#➻ 𝐢 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐚 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐟𝐥𝐞𝐬𝐡 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐞. —《comicbookcreature.》

[pre1ude]

@comicbookcreature , sent 👫 for four headcanons about our muses' relationship.

i'm gonna do this for LBM/main verse. they're just.. on my mind <33 and at this point i'll be putting a read more on these hc posts... They get long.

1.

To start off with, combine the fact that we haven't figured out a solid meeting point for these two with my general penchant for dramatics. Consider: they try to off each other first thing. Danny's out and about around the unfortunate time Mr Big Bad Bat prowls around for a snack, and push happens to come to shove. There's something about our leather-bound posturing biker that sets Daniel's tongue on edge and his snub stings a bit too much for Michael to turn a deaf ear. One thing, then another, then the human sonar and vampire at at each other's throats. For no good reason other than 1. I just think it fits this dynamic of theirs wonderfully. 2. Daniel can canonically use his sonomancy to defibrillate someone to death, but with sound vibrations rather than electric pulses, and I'd love to see his face when that backfires because Michael does not have a working heart for him to squish. It's just.. thematic and also my favourite type of neat, tropey interaction that very quickly clues them in that they've both simultaneously fucked with the wrong guy. And no, it may not kill Mikey, but a sonic gut punch probably hurts a lot, even if you're already dead.

2.

Suffice to say it's ardent dislike at first sight. But this whole verse is the story of how Dan meets a vampire in possibly the only verse we have where he's unaware they exist. So colour him fascinated. And horribly affronted at the idea of almost becoming something as plebeian as 'a snack' to the creature. He keeps his click-clacky metal lighter handy and an eye on Michael at all times, but he ventures to explore the mysteries of the supernatural regardless, precautions at the ready. Turns out not all vampires are from the 1800s and Mikey's less of a Bela Lugosi and more of a Marlon Brando (be still his beating heart). Maybe Dan likes the motorbike. He'll never admit it and he only gets on once out of sheer necessity. Those things are dangerous and he is neither immortal nor stupid. And don't call him 'babe' unless you're cruising for a disembodied smack over the head.

3.

It takes a whole long while for them to warm up beyond snipping at each other's heels with varying levels of severity (and vitriol in Danny's case, no he doesn't catch on to Michael's flirting at all, good luck buddy). Dan can never let a jab go and oddly enough I think that helps a whole lot to push first them forward and toward communication. He asks questions, he holds Michael accountable, he doesn't turn a blind eye and most importantly he isn't afraid. He can unflinchingly match Mikey's snarling and hold his own and you bet he doesn't let the vampire walk out of a fight; sure, there's probably a certain comfort and luxury in negligent hedonism, and Daniel imagines it would be blissfully preferable to facing his own problems, but he doesn't indulge in it and refuses to let Michael do it either. Not in his presence. The city they live in is in shambles at the time and, damn it, Danny isn't sitting idle about it, so neither is Michael. It's a mostly thankless venture, but at least no progress goes unrewarded between them. Daniel's default is sweet and gentle, which is what he is when Mikey allows him to be. I can imagine quiet talks by a crackling bonfire on a calm night, indoor voices outside. A standstill in all the havoc. If trusting each other in a pinch or coming to one another's aid builds the bridge between them, then I like to think little moments of conversation between the humans behind the sonar and the vampire would be the very founding pillars. They are opposites, but they do have points of similarity at their fundamental core and that's the very human need to belong. Michael thinks that's best achieved with rampant chaos and Danny - with frigid order, together they achieve a good, solid balance. (Because yes, Danny does in fact learn to have a little bit of fun. He will begrudge Mikey the fact. One day.)

4.

In the end, Daniel likes the relationship they have. Self-indulgently, he likes having the affections of a man who doesn't give them easily, to just about anyone. He likes a puzzle and a mystery and he likes reading between the tough, growly lines. Sometimes he overindulges in it, maybe even shows off.. Listen. He likes having a frowny bulk of indomitable muscle, curls and fangs in his lap and knowing which gears to press to make it release its pressure, it feels a whole lot like he's done well by his partner. Michael wouldn't have it easy either; just like Dan consciously picked him, tough shell and all, he'd have saddled himself up with the prim proper priss who's impossible to please, with an equally as molten middle to reward his efforts. It would be a bumpy road for them both. They'll have been through a lot by then: breaks and wounds and awful revelations and brushes with death, aging and not aging, and still a sizeable chunk of caution towards anyone who isn't them, but what's love if not tough work and building it all together, brick by brick of trust? They're still harsh-lined, mean-mugged and haughty-eyed apart but so very soft together. I love them very much.

+ 1

So. Listen. Daniel can feel sound waves like a physical sensation, with its own texture and hardness and even temperature, and that very much applies to certain distinct or familiar voices. It's an odd little detail he very rarely and giddily shares, only with those curious and not in danger of offense (sometimes people sound like broken glass, he can't tell them that). The point is, Dan adores Michael's voice. It's full, textured and warm, like inverted leather or thick oldschool denim, heated by recent wear. Listening to him speak is like shoving your hand in the denim pocket of someone else's jacket, or placing it over a jean-clad thigh. Cosy, sturdy, a little bit frayed at the edges. Dan keeps an ever-growing collection of songs and music that has the exact same texture; they remind him of Michael in more than one way and he listens to them whenever he misses him. He confesses as much one darling, tipsy night far, far into their relationship and makes him dance to the slower songs of that particular playlist.

(There's a half-finished violin arrangement that captures the essence of Michael's voice shoved in a drawer somewhere and named something ridiculous and embarassing like Hymne Angelique. The only way it's ever seeing the light of day is if Michael happens to find it by accident. (Or if First Love does, since that applies to our dream verse more than this one).)