#Flash FIction

[ijustlive]

"I want to be your moon."

"You want to circle around me?"

"I want to circle *with* you. You are like the world to me, and I always want to stay near you. I want you to pull me along, decide my course. But as much as you pull on me, I want to pull you a little in return too. I want to not just to orbit you, but to spin with you around our shared point of gravity as if we are dancing. Even if it moves you just a little bit, I want to playfully tug your tides. I want to protect you in whatever small way I can, and shine brightly when you cannot find the light for yourself."

not romantic not platonic but a secret third thing [what would happen between earth and the moon if the earth stopped spinning as illustrated by xkcd randall munroe]

[microsff]

After the aliens made First Contact, one human asked: "How did you find us? Radio signals?"

"No, it was by chance, a few millennia ago."

"So you waited for us to mature?"

"Our leaders did, yes."

"So-"

"But at last they accepted that you won't."

"Oh…"

"You may keep laughing."

[gothamite-rambler]

Stephanie Brown giving relationship advice

Stephanie: You should be with someone who will drag you outside at 3 AM to gaze at the stars.

Jason jotted this down on a small notepad.

Jason: Noted.

Stephanie walked away with a mischievous smile.

Later, at 3 AM…

Roy (screaming as he's dragged out of bed): GET OUT!

Jason: Come on, let’s do this together.

Roy: IT IS 3 IN THE MORNING!

Jason: Stop resisting! I’m doing this because I love you!

Roy: Stop! We’re not dating! What is wrong with you?!

Jason: It’s good advice! Quit clinging to the bed!

Roy: Get out of my room! How did you even get into my house?!

Jason: Not important! Just stop kicking!

Lian strolled past her father’s room with a glass of milk on her way back to her own room to sleep.

Roy: I swear to God, if you drag me outside to look at the damn sky, you’ll be removed from my life indefinitely.

Jason: Romantic talk won't deter me!

[whereserpentswalk]

There's a door somewhere that's been closed forever. As long as people can remember, the first records of its existence, it's been closed. And even in the first records of its existence, people were watching it, waiting for it to be opened.

It's a massive door, in an underground chamber, the room its in is the largest room on earth. It's beautiful and ornate, and so strangely alien. After the initial hallway the room with the door is the only room in the chamber, like it's the entrance to a massive complex that humanity will never see. It's architecture is like no known culture, there are carvings on the walls of animals that don't exist, and writing in a language nobody knows. Some think that it's the work of aliens, some think it's the work of an advanced ancient culture, others that it's the work of beings from another dimension. Scientists and historians find all of those possibilities disturbingly possible.

There are tons of theories as to what's beyond the door. Every single religion that has come in contact with the door has managed to tie it into its mythology, especially ideas about the end of the world. And secular conspiracy theorists love it just as much. There are theories that the door will lead to hell, and that the rapture will start when it opens, theories that the door is where the messiah waits, or where God's body on earth is. There are theories that behind the door lies the secret of eternal life. Theories that aliens will open the door when they're ready to contact humanity. Theories that behind the door are the secrets to the universe, that it'll usher in a new age of humanity when opened. Theories that there's treasure behind the door, or technology that will change the way humanity lives. But there is one throughline amoung almost all theories, at least those belived by those invested in it, which is that they believe the door will open soon, and that those who see it opened will benefit the most. And there's been theories like this for thousands of years.

People of all religions will save up to make holy pilgrimages to the door, skipping meals, depriving their children of toys, so they can sit in front of the door for a few days, hoping to be the ones to see it open, returning home disappointed. There are conmen who'll sell the smallest things from the door, from water thats touched it, to pebbles that have fallen off of it, and people will believe it'll heal the sick, or work miracles. In ancient times conquerors would go to the door, making such a big deal out of it being in their lands. In modern times a small republic of a few thousand people, as old as the first world war, controls the territory of the door, they do their best to let people of all walks of life come to it, and try to stop any single group from dominating the space.

And of course there are people who live near the door. The entrance to the chamber is now surrounded by a modern city, and the room the door is in, and the hallway before it, are so large that they basically contain an entire town/neighborhood. The people who live in the room of the door are all those who are waiting for it to open (and a small population of people making good money off of them). They all have their own sections within the giant room, from evangelicals waiting to see Jesus behind the door, to alien theorists waiting to see the secrets of the stars, to new agers waiting for the opening of the doors to enter earth into a new era. The underground town is one of the most crowded places on earth, and as long as you're outside you can see the doors. Basically everyone who lives there thinks it's the only place they can ever be, as dark as it is down there they need to live where the doors will soon open. Some even go so far as to never leave the room even temporarily, many people living and dying in this one underground room, never being anywhere else, never seeing the sun. When those who where born in the room grow up to move somewhere else, abandoning their hopes of seeing the door open, their parents grieve as if they've lost their chance at salvation, and mourn them as if they were dead oftentimes.

Trying to get very close to the door is nearly impossible. It gets more and more crowded the closer you get to the door. And the space where it's close enough to actually touch the door is constantly covered with people, you have to sift through the thickest crowds on earth to get close enough to touch it, and people, thinking it has mystical properties, will. People have been trampled to death trying to touch that door. The entire underground town is unreasonable crowded, but nothing comes close to that small sliver of space where the door can be touched.

Science has had a rough relationship with the door. In older times people have tried to open it. The last time it was tried was when it was under British rule in the 19th century. It didn't go well. They might be able to do more now, but most of the people the door is important to don't want them to. There was a scientist who was beaten to death by an angry mob in the 1970s for suggesting there might he nothing more then an empty room behind the door, not even that it was likely, juet that it was possible. Science has spoken little on the door since then. And the government that has the territory of the door now does not allow any door based science to occur.

The reason why I bring all of this up, is that a few days ago the doors opened just the slightest amount. Not enough for anyone to step through, but enough to be noticeable. It's so hard to see through, but reports are starting to come in. They say that behind the door is a short hallway, and at the end of the hallway is another set of doors, of similar size and shape, waiting just as patiently to open.

[thesissywhisper]

Daddy said you were a good gurl today when you were over His place to do His housework. So He said I could reward you with a cummie. You'll enjoy they won't you cindy?

Yes, thank you Ma'am

Oh don't thank me, Daddy said your oral skills are coming along nicely. I think you should thank Him next time by offering Him your boipussy next time.

Ahh.... but...

I could always give Him the keys to your cage......

I'd be honored for Daddy to be my first.

I thought you might. Go to your room and get ready, I'll be up shortly.

[strangelittlestories]

Slate and Satin sprinted down another alleyway. The winding streets curled around them, as if the city was closing its fist to conceal the two thieves from view. They turned, put on another burst of speed, and stopped in the shadow of a dumpster, gasping.

“Is she still following us?” asked Shale between gulps of foetid air.

Satin looked behind them. No furious lawkeeper emerged. He cocked his head and listened. No pounding footsteps, just their own heavy breathing and the chitter of echo bugs as they picked over the nearby trash for residual magic.

“I think we lost her.”

“Shame,” replied Slate with a tired smile on her face, “she was cute.”

Satin shook his head.

“You’re a professional thief. How did you get a *thing* about paladins?”

“People are hotter when they’re chasing you. Especially if they can chase you wearing platemail. I don’t make the rules.”

“You want me to set you up? I could turn you in and keep your share.” Satin elbowed Slate in the ribs gently. “I hear interrogation chambers are a great place to get to know each other.”

Slate chuckled. She looked up at the walls around them, clocked a fire escape, checked the alleyway exits, then flashed a smirk back at Satin.

“Nah. It’s no good if she has help to catch me. If it’s meant to be, she’ll find her way to me on her own.”

“Or she’ll get a divine revelation from The Arbiter that drops a pin on the Law we stole.”

“Sounds like fate to me.”

The smile on Satin’s face faded, chased away by a stray thought.

“Hey … what do you think they want with this thing anyway?” Satin hefted the tablet, a corner of faded clay poking out from beneath the hessian wrapping. “What do they have to gain by pinching one of the First Laws?”

“The less we know, the better, buddy. Anyone asks what the game is, I want to be able to tell them true: I’ve got no idea.”

“I don’t get how you can’t even be curious.”

“Oh, I’m curious, but let me put it this way: I like my alibis like I like my partners.” Slate winked. “Steelclad.”

---

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[charlesoberonn]

When you were young, your mother used to read you an old fairytale every night before bed.

It was a sad story, about lovers who walked through hell to reunite with one another and almost succeeded, only to be separated again forever in the last moment. It made you cry, and the next night you would beg your mom to read it again.

"You know it'll be sad, right?"

"This time they'll win, mom! This time they'll have a happy ending!"

But they didn't. Nor did they win in the next night, or the night after that.

Deep down, logically, you knew it'll always end the same way. The story is done. It's been told long before you were born. But when mom was telling it, you could pretend that maybe this time it'll work out. This time will be different.

When you grew older you didn't stop pretending, even though you knew it was silly and getting sillier. When you learned to read and write, one of the first things you wrote was a new ending. It was bad, about you as an all-powerful angel coming down to help the lovers reunite and then you get invited to their wedding.

"It's not real, it's fanfic." a friend told you when you showed them. They explained the word, and you saw what they meant. But you didn't care, seeing the words on the page helped you pretend.

You read voraciously as you grew. All kinds of stories with all kinds of ending. But you kept coming back to that one. Reading from your mom's old copy which her read to her from.

You didn't need mom to read to you anymore, but sometimes you asked her to anyway. Occasionally she'd do it, but more often than not she was tired.

Soon she stopped reading. Then she stopped speaking altogether, her voice too weak and throat too sick to speak aloud. That's when you started reading the story to her.

It was hard at first, your tears choking you up. It was hard pretending that the story will end differently.

"The diagnoses are just estimates, probabilities." your dad said. And when he spoke, you could pretend there was a chance. But when the doctors spoke, their words felt as final and unchanging as the old words in the storybook.

Eventually, mom was no more. Your dad read something personal and touching in her funeral. Everyone thought you would, too. Everyone knew how much you loved writing since you were little.

You thought you would write too, imagined it in your mind as your mother's end drew near. You had so much to say, but the words wouldn't come out. The only words that would come to you were from the story. You tried to bat them away, but you knew you couldn't. You couldn't change this ending.

When it came your time to eulogize, you pulled out the book and without preamble started reading from the second-to-last page. This time there was no pretending.

Everyone knew the story, even the people who didn't know mom personally. Everyone knew it will end in tragedy. The lovers will not get a happy ending.

Except this time they did.

You didn't notice the change until you were halfway through the final page, so out of it you were. But the reactions from the mourning crowd clued you in. Your stoic dad choking down a chuckle.

You looked closely at the book and saw the words were written in your mom's neat handwriting.

You kept on reading, a smile on your face.

It wasn't the real ending. It was fanfic.

But just for a little while, seeing the words on the page helped you pretend a little longer.

[clockwayswrites]

@heeppo888

Impulse/phantom apples I see it as a prequel to this

Impulse zipped up to the top of Mount Justice and settled next to the unknowable mass of shadow and stars and hope. He leaned and kissed approximately where a cheek might be.

“Hey babe!”

Phantom turned to him, at once a thousand eyes and none. All seeing and blind to this realm. Startled and yet knowing.

“Oh,” Phantom said. Well, said wasn’t exactly the right word as Phantom had no mouth. It was more like the voice was inside of Bart’s very bones. (It was comforting.) “You’re him, aren’t you?”

Bart’s smile almost slipped for a moment as the realization hit. This was a Phantom who didn’t know him yet. Of course it was, this was the past. Bart knew it had to happen sometime because there as a point where Bart had been the one who didn’t know Phantom but… but it was different being the one who knew.

And then the other shoe dropped. Bart knew. He got to watch Phantom experience everything for the first time for the first time! Oh, crash! This was going to be an adventure! Bart’s smile turned into a grin.

“Yeah! Hey, I’m Impulse, or Bart. It’s nice to meet you again.”

[plushipaws]

“Dragon, I am not sure that I am a prince.”

“Of course not, you are my beloved pet.” “No, I mean… gender-wise.”

“Oh. Are you a princess?”

“No, I don’t think so.” “Alright, dear. Then, what are you?” “I think- well I’m not sure I am allowed.”

“You can be anything you want to be, my darling.”

“Well- and please don’t laugh- I think I’d like to be a dragon. … Like you.”

The dragon purred and wrapped its long neck around the smaller being and nuzzled its nose on their head. “Then a dragon you are, my love.”

“But I’m worried I’m not qualified to be a dragon. I don’t have scales or wings.”

“Dragons come in all sorts of kinds. Many are scaleless or wingless.”

“And I’m rather small and weak for a dragon…” They sighed. “I mean, I am already fairly small and weak for a human.”

The dragon studied the being who was now a smaller dragon for a long time before speaking rather gently. “I am rather small and weak for a dragon too you know… It is something I never told you, and you couldn’t know because you have none other to compare me to.” “What? But you’re so big and strong! You fly ten miles a day to hunt for us and you defend me from nosey knights who try to ‘rescue’ me!”

The dragon nodded. “Yes, but other dragons can fly for a thousand miles a day and hunt for an army, and they could fight off an army too. After fighting a single knight I become quite tired… This is why I live alone in this cave, away from other dragons. They harass me for my weakness, and try to push me to do more… they say what I am is not enough.” With this, the dragon lowered it’s head, seeming to feel ashamed. 

The smaller, human shaped dragon kissed the larger one on the snout. “Well, you are certainly enough for me. You might not be able to fight or feed an army, but your hunts keep us both full and your claws keep us both safe. And I always look forward to curling up under your wings at the end of the day. You don’t have to be alone anymore.” They frowned, their brow furrowing. “It makes me angry how you were treated.”

“It makes me angry how you were treated! That is what drew me to rescue you. I could see your society was treating you the same as mine was… Pushing you to do too much when you were tired, not appreciating you for who you are… but I appreciate you. You always know how to make me laugh, and all your little faces are so cute. I always look forward to feeling you press against my sides at the end of the day.” It nuzzled them. “You are dragon enough for me, better than any other dragon I have met. You are enough.”

The smaller dragon nodded. “We are our own sort of dragons. And that is enough.”

[the-modern-typewriter]

"Has anyone ever told you that your evil lair is like really inaccessible?" The protagonist asked, looking around them. "What are you going to do if I break your leg? Float? And dont get me started on the font choice for this list of demands... " They clicked their tongue. "I know you're going for menacing, but DUDE. Basic inclusive design."

The villain gawped at them.

[laurasimonsdaughter]

The dragon – astonishingly – was a surprise. Even in his worst nightmares there hadn’t been a dragon. But the chains were too well fastened to fight and he supposed that getting eaten was at least quicker than starving to death on this damn mountain. He closed his eyes, but the thundering shake of the ground as the dragon landed was as bad as having seen the claws dig into the earth. He closed his eyes tighter.

“Are you the seventh son of the seventh son?” The voice was inhumanly low and it shook the fear in his bones loose.

“Yes!” he screamed. “Yes! Cursed, blighted, whatever you bloody want! Just get it over with.”

There was a short, tense silence.

“I have not come to kill you, human. I want to offer you a deal.”

His eyes opened in shock. “You what?”

The dragon was sitting a few paces away from him, its scaly claws crossed over one another and its massive, shimmering wings folded behind its hulking back. The look in its glittering eyes was intelligent and calculating, but not unkind, certainly not threatening. It waited.

“What—what kind of deal?” he stammered, heart racing with a wild, terrified hope.

“I understand that you have been left here to die by your fellow humans, because you are an extremely rare type of human, that they are afraid of. Is that correct?”

He studied the dragon’s interested expression for any trace of sarcasm, but there was none. “That’s one way of putting it.”

“Well then!” the dragon exclaimed. “I propose to you this: I will break your chains and save you from the humans, and in return you will join my hoard and live in my nest.”

“I’m sorry. Join your—what do you mean live in a nest. Humans don’t live in nests.”

The dragon gave a sideways movement of its massive head, scales glinting in the sun. “There is plenty of room. It used to be a cavern in a mountain, of very respectable depth and dimensions, but during one of my hibernation some humans built a castle on top of it, so it is very suitable for humans.”

He was almost baffled enough to no longer be scared. Almost. “What happened to the people who built it?”

The dragon, somehow, managed to arch a nonexistent eyebrow. “They live there,” it replied, slowly, as if it feared that he was rather slower on the uptake than expected. “That was the start of my hoard, you see.”

He hadn’t misheard it. It did say ‘hoard’. “But...dragons hoard gold, jewels, riches…”

“Uninspired amateurs,” the dragon sniffed. “All very well for one’s hatchling years, but honestly.” The glittering eyes squinted down at him. “Do you not want to join my hoard?”

“I…” Living in a castle with a dragon for a protector sure beat being chained to a rock by feral townsfolk, there was no doubt about that. And what other choice did he have? He swallowed. “I do.”

“Wonderful!” Joyful sparks snapped off the dragon’s jaw as it gracefully leapt upright. “I shall do away with those pesky chains.” And he came towards him with remarkably light steps.

“Do you live very far away?” he blurted out, nervously watching the dragon as it studied the iron rings hammered into the stone. “Will I be able to—I cannot just leave my brothers behind!”

The dragon, who had just crushed one end of the chain to warped bits of broken iron in its claw, looked up distractedly. “Whatever are you talking about? All your brothers are at my nest already. Who do you think told me where to find you?”

His heart leapt in his chest. He didn’t even notice the heavy weight of the chains fall away as they slid to the ground. “You...you’d want to keep my brothers too?”

The dragon made an indignant noise, bowing down low and motioning rather impatiently for him to climb on its back. “What kind of dragon do you take me for! I must have the whole set.”

[scealaiscoite]

⋆˚࿔ seven word prompts for seven sentence fics 𝜗𝜚˚⋆

¹⁾ “really? i never knew that about you.”

²⁾ “come on, don’t pretend for my sake.”

³⁾ “looks like they left in a hurry.”

⁴⁾ “who’s calling you this late at night?”

⁵⁾ “seriously, were you dropped as a baby?!”

⁶⁾ “i could eat a horse.” “please don’t.”

⁷⁾ “ice cream? at three in the morning?”

⁸⁾ “get your ass here, right fucking now!”

⁹⁾ “i really did care about you, y’know.”

¹⁰⁾ “you’re not going home, you need stitches!”

¹¹⁾ “we need to get you warm, fast.”

¹²⁾ “how long have we been driving for?”

¹³⁾ “[name]- “ “don’t start. [boss]’s already deafened me.”¹⁾

¹⁴⁾ “what’s a single bed between three friends?”

¹⁵⁾ “why are you in just a towel?!”

¹⁶⁾ “i’m your bodyguard, not your damn friend.”

¹⁷⁾ “swallow your pride.” “i’d rather swallow concrete.”

¹⁸⁾ “you look really good in my money.”

¹⁹⁾ “i said i’d help. didn’t say how.”

²⁰⁾ “come, sit. i made you some dinner.”

²¹⁾ “hide! they’re coming your way, and fast!”

²²⁾ “i knew you had feelings for them.”

²³⁾ “you’re exhausted, pet. let me mind you.”

²⁴⁾ “[name]’s in the hospital. it’s not good.”

²⁵⁾ “but you promised it’d all be okay!”

²⁶⁾ “their cover’s been blown- get them out!”

²⁷⁾ “who’d buying you flowers that isn’t me?”

²⁸⁾ “i was stupid enough to believe you.”

²⁹⁾ “isn’t paying for dinner a date thing?”

³⁰⁾ “for you, i’d do anything.” “i know.”

[thesylverlining]

Instead of "you came back wrong", I came back wrong and no one will tell me why.

No one will even tell me I'm wrong, I just feel it in the way their voices are so cheerful and strained, how they look at me and smile too hard, until it looks like it hurts their faces, like they're smiling to keep from screaming.

I came back wrong and I know you gave up so much for me, things I'm terrified to even ask, things you'd cry to tell, but you won't, you'll never even tell me you failed.

Everything is exactly the way I remember it, everyone, even you, except now you've spent too long and awkward a time in a room with a stranger and can't think of a polite way to leave (or ask them to)

I wish you would just tell me the truth, or listen when I say I KNOW I came back wrong, instead of changing the subject or insisting it's fine, everything's fine, it's so much better with me here, your dreams come true. But that would be admitting it was for nothing.

So we both sit here. Until one of us cracks. If there's mercy, it'll be at the same time.

It's not you, it's me.

[microsff]

The patron

The alien came to the library again, shortly before closing time, and quickly found a book.

"May this entity borrow The Complete History of Knitting?"

They always return the book they borrow after five minutes, but the ritual of checking it out seems important to them. 

"Of course. Did you bring your card?"

I looked them up, after the first time I saw them for real. They first registered with us over ninety years ago. The senior librarian who first told me about them said I shouldn't stare, or pry.

"Whatever else they are, they are a patron, and should be treated as such," she said. "If they seek knowledge, it is our duty to help them find it."

There isn't an ancient and secret code of librarians, but that is definitely a core part of it. If such a code existed.

I scan the card and the book. "There you go," I say and hand them over. "Please return it within two weeks."

They tilt their head. "This entity will honour your terms."

"Oh! That reminds me, we have updated the terms since your last visit." I hand them the pamphlet we got from the printers last week. "It's mostly about internet usage, but I'll need you to read them and agree."

They study the pamphlet.

"These are terms this entity can abide by." They pause. "Is there no requirement to keep your existence secret?"

"Of course not," I say, "we always welcome new patrons."

They stand silent, long enough for me to realise the implications of what I have just said. 

"This entity had made an assumption, based on prior experiences on countless worlds, where knowledge is always closely guarded and costly to obtain" they say at last. "You will provide knowledge for free to all who seek it?"

In my mind, I weigh humanity's ignorance of those countless worlds of alien civilisations against the code.

"Yes," I say, "this is a library."

[gothamite-rambler]

When caught in a hostage situation by wannabe twitch streamers and can't be Batman

Bruce Wayne attended the gala alone; nobody wanted to go with him, and now he found himself with a gun aimed at his head. It was just another Tuesday in Bruce's life. He knew there was nothing he could do except kneel on the ground and wait for his kids to rescue him.

Bruce (in his head): I should've stayed home; then I could've saved the day. But no, I had to show up! Damn it, the things I do to keep my identity separate from my hero life.

Bruce (out loud): Can you hurry this up? Some of us have places to be.

Lennie, the goon leader, wore a white, expressionless face mask that only added to the absurdity of the situation. He sucked his teeth, visibly annoyed at Bruce's indifference to having a gun pointed at his head. It was as if he were trying to put on a show of intimidation, but the lack of reaction from his hostage only served to frustrate him further.

Lennie: We’re almost done setting up the livestream, geez!

Bruce (sarcastically): Oh yes, let’s make sure the whole world sees a bunch of no-name thugs holding a fancy party hostage. That’s smart. Truly brilliant. You're a real trailblazer.

Lennie: Yeesh, you don’t gotta be rude.

Bruce (dryly): Am I being rude? I’m just trying to maintain my composure here while you’re aiming a gun at my head. A little nervousness is understandable, don’t you think?

As if to prove his point, Lennie raised the gun away from Bruce’s head in a moment of misplaced confidence.

Lennie: Please, I’m an expert shooter—

Just then, Lennie's finger slipped, and the gun went off, shooting across the room and hitting a statue, which promptly shattered—sending shards flying and making a woman at the party scream in terror.

Lennie (shouting): I told you to stop screaming!

Bruce glared at the man for a second, then turned back to staring ahead, internally counting the seconds ticking by like they were days as he waited for literally any of his children or even Kate to arrive to save him.

Lennie: All right, I’ll just hold the gun at my side and grip the back of your neck. Don’t do anything stupid; the gun is still loaded.

Bruce (indifferent): You’ve shot it twice already, so that doesn’t bode well for your "expert shooter" credentials. But hey, start the stream for your three followers to enjoy.

Lennie (enraged): Hey! We are on the come-up! Oz, is everything ready to go?

Oz, a blonde man in a blue bandana with eye slits cut into the fabric, checked the wireless conference cam that sat on a nearby chair and glanced at his phone.

Oz (hesitantly): Um, yeah, I think?

Lennie: Cool, start it.

Oz: It’s already running.

Lennie: What? For how long?

Oz (pointing at Bruce): Well, since he mentioned we were using Twitch for our heist.

Lennie: God damn it! I told you to wait for my signal before hitting the stream button!

Oz: I thought you’d be more professional when I started the feed. What did you want the signal to be, “Cool, start it”?

Lennie: …

An old man at the gala couldn’t help but chuckle as he realized that was the signal.

Old Man: Good thing you’ve got guns, because your performance so far is downright terrible!

Bruce (aggravated tone): You must’ve failed clown college, didn’t you? This is your backup plan? Want to look like a joke in a different way?

Lennie: Shut up! Fuck, you’re just like my parents! Lucy!

Lucy strolled over, holding a similar gun and wearing a light purple ski mask.

Lucy: Yes, babe?

Lennie: Lucy, I told you not to call me that during this!

Lucy: Sorry, baby! I mean Kenny—oops, sorry, Lennie.

Lennie groaned, burying his face in his hands.

Lennie (whispering to his girlfriend): Just stand next to the rich guy while I read the ransom. You’re better with guns.

Lucy (cheerfully): Okay!

Lucy walked over to Bruce, lightly gripping the back of his collar while aiming the gun at his upper shoulder.

Lucy: Hi, Mr. Wayne!

Bruce: Don’t chat with me right now. Why are you aiming the gun at my shoulder?

Lucy: Gotta start lower and work my way up, you know?

Bruce: That actually makes sense in a messed-up way.

Lucy: Thanks! Lennie, you starting soon?

Lennie (covering his eyes in frustration): I need a fucking minute… Okay, Oz, get the stream going!

Oz (confused): Again?

Lennie: What do you mean "again"?

Oz: The one I started two minutes ago is still streaming. We’ve got viewers too! Do you want me to end that? Why? You’re already wasting time.

Lennie clasped his hands together, feeling the pressure as his plan began to crumble, and Bruce—ever the thorn in his side—wasn’t letting up.

Bruce: You’re doing a terrible job if you wanted an audience’s opinion.

Lennie (angry shouting): I’d shoot you right now if I could! I have to talk to the actual audience because if I have to talk to that smug asshole one more time, I’m going to beat your ass.

Bruce: That’s rich, coming from you.

Lennie growled, huffing as he tried to rein in his temper. He turned to the camera, his irritation palpable, and prepared to begin the ransom speech he had memorized.

Lennie (clears throat): Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to the most glamorous hostage situation of the decade! If you think this is a PR disaster, you're absolutely correct!

Bruce (with a sarcastic edge): Wow, did you actually memorize that?

Lennie held up his index finger, then pulled a white bandana out of his pocket and stormed over to Bruce, tying the scarf across the man's mouth to silence him. Bruce rolled his eyes dramatically as Lennie turned back to the camera, as if he were the star of a reality show gone wrong.

As the wannabe streamer continued his speech, Stephanie, Tim, and Duke were perched atop a nearby building, close to the glass rooftop where the gala was taking place. They waited for the signal from Nightwing, who was in a different location, to ambush the kidnappers—but for now, they were watching the stream. Their reactions varied widely.

Tim let out a long, frustrated sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

Tim: Yep, yep.

Stephanie was practically doubled over with laughter.

Stephanie: I can’t believe the guy in the white mask wasted two bullets! What a dumb ox with some serious daddy issues!

Duke, sporting a worried expression, chimed in.

Duke: I don’t know what scares me more—his incompetence accidentally getting Bruce shot or the fact that this stream has a concerningly high number of viewers!

Stephanie nodded, still chuckling.

Stephanie: Right? It’s like a bizarre comedy show!

Tim: I definitely recognize the ring leader by his grating voice. We took social psychology together at CUNY. Well, we took that one class before he dropped out to pursue... whatever this nonsense is. This missing chromosome was a jerk back then and hasn't changed.

Duke (raising his left eyebrow): He has a YouTube channel where he harasses people but calls it "pranks"?

Tim: No, it’s a TikTok page!

Stephanie burst out laughing harder, shaking her head in disbelief.

Stephanie: This is too good!

Tim: This is going to be an interesting mission.

[whereserpentswalk]

Humans sometimes wonder what separates them from other races like elves and dwarves and orcs, like what makes them unique. Some people say humans are generalists, some people say we're the most adaptable. But actually there is something that stands out about us that all the other races find super weird. Humans are the only sentient creature to reproduce sexually like animals do, and because of that we're the only species with romantic or sexual attraction, and ideas like sex and gender.

Elves and dwarves create new members of their races slowly and methodically, like works of art. Harpies, angels, demons and dragons are all individually and personally created by their gods. Orcs and goblins are spawned from spawning pits on mass. Merfolk come close with how they lay and fertilize eggs, but even then any individual merfolk can both lay eggs and fertilize, and they don't meet when they do it. Vampires and other undead are spawned from other races. Fae just sort of show up.

So the idea of having sexes, and genders constructed around them, and sexual and romantic relationships is all incredibly weird for other races. Most humans don't notice it because they just naturally assign members of other races genders when they meet them.

Diffrent races have diffrent ideas around these constructs. But most of them find it some level of confusing. A lot of them just ignore it. But it's really disturbing for some, romantic relationships seem like weird bonds that can't be explained, like some sort of unexplainable and volatile connection. Sexual attraction seems like some dark animalistic instinct. Gender is incomprehensible, and also seems wrong and immoral to most races. And sex itself seem like the darkest of any reproductive ritual or magic. Because of all of this humans who don't experience some or any of these things often have an easier time connecting with other races.

This has also lead scholars to belive that humans are the only sentient race to evolve naturally. Something often thought impossible before studies on humans occurred.