Alright I Promised To Share Info About The Upcoming Iatse Strike, But I’m Tired So Here Is Someone

Jack was an inventor. A hunter. A walking tank of a man who could intimate anyone he wanted to if he weren't such a joyful man.

Daniel was not.

He was short, thin, calm and composed where his father was the sun. He was not a hunter, nor an inventor.

Talia was an assassin. A living, walking weapon. Impossible to notice footsteps. The eyes of a predator and all the grace of one moving in for the kill.

Daniel was not.

He was a failed heir. A less refined weapon than his mother. Footsteps heavy and loud compared to his mother. The eyes of a cold, dead fish with no life and nothing left to give.

He did not know it at the time but.

Daniel was a doctor. Someone that saved people. Mended broken bodies. Always carrying something to help. Nothing but medical knowledge rolling around in his head and the desire to save. Life saver.

Damian was the successful heir. Son of Bruce Wayne. Quiet footsteps. The eyes of a predator. Body trained to perfection. A master of the sword. Life taker.

A success, where he failed.

A battle of heirs. An outcome already decided, already known, already foreseen.

There should've only been one.

And indeed, there was none but one.

In spite of his loss, his failure, he was not exterminated as he thought he should have been. He was instead placed in the pits, the water mending his broken body not for the first time, then taken out, and found himself alongside his mother.

That was the last time he saw of her, and his brother. Only a scar where his brother would have killed him, refusing to be healed, left behind in remembrance.

He then found himself with a family. His father's family. Daniel knew of his father, a genius inventor who could build a great many things from scraps of metal, a gene that, while respected, was not what the League wanted.

It was a fling, and nothing more.

He gained a new mother and a sister. Inserted into a family who welcome him with open arms, yet already had their own dynamics that they practiced from time to time, and he always found himself at a loss when they try to fit him in them in some way.

Then, when he turned ten years of age, a year without seeing hide nor hair of his mother and brother. Came a man, Vlad Masters.

Vlad Masters was confident, self-assured. Well trained. Having money to spend in spades and spades yet making all that and more. The eyes of someone who thought themselves better than most, eyes of a snake, a spider, slowly waiting for something to take the bait.

Despite all of this, a certain sense of loneliness seemed to hang around him like an ever-present cloud. Something Danny only realized was there, when he caught the man broken down.

Daniel did not know how to feel of Vlad Masters.

Vlad Masters did not like his father, even though he seemed to treat his mother like an old friend, the same way his father treated him. He seemed both fond and somewhat off put by his sister, Jasmine Fenton.

Daniel finds himself respecting and sympathizing with that sentiment.

Jasmine Fenton was nice. Social. Unaware of her unconscious ability to think herself superior. Thinks she is often right. Does not like to be wrong. Likes to think things through.

Likes to peer inside of someone's head.

Daniel does not like that. Vlad does not like it either.

But she is nice, good intentioned, his sister. So he will overlook it. She is also Vlad's goddaughter, and so he too, will overlook that trait of hers.

Daniel was not interested in a great many things. He was not fond of swordsmanship, even though he was ruthlessly trained in it. He was not fond of building like his father, not as fond as running calculations to make inventions work like his mother, was not fond of, and while a useful ability, peering into the heads of others.

He was, however, found of what he found in Vlad Masters' basement. Something he believes was to be kept secret, yet found anyway.

He was unsure of how much time he spent occupied with what he found, time spent with eyes that only blinked when they were forced to because of dryness.

Time that was cut, when the owner of said basement, found him.

Curiously enough, he did not throw him out, and Danny did not notice him when exactly the man got there, nor how long he was there, until he made himself known.

He offered to teach Daniel of the knowledge he so sought, and Daniel only took a few seconds to accept the hand outstretched to him.

Four years. Four years did Daniel study under Vlad Masters, growing his understanding of the human body, watching how exactly to hold a scalpel properly, how to use certain equipment, what exactly to do that would let the human body heal without changing anything too much.

How to help, how to save lives. What to use to cut away pain, and help those in need.

A way to repent for every inch of blood on his small hands, was what Daniel saw.

Vlad Masters did not often make mistakes. His every move was far too calculated for such a thing. But he does, in rare cases, make mistakes.

One of them, was how Daniel found out about his unique biology. Vlad Masters was something called a halfa, a mix between the undead and living, a ghost and human.

It reminded him, not for the first time since he came to live in Amity Park, just how much ectoplasm reminded him of Lazarus Water. Yet he could tell, knew they were different due to various factors.

He wondered if he should try and write to his mother about this, more than once.

He did not.

After his 14th birthday, Vlad said that there was not much more he could teach him. Daniel soaked up all the knowledge given to him like a sponge, and retained all of it easily.

As a jest, he was told that he was allowed to pick a new name because of this.

He thought it was serious.

So he chose Danny. A name that came from one the rare, soft moments between him and his elder brother. Where he could not yet pronounce his name properly, before he underwent correction, a time where both of them were all smiles and no blood on their hands.

Danny.

The rift between Vlad Masters and Jack Fenton somehow, without his notice, closed. They were acting as if they were the best of friends, more so his father than Vlad Masters, and they became a functioning family with their odd little quirks.

When he turned 15, he went to Gotham. He was living with his sister while she attended college there, he did not want to go to school, so he did not.

It took many a time of convincing for them to finally allow it.

Danny did not know Gotham. He knew of it. He knew this to be the home of his brother's father, Bruce Wayne, that it was the city with the most crime, the city home to a notorious number of villains.

The city under watch and protected by Batman.

But not much more than that. He did not care for his brother's father, for whatever legacy he had fell only to his brother to fulfil. He hoped his brother achieved what he wished for.

Back then, and still today.

He wandered the streets of Gotham when Jazz was occupied. Familiarizing himself with the environment and finding out what was where and where is that.

Not for the first time, he found injured, and not for the first time, he treated them free of charge.

He had more than enough money to resupply himself, thanks to his mentor filling his account with money every month.

He gained a bit of a reputation, that child with a far too large lab coat. Dead fisheyes, a wandering doctor who treats anyone injured he came across. Though his reputation was small, having recently just came to Gotham.

One day, curiously enough, he found something new in his endless days of wandering.

A boy dead on his feet, covered in dirt, a ruined suit and looking like he just pulled himself out of a grave crossing the street, unaware of the car speeding towards him.

He was hit, and somehow landed in front of Danny.

He crunched down on his lollipop, throwing the stick through the air and into a nearby trashcan without looking while opening another and placing it in his mouth.

He took the boy home in what a normal person would essentially call a kidnapping,

He did not know how the boy, older than him, survived the trip back to his home. But he wasn't going to complain about it. He entered a room, one filled with medical equipment, the best that could be offered, and placed his mystery guest one of many beds.

He treated him as best as he could, then left to go get something to eat.

He still stuck to his wandering, but he regularly checked in on his guest. A week later, and the boy was awake, sitting up in his bed when Danny opened the door to check on him.

He introduced himself as Jason Todd.

Then he disappeared for some time, and the bed that held him for a week was empty.

Sometime later, he heard of Red Hood.

He did not know what to think of the gunslinger in red, and what his stake in the politics of Gotham would be. He didn't exactly care for the politics, so he stayed away from it.

He did not know why the Red Hood held good will towards him, considering they have not met before. But he was claimed to be under his 'protection' for reasons unknown.

The reason, he found out, after carrying the man to his home (it was a bit of struggle, but Danny was the son of Jack Fenton, and took after him in strength as well, although to a lesser degree), placed him in one of many beds, and found out his identity.

Red Hood was Jason Todd, a patient he had not seen for some time now turned lord of crime.

It was a bit surprising, but not something that mattered.

Perhaps it should have, when he found himself sitting across from the protectors of the night who decided to invite themselves into the house alongside his sister with a Red Hood that looked like he was none too pleased by this situation.

And a brother he had not seen in many a year.

Do you realize that Camp Half-blood is most probably a place full of juvenile delinquents? Like nearly all of them have committed a crime or two? If no, you should.

harry raised by lily (and petunia...and kinda snape) snippet, first year, “cokeworth coven” (+wbwl?) fanfiction

Severus was a very terrible driver, so Harry was quite grateful when his aunt pushed him into the passenger seat and took the wheel herself. His mother sat in the back of the old sedan with him, quite uninterested in Severus’s foul-mouthed complaints up front, and instead looked encouragingly to her son.

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Imagine dannys rouges fighting him thinking he is like one of the older ghosts because they can't detect his ghost core at all and thats a old ghost thing

But it's because dannys core isn't fully funded until one day he gets caught by his parents and they go vivisection on him

He flees and one of the rogues find him and are like "oh god he's just a baby, a hurt baby, oh my god I have been throwing down with a baby.... I have beaten by a baby"

And they all fly around him anxiously and teaching him stuff because suddenly he's so weak! What happened!

Then the parents get him again but worse and he flees the universe

It only takes them around two weeks to find them and he is in the middle of being held up by the joker as hostage when "BOOM" the joker gets body slammed by the skulker

Now we got skrunkly Danny with his league of caretakers against the world

Very much inspired by that Valentine Pin-Up Alastor merch where the only significant change is him having his bow-tie unclipped.

Anyway, happy valentine day sike, it's Aro week and we are begrudgingly going on dates to help our friends with their heist.

DP x DC

Okay, so I’ve read a lot of these (like, a lot) and I’ve seen a lot of “Danny’s friends and family die and the bats adopt him” but I haven’t really seen any where Sam, Tucker, and Jazz come back as ghosts, not even an off handed conversation explaining the possibility.

So what do I want? I want a fic that starts the same way all the others do, but when it gets to the “bats figure out the ghost stuff” I want Danny to confide in them about how confused he is because really:

Should he even be mourning if they come back as ghosts? Like in that case, it’s more like they went anyway for a while and eventually came back, a little changed, but essentially that’s what happens. But just because they have a higher chance at becoming ghosts doesn’t mean that they will.

And even if they do come back, time is wonky in the infinite realms, so they could end up in any time, and it takes a while to form a ghost, so that could be 20 years from when they died. Also, we don’t really know that much about where ghosts even form and the infinite realms are not named metaphorically, so that’s another problem.

What I’m saying is, we have so much lore in this fandom and it really makes me sad that people use dead as an end-all be-all when the whole thing is literally about the afterlife. Dive into the lore, explore how emotionally confusing that would be to a boy who lost everything. Explore how he would feel, wondering if he could even grieve, if he should grieve, if he didn’t and waited and they never came back, like there are so many angst and fluff possibilities.

I was on the bus thinking about Harry Potter tonight and I remembered the part where the Dementors all show up at the Quidditch game, and I remembered how they were all looking up at Harry, and I wondered why they would all be staring at him, and then I realized that it’s because he has two souls in him.

You've read my mind. I had a completely different post in the works about the Malfoy-Riddle-Leach connection.

It's really fascinating how these 3 characters connect in canon and in fanon.

Because they represent the three main "blood statuses" even if Riddle's is assumed to be muggleborn.

Abraxas Malfoy was able to efficiently get rid if Leach with little effort and loss of power on his side. Going by the official site, people knew he was involved but they couldn't do a damn thing to prove it.

If purebloods were capable of this then what the hell were the Death Eaters in the ministry doing?!

Voldemort took away their security in power, because by the time of his first downfall purebloods were being arrested without trial, or solid evidence, in droves. If Abraxas Malfoy had done what he did to Leach during the Voldemort era he would not have gotten the same leniency he flourished in post-Grindelwald.

TL;DR

Pre-Voldemort

Ministry of Magic: We know it was you.

Purebloods: Oh it was absolutely me.

Post-Voldemort

Purebloods: Bloodpurity? Don't know her.

Ministry of Magic: jail

Purebloods: well if isn't the consequences of my own actions.

Its supremely unfair how under utilized Nobby Leach is in fanfic.

He's a blank slate! The 1st Muggleborn British Minister of Magic but we know very little about him personally or even the circumstances of his election.

Voldemort rose to power in the late 60s-early 70s. Leach was minister sometime between 1962-68. And Leach was supposedly threatened from returning to his position or possibly assassinated.

Do you think poor, working-class, assumed Mudblood of Slytherin Tom Riddle didn't see these shady dealings and go "Okay so taking the legal route to power won't work."

If having power was Tom's only goal then he absolutely would've taken a quicker route to it. But instead Nobby Leach's failure just proved the system was too broken to fix from the inside.

(Quick disclaimer, I think Riddle only used the blood-purity thing to get an in with the purebloods who were running the country. There are better posts that expand on this idea in detail so I'm not going to get into it too much here. Okay? Okay.)

We know so little about Leach that he could conceivably have gone to Hogwarts at the same time as Tom Riddle. Did they know eachother? That's up to you, but if they went to school together then they definitely knew OF eachother.

So here you have Nobby Leach who hit the ground running after graduation, who clawed his way to being the FIRST muggleborn Minister of Magic in a government made up of bloodpurists, and then he just...resigned? Fuck that. That doesn't fit at all.

And anyone with half a brain would've picked up on that. Tom Riddle could not have missed how uncharacteristic this would be if he knew Leach, or heck just noticed the sheer will and patience it takes to become THE Muggleborn Minister of Magic.

On that note, there might've been some sort of Muggleborn movement happening in the background following Grindelwald's defeat. After all it takes more than one person to achieve this kind of victory.

So Tom Riddle watches (or is apart of 👀) a fast-paced, determined movement place the FIRST Muggleborn Minister of Magic and then watches as this victory silently tumbles down into forgotten history.

Meanwhile Tom builds the Death Eaters who also work outside the system via raids and murder despite the fact that they all work inside of it already. Theres already lots to unpack with THAT decision but moving on... Once the Ministry finally gets its shit together and arrests the (clearly labeled with Dark Marks) perpetrators, throwing them in wizard prison eventually reaching the point where they would be thrown in without a trial (Sirius Black), the Pureblood lawmakers all of a sudden realize "oh fuck, this is getting real."

And now what do they have to do to avoid suspicion in this very Red Scare-esque era of spying and tattling on eachother (it worked for Karkaroff) to avoid wizard prison? Play nice with the Muggleborns.

TL;DR

Nobby Leach: went the legitimate route to making change by working WITHIN the system. He rose fast and fell silently.

Tom Riddle: went the shady route to power by working OUTSIDE the system, painstakingly working for decades to build a support base, and falling in notoriety.

There needs to be more fics with them as foils to eachother. And if it has to be me, I warn you it will take YEARS to finish.

Oh no there’s two of them

You know I bet Vader could easily fix the whole Ever given Suez Canal problem. Smh at us weaklings. (This is a joke, I wasn’t sure it came across as funny enough)

He could, but whether or not he would depends on if Luke makes him.