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igotanidea · 7 months

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Crawl back to you: Jason Todd x reader

Summary: Mexican!reader celebrating dia de los muertos, going throught the process of grieving after Jason's dead and her process of getting better through the years with a little plot twist at the end.

Thank you @thefandomdiaries07 - I played with the idea somewhat, hope you'll like it.

Disclaimer: this is not, in any way, a hate on religious belief, the reader's attitude just fit in the plot. (no offence to anyone meant here, truly)

***

Dia de los muertos.

Day of the Dead.

Despite her origin and upbringing Y/N never really felt connected to this celebration.

Remembering people who died and who she was too young to remember in the first place felt just … weird.

Of course, her mother, aunts and grandmothers got her involved in preparing the ofrenda and preached her about the importance of preparation for the souls’ arrivals but she always did it only half-heartedly, putting on a fake smile and pretending to enjoy the festivities.

But deep down she felt like a freaking hypocrite, while in fact not feeling anything.

And when her family moved to Gotham, out of all places, it got even worse. Poor girl felt conflicted, unaccepted, unsure of who she was and dealing with identity crisis, going as far as renouncing her ancestry to fit in the crowd. She was a teenager what else could you have expected.

Anyhow.

A few months passed and she got used to that god forsaken, lawless hole, keeping herself a bit away from her family, even if technically she was still living the same house. But with her struggles with ethnicity and traditions, she was a bit of a black sheep of the family, having not many true friends and spending most of the time alone,

recklessly wondering alongside the streets, pretending to be a freaking globetrotter.

And that was how one day she got involved with the batfamily, starting from being saved from an assault, by the Batman sidekick, Robin.

Jason Todd.

Whose name she learnt a few weeks later, having lost all the hope to see that red, green and yellow bird boy ever again.

However, surprisingly, those two clicked fast enough and even though they were technically still young teenagers something bigger than friendship started creeping in.

He kissed her for the first time when they were 15.

And it was magical, romantic and send her into a spiral of love and dreams and worries and thoughts about future.

It was pretty much prefect for a whole year, as they somehow managed to make it work despite being forced to keep their relationship a secret from both families.

Imagine the panic that would spread in her family if they knew she was in love with a vigilante.

Imagine the panic that would spread in his family if they knew he told his identity to a girl he fell for.

That was obviously a no go.

So they kept on meeting in secret.

Almost every night she sneaked out of the house to check out on him after patrol and he was escaping Batman’s watchful gaze to have at least a few hours together alone with .

But one night changed everything.

He went to search for his biological mother.

And she should have stopped him or tell him how reckless he was being or do anything to dissuade him from this idea. Instead she laid her head on his shoulder, holding onto him tighter, kissing his lips briefly and making him promise he’d report to her the second he gets back.

A promise he never kept.

***

“Hello? Who’s this?” she picked up her phone, blissfully unaware of the news that was about to fall upon her.

“Hey… um… is this Y/N?” an unrecognisable male voice reverberated on the other side

“Yes” she frowned “Who is this?” the girl asked again.

“My name’s Dick Grayson. I’m Jason’s older adoptive brother. We’ve never met but… I know you two were close…”

Wait. Did he just say were close?

“What – what happened…?”

The receiver fell from her hand, tears flooded her face and her heart broke in half.

***

His funeral was probably the worst day of her life, even though she couldn’t remember much more than the see of blackness, plenty of people she knew from Jason’s stories but saw for the first time and some meaningless words of consolations.

***

YEAR ONE

It had been eight months since his death and she was still grieving, unsure if the pain in her chest would ever subside or the tears would ever dry.

In that short time, she had become very close to Jason's brother, Dick, who was the perfect definition of an eldest child and had sort of taken her under his wing (pun intended). After everything with Jason and everything in between, she couldn't and didn't want to stay in Gotham, a place that was a painful reminder of the past.

Y/N took a different route every time she came across the places where they hung out or where they first kissed and where they secretly met at night and considering the fact that Gotham wasn't that big, it was slowly becoming impossible to move. And going to school and seeing couples and happy people was like a shot to the heart, making her a walking fountain almost every school break.

She felt a sudden need to get away from everything and moved to Bludhaven, where she started a new school and where Dick made sure she was safe and (as much as possible, meaning not much at all) happy.

It was October and dia de los muertos was right around the corner, of which her family was kind enough to inform her, inviting the girl to the family celebrations, and mentioning the resulting obligations of the living.

Making her angry at first.

Angry and with the sense of unfairness and stupidity of life. You’re there one second, enjoying the presence of the loved ones, and then, in another second you are just gone and it’s like you never really existed.

What was the point of life, apart from constant suffering and uncertainty of tomorrow?

This whole celebration freaking sucked, and she was not going to celebrate the death, having loved and lost the most important person in her young life!

But…

Once she got herself into that spiral of thinking, Y/N slowly started feeling something more than annoyance at her nation’s cultural habits, overwhelming depression and lack of any motivation to move on. Maybe…

It was the first time she had someone she knew to remember. And to hope that maybe, on this special day, his soul were walking amongst the living and watching her from the other side even if she could not do the same.

Maybe…

And if he was, maybe it was her only chance to somehow communicate with him, tell him all the words she kept hidden in her soul, that never found a way out. Perhaps from the silent beating of her heart he would feel the love that was still there, the longing, the needing and the fact that despite being gone, he wasn’t and would never be forgotten by her.

Her eyes grew wide and she jumped off the bed, gathering all the necessities and beginning her work.

***

“Y/N?” Punctual as always Dick entered the apartment, carrying the box with her favourite takeout. It was their Thursday tradition to have some good food and hang out together and he was not going to be a breaker. But he definitely did not expect to see his friend kneeling on the floor in front of something that looked like a tiny stairs, painted in red, green and yellow ending with an arch. It was decorated with something he recognised as salt, candles, water and marigold flowers. And the whole apartment smelled like lavender for some reason. “Y/N? What are you doing?” he put the food on the table, seriously concerned by her mental state.

“Oh!” she almost jumped at the sound of his voice, turning around to face him. “Hey, Dick. It’s just a little celebration.”

“Of what?” he frowned, not understanding a thing. “What is this?”

“ofrenda” she explained, like it was the most obvious thing in the world, but his confused gaze made her realise that maybe not everyone were familiar with the festivity. “an offering.”

“An offering? Of what? To who? And why?”

Y/N almost rolled her eyes.

“I thought Bruce made you go the private school. Don’t you know anything about dia de los muertos?”

“I thought you were done with your national customs?”

“I was…” she sighed deeply reaching for the picture she was about to hang in her little altar. Jason, smiling, happy at some point back in time, that was never supposed to go back. She took the photo at one of their walks in the park in the autumn, with the sun shining and colourful leaves falling down from the trees. “but things have changed…” Y/N whispered, caressing Jason’s cheek on the photo, her eyes still shining with love and affection, but also tinged with sadness. “I miss him…”

“I know, Y/N. I miss that little prick too.”

“Yeah, he was a prick, wasn’t he? And an asshole, sometimes.” She chuckles as Dick sat on the floor next to her. “I bet if he’s around he’s annoyed at us bad-mouthing him.”

“If he’s around?”

“Yeah, the whole point of this day is that the souls come back to earth to visit us.”

“so it’s basically something like Halloween.”

“ more or less so. But cut the haunting part.” She smiled a little “We can’t see the deceased but we can feel them…”

“do you?”

“do I what?” Y/N frowned at his question. “Do I feel him?”

“Yeah. Sorry if it’s too soon or too bold thing to say, Y/N…”

“It’s not. It’s okay. I can’t exactly feel him, but it doesn’t mean he’s not here. We both agreed he was a prick sometimes, maybe he’s just hiding from me. Just to tease me. But that won’t stop me from calling upon him even from beyond the grave.”

She stood up and put the picture at the top stairs.

“Hey Todd, if you’re somewhere there, I’m not gonna go easy on you. See you next year, you little asshole.”

YEAR TWO

“Hey, Y/N, I dropped by decorating store and bought some things for your ofrenda this year, wanna take a look at them?”

YEAR THREE

You know, Dick, I’m not sure if Jason would appreciate us using the cape here….

“Your limiting my imagination….”

“I don’t care. I’m in charge. Remove it, now”

YEAR FOUR

Did you make the ofrenda without me, Grayson!?

YEAR FIVE

No way in hell she was going to let Dick take charge this year. For the past four of them he was growing more and more fond of the day of the dead, starting from assisting and doing shopping ending on going behind her back in finalising his own crazy concept. And finally, the tide had changed and Y/N had to put her foot down.

“What do you mean you want me to leave?!” Dick cried out the second she told him what punishment she chose for him “Y/N! Why?! It’s so unfair, I – “

“You hijacked my preparations last year. And two years ago. And to tell the truth, three years ago as well!”

“I didn’t – ok, fine…” he raised his hands in surrender “but you can’t blame me for that! It’s really fu-“ he stopped in the middle of the sentence.

“You wanted to say funny, didn’t you?” Y/N raised an eyebrow and Dick blushed a little. Maybe it was a bit inappropriate and unfortunate word to use.

“NO! No I wanted to say… um…” Dick was desperately searching for more accurate wording, also starting with fu, but obviously the alternatives were even worse.

“See that’s the whole point. You kind of missing the message of the day. Yes, sure, it’s supposed to be fun way to honour the dead and tame death in some way, but still it’s also supposed to be at least a little bit of an opportunity to stop for a second and think about things and people. I really appreciate your positive attitude and it’s not like I’m kicking you out, but...”

“but you do.” Dick smirked and nodded with understanding.

“I just feel like I need to be alone for a while, ok? It’s been five years and at his point I feel like I sometimes need to focus to even remember his face without a photo. It’s all becoming a blur, lost in the joy and amusement. And I don’t want that. I want to remember.”

“Is that why you never gave any boy any chance to –“ he cut out again without really thinking what he was saying.

“Grayson… “ she trailed warningly.

“I’m out! I’m out! Don’t hit me!” he rushed towards the exit. “Just call me when it will be safe to come back, ok?”

“Got it. Now get out!” she chuckled, closing and locking the door behind her friend.

Every little word she said was true.

She wanted to remember.

She had to remember.

It was the only way to fill that little dent in her heart, that Jason left when he died. She couldn’t just let go of him, even though Dick was probably right, and after so many years she should have moved on. But both her heart and her soul refused to do so.

Maybe you only get one chance to meet your soulmate and Y/N was close to sure that Jason has been hers.

”It’s better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all" she whispered the quote to herself while reaching for Jason’s photo she chose for this year’s decoration, turning them over in her hands for a while, looking at the face of a 15 year old she used to know “I wonder what you would look like now. Bet you’d be even more handsome and all the girls would be jealous I got such a catch.” She laughed a little “Hope you don’t hear me now, cause god damn, that would be such an ego booster for you.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself.” The sudden male voice coming from behind her made her jump (almost the mirror situation to the one that occurred five years ago when Dick found her preparing the ofrenda). But this time it was not Dick standing in her apartment.

“What the actual fuck!?” she yelled taking a fighting stance she learned from Grayson, knowing it would not help her at all due to the shaking of her body at the view in front of her.

“Handsome, huh?” Jason Todd in the flesh, absolutely not dead, brushed some unruly hair from his forehead, looking at her with a playful expression

“¡Estas muerto! ¡Eres un fantasma! ¡¿Qué está pasando?! Cómo –?“ as usual when she got nervous she started using Spanish. (you’re dead! You’re a ghost! What’s going on?! How-?)

“Baby…” Jason took a step forward, hesitantly. “Baby…” he opened his arms “I;m not dead, I swear to you. I-“

She cut him off by diving into his embrace, holding him tightly, wanting to make sure that he wasn’t just a friction of her imagination and needing to feel his warmth, the beating of his heart and his breathing.

“You’re really here!” she cried out, tears falling down her cheeks like a waterfall when she nuzzled into his chest. Honestly, she didn’t need any explanation, at least not at this point. She only wanted him close, afraid that if she let go for as much as a second he would disappear again. “Swear to me this is not a dream…” she muttered, against his shirt. “Swear to me.” Her entire body shook from the shock, she felt so small in his arms, but also safe as never before. It was like after five long years she got home again, that this missing part of her heart was found, and immediately jumped into the place reserved solely for him, unrepleacable. She was whole again and that was what count.

“Baby…. Oh, my sweet girl…” Jason wrapped his arms around her, caressing her back and hair, pulling her even closer, wanting to comfort her, to give her all that love and peace she was deprived of for what felt like ages. “I’m really here. I’m here. My baby… I’m back to you.” He whispered, closing his eyes, feeling equally, if not more emotional than her. He’s been through hell but the only though that made him keep on going was her. His angel. His joy. His only source of light in the eternal darkness that seemed to surround and swallow him. His grip on her tightened and he hoped to convey all these unspoken words to her through hugs and caresses and the gentle brushing of his lips against her temples.

“I love you…” she sobbed desperately, blurting out the only thing that was on her mind at the moment. “I missed you and I love you and –“

“I know baby. I love you too. And I promise you, you’ll never have to worry about hanging my picture in your altar ever again. Ever. I’ll crawl back to you every time and not even death can stop me from being with you. ”

And they just stood there, next to something that was supposed be an tribute to not-so-dead Jason Todd, holding and hugging each other tightly, creating the little bubble only for them two and being so very happy cutting out the entire world and reality, lost in daydream that happened to be the upcoming future for two people that have loved, have lost, and luckily, have found a way back to each other.

Talking could wait.

Silence, in the company of the only person that mattered, came first.

#jason todd x reader #red hood x reader #jason todd x y/n #red hood x y/n #jason todd x you #red hood x you #jason todd angst #jason todd fluff #red hood angst #red hood fluff #dick grayson x reader

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theeggoman · 5 months

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Being "Too White" Is A Myth.

Sometimes I worry that I'm just a white person pretending to be Latino (because when you're mixed race you're always thinking that you're not enough) but then I remember how every single person in my foster home including the adults referred to me as a "Wetback" or a "Beaner" or a "Fat Mexican" or an "Alien" instead of simply calling me by my white sounding first name because to white people, you will never be enough. It doesn't matter how much or how little white blood you have, in America if you're mixed with a single drop of anything that isn't white, you're not and will never be white.

I wasn't white when I was being tackled and forced down naked on the floor by the police at 12, I wasn't white when I was put in ESL at 8 even though english is my first language, I wasn't white when Christian religious leaders were explaining how I was cursed with the Mark of Cain to have a "skin of blackness" and being Latino made me inherently evil, I wasn't white when I was being sexually assaulted at 5 because I was "naturally promiscuous" and "born looking older" and "asking for it," I wasn't white when I was tackled by boarder patrol in south Texas and detained over night in a holding facility until my grandparents could come get me out, I wasn't white when my friend's mom took me bra shopping and insisted she had to be in the dressing room while I changed to make sure I didn't steal anything, I wasn't white when the doctor wrote my fucking race on my birth certificate while I was being pushed out of my Mexican mother who had to spend hours dealing with the racist medical staff who refused to let my white father into the delivery room because they didn't believe I was his child.

And now I get on tik tok and see people accusing mixed race children of being "white washed." They say we don't experience racism because we're "white passing." They tell us we're grasping for straws and we're stealing from our own fucking culture. They say we're "spicy white," that our blood is diluted, that we're not real.

Are we not real in the same way that our country did not legally recognize our white parents until the 1960's? Are we not real in the same way that we were legally declared bastards who couldn't inherit our own father's last name, his property, his money, our childhood homes? Not real in the way we weren't permitted to attend our white parent's funerals by their white family members? Not real in the way we weren't issued fucking social security cards? Were we not real when our parents couldn't "really" legally get married? Were we not real when our POC parent was shot dead for daring to fall in love with a white person? Were we not real when were named after our POC grandmothers? Were we not real when our White grandmothers cried at our birth and asked why we had to come out "so dark?"

Am I not real when I light the candles on my Ofrenda on November 1st and 2nd, when I bring fresh carnations and Pan Dulce for my brother because he was too young to have a favorite candy for me to put at his grave? Am I not real when I spend 6 hours slow cooking bone broth for Birria after removing all the seeds from the Guajillo chilis so my white friends don't die? Am I not real when I translate for a single mom who wants to use the library printer? Am I not real when I braid my curls? When I wash the Serepa? When I run from owls?

And am I not real when I jam out to country music? When I go camping with my friends? When I celebrate Christmas before Three Kings Day? Am I not real when I choose to embrace both sides of my culture? When I put my foot down and decide I am not half of anything, I am entirely both?

I don't care if you think I'm too white. Don't put your insecurities on me just because you don't wanna learn Spanish.

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clockworkcheetah · 1 year

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Todd Brotzman/Dirk Gently - 1.3k - Rated T

(rockstar/rockband au)

#dghda #brotzly #todd brotzman #dirk gently #dirk gently's holistic detective agency #dghda fic #my fics #mexican funeral being successful isnt the focus of the fic #but its yknow there

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lusi-raul · 9 months

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You know, it’s probably best that Chayanne didn’t wake up when Missa logged on. Just one stream after being away for so long and he already held a funeral for two dogs lol. Imagine if Chayanne woke up with Tallulah’s admin and asthma ahahah. We would have three 💀 Maybe wait until Phil gives him his armor and few gears to help him have a better and safe time on the server (and prevent another funeral from happening lol)

I can’t wait for the family reunion and Missa realizing he’s also a girl dad now ahahaa. Tallulah finally has a mexican father now to distract her from the fact that her used to be, soon to be mexican stepdad has forgotten about her completely.

Also Bad out here tryna break up some families lol. Phil is a loyal man, stop it bad. Just because your family can’t be complete, you try and break up other’s 😂

#qsmp #qsmp missa #qsmp philza #qsmp eggs #qsmp chayanne #tallulah qsmp #missasinfonia #philza #qsmpblr #qsmp badboyhalo #badboyhalo

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itswellya · 2 months

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Ok so i was talking with my friend and realised something.

we were talking about ships sharing cloths and i was like "yeah! todd gave dirk one of his shirts thats pretty cute" (which it is) but then i thinked about it more and theres more to unpack. First of, todd says that its one of his last "mexican funeral" shirt and i think thats awesome bc of all the shirts he could have given dirk, he chose that one. Even tho its one of the last. Second, todd also says he went to dirk's appartment to get his jacket, which means he could have taken some of dirk's own cloths while being there to give him but no. Finally, we know that todd gives clothing as a "romantic" gesture bc he did the same with farah (i dont ship them but the show does confirm he does that with ppl he likes). Anyway i love that ship and i whish there was a season 3

#dghda #dirk gently #todd brotzman #farah black #brotzly #btw go check out the pride comic #you can just google it to find it #i will go down with this ship

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wenellyb · 11 days

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Eddie Diaz is a white Latino. Did people learn nothing from the Pedro Pascal discourse? And does the fandom *not* remember that episode where the funeral protestor refuses to be tended by Hen and Chim, so he asks Eddie to give him care— fully seeing he’s white— until Eddie says his last name is Diaz and his father’s Mexican, but he can channel his mother’s Swedish heritage for the man’s comfort? White people are not members of the global majority, but they do live and exist outside Western Europe and the U.S. (like Mexico).

It’s so weird how parts of the fandom are making any positive reaction to a m/m relationship in this show (that isn’t their yaoi ‘buddie’ fanfiction) into something about loving to see white men kiss. Y’all would still be getting that with canon buddie! Y’all couldn’t even support Michael and Glenn (calling them “homewreckers”). Y’all constantly ignore Hen and Karen with your complaints of “queerbaiting.” Y’all also called TK & Carlos’ (911 Lone Star) relationship “toxic” because it began with sex and because y’all fanon Carlos as some aggressive control freak. Like… c’mon!

I don’t think anyone who is supportive of Buck’s new relationship is arguing that Tommy is perfect. He’s was a fucking dick to both Hen and Chim when they joined the 118. His “delivery man” comment to Chim was wildly unacceptable. No one has forgotten this. Yet both Hen and Chim are *NOW* good friends with him…? Why? He changed. And the show shows the audience this. They show that he developed a great camaraderie with Hen and Chim. They show how he— unlike Sal and Gerrard— shifted his behavior and worldview to accept, embrace, and enjoy change.

Tommy could have been Sal. He could have been Gerrard. He had a good working relationship with both men and both men encouraged bad behavior in the 118. Yet he didn’t. He stayed on and befriended Hen and Chim (when most of the other guys still refused). Because he chose to learn and change and open himself to people’s differences (which likely also helped him come to terms with his own “differences”).

Tommy’s arc is meant to show how someone can make amends, repair relationships, and become a better person (y’know… learn, grow, and reform himself). The general audience for this show is straight and white. They *need* to see white people changing and learning to be better. They *need* to see queer people coming into themselves. These are important story lines.

Fans like Buck and Tommy together because they like Buck and Tommy together, because they like what this means for them and what might happen going forward. That’s literally it. We’re all just overjoyed by having more queer representation, including Bi representation. That’s it.

But there are a lot of “buddie” shippers in people’s inboxes hating on Buck and Tommy together for no reason other than it stands in the way of their ideal porn fantasies (“buddie”). And they’re being weirdly queerphobic about it, too.

Hi Anon!!!! So much to unpack here. I'll post this and let anyone comment their thoughts because this is an interesting conversation.

I'll start by saying that it never occurred to me that Ryan Guzman was not White, until Bucktommy became more popular and some Buddie shippers said that Bucktommy shippers were preferring the White MM pairing and I was like "Hmm.... both Buddie and Bucktommy are White MM pairings"???? Like it never even occured to me.

I'm not here to debate Ryan Guzman's ethnicity, he knows that better than us, but as you mentionned people seem to forget that there are White latinos.

I should add that Americans will maybe have a different perspective but in Europe, there is racism, and there is also xenophobia both are bad, but not the same.

If I'm talking about someone who is White and Latino being a victim of prejudice, I would never say that they're victim of racism, I would say that he's victim of xenophobia.

Believe it or not there are a lot of Europeans are xenophobic but not racist and vice versa.

With that being said, I agree with the rest of your ask..

I love 911 Lone Star and watched 911 casually but I never got the Buddie shippers, especially the ones who said they shipped Buddie as a form of activism, or because there was a lack of Queer representation (which is true) but Henren are there, TK and Carlos are right there and it's the same franchise.

They never cared about Henren, they even erased them whenever they accused the show of Queerbaiting even thought it has several Queer characters.

I remember when they started complaining that Bucktommy had more fics that Henren after one kiss.... but never said anything about Buddie having over 20 000 fics after 6 years of nothing even thought Henren was canon.

A lot of their takes are rooted in hypocrisy, it's like they're taking all the arguments that have been thrown at them and throwing them back at Bucktommy shippers without even thinking about it.

It's very important to have discussion about fandom racism, because it's a huge issue especially in the biggest fandoms but I do feel like some of them are bringing the issue in bad faith. This discussion is so important but it needs to be had with the Bucktommy fandom AND the Buddie fandom. So far the Buddie shippers only want the Bucktommy shippers to have it.

Why don't they take a look at the mirror first and ask themselves why they never cared about a Black Lesbian couple when one of them was a Main Character. Why don't they ask themselves why a ship with 2 best friends has over 20000 fics and a canon ship that is TK and Carlos only have 7000.

And why do they find the weirdest excuses to hate on Carlos (as you said), who's clearly not White and never give him the same courtesy they give their fave White chatacters.

When Buddie shippers talk about fandom racism, all I can think is: the call is coming from inside the house.

#911 abc #911 spoilers #eddie diaz #anti buddie shippers

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