Danny moves to Gotham and buys an apartment building.
It was more just a fun project for him to fix up the building, seeing as how after he took over VladCo, and cleaning up operations, Danny was making more money than ever, even after donating to various charities. So yeah, he was bored and just wanted to get his hands dirty and personally repair the appartments.
Once everything was fixed up, he opened the appartments for rent. He didn't really want to charge people, especially in such an area as Crime Alley, but not charging someone rent is way more sketchy than just asking them to pay whatever they could or wanted to. He ended up just setting the money aside to use on the appartments should it need any upgrades or repairs. He doesn't only take money either, while he denies "physical" payments and/or narcotics, he'll take lessons, like the man in 2B teaching him to sew, or the woman in 5A teaching him how to cook, or the two kids who give him very interesting shiny rocks as payment, there was even a few people who paid by cleaning the appartment building's shared places. One teenager paid rent one month by giving Danny a pair of sickly black and white kittens they found outside(they're named Casper, and Specter, and they're the Building's Managers in Pest Apprehension, and Danny loves them).
Because the appartments are so close to where the working girls/boys run, they make up most of his tenants, so Danny asks them to not bring clients back to the apartments, its dangerous to let their clients know where they live, especially because there are other tenants, including children, in the building so its a safety risk. They all agree, they don't really want their clients knowing where they live anyway.
Some do get stalkers though, and Danny is quick to get rid of them. Or when burglars manage to break in, Danny stops them before they can take anything, and if he managed to miss the burglar, he'll personally replace whatever was stolen until they could get the original stuff back. (Maybe he should adopt a gaurd dog, at least for the intimidation factor. Cane Corso's are medium sized*, hes sure he could get away with getting something like that. Something to think about later.)
A lot of his tenants say Danny is really kind, but thats not how Danny sees it, and its something he loudly denies. He's a bored rich person who was taking advantage of his wealth. Him providing them a safe place to live, and a little bit of comfort isn't kindness, its basic human decency. He's not some saint who is doing this of his own kind heart, he's a normal guy who was bored and just decided to do something helpful opposed to harmful, and he shouldn't be praised for that.
*Danny's idea of Dog sizes is skewed, to him Cugo is a big dog, anything smaller than that is medium to small to xsmall.
Bonus
-Red Hood(or the bats in general) thinks the appartment building was suspicious. Maybe it was some rich guy just being nice, but outside of Bruce, stuff like that doesn't happen in Gotham. Maybe its money laundering, or its acting as an underground brothel, or the owner is actually a massive creep. Either way, they want to be discreet, they don't want to ruin a good thing for people in need if everything happens to be clean happenings. So, they go under cover, Jason acts like a working boy, Damian is a abused kid/teen on the run, Steph is hiding from a abusive ex, maybe Alfred gets in on it and acts like an old man whos boss just fired him because of with no severance pay?
-Everytime Danny starts to get bored, he buys another building to fix up. Not always appartment building's, maybe a hotel, or an auto garage, or an abandoned building he could gut and turn into rec center. You'd think Danny would be burning through money, but no, somehow Danny's happenings leaked and it was good press because people are buying things from VladCo more and more.
A regular part of my job is trying to reach out to people who have been quietly trying to make their community a better place; the volunteers, the teachers, the fucking. People who rehabilitate injured wild owls in a Quonset hut in the woods, and to a one this is the kind of person who immediately reviles at recognition. The kind of person who immediately says that they never got into this to get praise for it, and that they’d infinitely prefer to quietly plug away at this anonymously forever.
And from this I’ve always drawn two conclusions:
To always distrust Mr. Beast and his ilk who always want their acts of charity done on film, because the people who really want to do good and have no motives to do it besides the doing it never want recognition for it, and
That there are, in the dark, in the quiet, always people who are doing good, and the reason you don’t hear about it is because they’d rather die than receive recognition for it, but they’re real; they do exist. And you are never alone
tried to doodle a form for ghirahim that looks more like demise after i changed his design more (bc he kinda should look alot like him originally since hes literally made of a part of his spirit..)
when i was a tiny baby queer (aka a 24-year-old), i went to my first pride festival probably three months after i kicked ex-gay therapy to the curb and came out to my parents. being the people they are, my parents came with me. they weren’t really sure about this whole gay thing, but they loved me and wanted me to be safe and happy and wanted to be involved in what was important to me, so they came along. (i also think my mother still might have thought i might get drugged or murdered or beaten by a protester of which there were plenty.)
anyway i wanted a memento of my first pride, you know, and this one vendor was selling keyrings, and i liked it, so i bought one. do you remember those italian charm bracelets that were all the rage like 10-15 years ago? it was a keychain like that, and it had a rainbow rooster, a rainbow cat, and then just a rainbow, and so I bought it.
i run into my mom a couple of vendors over and she goes oh you bought something? what’d you get? so i showed her, and i was like, “I’m not sure why it’s a rooster and a cat. Seems kind of random. But I liked the rainbows.”
and my mom, who was some form of minister’s wife for most of my childhood and teenagerhood, stares at me like she thinks i’m joking.
“What?” i say.
“…it’s a cock and a pussy, Jules,” she says flatly, and that is the story of how i died at the age of 24 while attending my first pride festival.
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