#Tim drake is a kryptonian

[alittlesongbirdchirps]

Clark is not the only kryptonian survivor.

Tim drake unknown to him was not only adopted but an alien as well.

But unlike Clark his powers didn’t kick in, most likely due to lack of sunlight or something.

That was all about to change, while looking for proof of Bruce being lost in time.

His powers activate whether due to having more heighten emotions or being out in the sun more.

They kick in as he was about to be stabbed in the spleen by league of spiders members.

But that’s not why they activated not to save his own skin.

He was watching his temporarily team mates being slaughtered, and that’s when red comes from his eyes and before he knew it, he was surrounded by bodies. By bodies he killed by lived he had taken.

He doesn’t have time to process this, he’s gotta save Bruce he will deal with this later.

And he doesn’t deal with that later even after saving Bruce, however the build up emotions the trauma and no one even discussing anything, the standard bat way, it all comes to light.

It starts with Bruce beginning to learn what Tim did to get him back.

Bruce being a concerned parent who can’t articulate shit properly, so when he states something in concern it comes across as the opposite more criticising.

“If I knew you were gonna join the league and become a criminal Tim I wouldn’t have left information behind for you to follow.”

Tim eyes widen, he felt anger he lost so much did so much just to get him back to only be told that.

He felt a familiar warmth come to his eyes, the same feeling he had right before he killed members of the league of spiders.

“No.”

He covers his eyes.

He doesn’t want to hurt them he doesn’t.

But Damien never misses an opportunity to attack.

“Pathetic your crying already and fathers has barely done anything, disgraceful.”

Cass is the only one who notices Tim shift in behaviour, he feels more dangerous then he should.

She’s about to make a comment when, suddenly red light comes from his hands through the small gaps, shooting out. Destroying one of the glass cases.

Everyone in the cave eyes widen, Bruce immediately gets up from the batcomputer chair, worried.

“Tim you need to calm down-��

He doesn’t get to say much more when Tim tries to shout to tell them to go away, when ice fog just comes out from his mouth.

Bruce eyebrows knitt together along with Damien, they’ve both seemed to realise something before everyone else.

“What’s happening to me?!”

Fear in his voice, Tim was panicking losing even more control then he had already, that’s when Bruce makes a split second decision and shouts.

“Clark!”

Just in time to, as red escapes Tim’a hand again about to hit Bruce but instead hits Clark’s chest.

Tim removes his hands, he knows he can’t hurt Clark. Clark will protect them from him. But as Tim stares up at Clark with fear, relief, regret and guilt.

He notices Clark stares back down at Tim with shock and hope.

And that’s my small shitty Drabble. (Grammar will be terrible lol.)

[medusagorgongirl1]

Tim is the big spoon, I don't give a shit that he's smaller, he's the big spoon. He needs to hold Kon for the reassurance that Kon is really there.

Kon is the little spoon and fucking loves it because he never gets to be that vulnerable or feel that loved. I'm convinced that this man loves physical affection and the act of being held would absolutely bring down any of his defenses. Being held makes him feel real and loved and like he's something that deserves it.

They fit together so fucking well and I love it

[bbbbbbbbatman]

I want a Timkon clone baby where tim realises he’s kind of batshit insane right now and not equipped to raise an infant, so he leaves the baby on the manor doorstep and disappears into thin air to do a martial arts eat pray love until he’s sane again because he doesn’t know what therapy is. And now Bruce is not only a first time grandpa but a first time infant caregiver and he’s been thrown into the deep end with an alien baby who instead of pissing on him when he’s being changed can shoot lasers at him, scream so loud it shakes the foundations and launch projectiles at people with TTK. He has to wear a full bomb proof batsuit to change the little guy and has ma Kent on speed dial

Bruce, calling Clark at 2:47 am: Clark, I need your help, it's an emergency

Clark, who has never heard Batman ask for help so directly, knows whatever's going on must be truly dire: What is it? What do you need? I can be there right away

Bruce, desparate: I need your mother's phone number

Clark, not sure what emergency could be solved by his mother in the middle of the night: ...My mother's...phone number?

*loud crash in the background, followed by crying*

Clark: Um...what exactly is going on?

Bruce, using the bat voice: Your. Mother's. Phone number. Now

[lemonlimestar]

like moth to flame

[arjudy224]

The Intern: Outreach Gala

Another uneventful day for Gotham's environmental intern...

The Intern: Gotham x reader

Prequel: Death of a family

The Intern: Day one

The Intern: The Laughing Fish

The Intern: Busy Work

The Intern: Outreach Gala

The Intern: Teachers Pet

The Intern: Visiting an old friend

The Intern: Chemical Valley

The Intern Small Talk with a Dead Man

The Intern: Billionaire Boys Club

Gotham's public library appears unrecognizable under the cloak of night. Broad leaves shroud the outside exterior of the Gothic pillars while ivy cascades down the large door frames. Harris raises an eyebrow.

"How many forests do you think Wayne destroyed in his quest to save the planet?" He questions with a smirk.

Each grey hair is perfectly gelled out of his face. Ditching his glasses for the occasion, Dr. Harris may actually care about tonight's guests. The bouncer outside the door seemed to think the dress code was not a laughing matter.

Taking his extended arm, I roll my eyes. The security guy nods to the two of us as we walk through the door.

"Professor, if you keep saying things like that Gordon's going to question your stances on Gotham's resident Eco-terrorist. " I whisper with a smile. "....but at least 12."

Thanks to the joint collaboration between Wayne Industries, Goth-corp, and the Gotham Department of Environmental Protection. Gotham City is hosting its first Environmental Outreach Gala for the nearby tri-state area.

My heart flutters a little bit as a realization hits me. I’m actually here… surrounded by giants in clean energy and the scientific community alike. Award-winning journalists... All for the future of our planet. Passing my reflection, I smile thinking of how far I’ve come from that little river rat back at home.

A figure in the corner of my eye draws my thoughts away from the Grandma debrief. Dick Grayson, the Billionaire’s son, charms the group of ladies by his side. I take a mental note to find time to talk to him when there isn’t such a big crowd. It's been a long time since we last spoke.

The walls echo with the idle chatter coming from the rich socialites of Gotham. Waiters in tuxedos maneuver silently with a tray of champagne flutes in each hand. Considering, that most environmental professionals wear cargo pants from the early 2000s to work... the dress code was definitely a choice. I scan the room for familiar faces. Gordon flashes me a smile from across the room. I nod back. The Mayor works his way around the room with a large smile. It must be an election year.

My throat gets tight. I'm not ready for this. Looking to my right, I find that Dr. Harris has vanished into the crowd.

"Y/N L/N?" A voice calls distracting me from my nerves.

A well-dressed man strolls over. Something about him puts me on edge. Maybe it's his wicked smile or the large emerald ring on his outstretched hand. He walks with an easy air of confidence.

"Lex Luthor."

My heart does a little tap dance in my chest. The tight fabric of my rental dress makes it hard to breathe. I shake his hand politely. The party-goers go quiet around us. From the corner of my eye, Lois Lane, an investigative reporter from Metropolis, shoves through the crowd. So much for being a fly on the wall.

"I recently worked with a Professor of yours. She had a lot to say about your graduate proposal."

This cannot be happening. Memories of those long fights in the lab flash in the back of my mind. Mr. Luthor's cat-like gaze observes my reaction curiously.

I cover my face in embarrassment. That woman deserves hate mail. I could have at least been asked to type or spell-check it beforehand.

"To be frank, I originally chose the topic to get a rise outta her. Dr. Hendrix had me doing dishes for 3 weeks straight after I accidentally messed up a sample, so I wrote a proposal I knew she wouldn't like."

When I finally uncover my face, Luthor stares down at me with an amused grin.

"Even so. I'd like to discuss potential funding opportunities in Metropolis. If this is something you would think up out of boredom, I'd love to see what you can do when you put your mind to it."

That brings a smile to my face.

"Really? Everyone who I've brought it up to has been apprehensive about researching Kryptionian radiation.

"We need more scientists to ask questions Ms. L/N. Even the ones, that people don't want to know the answer to. "

The sullen green glow draws my eye once again to Mr. Luthor's ring finger... Wait, that's not an emerald. That's Kryptonite.

"Is this a personal interest of yours?" I ask slowly glancing between his eyes and his ring.

"In some ways."

An unspoken conversation occurs when he notices my acknowledgement of his strange choice of jewelry. The silence only creates more questions. Why would you wear something you know is irradiated?

"I hope to hear from you soon." Mr. Luthor concludes after handing me a business card, "There is always a spot at Lexcorp for a future scientist with your talents."

I stand there in silence watching him leave. The sleek modern design of the card lists only the bare essentials: his name, office address, and contact information in silver lettering.

Four hours ago, I was hauling boxes for the decorating committee. Huh. A nearby waiter offers a champagne flute from the tray. Respectfully, I turn them down. This dress costs more than my rent.

“Oh no. Thank you. I am… working.”

"Does work-life balance not apply to interns?” A voice interrupts.

I try not to roll my eyes at the "intern" comment. The constant reminders of my status are getting old. Starting at his perfectly buffed dress shoes, my gaze drags along the fabric of his black designer suit. Dick Grayson sure does like to make an entrance. With his dark curls and friendly blue eyes, his familiar smile knocks over my defenses. Sipping on his drink, he waits for my response with a teasing grin. His energy is contiguous. I ignore his question to ask my own instead.

“Has anyone told you that you tend to appear out of nowhere?”

His striking eyes light up with a mischievous glint.

“You have no idea.” He laughs, "It's nice to see you back in Gotham. It's been a long time."

"It has. From the rumors, you have been up to quite a bit of trouble." I joke gesturing to the envious eyes from across the room.

He raises a curious eyebrow.

“Good things I hope?”

Glancing around the room, I ignore the dozen eyes staring daggers in my direction. Academia can be such a bitch.

“Nothing too crazy: a few murders, unfounded accusations, and you might be an alien?”

Dick grimaces while tilting his head ever so slightly. He swirls his drink, yet doesn't take a sip.

“Sounds about right. Anything you believe? “

I pause... Do I play coy?

“I’m not sure an alien could do a quadruple summersault.”

Something flashes in his eyes that I don’t quite understand. For a moment, I wonder if I should have held my tongue. His suspicion morphs into the first genuine smile I've seen all evening.

“You’ve kept tabs on me Y/N.”

Before I can respond, a scream causes the ballroom to descend into chaos. Vines shoot out from under the floorboards while the native plants start attacking the guest. A woman with flaming red hair paces the floor. Her vines wrap around each person one by one…. A thorny bush springs out of a fallen leaf snagging my delicate rental dress.

Dammit Pamela. We talked about this.

Glancing at the bartender's horrified expression, I frown.

“I change my mind. I’ll have that drink now.”

[carmelitacreep]

An headcanon that I have about the Batboys:

Jason and Dick have a thing for redheads, and this is true both in fanon and canon,

some of Jason love interest in canon are: Barbara (yes, for some reason that is canon in some dc universe) and Artemis (the Amazon from outlaws). And in fanon: Roy and Koriand'r All of them are redheads

now Dick, in canon: Koriand'r and Barbara (again). In fanon: Wally Still, all of them redheads

so yeah, the first to robins have a thing for redheads, but the third and fourth (beacuse Steph is more like robin 3.5) have a thing for Kryptonians... let me explain

romantically in fandom, and in frienship in canon, Tim has Kon, and Damian has Jon and the fact that dc gave Jon a boyfriend, and the same goes to Tim, but that boyfriend isn't their bat/supes counterpart...

so yeah, this is my headcanon do what you want with it

[science-lings]

regardless of the answer, every single one of them get a moment where they realize that 'oh shit, I sound like my dad'

[jube-art]

Hi!! I really love your Kryptonian au. I’m just curious, what is Clark and Conner’s relationship like in this au? Another thought - would the bats be unsettled by the fact that Kon isn’t fully Kryptonian and has Tactile Telekinesis? Have a great day!

The greenhouse had plenty to do in it, for the four hours a day the refugees could sit in it without adverse reactions. Plenty of plants they hadn't seen before, plenty of plants they had. Food larger than even back home on Krypton, growing freely to take and eat whenever one of them had enough energy to reach out and grab them. The large windows shows a barren landscape of nothingness, of blinding white and snow that reminds Bru exactly of Kandor, back when Kandor still existed.

They were brought things, while they rested in the greenhouse, to keep them warm. Fluffy strange towels used to wash off the water that they were allowed to bask in- water abundant and clear and overflowing, circulating constantly, filled to the brim unlike anything Bru had seen before. Little strange things that gave off heat to warm their bones, chords coming off of them leading away into the main chamber, brightly colored and strange. Plush chairs to rest on, shade to hide away under when they started to get dizzy.

Daym was already asleep, snoring gently as he drifted. Te normally floated around, bouncing slowly off the sides of the water enclosure, but Jae, Dic, and Bru, towards the end of their time in the greenhouse, usually just talked.

Today, like most days, the topic was of their generous hosts, the members of the noble house of El.

"-I heard that Kon-El was a clone of Kal-El." Dic whispers to them, wrapped up in a thick bundle of fabrics and with his feet towards the little portable heat source. "Can you believe it?" Bru can, he watches them both, a bit farther away and talking in that strange, disjointed language they do. They look remarkably similar, more similar than Bru and Dyam do, even, it's not unusual for a leading political or scientific figure to be cloned to continue on their work after the original has passed. A little odd to have them be so close in age, of course, but if Kal-El really does have a whole, living breathing clone, so vividly well done, then this world truly is a paradise.

--

Clark and Kon have their canon, comic relationship of being strange Brother-Uncle-Nephew-Cousin things, and are relatively friendly with each other. As for the cloning, we're saying that it's not unusual on Krypton (because they're all pod people) for important figures to be cloned over and over again to continue on their work. (Similar to if we just continued to clone FDR and elect him president every four years.)

[arrowheadedbitch]

Someone to Tim: Oh please, Kon-El isn't scared of you! He's a kryptonian, and you're just some kid.

Kon, visibly scared: I didn't say that! Let it be known that i did not say that!

[radioactive-earthshine]

Re: Kryptonians and knots.

I need Konbart locked together and unable to respond in an emergency.

Kon: Sorry Tim, I cannot disengage in this uh… current activity.

Tim: What?

Bart: giggles.

Tim: Oh my God.

[impulseowlll]

*Bart comes running in the room* Bart: Hey, Tim! Have you seen my phone? *Tim looks up from his laptop* Tim: Hey, Bart. No I haven't seen your phone. Go ask our mother. Bart: Okay! *Bart runs into the other room* Bart: Hey, Mom, have you seen my phone? Connor: What did you just call me? Bart: Kon! I called you Kon! Connor: That's what I thought. No I haven't seen your phone, but I can call it. Bart: That would be great! Thanks,Mom! Connor: What did you just call me? Bart: Kon! I called you Kon! Tim from the other room: Super Awesome Mom says what? Connor: What?

[hyperblue]

okay listen

i need tim to be the softest dad possible

i need him to call his kid every pet name that's out there. i need tim to call his kid sunshine and darling and sweetheart and DUCKLING because you get it right?? because he's a drake and that's his little baby duck can't you see???

i need him to kiss his kid's forehead before bedtime without missing a single night. like no matter how tired he is, he might be only-running-on-his-fifth-cup-of-coffee-and-pure-spite type of exhausted but he WON'T leave his baby's side until he's completely sure they're fast asleep so he can tuck them safely and warm under the blanket that he bought for them IMMEDIATELY after they pointed at it ONCE at the store (it's a quilt blanket; it's blue; it has little golden stars on it)

i need him to work from home with his kid on his lap, talking to them softly, playing with their hair mindlessly. i need him to scoop them up in his arms every chance he gets 'cause they're growing so fast and they won't always be this tiny and one day he won't be able to hold them like this anymore; to hide them from the world on his chest

i need him to cry at his child's first steps, word. i need him to cry about being called "dad"

i need him to tell his kid that he loves them to the moon and back. to tell them that he won't let anything or anyone ever hurt them

i need him to say, "i will always be by your side"

"you can always rely on me"

"i will never leave you alone"

"are you okay, sweetheart? we can always leave if you want"

"you can't eat that, duckling, I'm sorry. you're allergic to peanuts remember?"

"just because I wasn't expecting you to be born does not mean that i love you any less, can you hear me?"

i just. i need him to be a soft dad. i know that he wouldn't be exactly like that realistically but a girl can have self-indulgent dreams sometimes

[punkeropercyjackson]

Percy Jackson is like your older brother's cool hot popular alt girlfriend that lets you come along on hangouts with her and him even though he's a dick to you and gives you sweets and free stuff and teaches you about punk culture(your older brother is Jason Todd)(you are Tim Drake)

[godofgarlicbread]

You know how superman ate bullets that one time cuz he thought they were jellybeans? What if kryptonians can't taste or have a very bad sense of taste with human foods?

If that's the case, Kon would have taste buds sensitive to strong tastes, so would Jon. This means, they either really love salty, sour, or spicy food, or just butter noodles.

Now, imagine Kon and Jon coming over to hangout with Tim and Damian. They get offered Alfred's food, Kon immediately puts a lot of salt on it or hot sauce while Jon asks for butternoodles instead. Kon would carry pocket hot sauce

[timblrdrake]

Afternoon Mr Drake-Wayne,

I understand you're considered quite a gifted little computer expert, especially in compsec. I've recently acquired @officialdailyplanet and I'm interested in branching into some more extreme investigative journalism.

Let me know if you would be interested in contracted work, and it's so wonderful to see you've truly bounced back after the unfortunate incident with your parents.

Lex Luthor he/they

hi there.

i’m interested, but i’m curious as to what you mean by ‘more extreme investigative journalism’. provided more details i’d consider it.

thank you.

[batfamdannyphantomsstuff]

Okay you wanna know what bothers me about a ton of us in the DC fandom? Connor Kent. He was short shafted so hard so much that if his buddy and life/chaos mate Tim went supervillain he wouldn't even question why, just where to aim because Tim and young Justice? Saw for the most part and accepted first he was just a little kid in a grown up body. He wasn't a CLONE of Luthor and Kal-el. He was a Child made of them. That's what a kid is Ffs. A human(ish) made with the genetics of two others as their donors. Not a copy of one or the other but of both mashed together. And the name Kara gave him? What the Fuck my guys. She named him "Unwanted of the House of Hope" what the fuck? Just, the rich ruling class of your original home world had designer babies most of all and yet you're going to be racist on how a Baby was created? Clark you didn't even grow up there, and I bet you my raccoon bone collection that Kal-els dad did Not include the pop culture packet or what the street food on the lower levels tasted like or like Kryptonian pop music since he was ramming all this scientific bullcrap onto the ship. Like no. Connor was just a child with as much or most definitely More Trauma than Clark had at having a Son made out of extra space splooge/blood with your 'Nemisis'

Side note anyone else remember the one 80s ish superman comic where we find out Clark had a Pincer on the end of his alien Dick or "latching on"