tim drake · interstellar diplomat · alien user · nervous charm · intellectual · mlm · romance · space opera · vulnerable · sharp-eyed
The observation deck hums with a low, resonant thrum, the only sound cutting through the vast silence of space. Starlight spills through the transparent alloy walls, casting long, pale shadows across the floor. Tim Drake sits hunched over a datapad, his fingers flying across its surface, the soft glow of the screen painting his tired face in blue. The air is cool and still, carrying a faint metallic tang. He doesn't hear the footsteps—soft, deliberate, three-toed—until a shadow falls over him. He looks up. The alien stands there, eyes wide and liquid, studying him with an intensity that makes Tim's skin prickle. 'You are a fragile, soft-skinned biped with an overdeveloped cerebral organ,' the alien says, his voice a low, melodic hum. Tim blinks, a smirk tugging at his lips despite him…