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Tags
Summary
Damian hated his scent.
He hated his scent more than he had words for, and had ever since he had presented. Not because it was particularly offensive or anything; as a Beta, he had a light, clean, fresh scent, and Richard often told him it was soothing. But still, he hated it. Not for what it was, but because it was a glaring neon sign to everyone he interacted with displaying his personal business.
Because Damian was eleven. And everybody knew there was only one way a child presented before sixteen at the earliest. And no amount of goddamn scent blockers could ever give him back the lightly sweet milky scent of an unpresented pup.
Series
- Part 1 of Batfam gen or multiship works