Category Archives: Potpourri

In a certain city at a certain time, people started developing superpowers. Here are their stories.

Short Story: Allergic Reaction

Genre: fantasy


Ever since he was born, he had been allergic to three things.

Peanuts, dogs, and rainbows.

Jokes. He was only allergic to honey.

For as long as he remembered, even touching honey was enough to make his skin break out in rashes. Eating anything with honey, even just as a glaze, was enough to make his throat swell and suffocate him.

As of this year, he had a different allergic reaction.

Instead of attacking himself, when exposed to honey, his immune system made him grow into a hulking monster. If it also turned him green, he could have had a great future in acting, but alas, his skin tone remain unchanged.

Sometimes, when he was at home, he would change into his special stretchy pants and eat tubs of honey just because he could.

“…taken hostage by three men…”

The only downside to that was that when he was super-sized, the door became too tiny for him to pass.

Meh. There were plenty of other superheroes who could deal with it.

He continued his honey indulgence.



Short Story: Memory Gun

Genre: fantasy

Follows after Discovery. Read that first.

The memory gun was a delightful accident. They had only wanted to create a safe way to temporarily disable anyone in their way. The gun did that and more.

In most cases, their targets woke up confused but unharmed, not even knowing that they had met a supervillain.

Occasionally, someone would wake as if hung over from a night of drinking.

Then there was their precious son, who woke up with a crippling migraine and his memory of the past 24 hours scrambled beyond recognition.

“How do you feel?” she asked as she placed a fresh cold compress over his eyes.

Her son could only release a pained whine.

It hurt her to see her son in such distress, but a temporary migraine was much better than the more permanent alternative.

She ran her fingers through his hair.

“Just rest. Don’t force yourself to remember anything. If it is meant to be, you’ll remember again.”

Please forget.


Short Story: Discovery

Genre: family

Related to Secret Inheritance.

“I confess. When I decided to find out who the villain with the lame hat was, I wasn’t expecting you,” their son said.

“Err… Surprise?”

“Did you steal this?” Their son picked up a memory gun, which they made using the money from the jewel they stole.


“What about this?” He pointed at the jetpack on the shelf, which they had assembled themselves with minimal stolen parts after reverse engineering something else.

They shared a look. “No.”

“I saw that. I can’t believe it. My own parents are thieves in fancy costumes.” Their son turned and stomped out of their lair.

Her husband grabbed him before he could leave. She snatched the memory gun and aimed.

“Sorry son.”


Short Story: Relatable

Genre: general


“You won’t understand even if I tell you.”

“Try me.”

So he told her about how his friend had betrayed him, and they got into a fight. A very one sided fight where he did all the bashing and his friend just accepted everything because it turned out that his friend didn’t actually betray him. Now his friend was in the hospital and he was here because he was angry, hurt, guilty, and so confused.

She thought about her own day, where her teammate had turned on them mid-fight and joined the enemy team. Except, her teammate was still gone, and they could only hope that he was only pretending to betray them instead of being a spy all along.

“I can relate.”


Short Story: To Get a Gift

Genre: humour, family
Features the supervillains from Family Secret. They debuted in Secret Inheritance.


“The target is a phone so new it doesn’t even have a name yet. No one knows what Mr. Top Hat wants it for, but the police are on high alert,” the news anchor said.

A beep cut through the bustle, followed by an explosion of purple clouds and sparkles. In the chaos, a figure slipped in.

Unlike what the public thought, their target wasn’t an unfinished plan. It was much simpler than that. One phone. A normal phone, just one of many, to give to their son as a birthday gift.

By the time Mr Top Hat was ‘defeated and forced to flee’, she was already home, brand new phone in hand.

Their too-righteous son wouldn’t be happy if he knew where his new phone came from. That was a simple problem to solve. They would just make sure he never found out.


Short Story: Aerial Search

Genre: superpowers, fantasy
Features the girl from Fear.


She hated every moment, but it had to be done. It would be dark soon, and they couldn’t leave their friend to wonder alone on the mountain trail.

While everyone searched from ground level, she looked down from the sky, all the while chanting to herself.

“Don’t fall don’t fall don’t fall don’t fall.”

She finally found their missing member on a completely different path, making noises at a bird in a tree. Feeling a little petty, she grabbed him without warning and hauled him into the air.

“Ahh! Put me down!”

“In a minute.” She shot back towards the rest of the group and landed on sweet, solid ground.

“Found him.”

Then she stepped back to give the others clear access to their wandering friend.

“Where were you?”

“What were you thinking?”


Short Story: Fan at First Sight

Genre: general
Read after Third Chance.


The first time she saw his work, she was at the mall, waiting for her friends to arrive.

He was just one of many artists in an art expo held in the atrium. In fact, his stall was very plain, but it was also the easiest for her to casually browse as she waited.

What she found were beautifully illustrated calendars and weekly planners, each season, month, and day lovingly designed with their own distinct character.

She ended up buying his weekly planner. By the end of the day, she had stalked every platform he used to share his artwork.

So when he stopped posting new art, she noticed.

And it was good that she did, or he would have stayed in that secret facility forever afraid of himself.

Now, not only was she the reason fans like herself could enjoy his new era of artwork, she could look forward to her own special piece. Life was good.





Short Story: Third Chance

Genre: fantasy, superpower
Start from Hands of Destruction. Third Chance hapens soon after Accident.

The arm guards had massive, clunky bulbs at the end that worked by creating a large, empty space around his hands so he was physically unable to touch anything to destroy it, even the arm guards themselves. It wasn’t the best solution, but it worked, and that was all that mattered.

He hated them.

He might have to wear them for the rest of his life.

The door to his cell opened.

“Yo. Missed me?”

It was the counselor who had got him out of the facility years ago.


“Oh? That’s a better reaction than last time,” she said as she walked in with her briefcase. “In a more years you might even give me a handshake.”

He winced.

“Too soon? Sorry.” She unlatched the briefcase and opened it. Two shimmery somethings sat inside. “So, how have you been?”

“Pretty good. Until…” He shrugged.

“If it helps, Sweet Medic brought his arms back, so all good. We just need to deal with you.”

He looked at the open briefcase.

“What’s going to happen to me?”

“You have a choice. Stay in here like last time, or wear these at all times.” She tapped the briefcase.

“What are they?”

“Specially commissioned gloves by Spellweaver. They’re basically cooler looking seals to nullify your powers. So, freedom or power?”

“Freedom.” Hands down. Every time.

“Well then. Arms on the table.”

He did what she said. She reached over and released his arms from the guards.

Seeing his bare hands again made his breath catch. Tentatively, he touched the shimmering light in the briefcase.

The seal rippled, but otherwise remained unchanged.

Carefully, the counsellor put the seals on his hands. They sunk into his skin like tattoos.

“Right now, they completely block your powers. Spellweaver requests that you visit often so he can refine the seals so it keeps everyone safe but you can still continue your work.”

That sounded good. Too good.

“What’s the price?” he asked. In hindsight, he should have asked that first before accepting the seals.

“A special piece for his sister, who’s been a fan of your work even before you got your powers, who also happens to be me.”

Oh. Oh.

“Deal?” She smiled.




Short Story: Hungry for News

Genre: superpower


In a city where superpowers existed, it was hard to stand out.

But these two did it easily.

If there was anything newsworthy, the newsanchor and camerawoman duo was first on the scene. Didn’t matter how remote, how high, how packed, they would have the best shot before their competitors even reached the scene.

And they were 100% normal.

No superpowers, no special contract to borrow anyone’s powers, just two normal people who were hungry for news.

“How do you do that?”

“Trade secret.”


Short Story: Accident

Genre: superpower
Read Hands of Destruction and Constant Surveillance first.


It was an act of self defense. The other guy attacked him with a hammer. Of course he would protect himself.

The part where he completely vanished his attacker’s arms was a complete accident.

His attacker screamed obscenities at him as the paramedics and police swarmed around them.

“It’s not his fault. The other guy attacked him first. I saw it,” said a passerby who had witnessed the whole thing.

Her words disappeared into the cacophony of swearing and sirens. He quietly clamped his hands out of sight, away from everything and everyone.

Someone approached him. One of the agents who were supposed to keep an eye on him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled.

The agent pulled out a pair of familiar arm guards. “Me too.”

Without a word, they put the guards on his arms, sealing his destructive touch.

“What happens now?” he asked.

“We wait.”

~Continue the story in Third Chance~

Isabel Caves

Poetry, Fiction & Photography

Shawn Writes Stuff

Not necessarily well, but here we are.

Little Wee Stories

Very short stories to delight and entertain


Faristha Kanakkapillai

Skruulraken's Words

The blog of works by Zuko Vauxhall.