#omegaverse batfamily

[msfcatlover]

@alycat76: What’s the platonic a/b/o one about?

Okay, this is immediately going under a readmore, because I know plenty of people hate the very concept of A/B/O, and I don’t want to make them uncomfortable.

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SO! I have recently discovered that purely platonic A/B/O stories are actually something I kinda love. It’s about what it does to the setting, and the inter-character dynamics, and the incredibly intense hurt-comfort sickfics you can get out of it, and also I’m a sucker for empathetic bonds in fiction (people really don’t do enough with them.)

But there were some tropes that got repeated over & over again, while others I’d be interested in seeing just… never came up at all? And in the process of me spitballing what those fics would look like, I accidentally tripped and made a whole cohesive AU. Oops.

(Also, I saw like one person say, “What if betas could cancel out other smells as well as control their own,” in an ask somewhere, and proceeded to come up with a whole… thing that lets betas get in on all the sickfic & presentation fun that comes with this AU. It may or may not take up a full page of my notes. If anyone wants the specifics, just ask and I’ll post them.)

Anyway, the main pillars that this AU is built on are:

1. There are several fics where baby!Jay finds Robin in heat, knows full well how incredibly dangerous that is, and risks his own skin to hide Robin until either the heat passes or (most often) until Batman shows up. I love all of these. You know what I haven’t seen even once? Baby!Jason saving Dick Grayson in basically that same situation.

2. There are not enough fics where Bruce is a beta who uses his scent-control abilities to further separate his identities! *shoves my “Batman is just as much a public performance as Brucie Wayne” agenda into the very meta of this AU*

3. I am very fond of the “Jason’s big comeback plan goes completely off the rails” trope, especially when it comes in the form of needing to save a member of his family. I’ve seen a couple A/B/O fics with this premise with Tim. I have not seen any with Dick.

(Oh look, mirroring!)

4. It is here I realized why rut/heat-sickfics immediately became my drug of choice, and hey, if I’m gonna be projecting I might as well go all the way with it. *hands Dick a small mountain of medical complications on top of everything else*

5. My love of deceptive appearances (and the fact I have only found one (1) alpha!RH!Jason fic where I actually liked his part of it) means I am always going to default to omega!Jason.

6. So have you considered: Pack Alpha (by default) Tim? Oh, Bruce is still the Head of the pack, Tim doesn’t get to be automatically in charge or anything. But being the Pack Alpha comes with a whole host of extra instincts, which is only complicated further by the fact that as far as the rest of Gotham is concerned, when Tim first took on that role he wasn’t connected to the Wayne pack at all.

7. Hey, what do you think this particular arrangement does to Damian’s relationships with the family? Especially if we assume that, say, Talia refused to tell Damian their designations because it would be incredibly foolish to get a bunch of preconceived notions about the Bats just because of their secondary genders.

Things spiraled from there. I have, like, 10 drafts of both of those “Jason rescues Dick” fics, a whole bunch of fallout from Dick finding out Jason’s the Red Hood (some humorous, some not very much not,) Damian having a real rough time of it at the manor…

Here are my favorite story beats.

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Dick actually initially rescued himself from the kidnappers, but then he was barefoot in Crime Alley with a chemical heat coming on fast while they looked for him. Dick yanks Jason down into his hiding space behind a dumpster before the kidnappers see Jason. Once the kidnappers leave, Jason offers to let Dick hide with him until the heat passes. Jason’s squat even has running water, even though it’s cloudy & cold.

Jason at some point says something about wishing he could make the nest better for Dick (who is obviously used to nicer things, but trying to make the best out of it,) which is when Dick remembers the emergency cash sewn into his clothes (Bruce is paranoid enough and you know it,) and gives it to Jason to go get whatever he thinks would be best.

While Jason is at the store, he sees the news about Dick Grayson being missing, an obviously distraught Bruce Wayne pleading for anyone to call with information. Jason remembers how Dick kept saying that his dad would be so worried. Jason remembers what it was like to sit up at night, wondering when or if his mom was coming home. Jason takes a few coins of his change to a pay phone to call the number, just to reassure Bruce that Dick’s safe.

Jason definitely panics when Batman kicks the door in that night, because as far as Jason’s concerned a very large, angry alpha just barged in on the omega Jason was trying to help (Dick even used the stupid Batman print towel Jason bought for him as the base of the nest, how is this fair?) Bruce sees a frightened, packless child ready to throw hands with the fucking Batman in order to keep Dick safe. Dick refuses to leave without Jason, because Dick’s already adopted him.

-

All of Gotham knows Jason was more Dick’s puppy than Bruce’s. Bruce is still the one who legally adopts Jason, since Dick is like, 16 at this point (Jason’s 10-11).

There’s a lot of whispering about why Dick completely disappeared from the public eye after Jason died. Dick so obviously adored the kid, and the few pictures people do get look so miserable, that most Gothamites get aggressively offended on Dick’s behalf if you try to suggest he had anything to do with it. He’s not even 20 and he’s grieving. Cut the boy some slack.

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At some point after Tim becomes Robin, Dick needs to make a scene so he has an excuse to leave a party. After a quick check in to make sure Tim’s okay with it, a very drunk Richard Grayson proceeded to get on Janet Drake’s case about not appreciating the wonderful puppy she had waiting for her at home.

After helping him out of the room, Alfred came back to apologize for Master Grayson. “You’ll have to forgive him. It’s almost Jason’s birthday.”

In the greatest social blunder Janet ever made in her life (partially distracted by the wine stain on her new silver dress) she snapped out, “He’s still upset about that?”

(Fortunately for her, the room was loud enough that her voice didn’t carry far. But every conversation in a 20ft radius stopped dead. She did realize immediately and start to apologize, that came out wrong, oh god, she didn’t mean it like that!)

(Tim suggests Dick not antagonize Tim’s parents in the future after all.)

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This is actually the verse that first made me realize I wanted Tim to ask Steph to be Robin in his place, because in this verse they’re not just losing Robin, they’re losing their Pack Alpha with nobody to replace him. That is so much compounding trauma just from one member leaving the pack, but if Steph takes Tim’s place as Pack Alpha before Tim’s dad makes Tim cut himself out of the pack…

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(Cass & Alfred are both betas, for the record.)

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Dick has a bad reaction to the inducers the second time Jason has to save him. By the time Jason hauls Dick back to the nearest safehouse, Dick’s such an emotional mess that the only way Jason could ever calm Dick down is for Jason to reveal his identity and repair their pack bond.

Dick knows it’s Jason, because you can’t lie through the bond.

(Tim shows up at some point in the night, and refuses to leave.  “He said no alphas,” Jason snarls.  “I wouldn’t be much of one if I left him alone like this with a stranger,” Tim snaps back.) (Dick drags Tim into the nest too as soon as he realizes Tim is there.)

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Neither Dick nor Tim tell Bruce about Jason, because Jason made it clear he didn’t want Bruce to know. They do both proceed to hound Jason, trying to coax him back into the pack. Bruce is very uncomfortable with both of his sons being so determined to apparently befriend their newest rogue.

(I just have this delightful mental image of Nightwing dropping in on one of Red Hood’s meetings, saying he’s not there for trouble, framing it as an “I owe you for saving my skin” sort of thing. Before he leaves, Nightwing flashes his brightest smile at Hood. “By the way, Robin thinks you’re cool.”

Half of Jason’s goons die laughing as soon as they get over the shock.)

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Damian picks a fight with Tim because (despite Talia’s best efforts,) Damian did pick up several assumptions about the different designations. Tim was the next-newest, so Damian could cement his place in the pack by beating the lowest alpha, surely.

Damian realized his mistake as soon as Bruce arrived. The pack Head is a beta. The Second is an omega. Which means Damian just picked a fight with the Wayne Pack Alpha.

And—since Tim is still breathing, speaking, and glaring daggers at Damian—Damian lost.

(Tim meets Damian’s gaze for 10 agonizing seconds before turning away with a lift of his chin; dismissive, just like Ra’s would do. Damian’s just like, “I am so dead.”)

-

(I have a bunch of other stuff that’s pretty much Hurt No Comfort of Dick dealing with his medical problems & also how this particular set up would probably affect his various assaults, and how the trauma from those would then compound back into those medical problems. It’s… it’s not good. It’s not fun. I don’t think anyone wants to hear about that.)

(It does give Jason the chance to hunt down Catalina Flores, and gave me the chance to type the line, “I don’t think you understand. I’m not his friend. I’m not his boyfriend. I’m not even a hero. I’m his son.”)

[frownyalfred]

omegaverse batfamily is great and I've read so many of those platonic fics, but imagine a universe where it's just omega!Bruce wandering around screaming "NO!" every time a random pup pops up and tries to follow him home. he doesn't want to nest with them. he has 0 maternal instincts. he growls when they come near him. that doesn't seem to matter, they still want to nest with him. lonely pups see this energy from far away and say oh yeah, that's who I want to live with. that omega over there who knocked out all of that guy's teeth with one hit. he looks strong.

[nosyrobin]

I saw this was in your list of things to write but nobody's sent you an ask yet (I think) sooo...

How would an Omegaverse Batfam react if M!Sibling!reader presented as an Alpha/Beta/Omega? Would they be more protective if reader was an Omega? More like a sibling rivalry situation if they're an Alpha?

||OMEGAVERSE AU!BATFAM X BATBRO!READER||

A/N: thanks for requesting! Here’s your order. <33

ALPHA

If batbro was ever an alpha, which I hc that if the batfam was in omegaverse that all the boys would either be betas or alphas. If batbro was an alpha, there would definitely be some kind of rivalry between the boys and batbro. But never too serious. It would line wolves playfully roughhousing until one says “ima be the main alpha when blah blah blah dies.” Then it gets a little serious.

But other than that, it’s probably nothing much rather than the batfam making sure you don’t crash out and act crazy around omegas. Dick probably tries to make you do dates because he already found himself one from a hook up. You can deny all you want but really your older brother just wants you to be happy with your omega.

Jason probably warns you about real dangerous omegas he heard around when patrol as red hood, he probably puts a tracker on you.

Tim, he doesn’t care much since you are an alpha like the rest of the family. He’s a beta, he’s smart enough to know you can take care of yourself. But at the same time there are dangerous omegas that will try and drug his brother he cares for since he is a Wayne. So he puts a tracker onto you as well.

Damian tries hard to not care for you. He glares at you, he basically growls at you. Trying to put on a hard shell, but he can’t help but stand by you everytime. He’s an alpha, and to another alpha to another. The pack must protect each other.

BETA

If batbro was a beta, I feel like the family would be very normal about it. Not disappointed that their brother is not an alpha, but at least he’s a beta.

The family is so glad their brother is a beta since beta’s are practically human beings in the omegaverse. No rut/heat, no aggressive or submissive behavior that can lead to tragedies. Just pure normal behavior.

Though that doesn’t mean your alpha and beta brothers won’t be protective of you. Of course they’re protective of you! You’re the one that puts the brothers and family together like glue like Alfred. You’re sane, you’re calm, and you’re a beta. You’re the package they need to relax after a terrible patrol.

Neither the less, it’s pretty chill for batbro who’s a beta.

OMEGA

Oh boy..if batbro was ever an omega….the batfamily is so protective over their omega family member. Always making sure the omega male has suppressants on during heat season. If batbro was ever around an alphas that wasn’t any of the batfamily members, Jason and dick are immediately behind the omega trying to see if the alpha has any bad intentions. Alphas know another alpha. Especially Jason since he knows how alphas can get around omegas.

Damian wouldn’t hesitate to chop off any alpha’s head for his brother. And Tim, Tim doesn’t mind doxing and scaring a few alphas away from his brother.

Bruce, ooooh boy. Bruce would definitely go Batman mode if an alpha even dares to try and be aggressive to his poor omega of a son. Jason would even give the alpha a little red hood visit with a gun loaded in his hand. These two don’t play.

They always keep tabs on you, because in omegaverse being an omega is basically a death wish. But being in Gotham is even worse than a death wish itself. They don’t care if you trained to fight as well and can kick mean ass. There can still be people that can always beat batbro up so they just track him 24/7.

[suzukiblu]

I beg you desperately and with all the hope that makes a lump in my throat, may we please get some more Jason going home accidentally. My week is testing me aggressively and I'm tipsily seeking comfort.

I tried to write a bit of new content for this but tbh I did not have the spoons or the focus to manage it, so instead here's the whole current story-so-far all put together and all in order behind the cut here, since even the "chrono" tag for this story is not really all that chronological and I'm, like, eighty-five percent sure that there's gotta be at least a COUPLE excerpts in here that haven't gone up yet. If nothing else, I know there's some little bits and pieces I've added or adjusted in editing, and hopefully it'll be a satisfying read to get all in order and all together for . . . quite possibly the first time, yeah, hah.

Well, it's 16.5k, if nothing else, haha.

Sorry for the day or two's wait on getting back to you with this; hope your week's improved, friend.

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Jason fucked up his suppressants somewhere in fucking Barbados, of all places, and by "fucked up" he means "lost in a firefight". 

So that was a problem, definitely. 

He'd had two days before it was going to be a serious problem, though, and a lot of bad guys to deal with before he could deal with said problem. But it would've been fine, if there hadn't been a local supply chain issue with omega suppressants. 

Or it would've been fine if he hadn't been with Roy and Kori at the time. If he hadn't been with two unfairly gorgeous alphas that he'd been relying on to watch his ass for months, who'd both saved his life and carried him out of the shit more than once; who'd both looked at him like he was a real and actual person, still, and had never once been disappointed in the kind of real and actual person that he really and actually was. 

Or maybe just if he hadn't known damn well just how fat both their knots were from Dick's goddamn locker room gossip when he'd been a fucking stupid and stupidly impressionable not-dead-yet teenager. 

Dick was a goddamn beta, the bastard. He shouldn't have even known how good Tamaranean knot supposedly was! That should not have been a thing! 

Jason, unfortunately, had been gifted with an absolute whore with absolutely no shame for a predecessor, and so had spent his accidentally suppressant-free time thinking far, far too much about Dick's goddamn dumbass war stories from his Titans days and exactly how many of them had ended with "and then Kori blew my fucking back out and it was the fucking shit". 

The bastard. 

So yeah, Jason had gone into a stress heat after two lousy missed doses of suppressants, because of fucking course he had! Of fucking course that was his fucking life! 

And of fucking course said stress heat had happened while he was laying low in a bare-bones safehouse with Roy and Kori and a California king and absolutely no other methods of distraction. 

Of course it had. 

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"Do you require assistance, friend?" Kori asks, and Jason probably could answer her verbally, but instead he just very literally climbs her and refuses to get down until she promises to blow his fucking back out. And really, he only actually gets down at all because Roy is standing just slightly out of reach and Jason very, very desperately needs to get his mouth on him. 

Just–desperately. 

"Oh–both of us?" Roy manages, his face going bright red. 

"Both of you at once," Jason growls, and then tackles him to that damn California king. Kori is clearly delighted.

Jason is pretty damn delighted too, once he’s gotten both their knots in him. 

Dick had not been exaggerating the locker room talk. If anything, he'd undersold things. Roy was so fucking careful and thorough and Kori was so fucking confident and relentless and Jason was . . . Jason was . . . 

Actually Jason might be in love, maybe? It's possible that this is what being in love is. Like, as a thing. 

Or whatever. 

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So Jason had spent a week getting fucked so good that even the pit hadn't had any complaints, and then it'd been back to business as usual for the next couple of months and he hadn't thought about it again outside of his personal time, and maybe once or twice when Roy or Kori had stepped in a little too close or made casual eye contact or just smiled at him like they were actual friends or something, the utter bastards. But otherwise, yeah, no. Business as usual. 

And some very vivid and imaginative new sex dreams and stupid romantic daydream fantasies not as usual. 

But again: whatever. That crap was Future Jason's problem. Current Jason is busy shoving alllll of that inconvenient emotional shit into a nice helpful repression box and just leaving it there to rot, and that’s just gonna be that. 

And no, he isn't reading romance novels again. Shut the fuck up, Roy. It’s Pride and Prejudice, not goddamn bored housewife smut. 

Admittedly, the bored housewife smut might've actually been less embarrassing than the romantic yearning, especially when Kori asks him what his new book’s about and Jason already knows that Roy knows it well enough that he'll be able to tell if he bullshits her, but whatever. 

Last time he watches that stupid A&E miniseries with the prick, no matter how damn good Colin Firth looks in a wet shirt. 

Ugh. 

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"We need to talk," Roy says while standing in the middle of a kill floor with a trick arrow nocked and a stranger's blood all over his face. Jason wants to kiss him. Or kill him. Or maybe do both of those things at once? Maybe? But like–biohazards. "Like, about our feelings. Specifically the specific feelings that I am specifically having about the two of you and your specific feelings." 

"Oh!" Kori says with a bright smile as she lights up with both visible delight and destructive solar radiation. She is also very kiss/kill-able right now, Jason thinks, though the radiation thing could also be an issue. "Well, my specific feelings are that you and I should mate our lovely Jason at his earliest possible convenience and then consummate said mating under the stars. Repeatedly. I have refreshed my knowledge of the appropriate Earth customs, so do you think Lian would rather be the flower-bearer or the ring-girl?" 

"I'm going back to Gotham," Jason blurts in panicked self-defense. 

"Is that an invitation or an escape route?" Roy asks, raising an eyebrow at him. 

"I'm going back to Gotham right now," Jason says, which he understands is not an actual answer but is still not going to clarify any more than that. Then he flees the kill floor. He flees the kill floor very, very quickly.

Repression box time. 

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So yeah, Jason ditches them both in Prague and heads back to Gotham the long way. He doesn't answer when Roy tries calling his burner, though he does text their very small group chat a vague confirmation that he isn't dead again yet a day or three later. Kori immediately sexts him in response, but he's pretty sure that she just still thinks that's how texting works. 

Look, he hasn't corrected the misassumption. 

Fuck, she is just unfairly attractive all the time, though, isn't she. And even more so when he's desperately trying to avoid her and also his emotions. 

Roy also sexts him, and is also unfairly attractive despite being who he is as a person. Then the two of them get distracted sexting each other instead, and Jason just lets himself pretend that they can't see his "read" receipts as he follows along. 

So he hadn't been all that subtle about how much of a turn-on it'd been the handful of times that they'd gone at each other during his heat despite both being alphas, okay? Sue him. Who the fuck could've been? Not fucking Dick, that's for fucking sure. 

Jason is pretty sure that he will never again see anything as mind-meltingly, panty-soakingly hot as the sight of Roy taking Kori's big fat knot in Jason's own damn heat nest and whining for it in his alpha voice while she so-sweetly told him what a good bitch he was being for her. Just–nope. No. Definitely not. 

Jason didn't even know alpha voices could whine like that. Like, he had not been any kind of aware that was an actual thing that an actual alpha voice could actually do. 

Also they were both a lot more flexible than he'd ever really let himself think about too much before. 

And had a lot more . . . endurance. 

So that'd all been very extremely destructive to his sanity, yeah. And his higher thought processes. 

And just his . . . everything, pretty much. Pretty much his everything, yeah.

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Kori and Roy keep sexting the group chat with annoyingly helpful visual aids until Jason has to stop in a shitty motel just outside of Gotham and fuck himself stupid for a few hours, because they're the literal worst teammates in the literal entire world and he hates them both and also he wants both their stupid fucking knots in him right fucking now and Lian can be the flower-bearer and the ring-girl as far as he's concerned, he doesn't even care. 

Bastards. 

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Jason catches up with the group chat, takes a very, very cold shower, and then drives the rest of the way towards Gotham. He does not check his phone even one more time, because knowing Roy and Kori he'd probably crash his fucking bike if he did. 

He doesn't think about any fucking romance novel bullshit either. 

It's weird that he misses them already, isn't it? He doesn't usually miss people this quick. At least, not these days. He's gotten too used to being stray for that. 

He's been a stray for so fucking long, it feels like, and he just . . . 

Fuck, he can't even remember the last time he had real packscent on him. Which, well–yeah, of course he can't. That would imply having a pack, wouldn't it. 

He thinks it was Alfred's scent, the last time. 

It must've been. 

He misses Alfred, too. 

Maybe he'll swing by the manor in a few days, once he's settled back into the swing of things in the city and he's shown his face in a few key places and made sure nobody's fucked too much with his territory while he was away. Maybe Alfred's missed him a little himself. Maybe the others won't mind him taking up a little bit of space in their space for an hour or two. Maybe Bruce will . . . 

Fuck, is he high or something? What, exactly, does Jason think Bruce is going to do if he sees him, besides say something shitty to him about how he handles his territory or lives his life or just whatever else? 

Maybe he'll drag his ass back to Ethiopia again. 

Yeah, that'd be a great time. Real fun for the whole family. 

Not that they're any kind of family anymore. 

Bruce doesn't want them to be. Doesn’t want a blooded killer or Crime Alley trash for one of his pack's omegas. Doesn't want to explain Jason being alive or help him establish a cover identity that they could somehow know each other through or publically claim him or do just . . . anything like that. Red Hood has a comm link that can connect to the Bat pack's devices and conditional access to their intel as long as he hasn't either killed anyone or freaked out on pit rage too recently and nothing else. 

He isn't family. 

He isn't pack. 

Hell, even when Jason had been pack to Bruce, it'd only been the two of them and Alfred and the occasional semi-grudging visit from Dick. Nothing like it is now, with more goddamn Bats than a belfry. Now there's Tim and Cass and Steph and Damian and . . . 

Jason knows perfectly well that there isn't a place for him in that pack, much less in the manor. There isn't even a place for him in the cave, unless some absolute asshole decides to count that bullshit memorial. 

Maybe he should tell Bruce how much he fucking hates that memorial, one of these days. Not like Bruce would care, but . . . just–maybe he should. 

One of these days. 

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Jason is distracted, he thinks. Or not thinking, maybe? 

Or just very fucking stupid, maybe. 

There's literally no other reason he would've just driven his bike up the road to goddamn Wayne Manor first thing into Bristol. Which . . . whatever, he's not in Red Hood's gear right now, that's all packed away in his go-bag, but still. He knows better than to pull this kind of shit. 

He's not welcome at the manor. He doesn't deserve to be. Not after what he's done. What he's become. What he is. 

And even if he ever were welcome, he still wouldn't belong here. 

Jason wants so, so fucking badly for that not to be true. 

But it is true, of course. It's always been true. 

Always was true. 

Jason parks his bike outside the front gate and checks the group chat. Roy and Kori are–mostly–done sexting and are talking about flowers, the fucking weirdos. Like they'd even bother having a ceremony if they actually did get mated. Who'd even care? 

Not anyone on his side of the goddamn aisle, that's for fucking sure. And what, they're gonna invite Blackfire and Green Arrow? 

Yeah, no. Definitely not. 

Jason thinks about the absolutely ludicrous idea of texting his opinion on mating ceremony flowers to the chat, but doesn't. 

He feels . . . off, kind of. Restless. Nervous. Nauseous. 

Like fucking crying his fucking eyes out until he fucking dies. 

Again. 

He really misses Alfred. It's a little late–late enough that he's definitely missed dinner, but not really late enough to interfere with anyone's patrol schedule. He could just . . . duck in for a bit. Check in. See what the old man's been up to and catch up on the pack gossip like he actually deserves to know any of it. 

Maybe Alfred would let him sneak into the cookie jar like he always pretends he isn't gonna. 

Jason still remembers every single goddamn cookie recipe Alfred ever let him help him with back in the day, but somehow not a one of them has ever tasted the same as they do when he's sneaking them out of that stupidly fancy old cookie jar or off a cooling rack on one of Alfred's immaculate kitchen counters. Not even close. 

Jason really wants one of those cookies right now. And also Alfred. And also . . . 

And also he wants to be fifteen and afraid of absolutely nothing, with Bruce's pack bite on his neck and Robin's cape around his shoulders and the certainty of having a place, of being something, being someone, being . . . 

Belonging. 

Like he thinks he has the fucking right to, or something. 

He texts the group chat. 

i am the stupidest motherfucker alive or dead, he says. 

fuck u zomboy thats my crown n i will fight u 4 it, Roy says. 

are you well, loveliest? Kori asks, and thoughtfully includes a shot of her tits, which are as irritatingly resplendent as ever. Especially because her come is currently smeared all over them, but Jason's just gonna have to process that particular image a little bit later, when he's not having a weird emotional crisis in the manor driveway over fucking cookies. 

Though he saves the pic to come back to for said "later", obviously. He's having a crisis, yeah, but he's not an idiot. 

i want a cookie, he says. 

. . . like in a sexy way or in an emotional regression way?? Roy says. 

i fucking hate your new therapist

regression it is ok!! well u gotta b in gotham by now right?? go c ur man alfie n ask him 4 the hookup

go to hell and burn there

Roy sends him a dick pic in response, probably so Kori won't wonder why they aren't being as porny as usual and start to emulate them. Jason grudgingly saves it for later too and also fucking hates him. 

we can provide you with all the emotional regression cookies you wish, loveliest, Kori says, including a very nice shot of her half-blown knot that makes Jason's traitor of a mouth water. He glazes over briefly and really hopes Babs isn't creeping on the cell phone towers yet tonight. He's almost sure that wasn't actually meant to be a come-on, but . . . we would be most appreciative of the opportunity to satisfy your desires.

Never mind. Definitely a come-on. 

. . . almost definitely. 

It is Kory. 

Jason saves the new pic, obviously, and then sighs to himself. 

if you never see me again, it was possibly tim but probably damian who did me in, he types out resignedly. in which case, either fair or fair play

k but what if it was dick tho?? Roy asks. 

then i want you to burn down this whole fucking city in my fucking name, Jason says. 

it would be our honor, loveliest, Kori says hopefully not too sincerely. 

Then again, "burned down by a sexy alien on a vengeance bender" is a lot better of an end than Gotham really deserves at this point. And anyway, Jason's not gonna tell Kori how to live her life. 

He puts his burner away and looks up at the manor. The lights are on, obviously. It's getting dark, so why wouldn't they be? 

He still really wants that stupid cookie. 

Jason sighs again, then gets off his bike. He'll just go up and knock, and if no one's too busy to answer then he'll just . . . go in for a little while. That's all. He has a key, technically, but he's never fucking used it and he's never fucking going to, outside of maybe a possible life or death or global crisis-level emergency. 

This isn't his home. Not anymore. 

So yeah. He's not gonna use the damn key. 

Jason walks up to the door. It smells like Bruce has touched it. Not especially recently–not any more recently than this morning, at least–but still. It smells like Bruce has touched it. 

Which it obviously would. It always does. Bruce is the pack alpha, after all. He scents this door all the damn time. It's always smelled like him. This stupid fucking door has smelled like it belongs to Bruce for a lot longer than Jason ever got to. 

It smells like Alfred has touched it too. And Dick, and Damian, and Duke, and . . . 

Fuck, he can even smell traces of Selina on it. 

No trace of himself, though. 

He hasn't been in Gotham, Jason reminds himself. He hasn't been in Gotham and he doesn't belong in the manor anyway and this isn't his home anymore. So it shouldn't hurt, that this stupid fucking door doesn't smell like him. It really shouldn't. 

It shouldn't, but . . . but he still feels off, kind of, and he just . . . he isn't really . . . 

He feels off. Really, really off. 

The door is really bothering him. And he really wants a cookie. And . . . and something . . . 

Something's wrong. He's forgetting something. 

Is he forgetting something? 

Jason frowns to himself and pulls out his burner again. Checks the notes app. Checks his calendar. Checks his . . . 

Wait. 

Jason stares at his apps. 

Stares at his cycle tracker, which he hasn't opened all month. 

Or all of last month. 

Stress heat, he reminds himself abruptly. Stress heats throw off people's cycles all the time. And he's never been all that regular anyway, really, especially since dying and getting dumped in the pit. 

Except he's been being an overemotional absolute fucking lunatic for weeks now and he already misses Roy and Kori after three lousy days and he came to the fucking manor without even fucking meaning to and . . . 

Fuck. 

Fuck. 

Jason, very calmly, unlocks the front door with the key he's never once used. Then he bolts into the manor and beelines for the second-nearest bathroom, because Bruce is always over-prepared and that's the one where they always used to keep the pads and tampons and birth control and fucking pregnancy tests. 

And still is, apparently. 

Jason finds a test. He takes the test. 

He sits down to wait for the test. 

He doesn't think a single damn thing, because it'd be pointless. He doesn't have all the information. No point in catastrophizing when he doesn't even know anything yet. 

So he doesn't think. 

.

.

.

The timer on Jason's phone flashes. He looks at the test. 

It's positive. 

And if it's accurate, then doing the math, "bred" has got to be bleeding into his scent by now. Which Roy and Kori were probably already subconsciously noticing at least a week ago, so no fucking wonder they've been talking about their fucking feelings in the middle of fucking kill floors and saying they want to fucking mate him and won't stop sexting and fussing over him. 

Shit. 

He's pregnant. He's pregnant and he probably fucking smells pregnant and he's in the fucking manor like this. 

He really is the stupidest motherfucker alive or dead. 

. . . and he's pregnant. 

.

.

.

Jason snaps the test in half and buries it in one of the hidden scent-blocked pockets at the bottom of his go-bag and just . . . thinks. Or tries to think, anyway. He's pregnant, and he was stupid enough to let himself come to the manor like he's actually a part of this pack–like he's a fucking traditionalist or a romantic coming home to present his pack with his pups and nest up with them all safe and protected until he whelps. Like this pack would even want his pups, much less want to put up with him and all his bullshit for that long. 

God, he's such an idiot. 

He should've fucking known. He should've just gone to the opposite side of the goddamn planet and denned down there and blocked Roy and Kori's numbers and deleted all the Bats' and broken his phone for good measure. He should've paid more attention to taking his birth control on time while he was on the road and not begged Roy and Kori to knot him raw for his heat no matter how good it'd felt. He should've . . . he should've . . . 

He should've . . . 

Jason paces from one end of the bathroom to the other. He paces back the other way. He thinks about panic-texting Roy and Kori for advice or sneaking out to get an abortion before anyone can find out he's bred or never telling anyone this happened ever or running away to Talia or having a fucking anxiety attack on the fucking bathroom floor. 

He thinks, very briefly, about going and presenting the pack with his pups. Like he's an absolute fucking moron or something. 

But he thinks about it, and once he's thought about it . . . once he's considered it . . . 

Jason twists his hands together. Jason paces the bathroom. Jason grits his teeth. 

Jason thinks about presenting the pack with his pups. Presenting the Wayne pack with his pups. 

Not the Bat pack. 

His hands fist against his sides. His shoulders tighten. 

His stomach does nothing except for what it's already doing, which is carry a pup or two or . . . however many. Jason was a single, he semi-reliably knows. Roy was . . . maybe a single? He's pretty sure? And he only sired Lian on Cheshire, at least as far as Cheshire ever admitted to anyone. But Kori and Komand'r and Ryand'r were a litter of three, right? Or Jason thinks they were, anyway. 

Probably asking Kori about that right now would be suspicious. Or at the very least give her and Roy the wrong idea about Jason's opinion of them all actually getting mated. 

Not that it'd actually be the wrong idea so much as . . . 

Fuck, who even knows which one of them actually knocked him up. Maybe both of them did–that happens sometimes, with omegas. Especially when the potential sires are alphas. Technically he thinks it's even possible for female betas, though that's a hell of a lot rarer and really more of a–

Just, Jesus, what in actual hell is Jason gonna do if he ends up whelping a half-alien kid in Gotham? Or if he has to explain to Lian that she's not her daddy's only pup anymore? Or if–

Jason pictures a sweet little redheaded newborn all nestled up to his chest, maybe softly glowing and floating or adorably stupid and wickedly clever or just ridiculously tiny and defenseless and all those other things all at once, and feels far, far too many feelings about the idea. His heart fucking hurts with how many feelings he feels about that fucking idea, in fact. 

Alright. Ruled out sneaking out to get an abortion, apparently. 

Dammit. 

Jason can't actually be a real mom, though. He can't protect a pup with his lifestyle, much less properly raise one. Catherine at least tried even in the worst of her addiction, but that doesn’t mean she was in any place to actually do all that good a job, and Sheila was just an absolute piece of shit as both a dam and a person, and those are his only examples so far as "mothering" behavior goes because he is just not emotionally prepared to ever count Selina–and not even because of her actually being an alpha and therefore more the "fathering" type or all the times he tried to get her arrested back in the day. So just–just how would he ever know how to be a mom for some poor stupid kid who'd probably be just as much of a mouthy, difficult brat as he'd always been? How would he know how to be a mom for a kid genetically crazy enough to jack the fucking Batmobile's tires? How?!

Maybe . . . maybe Roy would want them, though, or . . . or something. He wants Lian even though she's Cheshire's, after all. And like, Jason is also a fucking murderer, yeah, but he’s at least never done it for the fucking money. And who knows, maybe Kori would want them herself, if they were hers. Like–that might be a thing, for all he knows. She’s got worse people than him in her immediate nuclear family, for fuck’s sake. She might not care about the pup having a dam like him any more than Roy probably would. 

Jason would have to actually ask to know if either of them would actually want a pup that was half him, of course, which just sounds like some fresh fucking hell right there. Just . . . absolute and total hell, yeah. 

If they didn’t, though . . . well, he couldn't put the pup up for adoption unless he was absolutely sure they weren't Kori's, given the whole alien superpowers and horrible genetic experiments issue, obviously, but that's what DNA tests are for, right? And even if they were, he could probably– 

. . . wait, fuck, does he maybe have, like–alien royalty in his gut right now? Is that an actual concern that he has to actually be concerned about? 

Fuuuuuck, it really might be. 

Well, that'd be fun to explain to Bruce. 

. . . not that Jason is actually going to be explaining any of this to Bruce, of course. Ever. Just–fuck that, fully and completely. 

Please let Tamaran as a whole just not care about this pup, like, ever. Just–never. Please. 

Please. 

They shouldn’t, at least, because why the hell would they? Jason is slightly undead and fully murderous Crime Alley trash with no prospects and no legal identity and no pack that would ever claim him. There isn't a single planet in this or any galaxy that would be happy about hearing one of its princesses knocked up someone like him. Best-case scenario, they just cut the kid out of the line of succession completely and never ever ask them to visit. 

Maybe he should just be hoping it's Roy's pup. Or pups. Or whatever. 

Still could be Roy and Kori's pups, of course. That's still a disaster that could very easily be happening right now. 

Jason tries to imagine raising a pup that knew they were superpowered alien royalty alongside a completely human pup that knew that their sire already had another pup and just . . . does not want to deal with that particular potential parenting minefield. Ever. 

Fuck, talk about sibling rivalry. And that without even considering Komand'r being in the family tree. Or him and his whole . . . everything with Tim, basically. 

Please, please let the universe at least have the mercy to let this pup be a single, Jason prays. He just seriously can't have any more attempted fratricide or whatever in the not-technically-family.  He really can't deal with that. He's hit his lifetime limit. He's done. Finished. All wrapped up. Tapped out. 

Or he's currently carrying the second coming of Cain and Abel. Whichever. 

Fuck his life. 

Jason exhales. Inhales. Tries not to panic or catastrophize or freak the fuck out. Really, really wants an Alfred cookie. 

Really wants Alfred. Alfred could fix this. Alfred could make this better. Alfred could–could– 

Jason wants Alfred. Jason wants– 

Jason exhales. 

Inhales. 

Jason . . . 

.

.

.

Jason catches a scent. Jason . . . follows the scent. 

Yes. He follows the scent. The scent is what he wants. The scent will make things better. The scent will . . . 

Jason leaves the bathroom. Crosses the foyer. Goes down the hall. Heads into the back of the house, where everything smells like tea and coffee and sweet, sweet things. 

And like a very calm and steady and nurturing beta. 

A very specific calm and steady and nurturing beta. 

Jason walks into the kitchen. There's a couple of other packmates at the table; he ignores them. He loves them, obviously, but they're not who he's here for. 

Grandpa is standing at the counter, pouring tea. It smells nice. Soothing. Sweet. 

Not as nice as Grandpa's soft and steady pheromones, though. 

"Master Jason, what a pleasant surprise," Grandpa says, setting down the tea to smile at him in a way that makes Jason feel very, very warm and very, very overwhelmed. "I didn't even hear you knock. Would you like a cup?" 

Jason is vaguely aware that he should say something that counts as an actual response to . . . any of that, he guesses. 

He really doesn't care, though. He just drops his go-bag full of Red Hood's gear and all his useless weapons and the snapped-in-half pregnancy test on the kitchen floor and heads straight over to Grandpa and ducks his face down to bury in his neck and breath in his scent. Soft. Steady. 

Pack. 

"Master Jason, are you–" Grandpa starts, sounding alarmed, and Jason grabs his hand and puts it on his own stomach and just–

Purrs. 

Grandpa inhales. Gets Jason's scent too, Jason assumes. 

And chokes, very quietly. 

"Jason," he says, sounding absolutely wrecked, and Jason purrs again. 

"Holy crap," a packmate says disbelievingly. It's–Little Brother. Not Pup Brother or New Brother or Big Brother. Little Brother, who smells like too much coffee and not enough sleep and sounds very surprised about something, and–unsurprisingly–has a laptop set up on the table in front of him. 

"Alfred, oh my god, I have literally never heard you say a single one of our names without a ‘Miss’ or a 'Master' or anything attached, is Jason fucking dying?" the other packmate at the table demands worriedly. Loud Sister–not Quiet Sister. Loud Sister smells like less coffee than Little Brother and a rush of nervous energy and also sounds very surprised. Jason wonders why. 

Well, it's not really important, he guesses. 

"Present," he croons lowly, pressing Grandpa's hand tighter against his stomach, and Grandpa puts his other hand on the back of Jason's neck and squeezes it very, very tight. 

It feels nice. 

Jason purrs again. 

"Ohmygod," Loud Sister chokes. 

"Jason," Grandpa says again, his voice all rough and aching as his fingers splay against Jason's stomach just where the pup should be. Or . . . pups? Maybe pups, yeah. More would be better, right? Lots of pups for the pack. 

And lots of grandpups for Alpha. 

That would be nice, Jason thinks, purring louder. 

Jason nuzzles Grandpa's throat and leans down into him. Grandpa swallows. Tightens his grip on the back of Jason's neck. It still feels nice. 

Jason thinks . . . it's been a long time, he thinks, since someone held his neck like this. 

Too long. 

"Okay, so he's definitely feral right now," Little Brother says. "And not in the pit rage way." 

"Ohhhhh so very feral right now," Loud Sister agrees. Jason wonders who they're talking about, but isn't really worried about it either way. They're all in the pack den. They're all safe. So if somebody in the pack is feral right now, they can just ride it out here and they'll be fine. So it's fine. "But he came here? Like . . . I'm not being crazy, right, he's presenting his pup to us right now, isn't he? Like–really presenting it to us?" 

"Well, to Alfred," Little Brother says. "But uh . . . yeah, I think so." 

"Grandpa," Jason says contentedly, squeezing the back of Grandpa's hand again. Grandpa makes a choked noise. "Great-Grandpa." 

"Fuck, I think I kinda wanna cry," Loud Sister says. 

"Would you like to . . . nest, perhaps? Master Jason?" Grandpa asks carefully, clearing his throat. Jason considers the question. Nest means warm. Safe. Good things for the pup. Or pups? 

Whichever. 

"Nest," he agrees contentedly, nuzzling Grandpa's throat again. His scent is so nice. Jason's missed it so, so much. 

Jason missed Grandpa's scent before he ever even knew it existed, he thinks. 

"Then would you prefer your bedroom or the front living room for it? Or . . . somewhere else?" Grandpa asks even more carefully. Jason considers again. The bedroom would be easier to defend. Smaller. Harder for the pack to come visit, though. More out of the way. And if he needed backup, they'd be farther off. The front living room is right up by the foyer, though. Easy for everyone to check in when they come home or before they leave. Lots of room for them all to fit in it, too. He can't really think of a better option for that. 

"Living room," Jason decides. Grandpa makes another choked noise. 

"Of course, Master Jason," he says, his voice all tight. "Please come with me.” 

Jason purrs. 

Grandpa takes his hand and takes him to the front living room. Jason knows where it is, obviously, but it's nice being taken anyway. Grandpa wants him to nest. Grandpa wants his pups. He thinks Jason did good and he's pleased with him for doing good. 

Good, Jason thinks. 

"I'll just be a moment, Master Jason," Grandpa says thickly, then ushers him through the door and leaves him in the living room. Little Brother and Loud Sister linger in the foyer, Little Brother’s laptop tucked under his arm. Jason didn't even notice them following them. 

Well, it's helpful that they did. 

"Pillows," he tells them matter-of-factly because there aren’t really very many nesting pillows in here, and then starts fussing over the blankets draped over the couch as they both share a brief glance before heading off, hopefully in search of the requested pillows. 

The pup definitely needs pillows, Jason knows. And his nest definitely needs pillows, too. 

It won’t be big enough, if there aren’t more pillows. 

.

.

.

Jason turns the front living room upside down and most of the assorted blankets and pillows that he finds in it smell like pack, so they're good, but a couple smell more like Pup Brother's suitors, so those ones Jason tosses out into the foyer. Pup Brother's suitors are . . . fine, he guesses? But not for his nest. 

"What on earth are you doing in there, Todd?" Pup Brother himself asks, eyeing the crumpled blankets on the foyer floor. Quiet Sister is standing beside him and looks excited, leaning forward towards the doorway on her tiptoes. Jason didn't hear them coming, but he wasn't all that worried about listening for anyone either. Also, they're both very quiet when they move anyway. 

"Nest," he says. He doesn't think he's being all that subtle here, but Pup Brother didn't get a traditional pack upbringing, he knows. At least, not the kind that allowed for nesting. That's not really how the League works. 

He definitely never nested when he was with the League. 

". . . nest?" Pup Brother asks, and just a little hinted flash of curiosity crosses the back of his eyes for a moment. Does Pup Brother ever build nests, Jason wonders? He's an omega too. He should learn how, if he hasn't yet. 

"Nest," he repeats firmly, then gestures beckoningly with a blanket that smells acceptably of packscent. Nobody specifically stronger than anybody else; just an easy tangle of a whole mess of different packmates all mixed in together. Pup Brother frowns, looking confused. 

Nest! Quiet Sister signs delightedly before giving Pup Brother an encouraging push into the living room. She doesn't come in herself, though. Which–Quiet Sister is an alpha, of course, so that makes sense. Jason just wasn't sure if she'd know the etiquette, all things considered. 

Well, he isn’t sure if Pup Brother does either, really, but that’s fine. He’s the one who’s supposed to teach Pup Brother that kind of thing anyway. 

"Er," Pup Brother says doubtfully, glancing between them. "Do you require . . . assistance, Todd?" 

Jason dumps an armful of throw pillows on him, then starts demonstrating how to arrange them on the floor. Pup Brother frowns again, holding the unused pillows in his arms and observing the building process intently. Jason’s pleased by that. Pup Brother should learn this. Pup Brother should learn this, so he's showing Pup Brother this. So he's being good! Very good. A good omega. Yes! 

They're both being good. 

So that's good. 

Jason purrs some more. Quiet Sister flutters her hands happily, still waiting in the doorway. Jason wants to invite her in, but really needs to get the nest more established first. 

He'll let her in the nest itself, he already knows. Once it's done, obviously. Quiet Sister probably hasn't really been in a nest before–Pup Brother is the only other omega in the pack, after all, and she doesn't have an omega mate or any omega friends, so when would she have? 

. . . unless she's still courting that weird flirty omega from Little Brother's other pack, maybe? The sort-of-alien-sort-of-human one that makes cloud castles and almost drowned with her in a basement that one time or whatever. Whatever his name is. 

Or . . . wait, was Little Brother the one courting him? 

Hm. 

Well, maybe they both were. Jason isn't really sure, come to think. 

He'll ask later, he decides, and lays down some more throw pillows. Either way he's still inviting Quiet Sister into his nest once it's done. Quiet Sister deserves all the nests she can get. 

Jason hopes she'll like his. 

He finishes with the throw pillows and starts looking for more blankets. Grandpa is back in the doorway with a whole stack of them, which is very conveniently timed and therefore very Grandpa. 

"I was not aware that Todd could become feral without invoking the pit," Pup Brother says skeptically. 

"I suppose maternal instinct has somewhat superseded its effects for the time being," Grandpa replies with a wry, warm smile, looking a bit misty-eyed. Jason purrs at him again, then takes the stack of blankets and starts shaking them out and sorting through them for suitability. They all smell good–all smell like pack. 

"‘Maternal instinct’?" Pup Brother repeats blankly. 

"That seems to be why Master Jason is here tonight, Master Damian," Grandpa says. "He is presenting us with his pup." 

"He–oh!" Pup Brother says, his eyes widening as Quiet Sister beams. "I didn't–realize. Er. Should I be . . . in here?" 

Jason teach, Quiet Sister signs. Pup Brother looks flustered. Damian learn.

"Oh," Pup Brother says just a little weakly. "I–er. Yes. Very well." 

Jason purrs at him too, then resumes sorting the new blankets. This one smells like New Brother, and this one smells like Big Brother and his mate, and this one . . . 

Oh. 

Jason . . . pauses. The blanket in his hands is soft and heavy and dark and smells like . . . smells like . . . 

It smells like Alpha. 

"Is that one . . . acceptable, Master Jason?" Grandpa asks quietly. 

Jason rubs his thumbs across his grip on the blanket. Buries his mouth in the edge of it just long enough to taste the pheromones scenting it. Breathes it in. 

Yes. It smells like Alpha. 

Their alpha. 

Jason lays the Alpha-scented blanket over the bottom of his growing nest like a foundation, purring soft and reverent as he tucks all the corners in, and then resumes building from there. Grandpa makes a very quiet choked noise again. 

"Delivery," Little Brother says as he and Loud Sister reappear in the doorway with more nesting pillows than Jason actually realized were in the entire pack den. Good, he thinks, crooning approvingly as he nudges Pup Brother to go and fetch them. Good for his mates' pups. Lots of pillows. Lots of warm and soft. 

Just–lots. 

"Do we know who sired Todd's pup?" Pup Brother asks warily as he ferries back the nesting pillows just a little awkwardly. It’s going to take him a few trips to get them all, but Jason doesn't mind. There's no rush. 

"He hasn't said," Grandpa says. 

"Surely we should inquire, then," Pup Brother says. "It seems . . . important." 

"Damian, you and Bruce are literally the only people in this pack currently living with any kind of a blood relative," Loud Sister tells him wryly. "Except for Jason and the baby now, I guess. And also that is a super-rude kind of question to ask somebody who's in feral drop anyway." 

"Well, they could be someone dangerous," Pup Brother grumbles. "Or a civilian, in which case they would need to be retrieved as soon as possible." 

"‘Retrieved’?" Little Brother asks with a frown. "What for?” 

"They would not be safe outside the manor," Pup Brother says. "The sire of the first pups of our pack's next generation would be a valuable target for our enemies." 

". . . okay, good point there," Little Brother mutters as he and Loud Sister both wince. "Uh, Jason? Who'd you spend your last heat with?" 

"Mine," Jason replies, contentedly fluffing the new layer of pillows in his nest. It’s much more important than that question. 

". . . your what, exactly?" Loud Sister tries. 

"Mine," Jason repeats, still more absorbed in the process of nest-building than anything else. They can talk once his nest is done, he figures. If they really have to, he means. "My . . . mmmmm. My sun. And my arsenal." 

"Please don't mean a Kryptonian when you say 'sun'," Little Brother mutters under his breath. "Or an assassin when you say 'arsenal'." 

"I love them," Jason replies in satisfaction, and lays down another blanket. This one smells like Grandpa. It's so nice. 

"Oh wow, Jason just actually admitted an emotional attachment willingly and in cold blood and without triggering the pit," Loud Sister says, her eyes wide. "Yeah, okay, we reaaaaally shouldn't have asked about the sire." 

"No, Damian's right," Little Brother says, shaking his head. "This is important. They could be in danger. Or, uh, planning to attack us. Depending. Are your sun and your arsenal civilians, Jason?" 

Jason laughs. 

That's such a funny question. 

"They're gonna burn down Gotham for me," he says dreamily. 

"Not the most reassuring answer but noted," Little Brother says. "Are they going to burn it down with, I don't know, specifically heat vision?" 

Jason laughs again. 

"I'm just gonna call Kon real quick," Little Brother says, pulling out his phone. 

"Isn't he an omega?" Loud Sister asks doubtfully. 

"Yeah, but Supergirl's an alpha," Little Brother says. "And, relatedly, so is Power Girl." 

Jason takes a moment to think about Power Girl. Just, like . . . as a person and everything. And as an experience.  

He purrs.

". . . yeah, definitely call Kon," Loud Sister says, half-eyeing him for some reason. 

Little Brother calls. 

"Hey, Tim," Little Brother's phone hums as Jason's busy demonstrating how to build up the sides of the nest for Pup Brother, who's still watching the process intently. "What's up, dude?" 

Oh. It's the cloud castle omega, Jason realizes. 

"I forget which one of you's courting him," he muses distractedly as he reinforces the nest a little more. He’s pretty sure he knew, anyway. But maybe not. 

"Wait, who's getting courted?" Little Brother's phone asks, sounding puzzled. 

"Nothing! No one!" Little Brother sputters as he turns red. So maybe he's the one doing the courting, then? But also Quiet Sister is leaning in towards the phone with a very pleased expression on her face, so maybe not. 

"Kon," she says happily. 

"Oh, hey there, Batbabe," Little Brother's phone says, sounding pretty pleased too. "Nice to hear from you again." 

"Kon," Quiet Sister repeats in a low and carrying alpha-voiced rumble, which may or may not count as an actual response to her, and the phone giggles flirtatiously. Little Brother makes a face. 

"Kon, do you know if Power Girl might've heat-partnered Hood recently?" he cuts in quickly. "Or . . . ever, I guess?" 

"I don't know, Tim, do you remember how we talked about boundaries and how some people still have them even when they're wearing coordinating superhero costumes?" his phone asks dryly. 

"Yes," Little Brother very clearly lies. 

"Yeah, well, Power Girl and I definitely have them," his phone says. "Despite the super-hearing and the X-ray vision and how absolutely desperately I want her to throw me down and fucking rail me, which should tell you a lot." 

"Jason just showed up at the manor pregnant and feral with literally no warning and when we asked him who the sire was he just called them his 'sun'," Little Brother says. 

". . . alright well so much for boundaries, I guess," his phone says. "Lemme text her." 

"Thank you," Little Brother says in relief. 

"You're just lucky that you're cute and I'm easy," his phone scoffs. "Hmmm. She says 'no, does he need me to?' Lucky bitch." 

"Dammit," Little Brother says. “Alright, thanks anyway. I’ll see you this weekend.” 

“Such a romantic,” his phone teases. “Speaking of heat-partnering, you bringin’ Cass along next time?” 

Quiet Sister rumbles warmly. Little Brother’s phone laughs, then purrs back. Little Brother looks briefly sour. 

“Sure, great, thanks,” he says. “Bye, Kon.” 

“Hate to see you go, love to watch you leave,” his phone coos, and Little Brother ends the call with an exasperated expression. 

“Why is he like this,” he mutters. “Why don’t I have better taste?” 

“Because you are an idiot,” Pup Brother informs him. Little Brother eyes him dubiously. 

“Helpful as always, demon brat, thank you,” he says. “Alright, it’s not Power Girl, so small favors. I don’t know how concerned we should be at this point, honestly. It might just be, I don’t know, some random assassin’s kid or something.” 

“Ugh, I hope not, a Kryptonian’s pup would’ve been way less of a problem than an assassin’s,” Loud Sister huffs, making a face as she folds her arms. 

“. . . explain that logic, please,” Little Brother says. 

“Kryptonian babies don’t get superpowers until the sun happens to them, so they wouldn’t accidentally hurt him kicking around in-utero or anything, so we’ve got nine months ‘til shit might get complicated,” Loud Sister replies reasonably. “But assassin babies come with at least one guaranteed murderous relative and probably also-murderous rivals of said relative who are all already grown-ass murderous adults that probably don’t care about stabbing pregnant people.” 

“I hate our lives,” Little Brother mutters, putting his face in his hands. 

“Assassins will not be a concern,” Grandpa says dismissively, and Jason feels warm and safe. Anyone else, that might just be an assumption. From Grandpa, it’s a promise. 

He loves him so much. He loves all of them, obviously, but Grandpa he loves so much. He purrs happily in his direction, and Grandpa's face goes soft for a moment, and then solid as steel. 

“You’re safe here, my boy,” he says quietly. and Jason purrs again and stacks up some more nesting pillows. He knows that. Grandpa’s here, so of course he does. The pack’s here. He’s not alone this time, so he’s safe. 

And Alpha will be home soon, too. 

So yes. He’s safe. His pup is safe. 

He wouldn’t have brought them here if they wouldn’t be. 

Jason stacks up a few more nesting pillows; drapes another blanket over them and tucks in all the loose corners of it. He’s making sloping walls. He likes those the best. They’re the nicest. 

( Mama built her nests with sloping walls. real Mama. not the liar.

he always wanted his nests to be like hers. )

This blanket smells like Loud Sister. A little bit like Quiet Sister too, but mostly like her. It’s nice too. Jason checks the corners of it, then gets more pillows. 

“I was unaware this was such an involved process,” Pup Brother says, sounding perplexed. 

“Depends on both the omega and the situation, but yeah, kinda tends to be,” Loud Sister says with a shrug, then glances towards the door. “Who’s–” 

Brother, Quiet Sister signs, unconcerned. Jason perks reflexively, because there’s only two options left for that sign, and–

Ah. No, he can smell New Brother coming; not Big Brother. Well, that’s alright. Jason doesn’t know New Brother very well yet, but he should be here. Obviously he should. The whole pack should. He’s pupped now, so they’re all just going to have to hurry up and get home to meet them. Her. Him. It? 

. . . whatever. Jason doesn’t even understand most of the human genders, much less any Tamaranean ones. The pup can just tell him when they figure it out. 

“Hey, what’s everybody doing in–” New Brother starts to ask as he walks into the foyer, and then catches sight of Jason and startles in surprise. “Oh!” 

Jason hums in idle acknowledgement at him, but doesn’t look up from the nest. New Brother is a beta; he doesn’t need nesting lessons. Though he could come in, Jason supposes. 

To the room, he means. Not the nest. He doesn’t know him well enough for that yet. 

. . . maybe later, though. Mm. Yeah–later, maybe. 

But Pup Brother and Quiet Sister first. 

“Jason came home,” Little Brother says. “Came home pregnant, specifically. He’s presenting his pup to–well, he presented them to Alfred, technically, I think the rest of us were more incidental in that. But he did let Steph and I get him pillows and he’s teaching Damian how to nest. Also he's definitely feral as hell right now, so keep that in mind.” 

“Huh,” New Brother says, looking bemused. “I . . . was not under the impression that he would literally ever do any of that. Except maybe for the going feral part, though in that case I would’ve expected more blood and screaming and murder. Uh–no offense.” 

“None taken, I’m sure, Master Duke,” Grandpa says dryly. 

“I didn’t mean–I just, you know, I didn’t think he really considered the manor home anymore,” New Brother says awkwardly, and Jason . . . Jason feels a little unsettled, and thinks . . . is that . . . right, or . . . ? 

“This manor will be a home to Master Jason for as long as it stands,” Grandpa says, simple and certain, and Jason is immediately soothed. Grandpa knows, after all. So if Grandpa says so, it’s true. “To all of you. No matter what.” 

Jason loves him so much, he thinks contentedly, and layers a few more pillows. 

“We should call Bruce, actually,” Little Brother says. “Do you think we should call Bruce?” 

“No,” Grandpa says. “Master Bruce will just rile himself up on the way home if we call him and show up in an alpha snit. Best to just let him arrive as scheduled. He should be on his way by now anyway.” 

“I guess, yeah,” Little Brother says, biting his lip. “I don’t know, I just feel like we should call him.” 

“We should call Dick,” New Brother says. “Speaking of people who’re gonna get riled about this.” 

“Ooo, good point,” Loud Sister says with a wince, tapping her lip. “Where is he tonight again?” 

“Master Dick and Miss Barbara are already enroute as well,” Grandpa says, linking his hands neatly in front of himself. “I did call them. Though I will admit that I did not specify the purpose of my call, only that there was vital pack business to be attended to at the manor.” 

“Alfred, I’m pretty sure you gave them a heart attack,” Loud Sister says with a wince. “Like you definitely gave them a heart attack.” 

“I did not say that it was urgently vital,” Grandpa replies, clearly unconcerned. “Master Jason, are you hungry? Would you like something for the pup?” 

Jason pauses consideringly, mulling that over, then nods agreeably. The pup needs fed, yes. The pup definitely needs fed. Especially if there's more than one. They have to grow up strong and healthy. They need taken care of. 

“For the pup,” he confirms. And he still wants a cookie, too. 

He really wants a cookie. 

A cookie would be nice. 

“Just a moment, then, Master Jason,” Grandpa says, then heads off towards the kitchen. Jason hums contentedly to himself–because Grandpa–and then goes back to showing Pup Brother how to nest. 

“Damian is also fine with this?” New Brother mutters in an aside to Little Brother and Loud Sister. “Like, that’s a thing?” 

“Damian is, more pressingly, not deaf,” Pup Brother says dubiously. New Brother looks momentarily embarrassed, then just shrugs. 

“Look, you can’t tell me it’s not a valid question,” he says. Pup Brother glowers at him. 

“Todd is an omega who trained within the League of Assassins,” he says. “He is the most acceptable candidate to provide me with these teachings.” 

“They nest in the League?” Loud Sister asks skeptically. 

“No,” Pup Brother says, the corner of his jaw momentarily tightening. “They do not.” 

“Oh,” she says, just barely wincing. Jason purrs encouragingly at Pup Brother, then reaches out and tugs him in close enough to rub his wrists along the scent glands in his throat, scenting him with nest safe-nest-safe-nest pack-omega-protect. Pup Brother stands very, very still for it very, very stiffly. Jason purrs again, then nuzzles his hair before taking the rest of the pillows he’s holding from him and working on working them into the nest. Pup Brother stays still one moment longer, then heads back to the pillows left by the door and scoops them up to bring back. Jason purrs approvingly again, and a very faint note of . . . acknowledgment, maybe, enters Pup Brother’s scent. 

Pup Brother’s scent very rarely gives off anything but challenge or disdain, if it gives off anything at all. The only ones in the pack with more control over their pheromones are Quiet Sister and Grandpa, Jason thinks. Even Alpha can’t hold himself back as well. 

Alpha grew up different, of course, Jason remembers idly, and fluffs up a few of the pillows before placing them. 

He turns over the pillows consideringly once or twice, then fluffs them again. After a while Grandpa comes back with a small stack of folded clothes and a tray of little sandwiches and cut-up celery sticks and apple slices with peanut butter to dip them in, and Jason very vaguely remembers being twelve years old and consistently not hungry for maybe the first time he could remember and that one weird, stupid phase where he’d refused to eat anything without cheap store-brand peanut butter being involved and driven Grandpa very politely up the wall, probably, but Grandpa had found about eight million different ways to use the stuff and Alpha hadn’t complained or forced him to eat anything he didn’t want or anything like that. 

Psychologically, Jason knows it’d probably been some stupid regression thing or just because he’d never really been in a situation where he’d been able to be actually picky about food before. But at the time . . . at the time, it’d felt like proof that Grandpa and Alpha had really cared. Like, even more than getting taken in off the street to begin with had. 

It’d been . . . weird. Weird that that’d made him feel that way. 

Weirder than they’d put up with it, though. 

So seeing Grandpa bring him peanut butter now is . . . 

Jason thinks about crying, but it makes more sense to hug Grandpa and nuzzle into the scent glands in his throat, even with the high stiff collar of his shirt halfway in the way. It doesn’t matter, because Grandpa smells familiar and safe and Grandpa is familiar and safe and he brought him peanut butter like maybe he . . . remembers, maybe, that one weird stupid phase Jason’d had. Like maybe he . . . cares, still. 

There’s cookies on the tray too. Jaffa cakes. 

Jason hasn’t had a jaffa cake since before he died, he’s pretty sure. 

If he has, he knows it couldn’t possibly have compared to Grandpa’s. 

Jason purrs into Grandpa’s half-covered scent gland, then takes the tray and sets it up neatly just outside the nest, in easy reach but not in any packmates’ paths. Easy to step around. He picks out the nicest-looking jaffa cake and pushes it on Pup Brother, who looks puzzled but takes it. 

“Er,” Pup Brother says, frowning at the jaffa cake in his hand. “I have reached my necessary caloric intake for the day, Todd.” 

Jason doesn’t know why that matters, so just watches him expectantly. Pup Brother looks awkward, glancing towards the others. Jason prods insistently at the jaffa cake. 

“Master Jason seems to want you to eat as well, Master Damian,” Grandpa supplies helpfully, seeming faintly amused, and Pup Brother looks puzzled again. 

“Why?” he asks. “I am not the one with pups to feed.” 

“You are a pup to feed, Damian,” Little Brother says wryly. Pup Brother’s expression turns dubious. 

“Hardly,” he says. “The fact that I have not yet presented is irrelevant to my capacity to feed myself.” 

Jason doesn’t really know what Pup Brother’s going on about, but he needs to eat. He pokes meaningfully at the jaffa cake again, a little concerned. Is Pup Brother not feeling well? Is he sick? He doesn’t smell sick, or like he’s in pain or anything like that either. But he’s still not eating the jaffa cake, and it’s one of Grandpa’s. 

“I think if you don’t eat it you’re gonna stress him out,” New Brother says. Pup Brother scowls at him. Maybe he really doesn’t feel good, Jason thinks, and presses the back of his hand to his forehead just in case, frowning at the thought. “See?” 

“This is ridiculous,” Pup Brother mutters, but he takes a bite of his jaffa cake and Jason immediately relaxes and starts purring encouragingly at him, twisting his wrist to rub his scent glands along Pup Brother’s hair with the scent of pack-pack-BROTHER-pack. Good. Pup Brother isn’t sick.

Pup Brother . . . blinks, very slowly, and then eats the rest of his jaffa cake. Jason purrs louder and scents him a little more. He’s such a good pup. Jason wants to–

The front door slams open. Everyone jumps, but Jason isn’t worried about it, because at the same time he hears Big Brother’s voice shout, “ALFRED!”

So it’s just Big Brother, and Grandpa will take care of him. It’s fine. 

“Master Dick,” Grandpa says, turning towards the front door with a mildly disapproving expression, still holding the clothes he brought with the tray. Jason wonders what they’re for. “Please refrain from shouting in the den.” 

“You said it was vital pack business!” Big Brother’s voice protests. Jason can’t see him from here, but isn’t worried about it. Big Brother will come into view soon enough, and then Jason will let him in the living room. Not the nest, but definitely the living room. “You haven’t said that since the last time the Court of Owls was making trouble!” 

“I didn’t say it was urgent,” Grandpa says, mildly put out. 

“What happened?” Big Brother’s mate asks, and Jason hears the slight squeak of her wheels. They should oil her chair, he thinks absentmindedly. It’s safer if she can move quieter. “And why is everyone in the foyer?” 

“Everyone is not in the foyer, actually,” Loud Sister says. 

“Bruce and Selina are still on the way, aren’t they?” Big Brother’s mate asks. “My news tracker didn’t ID them as leaving the gala until pretty recently.” 

“Yeah,” Little Brother says. “She meant Jason and Damian aren’t out here, though.” 

Big Brother and his mate both pause. Jason lays out another blanket. 

“. . . ‘out here’?” Big Brother repeats. 

“We are in the living room,” Pup Brother says, sounding annoyed. “Obviously.” 

“What do you mean ‘we’?” Big Brother asks in confusion, then leans into line of sight to look into the living room past the others. Then he goes very, very still. Jason wonders why, idly, and shakes out another blanket. “. . . Jason. Are you nesting? In the living room?” 

Jason huffs, because obviously, and then drops the blanket to go over to the doorway and grab Big Brother’s wrist and yank him into the living room past the others. He’s taking too long. 

“Present,” Jason croons anyway, because the important part is that Big Brother is finally here, and he pulls Big Brother’s hand to his stomach. 

“Oh,” Big Brother chokes, his eyes widening. Jason just pushes his nose into one of the scent glands in the other’s neck and nuzzles in contentedly. Big Brother smells strong and sure and safe, like always. 

“Oh, you got the full intro,” Little Brother observes, sounding a little surprised. “Only Alfred’s gotten that so far.” 

“Jason,” Big Brother says, his voice still choked, and then Jason has to suffer through being hugged with Big Brother’s free arm, but it’s fine. Big Brother’s just like that. 

Anyway, Jason can keep his nose in his neck for a little longer this way anyway. 

“Mmm,” he hums, nuzzling Big Brother again. “Uncle. Don’t spoil ‘em.” 

“I’m gonna spoil ‘em so bad, Little Wing,” Big Brother says with a shaky little laugh, squeezing his arm around him tighter. Jason grumbles in annoyance and bites him, but not too hard. 

The bruising won’t last that long, he means. 

. . . probably. 

Big Brother probably is gonna spoil his pup, the dumbass. Jason’s gonna have to make sure he doesn’t go overboard. A little bit of spoiling is probably okay, though. Like–just giving the pup a little bit of it can’t hurt. Jason doesn’t really know if he knows how to spoil a pup himself, so . . . Big Brother’s gonna be useful for that, yeah. 

Though he’s still gonna have to make sure the idiot doesn’t go overboard, obviously. 

Big Brother squeezes him tighter again. Jason bites him harder, then shoves him off. Big Brother coos happily and Jason rolls his eyes. 

Moron. 

“Master Jason,” Grandpa says, and holds out the clothes in his arms. Jason realizes they’re probably meant for him, so he takes them. They’re soft. Nice-feeling. 

And they smell like . . . 

Jason holds the folded stack of them against his chest and breathes in the scent of Alpha, and settles into his own bones. 

“We have been unable to ascertain the identity of the sire,” Pup Brother informs Big Brother. “Todd did not provide a clear response when questioned.” 

“Oh, yeah, I don’t even know if he’s seeing anyone,” Big Brother says. “Well, does it matter?” 

“As Dames pointed out earlier, if they’re either an assassin or an easy target?” Loud Sister says. “Definitely. Like, very, very definitely.” 

“. . . point,” Big Brother says, making a face. “What did he say?” 

“He called them his sun and his arsenal,” Little Brother says, sounding bothered. “That was all he said. Power Girl said she hasn’t heat-partnered him, thought we probably should ask Supergirl too just in case, since–” 

“Tim,” Big Brother cuts him off, staring at him as his mate muffles a low snicker. Little Brother pauses, then blinks at him. 

“What?” he says. 

"Jason called them his sun," Big Brother repeats, raising an eyebrow. "And his arsenal.” 

"Yes?" Little Brother says. 

"You know, I remember your friends' names, Timmy," Big Brother says. 

"Wh–oh!" Little Brother groans, smacking a hand against the side of his head as Big Brother's mate starts laughing outright. "Starfire and Red Arrow?! Seriously?!" 

"In Jay's defense, I might've talked them both up a bit back when he was young and impressionable," Big Brother replies wryly. "Or maybe a lot. So like, good job on bagging them both at once, Little Wing, I'm impressed, never actually pulled that one off myself." 

"You and the damn redheads," Big Brother's mate snorts. Which . . . her hair is also red? So Jason's not really sure what that's about. "And how's Wally doing today, honey?" 

"I'm sure I don't know, honey," Big Brother lies primly, folding his arms. "So how was their double-team game, Little Wing? Just for totally innocent and unselfish reasons that have nothing to do with either any unsatisfied teenage curiosity or outstanding bets with Vic or my own personal spank bank." 

"They want flowers," Jason hums contentedly, finally unfolding the clothes Grandpa’s brought him. They smell so much like Alpha he must’ve slept in them last night. 

"Flowers?" Big Brother tilts his head questioningly as Jason kicks off his boots and strips off his own clothes and bare remnants of weapons and armor one-handed, letting it all drop carelessly to the floor. It’s not any more important than Red Hood’s gear, right now. 

"And stars," he says, still more contented. 

"Stars?" Big Brother wrinkles his nose. 

"Yeah," Jason says, stepping into Alpha’s soft sleep pants and pulling on his T-shirt. They fit, which is funny. Alpha used to seem like the biggest thing in the world, even face-to-face with Killer Croc or Clayface or just . . . whoever. 

Good, Jason thinks, smoothing the shirt down over his stomach carefully, even though nothing’s even showing yet. Then maybe the pup will think he’s someplace that safe too. 

Big Brother blinks at him. Blinks again. 

Blinks one more time. 

"Oh my god, are they actually mating you?!" he yelps, clapping his hands over his mouth as his eyes widen in delight. "Little Wing! My baby boy! Please let me be your man of honor, I will wear a bridesmaids' dress if I have to, I don't even care.” 

Jason is admittedly tempted by the offer, if only for the entertainment factor of watching Big Brother learn to walk in heels. Although even being a male beta Big Brother would still probably look distractingly better in the dress than any of the other bridesmaids, so maybe not . . . ? 

Also, really, Big Brother can probably already run in heels, knowing him. 

Maybe not stilettos, though. 

Hmmmmm. 

Jason does like stilettos. 

"A bridesmaids' dress?" Big Brother's mate asks wryly, raising an eyebrow. 

"Babs, baby, you don't even know what I would do to get Jason to have an actual mating ceremony that I could actually attend," Big Brother says feelingly, waving his hands in the air between them. "Wearing a bridesmaids' dress is the least of it." 

. . . Jason plucks at the collar of his borrowed shirt and wonders if Alpha would give him away, if he asked him to. If he'd . . . if he'd like to. 

Want to. 

If he'd dance with him, at the reception. That's normal, for the pack alpha to dance with the . . . with the bride. 

So maybe Alpha would, if Jason asked him to. 

Jason bites his lip, considering, and then just . . . goes back to the nest, and back to building it up. It's almost done–it doesn't need much more work. He's mostly just onto finishing touches now, really, and showing Pup Brother how to make sure everything's all comfortable and secure. 

"Are nests typically this size?" Pup Brother asks, peering over his shoulder with poorly-concealed curiosity. "It seems somewhat larger than necessary." 

"Depends how many people you want in 'em and, like, said people’s feelings about personal space," Big Brother replies with a shrug. "Seen both bigger and smaller, depending. You should see Donna's heat nests, they're amazing. Like, they're basically fortresses and we can literally fit the whole Titans roster in them at once, reserves included. Apparently it's an Amazon thing, they just pile on the sisters like crazy." 

"That seems . . . excessive," Pup Brother says with a grimace. "Although quite frankly I cannot imagine wanting to be in a nest with anyone else at all. Certainly not while–compromised." 

"I mean, maybe, but you might change your mind about that someday," Loud Sister tells him with a laugh. "I didn't ever think I'd care about nests until the first time an omega I liked invited me into one of theirs to cuddle and then, welllll . . ." 

"Or if you ever get mated, you might want to then," Little Brother adds. "Partners that nest together report healthier relationships and deeper communication, and better socialization and emotional support for their pups." 

"I do not 'cuddle'," Pup Brother sneers with utmost disdain. "And I in fact have no expectations of ever finding an alpha worthy of either my time or the gift of my womb." 

"Isn't Jon an alpha, though?" Big Brother asks curiously, tilting his head with an expression of perfect innocence. "He's like your best friend. And that Colin kid's an alpha too, right? Wouldn't consider giving either of them a little time? Or just following Jason's example and going for broke on both?" 

"I–that's–shut up and die, Grayson!" Pup Brother sputters indignantly as everyone else muffles laughter, his face bright red and own expression absolutely mortified. Big Brother grins winningly at him, all sly amusement. Pup Brother glares back darkly. "I will kill you and I will not regret the necessity of it." 

"Okay, well, too bad for you but you've conditioned me to find murder threats adorable, so check and mate, pup," Big Brother replies with a wider grin. 

"A promise is not a threat," Pup Brother retorts darkly, narrowing his eyes at him. 

"Awwwww," Big Brother coos adoringly. Pup Brother hisses at him. 

He seems grouchy, so Jason hugs him. Pup Brother bristles. Jason should probably hug him harder, he figures, and does. 

“Todd!” Pup Brother sputters. Loud Sister and Little Brother start laughing, and New Brother muffles a snicker. Jason wonders what’s so funny, but it’s more important to hug Pup Brother and scent him with safe-safe-safe. Big Brother and his mate can handle whatever the others are distracted by, he figures. Or Quiet Sister or Grandpa. Or just whoever isn’t busy, he guesses. 

He should get Pup Brother another jaffa cake, he decides, and drags him back over to the cookies. 

“Todd!” Pup Brother squawks indignantly, attempting to escape his grip. He doesn’t use any nerve strikes, though, so Jason figures he’s not that serious about it and just sits him down on the edge of the nest and pushes another jaffa cake on him. Or two. 

. . . maybe three. Three might be better. 

“Oh my god, I would kill for my camera right now,” Little Brother says, still laughing. Pup Brother growls at him. Jason nuzzles him, then grooms his hair a little as he fusses him into eating the jaffa cakes. 

“Should we call Kori and Roy?” Big Brother’s mate asks. “They can’t possibly know he’s pregnant and not either be here.” 

“I mean, you’re assuming Jason didn’t deliberately ditch them, but point,” Big Brother says, his expression turning considering. “Or that he’d have told them he was pregnant. Especially since they’re not mated yet.” 

“They’ll mate me when I let ‘em,” Jason huffs, grooming Pup Brother some more and then pushing him down into the nest to tuck him in. Pup Brother doesn’t flail, but he stiffens a little, so Jason scents him some more. safe-safe nest-safe-nest

Pup Brother doesn’t relax, exactly, but warily untenses, at least. 

“Todd, this is your nest,” he says with a frown. “Why am I in it?” 

“I want you in it,” Jason hums, rubbing his wrists along Pup Brother’s throat with more safe-safe-safe. Pup Brother wrinkles his nose, looking bewildered. 

Dumb kid. Why else? 

“That is the least convincing possible answer you could have provided me,” Pup Brother accuses. Jason rolls his eyes, then leans down to nuzzle his hair and scruffs the back of his neck lightly. Pup Brother stiffens instead of melting, but it’s Pup Brother, so Jason isn’t surprised by that fact and just nuzzles him again before looking towards Quiet Sister instead. The nest’s good enough now, he thinks. 

“You too,” he says, jerking his head towards it. Quiet Sister’s eyes widen in surprise, and then her face splits into a warm, delighted smile. 

Thank you, she signs before slipping into the living room and approaching the nest. She stops outside it to bow in a formal, unpracticed request. Jason spares a moment to hate her asshole sire, then reaches up and grabs her to pull her down into it. She lets him, which makes him feel a little better about things, and lets him settle her into the curved side of the nest. She beams at him, reaching up to brush sister-scent along his throat from her wrists, and he stops to nuzzle into them. It’s nice, so obviously he does. And it makes it easier for her to scent him, too. 

“Holy shit,” Loud Sister mutters under her breath. Jason doesn’t know why. 

He nuzzles into Quiet Sister’s wrists one last time, then turns to scoop Pup Brother into his arms and pull him down onto their sides. He cuddles them together, wrapping himself around him and leaving Quiet Sister space to spoon up behind him. Them. Whichever. Pup Brother makes an indignant noise and Jason hushes him with a humming purr and nuzzles safe-pup good-pup good-good-pup into his hair. Pup Brother makes an outraged noise this time, and Little Brother and Loud Sister both laugh. Pup Brother growls at them and reaches for a knife, and Jason hums another purr into his hair. He lets Pup Brother throw the knife at them, since they don’t need knives in the nest. Not while Grandpa and Big Brother are here, anyway. It’s safe, with both of them here. 

. . . and Alpha will be home soon too. 

Little Brother and Loud Sister dodge Pup Brother’s knife, still laughing. Jason just buries his face in his hair again and squeezes his arms around him tighter with another purr. Pup Brother hisses, but relaxes. Slightly. 

Well, doesn’t go for another knife, anyway. 

Same difference. 

“This is undignified, Todd,” Pup Brother growls. Jason doesn’t know what he’s talking about, so just ignores it to cuddle him some more, petting more good-pup safe-pup scent onto him. What’s “dignified” matter, anyway? They’re in the pack den. They don’t have to worry about things like that here. 

Even if Grandpa always does himself. But that’s just Grandpa, anyway. 

“I don’t think he cares, Dami,” Big Brother says, sounding amused. “Can everyone else come into the living room too, Little Wing, or do you want your space?” 

“Come in,” Jason hums easily. Obviously they should all come in. Why wouldn’t they? 

Grandpa gives a soft hitched sigh, and Big Brother lets out a choked little laugh. 

“Cool,” he says. “Yeah, that’s–okay. Yeah. Thanks, Jason.” 

“Just get ‘em all in here and quit fuckin’ loitering,” Jason snorts, then nuzzles Pup Brother again, who gives an aggrieved sigh but still doesn’t stab anyone. So that’s fine, Jason figures, and scents good-good-pup into his hair again. 

“Absolutely undignified,” Pup Brother mutters sullenly as the rest of the pack slips quiet and careful into the room. New Brother and Loud Sister take the couch. Little Brother tries to follow them, like an idiot, and Jason growls. 

“Not there,” he snaps irritably, baring his teeth. Stupid Little Brother. 

“Uh,” Little Brother says. “You don’t want, uh, me in here?” His scent flickers with restless self-consciousness, and Jason growls again. Idiot. 

He sits up just enough to glower his exasperation at Little Brother, then leans over and snakes out an arm to grab his ankle and yank. Little Brother goes down with a yelp, and Jason drags him over to the side of the nest and pulls him in against it. Not inside it, obviously, but against it. He snatches Little Brother’s laptop off him to make sure he stays, then unfolds it and sets it up on the edge of the nest facing out towards Little Brother. He also glowers at him again, just to make the point. 

“There,” he says, still annoyed but mostly satisfied. “Sit. Stay.” 

“Um,” Little Brother says. “Right . . . here?” 

Jason gives him a withering look, then lays back down between Pup Brother and Quiet Sister and curls up around Pup Brother, who huffs over it. Quiet Sister rumbles softly, then presses up against his back. Jason feels . . . settled, maybe. Quiet Sister won’t let anything happen either. They’re safe here. 

All of them. 

“Am I flattered that he just set up a workstation for me on the edge of his nest or insulted that he wants me on the floor?” Little Brother wonders. Loud Sister laughs and he flips her off, but settles properly into his seat anyway and adjusts the tilt of his screen. Jason growls again on principle, then spares Big Brother a suspicious glance to make sure he sits where he should. Big Brother lets out a shaky laugh of his own, but sits down cross-legged on the floor on the other side of the nest. 

Good, Jason thinks in satisfaction. 

Grandpa sits in the armchair by the doorway, unfortunately, but it's Grandpa, so Jason allows it. And Big Brother's mate wheels over and parks her chair behind Big Brother. That's fine, Jason decides, then relaxes almost as fully as he can. 

As fully as he can without Alpha around, anyway. 

Alpha should hurry up and get here. Jason needs to present his pup to him already. 

It's . . . different from the last time he was waiting on Alpha, he thinks vaguely. Then he just–doesn't think about that anymore. But it is different. 

Alpha's actually coming this time, so it's different. 

Jason tightens his grip on Pup Brother and Quiet Sister tightens her grip on him. He can smell the whole pack's scents–smell the whole pack's packscent–and he feels . . . good about that. He likes that. 

He missed them. He shouldn't have stayed gone so long. Though now there's a pup, and maybe even more than one, so he supposes it was worth it. 

And either way, he's home now. 

Grandpa said. 

“ETA on B?” Big Brother asks. 

“Eighteen minutes, if they avoided the downtown traffic,” Big Brother’s mate says. Jason hums acknowledgment, then lets himself relax just a little more. More than he even thought he could, really. 

It's nice. 

It's really nice. 

And they're all safe, too. 

“Holy crap, is he purring?” New Brother mutters under his breath. 

“He is definitely purring,” Loud Sister confirms. “Like a big grumpy motorcycle.” 

“Pretty sure I've heard quieter motorcycles,” Big Brother's mate says wryly. “It's pretty cute, though.” 

“It is so cute, oh my god,” Big Brother says in despairing delight. “This is bad enough, how are we gonna handle him being like this with an actual baby?” 

“I think that's mostly a ‘you’ problem, Dick,” Little Brother says. 

“That is definitely a ‘you’ problem,” Loud Sister agrees. 

“For sure,” New Brother says. 

“Very cute,” Quiet Sister hums, nuzzling the back of Jason’s neck and patting his shoulder. “Baby brother.” 

“Thank you, Cass,” Big Brother says with a huff, folding his arms. “This is so adorable I can’t even stand it.” 

Jason huffs, rolling his eyes, then just settles in and closes them. It’s safe to. And he has a nest to let his scent seep into and through, and “bred” pheromones to let settle into and fill up the den. He’s early enough along that it’ll probably take a little while, so it’s past time to concentrate on putting those off and scenting the room. The nest’s all made, and Pup Brother and Quiet Sister are in it, and Grandpa’s by the door and Big Brother and Little Brother are just outside the nest, and Loud Sister and New Brother and Big Brother’s mate are all here too, so . . . 

So once Alpha’s here, then everything will be perfect. 

“He’s purring again,” New Brother mutters. “I literally did not even know he was physically capable of making that sound.” 

“Capable of making it to motorcycle-shaming levels, apparently,” Loud Sister says with a laugh. “Damn, Jason.” 

Jason doesn’t know what she’s talking about, but he isn’t worried about it. If it’s important, someone will take care of it. 

Everyone’s here, so of course someone will. 

“Silence, all of you,” Pup Brother grumbles, sounding long-suffering but staying settled secure in Jason’s arms, which is good. Definitely. He should be there right now. 

Jason nuzzles him some more, for obvious reasons, and then just concentrates on letting his pheromones spread through the room. His nest already smells like the pack and so does the den, obviously, but it doesn’t smell like pup-is-coming. 

It needs to, obviously. 

Someone’s purring. It’s not Pup Brother, but Jason’s not sure who else could be. 

Well, it doesn’t matter, really. 

Some of the others talk about some things, their voices soft and quiet. Jason doesn’t worry about it. It’s just little stuff, like patrol schedules and classes and appointments. Normal little things for a pack to talk about, and easy to settle into the background as white noise while he lets his pheromones fill up the room and makes sure Pup Brother’s eaten. 

He eats some of the apple slices and peanut butter, himself. The pup needs to eat too. 

It’s the same cheap, shitty store brand that he used to insist on as a pup himself. 

.

.

.

“ETA five minutes,” Big Brother’s mate says eventually, looking at her phone. Jason’s not sure what she’s talking about, but isn’t worried about that either. If it’s important, someone will tell him. Or handle it. Or both. 

All he has to do right now is wait for Alpha to get here, and then everything will be fine. 

Everything will be perfect, actually, once Alpha gets here. 

The others talk a little more. Their voices are still soft and quiet, so Jason still doesn’t worry about it. He just stays curled up around Pup Brother and in Quiet Sister’s arms, letting his pheromones fill up the den with bred and home-safe and all the usual things that are usually part of presenting a pup to the pack. 

It’s nice. The . . . being here. It’s nice. He missed it here. 

He wonders why he missed it so bad. Has it been that long, or . . . ? 

He just missed it, he guesses. 

But now he’s here, so he doesn’t have to miss it anymore. 

Grandpa turns his head towards the door and pushes himself up out of his chair. Jason whines in distress. Is he leaving? Why’s he leaving? 

“I’ll just be a moment, my boy,” Grandpa assures him, and Jason settles, a little. If Grandpa says he’ll be just a moment, then he means it. 

Grandpa steps out into the foyer again and everyone else goes quiet all at once, and Jason realizes–oh. The front door just opened, didn’t it. He doesn’t hear footsteps, though. 

. . . does that mean . . . ? 

“Alfred?” Alpha says from the foyer, sounding just barely concerned, and something in Jason vibrates at the sound of his voice. “What’s going on?” 

“Is someone purring?” Alpha’s mate asks curiously. 

“Master Jason came home, Master Bruce,” Grandpa says. 

“. . . he what?” Alpha says, his voice sounding–strange, just a bit. Jason isn’t sure why it does, but feels . . . 

“Just–the living room, Master Bruce,” Grandpa says. “You should come and see for yourself.” 

Grandpa steps back into view of the doorway, and Jason still feels unsettled and just a little bit uncertain, and isn’t sure if–

Then Alpha steps into view too, Alpha’s mate right behind him, and Jason forgets everything else and purrs. 

Alpha’s home. Alpha came this time. Alpha came for him this time. 

That’s all he ever wanted him to do. 

Alpha stares. He looks around the room just briefly, because it’s Alpha so of course he does–but then he stares. 

“Jason?” he says, and Jason purrs louder. 

Alpha came. 

“He’s, you know–definitely feral-brained right now, obviously,” Little Brother says, gesturing sheepishly. Jason wonders who he’s talking about, idly, but isn’t really worried about it. “Kinda just showed up and let himself in, and then, uh . . . well, he’s, uh, presented to Alfred and Dick so far and was teaching Damian how to nest, so . . .” 

“He did?” Alpha’s voice sounds a little–choked, maybe. Jason wonders why. 

He’s still over in the doorway, for some reason. Jason wonders why that’s a thing too. 

Alpha should know he’s allowed in the room, after all. 

“Alpha,” he hums, loosening his grip on Pup Brother just enough to half-reach for Alpha. What’s taking him so long over there, anyway?

It’s dumb. 

“Jaylad,” Alpha says tightly, half-taking a step forward and then–stopping, for some reason, just outside the doorway. Gripping one side of it, but not coming through it. 

Dumb, Jason thinks, and furrows his brow impatiently. 

“Alpha,” he insists, smacking the side of the nest once. 

Really, really dumb. 

“He accepted clothes with your scent, so . . .” Big Brother trails off. 

“And a blanket with it, as well,” Grandpa puts in. “He used it on a foundational layer of the nest.” 

“Ah,” Alpha says roughly, tightening his grip on the doorframe. 

“Don’t hover, Father, Todd clearly expects your presence,” Pup Brother says in exasperation, which is much more useful. Jason purrs appreciatively and nuzzles him, and Pup Brother sighs in aggravation, but doesn’t try to squirm away or anything. 

Good, Jason thinks, and nuzzles him harder. 

Pup Brother rolls his eyes and sighs. 

Alpha finally steps into the room, which is a start. Jason reaches towards him again with another, deeper purr. 

Alpha . . . swallows, visibly, and then comes over to the nest; kneels down outside it beside Big Brother. 

Close enough, Jason figures lazily, and catches Alpha’s wrist to drag his hand to his own stomach. He’s not wearing body armor, but it’s fine. It’s Alpha. 

It’s . . . 

“Present, Dad,” he hums, letting his eyes close again. Alpha makes a very tight noise, and his hand presses in very, very gently against Jason’s stomach. 

And the pup, obviously. 

“Jaylad,” Alpha says, cracked and hoarse. Jason hums back contentedly, squeezing Alpha’s wrist once. 

Good. That’s everybody, then. 

Good, yeah. 

“Who’s the sire?” Alpha’s mate asks curiously from the doorway, leaning against the frame. She hasn’t come in yet. Jason should probably tell her it’s fine, but he’s a little . . . distracted, maybe. Distracted. Yeah. 

Mmm. 

“He says either Kori or Roy, so we’re not technically sure, but the suspect list is pretty short,” Big Brother says, and Alpha’s mate laughs. 

“Could be both,” she points out teasingly. “Think you could handle double grandkittens, Bruce?” 

“More concerned about the risk of having Oliver Queen for an in-law, thanks,” Alpha says dryly, letting out a rough little noise that isn’t quite a laugh and curling his fingers gently against Jason’s stomach. His eyes are kind of shiny, Jason notes when his own half-open again for a moment. It’s . . . weird, a little. 

The shiny, he means, though he’s not really sure why. 

“Jason might’ve mentioned that they both offered to mate him, so yeah, that is in fact a concern,” Big Brother confirms with a laugh of his own. “But pretty sure Kori and Roy don’t know about the pup yet. Even if he managed to slip ‘em, there’s no way I wouldn’t have heard from either of them by now if they were trying to find him while they knew he was bred.” 

Jason huffs, because what does Big Brother mean “managed” to slip them? He could absolutely lose them whenever and wherever he felt like it. And anyway, he texted them earlier. So it’s not like they don’t know where he is. 

. . . or didn’t extrapolate where he is, anyway. But whatever, same difference. 

“Ah,” Alpha says again, and swallows again too. Jason rolls his head back enough to peer up at him a little closer, not really sure what’s going on with him. Hm. 

Well. He’s here. That’s all that really matters, really. 

Except . . . 

“Alpha?” he says again, not sure if . . . Alpha hasn’t taken his hand off his stomach, but he doesn’t seem–happy, really. Or pleased. Or . . . anything like that. Jason’s not . . . sure, exactly. 

Alpha’s hand presses in a little firmer against Jason’s stomach. Not too firm–not too much. But like . . . comfortably firm. If that makes sense, or whatever. 

It feels nice, and Jason relaxes a little. Okay. That’s–better, he thinks. Right? 

Alpha’s here, so . . . it’s better, yeah. 

And it means he’s doing alright. He’s being a good omega. He brought home a good pup to present to the pack–good pups, maybe, if he’s lucky. Alpha will like that, right? If it’s more than one pup? 

Any pup would be good, he thinks. Kori and Roy are both good sires. Lian’s great, for one. And Roy and Kori are great too. Just–definitely, yes. They’re gonna be such a good pup. 

Even with–him in them, they’ll be a good pup. 

He thinks so, anyway. They’ll have . . . better things than he did. They’ll be safer. 

Won’t ever end up alone in an alley without a pack or alone on a warehouse floor with no backup coming. 

Won’t ever doubt who actually loves them. 

Alpha makes a strange, choked noise. Jason doesn’t know why, really. Someone’s purring really loud, but he doesn’t know who it is. Not Pup Brother, and there aren’t any other omegas in the pack, so . . . 

Hm. Weird, yeah. 

Well, everyone’s here, so he’s not worried about it anyway. He’s being a good omega, and he brought his pup home to present. Grandpa and Big Brother were happy about it, and everybody else is here and settled in and safe. That’s all that matters, really. 

As long as Alpha’s happy about the pup too, anyway. And Alpha’s hand is still on his stomach, and Alpha’s still next to the nest, so . . . yeah. That means he is, right? 

So it’s good. Yeah. 

The purring gets louder. Jason nuzzles Pup Brother’s hair and melts under Alpha’s hand and in Quiet Sister’s arms. 

It’s definitely good. 

Nice. 

“Jason,” Alpha says tightly, and Jason cracks an eye open to look at him again. He doesn’t really remember when he closed them, but it’s not really important or anything. 

Alpha has a hand half-over his face, and his head’s ducked down. Jason blinks sleepily, tilting his own head to peer up at him again, but can’t really see his expression. He squeezes the hand he has around Alpha’s wrist; a little bit absent, a little bit like a reflex. He missed Alpha so much. 

The purring’s gotten really loud. 

“You’re home,” Alpha says. 

Jason wonders why Alpha says it like that. Like it’s a surprise or something. 

Like he’d ever bring his pup anywhere else. 

“Yeah,” he hums anyway, because he is home, and lets himself finally, finally fully relax into the nest. Quiet Sister makes a soft, acknowledging sound and winds her arms tighter around him, and Alpha's hand stays resting on his stomach. Pup Brother grumbles some disparaging things in Arabic, but settles in his arms. 

The purring is really loud now, but Jason doesn't mind. 

“Selina, please call Harley and Ivy,” Alpha says. “I need a favor tonight.” 

“What favor?” Alpha's mate asks curiously, though Jason can already hear the little rustle of her pulling her phone out of her pocket. 

“Them answering the Batsignal if anyone hits it,” Alpha says. “Kate's out of town ‘til Friday and Gotham can handle them for one night.” 

“I really don't think it can, but alright,” Alpha's mate says, sounding amused. 

“Can survive them for one night, at least,” Alpha amends. “And if the Justice League needs anything from me in the next ten to twelve hours, well, that's their problem to solve. I’m not going out tonight.” 

Jason, idly, wonders why Alpha’s staying in, but it's nice to hear anyway. If Alpha's gonna be home for that long, well . . . 

He can sleep a lot better, if Alpha's gonna be here. 

That’s good, because the pup needs him to sleep. 

So he tunes out the pack’s quiet voices as they all keep talking, and he sleeps. 

.

.

.

Jason wakes up to pale early-morning light in a disoriented snap of sudden adrenaline and clocks: soft surface. Sleeping bodies. Someone on either side of him and other presences close by and a room that smells like– 

Fuck, did he drunk-dial the Bat pack? 

Fuck. 

Even Tim’s asleep on the edge of the nest that Jason is inexplicably in. Like, all curled up and hugging his laptop like a teddy bear, but definitely asleep. And Dick’s on the other side of the thing, and that’s Cass pressed up against his back and–is Damian hugging him? In his sleep? Without a visible knife in hand?! 

Jason might’ve fallen into an alternate reality again. Fallen very, very far into an alternate reality. 

At least hopefully, anyway, because if this is his reality, he’s gonna have to deal with whatever the fuck happened last night, and whoever even built this nest that smells like the whole damn Wayne pack and slopes like–like Catherine’s always used to, like . . . like his mom’s always . . . 

Fuck. This is his nest, isn’t it. This is exactly how he builds the damn things every time he fucks up enough to go feral. And he definitely went feral, because he doesn’t remember a thing about last night after accidentally ending up at the manor like an idiot, except–wait, no, shit, now he is remembering things about last night, and they’re all fucking mortifying. 

Fuck. 

Jason needs to get out of here. He has no idea why anybody humored him taking over the living room like he thought he–like he actually–

He needs to get out of here, because the moment somebody wakes up and tells him he needs to leave or, worse, pities him enough to not tell him he needs to leave, he’s gonna lose his entire damn mind. If he just–

Cass’s fingers flex against his chest, very briefly, and he nearly panics. 

Of fucking course he couldn’t wake up in Cass’s arms unnoticed. 

“Jason,” she says quietly, and then Jason is officially fucked, because nobody in this room is gonna sleep through someone actually speaking. 

Why the hell couldn’t she at least have signed it? Why the hell couldn’t–

And then he registers that Bruce is in the room. 

Everyone else wakes up at the sound of Cass’s voice saying his name at the exact same moment that Jason freezes at recognizing Bruce’s scent. 

Bruce’s–Bruce’s . . . sire scent. Not on him, but . . . but still here. Still in the room. 

Jason hasn’t been this close to Bruce’s sire scent since– 

He’s not going to think about that. 

He’s definitely not going to think about that. Not ever. Not for anything. Not–

( he’d scrubbed it off so ANGRILY, that last time; so angry and betrayed and– 

he’d regretted that, on the warehouse floor. he wouldn’t have been able to smell it through the scent blockers in Robin’s suit anyway, couldn’t have stripped them off while all tied-up and bleeding out, WOULDN’T have stripped them off with any chance of that fucking bastard clown coming back, but–but–

but he’d regretted– )

Jason isn’t thinking about that. 

Bruce sits up along the sloped side of his nest, just outside it. Or–almost outside it. Almost. 

Bruce has an arm extended half-into Jason’s nest, which was deliberate, obviously. Bruce never does a damn fucking thing that isn’t deliberate. Not ever. 

Not a thing, Jason thinks, remembering everything every single awful bastard in Gotham ever survived and the batarang scar on his own neck. 

But Jason can’t even hate the asshole for reaching into his nest uninvited like that; can’t even curse him out or shove him out. He can’t, because–because he’s the one with his fingers hooked into the cuff of Bruce’s rolled-up sleeve with the hand of the arm he has draped over Damian. He’s the one holding onto him. 

So it’s not Bruce who was deliberate about this. It was Jason’s own stupid, stupid feral-brained stupid self, who thought–who thinks– 

Who always thinks–

Bruce isn’t his pack alpha. Bruce isn’t his sire. 

Bruce isn’t his fucking dad.

Bruce’s arm is in his nest, laid down the sloped side of it, and he smells the most like home that anyone’s smelled to him since his mom died in a nest built just like this one.

[bitter-hibiscus]

pack head omega jason todd getting away with shit his siblings could never. snapping his teeth at bruce, growling so deep it sounds nearly alpha-like to get bruce to leave a room when hes mad at him, rearranging the pack nest without asking, taking the food the non-head alphas make whenever he's hungry….. just COMPLETELY messing up the hierarchy of the batpack because he's tired of letting bruce be the head alpha uncontested

[shewhowillrise]

Everyone knew Batman was an Omega. It’s why children never ran when he approached them. It’s why the cops couldn’t do anything about the vigilante when he protected kids. It’s why Joker set his sites on the little boy blunder. Maybe hurting one of mama’s birds might finally break him. Finally cross that line.

Joker smiled in glee as he watched the little bird get to his knees and take in deep breathes. Well, tried anyway. He heard the little pup try to say something.

“Go ahead,” he teased, “your mama can’t hear you,” he laughed.

But instead of calling for his oma, the little bird sucked in as much air as he could before piercing Joker’s ears with a scream.

“Alpha!” The call of a pack pup.

Before Joker would even be confused on who he could be calling for, the roof caved in, creating a crater in the warehouse. From the dust, stood a tall imposing figure.

“S-Superman?” Joker sputtered.

“You,” Joker has only heard stories of the alpha’s rage, but at this moment, he knew, none of them were exaggerated, “hurt my pup.”

[golden-buddle]

@puppetmaster13u

——

The Bat was old. It was easy to see, especially with the numerous artifacts that covered Gotham. But, though the Bat was old- The Robins were young.

It started with a small pup, one that flew through the air with colors of Red, Green, Yellow, and Black.

The First of the Robins was bloodthirsty, a pup that grinned in the shadows of his mother, one that chirped and cheered when his mother shed blood and fear for him to feed on.

Though the pup was dangerous, he still was kind. And since he was much smaller than his ferocious mother, he was able to sneak away.

And sneak away he did. Often, the little bird would creep away from his mother, crooning to the victims and feeding off of the remnants of their fear as his mother shredded those who hurt his City.

But like most young children- Robin eventually grew up.

His colors darkened, falling away as the small blood thirsty bird grew fangs. Colors faded, darkening and shifting until only electric blues and blacks remained. The First Robin became a new bird- A Nightingale, and oh did he Sing like his namesake.

The Nightingale would croon, would sing, would talk, and when he talked- people found themselves lost to even themselves. Unable to stop themselves as they followed the now grown Alpha who had become almost as terrifying as his mother.

It was then that a new bird hit the streets, one that was said to have come from the Nightingale’s long shed feathers.

It’s said that when the colors faded, that when each color finally dwindled into blacks and blues, more Robins, more Birds came to life.

Each color that the first Robin shed came to life in their own right, with their own thirst for the fear that their Mother and elder Brother fed on.

The first to appear was the Cardinal, the one who came to life with as much blood-blood-blood as it left this world with.

The second was the Crow, the one who came to life under the Bat’s grief and the First Robin’s anger.

The third was Starling, but unlike the others, she found herself unhappy with the remaining colors. So she left, following the steps of the Cuckoo to become a Bat rather than a bird before settling into something entirely new.

The forth was, and still is, hidden- unknown but talked about in hushed voices from those who are brave enough to sneak up on the pack that protected the city. Though the Forth hasn’t been seen quite yet, the air drips with rumors about the forth Robin being a Drake, one that clad themselves in the dark greens that once covered their source.

Each Robin, each bird, the Bat took in gleefully.

The Bat cared for each of his hatchlings like any other omega- But protected them with enough fury that blood dripped from his talons and mouth.

[midosune]

Day 1 of ODW

A young omega's first heat is always taxing, good thing Dick has Jason to hold him through it ❤️💙

RR ~ First Heat

[randomer4567]

Run (Alpha Damian x Omega Reader)

Summary: You ran away from your alpha, years later he and his family tracked you down.

You despised the galas that Bruce would incessantly throw, primarily because of the other Omegas in attendance. They were nothing more than spoiled brats from wealthy backgrounds. In contrast, you hailed from a low-class family and had to fight tooth and nail to rise to the top. Eventually, you managed to secure a job at Wayne Industries, where you crossed paths with Damian Wayne. What intrigued you about him was his scent, a rarity since you rarely found yourself drawn to the scents of other Alphas, save for your dam and your older sister, who was also an Alpha.

Damian stood apart from the rest, as he seemed disinterested in the typical Alpha behavior of seeking out a harem of omegas.

You didn't actively pursue him, but to your surprise, he took the initiative and asked you out on a date. Initially, you almost canceled because you lacked a suitable fancy dress. However, Damian came through and sent you a dress and heels to wear. The two of you hit it off, leading to him asking you out again. This time, you had a wonderful time together. Love blossomed between you, and soon enough, Damian's rut coincided with your heat.

You decided to spend this intimate time at your place since Damian preferred not to be around his brothers and father during his rut, fearing he might go feral. That's how the two of you officially became a couple. In the beginning, Damian was sweet, treating you with gentleness, care, and respect. He showered you with attention, making you feel special and safe. He seemed to have a deep understanding of you. However, over time, he grew distant, concealing your mating mark in public and distancing himself from you. Your inner omega blamed itself, leading you to make the difficult decision to leave.

You concocted a plan to convince Damian that you were unwell. Convincing Alfred proved to be challenging, so you simply informed him that you were going through a rough week and desired some solitude. With Alfred being an omega himself, he understood your need for privacy and even aided in making it appear as though you were coming down with a cold. And now, you found yourself packing your belongings into a bag, including essential clothing, toiletries, scent blockers, enough food for several days, your cellphone, and laptop for communication with work (having transitioned to freelancing), a small first-aid kit for minor injuries, and a few books for entertainment during your journey. You had meticulously planned everything and were ready to go.

"Omega," Damian's voice called out, causing you to freeze. You mentally cursed yourself, and he approached, peering into your bag. "Are we going somewhere?" he asked, though the look on your face made him rephrase his question. "You're going somewhere," he stated, this time without a hint of uncertainty. You desperately searched for a way to lie or at least avoid getting into trouble.

"Something came up with my sister," you replied, avoiding his gaze, although his mesmerizing green eyes captivated you. Damian raised an eyebrow and remarked, "And you faked being sick just to visit your sister?" Your heart raced as you tried to think of a response. You knew you had to come up with something soon. Taking a deep breath, you attempted to explain.

"Yes, I needed to see her. She hasn't been doing well lately," you quickly added, "I just wanted to make sure she was alright." Damian regarded you with a suspicious expression, and you could tell he wasn't entirely convinced.

He nodded slowly and said, "Alright." Damian walked away, leaving you alone with your thoughts. Sighing, you glanced out the window, feeling a sense of relief. You knew Damian would keep an eye on you. You slung your bag over your shoulder, opened the window, and cursed silently. Why did Damian have to choose a bedroom on the third floor? Fortunately, the presence of vines provided a stroke of luck. You grabbed onto them and climbed down.You fled the Wayne property, having purchased a one-way ticket to Gotham months before, before you had met Damian.

You applied scent blockers before boarding the plane. Your laptop was turned off, and your phone was set to airplane mode.Years passed, and you built a new life for yourself. Adopting an alias in your freelancing work, you altered your appearance slightly. While you didn't have a new mate, you lived with your beta cousin, who willingly helped conceal your omega scent. Despite occasional bouts of loneliness, you found contentment in your new existence. That is, until the day you unexpectedly encountered someone you never thought you would see again—Tim Drake.

You pretended not to notice him, grateful for the scarf you had borrowed from your cousin. By a strange twist of fate, you ended up in the same grocery line. Tim attempted to engage in small talk, questioning how you had been, why you left without a word, and urging you to call Damian as he had been searching for you. Feeling a surge of anxiety, you swiftly made your escape, driving a few blocks away before abandoning the car to avoid any potential tracking. With groceries in hand, you approached your cousin's home, only to be confronted by a startling sight—Red Hood and Damian holding your cousin at gunpoint.

To be continued...

[thiccpersonality]

5 Times Bruce Was Protective of His Pups (+2 Times They Were Protective of Him)

1: The Interview

Batman hates a lot of things: mornings, waking up early, the sunlight peaking through his curtains, people-more specifically, Superman-bossing him around (even if that one is a bit hypocritical) and losing (in general) bets, just to name a few. But, another thing is strangers being around his newly adopted pup; Richard, anything and anyone that isn't deemed trustworthy to Bruce is deemed as a threat or kept in his sights as a potential enemy until stated otherwise.

Which is why Batman finds himself feeling antsy as he waits for the signal to be given for him and Superman to exit the backstage area together and onto set.

The omega doesn't even know why he agreed to be shown in public with his pup and Superman, it's just...he couldn't resist the excited little eyes turned his way when Richard heard the Kryptonian suggest doing an interview together. Of course, Bruce knows he should have knew his pup would be excited at the idea of an audience, the boy was a performer and entertainer for Heaven's sake, it's just that he never expected for himself to be so nervous about taking his baby out in public for the first time in awhile that wasn't for dealing with small crimes.

"Robin, make sure to stay under my cape unless stated otherwise, okay?"

The boy pouts at the gentle command, curious as to why his mom is so nervous. "But why? I could perform a lot of cool tricks for them out there. I bet they've never seen a live circus act before!"

Batman sighs fondly at the boy's youthful exuberance, his gloved hand instinctively raising to scent the boy's neck gland before realizing his own wrist is covered and settling for gently ruffling the pup's hair. "I bet so too. But...I would really appreciate it if you stayed under my cape until I tell you to come out-" He pauses at the disbelieving look on Robin's face, sighing softly in response-"What is it? Why do you look like that?"

"Because you aren't planning to let me ever come out, are you?"

At Batman's silence, Robin pouts further, a frustrated little puppy squeak escaping his throat. "See! Why can't I show them my tricks, B? I know they'd love to see me! Do you know how much people talk about Robin in the news? I'd be a hit!"

Batman takes in the boy's excited face carefully, thinking that maybe he's holding the boy back from something that could be good for him, but he knows his worries aren't unfounded. He remembers when he was just a pup, traumatized from witnessing his parents murder and just as bitter and angry as Richard...which is why he's not comfortable with the pup being in the spotlight, the boy seems to have good days where he's excited and happier than ever before; but then, things are too loud, the media that never ceases to leave Bruce Wayne alone too much for the poor boy to handle...and he's just scared that they'll upset his precious child, that maybe all of this spotlight won't be that great in the end, but what is he to do? He gave Alfred a break today and won't bother the alpha to come and watch his pup when the reasons for it most likely aren't even that serious.

A deep, soothing voice, however, interrupts Batman's thoughts.

"C'mon, Batman. Robin seems to be all for it, so why not let him be in the limelight for a few minutes? He knows you'll keep a good eye on him...and I hope you know that I will too?"

Superman gives a calm, reassuring smile down towards the smaller man, hoping that it's as disarming as he's trying to make it. This whole thing with the Bat is still fairly new, and he's even surprised that the man agreed to doing this with him when the other was so...volatile when they first met, but to be fair, Robin wasn't there when they encountered each other. It seems that the pup really has changed Batman in an unimaginable way.

"Of course he knows that-" a quick glance to his pup-"At least I hope he knows that?" Batman is yet again interrupted by his pup tugging at his cape desperately, "Pleeeease! Pretty pleeeeease? I promise I'll make you look good and-and make sure to smile-oh! Wait--I'll make sure to look grumpy to make you look really, reeeeally serious. And I'll stay close by, and I'll-"

"Okay, okay. You can...go...out there. But! You have to stay behind me when we go out first, okay? I'll make sure to introduce you properly before you do anything, they don't even know that you are here with us."

Robin nods enthusiastically and instinctually hides behind the omega at hearing someone approaching their dressing room, a small but audible knock is heard before one of the PA pokes their head in. "U-Uh...Superman, sir. A-And...Batman, sir. I've been told to come and get you guys, it's almost time for you all to h-head on." The poor beta swallows nervously at Batman's blank, white stare being directed his way. He can't see the man's eyes, but he can feel the icy stare piercing his skin almost painfully, luckily enough, Superman steps in front of the Bat with a bright smile. "Of course, thank you! We'll be right on out."

The beta nods quickly before rushing out of the dressing room, leaving the three heroes alone, Robin snickering softly at Batman's attitude.

"Agent A wouldn't appreciate your lack of manners, B. You were supposed to say, 'thank you very much.' You teach me to say please and thank you, but I never hear you say it...unless it's to Al-Agent A." The displeased grumble coming from Batman makes Robin even more amused, "That's because Agent A deserves said pleases and thank you's...most of the time anyway, though sometimes he gets on my nerves giving his opinion when I never asked for it. I'm surprised I haven't fired him ye-" Robin's 'oooh' cuts him off, even if the pup knows this familiar pattern of Bruce "threatening" to fire Alfred or lessen his pay, the child still likes to cause mischief wherever he can. "I'm telling him what you said! And you can't fire him, he's your daddy!"

Batman softens at the pup's words and-yet again-sighs softly, nodding in agreement of the pup's analysis of his and Alfred's relationship, slipping out a one hundred dollar bill for the pup just in case he really does plan on telling Alfred what was said.

"I won't say anything about my lack of manners or any threats to Agent A as long as you don't?"

Robin takes a moment to think about the question in Batman's tone; a mere proposition for him to not say anything, after all, he knows how scary Alfred's wrath can be. And even if it's not anger, you still don't want to be scolded by the older alpha...it makes you feel guilty for any bad things you've done, however, it's just that: a proposition, a mere suggestion for Robin to decide if he wants to go along with Batman's request or not, and while he may not be business savvy, he's not an idiot and immediately snatches the money and slips it into his own utility belt. "What are you talking about, B?"

The omega smiles down proudly at his pup and the genuine look of innocence written all over the pup's face, "That's my boy-"

Superman clears his throat to get the two Gothamites attention, holding the dressing room door open for the two when they look his way. "We have an interview to show up to...and I don't think we should make them wait any longer, it'd be rude-"

"But Batman isn't rude. He has the greatest manners ever, very nice."

Superman looks amused at Robin keeping up his act, eyeing the boy suspiciously as Batman leads them out the door. "You sure about that? Your answer wasn't swayed by...perhaps, a one hundred dollar bill?"

A small, offended gasp escapes the pup who decided to hide under the black cape anyway. "I don't take bribes, Superman, only cash or credit." The Super snorts at the young boy, not bothering to correct him on how that's what a bribe usually entails is money, instead, choosing to superspeed his way in front of Batman. "Do you want me to head out first? I...know how uncomfortable taking Robin out made you? So, maybe seeing me first might be for the best."

Batman wants to bristle at the taller pointing out his vulnerability...but he's too busy trying to ignore the flutter of his heart at the alpha's thoughtfulness.

"Mm. Fine."

————°————

The directed applause dies down as they come back from a commercial break, the interviewer/talkshow host smiling brightly for the camera. "For the first time in the history of ever we have two very special guests coming out for us today-and I don't mean gay-" the audience erupts into cued laughter-"One is the Golden Child of Metropolis, Superman, who is used to being in the spotlight and having annoying folks like myself poking and prodding at him. Let's give the champion of Krypton a big, but not too big, round of applause! He's still from Metropolis folks."

The crowd gives a more genuine round of applause and laughter this time around, the Gothamites curiously watching the super powered alien exit from the back with watchful eyes, one audience member shouting how they think Gotham Knights is still a better baseball team than whatever forgettable team Metropolis has.

Superman has to hold back from replying about how if his team is so " forgettable", then why did the Gotham Knights lose the World Series two times to them. It really shouldn't bother the Kryptonian as much as it does...but he loves baseball, so sue him for being passionate about it. Instead, he offers the host a thankful smile for having him in Gotham, the woman feeling as though she has to squint to properly look at the alpha. "How is anyone this happy in the morning? I'll never know, but thank you for agreeing to come to Gotham for this interview, Superman."

She pauses as the crowd claps again, her excitement-and nerves-growing at who she has to introduce next.

"Next is someone who I have great respect for and am extremely proud to introduce. This man-or I should say-Bat, is an enigma; a legend and seemingly myth to all who have heard of his great, seemingly impossible, feats. I am very happy-" and nervous goes unsaid-"to introduce our Dark Knight of Gotham, Batman!"

The crowd grows deathly silent as the Bat steps out onto set, the mood changing to one of slight unease and stunned awe as the man's beloved people witness his cape dramatically fanning out on the ground around him like some sort of Gothic wedding train. His stance tall and confident; commanding, as he keeps his eyes trained on the now stupefied TV hostess, each step eerily silent yet so loud to the people watching him walk forward as if he owns the place. The silence deafening as everyone takes a moment to process that the Batman is actually here, "U-Uh, you may seat-I mean, take a seat...i-if you want Batman, you don't need to if you don't...want...to."

The woman messes with her already neat hair nervously, turning to smile at the audience and camera to the best of her abilities. "Uh...a round of applause, please?" It takes a few more seconds before everyone reclaims the basics of their fine motor skills and burst into loud applauses and whistles. 

Batman does his best not to growl at the audience, they aren't doing anything wrong...just being loud and making his protective instincts flair, but he knows it's not them.

It takes everything in the omega to not clear his throat before speaking, if he does, that would most likely be a sign that he is nervous...and just in case any enemies are watching, he can't let them see he's weak, especially with a pup around. He ignores the woman's curious and slightly worried looks as to why he hasn't taken his seat yet, and turns to the audience and camera crew. "Before we begin, I have someone else you should be pleased to meet-" everyone's eyes are immediately drawn towards the small, vibrating lump underneath his cape-"Batman can't go anywhere without his partner, so you better show your appreciation at the new vigilante, Robin."

Everyone in the crowd gasps quietly and excitedly at the small pup that rushes out of the cape and performs a series of difficult flips and tumbles before landing perfectly and bowing.

Robin keeps his head bowed as the crowd cheers loudly and coos at him, rubbing at his chest at the random prickly feeling in it from the noise, before sitting up and smiling cutely. "Thank you! Thank you!" The crowd genuinely giggles at the cute display, no one daring to show the usual Gotham grumpiness towards the Bat's pup.

Batman finally takes his seat next to Superman, the alpha nodding at him proudly for not getting defensive while the omega does everything to ignore that stupid flutter in his stomach from that godforsaken smile.

"O-Oh, wow! This was something completely unexpected, but absolutely welcomed! Another round of applause for our guest heroes on: Shut Up! And Spill That Tea." The hostess relaxes somewhat at the sight of the pup, she admits that the boy is a breath of fresh air in the usual smog of Gotham...and the feeling of the studio, because while Superman is a way friendlier presence than Batman, he still is intimidating in his own way. She finds herself softening at the sight of the pup skipping up to Batman and crawling up onto the alpha's lap, "Thank you for gracing us with your presence, Robin. It's very nice to be able to meet such an adorable new face."

The boy smiles at the hostess and waves at her seemingly bashfully while his other hand holds his cheek. "You flatter me, Veronica-I mean, Ms. Veronica. I love your show." Her eyes widen at the fact that the pup watches her program, "Oh...thank you! I didn't know that you watched my show? How do you have time for that with all this crime fighting?" Veronica glances up at Batman to gauge his reaction to her question, sighing softly in relief at his attention placed carefully onto his pup.

Robin pouts at the question, his arms crossing to show his displeasure. "I'm not allowed out every night. B and Agent A say that growing pups need as much rest as possible...even though I try to tell them that I'm old enough to stay up late."

The crowd 'oooh's' and 'ahhh's' at his confession, Veronica perking up at the sudden mention of another name. "I have to say that I agree, you still need your sleep to grow just as strong as Batman. And I'm sure this...Agent A is a good man too if he's working with you both, if I may ask, who is this mysterious agent?" Robin pauses at that, worrying he maybe revealed too much and glances up at Batman quickly to see if he messed up, relaxing into the other when he looks normal enough. "He's a mysterious agent as you said. But back to how I watch your show! I enjoy waking up every morning and watching it! Because B only allows me to fight petty crimes on weekends, I have to get my drama fix every other day."

Even though the boy completely avoided her question, Veronica can't find it in herself to be annoyed like how she'd usually be if anyone else tried it.

"I appreciate you for tuning in! What makes you enjoy my brand of tea spills compared to other shows?"

Robin's smile is mischievous, "I enjoy how you don't hesitate to give your opinion. You aren't a suck up like most other TV hosts when they speak on a topic, and while you talk about things that may or may not be true, you keep it real in your opinion without also being overly cruel."

Veronica makes an impressed noise at how clearly the boy speaks, of course he's still a child...but definitely better spoken than most children she runs into. "Now who's the flatterer-" she smiles and looks at the camera for a minute-"Listen up, folks! This is something completely new and different for a show like this, as many of my viewers know, we talk gossip and scandals here a lot. But, as we are dealing with two men who could easily crush me if I ask the wrong questions, we will go a different route today and just stick with regular schmegular interview questions with...maybe slightly juicier questions thrown in, at least with Superman anyhow."

Veronica turns back towards the two older heroes, her eyes trying not to linger on Batman too long in fear he'll snip at her for admiring his physique a little too closely.

"Alrighty, so, you two have made headlines about a year or two ago with the announcement that Superman was in Gotham. Even better, was the lucky bastard who captured you two together on a rooftop, though some eye witnesses say our Dark Knight wasn't all too welcoming. I-as I'm sure everyone else-would love to know how you two first met and what caused Superman to bother stepping foot in Gotham?"

She leans in expectantly, expecting Superman to cooperate first and easiest.

"Well...If I'm allowed to say this? That wasn't the first time Batman and I met, we met a year prior in Metropolis when he was investigating a crime that involved both Lex Luthor and The Joker. That instance was the first time we were actually captured together, however, and...yeah, Batman wasn't so welcoming of me being here."

Veronica eyes the Kryptonian like a predator with its prey as he keeps drifting his eyes over to look at Batman, the excitement bubbling in her stomach at the almost reverential look the alpha wears on his face. Humming in response to his words, "And how exactly have you come to this point of doing an interview together? No one can get their hands on the Bat...not unless you are as stupid enough to try it like the Rogue Gallery, but I guess Superman can use his powers in many ways, right everyone?"

The audience whoops and wolf whistles at the implications of her words, the Super flushing under the attention and because he would love to use his powers in such a way towards the Bat. 

"Superman isn't as stupid as he appears, Veronica. He'd be a fool to try touching me."

Everyone grows silent again at the Bat talking, a shiver running down everyone's spine at the soothing, yet bone shaking, silky deepness of the man's voice.

Superman's eyebrows twitch at the way the other man says it...he...technically did touch the Bat when he pushed him into the wall with his superspeed, but the man pulled out his greatest weakness in retaliation. However, he still got to touch the Batman! Veronica licks her lips in excitement at the Bat actually participating and saying something, "Of course! So I take that to mean, he has never tried being forceful with you?" It's Robin that responds this time, his voice innocently confused. "Why would they fight? They're friends."

The set descends into a silent chaos as the audience starts whispering about what was just said, Veronica turning her sights back to the pup, deciding she'll try to suck as much information out of him (in a nice way) as possible, because the boy obviously has all the tea to spill.

He's her strongest weapon right now.

"Oh? They are friends, are they?"

Robin nods absentmindedly while crawling around all over Batman, playfully biting the Bat-ears and tugging as he usually does whenever he's near the omega's head.

"Yeah! B came down today because I overheard Superman asking him if he wanted to do this. Batman said no, but I was super excited at the thought of-" Robin yips at Batman's gloved hands gently grabbing his scruff warningly, not enough to hurt obviously, but to get the excited pup to calm down and stop him from saying anything more. Right...he almost exposed how he was excited to see an audience again, that could cause possible questions to anyone listening extremely closely as to who his civilian identity is. "B-eeee..."

Everyone watches as the pup is gently reprimanded, the boy puffing his cheeks out and snuggling up to the Bat immediately after the punishment, his apologetic puppy squeaks filling the room.

Batman huffs fondly at the boy, ignoring the urge to nuzzle into the boy's neck and gently rubbing his back instead. "He heard us talking and begged me to come on this show. I only came because he likes it so much." Veronica swallows nervously at the man looking at her but nods, "T-That's very sweet of you to do this for Robin. Uh...we have to go on a commercial break, but we'll be right back with more hot topics for these three heroes."

Veronica slumps in her seat as soon as they go to commercial, scrubbing a hand carefully down her face and sighing loudly as the pressure slightly lifts from her shoulders.

Her honey brown eyes eye the trio curiously, watching as the pup is given consolation snacks, her manicured nails tapping unconsciously on her desk as she wonders what the boy was about to say and how she can pull more juicy stuff out of the pup without scaring him off. She enjoys juicy gossip as much as any other drama leech, but she doesn't like to make innocent pups cry, especially not Batman's pup.

Veronica closes her eyes as the makeup artist touches up her face with a powder so she doesn't look so greasy, it's not her fault she was starting to sweat under the intimidating glare of Batman.

The shocked gasp escaping from her makeup artist startles the TV hostess out from her thoughts, her mouth hanging open stupidly at the Bat standing in front of her desk. "Robin was looking forward to performing." Veronica is frozen in place at the command in his tone, as though he expects her to open up a spot for the pup to perform. "O-Oh...I was...supposed to ask questions-"

"Your questions are stupid-"

"Batman!"

Superman zips over to the man, his gaze apologetic towards Veronica for the other's rudeness. "I'm sorry about him, it seems he forgot the conversation he had with Robin about manners."

"What conversation?"

Robin speaks up from around his lollipop, looking between Superman and Veronica curiously. "I don't remember that? I do know I mentioned something about B being suuuuper duuuuper polite and well-mannered." The boy turns fully towards the intimidated and fascinated woman, "Can I pretty please do some tricks for you all? I promise you've never seen anyone perform quite like I have! That's why I came today, B said that I would be able to do something."

Batman grumbles, "I never said that."

Veronica looks between the Bat and his pup before conceding to the puppy eyes she knows the boy is making at her.

"Alright, alright, kid. No need to look at me like that. I'm sure we can open up a spot for you as soon as we come back on air, m'kay?" Veronica straightens out her suit jacket as everyone rushes back into place, her lips twitching up in amusement as Batman quietly tells Robin he can't perform with a lollipop in his mouth, her perfectly trained smile returning as the last commercial plays. "I know that we are getting off of our usual schedule, but it seems that Robin would like to perform some lovely tricks for us today. So if we could give him a warm round of applause as he takes the spotlight to let him know how eager we are to see his special tricks he's learned from Batman himself."

Veronica is thankful for the sound crew in this moment and how they don't bother showing irritation if they have any, but choose to play a song for Robin to do his flips to, the crowd clapping along as the music starts and the boy performs on the open floor.

Robin gives a beaming smile as he begins, reveling in the cheers and aww's he receives anytime he does something particularly cool. It feels as though it's been forever since he's done something like this, even though he knows deep down it probably hasn't been horribly long, it feels...freeing to pull stunts like this once more for an exuberant audience, yet also intimidating, he tries his best to push on despite that prickly feeling appearing again in his chest.

His mind flashes back to that horrible night as his body soars through the air, the anxious feeling spreading through him the more he thinks about it.

That fateful night started just like this too, didn't it?

Robin remembers how excited he was to witness his parents perform, recalls how enthusiastic he was to do his own little show, a-and the audience were just as loud and excited as he was too. Their claps and screams filling his ears as he flipped across the stage...yet unlike then, he feels himself falling-falling-falling--

Everyone gasps as Robin lands awkwardly and falls down with a loud cry, everyone's worried murmurs sounding too loud for the pup's sensitive ears, his hands lifting to cover them in hopes he can't hear the horrified shouts of the audience. A dangerous snarl is heard from Batman towards the camera crew and how they focus on Robin, one of them having the audacity to zoom in on the boy's reaction. "Turn the cameras off, now!" Veronica flinches at the command and waves frantically at her crew, disappointment in her gaze towards the one camera man for his carelessness towards the pup.

Luckily the cameras cut off to a commercial break as Robin shouts, "M-Mommy! Daddy!" The mood tense as the pup reaches out to people who aren't even there, "M-Mama!"

Everyone is too stunned to notice how Batman reacts to the last call, a snarl ripping through his throat at the people watching his son like some spectacle as he quickly gathers the puppy into his arms, securely tucking him away under his cape before gliding off set with his trembling bundle.

Superman can't help his own protective glare directed towards the one specific cameraman before super speeding to the dressing room where he can hear Robin struggling to breathe properly, standing guard outside to make sure no one approaches them and keeping his ear out for the two. "C'mon puppy, breathe with me-" a loud whimper from the boy as Batman shushes him-"I know it's hard to, but mama is right here, it's going to be okay--"

Superman's eyes widen at that and he chooses to stop listening in, standing taller with a warning growl as one of the crew passes by.

"You aren't at the circus, baby. You are right here, on the set of Shut Up! And Spill That Tea, your favorite show, yeah? Can you feel my arms around you?" Batman waits for Robin's slow nod, the omega looking around cautiously before taking off his mask to nuzzle the pup, "That's very good. You are doing so well, honey, but I'm still concerned about your breathing. Just...come here-" he gently turns the boy's head so that his ear is resting on his chest-"Listen to my heartbeat and just follow it as best you can. I'm going to count to five when we inhale and count eight with exhaling, okay? Follow along as best you can."

Robin whimpers, his heartbeat too loud in his own ears, yet warring with the calming, steady sound of Bruce's own.

"One. Two. Three. Four. Five-" Bruce's voice washes over Richard like calming, gently swaying waters, the pup clinging onto the older man's voice like a lifeline as he slowly starts to breathe normally.

Batman, after a couple minutes of repeating the patterns, ends with his own relieved exhale at the pup's breathing evening out into something normal. "Richard..." His voice croons softly to the child at the tears wetting his suit, "Are you okay?" The boy sniffles and nuzzles into Bruce's neck, sniffling the soft and spicy scent of the omega. "I-I'm sorry, mama. I-I couldn't-you were right! I couldn't handle it a-and I made you look-" he's cut off at the hands that gently grab at his tear stained cheeks.

"Don't even finish that sentence. It's not about how you made me look, I already know how I look, and that's fine with me. This is about you and how you are holding up now...you know I understand what you're going through, don't you?" Richard softens at the reminder that Bruce truly does know how he feels, nodding his head gently as he slumps against his mom. 

"Do I...do I have to go back out there?"

Bruce growls protectively, hugging the boy closely, flashbacks of the media bombarding and overwhelming him when he was this age coming to the forefront of his mind. "Never! You never have to be seen by them if you don't want to. Only when you are ready to."

Robin nods softly, the weight of his stress making him sleepy as he rests his head against Bruce's shoulder, his ears twitching at the sound of Batman's communicator chiming, watching sleepily as the omega slips his mask back on and answers. "Alfred says he's on his way back home with ingredients for some chicken noodle soup, if that sounds pleasing to you?"

Robin hums softly with a small smile on his face, nodding and nuzzling into the man as he clears out their scents from the room before exiting the door.

Superman slumps in relief at seeing Robin look a lot less shaken than before, though there's still some lingering shakiness from the sudden flashback. "Is he okay?" Batman tightens his hold on Robin, his hand gently rubbing up and down the pup's back. "Yes. He's going to be fine, Superman-" the omega curses the unwanted warmth he feels at the alpha showing concern for his pup-"We...have to go though, he's not going back out there after that. I'm so-"

The Kryptonian waves off the apology, "Don't even say that, please. I've never heard you apologize for anything before...and I definitely don't want it to be for something like this-" the alpha looks away nervously, wanting to ask so many questions about what he heard the other man say to Robin, but deciding against it as now's not the time-"U-Um...can I give you both a lift home? My cape will keep you both warm and cozy on the trip to...wherever it is you go to." Batman bounces his child higher, adjusting his hold on the boy as he eyes Superman wearily for the offer, softening slightly at realizing it was just a genuine offer. "No, I have my own ride. Batmobile, remember?"

"Oh! Right...right."

The two heroes stand there awkwardly, the soft sound of Robin's snores managing to cut through the tense air as the alpha and omega focus on the boy.

"I should--You should get him home." 

They pause to stare at each other for speaking at the same time, Batman nodding his head in thanks for Superman's understanding as he heads to the exit, his mouth opening slightly in surprise as the Super holds the door open for him.

"Your hands are full."

With a small hum, Batman exits the building, squinting instinctively at the rare show of sunlight shining down through Gotham's sky, the Batmobile's roof sliding open as he nears it. The omega gently settles the pup into his seat while Superman keeps an eye out for any gossip hungry media, heading over to the driver's side after buckling the child up and hesitating before hopping in, his tone uncharacteristically soft as he addresses the alpha, "Thank you."

Superman feels his heart beat furiously in his chest at the gently whispered words, watching the Batmobile race off before turning his eyes up to the bright sky and smiling, remembering exactly why he's so fond of mornings.

(This is taken from my AO3 account here: Thicc_Personality I just thought I'd cross post it here too as I haven't posted anything in a bit 😂. I hope this is enjoyable to someone? You darlings please stay safe, happy, healthy and of course lovely as always. 💛

P.S. Here are the links to—Part 2: The Gala, Part 3: The Search and Part 4: The Girls)

[waywardducks]

BATFAMILY MERMAID AU BC I LOVE MERMAIDS AND IVE BEEN SITTING ON THIS ONE FOR FOREVER (its still a wip)

The tank was huge. It was 347 feet long, 259 feet wide, and 45 feet deep. It's one of the largest aquarium tanks in the world and it's one of Bruce’s greatest achievements.

The tank has several passageways leading to smaller tanks private caves, and a handful of alcoves.

Rays, smaller sharks, groupers, eels, and almost 70 species of fish fill the vibrant tank. But as pretty as the fish are, they aren't the main attraction in this particular tank.

No, that belongs to Bruce’s other greatest achievement. His mers.

He has one of the largest medical rehabilitation centers in the world. The outside is treated like a normal aquarium, with people coming from all over to see the beautiful creatures, but behind the scenes are people going out of their way to rescue and research the mers.

Bruce picked it up from his father. It was a silly dream that the man had had before his parent's murder. Bruce has dedicated his entire life to bringing that dream to life.

He has helped many, hundreds, even, of mermaids and mermen through his facility. Each mer is helped back into ocean life, save for the ones that are too injured or sickly to go back, though, even those mers are free to leave should they choose. Some mers will come back frequently just to say hi are get free check up when they are ill or pregnant or want to show off there progress as thanks.

There are a few smaller tanks that are meant for things like pod training mers who have been alone since pups and don’t know how to handle society, or feral mers that are being retrained to not be violent. There are habitat based tanks as well, made for mers that live in extreme climates, such as selkies that are used to freezing waters or more sensitive tropical fish that can’t acclimate to anything other than their usual warmer waters.

Of all of the mers though, there are a handful that stay for far different reason than that of the sickly or disabled.

It’s a running joke in the community that Bruce is keeping his own orphanage. But if you ask him, he will tell you flat out that the mers are his family or his pod.

He found Dick early on in his endeavors. The mer is a beautiful Betta. An omega orphaned when his pod was tragically killed in a different aquarium. Bruce took him in immediately. Dick ended up being a very clingy pup, and seemed to see Bruce as a form of parent. The betta was flashy, always one to perform and show off his beautiful bluish greenish fins to any curious humans that passed him by.

Bruce stumbled upon Jason on accident. He’s been out at sea one day, enjoying a relaxing summer day in his newest boat when his fishing pole, and all of his bait suddenly disappeared without a trace. A few minutes of frantic looking later, a small, wriggling body floated up to the surface. A merpup had somehow managed to steal all his bait and his pole when he wasn’t looking, but it seemed the poor pup had gotten himself tangled in the fishing line.

Jason is an outcast. His parents were from differing species, making Jason a ‘mutt’. He was shunned by both his species, and his mother was shunned for breeding with a species outside of her own. So of course Bruce took him in. Jason is half grey reef shark and half snapper, leaving him with a red, shiny shark tail. The alpha is every bit territorial as his species would lead him to be, but he’s calmed down a ton since his vicious teen days.

Tim was harder to get than any of Bruce’s other mers. The omega mer was bred in captivity and was quickly taken from his mother almost as soon as he was born. The Drakes were known for their interests in amazing things. They had many statues, precious gems, antique armors and books and anything else they either find on their digs or buy on the black market. One day they decided to add a rare mer to their collection: a crossbreed between a cuttlefish mer and a betta mer. Tim’s tail resembles Dick’s in shape, but his is naturally a red and black ombré, with short and soft fins that decorate his body. It changes colors often though, thanks to his cuttlefish father.

As beautiful and amazing as Tim is, the crossbreeding of his two species has left him with many health complications in his life. A small cut can lead to deadly infections, he is very frail and his scales are much softer/more vulnerable than most other mers. But the worst of it is his omegan side.

The Drakes were ignorant to Tim’s needs growing up. Sure, he had a large tank, food every day, and plenty of puzzles and toys to keep him occupied. But as he grew, the tank stayed the same size, and the puzzles and toys were only fun the first few times you played with them. Bordem sets in quickly, but so does loneliness. Tim very quickly grew depressed in his lonely tank. His heat cycle was thrown off, his instincts were dull, he never had a pod to teach him to be an omega. When Bruce found him, he was like a lifeless doll.

The Drakes managed to avoid jail time with all their money, but rumors spread quickly of the abuse and soon their empire fell.

It took Bruce months to get Tim to warm up to his new podmates, and even longer for him to learn basic omega behaviors. Even now he will still ignore them and his pod still have to remind him to do things like scent his podmates or nest when he's in preheat. Things that should've been ingrained in him since was a pup. Even a pup out on his own, like Jason was, will still have the instincts for these things, but Tim was trapped and left to rot in a cage, his mind never had the chance to develop those needs.

Damien was conceived in the facility. Bruce had wanted to attempt an experiment with a mer that he had become close friends with, Talia. Talia, actually, was the one that brought up the idea. The mermaid loved Bruce dearly and had asked him to be her Sire. Bruce agreed. He loved Talia, but not as mates, and Talia was perfectly fine with that. She mostly saw Bruce as a worthy father for her pups, one that would breed a strong youngling. Bruce artificially inseminated one of Talia's eggs. Half mers were rare. You found them mostly on the black market, offsprings of a trafficked mer, being sold for half price. A mistake caught too late. Some mers and humans fall in love, and have a child of their own will, but that's even rarer.

It’s very hard to find a mer that is compatible with humans. The mer’s DNA needs to have certain traits to be able to conceive. Talia happened to have those traits.

Talia disappeared not long after the insemination. They never even found out if it caught or not before she left. But 9 years later, a half merpup was dropped off at the ocean entrance of the facility.

Damien was half barracuda, half human. Bruce Wayne's only blood son. The pup was aggressive and knew very little English having been born in the Arabian Gulf.

Talia was still nowhere to be seen, though it appeared she was the one who brought Damian the Wayne Center.

Dick, being the caring and loving omega he was, took to Damian like he was his mother. He nursed the pup and raised him. Jason helped teach the pup to control his predatory and alpha instincts. And Bruce did all he could to take care of his son from where he was on land. And Tim.. Tim hid from Damian.

Damian hated Tim. That much was apparent.

Tim, who had never known real love for the first half of his life and had slowly been making progress in understanding and excepting his new family regressed severely when Damain arrived, having been sent spiraling mentally.

Damian came in, teeth bared and ready to fight for his place as Bruce’s son, targeted Tim for being cared for by Bruce the most.

Jason ended up being the one to step up, though. When Tim had first arrived, Jason thought he was being replaced. He went from being the baby, the one that was cooed and coddled by Bruce and Dick, to suddenly being pushed aside for this random omega with no discernable scent that he's being forced to share a tank with. Jason attacked Tim, going straight for the throat. Dick managed to get Jason off of Tim in time to save his life. Bruce quickly had Jason sedated and moved into isolation while Tim was given life-saving procedures. Luckily, somehow, the but didn't get infected, but it left a nasty scar on his throat.

When Jason finally accepted Tim as pack, a year later, he cried for hours, apologizing over and over for the way he had treated the younger.

Tim forgave him easily and the two had grown closer since the incident.

Damien attempted to kill Tim. Tim was still being precariously cared for by Bruce and Dick. With his sicknesses and his tendency to neglect himself, the older two would seemingly give Tim more attention than the young alpha, and Damian hated Tim for it.

Eventually, Tim and Damian finally make up, but they never really get too close. They are always at each other’s throats, constantly fighting. But not more in a sibling way than an actually vicious way

[msfcatlover]

For the Platonic A/B/O verse.

(CW: Steph pretends she & Tim are having/just had sex to make Jack Drake leave them alone. So, like. Um. Vaguely alluded to knotting, I guess. Now there’s a sentence I never thought I’d type.)

--------------------------------------------------

While Tim is convincing Steph to take up the Robin mantle, Tim’s phone rings. He pulls it out and goes pale. “It’s him.”

Steph plucks the phone out of Tim’s hand. Tim squawks in protest, but she just braces one hand against his face, clears her throat, takes a deep breath, and answers it with a voice that is purposefully hoarse & breathless. “Hello?”

There’s a pause on the other end. “You’re not Timothy.”

Steph laughs. “Very observant. Can I ask who’s calling?”

(Tim is still insisting Steph give him the phone, trying to snatch it back.)

“This is his father.”

“Right, right, of course.” Steph pulls the phone away from her ear, glares at Tim, and hisses, “Stop that before you hurt one of us! I’ve got this.” Tim stops out of sheer shock. Steph lifts the phone up to her ear again. “Tim’s a little… indisposed right now. Can I pass on a message?”

Another long pause. “What was your name, again?”

“Stephanie.” She frowns. “Did Tim not tell you about me?”

“Oh, no!” Jack blusters, “he’s mentioned you a lot, I just—listen, Tim’s grounded, he’s supposed to be—“

“Grounded?” Steph pulls the phone away from her ear and asks, “What did you do?” in a voice about x10 as flirty as it is anything else. She brings the phone back up while Tim splutters. “Sorry, Mr. Drake, I didn’t realize he was grounded.”

“It’s fine,” Jack says, “I just need to know when he’ll be home.”

“Uhhhh….” Steph holds the phone away from her face, counts to three, and pulls it back. “Give us about 15 minutes, and I’ll send him right home.”

“Right,” Jack says, somehow even more uncomfortable than Tim. “You do that.” He hangs up.

Steph hands a beet-red Tim his phone back. “And that’s how it’s done!”

“You… I… He…” Tim looks from the phone to Steph, then back again. “We’re not even dating right now?” Tim finally blurts out.

“No,” Steph says, “but he doesn’t know that. And nothing gets family out of your business faster than implying something about your sex life.” She shoves Tim down the hall. “Now go take a shower, so it doesn’t look like I was lying.”

Tim looks at her over his shoulder. “He thinks we’re— I’m probably going to get The Talk again when I get home now, thanks to you!”

Steph grins. “But he’ll never associate me with your hero life, now will he?”

“I might prefer that, actually…”

“Shower, boy blunder, and use the B-soap. The more it looks like you were trying to hide this from him, the more believable it gets.”

(When Tim left, Steph turned around and saw the bag full of Robin gear still sitting at her table. And she’s like, “Well, I’m not going to chase him down to give it back, that’s just embarrassing! I’m sure as hell not going to hand it off to Bruce, those two can work out their own issues. And I really can’t just shove the Robin uniform under my bed and hope to forget about it. So I guess… damn you, Tim Drake, you did this on purpose, didn’t you?”) (Tim did not, in fact, do this on purpose. He wasn’t planning to take the bag home or anything, but he was too busy being absolutely mortified by what was about to happen to remember why he went there in the first place.)

[frownyalfred]

So had a dream where there was a myth dynamic in A/B/O and Bruce was it. The False Alpha.

They smell, act, bulk up, etc like an alpha. Except instead of rut they go into heat, build nests, etc. Their true omegan scent and instincts comes out when they are with people they trust.

The only people who knows that Bruce is an actual omega is Alfred, Lucius Fox, Dr. Thompskins, and ever single bat kid.

Bruce himself didn't even know he was an Omega till his first heat hits(he was acting like alpha about to start rut). Everything was pointing at Bruce with a neon sign that says 'Alpha'.

The irony is the Batkids call Batman 'mom' to their teams and it spreads amongst the younger heroes. Kid Flash calls Batman 'mom' to his face on accident and Bruce just sighs and accepts it. That opens the flood gates for the rest of the younger heroes to call Bruce that.

The Senior Members of the Justice League watches on in growing horror because one of the most 'Alpha' of Alphas is called mom!

I dig this! I've seen a few fics like this, where they take a different path from presenting Bruce as an omega who covers up as an alpha via pheromones sprays and acting, etc. Instead having him kind of be a blend of both makes sense to me!

Actually, one of my favorite renditions of this trope is when Bruce is an alpha, he's the alpha-est of alphas, and they still discover he has a whole nest of pups at home who he's close with. So it's not reducing omegahood entirely to a parenting role, which I admit Bruce fits regardless of dynamic.

[puppetmaster13u]

I was reminded of a Thing from the reblogs on the Mermay 03 Prompt

Very similar vibes. But with platonic omegaverse, and dragons. Gotham? Already cursed to hell and back. But then another curse was formed via the museum bringing in this strange statue. That of course got stolen because solid crystal and gold. Then got broken, split in half. And oop. New Curse.

Now before I get into the curse, lemme explain the omegaverse side of things. Everyone is born a secondary gender labeled Alpha, Omega, or Beta. There's also medical conditions where one is neither, usually a mix of genetic and hormonal issues. Gotham however, is Weird. They have no set scent according to Outsiders. Really? They can shift and switch (Yes there's a large LGTBQ percentage in the population) at will. It can take months for someone new to the city, but those that have been there for a few generations can do it in hours. For those like the Waynes or other founders who have been there since the beginning of the city? Minutes. It's more than a little unnerving to Outsiders who are used to things staying the same.

But that curse (or blessing as others call it) mixed with the new dragon one. See, they can all change into draconic form, and do their best to keep that secret. But they also have different forms depending on the secondary sex they are at that time.

@f4nd0m-fun & @golden-buddle idk if u'd be interested in this but-

[suzukiblu]

Ko-fi thank-you sentences for Kel; Jason gets knocked up and accidentally goes home about it. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

Even Tim’s asleep on the edge of the nest that Jason is inexplicably in. Like, all curled up and hugging his laptop like a teddy bear, but definitely asleep. And Dick’s on the other side of the thing, and that’s Cass pressed up against his back and–is Damian hugging him? In his sleep? Without a visible knife in hand?! 

Jason might’ve fallen into an alternate reality again. Fallen very, very far into an alternate reality. 

At least hopefully, anyway, because if this is his reality, he’s gonna have to deal with whatever the fuck happened last night, and whoever even built this nest that smells like the whole damn Wayne pack and slopes like–like Catherine’s used to, like . . . like . . . 

Fuck. This is his nest, isn’t it. This is exactly how he builds the damn things every time he fucks up enough to go feral. And he definitely went feral, because he doesn’t remember a thing about last night after accidentally ending up at the manor like an idiot, except–wait, no, shit, now he is remembering things about last night, and they’re all fucking mortifying. 

Fuck. 

He needs to get out of here. He has no idea why anybody humored him taking over the living room like he thought he–like he actually–

He needs to get out of here, because the moment somebody wakes up and tells him he needs to leave or, worse, pities him enough to not immediately tell him he needs to leave, he’s gonna lose his entire damn mind. If he just–

Cass’s fingers flex against his chest, very briefly, and he nearly panics. 

Of fucking course he couldn’t wake up in Cass’s arms unnoticed. 

“Jason,” she says quietly, and then Jason is officially fucked, because nobody in this room is gonna sleep through someone actually speaking. 

Why the hell couldn’t she at least have signed it? Why the hell couldn’t–

And then he registers that Bruce is in the room. 

Everyone else wakes up at the sound of Cass’s voice saying his name at the exact same moment that Jason freezes at recognizing Bruce’s scent. 

Bruce’s–Bruce’s . . . sire scent. Not on him, but . . . but still here. Still in the room. 

Jason hasn’t been this close to Bruce’s sire scent since– 

He’s not going to think about that. 

He’s definitely not going to think about that. Not ever. Not for anything. Not–

( he’d scrubbed it off so ANGRILY, that last time; so angry and betrayed and– 

he’d regretted that, on the warehouse floor. he wouldn’t have been able to smell it through the scent blockers in Robin’s suit, but–but–

he’d regretted– )

Jason isn’t thinking about that.

[beautyconsumer]

Thinking about Omega Jason, as usual, as is the one thing I LOVE to write about. Something about his character being "girl coded" and claimed as "hysterical" seduced me (and many) to think he is Omega material altogether.

Anyhow, I think baby fever would hit Jason the hardest right before his heat, he wants babies always but it's then when he can't shove down the urge anymore.

He's horny of course, but it's deeply driven by his need to get pregnant and have babies right about NOW DAMNIT.

Some Alpha needs to approach this man and knock him up right now.

Except Alphas see this 210 lbs and 6'0 man and assume it's another Alpha which is a pain, a tragedy, but there's always the Alpha with a keen eye (and if you know me you know who I'm referring to right now) who's seeing that waist, those child bearing hips, that stacked up chest and comes to the right conclusion.

Jason, who's hot and willing and with a very warm womb won't say no.