YOU!!! I HAVE FINALLY FOUND YOU!!! OMG I SEEN ONE OF YOUR STORIES BUT COULDN'T FIND IT CAUSE MY PHONE

YOU!!! I HAVE FINALLY FOUND YOU!!! OMG I SEEN ONE OF YOUR STORIES BUT COULDN'T FIND IT CAUSE MY PHONE GLITCHED BUT NOW I HAS FOUND IT!!!!

ME??? DHAKGTFHSKIFMSHDIFBEPS I am glad you were able to find me and that you liked my stories!!

Do you perchanfe have an archive account

I do perchance have one, I haven't posted anything on it in a while tho, if I do post Dead Man's Diner on it, it would likely be an expanded upon version of the story! More background on what happened before and such

Edit: not me fucking forgetting to tell yall my account its Mystics_many_Magics! Its mostly just two cyberpunk 2077 fics!

The masterpost

I don't know how to do the fancy, tiny link shit cus imma be very, real with all yall...I am not a tumblr girly...

Okay so I made the links tiny but dear God, how do I make it those little things where it's (pry1) and you can just click on it? I can't search for shit and YouTube has forsaken me but I hope this helps people!

Dead Man's Diner

Pt 1 Pt 2 Pt 3 Pt 4 Pt 5 Pt 6 Pt 7

Champion and King

Pt 1

Welcome to Gotham

Pt1

Everlasting Trio Nobody Knows AU DP x DC Part 4

Part 3

(Tim POV! This is a long one 😅)

 Tim almost has it. He's so close to cracking this file he can fucking taste it. He's been fighting this thing for two weeks. It's the most incomprehensible and infuriating code he's ever faced off against, which is fitting considering who gave it to them.

The engineer. THEIR engineer. The engineer they didn't ask for and Tim still isn't sure how they got, and the single biggest mystery in Tim's fucking life right now.

See, a significant amount of Bat gadgets at this point are Tim's brainchildren. He imagines them, he designs them, he workshops and tests them.

A few months ago, he'd had a pouch on his utility belt full of experimental pellets meant for slowing down fleeing vehicles. They were designed to break when run over and the compound inside would expand into durable, sticky foam that would ensnare tires.

He'd tested them in the cave.

He had not been prepared to take one hit to that side and have to frantically divest himself of that pouch before he became Gotham's latest foam based cryptid. 

His family had laughed themselves silly at him even as he broke off in pursuit of the drug runners he'd been fighting.

When Tim had doubled back expecting a mess to clean up and pellets to rework? It had been gone. All of it. The foam, the pellets, the pouch of his utility belt.

A serious problem, because who knows who got their hands on that?

Then it had shown back up.

That is to say, Gordon had called them because he found a pouch with a note labeled ‘for Red Robin’ sitting on the stand of the Bat Signal and didn't dare touch it.

After making sure it wasn't a bomb or some kind of biological weapon, Tim had opened the pouch - his own belt pouch - and found pellets. New pellets. Different pellets.

The note just read, “As funny as that was to watch, I fixed them for you. No more premature sploogage on the job. :3 P.S. here's a recipe for solution to dissolve future intentional discharges.”

They'd been right, too. The new pellets were tested (in case THEY were a bomb or biological weapon) and they'd been just strong enough to safely transport but still break when under the pressure of tires. Even the foam was more effective, and the spray Tim synthesized from that stupid recipe had worked like a dream.

What. The fuck.

This person not only improved his design and came up with a dissolution agent from scratch in days, they'd been watching without him knowing and made off with the original pellets without anyone noticing.

This was either a rogue in the making or someone they wanted on their side, and either way they needed to be found.

So Tim had done the obvious.

He'd put together a lockbox of money for the product they'd been given, loaded it with no less than ten (10) bat trackers and a note thanking their mysterious benefactor and requesting to meet up. He'd exploded a foam pellet on a rooftop and left the box on it in the hopes they'd notice and find it, then hung around far enough to not be seen and close enough to beat feet as soon as the trackers started moving. 

They did not start moving. They all went offline simultaneously. 

Tim has never moved so fast in his life, and yet by the time he got to the rooftop there was a pile of foam and nothing else. Not even a trace of whoever took the lockbox.

The next day, there was a ping of one (1) tracker that led them to a note thanking him for the money, refusing to meet, and asking if they'd considered certain improvements to their grapples with schematics for said designs.

Thus started the most bizarre and infuriating chase through notes, money, helpful designs and disappearing trackers Tim has ever been a part of.

Last time, the engineer had left them a USB stick and a note claiming that since they really wanted to know about him so bad, they could have the information on the USB if they could crack the encryption on the zip file inside.

Obviously they screened heavily for viruses or backdoors, but long story short Tim has been trying to crack the fucking thing for two weeks and refuses to let Oracle help. It's personal. It's a matter of pride. 

He could swear the code itself has actively been sabotaging his attempts to hack it, which is, you know. Impossible. 

Ping!

Tim blinks, looking over at the map on another monitor of the Bat computer. 

“Motherfucker-”

He taps into Duke’s comms. This is the first time this has ever happened during the day shift, he wasn't expecting it.

“Signal! I need you on the roof of the warehouse on the corner of Fifth and Everest - a tracker just came online.”

Another thing that infuriates Tim. You can't just turn Bat trackers on and off. They're activated, and then they either stay active or they're destroyed. They can't be turned off and then reactivated.

And fucking yet.

Duke groans, but his own tracker starts making its way in that direction.

“Dude. He's gonna be long gone by the time I get there. He always is.”

“He can't run from me forever,” Tim insists. “I'm almost in this damn file, and I am going to find him and dangle him off a roof from his ankles for giving us this runaround, so help me God.”

“Uh huh,” Duke deadpans. “Sure you are. I'm almost there, and- oh look! A note. What a surprise!”

Tim hears Duke touch down on the rooftop, eyes on the code on his screen while his brother clears his throat and reads aloud.

“Ahem- ‘Good morning, sunshine!’ - guess that's me - ‘I hear some bats and birds have been murdering tires at an alarming rate with the way they drive their bikes-’”

Tim freezes. He's not listening anymore.

“Signal.”

“‘- and that just can't be good for business. Nobody wants a bald tire ruining a chase. So boy do I have the thing for you-”

“Signal!”

“What?”

“I got it.”

“Huh? Got what?”

“I cracked his file. I got it.”

Tim is staring, wide eyed and full of a mixture of elation and trepidation at the contents of the zip file. It's a single text file titled, ‘Wow! You did it!’

“Oh, shit? Well? What's in it?”

Tim swallows, mouse hovering over the file. He takes a deep breath, then double clicks.

The file opens.

Tim blinks.

“Red Robin? What's in it?”

Tim scrolls slowly down, disbelief and horror dawning across his face. “Oh my God.”

“What? Come on, man, talk to me.”

Tim scrolls further.

“Oh. My God.”

“Red? Red Robin, you're scaring me, man.”

Tim puts his face in his hands. Voice muffled, he responds.

“Duke.”

“...Red? You okay?”

“No.”

“No?”

“It's the entire Bee Movie script.”

Silence reigns for a solid five seconds before Duke breaks and descends into raucous, hysterical laughter.

Even muffled by his own hands, Tim's scream of rage scares the bats in the cave into a tizzy.

Dead Man's Diner pt 2

Danny had to admit, Lunch Lady was an excellent teacher.

Sure they were blitzing though a cook book thst was more tape and hope the paper, but Danny was for once actually understanding and enjoying being taught.

Cracking an egg into a bowl, Danny held it close while whisking quickly, not fully incorporating the flour in his pancake batter before dumping a good sized dollop on the flat top, smiling from the brief sizzle that he heard.

There was a sudden cacophony sounds from the front of house (which was the dining area? He never knew that before) putting the flat top on low, Danny looked over to where Lunch Lady was floating only to find nothing.

Blinking a bit, Danny wiped his hands off OK his apron as he poked his head out, frowning at the diner car, "What was that..." his words were cut off by one of the blinds slats bending as if pried open, and as he squinted, Danny saw two figures watching from a distance ontop another rail car.

Vigilantes

Danny felt his heart flutter with excitement, while not as cool as maybe Martian Manhunter or StarFire (since y'know...fucking aliens, Space) the Gotham caped community were interesting, if only since Batman and his Flock were Sam's low key obsession, she had even gone out as Robin for multiple Halloweens, and don't even get him started on the fan theories about them all.

Smirking he tapped the bar, allowing thr blinds to snap closed, "Sam is so going to flip that I saw the Birds before her." Letting out a little giggled, Danny quickly swore as he smelt a bit of burning and rushed to flip his pancakes.

---

Tim was, in Dicks opinion, the most concerning member of the family, sure most days he gives of "miserable wet cat" energy but even then Dick had seen his little brother easily take down guys that even Bruce had trouble with.

That wasnt even touching on his um...mental quirks

The less he speaks of the time period between Bruce's and Kons deaths till their eventual return, the better.

Putting down the binoculars, Dick stole a glance over at Red Robin, who was frowning deeply at his wrist computer, scooting a little closer Dick leaned over to see what was happening, "Whatcha do~oing?"

So entranced by what he was reading Tim jumped a little, an elbow flying out to where Dicks face had been a second ago as he turned and glared.

"Don't...! Do that Wing! Ugh..." shaking his head as he let out a huff Tim took his eyes off the small monitor and looked up at the diner car, pointing at it as he spoke scornfuly.

"That place does not exist."

"Like, legally? I am sure Batburger doesn't either-"

"No." Tim said, cutting the older vigilante off, "It doesn't exist physically."

"Timmy..." Dick said as he ran through the protocols for when RedRobin got a little too many insane things in his head.

"Get that look off your face Wing, it really doesn't exist, like..." letting out a sigh, the teen tried to put his words right "Don't look straight at it but a bit to the side so it's to the side of your eye." Pointing to a middle distance a bit away from the diner cart, Dick sent a small frown at his brother but did as he was asked.

"Holy leaping lizards..." Tim, somehow, was right, since when Dick just looked about a few feet away from the diner, it started to waver turning...transparent? And a little blue? But when he looked at it closer it was just a normal, abet run down looking diner.

"Exactly, no need to bench me till Agent A stuffs me full of anti-psychotics!"

"That was one time Tim, and you were having a mental break down."

"I am not lying when I say we killed Santa Claus Dick!"

"Sure Tim...sure"

---

Danny drummed his fingers on the breakfast bar, nursing a cup of coffee as he waited for something to happen.

He knew thst he was being watched, he had a vague idea who was doing the watching, but was starting to get a bit bored waiting for them to get closer.

Pausing mid sip, a grin spread across Danny's lips, "Hey cart? Can you do something that might draw those guys over here? Let's get some customers!"

Some how, Danny's grin only grew at the rumble of the cart, and he xould hav sworn he heard a sound that was a mix between a train horn and a chuckle.

---

Tim shot his brother a stinging glare, swatting at his arm as he blushed, he did every much indeed accidentally killed Santa Claus and took an impromptu trip to Apokolips to give DarkSeid coal.

His next rebuttal to Nightwing was cut off as the diner cart shuddered as if it was in an earthquake before it stilled, and the banner that was across it suddenly gained a new line.

[JUST NOW! VIGILANTES AND HEROS GET ONE FREE SIDE OF FRIES! COME ON IN BEFORE THE OFFER ENDS!]

Tim was silent for a moment, watching the cart to see if there was any more changes before turning to Dick, who had lost the joyful energy that he always seemed to have.

"RR, plans changed, we are going to investigate inside."

Tim gave a sharp nod, his bo staff elongating as he grappled down to the train tracks below, his boots crunching gravel underfoot as he slipped from shadow to shadow, getting closer to Big C's diner.

---

Danny was in the back, flipping through his cook book as he heard a bell ring, jolting up, Danny could see through the service window and see who came in.

He had never met a real hero before, not like the two that had just came in, feeling nervous, Danny fumbled with a small notebook as he came out from the kitchen, grinning at the two Birds.

"Heya! Thanks for coming to Big C's! Names Danny and I am kinda the only one in today, what can I get you both?"

His eyes flickered between the two vigilantes, noticing new things each time he looked at them, like how Red Robin's cape had buttons instead of being sown on, or how Nightwings suit wasn't slick but actually textured.

---

Dick looked at everything he could as he stood in the diners door, it looked like a typical 50s styled mom and pop kinda place, an old radio buzzed with songs of a bygone era while the seats were cracked pink leather vinyl.

He could hear someone moving in the back, resting a hand on his eskrima sticks, Dick stalked further in, it felt real enough...

He could feel Red Robin knock into his back as the person from the back came into view, it was a teen, and holy hell did he look like Bruce Wayne adoption bait, raven hair, blue eyes and a cheesy looking grin.

He couldn't be older than Damian, who had turned 16 a few months ago, the teen was just so...tiny.

Danny, that's the name given to them, and Dick can see it, he looked like a Danny.

Pausing to look to Tim, Dick smiled back at the teen, "Well...can we see a menu?"

Oh worm?

Inspired by @bluerosefox and their idea for tiny Tim and little baby man Danny.

This might become a series if yall like it.

Tim cupped his hands together as he softly blew on his freezing fingers before rubbing them together to try and warm up.

He was out later than he usually dared, up on top of an apartment building, it was a hot spot for Batman and Robin when they came to Old Gotham because of the easy to grapple corners and ledges, plus a fire escape that when from the roof to street level! A perfect place for the bats to swing by.

Checking the time on his scrappy little prepaid flip phone, he had learned better than to take his real phone with him, on the extremely rare occasion his mother checked his location, it had happened once while he was out, and golly did he get an ear full.

He winced as he watched double digits turn to singles, he had been out too long. Sighing the boy stood with resolute disappointment, he had wanted to snap at least a few pictures of Batman and Robin before he had to head home.

Stepping down onto the fire escape, Tim carefully climbed down, but still skip the steps to get down faster, a quick pat on his side made sure that his little bundle of gift cards were still in his pocket.

His parents saw if he spent over a set amount on their credit card, so he just added a few 25 dollar prepaid visa card on top of his grocery bill.

Jumping down from the last step, Tim smiled a bit as he imagined himself doing the tricks he saw Robin do, well, both Robins. The new one was a bit more clumsy, but boy did he make up for it with the grin on his face.

Humming a bit to himself, Tim walked through the ever busy streets of Gotham, sure people looked at the small 11 year old boy wearing a far to big back pack and just sneered at the obvious rich kid, but Tim knew how to protect himself!

He had a bb gun that had the orange tip painted and he was not afraid to wield it!

Stopping in front of a Batburger, Tiny Tim hummed a but before going in, he had wanted to see if there was a new Robin figurine in their Batkid meal box.

---

Danny groaned as he clutched his side, he didn't want to to look down at it, didn't want to see the green ichor leaking between his fingers and down onto the pavement below him

Revealing he was a ghost to his parents was never something he had wanted to do, but Vlad had forced his hand.

Somehow he knew about Dan, knee of the destruction and terror he brought and envied, wanted to see Danny turn out just like him.

His family was targeted, one thing after the other, from car bomb to a lab accident, he didn't stop.

Danny had run himself ragged trying to save them, but...it almost hadn't been enough, Plasmius himself had to come to end them after his plans were foiled.

And to protect those he cared about the most he transformed right in front of his parents.

Only they stopped firing on Plasmius and onto *him*.

In the confusion Jazz had managed to capture Plasmius in a thermos, she tried to stop their parents from shooting Danny but...

They didn't see the son they raised anymore.

Just a filthy ghost that killed their son.

His core wailed in pain as he shuffled into an alleyway, his back pressing up against a wall as he tried to get his brain to think, he had known his parents loved him, but they very much did not love Phantom.

Holding back a pained whine as he slid down the wall and onto the ground, Danny looked up to the starless night sky, pollution had rotted the air, making it hard to see past the dim light of the moon.

He wanted the stars.

Why couldn't Clock Work send him to a place with stars to die?

Taking in a shaky breath the saccharine air, Danny let his head fall, finally looking at the chunk of himself that was missing, it was easily the size of his fist, he couldn't transform back into a human, or else he would simply bleed out.

He knew he shouldn't close his eyes, but he was just...so tired.

He knew what he needed to do but he didn't want to do it, his core let out a whimpering keen as he transformed again suppressing his thoughts and worries, shinking his body down to conserve ectoplasim, lessening his mind to his barest ghostly instincts to just get away from it all.

---

Tim swung his legs as he sat at the big booth all alone, slurping happily on his warm cup of hot coco he had splurged a bit sure but they came out with a new flavor!

He wondered how Nightwing felt about his supposed favorite drink, it didn't have much to do with him other than blue tinted whipped cream and hints of vanilla and carmel

Shaking his head, the boy hopped off the bench as his number was called by a bored teen that was working the late shift.

Grabbing his Batkid box in one hand and his shake in another, Tim said his thank yous as he walked through the door.

(his mother made sure he was a polite young man after all)

Deciding to find a nice place to eat before heading home, Tim set off into the night, swapping his drink between his hands to keep them warm.

Pausing for a moment as he crossed over an alleyway, Tim stilled and tried to listen again, hoping to hear what made him pause again.

That was a whimper alright, shuffling all his food into one hand, Tim fumbled for his flip phone before pulling it out and clicking on its meager flashlight.

He was pretty sure it was a kitten or something, he couldn't keep it, no matter how much he would love to have a friend over at his house, his father was allergic to nearly all of them and his mother thought Sphinx cats were ugly so it was a no go for Tim, but he could at least bring an injured kitten to a shelter.

Shining his phone into the dark alley way, green eyes welcomed him back.

"Ohhh boy, not...very much not a cat." Tim didnt know how to describe what he had stumbled upon, it couldn't be longer than a foot, it was kinda like snake with arms, human arms, and a human face, and with human hair.

It stared at Tim

Tim stared at It

It let out a soft, scared hiss.

Tim put his food down, took out a French fry and offered it to the little...thing.

That seemed to be enough for the little half shake half person...thing to slither over, grabbing the French fry with both of its hands and start to nibble on it.

Having never been told specifically *not* to touch things like this, Tim softly ran a finger over the little things head, cooing softly at the loud rumbling purr he got from it, "Oh your just a little guy..."

Giving it another frech frie after it finished the first, Tim looked around the alleyway to see if there were any other...things around, but only could see a faintly glowing puddle of goo, once again not specifically told not to touch it.

Tim touched the glowing goo. Tim being a curious 11 year old boy did what only an 11 year old boy would do when he finds a puddle of goo.

He put it in his mouth.

Tim did not like the taste of the goo.

"Blugh" was all he could saw as he scrambled over to his drink, taking a few long drags of his straw to get at the succulent, poorly nightwing themed drink.

There was a skittering snicker coming down from the little thing, which made Tim huff, "Should have known better, goo in Gotham is hardly good." That got another snicker.

Reaching down carefully, Tim softly stroked the long body of the little guy, transfixed on the feeling of both warmth and slick...scales? He didn't know, but up close he could see more of it, the little snake person thing had white bits, a blob of white thst looked kinda like a D on its chest, and pointed little ears as well.

His petting was rewarded with a purr that rumbled its whole body, but the purring stopped with a whimper as Tim's fingers brushed up against a not smooth side of the snake like body.

"Buddy...looks like you got hurt little guy..." Biting his lip, Tim thought about this...he wasn't told *not* to take home half snake half people before....

---

Danny knew two very important things.

Hand was good, felt nice on wiggle part.

And golden goodness that was given felt good in belly.

He wiggled and stretched in the very warm and comfy pocket he was placed in, the Hand was softly stroking his head, his ears were softly flapping as his core purred.

He could sense movement, and a slight shake of something else but couldn't tell what.

But he knew that Hand was warm and safe and didn't hurt.

And wasn't that all that was important?