulled back again, pressing kisses from Joey’s lips to his ears, and whispered softly,

“I fell in love with you.”

Chime.

Joey laughed and cried at once, he cupped Henry’s face and kissed him, and kissed him, and kissed him, quietly telling him each time his lips broke contact with his skin,

“I love you.”

Chime.

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

“I love you so badly, Joey….”

“I love you to the ends of the earth, Henry….”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

Chime.

“Come home with me tonight,” Henry murmured, kissing him softly again and again. “We don’t need to do anything. Come home with me, I love you.”

“I’d love to,” Joey answered, leaning up to every touch of Henry’s lips. “Yes, please, I love you.”

“I’ll carry you there,” he whispered, lifting them both off the snow covered ground in one fluid sweep, a halo surrounding in the area they had lain. “I’ll carry you anywhere you need, Joey, Joey, I love you, Joey….”

“Henry, anything you need or want, I’ll provide,” Joey attested, kissing his forehead and hairline, brushing back luscious waves of gold smeared with rogue. Henry pulled his lips back to his, their saliva mingling and pulling them together. Henry slowly sauntered towards his home, pausing every now and then for more kisses. “Anything at all, I love you, Henry….”

Chime.

As the final ringing toll washed over them, Henry pulled him once more to his lips, deepening the kiss as much as he could, Joey able to feel Henry’s rapid heartbeat through his coat and able to taste his pulse on his lips, and all he could hear ringing in his ears was a chorus of heaven and praises of goodness.

Henry, true to his word, carried Joey all the rest of the way to his home, settling him gently on the couch and dutifully, dotingly, adoringly removing Joey’s coat, kissing his shoulders, then took off Joey’s shoes, kissing the inside of his ankles. He slipped off his own extraneous clothing, putting both sets by the front door, grabbing a blanket and swooping it over both of them as he rolled onto the wide couch, looking into purple red eyes, those beautiful swirling abysses of illuminated ink. Joey looked back into twirling turquoise veined with green, skies and oceans of hopes and dreams.

Joey teared up as he smiled, his face feeling as though it were glowing, he had never been so happy in his life.

Henry grinned with pure love, his cheeks lighting up his eyes and lips, and a complete contentedness flowed into him like it had not in more than five years.

“Love was just a feeling, irrelevant before today,” Joey whispered, his smile gaining a twinge of sadness. “Being… being gay… being in love with you… it just seemed so impossible.”

“I know darling,” Henry whispered back. Joey felt his heart explode, Henry already using pet names. “I know that this feels so surreal... it feels so strange, but so nice, I love you....”

“I love you,” Joey choked out. "I love you."

Luck smiled on him that year.

[foxofthedesert]

Arrow FanFic | Dinah x Laurel | A Christmas Miracle

Part 4 – The Miracle (AO3 Link)

A vicious chill threads through the alleyway outside the Carmine Kanigher Shelter, sending waste detritus of modern civilization skittering in every direction.  Mice and rats flee for cover as fat flakes of snow begin to fall.  Soon the entire area will be blanketed in a carpet of fluffy white powder.  A Christmas Miracle for Star City courtesy of a recently reunited father and daughter duo of certain...arctic talents who are in town for the first of what will become the annual Team Flarrowgirl – a universally reviled portmanteau courtesy of one Ralph Dibney – Christmas extravaganza.  

Pushing off the cinder block he’s occupied for the second time tonight over the past few minutes, Marv adopts a toothy grin.  He already worked his seasonal miracle, which if his best friend Nora’s spotty accounting of history unrelated to her dad can be trusted is taking place right about...now.  Nervously, he lifts the sleeve of his jacket to check the vitals monitor on the modular biometrically keyed device wrapped around his wrist, finding all readings back within ideal parameters whereas only hours before they were fluctuating wildly.  Just to be sure his efforts were indeed successful, he pinches himself in several places to ensure his central nervous system is still functioning correctly that he is still corporeal and has not disintegrated due to a seismic shift within the causal domino chain that will eventually result in his birth less than six years from his present location in spacetime.  

As a reward for a mission accomplished, he sifts through the menus on what Nora calls their Vibe-rators – bless the innocent, adorable, perpetual child that she is, Nora has yet to grasp why nicknaming the gadgets that in honor of their esteemed inventor, their beloved Uncle Cisco, was not quite the honor she thought it was – and quickly deactivates the artificial aging matrix produced by some seriously shway tech that, savvy as he is, even he doesn’t fully understand.  He also unilaterally decides to never adopt the pseudonym Marv ever again.  

Honestly, what was I thinking going with that? Quen shakes his head, chuckling ruefully as the answer dawns on him. There is a longstanding Christmas Eve tradition in his house of watching Christmas movies all evening until everyone is too tired to keep going, and this year they are breaking out amongst other titles both of Macaulay Culkin’s Home Alone films.  Double-dipping those gems before bed is, in his opinion, just about the perfect way to cap off a perfect Christmas Day with his family.  Which is why he has to get a move on or he’ll be late and his Moms will not be happy.  Nor will Aunt Sara and Aunt Ava, who are actually supposed to drop by this year instead of ducking his Mom’s invite with some lame explanation of a temporal anomaly that needed fixing like, pronto.  Come to think of it, Maya, his older sister by a year and a half, is coming back home from a work thing in National City for the annual Lance family Christmas and will almost certainly use his tardiness as another excuse to hit him.  And Quen can’t have that.  She has enough reasons as is without adding valid cause. Plus, his damn shoulder has been abused enough by his sibling’s iron fists, thank you very much!

Glancing back toward the street he’d watched a younger, more hardened version of his softer mother approach him from, the familiar tug of welcome memory pulls him under its sway. His Ma is still a knock-out according to all his friends, who often break out an ancient acronym he chooses to ignore so as to not require a bleaching of his brain, so the age difference was not that jarring.  But it was beyond weird to see her so restrained and world weary.  

Of his parents, his Ma is the positive one, the tactile huggy, kissy, slightly smothery mom who sings while she cooks, dances as she cleans, and who cried – on camera! – at his graduation...every last one of the four so far.  So many wonderful memories of her flash by that he can hardly sort through them all. Her singing him to sleep while he was little and really, really sick while his Mom cradled him close to her chest and rocked him in her favorite rocking chair.  The absurd, bonkers, overboard, birthday bashes she organized for both him and his sister every friggin’ year until they were old enough to insist she dial back the adorable insanity.  The way she would stand to the side giggling uncontrollably at his ultra-competitive Mom once he got old enough to regularly beat her at basketball or soccer or video games.  How a few stern words from her spoke volumes more than a profuse tirade from his Mom ever could amongst one of the many lectures he endured regarding the vital importance of taking responsibility for one’s own actions.  How she always smells like an amazing blend of vanilla and cinnamon and can with a single enveloping hug and a lingering forehead kiss banish every iota of hurt, confusion, pain, and fear plaguing her children, even when they are fully grown adults.  His Ma is a lionhearted woman who loves with every last ounce of her strength, and it was more than a little disconcerting to witness her holding that ferociousness ransom in the obviously fading hope that a rescuer might appear to set it free.  Thankfully, he is a devoted son who is willing to brave her wrath to secure her happiness, which he did by pushing her toward a certain irritatingly complicated blonde.  

The various images of his Ma, heartwarming as they are, mingle with one of his other mom as he watched her first set foot in the shelter.  Looking for all the world like she didn’t know what the hell she was doing there, all the while unwilling to surrender an inch to fear or doubt, she was yet so fragile he was afraid to even breath in her general direction lest she shatter into a million pieces.  He had to get to know her first before he risked ingratiating himself to the point she would grant him permission for one stilted hug.  

He’d like to say that it shocked him to see her so walled off, the woman who carried and nourished him inside her body for nine months and then endured unspeakable pain to deliver him safely into the world, but it didn’t.  His Mom has always had trouble letting people in, which in combination with her frightening dark side could make her a foreboding person to approach.  From his first memories, he can recall glimpsing fleeting specters of what he’d witnessed in earnest while on this escapade in the past: a simmering rage and innate cynicism fueled by pain that only his Ma can assuage.  Once or twice he was the unlucky target to bear the brunt of an outburst that scared him witless, and scared his Mom even more – so much so that she would sequester herself in the bedroom or the spare bathroom until she calmed down or his Ma intervened to soothe the offended beast back into her thick iron mental cage.  He never really understood why his Mom got that way sometimes until just last year, about five months after his eighteenth birthday, when he learned about Black Siren.  That wasn’t a happy time for him, or for his Mom.  He had always known she had a troubled past, but that...that shook the foundations of his essential being, made him doubt his own moral and ethic core, and worst of all caused him to doubt his Mom’s ability to love.  It took both his Ma and his Uncle Ollie teaming up to knock some sense into him for him to get his head out of his ass and to stop avoiding and start talking to his Mom again.  

And now?  Well, now he’s glad he knows about Black Siren, because if nothing else, this trip into the past has given him a reality check as to just how awful his Mom’s life was to have molded her into the hateful person she was before his Grandpa took a chance on her that his Ma later picked up and ran with.  Once, and fortuitously, she got to the shelter early enough to join in a group session with the therapist that visits the facility once per week.  He had to sit there silently and listen as she got roped into sharing, then grit his teeth through the empathetic agony of her divulging a lot more than she had originally intended.  The things she went through before she met his Ma...Quen shudders at the very thought.  The silver lining to that intolerable experience is that at least he has a reference to work with dealing with her occasional mood swings.  

Also, this foray has given him a new, unique perspective into how much his parents love each other.  To have overcome so much adversity just to be together is, quite frankly, astonishing.  Nora has told him so many times that his Moms’ love story rivals that of any epic parental romance within the group of kids belonging to the venerated members of the Justice League, but he never quite believed her.  How could he when they were competing with the likes of Superman and Lois Lane, the Green Arrow and his Overwatch, the Flash and Iris West, and Supergirl and her mysteriously broody governmental handler all the kids simply know as their favorite Aunt Alex.  But those precious hours surreptitiously watching them interact in the kitchen and during the post-dinner clean up operation afforded him a view that, while slightly biased, was able to recognize that same divine spark between them that he sensed whenever he was around his friends’ folks.  It was nice, so nice that his heart is still soaring high in the clouds above, to be given the immense privilege of bearing witness to the event that will begin an inevitable spiral into his – and his sister’s – future conception upon a recovered Kryptonian Genesis ship.  And come what may, be it unavoidable tragedy like Nora’s Uncle Wally getting imprisoned outside the timeline by Abra Kadabra, or some catastrophic event like Darkseid himself descending upon his Earth tomorrow, he won’t be forgetting this adventure any time soon.  It has ignited in him a flame of hope that cannot be quenched and solidified a belief that will endure until his death that love really can conquer all.

“Well, I guess you guys will see me in five years and twelve months on the dot” he says, his gaze turning instinctively to the apartment in which he knows his parents to be making the first baby steps toward a future they have both risked life and limb to protect multiple times.  “Good thing it’ll be sooner for me.  Just hope you guys don’t kill me when I tell you where I’ve been for the past month...”

And with the press of a button upon his Vibe-rator – he snickers at the thought of the name – Quentin Nicholas Lance disappears from view to join his best friend for their return trip to the future.  He is not seen again until many years later. Twenty-four years,  ten days, seven hours, and thirteen minutes to be precise, which is two minutes late and of no consequence to anyone but Maya, who uses that as an excuse to hit him.  

Damn that punchy brat.  

Quen rubs his sore arm, but the smile on his face remains until he is engulfed by two pairs of arms that officially ring in another Merry Christmas for the Lances.  To his unending delight, in addition to a new Quantum Tablet, his Moms pulled some really big strings to get him into the Air Force Academy.  He can’t wait to tell Nora!  And as he rushes to dial his bestie up on his Vibe-device, he gives them both the biggest hugs he can muster up.  He doesn’t see how their eyes catch over his shoulder, glowing with love for each other and pride for their child and happiness over his happiness, but then again he doesn’t really need to.  He sees it every single day.  Nor would it have registered even if he had caught it.  He is far too excited to think of little else than realizing his dream of becoming a pilot.

Merry Christmas to me! He thinks as he hears Nora’s voice chime through the tiny, nearly impervious subdermal implants designed by his Uncle Cisco that were wired into his ears after a childhood accident his Mom still hasn’t forgiven herself for rendered him deaf.

“Hey!  You’ll never guess what I got for Christmas!”

Nora does guess, the know-it-all brat, but his enthusiasm doesn’t diminish one iota. This is, after all, the best Christmas ever.  And not just because he got everything he wanted, but because he got to watch his parents take the final steps in their journey falling in love.  How many kids get to make that boast?  Not any he knows of besides Nora.  

Quen has an extended family that loves him, a bright future ahead of him, a sister that would fight the world for him, and Moms who love him – and each other – more than he could ever begin to describe.  And that makes him the luckiest kid alive.

THE END 

[officialotakudome]

New Post has been published on Otaku Dome | The Latest News In Anime, Manga, Gaming, Tech, and Geek Culture

New Post has been published on https://otakudome.com/nintendo-announces-oxenfree-ii-more-to-switch/

Nintendo Announces Oxenfree II & More to Switch

Nintendo has unveiled several indie games coming to Nintendo Switch:

REDMOND, Wash.–(BUSINESS WIRE)– Spring is in the air, and the latest indie adventures on Nintendo Switch are in full bloom! During the latest Indie World video presentation, Nintendo detailed 21 games from independent developers that are coming to Nintendo Switch – with three launching later today!

Indie games featured in the showcase include Road 96, a procedural story-driven game from DigixArt that will change depending on the choices you make; OXENFREE II: Lost Signals, a sequel to the original acclaimed supernatural game from Night School Studio; OlliOlli World, Roll7’s new skateboarding action game in the totally gnarly OlliOlli franchise; a pair of new games from celebrated publisher Annapurna Interactive; and The Longing, an experimental real-time adventure from Studio Seufz that launches today for Nintendo Switch.

Additionally, an Indie World sale is starting today in Nintendo eShop, offering discounts on select indie games for Nintendo Switch from now until April 25 at 11:59 p.m. PT. For a full list of indie games featured in the promotion, visit https://www.nintendo.com/games/sales-and-deals/.

“Nintendo Switch continues to offer a fresh and expanding library of great indie games that surprise players with their unique visions and compelling gameplay,” said Steve Singer, Nintendo of America’s Senior Vice President of Publisher and Developer Relations. “We hope people can enjoy these diverse games from talented independent developers anytime, anywhere on Nintendo Switch.”

Road 96 from DigixArt: In a narrative-focused game with a mix of adventure, exploration and puzzle-solving, Road 96 tells a procedural story with thousands of potential paths to take. Meet characters from all walks of life and learn their intertwining stories. The decisions you make – both big and small – can drastically alter your experience. There are many roads. Which one will you take? Road 96 drives onto Nintendo Switch later this year.

OXENFREE II: Lost Signals from Night School Studio: Published by MWM Interactive, OXENFREE II: Lost Signals is a supernatural narrative adventure game about a researcher who stumbles upon ghostly happenings. Five years after the events of OXENFREE, Riley returns to her hometown of Camena to investigate mysterious radio frequency signals causing curious disturbances. OXENFREE II: Lost Signals comes to Nintendo Switch in 2021.

OlliOlli World from Roll7: The bold new entry in the OlliOlli series is here! In OlliOlli World, tear up the streets of Radland and search for the mystical skate gods in this slick action platformer. With super-tight controls and level design that flows with your combos, you’ll have a blast mastering tricks, meeting colorful characters and discovering the hidden secrets of this vivid and vibrant world. OlliOlli World launches for Nintendo Switch this winter.

Annapurna Interactive: Two new games from Annapurna Interactive, the award-winning publishers of Florence and What Remains of Edith Finch, are coming to Nintendo Switch. These are just the latest artistic gems from the publisher’s already impressive library of games!

Hindsight: Hindsight, from developer Joel McDonald, is a poignant narrative game about an older woman reminiscing about her family. The objects from her past serve as portals into long-lost memories, revealing a decision that forever changed her life. Learn more when Hindsight launches for Nintendo Switch this year.

Last Stop: Last Stop from developer Variable State is a single-player third-person adventure set in modern-day London, where you play as three separate characters whose worlds collide in the midst of a supernatural crisis. What connects these three strangers? Where will fate lead them? Find out when Last Stop launches for Nintendo Switch in July.

The Longing from Studio Seufz: With a beautiful hand-drawn art style and an intriguing story, The Longing is unlike anything you have played before! The big twist: You don’t actually have to play to see how it ends! But that doesn’t mean you should just sit idly by. As main character Shade, you must wait 400 days for your king to awaken. While waiting, you can explore dark caves, complete time-based puzzles and collect items. Start your countdown clock now, as The Longing launches for Nintendo Switch … later today!

Aerial_Knight’s Never Yield from Aerial_Knight: This is not your typical “runner” game! Run, jump, slide and dash through a futuristic Tokyo-styled Detroit to a head-bopping soundtrack as the protagonist Wally to save what’s left of the future. Aerial_Knight’s Never Yield slides onto Nintendo Switch on May 19. A demo will be available in Nintendo eShop later today!

FEZ from Polytron: Gomez is a 2D creature living in a 2D world. Or is he? When the existence of a mysterious third dimension is revealed to him, Gomez is sent out on a journey that will take him to the very end of time and space. Use your ability to navigate 3D structures from four distinct classic 2D perspectives. The critically acclaimed FEZ launches for Nintendo Switch … later today!

Aztech Forgotten Gods from Lienzo: If you’re looking for a grand adventure inspired by Aztec mythology, look no further than Aztech Forgotten Gods from Mexican studio Lienzo. Gain powerful arm upgrades, traverse different areas within an advanced Mesoamerican metropolis and encounter all sorts of characters to uncover ancient secrets. Aztech Forgotten Gods soars onto Nintendo Switch this fall.

There is No Game: Wrong Dimension from Draw Me A Pixel: Despite its title, this really is a game! There is No Game: Wrong Dimension is a point-and-click comedy adventure filled with riddles and puzzles. If you’re looking for something different and experimental that’s full of surprises, look no further. There is No Game: Wrong Dimension launches for Nintendo Switch … later today!

Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Shredder’s Revenge from Tribute Games: With a blend of retro and modern visuals, Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Shredder’s Revenge finds the four favorite turtles kicking some serious shell in classic arcade-style beat-’em-up action. Up to four players can play locally* or online in this bodacious game developed by Tribute Games and published by Dotemu, who also published Streets of Rage 4 and Wonder Boy: The Dragon’s Trap. Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Shredder’s Revenge launches for Nintendo Switch later this year.

Cris Tales from Dreams Uncorporated and SYCK: Drawing inspiration from classic and modern JRPGs, Cris Tales incorporates time traveling into its storyline and combat with a variety of surprise effects, like making enemies younger and thus easier to defeat. While exploring this handcrafted, dark fairy-tale world, you’ll recruit a diverse cast of allies and discover new realms. Cris Tales lands on Nintendo Switch on July 20.

GetsuFumaDen: Undying Moon from Konami Digital Entertainment and GuruGuru: Showcasing a stylized Japanese aesthetic, GetsuFumaDen: Undying Moon delivers a dynamic hack-and-slash roguelite experience, filled with perilous dungeons, fierce boss battles and intense, skill-based combat. GetsuFumaDen: Undying Moon launches for Nintendo Switch next year.

Beasts of Maravilla Island from Banana Bird Studios, LLC: In this 3D adventure game, take on the role of a young wildlife photographer who traverses Maravilla Island’s magical ecosystems to discover extraordinary creatures, learn their behaviors and, most importantly, photograph their majesty. Beasts of Maravilla Island launches for Nintendo Switch in June.

Skul: The Hero Slayer from SouthPAW Games: Take on an entire army to rescue your king in this 2D fast-action roguelite. And the best part? To progress in the game, you’ll need to swap abilities, which is done by swapping … heads! With 90 playable character variations, each with their own special abilities, you might think you’re out of your skull in real life! Skul: The Hero Slayer launches for Nintendo Switch this summer.

art of rally from Funselektor Labs Inc.: Will you master the art of rally? Drive iconic cars inspired by the golden era of rally racing on challenging stages through stylized environments set around the world. art of rally launches for Nintendo Switch this summer.

KeyWe from Stonewheat & Sons: KeyWe is a cute, cooperative postal puzzler starring two small kiwi birds working in a whimsical post office. They must jump, flap and butt-slam across an interactive landscape of levers, bells and buttons to get those messages delivered on time! KeyWe launches for Nintendo Switch in August.

ENDER LILIES: Quietus of the Knights from Binary Haze Interactive: In this dark fantasy 2D action-RPG, encounter horrific enemies against whom a moment of inattention could be fatal. Overcome these hardships and seek the truth with the help of fallen knights. ENDER LILIES: Quietus of the Knights launches for Nintendo Switch on June 21.

Weaving Tides from Follow the Feathers: Call your Weaver and soar across a stunning woven landscape. Set out on a journey to explore ancient dungeons, solve puzzles, wrap up your foes and unravel the great mysteries of a long-forgotten past. Weaving Tides, a charming single-player adventure set in a world of magic and textile, launches for Nintendo Switch in May.

Labyrinth City: Pierre the Maze Detective from Darjeeling: Adapted from the children’s book series, Labyrinth City: Pierre the Maze Detective takes you across incredibly detailed mazes to retrieve a powerful artifact. On your quest, you will interact with more than 500 items or characters, find over 100 hidden objects and wander about in beautiful locations. Labyrinth City: Pierre the Maze Detective launches for Nintendo Switch this spring.

THE HOUSE OF THE DEAD: Remake from Forever Entertainment: The classic arcade rail-shooter is back with a new makeover and exciting gameplay changes! In this multiplayer game, you’ll suit up as a pair of government agents sent to investigate disappearances only to find hordes of undead monstrosities. THE HOUSE OF THE DEAD: Remake launches for Nintendo Switch later this year.

[birdsgoflying]

Normal - Birdflash Fic

It all started after one particularly rough mission.

The Joker had pulled one of his stunts again – he planted a bomb underneath a bank and held the inhabitants hostage and the team went in to intervene. They expected it would be quick and simple, thinking that the Joker would take off running when Conner smashed his way through the front door. But they were wrong. They had underestimated the sheer number of the Joker’s henchmen. The team scrambled to keep from becoming overwhelmed and overpowered and they slowly watched themselves lose the advantage. The henchmen ended up capturing Robin in the middle of a scuffle, handcuffing him to a metal pipe in the basement and handing him over to the Joker.

The Joker forced the rest of the team to stand down, blatantly disobeying Robin’s begged orders to ignore him and take the baddies out regardless of what happened to him. They weren't willing to risk getting Robin hurt. He got hurt anyway. They laid their weapons on the ground and allowed Joker’s henchmen to roughly restrain them. The team watched helplessly, bound and gagged while the Joker tortured Robin, carving little patterns into Robin’s pale flesh with a knife. He kicked Robin’s ribs, his legs, smashed his hands with a brick. The Joker promised to kill each of them one by one and make the remaining members watch as he put on a sadistic show.

The madman made the mistake of turning his attention away from Robin for a second too long though, giving Robin the chance to twist his body into an inhuman contortion in spite of his restraints to press a hidden button and activate an emergency signal. Batman burst in minutes later, practically foaming at the mouth with fury at the sight of his beaten and bloody sidekick. He broke the Joker’s ribs, smashed his face in with one well-aimed punch, then unceremoniously tossed him into the arms of GCPD officers to be thrown back into Arkham.

The team came out of it just fine. Robin survived; most of his wounds were merely surface-level and would heal in a matter of days. But they were just so goddamn tired. No child their age was equipped to handle this lifestyle. Tonight had been particularly hard on them. They had grown so close over the past few years; they were connected through M'Gann's mind-link at least one day a week these days. They moved in unison, a kind of intimacy that few people knew. The prospect of losing someone who they had literally shared a mind with was terrifying. Each of them visualized quietly how empty it would feel with any one of them gone.

When they returned to the cave after a quick debrief with Batman, the team’s nerves were collectively shot. Batman left to give them some space, and they wordlessly slumped down onto the furniture in the living room. Wally threw himself onto the couch, gently pulling Rob down with him. Rob curled up with his head in Wally’s lap. The speedster mindlessly ran his hand through the boy’s ebony hair, carefully avoiding the freshly bandaged wounds on his forehead. The other members of the team were scattered around the living room, lost in their own world.

They were tired. Not just physically; they were a down-to-the-core, my-soul-aches kind of tired. Balancing their superhero lives with their private lives was exhausting in its own right. But more than that, they faced trauma daily that most civilians aren’t asked to face in an entire lifetime. As much as they try to laugh it off – and make no mistake, there are times where laughing it off works – being shot at, captured, tortured, and pushed into wars they weren't responsible for had ground them down to the bone. There are some things that laughter just can’t cure. Watching one of their friends get tortured was definitely one of them. Robin’s broken screams still echoed fresh in their minds.

Conner stood up wordlessly, causing the other members of the team to jump in surprise. He stiffly moved to the couch and sat down in the open seat next to Robin. Wally gave him a nod in solidarity. Superboy motioned to M’Gann and she floated over to settle into his lap. Wally pulled Dick upwards, nestling in behind him and tucking Dick’s body into his in a spooning position. He motioned the rest of the team over. Kaldur and Artemis, understanding the request, squeezed in between the two couples. The team silently wrapped themselves around each other. Personal space was nonexistent between them at that moment. They wanted to stay there, wrapped up in each other, forever.

They sat around the cave in silence for hours, each member unwilling to let the other five out of their sight. Facing death is always a scary thing, but facing the death of someone so close to you and being unable to help? That was the stuff of nightmares. They desperately needed to be together, to see with their own eyes that the most important people to them in the entire world were still alive.

The team stayed there with love and caring and acceptance flowing over them in waves through M’Gann’s telepathic link until their trembling stopped and a feeling of peace settled over them. After a while, Kaldur cleared his throat. He could feel through the mind link that they were all hungry. He suggested a distraction - preferably one that involved food - and since there was no way the team would let each other out of their sight that evening, he suggested a team bonding night. Wally brightened a little and suggested a new bar and grill that just opened up in Central City, adding that it would definitely still be open at the current late hour. After a round of looks amongst themselves, checking in with each other to see whether or not they were up for it, the team quietly agreed and carefully untangled themselves from their cuddle pile. They radioed their mentors to let them know their plan, promised to check in later on that evening, and hopped in the Zeta tube.

In spite of the late hour, the bar and grill was still buzzing with energy. The lively atmosphere felt a little abrasive at first, but as the team silently eased into it, it began to feel almost… healing. They sat in a corner, away from the other patrons and restaurant staff. The dull drone of the restaurant’s other patrons talking and laughing along with the clanging of pots and pans in the kitchen blended to create a calming hum.

Robin produced a fake ID out of his pocket and purchased a round of beers for the whole team.

The team needed to laugh and drink like they hadn't just almost watched their best friends die one by one, so that's what they did. They were pretty reserved in spite of the alcohol; they giggling together into the wee hours of the morning, cracking jokes about everything from their mentors to hilariously botched missions in their early years to the funny happenings that come from running a double-life. They all felt better afterwards, warm and tipsy and feeling just on this side of normal.

Upon taking the Zeta tubes back, they still didn’t want to part ways. After a silent agreement over the mind-link they made their way down the hall as a group and crowded into M’Gann’s room – it had the biggest bed. They all collapsed together onto the mattress, exhausted, and soon fell asleep to the comforting sound of each other’s steady breathing and the warm weight of each other’s bodies.

So when the next week rolled around, after getting embarrassingly curb-stomped by a gang of Captain Cold’s henchmen, they contemplated returning to the restaurant. Batman objected, stating that they cannot be seen at any one place as a group consistently or villains (or, god forbid, paparazzi) might notice a pattern which could leave them vulnerable. The team agreed, and in spite of Batman’s frown, opted to go to a real bar instead.

Robin pulled convincing fake ID’s out of his utility belt for each member of the team (the sneaky bastard), and they Zeta’d to a bar in Star City. They lounged at their table comfortably, sipping their drinks, enjoying the feeling of looseness and warmth spreading through their bodies. They were still gently telepathically connected, so they just basked in their connection and in being alive.

The next week, although their mission went well, they went to another bar and did a few rounds of shots. Their moods soared after a successful mission, and they wanted to capitalize on that after the rough couple of weeks they’d had. They toasted to their mentors, to their health, to the concept of justice, and to the League. As the night went on, they toasted to increasingly stupid things - like henchmen who can’t shoot a gun for shit, armor that doesn't chafe, and super-villains who monologue waaay too often. None of them ended up in their own beds that night; they just collapsed on the softest surface they could find, sharing beds or couches with whoever they happened to collapse next to.

The following week they hit up a club and got so wasted that they returned to the cave and crashed on the floor in the living room, not even bothering to drag themselves to a bed. They simply used each other as pillows and snoozed until noon the next morning. They woke up hungover, but Kaldur – being the determined, responsible leader that he is - forced them to gulp down several glasses of water and eat a big breakfast, so they bounced back and resumed training later on that evening.

Unbeknownst to the team, it was at that point that Batman intervened. He assigned a member of the Justice League to follow the team undercover in rotating shifts to ensure that no harm befell them. He did leave strict instructions, however, not to intervene unless they were in imminent physical danger. He knew what it was like, after all. The team just needed to blow off steam and reconnect to their human side. Maybe it wasn’t the healthiest outlet, but… was there even a truly healthy way of blowing off steam? Black Canary only had so many hours in the day to spend on talking them through their trauma. It seemed to work well enough. The team was still keeping up with their training in spite of their outings, so he allowed it to continue without comment.

One week, they stopped in a quiet bar outside Keystone that was filled with hipsters and craft beer. Dick texted a selfie to Batman with the whole team holding their beer in the air in a toast and added the caption, "I love my life!" It brought tears of joy to Bruce's eyes. He had never seen his sidekick as happy as he looked in that photo.

Their weekly bar hopping adventures were pretty much expected now. They were common knowledge among the rest of the League. They looked forward to their nights out, chatting up ideas for their next outing over the mind link during their down time.

Spending so much time mind-melded had begun to affect them; they all felt a startling increase in for empathy for one another. It was hard not to empathize with someone when you were fused with their brain that long. What was once friendly banter and teasing over the mind link turned into something softer, more affectionate. Each member of the team felt affection a little bit differently, but they could all recognize the general feeling over the mind link. There were small nuanced differences, but it was there.

Wally didn’t hide much from his team. The term “open book” applied well to him. He felt love strongly, unrestrained and unrelenting. Love was simple to him. It was a force of nature, and he didn’t bother resisting it. He never held back. It was beautiful for the others to behold. The affection Wally held for his friends felt like warm sunshine over the mind-link. He shared memories of his excitement at meeting Robin for the first time, the adoration and respect he felt for him as they grew closer, and the joy that grew within him as he realized that they had become best friends. He shared his memories of his emotionally abusive father and explained to the team that he fears being like him, which is why he is so constantly affectionate - he doesn't want anyone to ever feel the way he felt. His friends would know that they were loved.

Dick generally quiet, but when the situation called for it, he had a soft eloquence to the way he expressed his feelings. Dick had seen enough trauma in his formative years that he got really good at psychoanalyzing himself. He surprised the team at first with how his mind processed things. He viewed feelings as neither right nor wrong; they just... were. Every feeling was valid in its own right, and they were all there for a reason, whether stemming from maladaptive behavior or otherwise. To Dick, rules just didn’t apply to feelings, just as they didn’t apply to the English language. His teammates frequently felt him processing his thoughts over the link as he stacked his feelings together the same way he stacked words together; pulling them apart, dissecting them, studying them, piecing them back together how he wanted. Eventually, through the mental link, Dick shared his back story - the pain of losing his parents, the confusion when adopted by a stranger, the exhilaration at becoming Robin. He shared the dull pain in his heart that he still felt when he thought of his Flying Grayson days. He shared that English wasn't actually his first language (1), and that is why he is so fascinated with butchering it - he remembers learning it, and he likes to play with it; bend it to his will. He shared the conflicting desire within him to prove himself worthy to Bruce, and yet the desire to set himself apart from him. He shared what being in love with Wally felt like - like coming home after a long mission that pushes you far out of your comfort zone, returning to the place where you feel safe and where you unquestionably belong. And finally, he shared his relief at no longer having to hide large parts of himself from the people he loves most, as he'd had to do his entire life.

M’Gann felt things very differently than the rest; she was Martian, after all, and grew up with a constant mental link with everyone around her. Not that she took the link she shared with her team for granted; her whole team felt her unrestrained joy at having such a connection again. Love positively flowed through her. Being raised in such a communal manner had a very real impact on her. She tended to put others before herself, and her team had to calmly remind her on several occasions that if one of them grows weary, their whole team grows weak. She can’t burn herself out for the sake of helping others. After that, she repeated to herself that she needs to take care of herself so she is able to take care of her team, like a shameful mantra, but several members of the team pressed back at that; primarily, Robin and Aqualad. That reasoning, they insisted, only granted her permission to take care of herself so she can take care of other people rather than granting that she is allowed to be taken care of in her own right. She is worthy of being taken care of too. They are a unit, after all. Late at night, her eyes would frequently sting with unshed tears as she fought off feelings of unworthiness. She then felt the team pressing into her, reminding her that she is just as much a part of the team as they are, and her tears would fall along with the walls around her heart.

Superboy was different. He felt affection and protectiveness almost fearfully, even violently. It felt like a sharp pain to the others over the mental connection at first; it felt foreign and strange to some members of the team. They had noticed that he is usually in survival mode – fight, flight or freeze. He wasn’t even worried about himself; he was indestructible. He was worried about his teammates, who were very much destructible. He shared over the mind-link that the first thing he remembers in the entirety of his short life is waking up from his psychically-induced coma to see Kaldur, Kid Flash, and Robin. Robin had been the first to keep a promise to him – he showed him the moon, he introduced him to Superman. Aqualad had been the calming whisper in his ear when he was filled with rage and confusion inside CADMUS. Wally had been right there beside him when Superman was giving him confusing and mistrusting looks, insisting that Conner was just as much a part of the team as the three sidekicks were. He had literally known these people as long as he could remember; he had grown up alongside them. He couldn’t imagine life without them. Even when he didn't know who he was or why he was created, he knew who he cared about, and that was his anchor. The team felt his reasoning for being so protective and it brought tears to Wally and M'Gann’s eyes. The team had to spend several weeks sending reassuring feelings towards Conner in order for him to feel a little more secure in his friends’ safety. Over time, the dull ache inside him faded and was hardly noticeable anymore.

Artemis was also hardened, just in a different way. Rather than allowing herself to feel sadness or embarrassment or fear, she covered most of her emotions up with anger. She grew up in a rough home, a home where conflict was the primary method of human interaction. Old patterns are tough to break, she realized as she felt her teammates’ frustration when she was being contrary yet again. Affection didn’t come easily to her, and she tended to shut down when she thought someone was rejecting her. It made her a tough nut to crack. Her team’s frustration, she realized as time went on, did not stem from her behavior but rather stemmed from their inability to help her. She finally broke down and cried when she realized that, for the first time, she knew what acceptance felt like.

Kaldur, oldest and wisest of all of them, held them all in high esteem in his heart. He was raised in a very formal environment where affection was not openly shown, so he struggled to feel anything too deeply at times. It did not come easily to him. He would frequently ponder it within the mental link, simply feeling his teammates’ feelings, soaking it all in with a sense of wonder. He felt the others mentally lean in when he did so, giving him the equivalent of a mind-link hug. He appreciated every moment of it.

The mind link forged their bond deeper. They sometimes left it open well after missions ended, just to chat with each other. M’Gann felt a quiet nudge in her mind at odd times, which she realized was a teammate requesting that she open the link. She always obliged, and quickly figured out that she could tell who was requesting it; each person’s touch in her mind felt different, distinct. They could all feel it, and they could immediately tell when one of them wasn’t connected. M’Gann would seek them out, the team feeling a rush of warmth, feeling complete, when the missing member joined the link. They found themselves spending more and more time linked together, whether in the same room or not.

Their bar outings continued. The team went from simply sitting around, drinking and laughing together during their outings, to dancing together as the weeks went on. It started with Wally admitting that he knew the “Party Rock Anthem” choreography, and Dick turned to him with a slurred declare of “ME TOO!” The team laughed as the two boys flawlessly imitated the music video in spite of their intoxication, matching each other move-for-move. The boys worked so well in-sync, both on and off the field. Wally and Dick taught the rest of the team the choreography and they danced as a group every time the song came on. The psychic link helped; they guided each other through the moves, filling in the blanks for each other when exhaustion or alcohol caused them to forget a step. It was quite the spectacle.

Batman watched their comings and goings in silence, begrudgingly approving of their new bar-hopping routine. The team seemed to be closer than ever. They appeared to be, for the first time, thriving rather than merely surviving.

As the weeks went on, they continued to surprise each other. Reserved Robin turned out to be a genuine party animal. He could dance like Magic Mike and didn’t mind being the center of attention, unlike the stealthy bird that he was while he wore the cape and domino mask. Wally surprised the group as well; it turns out he had some talent they didn’t know about – he could break-dance better than anyone they had ever seen (it helped that he had such fast feet). He and Robin would frequently get into dance-offs; as an acrobat, Dick could basically move his body any way he wanted. As with all aspects of their lives, the two boys competed against each other and pushed each other and both got better for it. Dick learned some moves from Wally and they break-danced in sync, earning awed stares and cheers every time they performed together. In turn, Dick taught Wally some Magic Mike-style dance routines, and the boys caused quite a few club patrons’ cheeks to flush and pants to tighten. They were both very kinesthetic people; dancing just came naturally to them.

It wasn’t just Robin and Wally though; they were ALL kinesthetic people. It just came with the territory. Sparring, aiming a weapon, hand-to-hand combat… Fighting and dancing aren’t that entirely different - one is just better choreographed.

Each outing became rowdier. Wally and Dick’s weekly break-dancing competition turned into dirty dancing against each other, and as they got more and more comfortable with each other, the rest of the team began to engage with them too. They all just wanted to feel alive with the people who they almost died alongside. The girls danced together, the guys danced together, they mingled. Each teammate brought their own spice to the mix. Dick’s style of dancing was smooth and sensual. Wally’s was straight dirty. Connor and Kaldur were a little reserved, but easily opened up with the team, keeping up with even the two rowdier boys as they grew more comfortable and confident. Artemis danced like she talked – roughly and to the point, in your face and shameless. M’Gann was shy at first, but Artemis slid in behind her to guide her hips and, flush against M’Gann’s back, felt her pick it up quickly.

At each outing, every member of the team made sure to spend at least a few minutes dancing with one another. They all dirty danced together, even the ones in relationships, regardless of gender and sexual preference. Sexuality be damned; they were all so close at this point that nobody cared. There was a certain intimacy to be found in consistently almost dying together – what’s a mindless pelvic grind compared to that? It felt amazing to feel their blood pumping together, pressed together and feeling each other’s breath, reveling in the physical evidence that the people they care about most were alive and right there with them and so connected, physically and mentally. Alcohol flowed easily on those nights.

At Batman’s request, they stayed unpredictable and tried a new bar every week. Their weekly outings became as essential to them as training simulations and counseling sessions with Black Canary. The team loved their new routine. It cleared their heads, it reaffirmed their connection, it was fun. For the first time since they took on the responsibility of being superheroes, their lives were finally beginning to feel balanced.

After a couple months of bar hopping, they wound up at a gay night club. Their mission that evening had gone badly -- about as badly as one could possibly go, and they needed to shake off their residual feelings of terror. Dick walked straight to the bar, downed four shots and jumped up on an empty table, dancing like a stripper even though the booze hadn’t even hit him yet. Wally cheered him on and wolf-whistled as he moved. Dick cocked his eyebrow at him and leaned down, extending his hand, pulling Wally up on the table with him. They began to grind in sync, Wally bending his knees to press up against Dick’s backside.

Dick had almost died during that night’s mission. Just as Robin shot his grappling hook in the air and jumped off a rooftop, a rogue with a point to prove had cut his line with a well-aimed arrow. Dick fell seven stories. Wally had watched it in horror, feet frozen, before jerking to life and skidding his feet into motion so quickly that he left a burn mark on the concrete. He hurled himself up into the air and jumped under Dick just seconds before Superboy did, and Conner wrapped his arms around them both, cushioning their fall.

Dick’s body had been wound tight in a ball in Wally’s arms, still braced for impact, and Wally seized the acrobat’s hands and pried them away from his eyes to search his facial expression for signs of pain. Dick looked up with a wince, realizing he wasn’t dead, and threw his arms around both Wally and Superboy. The three of them trembled together for a moment, their psychic link clearly communicating the fear still fresh in their minds. Concern and relief flowed over them in waves from the other three members of the team. They all shakily nodded to each other, not even needing to express their mixed gratitude and worry. They all felt it.

The team had stumbled home after the mission, quickly debriefed with Batman and changed into civvies without talking. As they all reconvened in the living room, all it took was a short “So, Gotham this time?” from Dick to have the team grinning and running for the Zeta tubes.

Wally’s eyes sparkled as he moved against Dick's lithe body, attention completely focused on the young acrobat, pressing his cheek up against the younger man’s neck and murmuring a loving stream of consciousness into his ear. They balanced themselves on the table, swaying back and forth. He ran his hands up and down to caress his chest and abs, feeling his rapid heartbeat under the lightweight cotton t-shirt he wore. Wally found himself profoundly comforted by the feeling of his heart beating. He needed to feel that Dick was alive, pulsating and moving and breathing and his.

After the team had danced themselves into a sweaty mess, they stumbled back out of the club, giggling at Wally’s impression of Batman’s strained, gravely voice – “I am vengeance! I am the night! I am… CONSTIPATED!” Dick fell over himself with laughter, and Wally quickly caught him and slung an arm over his shoulder.

The team made their way back to the Zeta tube, whooping and laughing, not a care in the world. Though none of them said anything, they were all aware of Green Arrow following a few hundred feet behind them in civvies. They had caught on at that point that they usually had a Leaguer following them, but allowed it to happen. They felt even freer and safer knowing that someone was looking out for them, though none of them would admit it to the League. Wally looked back at Green Arrow, who pretended to be texting on his cell phone. He could swear he saw Arrow wink at him. He just rolled his eyes and turned back to his team.

Still filled with mirthful laughter, they stumbled through the Zeta beam, following each other into Dick and Wally’s shared room. By then, the boys had moved their video games, uniforms and Dick’s various gadgets into one room and had pushed their beds into the other, creating a giant room-sized bed just for nights like these. More often than not, the entire team would crash together in their room after their outings, reveling in their mind-link, each magnifying the group’s feelings of comfort, acceptance and - lately, increasingly unrestrained joy.

The team left the psychic link open almost constantly nowadays, basking in the loose connection to each other, allowing the others’ feelings to be a soft hum in the backgrounds of their minds. It was comfortable. Familiar. Having spent so much time in each other’s heads, it felt almost second-nature to have the mind link open. As much as the link felt like an unnatural intrusion when they felt it for the very first time, their minds now felt somewhat empty without it. The connection that they held with each other was one unlike anything they ever dreamed they would experience. They balanced each other out, filling each other’s pitfalls, holding each other up in times of need.

Their hearts felt full, like the feeling of having just eaten a warm home-cooked meal; the dull ache they used to feel was, over time, replaced by the stream of love and acceptance seeping from their teammates’ minds.

They may never feel normal, but this was their normal, and they wouldn’t trade it for anything in the world.

http://archiveofourown.org/works/8826136