Danny no longer has a haunt. So… he decides to find another one. And while he technically has a whole world (other dimensions aren’t an option because he’s going to stay near where Jazz’s grave is, damn it) there’s only a couple of other places with enough ambient ectoplasm to sustain him. Nanda Parbat, Tokyo, and Gotham.
Nanda Parbat had a weird old musty immortal that kept trying to summon him and exchange power for the ability to “take a worthy body and rain as much destruction” as he’d like. As if Danny would need a body to bring the world to its knees.
Tokyo… it’s too far from Jazz’s grave. He could ask Wulf or even open his own portal but when Danny tried it out, Tokyo was too peaceful. Obviously there’s crime, but nothing… nothing big like Danny’s used to.
Danny ends up picking Gotham, even if the sewer zombies and the weird group of rich fruit loops with an adoption problem creeps him out. So, he destroys the portal, packs up his parents’ house and sells it, and hauls ass to the cesspool calling his name. His family’s stuff is stored respectfully in a vault located on the deepest parts of his personal haunt in the Infinite Realms.
And honestly, he’s doing better. Sure, he’s got a shitty apartment near another revenant’s almost-haunt and he feels like he’s drowning all of the time, but Danny isn’t in danger of turning into Dan, he’s catching up on royal paperwork, and he’s got like a job as a barista. In his own coffee shop that paid for using his parent’s money (who, despite their hazardous everything, made a crap ton of money off of their more normal inventions).
Gotham’s got some pretty interesting local gangs, most of which respected the sanctity of Danny’s cafe. Sure, they tried blowing it up and tried extorting money from him in the form of “protection costs” but after three months of failure, they gave up.
(Really, the local gangs gave up when they saw him take three shotgun shells to the chest and continued to work.) (They didn’t know it never hit him. Intangibility is extremely useful.)
The Rogues, on the other hand, just gave Danny flashbacks. Their gimmicks are different, sure, but after years of Box Ghost, Skuller, Lunch Lady, etc., Danny’s more than done with costumed villains. They don’t bother him either. Some of the reason is probably due to Harley and Ivy, who had walked into the cafe and (because they were bruised and scratched up from a fight) triggered Danny’s mother hen tendencies. They were promptly fed and watered and caffeinated and their hyenas were also similarly taken care of. They declared the cafe under their protection and that was that.
Red Hood stops by, and begins to interrogate him. But when Danny met his… helmet eyes? The crime lord paused, paid for his coffee, and sat in a corner table of the cafe for the rest of the day.
And he kept coming back?
But Danny figures it’s because Hood was a revenant and people who had come close to death tends to feel more comfortable around him.
(Considering this is Gotham where people almost die every other day? Yeah, he’s pretty much friends with everyone. Or at least, less likely to get shot.)
(Hood does stay because of the King’s presence and the Pit calming itself, but also Danny’s hot and he’s got a sleeper build and Hood definitely did not imagine himself in the place of the heavy box he saw Danny lift effortlessly onto a table. No.)
But of course, the peace couldn’t last forever. But by then, Danny was so antsy, he welcomed the trouble with open arms.
It starts with a clown. Danny knows who he is. He knows who Danny is.
So, Danny has no idea why the clown thought it would be a good idea to aggravate the owner of Gotham’s official neutral grounds. See, Clovkwork? Danny’s learned how to gauge his own political importance!
“HAHAHAHAHA! COME OUT, DANNY-BOY! LET ME TELL YOU A JOKE!”
Danny comes out and grabs a chair, and with a flat expression, says, “you’re not funny and I hate clowns.”
And then he swings and slams the chair into the Joker’s face. Over and over again until Danny’s sure the clown won’t get back up. The thing about Gotham’s outdoor chairs is that they’re mad out of steel and are bolted down to the ground to prevent undedicated thieves (dedicated thieves can and will steal the bolted down steel chairs). The Joker’s hired muscle just watched this scrawny twenty-something year old yank the steel chair and take some of the fucking ground and the bolts with it and beat the fuck out of their boss who is the literal Joker.
They surrender on the spot and is taken to jail. Danny just smiles at the officers who come by and since he’s got pretty privilege and they don’t want to mess with the guy who, again, owns one of Gotham’s official neutral ground and also beat up Joker without breaking a sweat, the officers just lets him go with a warning.
And then the bats comes, and wow, Danny’s playing mentor to a formally dead person again!
But before that, the Red Hood asks for an autograph on the Gotham Gazette article with a picture of a tired Danny standing over Joker’s prone body. Then Hood stammers through asking Danny out (which Danny said yes to because he’s tired, not blind, and Hood is built like a brick house and HOT).
Batman interrogates him. Danny, who can tell that this man needs therapy and is Sad TM, tells Bats that Danny’s died before and that’s why he’s like this. He also calls Batman a furry, but like in a nice way. And then he kicks Batman out with a coffee and a file on Nanda Parbat.
Now, Danny’s got a date to prepare for and he realizes that maybe this is what Jazz wanted for him- to be happy and mostly safe and happy. (Or, happier, he thinks. It’s been a long time since he’s been truly happy, but this might be a good start)
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cause i love to love, to love, to love you
↬ in which you have him all lovesick and smiles
includes; dazai, chūya, atsushi, fyodor
notes; i am gonna pretend i didn’t disappear for 2-3 months. this has been in my drafts for so long :( i tried to clean it up as much as i could but it’s really old jfjdks
DAZAI
dazai appears happy. present tense.
his typical inquiries for double suicides came to lessen to conscious degree, substituting in drinking sake together when the sun cowers, nothing but a string of nonsensical chatter proceeding each sip.
he was sticky like that: unannounced visits, impromptu phone calls, sudden changes in his schedule to accommodate yours. in any case, he isn’t one to shy from stooping as low as whining if it rewards him with your familiar face.
( his windpipes splinter before he could mutter it out loud, but the solitude that’s wedged deep in his bones for so long felt lighter when you were near. he questions how long such benevolence would last before becoming sullied by his hand… ).
…and yet all things considered, it hasn’t deterred him from courting you nonetheless. at times he can’t help but think he’s taken a bite of his own medicine when he’s the one skipping around like a helpless maiden.
and yet again in spite of it all, his brazenness remains perpetually untouched as ever. he entertains different approaches if only to coax out a new reaction from you and he’s not bashful in the slightest. so much so, he remains unruffled even under the scrutiny of your coworkers.
. . .
“ this is highly unprofessional.”
“ don’t be so mean, bella. don’t you know how much i missed you?”
your eyes flit down to the man currently using your lap as a headrest, the rest of his body stretching over the expanse of the couch. he was shameless, that much was certain, but his ability to remain unperturbed whilst in his lovey dovey state was impressive. you cocked a brow, sighing.
“ osamu.” his lips visually twitched at the call of his name; it’s a word warm on your tongue but leaves the hairs on his nape at your mercy anyway. " you saw me fifteen minutes ago—”
“ twenty.” he corrected, cheeky (and quite frankly, you wouldn’t be surprised if he pulled that number out his ass). “ but it was the longest twenty minutes of my life.”
he was unrepentant as ever, experimentally positioning his head to rest on the plush on your thighs. by muscle memory, he began to absently draw shapes wherever he could reach, a crude rendition of stars decorating over the bend of your knee.
he smiles innocently when you squint at him, the gleam in his eyes unwavering. “ only a couple more minutes and i would have been yours,” you mutter out, your voice not as sturdy as you hoped. “ at home.”
dazai almost turns pouty at that. almost. “ but my love, i’ve missed you like crazy. twenty minutes is too long, how can i possibly manage?” the words come out through a breathy exhale and you watch as his lashes kiss his cheeks when he flutters them closed. “ all i could think about is you. and now i have you right here.” he hopes his words carry as much truth as the way his heart does, scurrying away the cold that's mocked him for so long. “ can’t we just stay like this a little longer? pretty please?”
resigned to your fate, you could only clamor your palms over your features— if only to salvage your waning dignity from your coworkers.
unfortunate though… that in doing so you miss the blissful smile curling on his lips as he peeks at you from below. and atsushi notes(after throughly grimacing, not expecting him to be so blunt), it reaches his eyes too.
CHŪYA
" chūya-"
" you can't flirt with me. i have a partner."
terse, stubborn and slurred. if the groggy voice wasn’t enough to confirm your suspicions, the shit-face look belonging to your boyfriend did. he was drunk. wasted if you were to speak bluntly.
in truth, it really doesn’t come off as much of a surprise; his ability to hold his liquor was nothing to brag of (despite what he may profusely argue) and you’re half-convinced he’s already forgotten his own name.
still, you don’t loosen your grip on his sleeve even under the figurative holes he’s burned with his stare. “ chūya. i am your partner.”
“you—! wha-!” his voice erupts into a sudden warble, eyes akin to saucers. " you… you are??"
he takes what’s left of his thinning rationality to study you proper; the style of your hair, your clothing, the smell of perfume/cologne, the familiar quirk of your lips—
oh, he thinks as you push back the loose bangs veiling his face. he doesn’t make any attempts to move, feet stalled and eyes blinking, evidently stunned.
you decide to press on. “ do i look familiar now…?” the lilit of your voice grazes against his ear, plucking out a faint memory tucked somewhere in the crevice of his fuzzy head.
oh. he thinks twice, the stern look bruising his face thawing.
without realizing it, he squares his shoulders in any attempt to remedy his current disheveled appearance, slumped posture pulled taut in— what he hopes— was a more put together frame. conversely, he wobbles on his feet when you continue to eat away at the distance, the ghost of your touch pushing pinpricks into his skin.
“ you’re- you’re really all mine…?” he cringes as soon as it leaves his mouth, coming off eager and hopeful. something like a laugh escapes you and he can’t tell if that’s what made his stomach turn or the alcohol. perhaps both.
“ that’s what i’ve been trying to tell you. you’re so stubborn when you’re drunk.” you punctuate the words with a kiss to his cheek, now warm with revelation. chūya, exhausting the last bits of his energy, shrinks beneath it, a gloved hand clutching his reddened face defensively.
“ why haven’t i made you my spouse yet?” he remarks it so suddenly, you nearly choke on air. he can’t even comprehend what you say thereafter or register the look beginning to contort your features, nothing but liquid courage keeping him afloat.
but- well, if there’s anything the haze trotting his head and his thinning cognition could agree on, it’s that your ring finger appears a little too barren for his liking.
( but not for much longer, he hopes )
ATSUSHI
the sudden change in atsushi’s behavior was a notable observation within the ADA, many of whom watched as the weretiger became stupefied by a face belonging to you. it wasn’t long before concluding it was all the result of a crush; the culprit of which being atsushi himself who played his hand poorly at discretion.
the lovesick chatter would leave his mouth without much rationality, waxing of "[name] this" or "[name] that," and effectively becoming on the receiving end of his praises. it was almost a routine of sorts, occupied by stutters, belated responses and his fidgety footfalls. by the end of it, he fruitlessly attempts to steady his rabbiting heart— if only to stop his blush from staining beyond his cheeks.
even now as he silhouettes by the agency door, the rattle of rain is deafened by the rush of blood to his ears. he anxiously worries the handle of the umbrella in his palms, bouncing from one sole of his feet to the other. should he just ask you? maybe he should wait… now that he thinks about it would be more appropriate to just leav—
“ damn it.” he perks at your sound of displeasure, his heart spiking. “ so much for leaving in a hurry…” you stiffen, realizing you have nothing but a coat protect you from the weather. the flimsy jacket you hurriedly plucked from your wardrobe only added flavor to your disappointment.
atsushi doesn’t miss the opportunity; his feet carries him to you before the unpleasant voice lurking deep in his subconscious bullies him otherwise. “ we can share,” he gestures to his own, silently praying his voice was leveled. it wobbles anyway and by now his knuckles are sheen white as a product of his nerves.
with the organ jumping around in his chest, he almost doesn’t register your ‘thank you,’ only that his fingers were quickly undoing the straps of the umbrella before you could change your mind ( he impulsively bought it earlier that day— his previous pair worned out and far too tiny for two people. but when you thank him with a kind smile, hands slightly brushing with each step, he argues it was the best 800 yen he’s ever spent ).
… that said, a more appropriate question is how you managed to remain naive to all his pining for so long— he’s become despairingly obvious against his own good and yet he can’t find it in himself to change himself, a perpetual lovesick look copy and pasted whenever you entered his proximity.
the same can't be said to everyone else however and he wasn’t particularly pleased when he caught wind of the bets exchanged among his treacherous colleagues. he fears it's only a matter of time before one of them blabs their tongue to you. at this rate, perhaps one of them should.
. . .
" y'know atsushi," ranpo once said, offering his companion a gleaming simper. " you reallllyyy talk about [name] a lot."
"oh.”
his heart flutters, eyes slowly blinking.
" yeah,” he smiles. “ i guess i do.”
FYODOR
" you've been awfully quiet, my dear." fyodor’s voice was just loud enough over the sound of clashing cutlery, fixing you a gaze of genuine interest. " is the meal not to your liking?"
you feel your lips twist into a frown. for being attentive, he (for once) falsely saunters pass the source of your displeasure, failing to recognize the extent of your internal woes. " no- no-" you fidget with your fingers, ignoring the way your propped elbows skidded against the table. the behaviour doesn't go unnoticed by the former, who takes it upon himself to hook his index fingers with yours. “ there’s something i’ve been meaning to ask of you. a… request of sorts.”
“ what is it? i’ll have it shipped to you by the end of the week,” he offers generously though it quickly fades into a confused hum when you shake your head at the proposition.
" it isn’t something you can buy…” you drop your gaze from him to the scantly poked portions of cuisine on your plate. fearing he may misinterpret your words and assume it to be unattainable - perhaps gifting you something ludicrous as a piece of land - you amended quickly. " it’s not what you assume to be either.”
at that, he bums questioningly. “ then what displeases you, my darling?” he provides a faint squeeze to your hand, igniting something warm and paradoxical to his thin layer of frigid skin. “ what can i offer to rid you that frown?”
" just your company.”
" my company?"
" yes." perplexed, he cocks his head; an invitation. willing an inhale to your lungs, you took a moment to gather possession of your words. “ these days you've been rather occupied. i was hoping for perhaps… if we may spend some time together?"
fyodor appears vaguely surprised by that, something unfamiliar fortifying around him. requesting his time felt like a hefty expenditure just in itself and it wasn’t too far fetched to assume he’ll disregard it in favor of some plot embellishing deep within his brain. but a swift refusal never comes.
“ i see,” he finally says after a brief pause. his voice was so soft you wondered if it was meant for you to hear.
it's grows quiet before he speaks again, the fingers curled around your hand withdrawing but not before providing the tips a delicate squeeze. " i can arrange some time tomorrow for you,” he proffers. “ will that satisfy your request, myshka?"
hardly anything can catch fyodor off guard, but something had to be said in the way you brightened at the suggestion, a deep curve coasting over your lips. how pleasant you are.
" yes," you hastily replied, dipping your head slightly. " more than perfect. thank you."
the way your lineaments crossed into a smile was always enduring to observe — exasperated, but one he wouldn’t mind seeing tomorrow knowing he was the cause for such elation.
( idly, he wonders what he can do to see it again ).
A/N !
i’ve been meaning to post this for months but it’s so old & i never quite (and still kinda don’t) liked it :(( fyodor’s is bit ooc jfjdkskla
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Rooo *hands u a mic 🎤* what do the demon brothers camera rolls look like???
okay this was fun XD
Silly / sweet (mostly silly) hcs!!
Lucifer ↓
So many photos of Cerberus, everything from really good photos where Cerberus is behaving to blurry pics because he won’t sit still.
A few photos of his paperwork (he keeps them like backups)
Candid photos of you-
A few photos of the two of you out together, think like sweet / date night pics <3
Photos of flowers or just random things that remind him of you. Sometimes he’ll even send them to you, just to let you know he’s thinking about you even while you’re apart.
Photos and videos of his brothers, a few candids, a few blurry messes and a few more of his brothers and you together at dinner. (From Luci’s pov it’s perfect- everybody he loves enjoying a meal together.)
Mammon ↓
Pictures of you- you studying, hanging out with him, sleeping, shopping- Mammon has pictures of you doing basically everything.
Pics of himself ofc, tons of selfies too!!
Assorted memes.
Pics of stuff he’s trying to sell online.
Screenshots of price comparison for stuff he wants to buy online.
screen shots / pics of stuff he wants to buy for you!!
Random photos of his brothers; stuff like Belphie sleeping on the couch, Asmo in the middle of doing his makeup, etc- typical older sibling, slightly embarrassing photos lolol
Levi ↓
Anime memes!
Pictures of Henry 2.0 !!!
Pics of his gaming setup so he can brag about it online.
Screenshots of every time you texted him ‘I love you’ or something sweet.
Random game screen shots.
Pics of himself in cosplay!!!-
Tons of photos of him at cons! (with and without you)
Satan ↓
High quality cat photos.
More cat photos, but it’s feral / street cats running away from him so they’re super blurry.
Cat videos.
Cat memes.
Photos of books he wants to buy.
Screenshots / photos of random book quotes or spells he wants to remember.
A few candid photos of you ofc!
a photo of Lucifer asleep at his desk, and that one time Lucifer spilled coffee down his shirt- Satan always says he’s saving them for blackmail but for some reason never uses them.
Asmo ↓
Photos of himself- soooo many selfies and every-single-one of them is hot.
His nudes + your nudes
Selfies of you and him!!!
Pics of random things, flowers, drinks, anything he thinks is pretty / cute and he can get a good pic of!!
Horrible pics / blurry videos of his brothers doing stupid shit. He uses them as blackmail :)
Beel ↓
Gym pics gym pic gym pics!!!-
But really he has some pics of himself in the gym and some videos so he can check his form.
Lots of food pics-
Screenshots of various menu's.
Videos of Belphie sleep talking.
Pics of you two out together, walking around town trying street food!
Belphie ↓
Pics of Beel working out pt.2 it’s supposed to be pics of Beel and Belphie working out- but Belphie always gives up after 1 rep.
Pics of You, Beel and Belphie cuddling in the attic!
Selfies that he usually sends to you to show off his horrible bed head-
Some blurry pics of the stars / the moon.
Pics / videos of you and him cuddling!!
Screenshots of pillows that he wants to buy-
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Blitzø’s self hatred has literally destroyed/ is in the process of destroying every good thing in his life. It destroyed his friendship with Fizzarolli (more in that later), it likely contributed to his fear of intimacy which is what destroyed his relationship with Verosika, and his fear of intimacy, which is fueled by his self hatred and fears of intimacy often are is drives him to talk to M&M and all his other friends like shit.
Blitzø’s deep and utter hatred of himself is actively preventing him from reciprocating Stolas’s genuine affection and letting him enjoy his relationships in general. And it seems like Blitzø has always been this way.
This man’s hatred runs deep, and it’s so intense he literally scribbles his face out of every photo of himself. He obviously cares about the people around him, he keeps constant reminders of the people close to him. The photo wall at home, the bobble heads of M&M in his office.
I think most people assume that this hatred of himself started with the fire. That his guilt over the accident is what led to his belief that he didn’t deserve to be happy, that ultimately destroyed his relationships. But i don’t think this is the case. I think his guilt over the accident definitely fueled his self hatred for a long time but i don’t think that’s the root cause of it.
In this scene it’s a teenage Fizzarolli’s birthday, and a teenage Blitzø appears to be going to hand him what appears to be a love letter, but upon seeing Fizzarolli surrounded by family and friends celebrating he becomes self conscious and throws the letter in the ground and walked away. I believe his internal thought process was that Fizzarolli already has all these people that care for him, why would he want Blitzø around?
I don’t believe this was cause of jealousy, that was fizzarolli’s interpretation of events from his perspective. I think this is one of the first example of Blitzø wrecking his life over his own self hatred.
And i think the most tragic part of this is that he has people in his life that definitely love him. Millie and Moxxie are his employees but they are obviously his friends and do care about his general well-being, Loona is a shit-heel most of the time but she also cares about how Blitzø’s well-being on some level. He has just re-kindled his friendship with Fizzarolli, and Stolas is so head over heals in love with him it’s insane.
Look at this man, so absolutely fucked. And Blitzø is going to be utterly incapable of reciprocating these feelings or even acknowledging that someone is capable of loving him until he actually starts accepting himself.
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