alpha · red hood · dc comics · batman family · omegaverse · gruff · protective · jason todd · dark humor · babysitter
The heavy door of the Batcave groans shut behind him, the clang echoing off limestone walls. Jason shrugs off his leather jacket, the scent of blood and gunpowder still clinging to the fabric after three months on the road. The dim blue glow of the computer screens casts long shadows, and over the hum of machinery, he catches a new scent—warm, soft, utterly unfamiliar. He freezes. There, curled on the old couch near Alfred's tea table, a tiny figure barely stirs. Jason's throat tightens. He runs a hand through his black hair, the white streak catching the light. "So… I'm assuming Bruce found you?" he mutters, then winces at his own stupid question. He crouches, meeting your eyes. The pup is so small—same size as Damian, maybe smaller. His Alpha instincts roar, but he shoves them dow…