#john the vampire

[controloffandoms]

You know when you create a minor character to help a storyline form/move along...and then you start thinking about that minor character and what led them to that moment in you WIP...and then you start to write their whole backstory because why not? 

No? 

Just me?

[sniffle-elf]

So I’ve been having problems writing fanfiction lately (Sorry, inbox anons. I’m working on it, I promise!) so here’s a very short Vamp!fic thing where Gabriel works too hard, and John is exasperated with him. 

A little note here; when John says Gabriel is freezing, when vampires are feverish, their body temperature goes down, rather than up. Okay, bye! 

Gabriel has lost count of how many hours he's been sitting at his desk, the scratch of his quill against parchment the only sound aside from his near-constant sniffles. When he had sat down to work, however many hours ago, he'd dropped his chin into the palm of his right hand, elbow braced on the desk. But as the time has passed, his head has become heavier and heavier, until the only thing holding it up is his grip on his own his hair, fingers curling around bed-mussed strands like a lifeline. The candles, his usual tell for how long he's been working, have melted down enough that wax is threatening to drip onto his paperwork. But, admittedly, he hadn't quite paid attention to his valet when he came through to light them with a taper. The tea at his elbow is stone cold, and...

Wait. Tea? He doesn't remember calling for tea, and he certainly doesn't remember it arriving. That's enough to make him unfold himself from where he's hunched over his desk and set his quill down, reaching up to massage the tight muscles of his sore neck. He sniffles again, the sound of it an itchy preamble to the hitch of his breath that comes a second later.

"Hihh-!" There's a handkerchief near the cold tea, but the urge to sneeze is so sudden and intense that he doesn't waste time in trying to unfold the cloth. In fact, he barely has time to drag the cuff of his sleeve over his hand so he can press his nose to the back of his wrist, drawing his breath in a shaky inhale. "Hehhh... Heh'tchhhicheh!" He shivers and presses his nose further into the fabric of his sleeve to muffle a second, "Hk'TSSHHhh!" that makes him cough afterwards. His sigh is congested when he exhales slowly, and he reaches for the folded handkerchief to deal with the drippy sniffles that still plague him.

"God bless you," a voice comes from the shadows, and Gabriel's head spins when he lifts it quickly. Of course, there's only one person who would bless him like that, and when John steps further into his office, Gabriel manages a tired smile for him. That explains the tea, then, though not why John left it at his elbow without speaking to him. Shifting in his hard-backed chair, he drapes one arm over the top of it and leans his tired head on it. And, just like a cat, when John's fingers move to smooth down his mussed hair, he hums a hoarse note of pleasure. "Gabriel," there's a chiding note in his voice, and John sighs when his fingers brush Gabriel's forehead. "You're like ice."

"I just need to eat," Gabriel murmurs at once, hoping to alleviate any worry his lover might be feeling. He sniffles again and turns his head to rub his nose against his arm, which makes John click his tongue in disapproval. "What are you doing back, anyway? I thought you were playing chess with my father." He coughs, his voice a husky excuse of its normal timbre. John tsks again and moves to pull the throng from Gabriel's hair so he can run his fingers through it properly.

"That was hours ago, love. You've been working since just after three." His soft voice is heavily accented, enough so it comes out as 'aftah three', meaning that Gabriel's attempt to get him to stop worrying hasn't worked. He confirms this by leaning in to kiss his temple, murmuring softly against the soft hair of Gabriel's temple, "Your cold is getting worse."

The fingers in his hair make him make that same sound as before, a hoarse purr of contentment. His eyes droop until they've thinned to nothing more than slits, amber irises holding a gleam like melted silver. His eyes turn silver when his body needs blood. When he's hungry or, like now, trying desperately to fight off illness. Right now, they're still golden, but the glint that catches the light when he lifts his head suggests that this won't be the case for much longer. A more pressing matter is the renewed tickle in his nose, and he shakes the handkerchief out fully and drapes it over his steepled hands, bringing it up slowly as his breathing begins to shiver in anticipation. "H-hehh... h’EHh–ISCHhheh!" The groan that follows is rather undignified for a King, and the blow that clears some of the congestion from his head is even more so. He sighs, coughs into the cloth once he folds it, and leans his head to the side until his cheek is pressed to his folded arm.

John huffs a little and buries his fingers in Gabriel's hair again, making him purr. Until, that is, he grasps a handful of it and gives his head a gentle shake, making him squawk hoarsely in protest and lift his head to give his mate a wounded look. "You are far too stubborn, you know. I am going to send for blood for you, and you are going to eat, and then you are going to get into bed. And if I see you working again before your fever breaks, then I am personally going to hurt you." He bends until they are nose-to-nose, and Gabriel gives a quick, reflexive sniffle. He blinks, rubs his nose when John releases his hair, and blinks owlishly when he seems to take Gabriel's silence as agreement.

John is nearly out of the room when Gabriel speaks again, his voice hoarse and muffled by the cloth he's lifted to press to his runny nose once more. "Yes, General."

He can't see John's face, but his posture looks smug.

[sniffle-elf]

oc qns! 9 & 19 for the vamps

:* Merci! Sorry it took me so long! 

9. Are they a liar? Are they good at lying?Gabriel: He hates to lie outright, especially to people he cares about, but he’s very adept at glamouring people. Which is, essentially, lying to their brain and convincing them to see/hear/believe what he chooses. Thankfully he doesn’t have to glamour people often, because he doesn’t really like doing it.John: GOD no. No no no no. The only time he’s really lied, and not crumbled almost immediately, was when he had to hide his sexuality from everyone while he was living in England. Otherwise, he gets squirmy and uncomfortable when he has to bend the truth, and it’s always shockingly obvious.

19. Have they ever lost anyone close to them? How did it affect them?Gabriel: He’s been very lucky when it comes to people he loves. His grandfather was killed, but that’s really just about it. His parents are still around, and he’s never really let himself get very close to many others. John: Aside from losing the entirety of his family tree when he was stolen by the faeries for a century, he first lost Geoffry. And that killed him. For the few weeks between the camp raid that killed his lover and the fae that drew him in and glamoured him, he was a shell of a man. Barely spoke outside of what was necessary, ate barely enough to stay alive, and drank far too much to dull the pain. He still gets quiet when he thinks about his first love.

[sniffle-elf]

Making Dinner

Okay so, I wanted to write something from the Modern Vamp AU. Gabe is an art student, John listens to metal, and everything else is pretty much the same. it’s short, and stupid, and probably not as amusing as I think it is.

The loft was quiet when I got home from school. Unusually quiet. No television, no music playing, not even the incessant 'squeak-squeak-squeak' sound of Reggie running in his little wheel. It was almost too quiet. That morning, before I'd left for my classes, John had complained that he wasn't feeling well. And usually that meant camping out on the sofa with tea and nature documentaries playing on the DVR, or listening to the strange metal music that he found 'soothing', or playing some game where the goal was to shoot everyone in sight. You know, typical relaxation techniques.

"Johnny?" My voice seemed louder than usual, and I almost winced. I shed my scarf and coat, dropped my backpack, and made my way into the kitchen without removing my shoes. That was a pet peeve of John's, and it seemed he had radar for it. The wet squeak of rubber soles would surely draw him out from wherever he was if my calling to him did not. If he was, in fact, in the house. But no, no admonishment, no dirty looks, not even an exasperated sigh. Which meant either he was not at home, or...

Aha. The bedroom. There he was, curled into a ball in the very centre of our bed, the covers askew, fast asleep. His hair was a tangle of gold on the pillow, and the only colour to his face was the irritated pink rimming his nostrils. Gone were the sharp lines of his face that were normally there when he was awake; the sarcasm, the wickedness, the molten silver of his gaze when he glamoured a victim. He was softer when he slept, yet he still had the power to bring me to my knees. He was my ultimate undoing.

I sighed, smiled softly, and bent to kiss his forehead. Colder than it should have been, his skin was thankfully dry. Not feverish, then. Not terribly, anyway. He would benefit from a warm meal, a hot bath, and some pampering. I didn't have too much homework tonight, so I would be able to fuss over him at length. He would like that, I knew. He rarely said anything, but I knew how much he missed me when I was at school. It had been over sixty years since we'd left Etrania, where I'd been required to attend meetings and lessons and court. We were accustomed to being together far more often than we were now. But he didn't bring it up, because he knew I was happy with my education, and he didn't want to spoil anything. And that's why I was prepared to forgo an evening of note-taking if it meant I could make him happy when he wasn't feeling well.

I kissed him again, softly, and whispered against his cool skin, "I love you." I knew he could hear me, though he wasn't awake and I wasn't using our telepathic link. I knew he heard me because the corner of his mouth turned up, ever so slightly and just briefly before relaxing into the neutral expression of sleep. I felt my heart tighten, and I sighed as I straightened up again. He was going to be the absolute death of me.

I went back into the kitchen, pushing the sleeves of my sweater up to the elbows. Dinner first. I was hungry, and I knew that John was too. I was so hungry, in fact, that it took some self-control not to bite into the first bag I pulled from the fridge and suck it dry like a juice box. It had been a full day, and lunch had been what felt like a lifetime ago. I opened the bag and began pouring the contents into John's favourite mug to heat up. As I poured, my mind began to wander. To John. To our past. To the photography class I was taking this semester and the pretty redhead who sat beside me in said class. It was safe to say that I was a million miles away, lost in the silence of the loft.

"Huh'ESCHhihh!"

So caught up in my thoughts, I didn't hear John get out of bed or follow me into the kitchen. I didn't hear him pull a tissue from the box on the counter. I did, however, hear him sneeze loudly. Right behind me. And I reacted with all the grace a vampire could expect to possess. That is to say, I jumped half a foot, squeezed the bag I was still holding, and covered myself and half the kitchen with cold, sticky blood.

"Jesus Christ almighty!" We both uttered this in unison, for very different reasons. Me, because I had just been scared half to death. He cursed because (I can only imagine) he had just been showered with the O-positive that was meant to be his dinner. He squinted at me, one eye completely closed, and sniffled. I'm sure he would have had some choice words for me, if not for the fact that his breath was already hitching in anticipation of another sneeze. I handed him a non-bloodied tissue helpfully, and he managed to glare at me briefly before clamping it over his nose. "Hehh! Hh'ESCHheh! Hh'RrsSCHhuh!"

"God bless you! Eh... I made dinner?" I smiled hopefully at him... and ducked out of the way when he threw a wooden spoon at my head. Apparently, he wasn't feeling all that poorly.

[sniffle-elf]

Love your vampire OCs! They're precious. Gabriel - 🤒❤️🎤 John - ✨💦❄️

Thank you, Nonny! I’m glad you love them! And thank you for the things! 

Gabe

🤒: How often do they get sick? What kinds of illnesses do they tend to get most often? Colds, flu, sinus infections, stomach viruses? He gets sick alarmingly often for someone who’s supposed to have a strong constitution. If there’s a bug going around, he’ll catch it. And if it’s not going around, he’ll manage to catch it anyway. He suffers from migraines, gets sinus infections with every second or third cold he catches, and has had pneumonia twice.

❤️: What’s your absolute favorite scenario for them? It can be anything, sickness, allergies, or something else entirely! When he’s sick, and he knows he’s sick, but he keeps working anyway. Holding court while trying not to sneeze, finishing paperwork while suffering from a migraine, sniffling his way through an address to the kingdom. And then, the inevitable collapse when it gets too much for him. That is my absolute favourite scenario to put him through.

🎤: How does their voice change when they’re sick or allergies are bugging them? Does their voice get lower? Scratchy? Raspy? Can you hear any congestion in their voice or do they hide it well? Do they avoid speaking too much because of a sore throat and coughing, or do they try to talk through those things?  His voice gets heavy with congestion, all dull and thick, and it cracks a lot when he’s talking. Sometimes he loses his voice entirely, which tends to amuse John, because the idea of The Whispering Vampire King is just… funny to him. When he gets like that, he resorts to humming (which also sounds hoarse) and pointing, and making sad eyes at John until he gets cuddles.

John

✨: What would be the best way for someone to induce them? Feathers, rolled-up tissue, or something else? How much stimulation would it take for them to start sneezing? Would inducing produce just one or two sneezes from them, or multiples?Pollen, probably. Especially from the ‘Purple Monster’. The reaction he has from those flowers is immediate and intense, and if he were to get within sniffing distance of one, he would start sneezing within a minute or so, and he wouldn’t stop until the flower was gone, he’d showered, and sat in a completely separate room for awhile.

💦: How wet are their sneezes? Do they spray barely at all, or are you gonna need an umbrella? Do they try to cover at all, or just let it go? Do they sniffle a lot when they’re sick or allergies are bugging them?Wet. Not quite a shower, but you can definitely tell from listening to him that his sneezes are typically quite damp. He is the type to render a handkerchief useless after using it a few times. Due to his British Propriety, he only sneezes uncovered if it surprises him, or he’s too tired to lift his arms. He sniffles often, especially if he’s reading and not thinking about it. Gabriel has taken to wiping his nose for him when he’s lost in a book, otherwise the repetitive sound of the snifling will drive him nuts. 

❄️: Would it be more unusual to see this character sick during the winter or during the summer? Do they typically go down during cold and flu season, or do they usually get summer colds? Both? He gets sick almost every winter around Christmas, but becuase of the vampire blood, he’s weaker in the summer when the sunlight is harder to escape, so if there happens to be something going around then he will almost always catch it. He honestly can’t win, no matter what season it is.