An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Chapters: 8/18
Fandom: Batman - All Media Types
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Roy Harper/Jason Todd, Clark Kent/Bruce Wayne, Lex Luthor/Dan the Alpha, Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Lex Luthor & Jason Todd, Alfred Pennyworth & Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth & Jason Todd
Characters: Jason Todd, Roy Harper, Bruce Wayne, Clark Kent, Lex Luthor, Dan the Alpha, Oliver Queen, Original Child(ren) of Clark Kent and Bruce Wayne, Alfred Pennyworth, Ra's al Ghul, Talia al Ghul
Series: Part 4 of a room full of coral
Chapter Summary:
“Are you currently bonded with the sire in any way, shape or form?”
“No,” Lex said, then added: “Your Honor.”
“And are you currently suffering ill effects because of that missing bond?” Judge Meier asked.
Lex stared at her, at her sharp eyes, and realized he couldn’t lie to her. Not successfully, at least. Not without practice.
“Yes.”
Behind him, Dan made a choked-off noise, like he was in pain.
“Shh!” Sky hisses, flicking his ears. Something rustles in the trees and everyone stills. He keeps his eyes scanning for movement and is rewarded by something slipping behind a tree.
Whatever it is knows they’re here. Sky places his feet with care and advances, focusing on that spot. If they can flank the monster and close in, they’ll have this problem settled in no time. How they get back is another matter altogether.
The bright notes of an ocarina shatter the silence. It’s not a song Sky is familiar with. Even more, it’s out of place. Why would a monster be playing a song? Maybe this isn’t a monster, but someone they should help. Yet why would Fi glow like this?
Before Sky can advance or motion for someone else to flank, there’s a loud ripping sound. It’s somewhere between tearing fabric and a scream, nearly too high to hear. Whatever it is, it’s wrong.
The alpha bolts for the tree, skidding to a halt at the rent in the air. Whatever made it is gone. Time bumps his shoulder as he comes to an abrupt halt behind him. Then the rip stitches itself back together—bumpy and warped.
“What in Hylia’s name was that?”
Time heaves a deep sigh, ruffling his hair with his breadth. The proximity has the alpha tensing, sending out a warning scent. Time quickly steps back and ducks his eyes. “I think we could use a break. This will take some explaining.”
I saw @omega-multiverse‘s post on formal pack structures here, and it got me thinking about what Class 1-A’s structure would be as a pack, so here we are:
Some parts of this chart are a little confusing so let me explain what’s going on.
Because the pack is so large, it’s been broken down into four sub-packs, with Todoroki, Kirishima, Shoji, and Satou as each sub-pack’s head alphas. This was mainly done to keep order. Thanks to the alphan natural instinct to lead, it would’ve been near impossible for one or two head alphas to keep the other six or five alphas of the pack in line; the pack would’ve collapsed within weeks.
Iida and Yaoyorozu are the head male alpha and head female alpha of the pack. Each sub-pack’s alpha is underneath one of them, while they are on equal standing with one another. They consult each other on pack-wide decisions, and while they have the power to make decisions for anyone in their sub-packs, they normally consult each other on those decisions as well.
For an example of how the structure of power works, take this scenario; Kaminari has received a courting gift from Shinsou, and it has to be decided if Shinsou is a good enough candidate to mate into the pack if the courting is allowed. Because Kaminari is in Kirishima’s sub-pack, it is first Kirishima’s decision. He will consult Kaminari, Sero, Bakugou, Ashido, and Jirou, and then make a decision. If he decides Shinsou isn’t good enough, the courting ends there. If he decides Shinsou is, the decision goes to the head alphas.
If Kaminari was trying to mate with someone in one of Iida’s sub-packs, let’s say Midoriya, the decision would be all Iida’s, as both Kaminari and Midoriya are under him. But because Shinsou is an outsider trying to mate into the pack, the decision must be made by Iida and Yaoyorozu unanimously.
(This is the completely logical progression of this scenerio, but in reality the decision would be mainly left up to Kaminari and Kirishima, Iida, and Yaoyorozu would just agree with his verdict because they’d all think he was the authority on decisions about his own relationships).
As you may have noticed, Jirou is in a special position. Despite being Yaoyorozu’s mate, she’s in Kirishima’s sub-pack. As Yaoyorozu’s alpha mate, Jirou is the third most powerful alpha in the pack, putting her unfairly above the other four alphas. To balance it out, she’s in Kirishima’s sub-pack. This makes it so that while she’s the most powerful alpha under Momo, she’s the third most powerful alpha under Iida. This puts her above Shoji and Satou, but below Todoroki and Kirishima. 2 - 2 = 0, making her relatively on par with every alpha in the pack besides Iida and Yaoyorozu.
I’ll only be posting the first chapter here. The rest will be on AO3.
Synopsis:
Kote was raised to believe the jedi were near gods of infinite power who only accepted the best of the best. But when he meets an injured soft eyed man with coppery hair and a sweet smile- he realizes that jedi are more fragile than he'd been led to believe.
Something about this man, his gentle sincerity, endless kindness, and fiery determination, calls out to him. Calls out to all of the vode. They were told they were created for the jedi. But Kote can't help but thinking that maybe... it was the jedi who were made for them.
Tags: Alien biology, Taung ancestry, obsessive and possessive behavior, dubious morality, clone culture and pack dynamics/hierarchy.
Characters: Obi-wan, Cody, Rex, the 212th
Pairings: Obi-wan/Cody, Obi-wan/Rex, Obi-wan/212th
Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26782984/chapters/65336146
The first thing they learned as cadets was that they were made for the Jedi. All powerful and aloof beings that would find them wanting if they weren’t good enough, fast enough, strong enough, or smart enough. The second thing they learned was what happened to those who didn’t make the cut. The brothers who disappeared one cycle and never returned. The ones with the wrong color of hair or eyes, the ones who had trouble learning, the ones whose hands shook when they whispered late at night ‘I can’t do this anymore.’
Nothing but the best would do for the Jedi.
Rising through all of that was a near impossible task and yet some vode found solace in the struggle, in the challenge. Kote was one of them. Jango himself had named the future clone commander after a particularly nasty test called the Gauntlet. Kote had stood tall against the challengers and held his position at the top, never allowing a single vod or even trainer to unseat him. He was moved straight to the command track the next day.
As they grew they were introduced more and more to the idea of Jedi and what serving the Republic would be like. Soldiers, they were, and fighting was in their blood. But something struck Kote as odd. What he could find of the Jedi painted them not as war heroes but as some kind of peace keeper. He began to wonder why the Jedi, powerful beings of near limitless power with the ability to move things with their mind, would need an army. If one of them was worth an entire battalion… then why were there battalions to begin with?
The first time he saw a Jedi he knew immediately who and what they were. Brown robes, soaked from the rain, and pale skin that could barely be seen from under the wide hood. A thrill of anticipation ran through him. He had so many questions he wanted to ask, so many things he needed to know.
Then the hood came down and he froze. Copper locks, the likes of which he’d never seen before, and liquid blue eyes that made his heart speed in his chest. “Huh, Stewjoni. Don’t see that every day.” Two of the trainers had been doing a review of the troops, pitting them against each other in some sort of game to see how well they could think on the field. Both of them stopped to watch the Jedi as they passed. “Wonder how the Jetii manage to keep them away from all the slavers. Stewjoni are a rare breed.” Kote’s eyes followed the Jedi until they were out of sight- he needed to do research.
Stewjoni, it turns out, were a race of near-humans who were known for their high fertility and advanced adaptability. They could survive, and even thrive, almost anywhere. Them being a Jedi just made all the more sense to him now. And yet… the Jedi had looked so small next to the Kaminoans. There was something almost meek and gentle about them that made Kote frown in concern. He hoped he would be able to see them again and ask all the questions burning a hole in his mind.
Kote, and a large chunk of the command class, had never really put much stock in the Force or the Manda the trainers occasionally spoke about. So when he came across the Jedi again on his way to a class he was stunned still for a moment. The Jedi, who really needed a name, leaned against the white walls as if trying to keep themselves standing. Their cloak was gone and their uniform was soaked through, as if they’d decided to take a swim in the raging ocean below. Their hair was almost the color of blood and there was a bruise on their cheek. Kote started when he realized they were wounded.
“Sir!” The Jedi turned to look at him and fear crossed their face for a moment before it was hidden behind a blank mask. Kote knew that expression well and it shocked him to the core to see it one someone who was supposed to be his superior. “Let me help you to medical, Sir.” He said quietly, holding up his hands in a placating gesture often used on the more skittish of the young cadets. The Jedi gave him a small smile, trying to wave him off.
“Oh, no, I am perfectly fine. No need to see a medic. I’m only catching my breath.” They looked up at him, straightening, and Kote was surprised to find the Jedi was smaller than he was. Not by much, but it was enough. Funny, he’d never thought they would be smaller than he and his brothers. “Your, um, template?” The question was tentative, as if the Jedi wasn’t quite sure how to ask.
“The Prime.” Kote answered easily enough, liking the way the Jedi’s expression softened to appreciation.
“Ah, yes, thank you. The Prime, that is Jango, and I had a bit of a disagreement. I’m afraid my ship was utterly destroyed before he tossed me into the ocean.” There was a lightness to their voice, a hint of humor. It almost made him ignore the statement itself. Almost.
“The Prime did what!?” The Jedi shrank back slightly, as if worried about his reaction to the news. Honestly Kote was surprised he could read the nearly inexistent body language, especially with the loose clothing they were wearing. But there was something so expressive about their eyes, something that drew him in. “Sir, please at least let one of my medics check you over.” Knowing that the Jedi were supposedly mind readers he tried to force sincerity and concern into every single word. The Jedi shuddered slightly and licked his lips before slowly nodding. In relief Kote reached out and took the Jedi’s nearest arm, putting it over his neck and slipping an arm around the Jedi’s back to help him walk.
“This is completely unnecessary, you… ah.” Kote looked down at them when they faltered, finding the slight flush of their skin to be endearing. “I’m afraid I didn’t get your name.” Kote frowned slightly.
“Sorry, Sir. I am CC-2224.” There was a very pointed silence for a moment that he could almost feel. The hand over his shoulder clung even harder to his armor for a moment. “Or… you could call me Kote, if you prefer.” It was a risk, a gamble. There was no reason to believe a Jedi would care about something so simple as a name. Yet the relieved smile he received was enough to make his tense shoulders relax.
“Thank you for trusting me with your name, Kote.” The Jedi blinked for a moment, then frowned. “Is it Cody, or Glory? Like Darasuum Kote?” Hearing the Mando’a fall from their soft lips so easily made something light up inside him, something he couldn’t explain or control. He had to swallow hard past the sudden lump in his throat in order to reply.
“Bal kote, darasuum kote.” He murmured, feeling the tips of his ears burn.
“Suvarir. Kote it is.” They paused and a sheepish look crossed their face. “My name is Obi-wan Kenobi, He/Him, I am a Knight of the Jedi Order.” Kote tilted his head, wondering what that was in terms of rank. The Jedi were supposed to be their Generals, so he suspected it was something in that vein. He also didn’t miss how the Jedi had labeled himself as male, or at the very least using male terms. Kote would have to be sure to use them. Some of the trainers got particularly incensed when you messed up and called them by the wrong term.
As they walked further into Tipoca city every brother they passed quickly snapped to attention, trying desperately to hide the surprise and glee at finally seeing a Jedi in their midst before realizing that he was hurt. Even without looking Kote could just feel the sudden worry and concern, like a tangible sensation against his skin. Under his arm the Jedi shivered, although he couldn’t tell if it was from the cold or from the thoughts of his brothers around them. Eventually he sat them down in a common area and barked for a medic. The battalions had been assigned for half a year now, so everyone already knew their place. Where Kote went the rest of his battalion wasn’t far behind. So it wasn’t really a surprise when Stitch practically materialized next to them and began to fuss.
“Sir, what happened to you?” There was a hush as the clones waited to hear the Jedi speak. Kote already knew what his voice sounded like and even he was excited to hear that voice once again. The Jedi looked around at them wide eyed and politely cleared his throat.
“As I was telling Kote on the way here. I had a… disagreement with the Prime.” He glanced to Kote, as if trying to gauge whether he’d said it right. Kote gave him a small nod of acknowledgment and the Jedi continued. “We fought and my ship was destroyed. I ended up in the ocean, it was all quite unpleasant.” The hushed anticipation turned to awe. Even with their superior genetics none of them had ever been able to go toe to toe with the Prime. The fact that the Jedi didn’t have any broken limbs or was bleeding out all over the floor was impressive to say the least.
Stitch tugged at the Jedi’s clothes and got an annoyed look in response. The medic just scowled imperiously. “Sir, I can’t check you over properly unless you remove your… tops.” They weren’t quite sure what to call the loose cloth that covered the Jedi but it was obviously in the way. Seeing no objections, no one to back him up, the Jedi let out a sigh and finally complied. Kote tried not to stare at the pale scarred flesh, only focusing on the spreading yellow bruise over his right side. For the first time in his life he felt a small pang of jealousy as Stitch ran careful fingers over pale skin.
“Sir, you have at least three cracked ribs, multiple contusions, and a twisted ankle. I can administer a pain killer and some bacta, but that’s the best I can do at this time. I’m only a medic.” The Jedi smiled and shook his head.
“Really, there’s no need, I’ll be f-”
“What’s all this?” An unwanted voice called into the quiet moment of awe. Kote clenched his fists even as he straightened in response to a voice that he had been taught to obey. Sergeant Priest shoved past the troopers milling about. The man stopped once he could finally see the Jedi and his face contorted with disdain. “Jetii!” He hissed, reaching for his weapon.
Without a second thought three of the vode tackled the training sergeant to the floor. It didn’t matter if they were scared of him, it didn’t matter that he had a weapon and they had none, Priest had attempted to attack the Jedi. The Jedi who had been wounded in a previous fight and was sitting there amongst them, looking small and vulnerable. All of their instincts kicked in as the need to protect the Jedi took over.
“Get off of me!” The sergeant growled, trying to kick and punch the vode who were holding him down. The Jedi rose from the bench and moved closer to the struggling men. Kote wanted to reach out and stop him but found himself rooted to the spot when those blue eyes darkened to a stormy gray. Priest stopped moving and glared up at the Jedi. “You’re Kryze’s pet jetii, dar’manda whore!” He spat, face reddening with anger and strain. The Jedi stiffened in surprise before reaching out a hand and holding it above the sergeant’s face.
“Sleep.” Sergeant Priest shook his head vigorously, though his struggles were becoming weaker. “Go to sleep.” The Jedi wasn’t loud or even particularly forceful but there was something firm in his voice that felt unnatural, otherworldly. Priest’s eyes rolled back slightly before he slumped to the ground, unconscious. Whatever he’d done had rendered the man no longer a threat. The vode who had been holding onto him relaxed and slowly got up.
“Sir, we’ll see to it he’s locked up.” The Jedi smiled, though he wavered slightly on the spot.
“Thank you. I don’t want him to hurt anyone else.” There was a pause and a sigh. “I didn’t think that Jango Fett would allow Kyr’tsad anywhere near him, let alone allow someone like that to train his…” He shook his head almost sadly before he seemed to remember he had an audience.
Now that the danger was over there was more than one vod whose eyes were slowly trailing over his still unclothed chest and back. The Jedi’s face flushed beneath his beard and he shuffled nervously on his feet for a moment. “Sir, sit down and let me do my job. You need bacta. I’m worried about that sprain.” Thankfully Stitch was a persistent bastard of a vod and quickly hustled the Jedi back to the bench.
“Kote!” Turning he spied his favourite brother and smiled. Rex was a little winded, he’d probably run the entire way. Skidding to a stop next to him his brother opened his mouth to ask a question but stopped. His eyes had continued onward toward the odd splash of color in their midst and suddenly whatever his brother had meant to ask was gone to the void. Rex’s mouth hung open as he gaped at the half naked Jedi. Kote nudged him with an elbow and Rex shook for a moment, as if pulling himself out of a daydream.
“Is that-” Kote nodded.
‘Jedi. Mine. Get your own.’ It was only meant to be a playful jab, a throwaway joke, but something deep in his mind curled around the idea, clinging to it. The clones had been made for the Jedi, of course they would belong to them. But… why? Why did they need the clones if they were so powerful? He knew the Kaminoans were constantly lying, during testing, during class. Even the training sergeants disliked and distrusted the Kaminoans. So why should they blindly believe-
His brother responded by slapping him on the back of the head, which immediately broke through his thoughts. He glared at Rex, who gave him a cheeky smirk in return.
“Oh, hello there.” That soft voice called out to them. Rex turned to look at the Jedi and froze, expression carefully blank. Kote knew he was worried what the Jedi would think of him. After all the strict training and harsh testing Rex had been through, solely due to the color of his hair, he knew his brother was expecting to be found wanting. Even if he was one of the most talented vode.
“Sir.” Rex said, sanding at attention. The Jedi’s smile faltered slightly for a moment but it quickly returned.
“Who might you be?” Rex glanced at Kote, who signed a quick ‘designation,’ at him. His brother took a breath.
“CT-75-” The Jedi waved his hand in the air and Rex’s mouth shut with a snap.
“Oh, no, I… if you happen to have a name you prefer? I would be more than happy to use it.” Kote watched Rex as his brother digested the Jedi’s words before giving a slow, wary, nod.
“Rex.” The smile his brother received was one that Kote would be unable to forget as long as he lived. It was like seeing the sun for the first time.
“Oh thank the force! Please, if you all have names I would be honored to use them. None of this numbers business.” He faltered slightly, looking around. “Unless of course you prefer your numbers, in which case I will honor your decision and do my best to remember.” It was like a shock wave went through them. No one had ever told them they had a choice before.
“Thank you, Sir.” The Jedi looked up at him oddly, a slight frown on his lips.
“For what, Kote?” Stars, he could get used to hearing his name in that soft lilting voice.
“For using our names.” For giving them the choice to use them. A fierce look came over the Jedi and he stood, arms crossed over his chest.
“It’s what you all should have had from the beginning. You are all sentient beings with your own thoughts, feelings, and preferences. Each and every one of you shines differently in the force. You may look alike on the surface, Kote, but you are all unique.” A hush fell over them all as he spoke. There was a fire inside the Jedi that touched something within them, setting the tinder in their souls aflame.
“Sir.” Kote said, stepping closer and giving a proper salute. “We are at your command.” His, and no one else’s. Kote had already decided. This Jedi was his and he would kill anyone who tried to get in his way.
i like how desperate you seem (in the way you look at me)
Author: fatal (cumrich)
pairing(s): jikook
Rating: E
Length: 86.1k (ongoing)
Warning(s): none
Summary:
packs merge all the time. it's survival. jimin knows that, but what he's not prepared for is the attention he's getting from a certain jeon jeongguk, the alpha's son.
On AO3
I once read a (gorgeous) mwpp era fic where the marauders joined remus for the first time as animagi and pads?? For some reason?? Was the alpha of the pack??? I actually had to step back for a bit to understand the writer's intentions (& i get it they had good reasons) but i'm still a lil baffled and kinda stupidly offended because i don't think The Wolf could ever submit to anyone, not even to the one he loves? I think moony is more of a protector of the pack, not the one who's being protected,
I’m with you, Nonny, I don’t think the wolf would submit either.
If the fic is well-written I’d read it, though I can’t ever remember reading something like this. I’d be curious to see how it played out. I definitely think Moony would be the alpha of the pack and the others would submit. Even if Padfoot was larger in size, which he is described in canon as being the size of a bear, then I still think Moony would be the most dominant.
But that’s the beautiful thing about fanfic and head canons. We’re all allowed to explore a million different options and pick what we like. There’s certain accepted fanons that are prevalent throughout most fics, but I do like to see some variations and how different authors interpret things.
I’d love a link to the fic if you have it so I can check it out! Thanks for the ask, love. 💚
I did a pack structure diagram for Pack 1-A here, and decided to do one for 1-B while I was at it.
1-B’s pack structure is fairly similar to 1-A’s, though they only have one head alpha instead of two (I mainly decided this because we don’t know who their vice president is). Because we don’t know much about 1-B’s relationships with one another, I mainly structured the sub-packs by the teams in the joint training arc.
A beta animal is second-in-command to the reigning alpha and will act as a new alpha animal if the old alpha dies. In some species...the males pair up in twos when courting, the beta male aiding the alpha male. The beta male does not generally get to mate with the female...but if the alpha dies, he takes over the alpha's females, becoming the new alpha.It has been found that the social context of the animals has a significant impact on courtship behaviour and the overall reproductive success of that animal.
Omega is an antonym used to refer to the lowest caste of the hierarchical society. Omegas are subordinated to all others in the community. They might be used as scapegoats and are commonly the last allowed to eat.
So if Derek (being the Alpha) dies, which of the pack would be the next to mate with Stiles?
I'm loving the idea of writing a fic with the rest of the pack trying to win Stiles over to get him as their mate. Pack feels galore no doubt lol
