#it was originally supposed to be a totally hidden silly thing but this angle worked really well for everyone's faces

[emcapi-gaming]

Soulmates sneaking in some chill vacation time :)

(Arkose, on the left, goes by they/them. Also, full size for better view of their top scars!)

[thegc4life]

*in Dabi voice* That so? How sad, poor little WyvernSpirit. Hawks with prosthetic legs is a concept that has haunted me too. Maybe above the ankle, but below the knee? Amputation 😔 there I said it directly. Last page of chapter 267, doesn't Hawks' leg look kinda long and weirdly detatched 'cause of the angle and being hidden behind Tokoyami's hand?

    Anonymous said:

    Continuing. Common known fact: When Wyvern gets stuck on a concept they really fall down that rabbit hole hard. - Sincerely, the anon that placed helicopter sound effects over Keigo's feetsies. (Hint: Helicopters are chop-chopping :)

--00--

Okay. OKAY. You lot! ALL of you! Do you know what you have done to me?! I have thought about this, relentlessly! I have nit, I have picked, and I have formulated plans and you have given me horrible, horrible ideas! That I am implementing now because god damn it you’ve infected me with- with the chop-chopness! All of you! 

@stitchthepaleontologynerd I haven’t gotten to your ask yet, it’s coming up boy howdy, but you’re included in this! 

How dare! How daaarrreee!

Now you get to suffer with me! Look at what you’ve done! Look at it!

(For all you lovely doves *side-eyes the wrong-doers* that are not horrible influences, if you do not want any spoilers for Hawks-sensei do not read below the cut. It is a detailing of a trauma I was planning to use but is now so much bigger, so much WORSE, and will pop up in later chapters as the same flashback styles as I’ve had already. Warnings for verbal and emotional manipulation as well as threats of physical abuse. It’s sad. You’ve been warned.)

So...

Originally planned: We all know (unless our minds were tired and blended that one little speech bubble that showed up a total of one time) that Hawks was trained in negotiation tactics, verbal manipulation, and such. Head Canon wise, in the story I was going to have it that as he grew up Hawks could, technically, ask for anything he wanted and get it but he needed to make a compelling argument for why he should be allowed to have what he asked for (hint: he often failed these until he stopped asking for things that were ‘useless’). I was going to hint at this, here and there, to do that slow build horror that is so prevalent in the Hero Commission.

And then Chop-chop happened.

So. Now there is this.

Hawks keeps failing his negotiation training outside of training scenarios. His trainers and the President wanted him to keep asking for things so that he could learn how to manipulate and negotiate at the drop of a hat. But whenever he asked for things it was always ‘silly little things’ like going outside for a bit to fly, or to get something that actually tasted good instead of all gross food he was served for every meal, or to be able to take his Endeavour doll with him to training so that it could watch on and give him encouragement.

You know. Silly things.

He always failed these because he could not come up with a strong enough argument for why he should be allowed to do these things.

So they got... a little mean.

Longer training hours. He was always given the choice of not staying later than usual, so long as he could provide a ‘valid’ argument to his trainers why he didn’t need to work harder. ‘I managed that new aerial trick three times in a row with no mistakes’ he would say. ‘Yes, but you messed up the other one halfway through’ they would say. And he would tell them that it was new, of course he didn’t get it down right away. And they would say, ‘exactly, so we need to train more.’

Eventually, Hawks would get to the point where he would say ‘I need to be able to stretch my body in a certain way to make that move. I should go to my room and practice stretching like that. I will have it perfected next time.’

And they praise him for good thinking and say ‘yes, Hawks, that is a good idea’ and he gets all happy because Praise, and he goes from training with them... to training in his room as though he managed to convince them of anything.

He makes progress. He gets better at speaking, and manipulating, and redirecting. But not fast enough. Not good enough.

So they step it up a bit.

“Your feet’ they tell him. They are unnatural. They affect how you walk, how you stand, they look odd and lethal. He is supposed to be a comforting figure, he can’t be like that if he as talons that could rip off someone’s arm.

They’ll just have to go.

Hawks, understandably, freaks the fuck out. He doesn’t want to have his talons surgically removed. To have his feet braced and wrapped until they were re-formed into a ‘normal’ foot. To have anything they were telling him.

He argues with his trainers. Screams at them for the first time in the two years (because yes, he is still very young) he’s been here. He leaves without permission. Goes to his room. Screams and shakes and holds his Endeavour plush while praying the real thing will come save him.

In comes the President.

‘Hawks,’ she says, long after he has exhausted himself and is just staring blankly at the wall. ‘I heard what happened. You don’t want the surgery, do you?”

And of course he doesn’t, who would want that?

“I understand’ she says, and Hawks believes her because she always seems to understand more than he does but he doesn’t want her to this time because when she understands him she makes him understand her.

Which is exactly what she does.

She tells him why she thinks it is a good idea to get the surgery. While he is exhausted, empty, and numb she tells him all the horrible things in the world people see and how his feet might seem scary. She gives statements, but they seem... weak? They are less substantial than usual.

“The surgery will be next week,” she tells him and he breaks and he breaks and he breaks.

“Unless.”

Unless he can convince them otherwise. Unless he can negotiate. Manipulate. Make them see things his way.

“I want you to be happy, Hawks,’ she tells him, using the pads of her fingers to brush his hair out of his face before she goes and he leans into the warmth and wants, wants, wants. “If you think there is a different way, that there is something that should be done differently, all you have to do is tell us. You’re a smart boy. If you really think your feet are fine as they are, then there must be a reason they’re like that right? You just have to tell us what it is.”

So he tries.

Day one, he fails. They take x-rays of his feet for the doctors to look at while they prepare. ‘I’ll never walk the same’ isn’t a good enough reason when they have specialized physical therapists there to make sure that he will.

Day two, he fails. His handler tells him the time he was scheduled for. Early in the morning, right after he wakes up. “It will slow down my training,” isn’t good enough either. ‘you’re a fast learner’ is praise he always wanted before, and now all it is is a bullet in his lungs.

Day three, he fails. They use a practice dummy to help teach him how he is going to have to wrap his feet when everyone else is too busy to help him. “It’s going to hurt” and “I’m scared” are not the reasons of a hero. He’ll get over it.

Day four, he fails. No one brings it up that day. There is an entry on his calendar though. Circled. Blatant. He doesn’t argue that day. He doesn’t know what to say.

Day five, he fails. He asks his trainers if there is any way for him to use his feet, as they are, as a hero. They tell him they have never worked with avian based quirks before, how could they possibly know if his talons would be useful? He snapped at them, saying they did just fine telling him how to use his feathers when no one else in the world had the same quirk as he did. He had to do extra laps that day, until he was too tired to argue anymore.

Day six, the day before the surgery, the President comes to visit him again. He stayed up all night, even with how exhausted he had been, because this was his last chance.

“I can keep them covered,” he tells her. Tells the room. The faces that hold the decision in their hands. “I have to wear shoes outside anyway, it’s easy to keep them covered. They help me balance in ways most people can’t. It makes me a better fighter. If I run out of feathers, I will still have a weapon. A last resort. I can learn to walk normal. It will be easier to learn with feet I am used to then ones created for me. My toes are flexible and strong. If I train them I can use them in emergency situations to save more people. What if my arms are broken? My feathers gone? I can still use my feet to evacuate people.”

More, and more he talks. He tells them everything he can possibly think of that make his feet an advantage instead of an anomaly. He doesn't’ say ‘I like them’ or that he likes to curl his toes around the bottom bars of his bed when he has a nightmare. He doesn’t tell them that he likes the feeling of the tiles beneath his talons as they ‘click, click’ when he walks. He doesn’t tell them that they help him perch and that he’s afraid if they take them he won’t be able to do that anymore and he doesn’t know if he could handle losing that too.

His trainers look thoughtful. His handler is nodding.

The President smiles.

After everyone has left she gives him a hug. It’s small, and stiff, but he feels like crying.

“I am proud of you, Hawks,” she tells him. “Keep this up.”

And when they talk about his hands, he wins. When they talk about his staring he doesn’t... he doesn't win but he gets a compromise. A visor, to hide his eyes. When they talk about his sharp teeth, he almost loses but then he wins and the President smiles at him again. She doesn't’ hug him, that time, but he’s too old for that now so it’s okay.

When he’s sixteen, he knows he’s gotten really good at it. Because they try to take his Endeavour doll away. And it makes sense, because it’s- it’s a toy. Of course he doesn’t need it when he’s sixteen. He’s surprised they hadn’t tried to take it sooner. But he’d prepared for this, he knew his trainers and his handler well by then and he talked circles around them until they forgot what they asked in the first place. He got them refocused on training, on stats, on preparations and then he made sure it was always out of sight so they never brought it up again.

The President asked him, once, if he still had it. He shrugged, asked about how his results in his last combat simulation were, and she had looked so unimpressed that he knew she had known. But she hadn’t said anything. Because most of the time, if he managed to convince everyone else, she would let him keep something.

And he was grateful.

--00--

Look what you monsters have done. T-T I hope you’re happy! 

Seriously though, you guys just love giving me the angst thoughts. Like, dang. I love and hate it. I still love YOU of course, but I hate the evil thoughts you give me! Please continue! But don’t!

[ours-is-feral-love]

Red Sand

A/N: And . . . another one. Really couldn’t get this idea out of my head. [SPOILERS if you’ve not finished the show!]

Enjoy.

Summary: Alyssa sneaks into the hospital where James is being held following his capture. [T for language ] [Word Count: 2,621] [Alyssa’s POV]

I look the police officer over carefully from where I sit, watching his heavy eyelids droop over his evil eyes. He shouldn’t be too hard to fool. He looks like quite an idiot.

Nurses and doctors pass by on a continual loop, each of them shooting nervous glances at the doorway behind the drowsy PC. I want to tell them all to fuck off. I want to shout it really, really loudly. Scream it until I can’t speak anymore. Until there’s blood coming out of my mouth. But I stop myself. Making a scene won’t do me any good. No one can know I am here. Mum thinks I’m tucked underneath my duvet like some fucking caterpillar waiting to become a butterfly.

They’re scared of him. They’re all terrified he’s going to escape his restraints and slaughter them as if he is a psychotic serial killer.

Pussies. Each and every one of them.

None of them know who he is. They don’t know what really happened that night. They think they do because of the shitty news coverage, but the media is full of liars and money-loving fakes. And a story about an unhinged boy on a crime spree sneaking into a rapist’s house intending to murder said rapist sells better than the truth. That James only killed him to protect me.

He’s a hero. He deserves a medal, not shackles. Not a bullet hole in his left arm.

I heard on the BBC they had to give him blood transfusions because of how much of his own supply he lost on the beach. Because the bullet that hit him snagged an artery on its way out.

It’s been nearly a week, and I’ve unintentionally blocked that day from my memories, but I remember that bit. I hear that final gunshot as I sit staring at the sleeping officer and I see James go down as if it’s happening all over again. He sprawls on the ground, arms and legs at strange angles. I’m still screeching his name, but he isn’t moving. And there’s red. It’s everywhere, spilling over the wet sand . . .

I close my eyes before I lose my shit in the middle of the hospital. I breathe in a shaky breath, clutching the seat of the uncomfortable chair I am occupying near James’ room. The scratchy vinyl feels gross, but the cracks in the material scrape my palms and the pain is somehow soothing.

I think I've always needed a little bit of pain to get me through the day. It's why I put up with Tony for so long. Why I let my mum talk down to me like I was the most massive disappointment. Of course, I'm suffering a lot more than I'm used to at the moment. General teenage angst seems to have not prepared me for a situation like this. A situation that involves the boy you love being shot and then shackled to a hospital bed.

I am so lost right now.

But I know if I could see him, just for a second, that everything would fall back into place. I won't be so lost when I get past that snoozing guard.

I open my eyes and get to my feet. It's time for some fucking action. I pinch my cheeks, slouch my shoulders, and push my bottom lip out. Satisfied that I look like someone in need of some help, I approach the policeman.

I poke him hard on the arm. He jerks awake, and for a moment I just want to slap him. Bring him to the ground and beat the shit out of him. But I manage to hold myself back.

The man's bulging eyes look me up and down. His face softens.

It is this moment I am outrageously glad my parents’ genes mixed in just the right way to make me look like a fucking twelve-year-old.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" he asks in that voice my mum uses when she's talking to the twins.

Ugh. The desire to punch him comes over me again. He's even more fucking disgusting than I thought.

“Some—someone stole my bag." I sniffle, watching the geezer before me take on a hardened look of determination. "It had a present for my mum in it."

"Okay, darling. Which way did he go?" He reaches out for my hand, but I quickly use that one to point behind me.

No way do I want this old creep touching me.

"That way. I think I saw him going down the stairs. He's probably not even here anymore." I put my face in my hands and pretend to cry. I make ugly noises for added effect.

Maybe I should be a fucking actor when I grow up. Do they let criminals on TV?

"Don't cry," he says. "Don't cry. Look. I can't leave this spot, but I can ask a nurse to take you down to the security desk and they can help find your bag. Okay?"

Not okay. So not okay.

I remove my hands, frowning. "I need to find it now! My mum is dying of fucking cancer and you can't be a decent enough policeman to help me get back the present I bought for her with literally all of my fucking money? What if she dies in the time it takes for me to go down and start explaining this shit show to someone else?"

Gotcha.

The officer's face is wide. His mouth hangs open. His saucepan eyes swerve around the room, making sure no one is watching us.

"Okay," he says in an angry, hushed tone. "Okay, I'll see what I can do. What did the man look like?"

He stands up, straightening the weapons belt around his hips.

"Tall. Dark eyes, brown hair. Wearing a dark grey sweater with blue jeans and black snazzy shoes. Tan. Probably forty or so," I say. It’s Tony’s description. Maybe he’ll be walking down the street when the PC comes along. 

Turning as the policeman does, my back is now to the door. 

I can practically feel James.

My heart thumps wildly in anticipation. It hurts. I can't breathe.

"Alright." He motions to the seat at the back of my knees. "Stay here. Make sure no one goes inside."

"Why?" I ask as he starts walking away. "What's behind the door?"

"A monster," he says.

That's it. If I see him again, I'm definitely punching him.

I nod in agreement to his request, staring after him as he disappears round a corner.

This is it. I turn towards the room and shove the chair out of the way, moving close enough to the door that I can smell the wood. I reach for the handle. It’s cold, but unlocked. Twisting slowly, my eyes darting left and right, praying to the countless number of deities I’ve heard of throughout my whole life that I won’t get caught, I hear a click and the door falls inward. I go with it, pressed to the wood, and sneak inside the room.

I actually gasp. Like a fucking cartoon or something. The door closes softly behind me. I look around the room. There are wires and machines everywhere. Beeping noises collapse against my eardrums.

A heartbeat. James’ heartbeat.

And there he is. Right in front of me, asleep, looking sickly and pale and like he hasn’t properly showered in a few days. His arm is in a sling. He is connected to a saline drip through an IV via his uninjured arm. He is cuffed, too. To the side of the bed. There is a metal handcuff around his thin wrist.

God, I am so fucked off. I want to go at the restraint with a chainsaw.

Looking at him makes me want to cry. It always has. Ever since we first met. But right now, I really want to cry. More badly than I have ever wanted to before.

But I shouldn’t. I can’t. I need to be strong for him.

Swallowing the giant cricket ball forming in my oesophagus, I creep on my tiptoes towards the giant hospital bed. He looks even worse close up. There’s a dark shadow over the bottom half of his face. Deep purple bags lie underneath his closed eyes.

I’m too far gone. I can’t stop the tears. They crawl down my cheeks, slip past my chin, and land on the grey-blue blanket covering James’ body. One, as I move my head to get a better look at his face, drips over his eyelids.

He comes awake. The beeping grows quicker. I swear my lungs have stopped working. Reaching out, I place my hand over his mouth as his eyes snap open. His jaw parts. Hidden behind my palm, I feel his heavy breaths bathe my skin.

“Shh,” I warn, breathless. “I’m not supposed to be here. We don’t have much time.”

He shakes his head and I lift my hand. “You need to leave,” he says. It comes out all croaky and dry. He’s broken.

It makes me so angry. If he had just let me come with him, none of this shit would be happening.

If only I hadn’t been silly enough to believe my dad was a decent fucking human being, we would be in Switzerland by now, hiding in a bakery or skiing down some snow-capped mountain.

“I’m staying,” I say defiantly. He can’t tell me what to do.

He starts to sit up, but the effort exhausts him and he quickly lies back down. His brilliant eyes—the most beautiful things I’ve literally ever seen—gaze up at me. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

To be honest, I don’t want to see him like this. But I hold off on telling him that. “I don’t care what you look like. I don’t care that you’re handcuffed. James,” I say, the tears forming again. I reach for his chained hand. His fingers are sweaty, but he holds onto me regardless, entwining our fingers. I could collapse in a heap of despair like those women in the 19th century used to. “What’s gonna happen to you?”

“I’m not sure,” he says.

The words come out thin and brittle. I think there’s a cricket ball in his throat too. With my spare hand, I grab the cup of water by his bed and slowly, like he’s a baby, I tip the cup towards his mouth. He swallows a couple of gulps and coughs away any excess dryness. He mutters a thanks and I return the cup to its original spot.

“They’re keeping me here until my arm heals a bit more,” he says. “And then I’ll be moved to a jail to await trial. Then I’ll be prosecuted.”

He says it with such indifference that I find myself wanting to take him by the shoulders and shake him viciously.

“How can you be okay with this?” I ask, my face hot and wet. My lips tremble. My forehead hurts from frowning. “None of this is okay. None at all. It’s a giant mess—a total miscarriage of justice.”

I’ve been watching a lot of that American TV show Law and Order while under house arrest.

The longer I stare frustratedly at James half-lying down on his hospital bed, the blurrier he gets. But I blink rapidly, clearing my vision, when his face bunches. He's crying too. Not as much as me, but there's a small tear trolling down his scruffy face. Instinct compels me to wipe it away. I scrape at it with my thumb and hold my hand against his warm cheek. He presses into me, nostrils billowing like a curtain caught by the wind.

Okay. So, he isn't okay with this.

"I'm sorry," I say, rubbing the tear back into his skin. "I know you're just trying to be brave."

"I just," he says, "want to be with you."

My heart is going to explode. Is it possible for words to kill you?

"And I know that when they put me away, I'm not going to be able to be with you anymore," he continues, the words vibrating. "I don't want that to happen."

Fuck. Neither do I.

"I'll come see you," I promise. "And when you get out, we can be together again." My knees are starting to buckle under all the pressure. I hold tight to James. "Maybe we can get married . . . and then I'd get those conjugal visit things."

It's a joke. Mum would sooner disown me and throw me in the streets than allow me to marry a convicted felon.

But it does make James laugh. And that makes me smile. And some of that pressure lifts away.

"You would visit me?" he asks, and I sense the genuine worry.

"Yes. Fuck, I'd be in there with you if I could." If you'd let me. “Can I lie down?”

“What?”

“In the bed with you,” I say. “Just for a minute.” The guard’ll be on his way back soon. I’ll need to set off before then. But I need to lie with him. To feel his body against mine one last time before he’s taken away from me.

“I don’t know how easy it will be.” James looks to his shackled wrist and then to his bullet-hole-ridden arm.

I start climbing in, kicking my sandals off and bunching up the yellow sundress Mum got me when I was released from hospital the day James got captured. I wore it so she would let me out of the house. How long does she think it takes to pick up chocolate from the Co-op?

James can’t move a lot, but he slides over to make room for me. Lying on my side, pressing my hand flat against his chest, I rest my head on his shoulder. We sigh together. A sound of true contentment.

As much as he can, James holds me. His shackled fingers bend and move over the skin of my neck. I shiver into his hospital gown. For someone who looks so horrible, he smells just the same as always. Like lavender soap. I breathe him in, forcing myself to memorise the scent.

“You changed your hair,” he notes, fiddling with the short strands that just barely reach my neck.

“Mum took me to the salon immediately,” I say. Guess she wasn’t all that fucking pleased about the blond. “The woman made it too dark. I don’t like it.”

“Well, I do,” James says.

I smile into his neck.

I shouldn’t be happy at all. Things are about to get a whole lot worse for the both of us. But he’s touching me and I’m touching him, and everything just feels . . . right. I know it’ll be gone the instant I leave this room, but I will revel in it for the few minutes I have.

“You shouldn’t have come,” James says.

I lift myself up. Our faces are only a few centimetres apart. His breaths wash over my face. “Why?” I ask, confused and hurt.

James continues stroking every piece of available skin. “Now that you’re here, I don’t want you to leave.”

Oh.

“I don’t want to leave,” I tell him.

“But you have to.”

“But I have to,” I agree. “But not yet. In a minute.”

I have to kiss him. I have to remember the feel of his mouth on mine.

Lowering my face the tiniest bit, I close my eyes and affix my lips to his. He can’t properly embrace me, and I can’t move too much for fear of further injuring him, but he is soft against me and that’s all that matters.

I was wrong before. Now everything is right. The seas have calmed. The earth has stopped turning. And it’s James and me against the world.

[chocobroobsession]

Just a Taste

Author’s Note: In honor of Friday the 13th and the Halloween season, I give you, Vampire!Ignis! I know, I’m not the first to think of it, nor will I be the last, but this is just my smutty take on it. Vampires are my favorite mythical creatures, after all, and Ignis is my favorite chocobro, so it was inevitable. Think of this as a Monster AU. There are mentions of the other guys as well, along with what creatures they are..but it’s mainly a vampire!Ignis x fem!reader fic. Word count: 8930. BTW, I guess a trigger warning would be blood? Not blood play, just...vampire feeding, I guess...

You hadn’t seen Ignis Scientia in months. One day he was at work, and the next day he wasn’t. Your boss explained that Prince Noctis had some urgent business to attend to outside of Insomnia and his advisor, shield, and best friend were to accompany him. No one was sure just how long the group would be absent, but the King of Lucis was adamant that the Prince was well taken care of and that the business they had was important and that they would all return safely in time. As suspicious as it seemed, you had no reason to question your king, and so you had no choice but to move forward.

You had worked in the Citadel since graduation. You were one of the junior members of the Council, training up to be a full-fledged member in a few years. This meant that you crossed paths with the Prince’s advisor quite often, seeing as how he attended most Council meetings in his charge’s place. You had initially just exchanged pleasantries, but eventually, the two of you struck up a friendship. Ignis was intelligent, handsome, and witty, but most only saw him as the stoic glorified nanny to Prince Noctis. You, however, always knew better. He easily (and most likely unintentionally) charmed you with his intellect and humor, and you counted yourself one of the few to be on the receiving end of his heart-melting smiles. And his eyes…oh, Astrals, his eyes! Those emerald pools could drown you with one look, but the way they reflected such joy when he spoke to you or smiled at you…you were a goner.

Ignis kept his private life, well, private, and so you never knew if he actually already had a significant other, but that didn’t stop you from dreaming that one day you could be lucky enough to be on the receiving end of his affections. Just when you had finally worked up the nerve to confess your feelings to him, he vanished. All courage went down the drain then, and heartbroken, you resumed your normal life of work, dreaming of the day you would see Ignis again, hoping that you’d have the chance to try again.

So when he randomly showed up at your door one night, you couldn’t help but be completely shocked and totally smitten with him all over again. You had been curled up on your couch, engrossed in a fantasy novel when the doorbell chimed. One look at the clock on the wall to your left told you this was no ordinary visitor. No one, salesperson, chocobo scout, or friend dropping by your part of town, would ever show up at such a late hour. You cautiously snuck to the doorway to peer through the peephole. You could barely make out a tall, lanky shape standing just on the edge of the light cast out by your porch light. Your hand automatically reached for the baseball bat you had propped up against your umbrella stand. You hadn’t played ball in years, but your dad had always suggested you keep it handy in case of an unwanted visitor. The door stayed locked whether you were home or away, so you knew this visitor couldn’t easily force their way in. You hesitantly called out, “Who’s there?”

You saw the visitor flinch at the sound of your voice. “Y/N?” they questioned, before quickly clamping a hand over their mouth. Before they could turn to go, you quickly unlatched the door and threw it open. You knew that voice instantly and all fears were cast aside the moment it pricked your ears. “Ignis!?”

He froze. He had been in the process of turning around, as if to flee quickly before you stopped him dead in his tracks. You couldn’t believe it. It had been months since you saw him, and yet here he stood at your very door. You let your excitement cloud your sense of judgment initially before reason finally caught up to you. You had started to step across the threshold, one arm outstretched towards the man when you stopped. “Wait. Ignis, why are you here? Aren’t you supposed to be away on business with Prince Noctis? Or did you just come back?” So many questions swam around in your mind as you gaped at the man hidden in the shadows. It finally hit you that something was off about him, and fear gripped you, causing your flesh to break out into goose bumps and the hairs on the back of your neck to stand on end. Something about this situation was very, very wrong.

Ignis remained in the shadows, but turned his body to face you. You could make out his face, but only just so. It was definitely him, but something seemed different, though you weren’t sure how. He was dressed in his typical black pants, boots, and purple dress shirt, sleeves rolled up to his elbows. His usual driving gloves were absent, and you couldn’t stop yourself from admiring the veins and muscles in his hands and forearms as he brought one hand up to rub at his forehead.

“Y/N, I apologize. I thought this house belonged to someone else. I’m so sorry I disturbed you. I’ll just be on my way,” he wearily explained before turning away from you once more.

“Wait!” You lunged at him then, ignoring every red flag that your brain threw at you, and wrapped your fingers around his wrist. Though you had never really touched him before, any accidental brushes or bumps against him were always warm and welcomed. His wrist, however, was like ice despite the hot summer night. You gasped and quickly released your grip, taking a step back into the light of your porch. Something wasn’t right. “Ignis, what’s wrong? What happened to you? Why are you here?” Your heart was racing. Adrenaline was commanding you to run back in the house but something else was keeping you rooted to the spot. Was that curiosity or just plain stupidity? You weren’t really sure at the moment, but you were confused. You were in love with this man, but why should he suddenly be here, right in front of you?

Ignis hesitated; he considered fleeing as he originally intended once he realized gravity of the situation he had accidentally put himself in, but he had always cared about you, and even though your wellbeing depended on him leaving, he didn’t want it to end like this. He felt he owed you a bit of an explanation.  He sighed and angled towards you yet again. Gods, you were still as beautiful as he remembered. You hadn’t changed at all in the months he had been away. Even standing there, unsure of yourself, questions swimming in your eyes, clad in sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt, you were as radiant as ever and it killed him to think about what he was almost willing to do to you. There was no way he was going to subject you to that, now that he realized this was your residence. It was one thing to do this to a complete stranger. There was no way he would go through with this with someone he knew, especially someone he had been pining after. Remaining in the shadows, he inhaled deeply before asking, “How long have you resided in this house? As I seem to recall, you had an apartment closer to the Citadel, did you not?”

Right. You just moved in a month ago. It was silly of you to think that he was here specifically to visit you. He was gone before you even got the house. He had no way of knowing. “Yeah, I did, but when my aunt passed away nearly two months ago, she left me her house. I’ve only been here about a month. But she had lived here for years. Did you plan on visiting her? She was a florist…what business would you or the Prince, for that matter, have with a simple florist?”

Ignis knew there was no way he would be able to truly talk his way out of this. You were too sharp. That and he didn’t relish the thought of having to lie to you or manipulate your mind. He was up to his armpits in secrets these days, and frankly he was sick of it all. Conflicted as he was, perhaps he could be honest with you without you laughing in his face or trying to murder him. He knew your father had insisted you keep a baseball bat by the door for your safety, and though it wouldn’t do much good to beat him with it, he didn’t particularly want to be bludgeoned that night. Throwing all caution to the wind, he decided to give you a taste of the truth.

“Truth be told, Y/N, I didn’t know who’s house this was. I was in need of something and this was the first house I happened to come across. I offer my condolences, by the way. As I recall, you always spoke highly of your aunt and the two of you were very close. She was still rather young, however, wasn’t she?” He hadn’t realized how long it had been since he saw you last, but being in your presence was relaxing. He had missed you—your smile, the sound of your voice, the way you always stood with one hip pushed out to the side, your arms folded across your chest like you had an attitude. He wanted to draw this conversation out as long as possible before arriving at the inevitable.

You looked away, suddenly filled with emotion. You hastily wiped a stray tear away before answering. “Yeah, my aunt was my best friend. She found out she had cancer. The doctors did everything they could, but it was already at such an advanced stage when she found out. She never married nor had any kids, so she willed everything to me. I spent so much time over here growing up, I couldn’t part with it, and so I moved in. At least she’s not in pain anymore.”

“I’m sorry,” Ignis whispered. He wanted so badly to hold you, but he didn’t want to tempt himself, especially when he was so thirsty. He couldn’t bare it if he lost control for one moment.

You were temporarily distracted by memories of your aunt, but you realized something about Ignis’s story didn’t make sense. “Wait, you said you were in need of something. Ignis, are you in trouble? Can I help you? Why don’t you just come—“

“No!” he practically yelled. You flinched at his outburst. You had started to invite him in, but that was the last thing he needed. It would be all too tempting to give into his thirst in such a confined space with you. Ignis cleared his throat and spoke softly this time. “That won’t be necessary. I do not wish to intrude, especially at such a late hour. My problem will resolve itself in due time. I made an error in coming here tonight and as much as I would love to stay and catch up, I really must be going.” He was having second thoughts. There was no way he could confide in you. He cared too much about you and his thirst was growing by the minute. This whole night had been nothing but one blunder after another.

Something was definitely off. Ignis had always had an accent unlike any others you had heard, and you were easily wooed by his voice. The more he talked, however, the more it sounded like he had something in his mouth, interfering with his speech slightly. And the whole time the two of you had been standing outside, he had kept his face in the shadows, as if he was trying to conceal himself from you. Your imagination was running out of control, and yet, your flight or fight instincts were kicking in. But this was Ignis Scientia. The most brilliant man you had ever encountered. The Prince’s advisor and friend. A master strategist. What did you have to fear?

You took a step back, completely bathed in the yellow glow radiating from your porch. “Step into the light,” you dared him. Surely your mind was playing tricks on you.

As much as Ignis hated himself, he couldn’t just walk away from you. Obeying your command, he stepped forward, allowing the condemning light to wash over him as he looked you dead in the eye. You gasped aloud, taking another step backwards towards your house. He looked the same as he always did, only somehow paler, as if he hadn’t seen the sun in the entire time he was away. The green eyes you were so in love with were absent, and instead eyes black as obsidian stared back at you. He possessed hungry eyes, but not hungry with lust—the true hunger of a predator. “Ignis?”

“I told you this was a mistake,” he whispered. As he spoke, you caught a glimpse of his teeth. Fangs were present where his canine teeth used to be. This was impossible. You were tired. You had been reading a lot of fantasy novels lately. This was just your mind playing tricks on you. Right?

“This is crazy. You can’t really be…” you shook your head incredulously.

“Be what?” he raised one eyebrow. As impossible as it seemed, he was in your place four and a half months ago. He had no idea such a world existed within his own until everything went spiraling out of control. “Just say what you’re thinking. Please,” he begged. As much as it pained him, a piece of him just wanted someone to know the truth about him.

“A vampire?” You were almost too ashamed to say it. It seemed so ridiculous, and yet, you had no alternative explanation to offer.

“And we have a winner,” Ignis humorlessly laughed. “This is the part where you either run back into your house, lock the door, and pray to the Astrals for your protection, or you tell yourself you’re hallucinating or sleepwalking and you go back inside and pretend none of this ever happened. I wouldn’t blame you, either way. Both responses seem rather reasonable. I apologize for involving you in this at all. I never wished to hurt you. If you want, I could even glamour you into forgetting this entire exchange. The choice is yours, you know.”

You were speechless.  This couldn’t be happening. This wasn’t real. Had it been anyone else, you’d say it was a nightmare, but this was Ignis Scientia. The man you had harbored a crush on for over two years. As much as your logic screamed for you to get a grip on yourself, you almost couldn’t deal with the situation. Part of you wanted to laugh it off, and part of you wanted to break into a fit of hysterics. When you opened your mouth, even you didn’t know what was going to come forth.

“Oh, so you really are a vampire? And next you’re going to tell me that I don’t really know the world that I live in. There’s a whole other world out there within our own. A world full of monsters! Vampires exist! And so do other creatures!” Yep, hysteria won out. And yet you were trying to quell it with your sarcasm. Smooth move.

“Are you making fun of me?” Ignis questioned. He wasn’t really sure what reaction to expect from you, but it wasn’t this. You had always been sarcastic, but he had a feeling you were still processing this information and trying to reason with yourself.

“Me? Make fun of a vampire? No, why would I be stupid enough to do that?” You shrugged, the hysteria slowly building, causing your voice to go an octave higher. “What next? You’re going to tell me that Gladio is a werewolf and Prompto is…what, part of the Fae?” you nervously laughed.

If Ignis had the ability to blanch, he would have done so then. Instead, his eyes widened as he stared at you. For someone who couldn’t get a grip on the situation, you were surprisingly accurate in your assumptions.

You took his silence as confirmation of your suspicions. You weren’t even sure if you meant what you said, but it came out all the same. “Wait…you mean to tell me that I’m right? Does that mean more people I know are…not actual people? Oh Astrals, this is too much…” You lost it then. You became uneasy, swaying on the spot. You would have crumpled to the ground had Ignis not stepped forward and caught you, gently lowering you to sit on the porch, propping you up against one of the posts.

“That’s the type of reaction I would expect from someone who just learned about this,” he shook his head and peered down at you, pity in his blackened eyes. You looked up at him, blinking, trying to make sense of the situation.

“So you really are a vampire?” you dared to ask.

“Yes, Y/N, I really am a vampire,” he grimaced.

“Have you always been?”

“No.”

“That’s what I figured. Is that really why you went away?”

“Yes. Part of the reason, anyway.”

You had so many other questions, but you didn’t know where to begin. Before you had time to ponder the situation further, Ignis suddenly spoke up. “You really should get back inside, Y/N. It’s late. I’m sure you have work tomorrow. I’d help you in myself, but I don’t think it wise. I’ve already done enough damage for one night and I don’t wish to subject you to more. Goodnight.”

“Wait! Please don’t go Ignis,” you practically begged. He hated hearing that tone from you. He didn’t wish to cause you any more distress than he already had, but there was a hurt in that voice that he couldn’t shake.

You thought a moment before everything clicked. Though you weren’t sure if any of the vampire lore you had been exposed to through literature had any truth to it, it was all you had to work with for the time being. “You can’t come in because I haven’t invited you. Is that it? That’s why you cut me off earlier when I started to ask you?”

Ignis dropped his gaze to the ground and his shoulders drooped downwards. “Yes, that is correct.”

“But why didn’t you want me to invite you in? What’s wrong with that? Especially now that I already know what you are?”

“All the more reason for you not to invite me in. At least you can rest assured that you are safe within the confines of your own home. No vampire may set foot over the threshold as long as you do not invite them in.”

You mulled over the information before speaking again. “But if you wanted to attack me, you would have done so already, correct?”

“Yes, but outside, there are other smells to distract me and to dilute yours. Inside, however…” he trailed off, not wishing to finish his thought.

“Oh.” Right. Inside the house, it would reek of your scent. And he’d be in a confined space with you. And based on what he said, he was a new vampire. Perhaps he didn’t have practiced control just yet. Still, as much as your sense of self-preservation begged you to run, the rest of you had other ideas.

“I don’t think you want to hurt me, Ignis,” you confidently declared.

“True, I do not wish to harm you,” he answered cautiously.

“So I don’t think you will, no matter how high the temptation.”

“I must say, I do not like where this is going. Perhaps this episode has caused a lapse in your judgment.”

“Perhaps,” you reasoned. “But all the same, I want an explanation. Please tell me what’s going on with you. I thought we were friends?” There were those feelings again. You never let go of liking him, and even though you should be afraid, you still wanted this man.

Ignis let out an exasperated breath. “Yes, we were friends, though I don’t see why you would wish to remain as such with the likes of me now, knowing what I have become.”

“Come inside with me. Talk to me,” you whispered.

Ignis couldn’t resist your request. Even with Noctis, Gladio, and Prompto around, he still felt quite alone throughout this entire ordeal. His desire for companionship outweighed his desire for blood at the moment, so he took you up on your offer. He offered you a hand and helped you up off the porch before leading you back inside.

Once you shut the door behind you, you grabbed his hand and led him over to the couch. The two of you sat, turning sideways, facing each other. You gestured towards him. “Tell me what happened. How you became this way.”

Ignis stared at you with pleading eyes, hoping you would understand what he had been through. What effort it cost him just to be in that room with you. Confined to that couch, staring at your pulsing veins, inhaling the perfume of your skin, resisting everything that he was in that moment. “Like you, I was unaware that such a world existed within our own. I did not learn of it until a few months back, when the incident occurred.”

He paused, checking to make sure you were still interested. You sat perfectly still, staring at him with questions in your eyes. “I didn’t know that the Amicitia bloodline consisted of a long line of werewolves. They had made a pact with the Lucian royal bloodline many, many years ago. They swore to protect them as their shields. Werewolves in their human form are larger and stronger than most humans, which makes them such better protectors than most. It made sense. The royal bloodline has their own natural magical abilities, so even though they are human, they are a step above the rest. Having werewolves on their side was quite an advantage.

“Vampires have never been part of the royal court. Niflheim has vampires within their own ranks, and so most of their kind, well, my kind, do not care for the Lucians. Other world politics still do not make sense to me. I still have much to learn, but that’s beside the point. Vampires are natural enemies of the werewolves, so that was another advantage to having them as shields in Lucis. One night, Gladio was set to guard Noctis at his apartment. King Regis never liked Noctis living outside of the Citadel, but he respected his son’s wishes to be more independent. That’s why Gladio was never too far away. But that particular night, Gladio became very ill and had to rush back to the Amicitia home. Iris was supposed to take his watch that night, but a vampire came and overpowered her. He kidnapped Noctis and made his way over the wall of Insomnia.”

You were completely invested in this story, despite knowing that the ending wasn’t going to be pleasant. “So what happened next?”

Ignis gulped. “I never knew about the Amicitias being what they were. Imagine my surprise when I made my way to Noct’s apartment only to find a young werewolf passed out inside and the place completely trashed. I summoned my daggers right away to do away with the beast, thinking it was just some overgrown wolf but it looked at me and then transformed into a battered Iris. I stood there in shock as she wheezed and tried to explain to me what happened. I didn’t have time to be horrified by what I was learning. I had to go after Noctis. I called Clarus as I made my way to the edge of the city. I drove out of the gates and must have gone many miles before getting out of my car and going out on foot.”

“How did you know where to go?” you wondered aloud.

“I didn’t. I just went into the situation blindly. I did not know a thing about tracking. I had no way of knowing where they were. I found some woods and stumbled around in there for hours in the dark, not even thinking about the daemons that might be lurking around before I came across the place where they were holding Noctis captive. There must have been about ten vampires there. I don’t know what I thought I could do. I was only a man with a set of daggers. They were full-fledged vampires. Monsters. Sadly, they had already turned Noctis into a vampire as well. I could tell by the way he hungrily stared at me from where they had him chained with silver to a tree. Turns out silver isn’t exactly tolerated by vampires or werewolves, but that’s another story for another time.

“I tried to fight them off, but it was fruitless. They had me beaten to a pulp in no time at all. Even though Noctis was thirsty and in pain, he still begged them to have mercy on my behalf. As they delivered the fatal blow, a pack of werewolves appeared—Clarus and some of his relatives. The vampires were soon vanquished, and Noctis was released, but I was a lost cause. No potion could spare my life at that time.”

Tears rolled down your cheeks as you realized what must have happened next. You hadn’t even realized you were crying until Ignis reached over to brush some of them away with a cold thumb. You shivered at his touch, but not just because of the coolness of his skin. You had always craved his touch, and in spite of all that was happening, that hunger did not cease.

“Noctis did the only thing he could think to do to save me. He changed me as well. Once the King found out, he sent us away, for our safety, and the safety of the kingdom. We needed to learn to control ourselves before we could come back. Noctis is a prince. He simply cannot just disappear. He has to come back into the public eye soon. Our nature didn’t change the pact between the royals and the Amicitias. Yes, it strains things a tad, but Gladio was determined to help us overcome this obstacle. Prompto agreed to come along as well, mainly for moral support for Noct.”

“But how does Prompto being Fae fit into all of this?” you quizzed him.

“Ah, that was just a fluke. Gladio knew from the beginning what Prompto was. He could sense it. But Prompto isn’t your typical faerie. He isn’t cruel to humans, though he is still quite the prankster, I’m afraid. He just wants to be loved, that’s all. He craves friendship, and a purpose in life. Gladio sensed no threat in him, so he allowed him to befriend Noct.”

You considered all of the information Ignis had laid out before you. “I mean, it kind of makes sense for Gladio to be a werewolf. He’s big, rough, and kinda hairy,” you giggled. “That’s why I suggested it in the first place. But I was just throwing it out there that Prompto was Fae. Shouldn’t he not look so…human?”

“Ah, well that would be his own personal kind of glamour. He uses some of his magic to hide the fact that his ears are pointy and he has this unearthly glow about him. He has other abilities as well, but again, that is another story for another time.”

Other pieces of the story were starting to come together in your mind. “You stayed away to learn to control your thirst for blood, correct?”

“Yes,” Ignis answered wearily. “What are you getting at?”

“You have to drink blood in order to survive. There is no getting around that, is there?”

“I’m afraid not.”

“So that’s why you came here tonight. You picked a random house to look for your next meal…”

“I was afraid you would arrive at that conclusion. Yes, you are quite correct. Noctis and I have improved immensely in terms of our control, but we do still have to drink blood to live.. Staying out in the country, we can get by on animal blood, but as you can clearly see, animals are not plentiful within Insomnia’s walls,” Ignis explained.

“So you came back to start making meals of people?” You were a tad horrified. If Ignis hadn’t known you, you would have been his supper…

Ignis started to reach out and reassure you, but he thought against it and dropped his hand back to his side. He didn’t want to frighten you more than he already had, but he wasn’t going to lie to you. “Once we learned more self-control, Gladio suggested we try to see if we could drink human blood without killing our victims. You see, blood is both a blessing and a curse to us. If we do not drink blood, we will perish. If we drink too much blood, however, we get violently ill. Our thirst is never fully quenched. We can only drink a little at a time. When first transformed, the bloodlust takes over and causes every feed to be a frenzy. We kill our prey and drink ourselves sick and then rise to do it all over again the next day. Only with practice did we learn to pace ourselves. We only feed when necessary and only a little at a time. Never enough to harm a person. It is still difficult to be around humans, though. Being near them for extended periods of time is equivalent to being in a kitchen, smelling warm food cooking. Eventually, you find yourself hungry, even if you were full before.”

“So, what, you just knock on doors and ask people to donate blood but you don’t specify that it’s to you and not a blood center?” you attempted to joke.

Ignis snorted. “No. As a vampire, I am able to glamour people into doing my bidding. I manipulate them into offering their blood, I drink a bit, and then I erase their memories. They wake up feeling slightly weak and they notice a bite on their body, but then they remember that it was an insect bite or they think they ran into something that punctured their skin, and then they go on about their merry way, never remembering that a vampire had them for dinner.”

You weren’t sure why you said it. It was a foolish thought, after all. But though your fears were erased as he told you his story, your attraction to him remained the same. You were alone in your house with Ignis Scientia. Yes, he was a vampire, but he was still the most handsome man, well, creature, you had ever seen. And his personality remained the same. You were still in love with this man, and you cared for him. Maybe love makes you say crazy things. “You came here because you were thirsty. You still are. That’s why your eyes are all blackened, isn’t it?”

“Regrettably, yes. I trick myself into thinking that what I do is okay if I do not know the person, but once I realized it was you who stood behind the door, I could not bring myself to ask you…” Ignis couldn’t finish his sentence. The very thought of exposing you to his monstrous nature pained him. Plus, the more he focused on his thirst, the more his fangs grew. As long as he wasn’t thirsty, they stayed retracted, but the worse it got, the more they showed.

“But you need blood to live. I have plenty of it. I wouldn’t mind if you took some of mine.”

Ignis was astonished. He didn’t want to subject you to that. He cared about you too much. What if his desire for you physically interfered with the desire for your blood? It was bad enough that he could sense your arousal. He had been oblivious to your attraction to him before. He was so caught up in worrying that you wouldn’t like him in that way hat he failed to notice you actually reciprocated his feelings. It wasn’t until he showed up at your door that night that he realized you had returned his feelings all along. He could sense it in you before the fear and confusion set in. But now, that sense of longing was back, and it terrified him. But the thirst was proving to be a driving force in his decision making as well. It had been over a week since he fed, and he knew he couldn’t hold out much longer.

“If you insist…” he reluctantly agreed. “Now that you mention it, I am rather thirsty.”

“I wouldn’t be a very good hostess if I didn’t offer you something to drink, now would I?” you smiled.

Ignis couldn’t hold back his chuckle. “I suppose you have a point.”

Your cheeks reddened as you tore your eyes away from him. “So, do you want me to just sit here and let you bite my neck, or how do you want to do this?”

The thought of being so close to you had Ignis dizzy, and that wasn’t his empty belly talking. His attraction to you was going to be the death of him. “Well, the neck is such a conspicuous place for bite marks. You once told me you hate long sleeves, so it would seem your wrist is out of the question as well. It’s easier to go for some particular veins. I’m told the thigh is the next best choice…” he coughed. He couldn’t look you in the eye. That was too intimate of a spot, and yet he couldn’t stop himself from suggesting it. What was he playing at?

Your blush deepened as crimson flooded your cheeks. “Oh,” was all you could mutter. While he had a point, you were embarrassed at the thought of Ignis seeing you without any pants on. You should be mad at him for suggesting such a thing, but instead you were turned on. You could feel your panties getting wet at the thought and you were angry with yourself. Here was a man just wanting a meal and you were trying to make it dirty. Oh boy. “Okay. Let’s do it then,” you declared. Where that surge of courage came from, you had no idea, but you boldly got up off the couch and slipped out of your sweat pants, nonchalantly tossing them aside.

Ignis stared at you incredulously. He attempted to avert his eyes from your delicious looking hips and thighs, but he was first and foremost a man. A man who hadn’t been with a woman in quite some time. A man who craved you, mind, body, and soul before he ever craved your blood. He got a grip on his inner fantasies and smirked. “I was going to suggest you change into some shorts, but I guess this is just as acceptable as well.”

You squeezed your eyes shut and smacked your forehead. “Oops. I didn’t even think about that. I’m sorry. I can go get some if you want.”

“No, it’s quite alright. Believe me, I am not complaining about the view,” he stated.

You hid your face in your hands. “Do you normally play with your food before you eat it?”

“No. Forgive me. This is new to me. I’m not used to doing this to someone I know. I’m just trying to make light of the situation.”

You asked him how he wanted to proceed, and he suggested you sit on the couch and relax. You followed orders and shakily lowered yourself onto the plush seat. Ignis removed his glasses and set them on the coffee table, then stood up and moved in front of you. Even looming over you, predatory hunger in his blackened eyes, you were still attracted to him. You shivered in anticipation of what was to come in the following moments.

He knelt down in front of you and gazed into your eyes. “Are you sure you are okay with this? Do not feel obligated just because you know I thirst.” He wanted to make sure that you were fully consenting to such a vile act. He still hadn’t fully come to terms with his new nature, but he also knew this was to be his new normal.

“Yes, I’m sure,” you breathed. “I’m all yours.” You weren’t entirely sure how you meant that last part, and Ignis wasn’t sure either, but he nodded and spread your legs slightly, eyeing your inner thigh.

“This will probably hurt only initially. The bite, that is. But if at any point you feel uncomfortable, stop me. I have enough control at this point, I can cease drinking if you wish me to,” he explained as he opened his mouth and lowered his face to your thigh.

You watched with widened eyes as his fangs made their full appearance. He sunk them deep into your flesh and you let in a sharp intake of breath. As soon as they were in you, he had pulled them out and was sucking the blood that was gushing from the punctures. His eyes were closed as he gulped down mouthfuls of your blood. You should have been frightened or repulsed, but instead you were incredibly attracted to him. The way he gripped your calf with one hand and your upper thigh with the other as he fed had butterflies doing somersaults in your stomach. You watched his Adam’s apple bob as he drank and you couldn’t help but wonder how he would taste as you trailed kisses and love bites across his own neck. And what would it feel like to have that mouth on your own…

You were quickly snapped out of your reverie when Ignis suddenly ceased his actions. You looked back down at him as he lapped at the puncture marks with his tongue. The bleeding immediately stopped, the wounds clotting over. He licked his lips and sat back on his haunches.

“That was it?” you asked, almost disappointed.

Ignis offered up a lazy grin. “What, you were expecting more pain and gore? I told you, I can only drink a little bit, otherwise I get sick. Once I am finished, my saliva has properties that cause your wound to start healing itself. I couldn’t have you bleeding all over your couch, now could I?”

“I suppose you have a point,” you agreed. Your eyes locked on his, and you noticed a change. “Hey, your eyes are turning green again!”

Ignis cocked his head to the side. “They are? I guess this means I am satiated then. I can always tell I’m past due to have a meal when my eyes stay dark. The same can be said for Noct.”

The feed was over in the blink of an eye and Ignis had retracted himself from you. His eyes were green again, his fangs were gone, and he looked as he always did. Still, that longing in your belly wasn’t going away any time soon, and you already missed the feeling of him against your bare skin.

The sexual tension between the two of you couldn’t have been more tangible. The want was detectable in your eyes and Ignis felt a hunger he hadn’t felt in ages—one that had nothing to do with blood. He leaned forward and slid a hand up your bare thigh. You shuttered, the motion causing him to hesitate. He didn’t want to give in without your permission. “Don’t stop,” you begged, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’ve always liked you Ignis. Liked you as more than a friend. I wanted to tell you for so long but never gathered up the courage to do so. Once I finally did, you disappeared. I wanted to get over you, but I couldn’t. I longed for the day you would come back, so I could tell you, but I was still afraid. And even though you’ve changed, you’re still you. And I still want you.”

Ignis’s heart swelled. You returned his affections after all. You always had. It wasn’t just the unearthly beauty of a vampire drawing you in, the way it’s meant to. He ran his other hand up your other thigh and leaned his face closer to yours. “I have liked you for quite some time as well, Y/N. That’s why I hesitated tonight, once I realized it was your home. I didn’t want to subject you to the monster I had become. I didn’t want to risk hurting or scaring you because I care too much about you. But I also hated the thought of lying to you and hurting your feelings. Vampires may be horrible creatures and they tend to use their unnatural beauty to draw in their prey, like a moth to flame, but I could sense your attraction to me before you actually saw me. I now possess heightened senses, you know. So I could smell your arousal while I was down here…” He began planting kisses up one of your thighs and you let out a moan.

“Ignis,” you whined. He rose up and crushed his lips against yours. You sighed into the kiss and he took that opportunity to fully taste you with his tongue. You tasted a hint of your own blood, but you didn’t care. You cupped his face with both hands as your tongues wrestled for dominance. He finally broke away from the kiss and resumed kissing your thighs. He was dangerously close to your sex when he ran his fingertips along the hem of your black lace panties.

“May I?” he politely inquired.

You nodded, unable to speak, so overcome with lust and emotion. He pulled them off in one fluid motion and pulled you by the hips towards the edge of the couch. He spread your legs wide and his eyes bore into yours as he lowered his mouth to clit and sucked hard on the bundle of nerves. You threw your head back in a long, drawn out moan. Hearing your obvious approval, he began licking and sucking at your clit before moving lower to plunge his tongue between your folds. You bucked your hips into his face and reached out with one hand to grip the back of his head. Your fingers tangled in his tawny locks as you ground yourself into his mouth. Ever since developing your crush on Ignis, the only pleasure you found was from your own hand or your vibrator, so this type of attention was long overdue. You hadn’t meant to hold out for him, but no one else caught your eye the way he did.

Ignis continued his ministrations for some time, and you could feel yourself reaching the cusp of your release. He focused all of his attention on your clit as he slid two fingers inside of your dripping folds, pumping them rapidly. That was enough to completely undo you. You came with a cry of his name, releasing your hold on his head and falling back against the cushions. You breathed hard for a few seconds before rising back up to peer at Ignis. His pupils were dilated and he was completely focused on you. He wiped his mouth on the back of his hand before rising up to remove the shirt you forgot you were wearing. You had also forgotten that you were braless that night as well. You were home alone reading a book, not expecting visitors, so naturally you were dressed for comfort. His eyes roamed over your breasts and he surged forward to take one in his mouth, groaning as he sucked and nipped at your rosy bud. He released you and went for the other and you moaned at the sensation. You thought you were spent from his earlier touches, but this reignited the burning desire inside of you and you wanted more of him.

When Ignis pulled away, you followed to kiss him, tasting a different part of yourself on his tongue now. You pulled him in close and began unbuttoning his shirt as you continued to kiss him. Once you had pushed the silky fabric off of his shoulders, he shucked it off and stood up. You looked up at him as he began unfastening his pants. He pulled his boxer briefs down with them and stepped out of them quickly. He offered you a hand to help you up, but instead you took one look at his hardened length and formulated a plan. With one hand on his hip and the other around his cock, you pumped him a couple of times before looking him right in the eye and taking him into your mouth. He moaned and ran his fingers through your hair, tangling them up in your tresses. He didn’t thrust into you or pull you onto him, but simply gripped you for balance as you eagerly sucked him off. You continued to pump his base, your fist meeting your lips as you bobbed your head, your mouth in tandem with your hand. You did this for a bit before releasing him with your hand and pulling him further into your mouth, nearly choking yourself on his length. Ignis groaned at the sensation. You pulled back and went to deep throat him again only to have him gently stop you with a hand on your shoulder.

“Darling, I will not last if you keep that up. Please.”

You nodded and rose from your place on the couch. You kissed him deeply as his arms wrapped around your body, his hands quickly finding your backside and giving you a squeeze. You didn’t even make a peep as he gripped the back of your thighs and hoisted you up; you just continued kissing him as if that’s all you wanted to spend the rest of your life doing. You wrapped your legs around him as he carried you off to the bedroom. How he navigated with you attached to his face, you never knew, but he found your room all the same, and lowered you to the bed.

You moved to the middle, head against the pillows, and beckoned him to join you, your finger curling at him in a “come hither” motion. He crawled onto the bed and hovered over you, planting kisses along your neck and chest. Suddenly he stopped and rose up, staring at you with fear in his eyes. You snapped out of your bliss and looked at him, face reflecting nothing but concern.

“Ignis, why’d you stop? Is something wrong?”

He looked away from you as he spoke, but when he opened his mouth, you could see why he pulled back. His fangs were once again visible. “It would seem that thirst for blood isn’t the only thing that causes my fangs to make an appearance. Apparently extreme arousal coaxes them out as well. I haven’t allowed myself such pleasures since I changed. Not even my own hand. So it’s not like I would have known this would happen. I’m terribly sorry, but I…”

You cut him off with a finger to his lips. “Shh, don’t worry about it, Ignis. The fangs don’t bother me. They’re part of who you are now. Just, try not to bite me too hard, okay? That is, if you still want to do this at all,” you looked away, wondering if he still desired you the way you did him.

Ignis still craved that part of you—to be inside of you—to feel you completely around his cock; he just didn’t want to get caught up in the moment and hurt you. “Of course I still want you. I just want to be careful with you, love,” he explained as he caressed your cheek with one hand.

“Well don’t be too careful. I’m not that fragile, Ignis. I need you,” you pleaded.

He lined himself up with your entrance and eased into you. You let in a sharp intake of breath as he filled you completely. He sat motionless for a moment, letting you get accustomed to his length. “Ignis,” you whispered.

That was all it took for him to start thrusting into you. You moaned as he set a rhythm and fucked you into the mattress. He had gripped your legs, looping his arms underneath them so he could get a better angle as he slammed into you. He hit that special spot over and over and your fingers raked over the front of his thighs as you scrambled to grip at him, at the sheets, at anything to keep you steady as he undid you. You could get fucked by Ignis all night and come a thousand times and still crave more of him. This was the best feeling you had ever experienced and you didn’t want it to end.

After a while, Ignis released your legs and leaned forward, burying his face in the crook of your neck as he picked up the pace. You could feel that tightness coiling in your belly and you knew your release was imminent. He jackhammered into you, and you could hear tiny groans slipping past his lips as he started moving more erratically, losing control of himself.

“Ignis, I’m gonna come again,” you moaned.

“Come for me, darling,” was his answer.

As if on command, you did come. You saw stars as you threw your head back in a loud moan. He chased his release soon after, coming with a roar as his bit down on your neck. You gasped but relished the feeling as he rode out his orgasm, your walls clenching around him, milking him for all he was worth. He finally collapsed on top of you, simultaneously releasing the grip his teeth had on your neck.

“Oh, Gods, I’m so sorry,” he apologized as he lapped at the puncture marks he made in your neck, staunching the blood flow.

You let out a tired laugh. “It’s okay, Ignis. Does it make me weird if I say it was kind of hot when you bit me like that?”

He chuckled against your shoulder as he rose up on his elbows to gaze into your face. “Only a little. Though I must say, I don’t want to get into a habit of doing that. I can’t have you walking around with anemia all of the time.”

You beamed at him. “So this means this isn’t a one-time thing? I was afraid you’d disappear on me again.”

Ignis shook his head and kissed the tip of your nose. “No, I do not wish for this to be a one night stand. As I’ve already stated, I do care for you. And here I thought my nature would put a damper on the relationship. I still thirst for blood, constantly, but we’ll figure out a way to make this work I swear to it.”

“Well, I can’t say I’m excited that you’re now a vampire, but I am happy that you’re alive and that you’re here with me. Does this mean all of you are back for good?”

Ignis rolled off of you and settled down beside you, pulling you in close so you were chest to chest. “Yes, we’re back. We were on our way back to the Citadel actually, but Noct suggested I feed first. I figured someone living near the wall would be a quick and easy meal, and yet look at where I ended up.” He flashed a smile, sans fangs, and still, it was the most beautiful smile you had ever witnessed. You were boneless from recent activities, and yet his smile had you weak at the knees.

“Can you go out in the sunlight?” you suddenly wondered aloud. “And do you even sleep?”

“Trying to figure out if all of the vampire lore you’ve read about is accurate or not?” he teased.

“Hey, this is a whole new territory for me. Can you blame me for being curious?” you stuck your tongue out at him.

“No, I cannot blame you. We have plenty of time to go over everything, but not tonight. Tonight, I just want to hold you and relax for the first time in months, if that’s quite alright with you. But to answer your questions first, yes, I do sleep, and yes, I can go out in the daylight, but only if I’m well fed. The sunlight isn’t entirely pleasant, but bearable. The longer I go without blood, the more sunlight bothers me.”

“Oh, well that’s good at least. It would be odd for our future king to only make public appearances at night.”

“True. While we are still figuring out how to approach this whole situation, it is nice to finally be back in Insomnia. And it’s nice to finally be with you.” He nuzzled his nose against your own and pecked your lips. “Sleep well, my love.” He leaned away to swiftly turn off the lamp, enveloping the two of you in darkness, the only light coming from the moonlight leaking through the blinds covering the window.

You yawned and nestled down against Ignis’s chest as he pulled the covers over you both. “Goodnight, Ignis.” You had no idea how it was going to work—dating a vampire, that is, but you were more than willing to go down that road and see what else this crazy world had in store for you.