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deadsetobsessions · 4 months

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Alley Drunk! Danny AU- Part 1

[Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4]

To not turn into a giant raging asshole hell bent on murdering people and destroying the world after everyone he loved died, Danny had ran from Amity with his chosen vice.

A bottle. That’s right. Even after Jazz’s talks about alcoholism as a poor coping mechanism as a form of self harm, he still chose alcohol. Or maybe that’s why he picked it, because it reminded him of her, right before the booze took the sting of grief off of her memory. He was never really all that good at listening to Jazz.

And now she’s gone, so it’s moot point. Danny really hated Nasty Burger.

Danny made it all the way to Gotham, bottle constantly glued to his hand. It’s better than Vlad’s creep-o-self looming over him all of the time. He bummed out on the streets, fitting into crime alley like a native. Danny learned to pickpocket. Not much, just enough for a bottle when his ran out. He stayed human. At first he tried to convince himself that it was because he didn’t want to be perceived as a meta in a city where Batman notoriously disliked metas. Then, as he sunk deeper, he admitted to himself in a shameful curl of a whisper that it was really because alcohol affected his human side much easier.

Ghosts need an ungodly amount of alcohol to even get slightly buzzed. Danny’s human side? Only one full bottle the shittiest tequila he could find could even hope to be more than buzzed. It sucked.

He’s spent two years being an alcoholic that didn’t actually get that drunk. Technically, underage drinking was a crime. But then again, so was being a vigilante ghost. So, whatever. He does what he can to dull the grief. Mostly, he slept on covered and hidden nooks on top of Crime Alley’s roofs. Gotham city had taken pity on him and cleared her smog clouds when he was awake at night. Stargazing helped, at least. It gave him a little hope. It gave him a little wish to change and better and live like he wants. But then the night ends and when the day comes, Jazz isn’t there. Sam isn’t there. Tucker isn’t there. His mom and dad are not there.

Danny always went back to the bottle, in the end. Not that it did much.

Which was why, when he saw three looming figures over a tiny child, Danny’s saving people thing flared with a vengeance and his surprised ectoplasm burned what little buzz he had achieved by downing most of the bottle away, leaving him stone cold sober and pissed.

Danny sighed, dumping the rest of the nasty tasting liquid out. There’s no point drinking that little.

He approached the trio, who were beating up an actual child. Ancients, he hated Crime Alley sometimes.

“Give me your shit, you little punk!” Asshole 1 decided to say like a typical mugger, raising his leg to kick the curled up kid below. Danny doesn’t let him land the kick, smashing the bottle on the asshole’s head before any of them clocked his presence. He pivots, pushing a bit of that extra strength he normally keeps on a tight leash into his hands, and punched the other two in a quick fashion, knocking them out.

With that taken care of, Danny turned back to the kid who was still curled up. Danny sighed again, the trembles in small shoulders plucking on his heartstrings.

“You okay, kid?”

The kid uncurls, and Danny stared. Holy shit, is he looking into a mirror? Blue eyes, black hair, and tanned skin. Holy shit, he’s even got similar jaws to Danny.

“Huh.”

The kid flinched.

“Y-y’er the drunk,” the kid flinched again, eyes darting to the broken bottle still clenched in Danny’s hand. “I- I ain’t got money, honest. Please-”

Danny blinked down at the kid, brain connecting the dots after so long without actual interaction. He’s panicking and staring at the bottle in Danny’s hand like it’ll kill him. Danny raised the bottle and the kid closed his mouth with a click, terror worming its way into the kid’s eyes.

“I wasn’t going to mug you myself, kid.”

“But- y’er the- the Alley drunk.”

Danny blinked. Did he get a reputation without knowing again? Goddammit.

“I guess. Am I famous or somethin’?”

“Nobody- nobody fucks wit’ ya.”

“I also don’t hurt kids.”

“…”

The kid stared at him dubiously and with a sinking feeling, Danny realized that maybe the kid already had some terrible experiences with a heavy drunken hand. He promptly chucks the bottle further into the alley.

“I drink, yes. But I’m also not the kind of scum that would lay hands on a kid, let alone anyone that didn’t provoke it first.”

“Oh.” The kid uncurled more, looking at Danny warily, more at ease now that the bottle has left the chat.

“Yeah. I’m Danny. Stone cold sober, right now.”

“…”

Danny waited.

“Peters.”

“Okay. Peters, do you wanna take their shit?” Danny pointed a thumb at the knocked out would-be-muggers behind him.

“Y… yeah, sure. What’s my cut?”

“All of it.”

Peters stared.

Danny shrugged and started looting.

"Y'er so fuckin' weird."

----

See, the thing is, Danny hadn't anticipated saving Peters- "'s actually Jason"- would result in having a duckling following him around. The kid, Jason, glared at everyone who even looked at them wrong. But that's not the problem, because Danny could take anyone who took issue with Jason's looks, it's more like there's a child following him around now and Danny doesn't want to be the reason Jason turns into an alcoholic. It's- well, it made him cut down on the drinking. He even got jobs- legitimate jobs that sucks out his his poor ectoplasmic soul.

Why? Because Jason's apparently homeless. While that's something Danny's okay with for himself, he can't ever condone that for an actual child. Jason's walking around in threadbare clothes and thin soled shoes in the middle of Fall, for Ancient's sake.

Danny grumbles as he piled a bunch of clothes into the shopping bag as he checked out. Gotham's Walmart is a different kind of hell, but Danny feels right at home.

Sure, the work might suck out his soul and he might hate being sober, but Jason's face every time he comes home to an actual place to live, warm clothes, and food was worth everything.

#danny phantom #dc x dp #DCxDP #dpxdc #jason todd #batman #crime alley #Danny: im gonna be an alcoholic #also Danny: a child needs help and I don’t drink anymore #Danny phantom’s saving people thing #drunk danny #alcoholic danny #but not for long #danny adopts jason todd #jason todd follows his big brother into being a vigilante #kind of #he becomes robin #but gets rescued by his long suffering brother every once and a while #alley drunk! Danny AU

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soapysudz · 1 month

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Cue mindless artist noises. Another drawing for what will be a few second clip in a video smh

#red hood fanart #batfam #jason todd #red hood #Crime alley

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oldmannapping · 8 months

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HC: Everyone in Crime Alley knows who Red Hood is.

They don’t know he’s Jason Todd but

-Norma Marshall knows that the young man who sporadically stays in the apartment across the hall from her, who fixed the building’s heating for free, is the Red Hood. She’s heard him coming back at all hours. She leaves him care packages with homemade chutney and Bandaids because she doesn’t have much but she knows his work is dangerous. Some loud angry men were banging on his door one day and she hid behind her door throwing eggs at them until they left.

-Brent Taylor knows that the guy who installed the security system for the youth LGBTQIA+ safe space centre is the Red Hood. He just showed up one day after they’d had their fifth vandalised window in three weeks, and set it up for nothing. Called it a civic duty. That same night, known Red Hood crew members started loitering purposefully in the area, escorting kids to the centre if they were too shy or scared to come alone.

Brent saw the guy about a month later, leaving a grocery store and ducking into an apartment building nearby. He’s pretty sure he knows where the Red Hood lives, but he’s not saying a fucking word.

-Angela Walters knows that the man who donates to the homeless shelter twice a month is the Red Hood. She knows that the Hood has a connection to the streets and his donations are always thoughtful and practical - not the generic canned corn most people throw into a box. His donations started at the same time as the anti-homeless bus shelters were dismantled by the Red Hood gang and replaced with traditional long benches.

She’s had police sniffing around asking questions before. She sent them on a wild goose chase on the other side of the city and actually got a little bit of a thrill out of it.

-Carla Moreno (street name Liza) knows that Red Hood is a guy with a hard jaw and white streak in his hair. Hood had been running off a John who’d been rough with Miley and the guy had gotten a lucky shot at the helmet with a brick. The girls pulled a dazed Hood into a nearby alley while the John ran off, and he’d taken off the broken helmet.

It was dark and he was wearing a domino mask, but pair the hair with his build and it was a pretty distinctive look. Carla knows that if she tried, she could find him. She doesn’t; she just compliments him on his upgraded helmet when she sees him a few weeks later.

-Ernesto Reyes knows that he’s the Red Hood’s mechanic. The guy calls himself Jay, is chill, and chats to Ernesto in easy Spanish when he comes to pick up his bike, but come on. Everyone in Crime Alley knows that bike. Ernesto’s had to fix bullet holes. Jay’s bike helmet is fucking red. The guy’s either dumb as fuck, cocky as fuck, or a dramatic shithead but either way he pays well and Ernesto’s had worse customers. He’s not telling anybody anything.

Meanwhile Jason’s just like “DOOP DI DOO sure is good to be a super sneaky crime lord ha Ha I’m so much better than Batman”

#headcannons #batman #jason todd #red hood #gotham #crime alley #batfamily headcanons #Jason Todd is Latino headcanon #I’m gonna end up writing this as a fic aren’t I #I mean unless someone else wants to do it #latino jason todd #bat family

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thecruellestmonth · 3 months

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The Narrows ≠ Crime Alley = Park Row

"Crime Alley" is a nickname for the Park Row neighborhood.

Crime Alley (officially known as Park Row) is not the same neighborhood as the Narrows.

Crime Alley was introduced as a distinct area in Detective Comics #457 (1976).

The Narrows area was introduced in the 2005 movie Batman Begins. After the New 52 reboot, in about 2013, the Narrows popped up in the comics.

Doctor Leslie Thompkins has worked in Park Row (later known as Crime Alley) since Bruce was a young child.

Bruce Wayne's parents were murdered in Park Row. Their deaths caused Park Row to become known as Crime Alley. After Park Row became Crime Alley, businesses left, and the neighborhood deteriorated into the worst slum in Gotham.

Jason Todd is from Crime Alley.

Duke Thomas is from the Narrows.

#Duke Thomas #Gotham City #Jason Todd #The Narrows #Crime Alley #Park Row #Batkids #Batman comics #DC Outsiders #DC Robin #Leslie Thompkins #Bruce Wayne #Batman #Thomas Wayne #Martha Wayne

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ghost-bxrd · 4 months

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i, living ghost

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theartistonthemoon · 5 months

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This started off less gloomy

….then I added color and the knowledge of his tragedy so here we are now

#jason todd #artfromthemoon #dc comics #batfam #batfamily #dc fanart #digital art #crime alley #gotham #bruce and jason #red hood #jason todd robin

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lordgrimoire · 1 year

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Jack Fenton is From Gotham, a Headcannon

So, Jack Fenton, Big, caring, Dad Shaped Individual who cares about Family and his Profession and would more than likely choose family if things went Funky. The Guy who has ran through multiple walls and is capable of fighting Ecto beings BARE FISTED and winning. This guy, who just looks at the mayhem around him and goes “Ah, a peaceful day.” while Maddie is losing her entire god damned mind. You can only really get that sort of attitude about chaos in a few places, and I think Jack was born and raised in Gotham, and furthermore, I think his parents generation of Fentons lived in Crime Alley.

The IDEAS this gives me, like in a reveal gone sideways with the GIW finding out Jack takes Danny and hides out in his childhood romping grounds and the people just go “Oh Hey, Jack’s back.” and they just melt into the underbelly of Gotham, no one really the wiser and the GIW constantly losing vehicles and Agents to the meatgrinder that is Crime Alley.

Give Me Jack Fenton who has SEEN SOME SHIT, Give me Jack Fenton who has DONE SOME SHIT. This man knows how to do a lot of things and the legality therein can get very Sketchy. Then give us the glory and horror of Gothamites slowly emigrating too/immigrating from Amity Park and it’s just like, That Explains A LOT.

I ran away with this, I shall now tag folks who I think would like this.

@stealingyourbones

@captain-krow-drozdov

#dp x dc #dc x dp #danny phantom #batman #gotham #gothamites #jack fenton #crime alley #dc #Jack Fenton is From Gotham au

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batbusiness-schooldropout · 1 year

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Jason has almost unionized all the sex workers in Gotham. He keeps detailed records of everyone's complaints about certain clients. There are several clinics in town who recognize "Red Hood said to come here" as a form of insurance or co-pay. You'll find several apartment windows with little red bats drawn on them. That's so you know that person has a free bed or sells food or clothes on the side

Crime Alley might be shit but with Jason around, people can start helping and trusting each other

#batfam #jason todd #red hood #crime alley #gotham

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sporadicsweetswitch · 6 months

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sansnomp4 · 9 months

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Jason kick some ass

Inspirés by a photographe

#batman #robin #red hood #batfam #dc batman #dc robin #jason todd #gotham #crime alley

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shyjusticewarrior · 2 months

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The parallelism of Park Row becoming Crime Alley and Jason going from Robin to Red Hood.

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soapysudz · 2 months

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Making a little Jason edit but there's so much drawing for a few second long video uuuuuugggggh

#Anyway #Jason hugging a kid he rescued from some dire Gotham situation #Red hood #Protects #Crime alley #That is all

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oldmannapping · 2 months

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Mama - a Red Hood fanfic

Directly inspired by this post by @webshood

Excerpt:

You don’t jack a car in Crime Alley. And you definitely don’t jack a car in Crime Alley that almost certainly has a child in it.

The “Welcome To Gotham: 10 Things You Need To Know” pamphlets that Harley Quinn earnestly distributed to newcomers to the Gotham underworld were very clear about Red Hood’s list of Dos and Don’t.

Among the top Don’ts were:

Crime in Crime Alley

Crimes against women in Crime Alley

Crimes against children in Crime Alley

Mama

It wouldn’t have happened if she hadn’t been so goddam cute.

Felicia Aidia, barely a year old. Couldn’t quite walk yet, but she could stand unassisted for five seconds of startled jubilance before her own shock at the situation would send her flopping back on her adorable diapered butt. Huge almond eyes that were nearly black, wispy black hair and full pink cheeks, she looked altogether too cherubic to be real.

Felicia had been strapped safely in a booster seat, poking at the condensation on the window of the rideshare car she was in with her babysitter, when they were carjacked by an idiot with either a death wish or less situational awareness than a stoned beetle.

There was no other excuse for why this man jacked a She-Share, one of the brightly-marked cars in a fleet that was famous for being Gotham’s first rideshare company to boast child seats in every one of their vehicles at no extra cost.

They were famously affordable and primarily utilised by single parents in low-income areas such as Crime Alley.

You don’t jack a car in Crime Alley. And you definitely don’t jack a car in Crime Alley that almost certainly has a child in it.

Among the top Don’ts were:

Crime in Crime Alley

Crimes against women in Crime Alley

Crimes against children in Crime Alley

The car thief had shoved the driver and Felicia’s babysitter out of the vehicle but utterly failed to notice the giant car seat and the appropriately-sized child occupying it.

A city-wide Amber Alert was out within minutes, which honestly was pretty good considering it happened in Crime Alley and Gotham police liked to pretend that area was just a mysterious Bermuda Triangle kinda place where people just mysteriously went missing, who can say why, oh well, what can you do.

The police were fast but Red Hood was faster.

The vigilante was leaping across rooftops with the speed of a panther. One police helicopter pilot completely forgot their assignment and started following him instead of the stolen car. People livestreamed blurry videos of the car careening around corners that hadn’t yet been blocked off, panning up to catch a glimpse of red metal and brown leather streaking across the sky in pursuit.

The end was anticlimactic. Hood crashed onto the roof of the car from the awning of a deli like a feral beast and punched straight through the driver’s side window. He knocked the driver out and wrested control of the vehicle until it skidded to a stop a few blocks away from the official police cordon.

Before any officers got there, Hood had hogtied the unconscious car thief and carefully extracted Felicia from her carseat.

She let out a small, uncertain wail at the sight and sound of cheering locals, crowding close to film and too boisterous with relief to realise they were scaring a baby.

Felicia pouted. It had been loud, and then fast, and then unfamiliar, and then loud again, and suddenly she was outside, and she was supposed to be napping, and she didn’t know any of these people.

Wait, yes she did. The man cradling her protectively with one arm and holding the other out to the crowd, telling them to, “Back off, back off, give her some space,”, she’d seen him before. She didn’t know how but he was familiar. His big red face (no eyes, very strange, no mouth too! How did he suck his thumb?) wasn’t scary. He was the man on the wall painting! The big wall near the playground had a picture of him painted on it. The playground was safe, and he reminded her of the playground. He was holding her protectively and he was all nice and warm.

Felicia didn’t know many words. But she did know the word she used for the person who felt safest.

“Mama!” she said loudly, clinging to the red man’s arm. “Mama!”

“It’s okay, kiddo,” he said in a very soothing voice for someone without a mouth, “We’ll get your mom.”

A police officer arrived and tried to take Felicia away. She did not appreciate it.

“Mama!” she cried louder, torn between frustration and fear. No one ever listened to her! She reached for the red man. “MAMA!”

Well. Like we said. She was so goddam cute. All eyes were on her fat little face, her adorable, freshly-rescued, chubby little hands reaching out to Red Hood. Everyone was filming her on their phones.

And she called the Red Hood “Mama”, in a perfectly clear, tiny, adorable little baby voice.

Of course it went viral.

For a while, it was a fun in-joke between Gothamites. People playing vigilante bingo to see who they’d spot each night would jokingly ask each other if they’d seen “Mama” down by the docks. Goons blustered amongst themselves that “Mama” didn’t scare them, as they kept their heads down and prayed he didn’t notice them. One bold news website captioned a picture as “Red Hood/Mama” in a story about Felicia’s rescue, while the commenters lost their minds either rofl skull skull skull dying laughing or warning the editors that they should be careful in case the trigger-happy vigilante didn’t have a sense of humour.

Closer to Hood’s home though, the reception was different. And, to him, wholly unexpected.

It started with Felix, the 16-year-old who’d been a sex worker until Hood cleaned up the under-18 scene in the Alley, and who now helped shuttle street kids to the lowkey safehouses Hood and his team had set up. Felix was a good middleman the kids trusted to take them somewhere with food, water, electricity, and no one called CPS. It wasn’t perfect, but it was a good compromise until Hood could clean the stink out of the city’s social services.

Felix was smoking on a stack of crates one night, chatting to a couple of his friends, when Hood strolled over.

“Hola, Mama,” Felix greeted casually, taking a drag of his cigarette as his friends choked.

Hood just sighed. “Not you too.” With a weary exhale, he got to business. “I got those extra blankets you needed for the safehouse on Cedar. They’re at the Warehouse B if you want to run them over tonight. Sheila knows you’re coming, she’ll sort you out.”

And so, with Felix not dead and two witnesses with big mouths to tell the tale, word spread. It was open season on Red Hood’s new nickname.

“Hey, mama!” called the girls on the corner as Hood checked to make sure none of the johns had gotten too rough.

“Mama’s here!” crowed the gays and theys across the block as he dropped off condoms and hot soup.

“It’s mama!” announced the receptionist at the shelter when Red Hood stopped by to do an inventory check.

Everywhere he went.

Whatever. It would pass. People’s attention spans were shot to shit, and the loudest viral jokes always burnt out the fastest. At least, Hood was pretty sure. He wasn’t really online much but it was impossible to exist in the world without hearing a few meme references, and they always seemed to die out fast. When was the last time anyone talked about Baby Shark? Or that kid who said “corn” weird? This would blow over.

Granted, it was taking a bit longer than Hood initially expected.

When Dick gleefully changed his name in the Family Chat, Jason ignored it. He never replied to that thing anyway.

When Red Robin said, “Mama, you’re clear,” in perfectly neutral tones during an otherwise routine surveillance operation, and several comm lines immediately muted themselves, Jason ignored it.

When Damian’s new black kitten, with huge blue eyes and a white streak on the forehead, was named Mama, Jason started to get annoyed. Even DAMIAN?

When Roy answered his call with, “Mama, I missed you!” followed by thirty seconds of unhinged cackling, Jason hung up the phone and didn’t speak to Roy for three days.

When Cass used the ASL sign for Mom to relay information to him during a mission brief, his shoulders dropped.

When Alfred gave him an exquisite pink cupcake on the second Sunday of May, Jason thanked him, left the room, walked into the nearest bathroom, carefully put the cupcake on the bench, and screamed into a towel for six minutes.

When Duke finished a story about growing up in the Narrows with, “Mama knows what I’m talking about, right?”, Jason was defeated.

Fine. They win. Everyone wins.

He worked so hard on a legacy. He dug out of his own GRAVE. He clawed himself back from insanity and anger and reclaimed himself, reclaimed Red Hood, reclaimed his home. He carved a new space for himself, not quite a vigilante, not quite a villain. He made his own rules. He built an empire.

And now, he’s FUCKING Mama.

Life isn’t fair. Sometimes the Joker kills you and you sever heads and butcher bad guys and build up a reputation and then one goddam adorable child says two goddam syllables and you’re fucking MAMA for the rest of your goddam life.

Fuck it. He’s going home. He’s too tired for this shit.

#batman #red hood #jason todd #dick grayson #batfamily #roy harper #tim drake #damian wayne #duke thomas #harley quinn #batman fanfiction #crime alley #crack fic

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