#flash fiction

[aniseandspearmint]

Humans getting to live their Borrower AU dreams

Humans entering space and realizing we are so small. We are mice compared to these giant races with their advanced machinery and technologies and experiences beyond us- except that we're humans. And our engineers dive into the new tech and once we learn the principles we also soon realize how Inefficient everything is. Their "microchips" are the size of cars, their storage drives are basically buildings, and they somehow store less data than ours. So, human companies take advantage, and tech starts rolling out. Massive and there's a lot of wasted space so that it can be managed with larger hands/pincers/claws/tentacles, but also so much more efficient than anything the galaxy has seen before.

Human technicians start hopping ships and upkeeping the general maintenance, the stuff that most aliens put off or don't notice because they never access the crevices of their ships. As human companies become more popular and lead the tech world in everything from warp cores to game stations ("it's so compact! How are the graphics so good?" Says a 60' tall grimbleback, holding a new VR headset that has all of its components included because it's so BIG by our tech standards), soon many things have accessibility ports for humans to be able to use as well. This means that these shiprats hoping ship to ship cause such a huge improvement in everything running smoothly, and there's a huge downtick in pests on ships because those "pests" are not only big enough and aggressive enough to bite a pitbull or a person in half, they're invasive to so many planets and humans hate nothing more than dog killing planet overrunning monsters.

All the while, from the Aliens perspective, humans are an elusive race that don't fraternize much with them. You almost never see a human as most places aren't exactly safe for the little things to run around in. They do export so much stuff though, and the custodial staff at the Central Galactic Outpost insists that there's more humans around than any other race if you just know where to look.

And sure it's somewhat known that some of the little daredevils hop ships and help out in exchange for room and board, usually without permission, but that can't be that common, can it?

Maybe your ship is running better this cycle ever since you stopped at the last station, that just means that tuneup was better than you thought. And maybe for some reason that program you were working on last night is finished when you wake up, but you're so tired maybe you finished it before you passed out. Somehow that faulty light in the galley has fixed itself as well, which is odd, but maybe the Engineer finally got to it. You'd know if there was someone else on your ship.

Right?

... You leave a little bowl of berries out as a thank you, just in case. You're not sure what humans like but you've heard they have a sweet tooth.

[microsff]

"You've never called me before," Captain Clever said.

"I've never seen such evil before," Dr. Dastard replied. "Crusher plots to take over the world."

"People will resist."

"Crusher is spreading stories showing people as inherently evil."

"To crush everyone's hope..."

"Exactly!"

[gothamite-rambler]

Stephanie: I hate my dad.

Jason: I said "Hey." And you responded with that.

Stephanie shrugged, crossing her arms.

Stephanie: Screw him, he sucks.

Jason shrugged, deciding to continue the conversation.

Jason: I'll bite, what's one issue you have with him?

Stephanie: That man went from game show host to criminal. I could've had Alex Trebek, but I got the game show version of the Riddler! Like how was I dealt such a bad hand in life?!

Jason (lighting a marijuana rolled joint): Stephanie, I don't want to downplay your issues, but your mom isn't a criminal or insane, she's Catholic, but like the less annoying ones. You work for Batman, he pays you monthly to risk your life which you enjoy and you became a Robin and then Spoiler to spite your dad... Also you're a blonde white girl. That last part is privileged based.

Stephanie (stumped): I... Okay, but my boyfriend dumped me!

Jason: You're friends with him now!

Stephanie: It still stings! I like Bernard too, but like... We could be a throuple!

Jason chuckled dryly taking a long drag from his joint.

Jason: Let's ask him, Tim?

Tim had been sitting in a lounge chair minding his own business and drinking coffee.

Tim: I told you it's not you, it's me and I meant it.

Stephanie: And I told you, you were one of the few boyfriends who didn't take something important from me!

Jason (chuckling): Like the one who stole your car keys and crashed the car into a Starbucks?

Stephanie: Don't remind me. That's not even how you protest a company! And why do they usually steal my car?!

Stephanie's shoulders slumped as she groaned. Jason rolled his eyes while patting Stephanie's shoulder in a half-supporting manner.

[whereserpentswalk]

There's a girl in your freind group who just appeared one day. Like literally. There was one day when she appeared and everybody else acted like she had always been there. Only you didn't remember that she had existed, or more accurately only you remembered that she hadn't existed the day before.

She acted normal. So very freindly. But there was something off about her. She seemed too hand crafted, her skin too pale, her hair too blond, her eyes too blue and face too pretty. She looked more like a doll then like a real person. And it was clear after asking the right probing questions that she had no hometown, no family, no ethnic group, that she just was. You were good at asking that type of question, to prove she wasn't human.

You're the only person in that freind group who knows about the supernatural. Like, you don't deal with it on a professional basis or anything, you know a few people who are more involved in it, and you've gotten the chance to see a handful of anomalies and entities and like one eldritch being. You even time traveled once. None of it was a big deal, but you thought they were cool, and it's good to know they exist. The reason it's important is because you know knowing about that stuff effects how you perceive certain things, especially when it comes to recognizing illusions and paradoxes.

You studied her for awhile. Did what you could to check her every little action, wonder if certain small things she did were what a human would do. Question her without letting on how much you know. You've studied the way she eats, the abnormalities in her dialect. The strangeness to how she got her documents. You stole a bit of hair to send to a lab and they confirmed her nonhuman. You're pretty sure from studying the way that her clothing moves on her body that she doesn't have nipples or private parts or a bellybutton, you know it's weird to speculate about that sort of thing with someone but a body like hers is different. Still, you never got full proof, never figured out what she really was, never got to show that she wasn't a real woman and expose the inhuman creature underneath.

As time went on, and you investigated her further and further you stopped being able to see her as a monster. It's clear that even if she's not human, she probably doesn't know what she is either. And more then that she seems like a nice person, all that time you spent with her trying to figure out what type of anomaly she is, you ended up actually getting to know her and she seems like a genuinely nice human being. When she told you she liked a new song and wanted to play it for you that probably was just her liking a song. When she developed a hyperfixation on birds and started being able to name local species at a glance that might have just been a legitimate interest. When she had a crush on a girl in your freind group that was actually just a crush, and not her looking to prey on someone in an alien way. You watched a TV show with her early on to try to figure her out, that might have been the first show she ever watched.

At this point you don't really think about her inhumanity when interacting with her. She's been in the group for awhile, everyone has far more real memories of her then false memories at this point. Trying to expose her for what she really is would just be mean at this point. The paradoxical nature of her existence isn't the main thing you know about her now.

You did have to come clean that you knew something was up. You didn't tell her how much you knew, or why, you just dropped the right hints and she caught on. She became so upset, so guilty, she was worried you would tell everyone else, or that you would hurt her. A few months back you would have, but not anymore. You hugged her, didn't ask any questions about what she was, and did your best to comfort her. Though her existence may have been fake, her hugs were real, those tears were real, and that was enough.

[infosphere]

The Silent Guardian - A Bat man story

Gotham City was eerily quiet, an unsettling hush that seemed to wrap around its darkened streets. In the heart of the city, atop Wayne Tower, Bruce Wayne stood, contemplating the latest threat to his beloved Gotham. It was not the typical villain causing mayhem but something far more elusive: an unknown entity referred to only as "The Whisperer."

Reports of criminals disappearing without a trace had started circulating. The city's underworld was abuzz with rumors about a silent guardian who moved like a shadow, leaving nothing but whispers in their wake. Determined to uncover the truth, Batman set out to investigate this new player in Gotham's dangerous game.

One night, as Batman patrolled the city's rooftops, he felt a presence trailing him. It was subtle, almost imperceptible, but he knew he wasn't alone. Using his detective skills, he set a trap, luring the elusive figure into the open. To his surprise, it was a woman dressed in a sleek, all-black suit, her face obscured by a mask.

"You've been following me," Batman said, his voice calm yet commanding.

"I am The Whisperer," she replied, her voice barely audible. "I've come to help Gotham."

Skeptical but intrigued, Batman listened as she explained her mission. She had no grand vendetta or tragic backstory; she was simply someone who had lost too many loved ones to crime. The Whisperer had trained in silence and shadows, using her skills to incapacitate criminals and leave them for the authorities without a trace.

Intrigued by her methods and motivated by a shared goal, Batman proposed they work together. Their partnership was tenuous at first, but they quickly realized their combined strengths made them an unstoppable force against the city's criminals.

One night, they received word that the Scarecrow had returned, unleashing his fear toxin on unsuspecting citizens. Batman and The Whisperer split up to cover more ground, each tackling different parts of Scarecrow's operation. As Batman confronted the Scarecrow, he found himself ensnared in a hallucinogenic nightmare, the fear toxin warping his senses.

Struggling to maintain control, Batman fought through the visions of his darkest fears. Just as he began to falter, The Whisperer appeared, her presence a calming influence. She spoke softly, guiding him through the nightmare with her unwavering voice.

"Remember who you are, Bruce," she whispered. "You're stronger than your fears."

With her support, Batman overcame the toxin's effects and together, they apprehended the Scarecrow, dismantling his operation and saving countless lives. As they stood victorious, a mutual respect and trust had formed between them.

"The Whisperer," Batman said, "Gotham needs you. We need you."

She nodded, her eyes reflecting the determination they both shared. "I'll be there, in the shadows, watching over Gotham."

As dawn broke over the city, Batman knew he had found not just an ally but a kindred spirit. Together, they would continue to protect Gotham from the darkness that lurked in its streets, their partnership a testament to the silent guardians who watch over the city.

By InfoSphere

[strangelittlestories]

After the occupation, the princess was confined to the palace.

Once a month she'd be taken on a walk around the city, heavily guarded of course, to show the people that she still lived. It also served, of course, as a reminder of what they stood to lose if they made trouble. The princess did her best go wave and smile and give the people what encouragement she could.

The rest of the time, her life was spent in musty rooms and dusty towers. She filled most of her time scouring the castle for materials which she would sew into more and more elaborate outfits, which she would show off on the days when she was allowed outside.

Indeed, the public loved their princess and her dresses so much they'd often sketch or paint them along the route and pass the images on so that all could see the princess at least was well.

This pleased the occupiers for two reasons. First: it kept the princess out of trouble. Second: it gave them a reason to sneer and they did love a good sneer.

"What a vain creature she is!" They would remark.

"Doesn't even care we murdered her brothers so long as she gets enough satin to make her little dresses!" They squawked.

This was unfair, of course, for to call her creations "little dresses" was to call Queen Murderfun the Needlessly Genocidal "a tad piquey". Her dresses were gravity-defying wonders lace and pearl. They were thunderstorms captured in velvet and waterfalls summoned in silk. She was a wizard with silk.

Still, she bore their mockery with a tight smile and careful deference.

"Please, good sirs, my home, my people and my city now belong to you. Let me keep, at least, this one last joy."

And they sneered and they crowed most unpleasantly, but they let her keep her sewing room.

Of course, they would have known their mockery to be doubly unfair had they realised the true purpose of the princess's elaborate designs. For hidden in the intricate embroiderings across her gowns, jackets and fans, the princess had encoded secret (and very detailed) messages. When she would go on her monthly walk, the city's loyalists would line the route, sketching down the patterns to decode later.

Thus did the princess transmit all the occupiers' secrets (unearthed while supposedly 'searching the castle for old fabrics') to the city and thus did she build her resistance.

On the day the revolution finally came, she girded herself in armour of thick spider silk and whale bone. She cut a fine figure with a lacy handkerchief in her top pocket and a razor sharp knitting needle keeping her hair up.

As she waltzed through the castle to open the door for her army, the Usurper King tried to stop her and she simply unfolded her handkerchief and showed it to him.

Upon seeing the impossible arcane pattern emblazoned across it, he fell to the floor with blood streaming from his eyes.

She always had been a wizard with silk.

---

Thank you for reading. If you'd like to support my writing, you can do so at https://ko-fi.com/strangelittlestories

[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.”

[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]

Walking in on your ex-boyfriend and friend during sexy times

Stephanie knocked on the front door of Dick's apartment, excited for pizza and movie night. She jumped when Tim opened the door.

Stephanie (stammering): Hey, man! I forgot you’d be here—of course you’re here, and thank goodness you're clothed! You’re always dressed when we talk, right? Right! Just passing by!

With her pointer finger raised, Stephanie confidently pushed past a bewildered Tim. Dick and Barbara observed the entire exchange, feigning interest in setting up for movie night. Meanwhile, Duke and Cass sat together on the couch, Duke holding a bowl of popcorn, his curiosity piqued as he noticed the tension beginning to build.

Stephanie (nervously avoiding Tim’s gaze): D- Richard! Barbara! Hi, everyone! It’s so great to be here with all of you! Duke, Cass, you’re here too! Look at us, all in one room and fully clothed!

Taking a seat in the lounge chair, Stephanie sat as far away from Tim as possible, still stubbornly avoiding eye contact with the embarrassed young man.

Cass (about to state the obvious): Um—

Duke (interrupting with a grin): Nah, let it play out.

Dick (confused by Stephanie's antics): Why did she call me Richard?

Barbara: It’s your name, but I think it’s linked to our blushing Robin over there.

Tim, silent as he returned to the couch, let out a moan of embarrassment that made Stephanie cringe.

Stephanie (shaking her head): If you could kindly refrain from making any moaning sounds in my vicinity from now on, that’d be great.

Tim: Stephanie, we need to talk about what happened last night.

Stephanie (nervous smile): Nope! Don’t want to think about it. My mind is actively blocking out what I saw!

Tim (exasperated): But you’ve seen me—

Stephanie (shouting): Not like that!

Barbara chuckled as she rolled into the living room with a bowl of popcorn, shooting Stephanie a knowing smile.

Barbara: Believe me, I’ve been there too.

Stephanie: No, you haven’t, because we’re not discussing it!

Tim: Not my fault you can't send someone a text first.

Huffing and crossing her arms, Stephanie finally broke her silence.

Stephanie: We're doing this? Cool. Next time, lock your bedroom door when you’re being intimate with your boyfriend!

Tim’s eyes went wide, and he covered his mouth as his face turned crimson. Dick gasped and dropped the bowl of popcorn.

Dick (shocked): Wait, you walked in on him having sex with Bernard?

Duke (clapping his hands, delighted): Bingo! There we go! I love it!

Barbara: So, are you going to clean that up, Richard?

With a groan, Dick trudged back to the kitchen for a broom and dustpan. Meanwhile, Stephanie glared at Tim, arms still crossed.

Stephanie: Well, now everyone knows! That’s what you get for being late to patrol!

Tim’s left eye twitched as he sprang to his feet and tossed a sofa pillow at Stephanie. It smacked her right in the face, causing her to growl in frustration.

Tim (defensively): It’s my apartment! You could’ve called or texted me that you were going to pick the lock and barge in!

Stephanie: I did! How was I supposed to know your phone was on silent and you’d be deep in kama sutra moves?!

Duke munched on the popcorn, reveling in the spectacle as if he were watching an episode of Maury. Cass quietly observed the exchange, equally entertained but doing her best to conceal her amusement.

Tim: You can’t shift the blame onto me! I told you I might be late; you could’ve handled the mission by yourself—it’s just the Penguin!

Stephanie: You were fifty minutes late, and it wasn’t only the Penguin! You should’ve answered your phone! Instead of playing sexy jazz that was loud enough to not hear a knock or door turn or DOOR OPENING! My virgin eyes didn’t need to see that! WHO HAS SEX WITH THE LIGHTS ON!

Tim: Oh, please! We’ve had sex before, and the lights being on with Bernard means I love sex with him because... I’m not going to lie you're not as good as Bernard!

Duke: Oooh, you gonna take that Stephanie?

Stephanie’s face flushed a deep red as she stood up, letting out a curse word she typically avoided. But in this moment, her anger boiled over.

Stephanie: Bitch! My sex was amazing! I was a goddess in the bedroom, and just to be clear, I’m not throwing shade at whatever magical moment you two were having! But you were the one who was inexperienced! Seriously, how were you struggling to find the G-spot so many times?!

Duke (instigating): Tim, you going to take that? Couldn't be me.

Cass sighed amused.

Stephanie (con't): Seriously, I did NOT need that mental picture! So when you hear a knock at your bedroom door, how about a little heads-up? Just a friendly reminder that you being in a “compromising situation” is best communicated loud and clear!

Barbara nodded knowingly as Dick scooped up the popcorn.

Dick: If you say anything, I’m dumping this popcorn on your head.

Barbara: I’m definitely thinking it, don’t worry.

Rolling his eyes, Dick returned to the kitchen.

Tim: You weren’t exactly sending smoke signals over there! I was new, you were new—basically, we were both on the same “What the heck is happening?” train! Bernard and I shouldn’t be the subjects of a courtroom drama just because you didn’t push that door open a crack and say, “Hey, we really need to wrap this up!” You didn’t have to come flying in like Kramer on a caffeine high!

Stephanie paced around the living room trying to not curse again as Tim sat back down, grumbling under his breath.

Cass: Just to chime in, I assumed she walked in on you naked or something—she told me about it, but I didn’t expect the… full details.

Tim knocked the popcorn out of chuckling Duke’s hand, but the man only laughed at the new information.

Tim (angry): You told Cass?!

Stephanie: I only said I walked in while you were unclothed! And you screamed at innocent me when it's not that ha- difficult to let it be known when you're fricking your boyfriend! Seriously, what is it with you and D- Richard and not locking doors?!

Duke laughed, picking up the popcorn scattered on his lap, while Cass shook her head with a smile. Barbara and Dick munched on the popcorn from their bowl, thoroughly entertained by the bickering former couple turned friends.

Barbara: It’s odd seeing this from an outside perspective.

Dick (grinning while eating popcorn): I know, right? We don't even need to watch a movie.

[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.

[infosphere]

Gotham's Darkest Hour - A Batman story

Gotham City lay shrouded in an ominous mist, its towering skyscrapers casting long, shadowy figures on the streets below. The moon hung heavy in the sky, its pale light a stark contrast to the inky darkness that permeated every corner of the city. This was a night when the criminals of Gotham felt emboldened, driven by the belief that the shadows would hide their sins.

In the heart of this labyrinthine city, Bruce Wayne stood before the Batcomputer, the blue glow of its screens illuminating his determined face. Alarms blared throughout the Batcave as news feeds displayed scenes of chaos—riots in the streets, a string of bank robberies, and a sinister message from the Joker, who had once again escaped from Arkham Asylum.

"Tonight, Gotham falls," the Joker's maniacal voice echoed through the speakers. "And Batman, there's nothing you can do to stop it!"

Bruce clenched his fists, his jaw set in steely resolve. "Alfred, ready the Batmobile. It's time to show Gotham that hope still exists."

Moments later, the Batmobile roared to life, tearing through the streets of Gotham with the precision and ferocity of a predator. Batman's first target: a bank where the Joker's henchmen were busy emptying vaults. As the Batmobile screeched to a halt, the criminals turned, their faces twisted in fear as the Dark Knight emerged from the shadows.

A flurry of punches and kicks ensued, each movement a symphony of skill and power. Batman subdued the henchmen with ease, leaving them bound for the police to collect. He then made his way to the central square, where the rioters had gathered, inciting chaos and destruction.

"ENOUGH!" Batman's voice boomed over the cacophony, silencing the mob. His presence commanded respect, fear, and an unspoken promise of justice. As he worked to disperse the rioters, he noticed a pattern in their movements, leading him to a hidden lair beneath the city.

Descending into the darkness, Batman found himself in a labyrinth of tunnels and traps, each more deadly than the last. But with unwavering resolve, he navigated the maze, his mind as sharp as his batarangs. Finally, he arrived at a dimly lit chamber, where the Joker awaited him, seated on a throne of explosives.

"Welcome, Bats!" the Joker cackled, his eyes gleaming with madness. "You've walked right into my trap!"

Batman stepped forward, unafraid. "This ends tonight, Joker. No more games."

With a flick of his wrist, the Joker ignited the detonator, but Batman was faster. He hurled a batarang, severing the wires and rendering the device useless. Enraged, the Joker lunged at Batman, and the two engaged in a brutal battle of wits and fists.

The chamber echoed with the sounds of their struggle, a clash of light and darkness, sanity and madness. But Batman's determination was unyielding. With a final, powerful blow, he knocked the Joker to the ground, standing over him with an air of finality.

"You're going back to Arkham," Batman declared, his voice unwavering. "And this time, you'll stay there."

As dawn broke over Gotham City, the Bat-signal shone brightly in the sky, a beacon of hope for the weary citizens. Batman stood atop a skyscraper, watching as the city slowly returned to normalcy. He knew the fight was far from over, but in this moment, he had won a crucial battle.

"By InfoSphere. Follow for more stories."