Maybe it’s just me, but with all the buzz about kpop demon hunters, it really surprised me that people don’t seem to talk about the fact that Rumi asked essentially her mother figure to “do what she should have done long ago” and probably decapitate her. That seems like a facet of her repressed trauma and self hatred that maybe should be addressed…
No one asked, but I'm gonna write it anyway. Here's a Jason Todd experiences the dad gene when he finds Danny in an alley and has to fight not just some thugs, but also the urge to adopt on the spot
Ao3
Part 1 |Part 2 |Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 |Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | | Part 11 | Part 12 |
Jason's heavy boots are stomping hard against the black Gotham pavement. Not his Red Hood boots, no, just his plain old Jason Peter Todd boots. The splash he sends over his jeans from stepping in one more puddle does not help his growing anger, either.
It's been a long fucking day. Long fucking week, actually. From handling crime to his own underlings to his siblings, this week was just too goddamn much. And it was just Wednesday.
Bruce wanted a, what did he call it? Ah, yes, a 'family brunch'. A brunch that turned into lunch turned into "Bruce I swear to god just fuck off" at 4 in the afternoon.
He's almost at the block where his most comfy hideout was at, his 'real' apartment, when he gets soaked by a passing car, not even slowing down in the slightest when he nears a giant lake forming on the side of the street.
Jason doesn't even bother yelling or even grunting when he turns into the next alleyway and punches the nearest dumpster, leaving an immense fist shaped dent in the rusting metal.
"Off all days", he mutters, dripping wet hoodie pulled over his face. "One day of peace, just the one, can't I have that?"
Thunder rolls overhead and he takes it as a universal no when the rain becomes heavier and water starts collecting in his boots.
"You kill a few people!" he exclaims, waving his hands in the air, "You try to make up for it! You even move back to the shitty city it aaaaaallll started in, you even promise not to kill anymore, and what? Can't have one, just one tiny bit of reprieve?"
He punches at the wall behind the dumpster, less impactful but enough to rattle the brick façade as he shakes his anger off.
Hints of green are pricking at the corners of his eyes, but he takes deep breaths, forcing them away with evened breathing.
'Not now. Not today. We're not doing this'
He's almost at a calm pace when he hears gunshots further down the alley, instinctively reaching for his own guns until he realizes he's in civies.
He grunts, but still pursues the commotion. He doesn't need guns to punch someone, after all.
Jason expects a mugging, a hit-and-run, or even assault of the worst kind and is ready to crack skulls instead of walls when he sees two gunmen cowering behind a heap of trash, guns pointed at a kid who couldn't be more than 15 at best.
Even more bizarre is the fact they're shaking not from the cold, but from fear. A closer look at the boy shows him the boy is hunched over, snarling and guarding what looks to be a thermos and a myriad of small boxes, exuding an eerie familiar green glow.
He outright growls at the men to back off and when the two men refuse, he braces himself for an impact of several bullets, were it not for Jason.
He snatches the guns from their hands with such an amazing speed he barely has time to register the guns he's holding, ammo dropping to the ground and shoved to the side along with the weapons he pulled it out from.
"If you have half a braincell between you two", he towers over the trembling men, "You leave and don't look back. Capice?"
He says it more like an order than a question and the scrambled attempts at running away are more than enough of an answer for him. But something tells him, it's not from him they run.
He looks back at the kid, worried he might be bleeding somewhere when he sees him calmly packing up the items on the ground.
"Uhm, hey, are you-"
Jason moves closer but halts. The boy hisses and protectively holds the cubes and thermos to his chest. The same green colour flows from his eyes and he can see patches of it on his utterly soaked hoodie and t-shirt. More importantly, he can see it in his cheeks.
He stares at the kid who's breathing in heavily and whose eyelids drop lower with every second standing there in the rain despite the fixed gaze he keeps on him.
He may not know why he has the weird coloration in his cheeks, or what the patches are from, but he knows a fever when he sees one.
"I'm not gonna hurt you", he keeps his hands up, palms outstretched towards him, "I just wanna help."
Jason expects the boy to yell. In all honestly, that would've been the normal response. To tell him to fuck off or for him to run, really. There's all sorts of responses he has gotten over the years, friends and foes alike.
When the boy disappears before his eyes, that startles him, sure. Wouldn't have been the first time he finds a meta with teleportation powers or someone with super speed.
But when he turns around and finds the boy sniffing him, he doesn't exactly know how to react.
"Uuuuhm...I'm not-, I don't-," he slowly tries to add more space between him and the boy, but the kid creeps closer, vibrant green eyes boring into his skull , and Jason swears the kid is floating, until he finally seems satisfied somehow when he rests against his chest and breathes out a long, tired sigh.
The kid clutches his belongings close to his chest as they stand there in the pouring rain, just the sound of water crashing into the sewers below.
Jason isn't quite sure how to react to that. He decides to comfort the kid and slowly pats him on his back.
"There there", he says, mentally already picturing Dick scolding him for his approach but in his defense, what the fuck was he supposed to do?
'Be a functioning adult?' he hears Dick scream in his head but let's be real here, was he either of those things?
A purple backpack then catches his attention, a noticeable hole on the bottom of it.
"That yours?" he points, and the boy barely glances up from where he's standing.
"Yeah", he mutters with a drawl.
"Alright, you have a name to go along with that backpack?"
The boy waits a moment before he speaks up again. The silence grates against his nerves with the boy standing so close to him.
He replies softly, like he's scared someone else but Jason will hear him.
"Danny."
"Danny. Okay Danny, how about we grab your backpack and find shelter?"
He gently pries the boy away from him as he marches over towards the purple bag.
"I know there's a homeless shelter nearby, if you don't have a place to stay at, and there's a diner across from it where you can get some fo-"
A loud thump makes him spin around, dropping the backpack to the ground again when he sees the boy, Danny, had collapsed, still clutching the cubes tightly.
Jason rushes over, unsure of how to proceed with this clearly non-human kid as he goes over his options.
He is definitely not calling Bruce or any of the other birds, fuck that. He doesn't need help that bad. But just dropping him off somewhere else is out of the question too.
He glances around for a solution to drop out of the air when he spots the balcony to his apartment, begging him to come home.
Jason sighs, taking the boy and his stuff in his arms as he starts making his way home again.
Steve and Eddie stare at each other, wide-eyed, for a second before jumping into action.
Steve reaches the door before Eddie, throwing it open and running down the hall, Eddie on his heels.
He opens his door and breathes a sigh of relief when he sees El alone in his bed, writhing and crying, clearly caught in a nightmare. “El,” he murmurs, walking closer to the bed so he can sit on the edge. “Wake up, Ellie. It’s okay. It’s just a dream.”
“N-no,” El whimpers, letting out another small scream. “Please!”
“El,” Steve says again, laying a gentle hand on her arm. “You’re okay. It’s just a dream, it can’t hurt you now. Wake up, Ellie. You’re okay.”
Another violent twist and she’s sitting up with a gasp, throwing her arm out to the side and causing Steve to slam into the wall. He lets out a groan on impact, the air knocked out of his lungs, but does a quick check and seems to be okay.
He gets up—carefully, with Eddie’s help—and walks over to the bed again, where El’s looking at him with saucer-wide eyes. “I’m s-sorry,” she whimpers, tears on her cheeks for an entirely different reason now.
“It’s okay.” He smiles at her and opens his arms, offering a hug, which she immediately burrows into.
He passes a hand over her head and tugs her in tighter. “Wanna tell me what you were dreaming about? It can make it easier to go back to sleep.”
Hot tears begin falling on his neck. “Papa,” she whispers, and he lets out a harsh breath as quiet sobs start up again.
“Oh, Ellie,” he murmurs, rocking them from side to side. “You’re okay. I’m right here, he can’t hurt you anymore. I won’t let him. I’ve got you, okay?”
She nods, but her grip doesn’t get any lighter. Steve looks up at Eddie with an apologetic expression. “Go to bed,” he murmurs. “It’s okay. I’m gonna stay with her tonight.”
El moves her head enough so she can see who he’s talking to, then pops her head up even as tears fall from her eyes. “No,” she sniffles. “He can stay.”
Eddie hesitates in the doorway, looking between El and Steve, who’s cupping her cheeks with his hands. “You’re sure? He can go back to the guest room, I’m happy to stay here if you want me.”
She adamantly shakes her head. “I want him, too.”
Eddie steps into the room with a small smile. “The lady has spoken, Stevie, I think it’s smart we listen to her.”
Steve chuckles. “I think you might be right. You’re okay with staying?”
“Why of course I am!” He says jovially. His eyes are more serious, though, and they’re telling Steve that yes, he really is okay with it.
Eddie turns to El with a small, mischievous smile on his face. “Steve’s a pretty good hugger,” he starts, “but I’ve been told I’m not too bad myself. And I’ve got a secret magic nightmare eraser that my Uncle Wayne taught me. You wanna test it out?” He asks, arms out in a suggestion of a hug.
She considers it for all of five seconds before nodding and moving over to Eddie, letting him wrap his arms around her. “Okay,” Eddie says, pulling her into a tight hug and nuzzling at her neck until she giggles and tries to squirm away. “How about we all lay down together?”
El nods, so Eddie situates them with El between him and Steve, so they can both hug her if she decides she wants it. “You comfy?” He checks, smiling when she nods and burrows further under the covers.
“You said you have a secret magic nightmare eraser.”
“I do,” Eddie nods. “And it works so good.” He pretends to look around before stage-whispering to El, “But if it doesn’t work, it’s Uncle Wayne’s fault.”
El giggles again, and Eddie feels his heart skip a beat. She’s so little with such a weight on her already. He meets Steve’s eyes, over her form, and knows they’re both thinking the same thing: there’s no way they’re letting Vecna win this.
Whatever it takes, he silently vows to himself, and hopes it doesn’t come down to his life on the line.
He knows he’d give it up in a heartbeat if it meant just one of these kids lived instead.
Steve’s expression is pained, like he can read Eddie’s mind and know what he’s thinking about. “Eddie,” he murmurs, but thankfully doesn’t remark on it, just says, “What’s your magic secret nightmare eraser?”
Eddie grins, allowing himself to be pulled back into the moment. “Secret magic nightmare eraser, Stevie, don’t disparage the name Wayne gave it.”
Steve chuckles, raises his hands in surrender, and settles in to listen.
"Uncle Taire can I sleep with you and pa?," said the five-year-old and just slip in sandwiched between them with her little blanky. Grantaire blinked slightly, Enjolras was already dead to the world and his little girl was nuzzling under his arm and bundled with Grantaire's shirt, and all he could feel was warmth.
(An art illustration for a fic I'm writing. It's in Vietnamese tho so I'm terribly sorry for non Vietnamese speakers)
