#(daniels a fake name)

[soydyke]

[brw]

Being a comic John Walker blogger is insane because what do you mean I want the actively worse person and not the slightly less worse person he is in the MCU. What.

[high-in-the-tower]

I think in season 3 Daniel and Lestat should start a podcast

[rumblecrow]

Currently watching RT stream while sketching, im not gonna lie. I want to thank rt specifically for making me constantly learning and sketching during his stream. His stream is very helping for my very 'constantly in the head, spinning boats.' brain. Fallout has been enjoyable to watch, and i have been finding other ( spiff ) to watch more fallout ( spiff fallout 4 and new vegas exploits ) and its been really fun ( any rt and spiff enjoyer out there? )

Little writing with my little sketch as always :

----

Theres been a whisper of a wanderer, stiches around his head and face, a grey strand can be seen around his dark hair, a sign of an old timer. Thought looked younger than most farmers in Mojave. Some says, he has been frozen in time. Escaped from Big Mountain, stich his own brains back by some kind of machinery. Thought as the myth speaks for his scars, not alot pays him mind, he can be found gambling in casinos of Mojave. To meet him playing blackjack is a chance of luck.

Theres been a whisper of a ghoul, thought many might not believe you that he is one when you ask around, as he is simple worried man for alot of people. When you met him in a empty road. He will smile and ask the same thing that he ask everyone else, "Know any Daniel?" He seems to not get more specific about the name, talking with him more shows he doesnt mind the wrong people he find, it is also evidence on how he become a ghoul, he walks a long road without any radiation suit. Thought, if you manage to find the Daniel he asked, he will be waiting with plenty of caps. You can only hope the best for him, to find this 'Daniel' before he goes feral.

[invinciblerodent]

So far the show is doing absolutely nothing to disprove my "Colonel O'Neill is gay, but closeted due to DADT" headcanon

[danandfuckingjonlmao]

dan and phil are like jesus in that they’re dramatic ass fruity men in their 30s always going like “i am making this SACRIFICE for THE PEOPLE” and everyone is like “no one asked you to do this in fact we’d all rather you just did not do this” and they’re like “IT IS TOO LATE NOW YOU HAVE TO LIVE WITH THE CONSEQUENCES THIS IS WHAT YOU WANTED” and we’re like “no no we didn’t want this actually and you made this decision with your whole ass adult brain you truly could have just not done this and we’d all be better off for it but now we all have to suffer because YOU refuse to say no to shit” and i think that’s ridiculous stupid annoying awful beautiful

[storiesaremylife]

The scream i scrumpt when eugene first spoke. I consider myself a Jeremy Shada fan (though technically I've only seen 3 shows with him in them), but Vincent Tong is the reason I even know who he is.

[seawardboundsammy]

so @extreme-neutral made this post about in universe chargestep shippers, i printed out the art in the post, some jokes were made, and then i got a little extra. Please enjoy my day's work

also an extra (note the date in the bottom left)

[movingtothemoon]

is anyone else soooooo suspicious of gawain after this

[liiizzard]

thinking about this time in junior high just for the bit i got several of my friends in on this story that i had a long distance boyfriend in california who was my friends cousin and we’d met at a party it was like a very elaborate story with several people in on it just to convince one random dude and then i was like okay this is really bizarre how did we get this far so i told the dude that this long distance boyfriend had been caught cheating on me so we had broken up. what the fuck was i on ???

[turquoisephoenix]

Thanks to the backstory I've given Canny Tim, I can now have him say "you can run away and change your name" to Sir Daniel whenever Dan complains about his family or the Gallowmere court as both a running gag and as a valid piece of advice that totally worked for him.

[flock-of-cassowaries]

Yeah, I totally heard Jeryd Mencken Andy from Weeds Raglan James saying this.

I may not know the character’s name, but I know he’s that kind of a dork.

"You fear Armand, you should fear the other one."

Broke: "Armand may be older and more powerful but Louis is a loose fucking canon who can not be brought under heel"

Woke: "We know everything about what you and Armand got up to in the 70s and 80s. He's so in love with you. He'd never let Louis hurt you. Yeah, we all ship it here at the Talamasca. We have Fanfiction Fridays- Yeah Real Rashid is the current champion and beat 74 others for the chance to do field work on this. No, I can't give you his AO3 tag you'll have to ask him yourself.

[shinybulbasaur]

Literally just had a moment re: your tags where I was like wtf your name isn't Daniel, this guy's name is Danny smh man doesn't even know his own name. Alas, turns out I am the man who doesn't even know your own name

AKSJDJDKS okay no but I spent so much time trying to decide if it was worth putting the (ish) at the end there cause you're right. my name is specifically danny and not daniel. it's true I really am the fool who doesn't know his own name

[vullcanica]

One day i'll rant about how much fun i have with names despite the absolute grief they give me

[corkinavoid]

DPxDC It's Complicated

We've all seen the 'we have your son' trope done with both Bruce and Batman, but I've been thinking about it, and, hear me out, let's give it more flavor.

Bruce gets a call, and it's the usual 'we have your son, follow out orders or he dies', but the orders are not money. It's 'find us this other kid, and we'll trade your child for him'.

While that is an unusual demand, there's another thing: the child on the picture that the kidnappers sent Bruce looks exactly like Damian, sans the eye color. And he's smiling, but that's irrelevant right now. A clone? A decoy? A fake?

Oracle runs a face recognition and finds out that the kid's name is Daniel Fenton, and the record says he's been dead for two months now, buried in the local cemetery of Amity Park, Illinois. Have the kidnappers gone mad with grief? But, wait, there are several 'missing' reports that have been filed after the boy's death, submitted by Jasmine Fenton — the kid's sister — and Vlad Masters, the town's mayor? What does he have to do with the kid?

Meanwhile, Tim is sitting tied up in some warehouse, surrounded by Vlad and a dozen of his carbon copies. Is this man some kind of a meta with duplicating abilities? Why did he even decide to use such a weird scheme when contacting police, FBI, or hell, even the Justice League, would have been so much more effective?

It's just confusing all around.

But Vlad has good reasons! He really does, he swears!

The thing is, it's all his fault. If he didn't fund the GIW in the first place, none of this would have happened. The agents in white wouldn't have outed Danny for being Phantom and wouldn't have taken him away. Maddie and Jack wouldn't have rejected their still alive, just different, son, and wouldn't have put an empty casket in a grave with Daniel's name.

Police won't be searching for a person when they know they are already dead and buried. Justice League, who stands for all that's good and fair, won't go against a government agency that stands for the very same thing.

Which leaves Vlad to find other solutions. Like stealing a rich kid and making his even richer daddy do all the work.

If only said rich kid would stop talking.

Wait, what do you fucking mean 'that picture looks like my brother'?

[noisilyscreechingsong]

Seeing ghosts in Gotham

He’s walking alone. Despite how dark it is, he’s not particularly nervous, not like the couple of people hovering in an alley.

His shift at Batburger went a little long, not that he’s complaining, he needed the money.

Everything is fine. Splendid. Fantastic. A little quiet, enough to pretend it’s a nice stroll home like it was back in Amity. Of course that all kind of goes up in flames when a dark figure drops into a crouch right in front of him. About two arm lengths away is a guy who straightens to a little taller than Danny himself. From the flickering street light across the street he can spot red, crisscross yellow, and a dark cape.

Red Robin.

Danny shakes his head and turns around.

“Nope.”

A smaller body is already standing behind him, blocking his path. The little guy with a serious face folds his arms across his chest as if challenging Danny to try to get by him.

He’s had enough tussles with Danielle to know better than to test the kid.

Danny rubs at his eyes with a hand, purposefully keeping the other limp at his side. He turns back around.

“Okay. Fine. What? What do you want?”

“You sent in a folder of information to solve the Boothe case,” Red Robin states confidently like there wasn’t any doubt it was Danny who sent it in.

He frowns. It was sent in anonymously. As in they shouldn’t be able to know it was him. Then again they are detectives in their own right even if they dress weird.

“See? This is why no one helps out the police if they’re gonna get grilled for it later on,” he complains sourly.

“That case is connected to another string of crimes we’ve been investigating. I need to know where you got your information.”

Danny glares at him for a second, actually thinking about telling him, then he remembers how quickly these guys throw people into Arkham.

“Do you not get what anonymous means?”

“What is your source?” He asks, completely ignoring Danny’s concerns.

“What are gonna do? Dangle me over the side of a building to get me to talk like you do with the criminals you guys pick up? Go ahead. See where that gets you,” he shrugs indifferently.

“You’re a runaway.”

Danny’s eyes widen in surprise before narrowing into a warning as he turns to look at the pipsqueak that spoke.

“From your poorly made fake ID and the fact you don’t look close to eighteen, you must be a runaway minor. We could bring you in to the proper authorities if you prove to be… uncooperative.”

Danny sneers in annoyance.

“Seriously?” He turns back to Red Robin. Clearly the older of the two and the one leading this investigation. “This is what I get for trying to help? Blackmail?”

“Robin can be a bit… abrasive. I, on the other hand, can appreciate a different approach.”

Suddenly there’s a couple pieces of paper money in between his fingers. Danny couldn’t see how much it was from this far away, but it didn’t really change how he felt about the whole situation.

“Now bribery? Wow, you guys really got the whole good cop, bad cop thing down, don’t cha?”

“Then what do you want?”

“For you to stop wasting your time,” Danny answers with a snap.

Red Robin pauses.

“Our time,” he repeats calmly.

“Yea. Your time. This is a dead end and you should move on.”

“And why are you a dead end?” Presses Robin.

“Because,” Danny emphasizes with a look over his shoulder, “the guy you’re really looking for, my source as you put it, is dead, okay? So you can’t go ask him questions. I sent in everything that was relevant. Find another lead.”

Red Robin’s expression remains blank as he mentally calculates his next move. Danny hopes he takes his advice and let him go home.

“His name?”

Danny folds his arms over his chest, a pathetic attempt to protect himself. He chews on his lip a minute. To tell him or not to tell him. It’s not really ratting the guy out since he’s, you know, dead. Although there is a large chance Danny’s missing something and it’s all going to lead back to him somehow.

“I didn’t kill him.”

“I never said you did,” the vigilante replies calmly, almost nonchalant.

Danny shifts his weight with nerves. He really wasn’t getting out of this without giving them something, huh?

“Greg,” he grinds out like it’s painful.

Silence for a few moments, then-

“As in Gregory Boothe?”

The victim of this whole conversation? Yes.

Danny’s silence is answer enough and the diverted gaze just solidified their suspicions.

“Gregory Boothe’s body turned up a month ago. Presumably he’d been dead for several weeks before that.”

Red lets that damning information hang in the air like Danny didn’t already know.

“So when did he talk to you? Last week?”

Danny jerks at the off handed joke, actually taking a step back and hitching his shoulders up to his ears. He grimaces at his knee jerk response, but can’t take it back. A glance toward the vigilante shows a calculating stunned expression from what he can see ignoring the mask. He looks away again finding a discarded soda can very interesting.

“What is that supposed to mean?” Demands Robin behind him.

Danny tried to resist the urge to curl even more into himself, but knows he failed without even having to look.

“You’re a medium,” Red Robin states. It’s not even a question.

Danny flinches and shoots the guy a scared glare.

“I am not one of those scam artists,” he hisses firmly.

“No,” Red agrees, “you’re not. You didn’t ask for money or attention.”

Danny stares like it’s his first time seeing him. The lack of aggression or accusations was new and a little disarming. He was genuinely confused as to why the guy wasn’t immediately going to denial or throwing him in Arkham.

“Hell of a city to hide in when you can see ghosts,” Red Robin says in a light tone like he was teasing him. The small tug to his lips just proves it.

Danny’s shoulders practically sag at the playful demeanor. A hand reaches up to rub the back of his neck self-consciously.

“Yea, well… no one was gonna look for me here.”

Which was only half the reason he chose Gotham, but it was still truthful.

“So… Greg?”

“Isn’t here right now.” Danny pauses and snorts at himself. “Please leave a message.”

The vigilante does have a sense of humor because he smirks in response to the joke.

“Is there another way to… make contact? Summoning maybe?”

Danny raises an eyebrow incredulously.

“Summoning is rude,” he says like it’s common sense.

Instead he turns to the nearest reliable ghost in the vicinity.

“Hey, Susan, can you go-“

The vigilantes can’t hear how she interrupts him because she was standing there the whole time and knows exactly what he was going to ask.

“Okay, thanks. Meet at mine.”

The ghost woman nods and flies off to go hunt down dear old Greg and Danny turns to Red Robin. He makes a casual move with his head to say ‘follow me’ and continues walking down the sidewalk past the guy and further into the old, decrepit buildings he’s been squatting in.

They already know he’s a runaway, being homeless shouldn’t come as a shock to them. Even with his two jobs, he can’t afford to rent an apartment. No wonder so many people are in poverty or in the slums.

He ducks into his rundown building, ignoring the rats scurrying away, and hops up the rickety stairs, avoiding the ones that were unstable. It was a nightmare figuring out which steps were faulty. Lots of injuries.

At the top he turns to see Red easily copying his movements up the stairs while Robin balances along the railing like a tight rope. When they reach the top at the same time Danny just stares at them for a moment before shaking his head in exasperation. Darn vigilantes. Why did Danny have to get caught up in this mess?

He turns, walking along the floor closest to the wall before getting to what he’s deemed his room.

It used to be an office from what he can tell. A desk pushed against the far wall and a ripped sofa he’s been using as a bed on the other wall. The floors were the most stable in this room which really won out.

Danny goes to the desk where all his papers are scattered over the surface. An organizational pattern only he understands as he shuffles through the pile he pulls from the cubby above the desk. It holds all the same information he sent into the police, just in its raw form with about twice the amount of useless information. Along with it is a few other ‘cases’ that sounds familiar that he just threw together into a pile. Maybe the genius detectives could decipher what he couldn’t.

“Here,” he says, holding out the stack. Red Robin doesn’t hesitate to take it off his hands.

There’s no chair for the desk anymore so he slides some papers out of the way to hop onto the desk to wait.

“No.”

The vigilantes look at him and he shakes his head and looks over to the side.

“No, Abby. I’m not wasting their time.”

Red Robin goes back to flipping through papers. Most of them were old business papers he had found in the office and just written on the back. Some were receipts or pamphlets or some other random scrap of paper he could get his hands on.

“Because yours was an accident. There’s nothing for them to solve.”

Robin watched him cautiously as if waiting for Danny to snap or suddenly turn violent. Instead he leans back on his hands in a vulnerable position which screamed ‘I don’t want to hurt anyone’.

“There is a lot more information here than what was submitted to the police,” Red Robin comments neutrally, purposefully ignoring Danny’s exasperated sigh and one-sided conversation.

Danny shrugs in defense, “Didn’t think all of it was relevant.”

The vigilante doesn’t respond.

Robin drifts closer as Danny gives a withering glare to the corner. He examines the mess of papers surrounding the teen in the low lighting.

“Are these all files of victims?”

Danny glances over them with a knowledgeable eye.

“Most.” He twists to point at the top left corner of the cubbies. “Those are accidents though… well, what sounds like accidents.”

“There should be more.”

Danny looks at the boy with a tilted head and raises brow.

“Not everyone sticks around,” he explains simply.

Then something draws his attention away across the room. Surprisingly his eyes don’t glaze over like someone with mental illness, instead they sharpen to see something they can’t. It resembled Constantine or Thomas.

“Greg, these guys wanna talk to you.”

What proceeds is a very awkward interaction with Danny as a middle man between victim and vigilante. Despite the need for a translator, Red Robin does in fact get a lead from the conversation.

“Thank you for your cooperation.”

Danny nods. “Sure, no problem. Just don’t rat me out to the police and I can help with any other case that pops up with a ghost attached.”

“You know we can help with your living situation,” Red Robin offers with a glance around the room.

“What, and put me in foster care? No thanks, I’ll pass.”

“There are other options,” Robin chimes in with nonchalance that implies he doesn’t actually care.

“You don’t pass for eighteen, but if you let me make you a new ID we could say you’re emancipated.”

Danny frowns.

“I’d have to be sixteen to be eligible for emancipation.”

“You could be sixteen.”

No, he really couldn’t. Maybe if you squint your eyes and tilt your head, but Danny is fourteen with all the baby fat and innocent face that comes with it. His license now is a clear fake to anyone who sees it, but in this city no one’s gonna question it to his face. They just raise a brow, look at him, then shrug it off and roll with the lie.

“What do you want?” He demands. All this good will and wanting to help him can’t be free.

“We want to help,” Red says too easily.

Danny stares for a second, eyes narrowed as he tries to block out the multiple voices around him.

Insurance. He wants Danny to owe him so he can keep coming back for more information.

“I just told you I would help. Why are you still trying to get leverage?” He demands with irritation.

“We want to help-“

“You want me in your back pocket.”

Red Robin doesn’t give that a response, his lips pressing together to make a hard line.

Instead of pushing, he surprisingly takes a step back and heads towards the door, papers still in hand. Danny doesn’t argue.

Robin ducks out first, blending into the shadows without even a glance over his shoulder. Red Robin pauses in the doorway.

“Don’t try to skip town,” he states like an order. Like if Danny did in fact try, he would be found and brought back.

It didn’t even cross Danny’s mind.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” he says tiredly, too fed up with the day to defend himself.

Red Robin watches him for a moment before nodding and disappearing out the room.

Danny slumps with a groan, finally sliding off the desk to shuffle to the couch, body flopping face first into the worn cushions.

It’s silent to everyone else but Danny.

“I know.”

…

“I know, Jack, but I don’t trust them. Even if he is your son.”

Danny never noticed the bug planted by Robin on the underside of the desk.