My cousins, every single day
Alfred: Master Jason... why did you draw a pentagram on the floor?
Jason: Your text told me to satanize the house before you returned
Alfred:
Alfred: I wrote sanitize, Master Jason.
This is the Dumbledore we should've had and we missed:
A Dumbledore that should've been an example and a father figure for the students.
A Dumbledore that fights for the injustice of the Wizarding World. The discrimination against muggleborns. Someone who never lets kids fight a war that isn't up to them. But lets them fight for their rights and their opinions.
Someone that understands kids and teens and their needs according to their age. Someone that has fun when he needs to have fun. And also someone who is an authority and scolds when he needs to scold.
Imagine a Dumbledore that is friends with James Potter and encourages him to change and grow up from his immature self. To realize what it is important in life. To try to gain Lily's love by showing her his true self. Not by showing up.
Imagine Dumbledore being a parent figure for Sirius. Letting him know there is nothing wrong with him if he is different from his family. Being a gay guru for him and helping him realize his feelings for Remus. But making sure he doesn't lose himself for love just like he did for Grindelwald.
And imagine him helping queer youth, because he is queer himself.
Imagine a Dumbledore giving Remus confidence. Letting him know that he is not a monster and he deserves happiness and love. Asking him how he is every month. Inviting him for tea and distracting him around the full moon. And with his power, helping him destroy the prejudices people have of werewolves and doing the impossible to change the law against them.
Imagine a Dumbledore making Peter be more sure of himself. Encouraging him to study, letting him know that he is not stupid, that he just needs a bit more effort to learn. Making sure he is not sad about feeling alone or being scared about the war. Because he is the most vulnerable of the Marauders. Making sure Peter knows his friends love him no matter what.
Imagine a Dumbledore that helps kids that are lost, or are forced to take the wrong side. Not by punishing them but by helping them realize their beliefs are wrong or they are more than their pureblood families. Like Regulus, or Barty.
Imagine a Dumbledore that doesn't discriminates muggleborns. In fact, he gives them more importance and love, to demonstrate that they deserve attention as well. And a Dumbledore that gets angry and wild when an injustice occurs.
Imagine a Dumbledore that is Minnie's best friend. Someone that not only cares for her and the rest of the teachers as staff. But as human beings. Someone that understands their personal problems. Imagine Dumbledore helping Minnie realize she deserves a happy ending as well, no matter how much she had suffered. And how much she had lost. Perhaps helping her encounter her past loves again.
Just imagine Dumbledore going against the Magic Government and annoying parents who want to keep the school a conservative elite pureblood place. But tries to transform it into a respectful school for anyone no matter their blood status or skin color or religion or sexual orientation.
Dumbledore should've been a Godfather that is always for students, teachers and staff no matter what. That helps when he is needed. Someone in who people should trust. Students should've loved him as a father. And Dumbledore should've loved the students as his own kids.
Dumbledore shouldn't have been someone that manipulates people. Not someone that gives a false image of himself. Not a selfish asshole that only thought about winning a war. Not someone that used everyone as a pawn in a larger game.
I think Dumbledore had the potential to be a king, a saviour, a role model, a real hero. But he wasn't. He just tricked everyone but he was a coward.
Magic candles on Christmas containers
El principito —Antoine de Saint Exupéry https://www.instagram.com/p/CYpUu1pL8gv/?utm_medium=tumblr
I only saw you once, and I was already dreaming of you.
You only spoke to me once and I was already imagining your hand against mine.
You only greeted me once and in my mind wandered all the topics we could talk about.
And the more you talked to me the more I felt my mind wander through those scenarios.
And then anxiety would strike.
What if you only talked to me out of guilt?
What if you only said hello to me because you needed something in the end?
What if this is all just your way of getting something out of me?
Your way of manipulating me until I'm at your feet and do everything you tell me to do.
Your way of proving that I'll always let you walk all over me.
And then your message comes through and everything seems to cease to exist.
The anxiety, the imaginary scenarios.
Am I falling in love with you or with the illusion?
The one I like because it makes me feel good.
It makes me feel that I'm finally worth something.
That I'm not just one more in the system.
And then you ask me to help you with something.
You ask me to do homework together and I don't refuse because finally having someone else's company makes me feel good.
But the same thought comes back to my mind.
I imagine again the pain of rejection.
What will my life be like once you stop talking to me?
And if you hear those rumors from people, what will you think of me?
Will you stop talking to me or pretend you never heard them?
Or will you accept them and tell me to my face what a shitty person I am? And you'll leave and I'll be the same as in the beginning, alone.
Cold in my professions and in my friendships.
Modifying a little bit Hamilton's famous line.
And like him, pretending to give minimal importance to personal relationships.
Trying to keep myself free of any particular attachment.
And keep my happiness independent of the caprices of others.
If you ever leave I'll again be wondering when a person will come along who will truly stay with me.
I will be called manipulative at the end of this text
But believe me that midnight is when I become the most sincere.
Because my mind is so weak that it doesn't rest.
And I think about it so much that I don't sleep peacefully.
And I hope that after all this if you ever find out who wrote this, and that it was meant for you, don't leave.
Stay and assure me that you will never leave.
Just make me believe for a few seconds that I am no longer alone.
And let me see you one more time
Midnight Thoughts
Prologue
Log #59
My name is Jane Pasley Todd, also known as the vigilante Eclipse. I have worn this mantle since I returned from the dead (a few years ago now) and have never doubted this identity until now.
My team has begun to act in strange ways. Although my position as leader was democratically elected, many have begun to ignore my orders even if it means endangering the lives of others. They have started to become even more stubborn than they already were in the beginning, I am glad they are sticking to their ideals, but not when it could wipe them all out.
Angie, my cousin, says I should let someone else take over, as she has begun to notice signs of anxiety and lack of control over my shadow, but I don't trust the team to adapt quickly to the new leadership, especially when we are in such critical times.
My brother doubts that Angie's intentions are the right ones. Although to be honest, he has never trusted her, as has Assana. But he says that as long as Richard has his eye on her, he won't say anything to the rest. Apparently, he's the only one who still keeps his trust in me.
Arthur starts to pull away from me and try to fight over any measly thing that happens. He urges violence at the worst times. The same thing starts to happen with Andrea and Henry, although from the latter I understand it, his powers are enhanced by anger. But from her I would never have imagined it, of course, her character has changed over time, copying some of the reactions of the rest of our companions as soon as she left the orphanage and felt much safer with us.
The reconnaissance mission in Lexcorp, Metropolis, went better than expected. We managed to gather even more information than expected. Unfortunately, the second part had to be postponed at the suggestion of Casper and Oswald. Between the three of us, we started thinking about possible rescue team members.
Shade has not notified me if she has any plans to settle permanently in Gotham. This simply means that even she doesn't know if there's anything behind this whole mess.
End of Log for Pentagon.
Sooooo I drew some quick fanart for Zoeleo’s amazing fic: The Many Deaths of Jason Todd, which is one of my favorites fanfics ever. It makes me laugh just as much as it makes me cry, it’s ongoing and great and I screech everytime i see it’s been updated, 10/10 check it out
Chapter 13: Photographs & Warnings
"Hey Asset, I need to talk to you. Do you think you have time? We could talk during the patrol. Well, I'll leave you to it, you must be very busy," I sent the voicemail. Assana never turned off her phone and I found it odd that she didn't answer.
I was sitting on the stairs of the building, near our apartment while Jason was busy trying to open the door with one hand. We arrived at the apartment with a lot of complications, as the Batcow came into the living room and we couldn't get her out. After that, we had to listen to Bruce's warnings not to go near the Joker, Scarecrow, or the fast-food joints without him.
"Jane," Jason called to me, standing in front of me, grabbing my shoulders and squatting down once we entered the apartment and threw our stuff on the floor, "Promise me you won't go looking for the clown."
"But..." I started to say, but my father interrupted me.
"But nothing." Jason interrupted me, shaking me by the shoulders a little bit." Of course, he does. "And if I knew you couldn't defend yourself against that clown, I'd even forbid you to go on patrol."
"But you won't, will you?" I asked, afraid of what he might answer. If he banned me from going out with my buddies, our plan to stop Slade would go down the drain.
"Not at the moment," he replied. I breathed a little more relieved, "But if the situation gets worse, rest assured that even your brother won't go out after 7 p.m.," he said, releasing me and standing up to go to his room and leave his small suitcase there.
I stood in the doorway analyzing my options. The Joker was known for acting fast. And it was more than obvious that the situation would escalate quickly. I had little time to come up with a good plan with my team and attack Deathstroke.
Jason came out of his room a few minutes later, wearing different clothes and with unkempt hair.
"I know you have to go out, go drop your stuff off in your room, I'll fix you something to eat, and then you can go," said my father, entering the small kitchen of the apartment.
"I'll give James his keys," I said, walking past him, so he could search for them while I was getting ready.
I headed to my room, expecting to find the curtains closed and my things tidy, just as I left them the last time I was there. I opened the door and the sunlight hit me right in the face, someone had been in my room.
And that was just the first sign. On my desk, most of my notebooks were unpacked. My clothes were out of the closet and many of my books were on the floor. As if they had been looking for something.
I set my backpack on the side of the bed and started to pick things up off the floor, so it didn't look so messy. I left the curtains open but decided to close the window.
My room was much smaller than the one I had at Wayne Manor. There was only a single bed, a night table, a closet, my desk, and a chair where I threw my "not clean nor dirty" clothes, the ones I only used once and I was too lazy to put them away. On one of the walls, there were several shelves where I put framed photos, many of which were taken by Tim, and one or another book that Asset lent me.
In one of those pictures were my brother and me, when I was 10 years old. Another one was a family portrait of the Wayne family: Bruce, Dick, Jason, Tim, Damian, Olive, Alfred, my brother, and me. It was a nice picture that I liked to keep, but that I had thought about throwing away on more than one occasion.
As I was going through the photos I realized that one was missing. It was a photo that I had taken myself, with some of the friends I had made during the orphanage: Jared, Henry, Arthur, Samir, Andrea. Basically everyone I considered moderately close to me. Many of them, my biggest mistakes.
With that on my mind, I left my room and headed to the small kitchen, where Jason was preparing some sandwiches. He wasn't too bad in the kitchen.
"Eat something, then I'll let you go freely," he said, extending a plate to me. I didn't want to tell him that someone entered the house, it would worry him more, and that was the last thing I wanted.
I ate as much as I could, worry sometimes did strange things to me. I was so deep in my thoughts that I didn't notice the moment when someone knocked on the door and my father got up to open it.
"... We've just arrived, Mrs. Anne," I heard. I got up to go back to my room and put on my vigilante suit.
I opened the window and jumped out, but not before leaving a note for my legal guardian, which he never did. The apartment was in a not-so-tall building, it had only 5 floors, and our home was on the second to last floor.
The streets of Gotham were a maze if you didn't know them. Fortunately, GPS was a tool Batman had in abundance in his little cave. And my target wasn't that far from home either.
When I got to the building, I rode the elevator to the top floor, watching as Jim and Mike Vos conversed quietly in the corner near the computer.
"... I'm pretty sure they're going to change Slade's mission to the Joker's," Mike said before Jim signaled for me to turn around and look at him.
"Hey, Jane. We were just talking about our plans...for the team...yeah," stammered the jet-haired boy. While the other was trying to get away from his partner by walking sideways.
"Aha, I'll go check some things on the computer before the others arrive," I told them. Later I would talk to Mike about how to be a little more discreet.
Chapter 11: Father & Daughter
They escaped. They escaped just as we discovered Slade's location. This couldn't be just a coincidence. But the mere thought of the three of them working together was impossible.
"I'm going to sleep," I said, taking Assana's hand off my shoulder. I headed for the stairs towards the mansion. At one point I had to hold on to the stair railing. I felt dizzy and I didn't know if it was because I was sleepy or because the prescription of my glasses was no longer enough. Sleep was the only thing I wanted to do after so many emotions for one day.
"Jane, wait," I heard Assana shout.
"Don't worry, I'll go with her." I managed to hear Olive say before I closed the door leading to the Batcave. She was one of the first to find out about the escapes before we did.
With a horrible headache from the problems I was having with my team, the fight with Tim, and the recent information of two escapes from Arkham, all I could think about was taking a nap until at least 4:00 p.m. or if that didn't help, killing myself.
"Jane, wait for me," Olive shouted, trying to reach me so she could talk to me properly.
"Jane Pasley Todd." I heard someone calling my name. But I started running to my room. When I got there I locked the door and threw myself on the bed, still without taking off my suit, to try to fall asleep. "Daughter, open up. I want to talk to you, please," said my father, knocking on the door.
"I want to sleep," I answered, trying not to sound so curt. I took off my visor and threw it towards the closet door. I wrapped the quilt around me, curling up in my bed as I listened to my father try to open the door. The sound of the knob being jiggled frantically only made my headache increase.
"I warn you, I do know how to pick locks," Jason warned, leaving the knob alone for a while. I closed my eyes, trying to sleep. Five minutes later I heard the door open and he entered my room without turning on the light.
Jason Todd was never a model son. He was always rebellious, and he was always surrounded by trouble. When he came back to life all he could think about was his revenge on the person who was responsible for separating him from the only person he had ever considered close to him.
When he almost died in the attack on the orphanage when he was 12 years old, Jason decided to follow his father's example and adopt the one who would become his protégé and companion in the future. But that didn't mean he would mature overnight.
When he almost died in the attack on the orphanage when he was 12 years old, Jason decided to follow his father's example and adopt what would become his future protégé and companion. But that didn't mean he would mature overnight.
Back then he didn't know much about raising a rebellious teenager, yet he tried. But as the years went by, he would start acting like it wasn't his responsibility, leaving me in charge of Bruce or even running away in the middle of the night never to return.
There came a point when I stopped reproaching him, anyway, it wouldn't be the only time a father figure would leave me abandoned to my fate.
"Honey." He called me, a little calmer than before, but I was already too sleepy to answer, "Well, you probably don't want to talk," he said, as he sat on the bed and tried to take off my quilt, "so I'll sleep with you," I faced him, pouting. "Get up, I don't want to be cold. I'm going to pull the sheet off."
"Do you really want to be the exemplary father now," I asked. All he did was give me a little smile.
I reluctantly got up and pulled out a blanket I had stashed in my closet. I went to the bathroom and took off my suit, then put on my sleep pants and the sweatshirt I always sleep in. I went back to bed and saw how Jason was already settled on one side of the bed, writing something on his cell phone.
-Come on, it's almost 6 a.m.," he said, patting my side of the bed. And he was right, the first rays of sunlight were already visible from the window.
I lay down next to him and we cuddled so we could sleep. I was sure I would wake up at least until 3 o'clock in the afternoon, with a horrible headache.
And although I thought sleep would help me calm my nerves a little that night, I knew it wouldn't happen. Even my dreams tortured me, bringing my worst fears to light.
Since I received my metagene and basically since I came back to life, I have had many nightmares, some worse than others. I would dream of my biological father, other times I would dream of my mother's death, or even the loss of my new family. I would also dream about the time I was kidnapped to perform the genetic experiments that gave me my metagene. My mind would trick me, giving me the worst thoughts that, at times, even when I was awake, could not stop torturing me. I would wake up in the middle of the night and after that, I could not go back to sleep.
"Don't worry, if you have a nightmare, I'll be here." I managed to hear. Yes, obviously he would be there, but it wouldn't make a difference. It wasn't as if his mere presence would magically eliminate bad dreams.
"You definitely decided to start being the exemplary father," I replied. To finally fall into the arms of Morpheus.
Duke/Signal: good morning
Cass/Black Bat: good morning
Damian/Robin: good morning
Olive/Pandora: you all sound like robots, why don't you spice it up a bit
Jane/Eclipse: morning motherfukers-
Spirits?
I'm beginning with witchcraft and one thing that I've been noticing are the entities.
I remember that back in 2012, right after my grandmother passed away, the whole energy in my house was sad, my mum was depressed and my dad started going to another city for long periods of time.
I remember once I was doing my homework on the dinning room, it was already dark outside, and neither my mom nor I had turned on the lights of the rooms in the first floor. So the only lights on were in the dinning room and in the living room, were my mom was watching TV.
I went to my room to get my charger and a book I left there. As the lights were off, the moon light was perfectly reflected on my mom's room.
I checked it and for a few seconds I saw my grandma, sitting in a corner, brushing her hair, smiling to me in the same sweet way as always.I tried to see her again, but there was only a shadow left. I almost cryed and I couldn't end my homework that night.
I forgot that expirience. Now that I remember it, I think I might cry. Maybe it was just my imagination, or she was really there, checking for her daughter.
Sorry for the grammar mistakes, I'm not a native English teacher
she/they 20 years. This blog is a mess of a lot of things. Roch's personal Blog
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