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[siriusbutts]

Fanfic rec - Wolfgang/Kala

Set my World into Motion - Wolfgang/Kala, Vampire AU 

3861 words

[siriusbutts]

untitled

dick/damian

steph/damian

implied damian/steph/dick

written for the robincest meme prompt - "Damian knows it's a bad idea to date Dick and Steph at the same time. But how is he supposed to choose between the two people who've ever made him happy?

(Bonus: Dick and Steph totally know what's up from pretty much the beginning because, you know, they're bats.) Happy ending; other than that, take the plot where you please"

It’s Dick, and Steph watches as he grabs Damian around his hips and kisses him soundly. And Damian… tries to shove him away, but not with any real force. Not like he actually wants him to stop. And that is… very interesting. Steph smiles.  — Damian is… bored. He is loath to admit it, because Batman shouldn’t be bored. He should be vigilant. Not that he’s unaware or anything - he sees Dick coming, hears his landing and is perfectly prepared for his ridiculous displays of affection. He shoves at Grayson’s grabby hands that latch onto his side, but the token protestation dies as their lips touch and he can feel the other man’s smile.  “What are you so pleased about?” He asks when they break apart.  “It’s a nice night,” Grayson says and he’s still smiling and Damian wonders how he can beam like that with no reason. It still baffles him.  He just tuts and turns back to surveying the street. The men he’d been tailing had never shown up - it was possible they’d known he was coming, which suggested a leak in his information trail.  “Also, it’s 3 am and I haven’t seen you in a week. What say we head back to the cave?”  Damian had spent the past few days with Steph. He really wanted to be with Dick - but this case was still there, waiting for him to put together the pieces and find the missing links.  “I’ve got a case…” He said, not looking at Dick.  But Grayson just snickers. “O’s already found your leak - and you won’t be getting any further on that tonight, anyway. Come on, Batman - come home with me.”  Damian ponders it - if Oracle is on the leak, its possible the case might be handled properly. He turns back to Dick, and nods. “Lead on.”

“Come on, Damian,” Steph calls from the front door. “I’m coming, woman,” he growls back, but with no animosity.  They’re in her tiny little apartment and somehow she’s convinced him that going for ice cream at 11 in the evening is a good idea. Something about “Spontaneous” and “fun” and “God, Damian, who doesn’t like ice cream?”  And she insists on holding his hand, even though he’s not a teenager and she’s almost 30. She’s never cared about the looks, less than he has, even. He admires it, as he had when he was ten and she was a constant presence in his mind, because he knew her story and he knew her life and he could only wonder why? why would she insist on being Batgirl?  And so he’s licking a plain vanilla ice cream that’s entirely too sweet but he can’t deny it’s good - and he remembers that day on the moon bounce and has to shake his head.  “What?” Steph asks, taking a bite of her black cherry with chocolate sprinkles. There’s a little purple smear on her lip that she licks at and Damian is momentarily sidetracked. She nudges him. “I was thinking of the time you kidnapped me and brought me to that moon bounce,” he says, because he never has to hide his thoughts from her.  “‘Kidnapped,’” She scoffs. “What about that time helped prevent you from being a maladjusted freak?” “If this,” he gestures at the ice cream which is melting alarmingly fast, “is another attempt to make up for a supposed slight in my upbringing, I must remind you I’m an adult.”  Steph just shakes her head and gives him a sticky kiss to the side of his mouth. “Even adults like ice cream, D.”  ——- And that is his problem. Dick and Steph are the two people Damian is not too proud to realize had prevented him from becoming obsessed. Especially after Bruce’s death - the two of them, in their own ways, had saved him. It was a fanciful thought - but he saw the truth in it.  And he loved them. He’d realized it and it had shocked him, and he’d prodded the idea from a distance for almost two years before anything had happened.  When things had happened, they’d spiraled quickly out of his careful control - and now he was with both of them. At the same time.  And even he, the World’s Greatest Detective - he was sure it was obvious. But Dick never looked at him oddly - outside of his “really, Damian?” look - and Steph never asked questions. Batman was the perfect means for the deception.  He didn’t want to deceive anyone, was the problem. But how could he possibly choose?  ——- Dick wonders how Damian’s night with Steph was going. He idly drums his finger’s on the computer desk, staring up at the big glowing screen. Oracle sent him information about a drug running gang, but he’s distracted.  Damian’s birthday is next week - and Dick… isn’t sure what to get him. They’ve been a… thing for nearly six months. Damian has everything he needs.  He contemplates various weapons, gear - but thats impersonal; he’d want to find something that mattered even if he wasn’t in love with Damian. He unconsciously whistles a tune. “Hey, Beethoven,” Oracle crackles in his ear. “What’s up, O?”  “Hit a road block with this gang - I don’t think I’ll be able to get anything else on them tonight. You’re in the clear for sleep.”  Dick hums his agreement. “Hey - O? What should I get Damian for his birthday?”  He’d told Babs. She’d been… surprisingly unsurprised.  “Weapon?” “No,” he says as he stands and makes his way to the stairs. “Too … formal?” “Well…” He can practically hear Babs’s wicked smile, “What did I used to get you for your birthday when we were dating?”  He laughs. Then he has an idea.

Which is how Damian ends up staring at a naked Steph and a naked Dick sitting on his bed. He blinks a few times. He opens his mouth to speak, to defend, to … apologize? Only… they don’t look angry. The fact their both naked seems to preclude anger. Unless it was some kind of nude confrontation.  A half hour earlier they’d all been at the party Dick had insisted on. Damian’s 21st birthday.  He’d gotten… a lot of weapons and a lot of new tech. Which was what he’d expected. He’d thought Steph had left, and Dick had wandered upstairs after helping clear away the debris.  Apparently he’d been wrong.  Steph’s laugh cuts through his foggy brain.  “Come on, D,” she says, patting the bed next to her. Her hair is loose, spilling down over her shoulders. Dick is lying out on the bed, a tiny smirk on his face, too.  “I - what exactly is going on here?” Damian sputters.  “We’re all in the same family,” Dick says, “did you really expect us not to know? I live with you!” Damian’s face heats a little. “I’m … I apologize.”  And Steph laughs again. “Do we look mad? Get your birthday butt over here.” He moves. 

[siriusbutts]

day 3: restless

for the 30 day challenge

stephanie brown

set before batgirl, after africa

It's snowing, and for a few minutes Steph can pretend Gotham will be wiped clean. She sits by the window and yearns to be out there - even in the cold, even in the dark - because it's better than being in here, with just herself. 

She stands, walks to the window pane and lays a hand on the cold glass. It's so late it's early, and she imagines, for a minute - Robin, ducking in through the opened window, coming to push back the darkness. But, no - she can't rely on other people, because other people leave. That's what her father taught her, that's what the baby taught her - that's even what Robin taught her. And she taught them all the same thing, when she left. 

And those are the exact thoughts she doesn't want to go over again. Because she has, many a night - woken with his face, no his mask in her mind and his hands on her and she wants to scream and thrash but she sits, skin crawling and sweat pooling until her heart stops racing and she can sit up, and come look out this very window at the cold Gotham lights, ever-present even at this hour. 

Not overly fond of introspection. She hasn't been, prefers sarcastic remarks to meaningful words because they're often easier to hide behind.

But sometimes, she can't hide and here she is, wishing for someone who won't come, who shouldn't - because she can't be herself for someone else, she has to be for herself for her, first. Maybe then she'll find a place back out there, pull back on the eggplant and feel her fist connect with a face in a way that drives away the memories, too. 

[siriusbutts]

NO PART 3? ;A;

just posted it :) 

[siriusbutts]

impossible things pt. 3

Pairing; Tim/Steph

Words: 2,211 (this part) 5231 (all)

Genre: AU

Summary: Stephanie Brown never became a full-time hero, and kept her baby. 5 years later, Tim’s working part time in a library and meets a very interesting kid.

Notes: Steph is ~20, Tim is ~19. My chronology sucks. Strange things (i.e. name issues) will be resolved, so dont worry! This is unbetaed and unedited, so excuse any mistakes. 

Part One Part Two AO3

“Sure! I can do that.” Steph said quickly. “Anything I can do to help. And - thank you, Red Robin.”

It was surreal hearing her say his codename. 

It wasn’t a very nice area. Not too far from the library, but across one of the invisible lines that divided up the city. Tim was balanced on an outcropping of stone directly across from a dingy apartment block. His curiosity had gotten the best of him – after Steph and Crystal had left, he’d peeked at her library file. That was it though – he didn’t use any of the many resources to hand to find out more about their lives.

So he didn’t know more than that she lived here – Apartment 2A. He could deduce a few things from it, though. First, she wasn’t financially stable. The only reason a single mother would chose to live in this area was the low rent. It did raise the question of where her parents were. It was possible she’d been kicked out as a pregnant teen.

Living in this area might explain the fact that she could casually joke about criminals. In his line of work it was common – but most civilians he met were more frightened by the crazies. Most people knew someone who’d been killed by one villain or another.  

A twitch of movement caught his eye. The door to the apartment building opened and – Steph walked out. She was wearing a long gray jacket, an odd choice for the warm May evening. Tim watched her until she turned the corner, then made a decision. If she stayed around here, it was likely he’d be find people up to no good and the patrol wouldn’t be entirely selfish. His conscience twinged slightly, but he ignored it. He was just scoping things out.

Her journey stopped at a seedy bar a few minutes away. Tim had been in there a few times to hassle crooks for information.

He heard the soft sound of someone landing behind him. He turned, but it was only Dick. Who had no reason to be in Gotham…

“What’re you doing here?” Tim said.

“Hello to you too,” Dick replied with a grin.

“Hello, Nightwing. Why are you here?”

“Well, y’see, when a man and a woman love each other very much…”

Tim rolled his eyes.

“Dropped in to talk to the man about some business – thought I’d stop by and say hey. What’s up?” 

Tim turned to glance at the bar, then back to his brother. “Not much.” He didn’t want to give away anything.

“And what is ‘Not much’s’ real name?” Dick waggled his eyebrows. “Or did you just follow that pretty blonde girl down here for kicks?”

Tim sighed. “She’s not a criminal – or, I don’t think she is. I hope not.”

Dick gave him a look. “Wait – are you stalking a girl you have a crush on? Tim, you dog.”

“Not stalking,” Tim protested. “Just… investigating.”

“Okay, Detective Creep. Just promise me no bunnies will be boiled.” But Dick was teasing him. Tim glared and turned back to watch the bar. Steph had gone inside while they were talking.

“She said something weird,” he told Dick. “Or maybe it wasn’t weird and I’m paranoid.”

“You? Never.”

He wouldn’t get anything else until her shift ended. Time to find some actual work…

It was just then that the door to the bar burst open and a crowd of angry people flooded out, mid brawl. Tim hadn’t been wrong about finding shady business going on nearby.

Dick was already swinging down into the fray. Tim held back for a minute, trying to figure out the sides. He recognized three separate gangs represented. Was it just a brawl, or was it related to that?

He followed after Dick – watching as the bouncer tried in vain to restore order before taking a heavy whack to the face that sent him down. His brother seemed to be handling everything fine, and he was so distracted he went inside before remembering where he was.

Steph was behind the bar. He saw why she’d been wearing the long coat – her uniform top was low cut and the skirt was very short. She hadn’t noticed him come in yet.Tim looked away. The place was nearly empty, though a few older guys were laughing at the idiots fighting outside. 

“Um – Have you called the police?” Tim said, cursing himself for sounding hesitant. Steph glanced up and dropped the glass she was holding. It shattered on the bar top causing her to curse then blush.

 “Yeah – yes, I did,” She said, grabbing a trashcan and sweeping at the broken glass.

“Is this a routine occurrence, or would you say something bigger is going on?” Tim had to shove aside any personal feelings to focus on the case. If there were shifts in gang territory, it could lead to more street violence that might sweep up the whole city.   

Steph shook her head. “I don’t know. I just got here when it happened, sorry.” 

“Thank you for your time, ma’am.” Tim said, feeling off balance. “If you could keep an ear open for any talk… it would be helpful.”

“Sure! I can do that.” Steph said quickly. “Anything I can do to help. And - thank you, Red Robin.”

It was surreal hearing her say his codename. Tim turned without saying anything else and left. Dick had subdued the brawlers, and there were sirens only a few blocks away. 

“That was… weird.” Tim said after they’d gone back to perching on a rooftop a few blocks away.  

“Leaving me to handle all the tough stuff while you flirt with your boo?” Dick teased. “It’s like we swapped places.” 

It was an exaggeration – Dick combined the flirting and fighting. 

“I just – I haven’t really dated anyone who didn’t know about … this,” Tim said, gesturing to his costume, “since Ariana. And that was … almost six years ago.” 

“Have you gone out or anything yet?”

“We have a date tomorrow.”

“Get to know her more before you freak out about it,” Dick advised him. “I know how hard that is for you, but seriously.”

“Ha ha,” Tim rolled his eyes at his brother.

But he would try, at least.

~*~

It was a tiring Saturday. The kids were there in force, as it was the opening day of a series of readings by famous celebrities. The star of a popular kids show had just finished Where The Wild Things Are, and parents and children were milling around. It was like herding cats. Cats that came attached to angry watchful guardians. Who liked to yell at Tim.

“How dare you touch my daughter?” The woman had a face like a harpy. Tim watched impassively as her nostrils flared and her shark-like teeth gleamed.

“Ma’am, your daughter was eating a book.”

“She is a creative soul who needs to be free to be herself without judgement!”

The daughter in question was too young to even walk. The mother had set her down on the ground and promptly begun flirting with a much younger dad. Tim had tried to pry the book from her mouth gently, incurring the woman’s wrath.

He opened his mouth to apologize and back away. The book was safe, and his shift ended in a ten minutes. But the woman talked right over him. “You people - “  and Tim had no idea what exactly that was referring to – “you people only want to stifle my daughter’s spirit. Society is already placing obstacles in her path without you smother her freedom of expression!”

“Well, she’s free to express herself by not eating books,” a familiar voice said. Tim whirled to see Steph, hand on hip, giving the woman the most incredulous look. “Maybe if you took thirty seconds from slobbering on Mr. Too-Young-For-You to actually pay attention, you’d notice.”

Tim wanted to hug her. The mother gaped at Steph. “What do you know about raising a child?” She demanded.

“A lot more than you do, lady. Now get your kid before she chokes on a lego.” Steph turned to Tim. “Are you ready to go?”

Tim was busy trying not to laugh at the woman who was red as a tomato. “Yeah,” he choked out. “I’m just about done.”

He gathered his jacket quickly, and they ducked out of the library together.

“Thanks,” Tim said.

“Does that happen a lot?” Steph asked him.

“Often enough,” Tim replied. “I can deal with it, most days.”

“Jeez, I couldn’t handle that level of idiocy. Some people just shouldn’t be allowed near kids. Especially when they name them Bentley. What is she, a sports car?”

Tim huffed a laugh. “Better than Porsche.”

“Hi, my name is… Lamborghini Aston Martin Brown!” Steph joked. “Hey, so where do you wanna go?”

Tim raised an eyebrow. “Aren’t you supposed to pick, since you asked me out?”

She shrugged. “There’s a nice coffee place right around here. I live pretty close by, so I know a few spots. What are you in the mood for?”

“Coffee is good,” Tim said. “So, you live around here?”

She told him her street name. “It’s not the best place, but it’s good enough for us.”

Tim decidedly didn’t mention that he’d spent a while on that very street the previous night.

“Just you and Crystal?”

“Yeah,” she said. “Just the two of us.”

He didn’t pry and she didn’t offer. They reached the coffee shop, which wasn’t crowded. It was a cute place with big comfy chairs. Steph ordered a large hot chocolate with extra whipped cream. Tim got coffee, black.

“I’ll pay,” he offered.

“I don’t need your charity.”

“I – no, I wasn’t trying to –“ he said, flushing. She kept catching him off guard.

She laughed. “Relax, I’m just messing with you. And, since I asked you out, technically I should be paying.” She handed over the cash.

They sat. “How about you? You a Gotham kid, too?”

Tim nodded. “Lived here my whole life. I live… uptown, though.”

“A rich kid. I should’ve guessed.” She grinned at him. “What’re you doing in a library four blocks from the ghetto?”

He shrugged. “I needed something to do with my time and I like books?” He didn’t say that the library had pretty much been his idea, or that its creation had been funded by an ‘anonymous donation’.

“Nerd.” But she sounded fond.

He took a sip of the bitter coffee. It was good and hot.

“Not like I can talk, anyway,” she said. “My job sucks.”

Tim could imagine. “What do you do?”

“Bartender. It’s the only thing I could find that’s at night, so I can be with Crystal in the day.”

Tim watched her sip her own drink. It left a foamy mustache that she licked off unselfconsciously. He tracked the movement, then looked down. There was a long shallow gash across the side of her hand. He brushed his fingers over it. Steph froze at his touch, and he drew his hand back quickly.

“Glass – I shattered a glass, last night,” she muttered after an awkward beat. “There was a huge barroom brawl.”

Tim hated how he had to lie. He also hated that it was from the glass she’d dropped when he surprised her.

“Sorry,” Tim said, not sure if he was apologizing for the touch or for inadvertently causing the injury.

“It’s okay.” She smiled at him softly. “Capes turned up to save the day.”

Tim’s ears were burning, and he was glad his hair covered them. “Oh?”

“Yeah, and the cops shut down the place to investigate – something about gangs? I didn’t hear anything but them saying I’d have tonight off.”

“Any exciting plans?”

“Yes, I thought Crystal and I might hit the club.” She said drily. “She’s a great wingman.”

Tim snorted into his coffee.

They ended up sitting for a long time after they’d both finished coffee. Steph was animated and chatty. She seemed less wary than she was with her daughter, more like a twenty-year old woman. Tim couldn’t imagine the stress of her situation, but all her mentions of her life were offhand or joking. She didn’t complain. Tim admired it, and he admired her smile and her bright blue eyes. She made him laugh.

“I can’t believe I haven’t even known you a week,” Steph said after she stopped giggling at one of his remarks. “It feels like a lot longer, you know? Although people have told me I’m overly familiar.”

Tim felt warm. “Yeah,” he said in a soft voice. “I feel like that, too.”

He walked her home. Or, at least, to her apartment building. It was broad daylight, and anyway – Tim could handle anyone who came after them.

They paused at the overhang of the building. She was looking at him, and he was fairly certain it was a look that Meant Something. She wetted her lips and he tracked the movement before looking back up at her eyes. 

“Boys!” Steph scoffed, before she pressed her mouth to his. Her lips were warm and he kissed back. It was chast and sweet, and when she pulled away after a minute, her eyes were soft. Tim’s mouth tingled from the contact, and he reached up to stroke her cheek with the back of his hand.

“See you soon,” she said, and it’s wasn’t a question. He nodded, and she turned and disappeared into the doors.

[siriusbutts]

Day 2: accusation

for the 30 day challenge

cesare/lucrezia

The idea should horrify her, it should make her sick and dizzy and ill. It doesn't. 

His face is swollen and distorted with death. She gazes at it, impassive. There is a sheen of dried sweat on his brow and a dab of foam on his lips. She wipes it with her handkerchief, hiding the outside influence. 

She leaves him there. 

Cesare is not far - he is never far from her, really. He steps from the shadows, unbowed by her steely look.

"This was not well done, brother," she says, and he makes no move to deny it. 

She steps closer to him, and his hand rises to stroke her cheek. 

Why does it not bother her more? But she knows the answer. Because it is Cesare. 

[siriusbutts]

YOU SHOULD UPDATE IMPOSSIBLE THINGS, JUST SAYING.

i've got the next part written, i'll post it tomorrow :)

[siriusbutts]

Day 1: beginnings 

For the 30 day challenge

Bucky/Natasha

The metal was cool against her flushed skin. She panted, skin slick. 

"Natalia," he whispered and his hand caressed her neck. 

The memory blinked through her head as she stared at him, so many years later. He had not changed. Was this a trick, someone using her past against her? Were they coming for her, finally, after all these years? 

No. His face was not that of an enemy. It was the same face that had met her in dark places and dark times. His face was made of memories. 

She would see him again.

[siriusbutts]

using the prompts below, write a drabble (or whatever) a day for the next 30 days. find someone willing to hit you if you miss a day. look back at the end and go ‘oh! i’m a writer!’.

beginning. accusation. restless. snowflake. haze. flame. formal. companion. move. silver. prepared. knowledge. denial. wind. order. thanks. look. summer. transformation. tremble. sunset. mad. thousand. outside. winter. diamond. letters. promise. simple. future.

[siriusbutts]

impossible things pt. 2

Pairing: Tim/Steph

Genre: AU

Words: 1557 (this part), 3011 (all parts)

Summary: Stephanie Brown never became a full-time hero, and kept her baby. 5 years later, Tim's working part time in a library and meets a very interesting kid.

Notes: Steph is ~20, Tim is ~19; the chronology is weird, and I've fiddled with some things to make this fit. write off any inconsistances with canon as this! Also: Kid!Fic & fluff, so if they're not your things, run for the hills!

“Whatever, have your secrets, mystery man. I like a little enigmaticness in a person.”

“I’m not sure that’s a word,” Tim told her, voice dry.

“It is now, since I just said it.” She replied. “So. When do you get off?”

“ - What?”

“Of work, you big perv.”

Part One AO3

“Curiouser and curiouser!” Crystal cried, dancing into the hall. Tim’s head flew up at the sound, body tensing at the noise. Patrol last night had left him sore and tired. Large parts of his body ached, and he was bruised despite his costume’s defenses. Still, he felt himself smile at the pair of them.

“Hush!” Steph silenced her daughter, with a grimace towards Tim. He shook his head.

“Sorry, Mama. Hi, Mister Tim!” Crystal said in a loud whisper.

“Hello,” Tim greeted her. “So, you liked the book then?”

“We didn’t finish it yet, but someone wanted to come back and see you again,” Stephanie said, nudging Crystal, who squeaked and hid behind her legs with a mortified “Mama!”

 “I wasn’t complaining,” Steph continued with a wink in Tim’s direction.

Tim… well, it would be a lie to say he hadn’t thought about her, either. There weren’t so many attractive blonde women in his life he could ignore one who seemed – who he thought seemed – interested in him. She certainly hadn’t been subtle about eyeing him as she checked out the books on Tuesday.

She was around twenty, he figured, rounding up. If Crystal was four – though he was fairly certain she wasn’t, given her reading ability – Steph had been 16 when she had her. He’d wondered about the father, and how he fit in their life – was Tim infringing? But he’d decided Steph didn’t seem the type to flirt with other guys behind her baby daddy’s back. And not too many guys stuck around for this long, statistically speaking. It was possible, but unlikely. She didn’t have a ring, which made it even less likely.

He set down the scanner and moved out from behind the desk, shaking hair from his eyes. He had to stifle a yawn, though – he’d gotten to bed at six, woken at nine.

“Late night?” Steph asked him.

“Yeah,” Tim replied. And a murder case that led me to ten armed thugs.

“Out with your girlfriend, eh?” She said. To the point, he thought with a mental laugh.

“No,” he replied. “I don’t have a girlfriend.”

“Oh,” Steph replied and smiled. “Me neither – I mean, I don’t have a boyfriend. Or a girlfriend, actually.”

Crystal tugged at his hand. “Mister Tim, will you choose another book for me? You know good books.”

Tim tore his gaze from Steph’s and looked down. “Sure thing.”

He’d spent a half hour yesterday finding books he thought she’d like. He wasn’t sure what that meant.

“This one has a lion on it, Mama!” Crystal said, picking up The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe.

“I wasn’t sure how you felt about heavy handed God metaphors,” Tim told Steph, “but I figured she’d probably like it.”

“We don’t go to church or anything, so I think they’ll fly right over her head,” She joked back. “Plus, that one has a movie too.”

“I have to actually work today,” He said with an apologetic note. “Or I’d stay and read – if you wanted me to, I mean –“

“Go, you slacker!” Steph gave him a little shove and laughed. “We’ll manage without you, somehow.”

He went back to his desk. Lifting a large pile of books made his arm twinge sharply – it had been dislocated last night, and he’d had to pop it back in himself. “Dammit,” he said, covering his face with his hands. His shoulder pounded dully. He hadn’t thought it was that bad, though the limb had ached something fierce the whole evening before he went to bed.

“Hey – you okay?” Steph asked and he turned, trying to clear his expression. He hadn't heard her come back into the main room.

“Sure – just a headache,” he lied.

She looked skeptical. “Why are you favoring your arm, then?”

He met her eyes, surprised. “I – what?”

“Whatever, have your secrets, mystery man. I like a little enigmaticness in a person.”

“I’m not sure that’s a word,” Tim told her drily.

“It is now, since I just said it.” She replied. “So. When do you get off?”

“ - What?”

“Of work, you big perv.”

Tim went bright pink. “Oh – um. Two thirty.”

“Damn,” Steph said. “Crystal’s got Little League at two.”

What did that mean? Tim wondered. He didn’t say anything.

Crystal wandered back out with three of the books.

Steph glanced down, then back at Tim, and grinned. “So, how do you feel about breaking a few rules?”

He raised an eyebrow. “Which rules are we talking about?”

“My turn for some mystery.” She turned to her daughter. “What are your thoughts on donuts, birdie?” Crystal grinned hugely back.

“Tim, what’s your favorite?” Steph asked him. He shot her a puzzled look. “If you let her pick, she’ll choose one with pink sprinkles.”

“Mama, they’re the best kind!”

“I do have a certain fondness for pink sprinkles.” Tim said solemnly. “Don’t tell anyone.”

Crystal giggled. “Anybody who doesn’t like sprinkles is a loser! It’s the law.”

“The sprinkle police are after me, then,” Steph said. “Quick, we better run! Leave the books with Tim, we can get them when we get back.”

Crystal obliged, and Tim was left staring after them. His arm didn’t hurt as much, at least.

Fifteen minutes later, her blonde head reappeared at the door. “Mister Tim?” She whisper shouted. He looked up. Steph wasn’t with her. Had something happened?

“What is it, Crystal? Where’s your mom?”

“Shh, Mister Tim. Don’t blow my cover! Here!” She darted over, dropped a piece of paper in his lap, and hid under his desk.

It was a message written on the back of a 7-11 receipt.

Agent Blue,  

I have procured the items. I have a plan to smuggle them into the premises, but I need your help. If there are no enemy agents waiting to dismantle my operation, send word back via Agent Sprinkle.

  Agent Purple.  

He had to laugh. He was working alone, and he didn’t think Burt would care – he was on to Dostoevsky.

“Agent Sprinkle?” He said, and Crystal giggled. “Tell your mom – Agent Purple – that she can come in.”

“Yes, sir!” Crystal said, and went back outside. A minute later, she and Steph re-entered, carrying a bag and two coffees.

“So, why am I Agent Blue?” He asked as she set one of the coffees in front of him.

“Your eyes are really blue,” she told him.

“So are yours.”

“Yeah, but I like purple.” She spread out napkins over the desk and set out two pink sprinkle donuts and one powdered.

Tim reached for the coffee – “I assume this is for me, unless you’re raising a future midget?”

“Cheers,” Steph said and bumped her cup against his. “Don’t even wanna try and imagine this terror on caffeine. Sugar is bad enough. Come on, birdie – before Tim

eats your donut.”

“If he does I’ll send him down the rabbit hole,” Crystal said.

“That sounds ominous,” Tim commented, taking a bite of the ridiculously pink confection.

“My little mob boss,” Steph joked. “Give the Mad Hatter a run for his money in themed villainy.”

“What?” Tim said sharply, looking up. What did she know about those types?

“Oh, I shouldn’t joke about that stuff, I guess. But honestly, how do those guys ever take themselves seriously?”

“I don’t know,” Tim said – he watched her from the corner of his eye. The Mad Hatter wasn’t one of the more famous bad guys to work in Gotham. “Should we be –?” he nodded towards Crystal.

“She can handle herself,” Steph said. Her face closed off. “We’ve had to for five years.”

What did that mean? Tim had refrained from prying into any part of their lives. Still – that raised some red flags. He’d even stopped himself from looking up her name and address in the library database. That would be creepy, even for him.

“I’m almost six, Mama!” Crystal said, indignant. The sudden shift in mood hadn’t affected her.

“I remember the day just as well as you do, birdie,” Steph said. “Possibly much more vividly.”

Tim’s fingers itched to search her file. He settled instead for taking a sip of his coffee.  They are in silence for a few minutes. Steph was staring at the wall of posters on the wall next to his desk, clearly lost in thought.

“Look, I’m sorry –“ Tim said, not sure what exactly he was apologizing for, but feeling the need nonetheless.

Steph reached out a hand to his face, cutting him off. She swiped a finger across the corner of his mouth.

“You had some – icing, on your face,” Steph said. She turned slightly pink. It was the first time he’d seen her blush. It was unreasonably charming.

“Oh,” he replied like an idiot.

“Listen, are you working tomorrow?” She continued, plowing over his attempted apology.

“Sure, yeah,” he said, curious. “I’m off at three.”

“I hope this isn’t too forward, but. Can I – come by? We could get lunch or something, maybe.”

“Definitely.” Tim said, and she smiled at him. He was very fond of that smile, especially after only two meetings. It went all the way to her eyes and made them shine. It made him want to smile back, so he did.

“Cool.” 

NEXT: creeper Tim and an actual date!

[siriusbutts]

impossible things pt. 1

pairing: Tim/Steph

rating: g (this part) 

words: 1462

notes: this is an au where steph never became spoiler, and kept the baby. tim works part time in a library. he's also red robin. they do cute things along with a kid. my grasp of dc continuity isn't stellar, but he's ~19, and she's ~20. this part is pure fluff, but eventually it'll be slightly more serious.

' “Yeah, we were at the East branch on Saturday and she got in a fight with another kid about Harry Potter.” The woman looked rueful. “I don’t think I can show my face in there ever again. Thank God they opened this place last month.”

Tim smiled at that, and she grinned back. Her eyes were bright blue. Tim swallowed and looked back down at the books, keeping his hands busy.

“Hey, if you’re not too busy – got any recommendations?”

“For you, or for Cry – your sister?” Tim stumbled awkwardly over the words and went slightly red again. Using her name might come across as creepy.

The woman eyed him for a minute. “She’s not my sister.” '

AO3

Peaceful. It was cool but not cold, the gentle hum of the air con was soothing, and Tim could settle into an easy rhythm of checking in returned books. The library was fairly new, and on the weekends there were lots of kids and parents streaming through. Tim preferred the slow days, if he was being honest. He got more done, and parents didn't hassle him. He liked the kids, but he didn't like mangled books, and telling off a child for damaging one had earned him rants from enraged moms and dads.

He loaded a pile of books onto a cart for re-shelving. The wheel squeaked as he rolled towards the W-Z stack.

Libraries were full of order, and Tim had respect for order. His life had always lacked it - where was order when you spent half your life in a costume fighting crime? There was no Dewey Decimal system for that. It was easier when you could separate it all out, everything in its place - but that was what worried him about Bruce, the difference in and out of the mask was like split personality sometimes. Tim didn't want to be like that: so obsessed with the fight it affected him to the core. He wanted to be Tim in and out of costume.

Of course, the question was, who is Tim? Timothy Drake? Timothy Wayne? Red Robin? He moved down the stacks, sliding the books back in their places. He could imagine Dick's voice chiding him for all this introspection. That was just Dick, though, who never spent as much time in his own mind as Tim. It helped him to consider these things - tough questions wouldn't get answered if he avoided thinking of them.

He heard the doors to the library swing open, and the sound of a child's voice. He finished the last few books in M-O, then wheeled the cart back out into the main area. There was a tiny blonde child looking around the room, mouth open wide. She was maybe five, though Tim wasn't the best at ages. Definitely old enough that she should be in school, he knew.

She also didn't seem to have a parent. Tim frowned, settled the cart at the back of his desk, and went over to her.

"Hi!" She greeted him, "this place has a lot of books!"

Tim raised an eyebrow at her. "It’s supposed to," he replied. "But I don’t think you’re supposed to be here without an adult.”

She stuck her tongue out at him.

“You brat!” the door to the library banged open again. “How many times have I told you to wait for me?”

Tim looked up to see another blonde entering the building. She looked around his age, and out of breath. She was also smiling, lessening the effect of her rebuke. The little girl squealed and ran to hug her – sister’s? legs. “But you’re so slooooow.”

“Look at all the books!” she said, shifting topics rapidly – “This is way better than the other library.”

Tim moved back behind his desk, but out of the corner of his eye he saw the older girl smile. “I know, birdie – that’s why we came. And hey, if you ask politely, maybe the nice man will tell you where the kids section is.”

Tim felt his face go warm. He tried to school his expression as the two walked over towards his desk – why did he care that she’d said that? He didn’t know her from Adam.

“Hey, mister!” The little girl said, bouncing on her feet.

“Manners, Crystal!”

“… Excuse me, mister?” The girl tried again, “Where’re the kids books?”

Tim pointed to his left. “Right through there.”

“Thank you!” Crystal said, turning back to her sister.

“Go on, birdie, I’ll catch up in a minute,” the older girl said, and Crystal bounded off.

“Sorry about the noise,” She said, pulling a few books out of her bag and setting them on the desk. “I don’t think she’s gotten the library equals quiet idea yet. Or she does, and willfully ignores it anyway.”

Tim slid the books towards him, flipped open the first one and scanned it back in.

“Don’t worry,” he said. “There’s no one here to disturb, really. Tuesday’s aren’t our busiest day.”

“Yeah, we were at the East branch on Saturday and she got in a fight with another kid about Harry Potter.” The woman looked rueful. “I don’t think I can show my face in there ever again. Thank God they opened this place last month.”

Tim smiled at that, and she grinned back. Her eyes were bright blue. Tim swallowed and looked back down at the books, keeping his hands busy.

“Hey, if you’re not too busy – got any recommendations?”

“For you, or for Cry – your sister?” Tim stumbled awkwardly over the words and went slightly red again. Using her name might come across as creepy.

The woman eyed him for a minute. “She’s not my sister.”

“Sorry, I – oh – wait.” Tim blushed deeper. “Your… daughter?”

The woman nodded, and her eyes closed off like she was expecting him to say something. Tim’s brain was already calculating – if she was around his age, and Crystal was four at the youngest…

“Never mind.” The woman said, her tone suddenly ice cold. Tim snapped his head back up – she was walking away, shoulders tight.

“What? No, wait!” He said, and tried to move out behind the desk. His foot caught on the side and he stumbled, the edge of the desk digging painfully into his thigh. “Ow! Look, I wasn’t – I didn’t mean to upset you,” he continued, limping after her.

Crystal was sitting with a pile of books next to her, and she looked up as they entered. “Hi, Mama.” She said as her mother came in.

“Don’t,” the woman said to Tim.

“That’s not fair,” Tim pointed out. “I wasn’t judging you or anything, I swear.”

She stared at him, eyes hard. He met her gaze squarely, and after a minute, she looked away.

“Sorry,” she said, and her shoulders slumped. “It’s just – a lot of people do.”

Crystal looked between them, and Tim would’ve bet she understood a lot more than she let on.

“You,” she said, looking to him, “Help me find stories? – please.” The final word was said with a pointed look at her mom.

Tim settled on the floor next to her and after a minute her mother did the same.

“What kind of books do you like?” he asked.

“All kinds,” Crystal answered. “I read really good.”

“Really well,” her mother corrected with a smile. “And don’t pretend like I don’t read to you half the time.”

Tim turned to search through the books and after a moment, pulled one from the shelf. He handed it to Crystal. “You might like this one.”

“A-alice’s… Ad – Adv – Adv…“

“Adventures,” her mother prompted.

“In W-wonder…land?” Crystal continued. “Where’s that?”

Her mother laughed. “It’s not real, honey. If you like it, maybe we can rent the movie version.”

Crystal’s eyes lit up. “Oh, can we? I’ll like it, I promise.” She shoved the book into Tim’s lap. “Will you read it to me, mister?”

Tim glanced at her mother, then his watch. Lunch break started in fifteen minutes – and it was really quiet.

“It’s okay if you have to work,” her mother said.

“Actually, my break just started,” Tim lied. “Is it… okay? With you?”

She shrugged. “She makes you do voices."

Tim laughed at that. “I bet your Hagrid is spot-on.”

“’Ey now, don’t yeh knock me skills,” She said in a deep growl. Crystal dissolved into laughter and Tim had to smile, too.

“By the way,” Tim said, “I’m Tim." 

“Stephanie. But it’s Steph.” she replied, and grinned. “Now, let’s hear your White Rabbit.”

Tim picked up the book and opened it. Crystal moved until she was nearly sitting in his lap. He quirked an eyebrow at Steph, who looked like she was trying not to laugh. She likes you, she mouthed at him, and he felt his face go red again. He quickly looked back down at the book.

 “Alice was beginning to get very tired of sitting by her sister on the bank, and of having nothing to do…”

NEXT: secret agents and pink sprinkles.

[siriusbutts]

Blood

Pairing: Cesare/Lucrezia

Words: 462

Rating: M (for violence fetishization, incest, etc.)

Summary: She’s jealous, sometimes, of Cesare. He can kill them up close, while she has to be distant.

Notes: This is dark, so if that's not your thing, don't click. 

She’s jealous, sometimes, of Cesare. He can kill them up close, while she has to be distant. It’s useful, of course, but she wonders what its like to feel the life draining from the body.

People whisper about the two of them. An angel and a devil walking the earth, they say. She has to laugh at that. If anything, she is the devil and Cesare the angel, for he is her heaven.

One night, she’s awoken by the presence of someone else in the dark. She sees the shadow in the corner, and draws a dagger from beneath her pillow. It is only Cesare, though. He stalks into the weak light from the window. His hands are covered in blood, and his eyes find hers. They burn like a fire. Holy fire, she muses, rising to stand next to him. She strokes her finger across his cheek, where a scratch oozes blood. His breath is heavy. She brings the scarlet droplet to her mouth and laps at it. Cesare growls and presses his lips against hers. She leans into him, feeling the heat of his body against her thin nightgown. Touch me, she whispers, and he raises a bloodstained hand to her face. It’s tacky against her skin, and she feels a thrill of heat course through her. His other hand goes to her neck, drawing her closer to him. They are like the moon and its shadow, light and dark intertwining. He pushes her backwards onto the bed, and she bites at his mouth hard enough to draw blood. She can taste it on her tongue. There’s blood in her mouth, on her face, on her clothes from his, and she marvels at how this liquid, flowing through both their veins, is the thing connecting the two of them, forever linking their lives and hearts. She wants there to be more; she wants to be closer.

She feels the fire, dark and insistent, course through her at the thought of Cesare’s hands around a man’s neck. She sees the hunger in his eyes when he looks at her, and she knows he’s thinking the same. There is more than blood, she decides, joining them together.

It turns out she can’t feel the life fleeing a body, but she can see it. She looks into the man’s eyes: one second they’re living, and the next they’re like glass. She pulls the dagger from his chest, wipes it on her skirt, and walks into Cesare’s waiting arms.

[siriusbutts]

Where you end and I begin

Pairing: Cesare/Lucrezia (but only cuddling)

Words: 763

Rating: PG

Summary: Lucrezia is lonely and pregnant.

Notes: So, this was supposed to be porn, but then it turned into sad Lucrezia and cuddling. Sorry. Also, not beta'd, so all mistakes are mine. (title from Basic Space by the xx)

The air inside her room is stifling, even with the window thrown open. Sister Martha has brought her a cool rag, but she still sweats and her feet ache and she has spent too much time in the same place. Cesare hasn't come to visit in over a week, and she knows he is busy, but nuns are so very boring. 

She gets to her feet with a heavy exhale, because at 6 months along she feels gigantic and awkward. She wishes she could ask her mother if it was this bad for all of them, and if so, why on earth did she keep going after Cesare was born? But she hasn't seen her mother, either. Tears start to gather and she wonders when she turned into a weeping child, and brushes them away angrily. 

The garden is slightly cooler, in the shade of a large tree, feet propped up on a little stool one of the nuns brought out for her. They don't look her in the eyes, none of them but Sister Martha. Feeling very lonely, she closes her own and tries to forget about it all.

She wakes up to a soft hand on her cheek, and when she opens her eyes it is to Cesare kneeling, watching her from inches away. He looks tired, eyes slightly red, but she has never been happier to see him. She reaches out to hug him close, and rests her head against his shoulder, sniffling slightly.

"What's wrong, sis?" He asks, sounding alarmed. But she shakes her head and says, "I have been very lonely today, brother. I'd hoped you might visit, but it seemed you'd forgotten me."

"I could never forget you, my love," he answers, pulling them both to their feet. "Never." 

She smiles at him, and sniffs again. Somehow his very presence is like a load lifted from her shoulders. He reaches out and collects a teardrop on his fingertip, before popping it into his mouth which makes her giggle. 

"Oh, Cesare, how I've missed you," she tells him, linking their arms together. 

--

Sister Martha is tidying her room when they enter, and she glances up flustered - "Ah, good evening, your Eminence," she says, doggedly not meeting Cesare's eyes. He stares after her as she all but flees from the room. Lucrezia shakes her head, "Poor brother," she whispers, sitting on the bed. 

He doesn't reply, taking the chair next to her. 

They sit in a comfortable silence for a moment, drinking in each other's presence. Every time they are apart is too long, but once they are together again she forgets his absence. 

"You look weary, Cesare," she tells him, and leans over to rub a thumb over his cheekbone. He turns into her hand. 

"It's been a busy week, sis. A cardinal's work is never done, it would seem. Especially if one's father is the Pope of Rome." 

"I suppose I ought to be glad I'm shut away here then, but I can't find it in me," she says, "I would be glad for some excitement." 

"If you called the squabbles of old men exciting, you would be lying." He answers, coming to sit next to her on the bed. The lies back and he follows, and they lie nose to nose. 

"Cesare," she says, "being with child is not as wonderful as people would make it seem. Have I grown ugly?" For the nuns have no mirrors. 

His breath puffs against her lips. "You are radiant," he tells her.

"Can you … stay with me? Tonight?" She asks, bright eyes hopeful. She already knows the answer, but it still hurts when he shakes his head.

"I'm sorry, my love. Father requires me, or you know I would. I'd much rather be here with you."

She does know, which makes it better. Still, the prospect of another night of restless dreams and memories of her husband is daunting. 

"I will make the most of the time I have with you, then," she says, turning to lean against his side. He shifts to accommodate her like they are one being, curling his own limbs around hers. His arm rests over her stomach and she tucks her head back against his shoulder. He is warm and safe, and she loves him for it. 

His hand rubs a circle into her skin, and her eyes begin to close. She fights to stay awake, to be conscious of him for as long as possible, but it is impossible.

When she wakes, he is gone, and she is alone again.