"I was born to Darkness in the midst of a storm.”

|| Headcanon: Daniel loves movies. He really, really loves movies. He likes films by directors like Tarantino and del Toro, anything dark and gritty; and on the other hand he’s got a ridiculous soft spot and love for popular 70s and 80s films. He’d be just as happy curled up on a sofa watching From Dusk Till Dawn as watching The Breakfast Club. Time Bandits makes him cringe now though after so many repeat viewings back in the day.||

Touch | Headcanon | Ficlet

Quite simply put, he couldn’t seem to keep his hands off of him.

There was something undeniably thrilling in being able to reach out upon waking up, or to venture into the studio and slip up behind Marius, and with a mere lifting of Daniel’s hand, have skin to skin contact. Touch welcomed and unrestricted. He delighted in slipping arms around his companion’s waist and resting his head against his shoulder, in lacing their fingers together, in nestling against his side whether they were walking, or curled up together on the sofa or in bed.

He committed to memory the landscape of the older immortal’s body; the shape of collarbones, the shallows at the bends of elbows, the cool firmness of his chest beneath warmer fingertips and cheek. Daniel particularly relished those times he could coax his lover into a chair and strip him of his shirt to massage his shoulders and back, finding a quiet enjoyment in working the pale, firm flesh beneath his hands and nuzzling his face against the nape of his neck at the activity’s completion.

He’d had never known from night to night all those years ago whether his attempts at physical affections would be welcome or rebuffed by Armand, never been able to perceive a particular way to know whether or not the auburn haired vampire would open his arms in return or push him away. Immortality had not aided Daniel toward that end either, only increased the vehemence Armand would turn him away with when his attentions were unwanted.

Once when he’d persisted, he’d earned a slap for his troubles; and then Daniel had stopped trying, shaken by that as he’d grown to from every strike before it, and instead waited for his maker to initiate such interactions, which came infrequent, and in the end as the distance between them happened, stopped coming at all.

But there were no rebukes, no terse dismissals with Marius, and those gentle caresses the ancient gave to him in return had begun to steadily work like a healing balm to every touch-starved inch of his body, soothed an ache that had buried itself so deep within him that Daniel had at one time reached a point where he could no longer remember when that dull emptiness hadn’t existed, as constant as the slow and steady beat of his own heart.

Unbeknownst to either of them, it was that steadfast physical tenderness, starting with only those initial gentle hands, caring for him for so long even before the voicing of their true feelings, that had perhaps been the truest reason he’d been at last pulled him from his long stupor; each of those undemanding, guiding touches over the years coaxing Daniel from the isolation of his own mind and drawing him out of himself like sunlight unveiled from behind the clouds of a storm.

|| Headcanon: Daniel’s vocabulary is something of a mishmash due to the decades he’s from, the parts he missed while he was mentally out to lunch, and what’s modern colloquialisms. As a result he’ll sometimes interject with something that is wildly out of date. Slang known to have come out of his face in mixed company:

Sometimes he’ll explain himself. Usually there’s just uncomfortable silence. ||

|| Headcanon: Daniel loves to dance. Given a choice of what nighttime activity he most enjoys, dancing would be it. Everything from Swing, to Waltz, to Clubbing Bump N’ Grind, he loves it all. He spent a fair amount of his time growing up and also some of his spare time during immortality to practice, and he knows both how to lead and how to follow - the former because it’s expected of men, and the latter because that’s what he’s always wanted to do. ||

|| Headcanon: Daniel misses food. He actually loved food, for how sporadically and how little he was eating toward the end of his mortal life. He loves the smell of specific things for that reason; coffee, diner food, hot apple pie. He misses the sensory experience of biting into a greasy cheeseburger, crisp, hot french fries, and he’d fucking kill for the ability to have just one more chocolate milkshake.  He also had an unholy love for candy. His hometown had a candy kitchen, one he was banned from in his teens due to the anti-gay sentiment in the community, and as a result he had a raging sweet tooth all through his twenties. ||