#if someone set twitch's servers on fire I would cheer

[amplexadversary]

Honestly, rather than twitch taking five FUCKING minutes to verify my free subscription every time I want to watch Critical Role early, they should just let me set the damn thing to renew automatically.

It's not like I use their piss-poor website for anyfuckingthing else anyway why the hell should I have to wait for them to find their ass from a hole in the ground?

[primofate]

Genshin x fem!reader [Volleyball Team AU - Inspired by Haikyuu!] You cheer something embarrassing + The rival team comments about it

Note: My fixation on this AU continues... I just think there’s so many scenarios to explore. 

Scenario: Your friend has dared you to cheer something embarrassing for your boyfriend. Everyone hears it, including the rivalling team...

Warnings: not proofread, some swearing and profanity, slight sexual innuendo if you squint (Tartaglia’s)

Other works in the Volleyball Team AU Series: Click Here

#1 Zhongli (Captain/Wing Spiker/Ace)

Zhongli is pretty well-known among Aces.

He knows you’re up there on the stands and for him that’s good enough. Is not the type to keep looking up there to check if you’re watching. He’d rather be focused on the game.

So when you shout out his name just as they’re about to start, his head snaps towards you and you can see surprise on his face.

“Zhongli!!!” literally all eyes are on you now, the coaches, the managers, the other team. “Y-You’re--”

Your friend nudges and whispers at you “Louder you moron! He won’t hear you if you stutter!”

“YOU’RE THE CAPTAIN OF MY HEART!” 

You cringe and just bury your face in your hands, your friend is laughing uncontrollably

There’s silence in the court, BUT THEN HIS TEAM GOES WILD “CAPTAIN ARE YOU BLUSHING?!” “QUICK SOMEONE TAKE A PHOTO” “HE’S MALFUNCTIONED!” 

Zhongli has a blush on his cheeks but gets his team in order “ROUND UP!” but they’re all silently snickering or giggling.

They form a circle and put their hands in together. Zhongli shouts “FIGHT!” a lot louder than usual.

His team grins. Their captain is fired up, so they’re fired up too. 

Just before he’s about to take first serve he makes it a point to look your way, and give you a firm nod.

Then the captain of the opposite team comments about your cheering. “Wah! I wish I had someone cheering me on like that,” is looking at you with heart eyes.

Zhongli exudes a dark aura and everyone covers their head in fear of getting hit by the ball “Eyes over here,” he grumbles towards the other captain who just smirks.

#2 Diluc (Vice Captain/Wing Spiker/Defense Specialist)

“Diluc! THE ONLY THING STRONGER THAN YOUR SPIKE IS MY LOVE FOR YOU!”

Oh yea gurl. Even your friend is embarrassed and ducks behind the railings to hide her face.

“That’s kinda...cheesy...” Kaeya mutters under his breath and scratches his cheek.

Childe is glittering all over, “It’s so cheesy but I’m kinda jealous,” They both turn to Diluc.

Yea he’s gone. From neck to hairline he’s red all over and steam is coming off from his ears.

His teammates crack up.

He’s so out of it the rest of the team needs to clap and hit his back to get him back into the real world.

“Oi, get yourself together, your girlfriend’s watching!” He snaps out of it at that and puts on his game face.

The other team comments, “She’ll find out my spike is stronger!” 

Diluc is livid that they’re trying to outshine your cheers and spikes like never before.

#3 Kaeya (Middle Blocker)

“KAEYA! YOU CAN BLOCK SPIKES BUT YOU CAN NEVER BLOCK MY HEART!”

has a shit-eating grin the moment he hears it. 

Cups his hands around his mouth and shouts back. “YOU CAN’T BLOCK MINE EITHER!!! I LOVE YOU!!!”

The whole team is just...what in the world is this cringey-ness unfolding in front of them...?

Team doesn’t know whether to be motivated or to puke.

But Kaeya is there to the rescue. He’s so hyped that there are flowers hovering around his peaceful face. “Come on, come on, we gotta show Y/N who the kings of the courts are here, don’t let me down,”

Half-way through the game one of the opponents ask him, “Hey, that your girl up there? She’s kinda cute,”

KAEYA ISN’T EVEN FAZED Y’ALL “She is, isn’t she?!” Probs will show you off more, to his team’s displeasure. 

After the game (which they obiviously won) he bear hugs you and is proud of how much you cheered for him.

#4 Albedo (Setter)

“Bedo!!! YOU SET MY HEART ON FIRE!”

You say this just as the ball touches his fingertips, he slips up a bit at the embarrassing cheer and they end up losing that point.

“Oh crap,” you mutter under your breath and duck under the rails to hide while your friend laughs, pointing at your hidden form when Albedo looks up to the stands.

“Don’t mind, don’t mind!” his teammates slap his back to reassure him that they can get the lost point back.

Tartaglia is the one that zooms in on Albedo’s face, “How are you not making any reactions at all?”

Albedo stares at him for a moment. “...Because she merely stated the truth,” 

Kazuha laughs at how logical their setter is but adds, “He slipped up, I think that’s enough of a reaction,”

Albedo pouts a little but continues with the game. 

A little later on the setter of the other team tries to provoke him. “Hey, you didn’t even give your girlfriend any reaction. Watch out, I’m pretty sure I can give better ones,” 

Albedo is so pissed he actually spikes the next ball with his eyes on that bastard.

#5 Tartaglia (Middle Blocker/Wing Spiker)

“TARTAGLIA!!! YOUR SPIKES MAKE ME WEAK IN THE KNEES!” 

Another one who has a shit-eating grin on his face.

Shouts back at you “THAT’S NOT THE ONLY THING OF MINE THAT MAKES YOU WEA--” is FREAKIN slapped by Zhongli at the back of his head.

You kind of thank his captain that he wasn’t able to finish that sentence but damn it’s still embarrassing.

Kaeya and Tohma is snorting with laughter

Xiao and Albedo does not get it.

Someone from the other team begrudgingly comments, “Dude you don’t have to flex her that hard,” 

Tartaglia is the type to take the bait, a dark look on his face while looking at the opponent. “That’s right, be jealous, no one’s cheering for you huh?”

Whacked by Zhongli the second time and pushes his head down and apologizes for this man-Childe

#6 Kazuha (Decoy/Middle Blocker/Wing Spiker)

“KAZUUU!!! YOU JUMP JUST LIKE MY HEART DOES WHEN I HUG YOU!”

Laughs aloud sheepishly but waves his hand at the stands where you are. 

Is secretly stoked and fueled.

But his other teammates are still teasing him about it. “Wow she must be having some kind of heart attack whenever she hugs you then,” “Come on Kazuha! Show us how far you can jump!”

Laughs sheepishly again and waves his hands at his teammates, “Okay, alright, that’s enough,”

But man is FLYING during the game, literally. The team is kinda scared about how high he’s jumping today and wonders if you’ve cast some type of magic spell.

They’re all thinking ‘...if I get a girlfriend will I perform better too?’ with these glum looks on their faces.

The opposing team’s member remarks, just speaking out loud. “She’s right he really does jump high for someone so small...”

Kazuha smirks at them, although there’s still a friendly smile on his face. “Y/N knows me best,”

#7 Xiao (Libero)

“XIAO! RECEIVE THAT BALL THE WAY YOU RECEIVE ME IN YOUR ARMS!”

low-key the other teammates start to add-on to the teasing. “Wow, how DO you receive her in your arms, Xiao?” “You like cuddles or what?” “So do YOU initiate the cuddles or does she?”

“ENOUGH!” he’s a blushing mess and pushes away his team members to try and focus on the game. 

He shoots you a half-glare while you’re over at the stands but later on he’s prolly gunna give you cuddles the way he likes it.

Every time they’re on time out or break the terrible two (Kaeya and Tartaglia) tease him by wrapping their arms around Xiao and repeating what you said “Receive that ball the way you receive me in your arms!!” “Hug me Xiaoooooo!”

Xiao just punches the both of them on the head.

Albedo deadpans the terrible two and says “That’s a very good way of showing that you’re jealous no one is cheering for you,”

They both sulk on the side of the court.

The other team’s spiker comments, enough for Xiao to hear. “Gee she’s kinda cute,”

Xiao doesn’t even hold back, with fire in his eyes, points at that guy. “You! You won’t get any ball past me!” 

#8 Tohma (Pinch Server/Middle Blocker)

“TOHMA! YOU CAN SERVE THAT BALL BUT I CAN SERVE YOU SOME LOVE!!!”

Tohma laughs heartily and turns to his teammates, “Hear that guys? Guess it’s time for me to go and get served some love,” 

He’s literally just in seventh heaven and is about to nope it out of there to meet you at the stands but Diluc grabs the collar of his shirt and drags him back. “The game isn’t over...”

Deadass pouts the rest of the game, but is so motivated to finish that most of his serves are unstoppable.

And then in the middle of the game, someone from the other team waves back at you. “I CAN SERVE YOU SOME LOVE TOO!”

Tohma serves that ball straight at the guys head, his eye is twitching in annoyance.

Is possibly the happiest that you came to his game and swings you around when he meets you. “Thanks for cheering babe!”

Taglist: @softlybeloved @bobaducky @normalisthenewnorm @how-simpy @atasi-luna @berryqueue @hallohun @milkypompon

Hello Hello! Technically this could be counted as fluff, but I understand that not everyone is fond of AUs, so, if you don’t mind being tagged to something like this, please fill in the survey again (I’ve added AU as an option, just click that one if you’ve signed up for the others before!)

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[maple-writes]

WHG 14: Boat 5

tagging @concealeddarkness13 (Triel, Nesri, Zenith) @ratracechronicler (Elvira, Rebecca) @pen-of-roses (Lynn, Rowan, Laurel) (I think those are all the others in this anyway lol)

###

The next morning came and the others went off to grab their targets and I slipped my way into the main room where Ceasar was finishing up one of his first presentations of the day. According to Amy and her notes, this one was something to do with a new fashion line, and the next would be introducing some performer. Unfortunately for them, I didn’t think they would be getting their chance to perform today. The crowd still seemed a little sleepy, muted enjoyment ebbing from partygoers as I brushed by them, making my way towards the front, towards the stage. No one seemed to notice when I didn’t laugh at Ceasar’s jokes, and no one seemed to notice me weaving past them. I guess that was one good thing about missing half my soul if it made me easier to ignore, easier to overlook, just a step up from some inanimate thing.

Applause filled the room as he finished his talk and stepped off the stage. Ten minutes. That’s what the schedule said. I smiled, already starting to get excited. More than enough time to set myself up. Peering out from the front of the crowd, it looked like no one had expected anything to happen here. No security that I could see, no railings, just an open stage low enough to clamber up on. Perfect. Chances were peacekeepers would be more focused on guarding the tributes, on patrolling the secluded areas of the ship to catch us doing anything out of line. But here? Here in the spotlight, center stage, with dozens upon dozens of eyes on the shining star? Fools. They’d never see it coming.

Chatter replaced the applause and the waiting began. Surrounded by casual patrons, I curled my hands in my pockets, fingernails already starting to sharpen. It was all I could do not to vibrate with excitement, with energy. When else could I justify doing this again? Ginger would kill me if she knew what I was about to do, where I was about to do it, in front of so many people, so many potential victims. But I could handle it. I could, I could. I’d practiced, I’d worked on it, and I wouldn’t go too far. Just enough. I smiled, lips pressed together to hide my teeth. Just enough to scare him, to make him fear, to make him fear in front of everyone.

Cheers jolted me alert as the lights went back up and Ceasar strutted back on stage, adjusting the little microphone headset by his face.

“Hello again distinguished guests!” He flashed a smile of too-perfect teeth. “Thank you for your patience!”

My cue. Ceasar paused for affect and I went for it before I could change my mind. I scooted forward and hopped up on the stage. The lights shone hot and blinding on my shoulders, but I hardly noticed, eyes locked on Ceasar as he stared, shocked and confused to the silence of the crowd.

Ceasar only took a second to regain an image of composure. “Ah, can I—”

“You don’t recognize me?”

As soon as I spoke he froze, paling even under his layer of makeup. I grinned, teeth sharp and shadowy horns starting to materialize off my head like smoke as I stalked towards him. Every step closer and I could already start to feel his nerves, buzzing just off his skin to crawl across mine. Coward.

I laughed, coming up behind him to snarl into his ear. “So you do? You know exactly who I am don’t you?” He didn’t respond and I grabbed his jaw, digging the points of my claws into his skin. Not enough to bleed, not enough to cut, but enough. Enough that he knew. “Aw, come on now, say something.”

The lights flickered, shadow gathering around my legs where it couldn’t reach the floor. Disappeared before it could find it’s destination. Panic flooded from my grip on his face, hot and fast and racing straight to my heart. Straight to my heart where it sped and sped. He wasn’t going to say anything. He wasn’t. He’d never not been in control.

“Not so confident now are you?” I jeered and leaned in closer, leaning over his shoulder to let him see me, see my teeth, see my horns, see the tails twitching in the dark. “Go on, scream. Scream and beg for someone to come save you, to come help you, to stop this.”

I twisted his head, making him look to the petrified crowd. “You think those are your friends, your fans?” I asked with a cock of my head and a cruel smirk. “You remember what I said to you? How I could hurt you? How I could tear your skin from your bones and your bones from your body? Do you really think any of them would come save you? Come save you when it’s that bloodlust they crave so much?”

This time he struggled, pulling back from my grip and leaving thin scratches down his face where he wrenched from my grip. I could see him shake, see him panic and I stood up taller. I stood taller, holding my hands out to my sides and laughing, laughing, louder and louder. The lights went out, power drained and gone from the very wires running through the inside of the ship, from the bulbs screwed into the fixtures as shadow grew behind me.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it?” I twisted, leaning over the stage at the crowd. They flinched back, pushing and bumping each other to put distance between them and the stage where I stood, where I stood overlooking them and snarling, laughing, threatening. “You want blood, you want violence? Well what are you so afraid of? What are you so afraid of now that you have it, now that you have it right here? Isn’t this what you wanted? What you vied so hard to get with your tickets and your events?”

None of them responded, of course they wouldn’t. They only liked the thought of pain, the idea of bloodshed.

“Well lucky for you, maybe you’ll get just a little. I want you to watch, isn’t that what you’re here for?”

I turned, snatching Ceasar by his sleeve and hauling him back to center stage. He staggered, struggling for balance as I grabbed him again, sinking my claws into his shoulder to turn him around. Fresh panic flowed from his skin though my bones, through my veins, and the thin trickle of blood down my hand. He wavered, weakening, struggling. I was taking a lot from him. He wasn’t used to it. Everything near me, everything around me was fair game. The lights, his strength, the crowd’s fear, it all came to me. Came to me and died when it reached my skin, my blood, my body, like the light itself that turned to dark rising all up my back like crawling insects and creeping illness.

“Oh?” I pushed Ceasar down, bent at the hip with a hand in his hair to overlook the crowd. “Is it different now? Different now that you’re here, that you’re seeing it, that he’s one of your own? Oh no. Oh poor you?” I dipped down, looking Ceasar in his half-closed, half-conscious eyes. “What ever will we do about that?” He didn’t say anything, of course he wouldn’t. His heart was probably beating weaker already, drained, struggling with the energy lost through my hand on the back of his neck. “Awfully quiet now aren’t you?”

I pushed him down and he lay there, crumpled and limp on the stage floor. He struggled, tried to move, tried to get his arms and his legs and his limbs under him to get up, to run, to do anything, but he couldn’t. Couldn’t do anything as I loomed above him, stared down at him with just enough of his own blood on my hands for him to notice. For him to know. For him to start thinking to himself, pleading to whoever he plead to to try and save his life.

And I could kill him. I could kill him right now. Slice though his neck, server that one critical artery running straight from his heart to his head. Plunge my hand into his throat and tear out the trachea, tear out that voice he loved to hear so much. Cut through his stomach, tear out all the soft parts hidden inside and leave them to rot and ooze all over the clean floors.

I could do it. Could do it right here, right now, right now. My heart raced, fast and excited in my chest. Fast like a greyhound, a greyhound held back by nothing more than a gate with it’s eyes fixed on a lure. On a rabbit, on a prey, and any second that gate could open and out it would run, racing, until it caught it with it’s teeth. It’s teeth that tore flesh and—

He was lucky I promised Cirrus I’d stop myself. Lucky. Lucky bastard.

Snarling, I kicked him in the ribs instead, rolling him over onto his back before twisting to glare at the crowd again. “So that’s it? You’re just going to stand there? Stand there and watch?” I spat. “I thought at least you’d have the sense to run away. To save your own lives. Pathetic.”

I lowered my had and stepped across the stage and they pressed back again, some starting to wake up, some starting to figure it out. That this wasn’t a show. That this wasn’t what was supposed to be happening. Some ran, fleeing for an exit but they couldn’t get out because there stood Amy. The avox, the one Cirrus had sought out and how had so graciously given us all the information we could have needed.

There stood Amy with a peackeeper’s pistol.

She aimed it just above the heads of the crowd and fired. Fired loud and ear-splitting at the one remaining, one weakly shining candle chandelier in the middle of the  ceiling.

It fell with a crash and the room plunged dark. Screams erupted, screams and shouts and cries and pleads. I could only laugh, cackling with my head back as they screamed and pushed and shoved and fought for anything to keep themselves safe. anything to get out of there. Anything. Anything. Anything

Another gun shot. And another. And another. Tiny flashes of light as glass broke, as windows shattered with the bullets fired from Amy’s new gun. Curtains pulled away and some tried to climb out, tearing up their expensive clothes on the broken glass. Others hid, hid as best they could under tables or in corners, frozen, fearing, fearing for their lives and lit only by the slowly growing fires from the downed candles taking hold on the carpets.

All while Ceasar lay on the floor, barely propping himself up on one elbow and staring in horror at the scene in front of him. At the scattered trays, at the broken crystal, at the drinks spilled n the floor and the panic seizing the crowd as they turned on each other, pushed and shoved and fought over trying to get out.

The shadowy silhouette of someone running the stage made me turn, snarling and drawing shadow up over my shoulders, but it was only Amy. She waved me on, towards her with her free hand, but I ignored her. I wasn’t done. I wasn’t done. There was still so much I could do here. Still so much I could.

Her hand closed around my wrist and she pulled, pulled me nearly off balance and toppling off the stage. I spat and fought, pulling back and swiping at her face but stopped myself just short. Just short of her eyes. Amy. This was a friend. A friend. She was on our side.

She flinched only a moment before yanking again, and I half relented, spitting and swearing as she dragged me out of the room and back into the sunlight of outside where I wrenched myself out of her grip.

“Get lost!” I spat, pushing her back against the side of the ship. “Leave me alone, let me, let me, I’m going to—”

“You’re not doing to do a damned thing Asher.”

Cirrus grabbed me from behind, hooking his arms under mind and dragging me back, away from Amy. She blinked, shook herself of and ran off along with us, towards the others, the others gathered underneath the ladder dropped down from the ship.

I stopped, stopped resisting as Cirrus half hauled, half guided me towards the others. The horns, the tails, they faded first as I clung to his arm. To something familiar, to something calm. It was over, time to draw back, time to stop, time to…

But I laughed, I shrieked, I shrieked with the glee of what I’d done. Of how Ceasar crumbled under me, the panic that still spread unmitigated through the main hall. That I could still hear, could still feel crawling under my skin and begging me to go back, to finish what I’d started, to—

“Come on, work with me here,” Cirrus hissed, trying to get me up the ladder. Amy was already way ahead of us, her stolen gun still in hand. “Climb the damn ladder.”

I sneered. “Fine, if you insist. If I must, but you—”

“Now, Asher.”

Right. The plan. The escape.

The three of us were among the last in the airship. Already the others had gathered in the hold, or whatever this place was, wherever we were on the ship. No one spoke, and I took a breath to shout, but Cirrus slapped his hand over my mouth and dragged me to one of the far walls. I growled something meaningless under my breath as he tried to get me to sit.

“No!” I growled. “Let me go! I want to—”

“You can do whatever you want later but you have to calm down first.” Cirrus grumbled, keeping his hands on my shoulders to try and hold me back. “Just sit down for now, okay? Come on.”

I grinned, pushing back against his grip just to bother him. Just to test him, to push, to tease. I grappled with him a little longer, grabbing at his hair, his clothes as he tried to wrestle me down. I laughed, sharp and giggling and Cirrus groaned.

“Come on Asher…” Something caught his eye and he glanced over his shoulder at Amy, celebrating and brandishing her stolen pistol in triumph. “Hey, put that away before you hurt someone.”

She didn’t listen, smiling from ear to ear like she hadn’t even heard him and Cirrus gave up, turning his focus back to me. This time he succeeded in wrestling me down, shoving me down to sit down on the floor against the wall. Fine, he won this time. I’d let him win this time. He was right. It was over. Time to calm down, but my heart still raced, my body still shook with too much energy, too much everything.

I hardly noticed when Triel entered, dripping wet and triumphant. “Congratulations on a successful heist! I couldn’t have done it without you!”

Rebecca whispered something, but I could only hear Elvira properly as she noticed Amy. “Ah… You must be Amy?”

She nodded eagerly, weapon still out despite Cirrus’ request to put it away. I smiled, near matching her smile. She deserved it, she should keep it. She must have been clever to steal a gun right off a peacekeeper like that.

Lynn looked up from Rowan and Laurel. “This is real right? You’re all really here, this is really happening?”

Rebecca nodded. “We are. You don’t still think we’re Peacekeepers, do you?”

Triel shook her head. “The winds were favoring us today. No one was able to come after us.”

I leaned back, grinning from ear to ear. She did it! The murrelet and her husband kept their promise. Lynn spoke next, but I only half paid attention, trying my best to slow my heart, to breath deep enough to ease the ache in my lungs. I clenched my fists, trying not to fix my eyes on the back of Cirrus’ leg. It was right there, right there, and even through the boots I could probably cut him. Probably cut through the skin enough to hurt, enough to get him down to… No no. I didn’t want to do that. Didn’t want to hurt him.

The conversation shifted, Nesri and Cirrus and Rebecca all teasing each other about the events in the apartment, of the popcorn throwing, of the spar in the living room, much to Lynn’s confusion. I listened in, staring up at Cirrus as he tried not to look amused. I was still smiling, grinning like an idiot as the lighthearted mood, the relieved celebration ran through my blood, not quite slowed enough to block it out yet.

Zenith grumbled something and Nesri chimed in, “Shenanigans, tomfoolery, etcetera.” She crossed her arms at him with a big smile. “Who’s the one that walked into the apartment in the middle of the night, cursed with magic, and had to bed Asher to knock you unconscious?”

I remember that! “That was Zenith!” I laughed, louder than I’d thought, throwing my head back against the wall. “Got himself cursed!”

Zenith sighed, as if trying to hide the little smile tugging at his lips. “Who’s the one who had me and Elvira swap bodies and then race?”

I grinned, teeth still a little too sharp, a little too far gone, but I didn’t care. Not with them. They knew me. They knew. “Are you just mad you lost?”

He muttered something under his breath, but didn’t say more, eyeing Elvira until Triel took over again and I stopped listening. Cirrus would tell me if she said anything I needed to know. He was always paying attention. I thought I heard something about phones, about a mansion, and something about communication, but I kept them all tuned out as I spread my hand over the metal flooring of the airship. The faint engine hum buzzed under my palm, firm and unyielding though the steel. Minute after minute, things slowed, my breathing, my heart, slowed back to where they should. Leaning back against the wall, I let my eyes close as everything started to feel heavy. I’d just have to join whatever celebrations there’d be a little later.

[ninemoons42-lestallumhaven]

(Did this over two writing sprints in one of the FFXV Discord servers I’m part of, so thanks to creator friends for giving me the impulse and the companionship of working together. Musical inspirations include Capriccio espagnol and, of course, my sprint theme, String Quartet #12 “American”.)

(I took the germ for this piece from a Rey/Finn/Poe Dameon ficlet I posted in 2016, called schools of magic.)

(And I wrote this for @jean-the-bean and @junjougrey.)

Quick Fic Pick 75: chocobo, stand your ground

“Ready when you are,” he says, and on the rocks below him Gladio hefts the entire massive length of the red-corded greatsword in both hands, up into an overhead block and the sunlight catches on the blade, flaring in the bright morning, enough to blind him.

Rustle in the rocks above him, pitter-patter of pebbles showering, and he knows that was a deliberate thing. A deliberate sound. A specifically reassuring sound: for when she’s on the move, when she’s on the attack, not even magical spells can detect the footsteps of Lunafreya -- the way she sprints, the way she springs into the attack, the flight of her myriad knives, like she’s a storm of power and purely lethal speed.

“Here they come!” And he’s also familiar with the distortion of Noctis’s voice: it’s not him, anyway, or it’s not inherent to him. His voice is distorted because he’s forcing it through his shields.

Ignis doesn’t turn his head to the left, or a little upwards, because he doesn’t need to see those crystal-blue planes and facets and shards of light for reassurance.

He can feel Noctis’s power, he can feel Noctis’s strength: the immense magical pulse of him in the world, the bright startling flare of his power and the potential of his blood -- the gifts that could only have been found and trained and honed by his mother Aulea, and Noctis is her son and her best student and Ignis was, still is, grateful for her and for him both and the presence that they have both brought to bear onto this world.

Far below, in the clefts and the fissures and the deep verdant valleys of these mountains, live people with their hopes and their dreams and their families and their love, and these people are under their protection, too.

The thought lingers in his mind for a heartening moment and then -- flash of metal-brazed pinions, harsh scream in the bright daylight, and he can’t stop the lurch of his heart and he can’t stop the vicious oath that he hisses.

Fiends, powerful and hungry, shrieking with their hunger, and still the question remains: what is making them canter and clash rampant in the daylight, and so close to the settlements to boot? What kind of darker magic is at work in this world that is making the nights so dangerous and the days so fraught with fear?

Warmth and wash of magic running through Ignis’s veins -- Noctis is casting, or probably has been casting for a while, given the flurry of fireballs streaking from his fingertips, and Ignis bares his teeth in a joyless grin.

Bow in his hands, the supple curve of it and the tension that it needs, the tension of it that he craves and that runs through his bones and his nerves and his muscles as he plucks an arrow from the quiver riding his hip. Up, up, the tip aiming for enemy hearts, and he draws -- he knows the twitch of his own mouth and the strain in his own shoulders as he completes the movement, and he whispers in a different tongue as he lets fly --

The single arrow becomes three, three become a dozen -- a multiplication of the arrows and they turn into flames as they’re launched out, screeching fire to cast down the feral snarls clustering around and above Gladio, and Ignis nods, once, waits for the next cluster to hit.

“Look.”

Whisper to his right -- Lunafreya’s voice, torn on the wind of her passage as she streaks back up towards Noctis’s position in time to slash another fiend open.

Ignis turns to the right and sees -- nothing but greedy eyes, nothing but slavering mouths, and he drops to one knee for stability, because he needs to be utterly still, if he’s going to attack. He needs to be utterly fastened into himself, into his focus, into the world that’s still and supporting, and he closes one eye and sights -- starts shooting. Arrow after arrow after arrow, precise, carefully timed so he doesn’t have to run out of breath, so he doesn’t tire before the quiver runs empty -- and there’s the impact of supplies arriving anyway, Noctis conjuring another full quiver into the world even as he summons a storm of fire and lightning unto their enemies, and the quiver falls right next to Ignis’s foot so he doesn’t have to waste time, so he can keep attacking, and --

“Hey!”

Ignis’s blood runs cold, suddenly: because that’s alarm in Gladio’s voice -- something else is coming, a larger threat, a more immediate threat, and he swings to look in the direction of that shout and --

Even the peace of the bow in its full tension and flex in his hands shatters, once he understands that there are daemons on the move: once he understands the boiling rage of black ichor on those mountain rocks.

“Fall back,” he screams, and Gladio is already moving and that’s a good thing: but being in the higher reaches of the mountain’s slopes means being isolated, means there’s nowhere to shelter.

He shouts at Noctis and Lunafreya anyway: “You’re going to have to -- ”

“Who are you?”

Voice, new voice, strange and unknown and -- sweet high song of a cry, and Ignis glances upwards and immediately throws himself into a roll, and there are golden feathers falling onto the ledge that he’s been occupying, claws landing right where he was just standing -- golden feathers and a kind spark in beady black eyes.

A cry that he’s never heard in the world -- he’s only ever read about the great feathered beast that’s fluttering its wings for balance on the narrowness of the ledge -- it’s hard to understand that he’s looking at something real, and once he catches sight of Noctis he knows he’s not going mad, because Noctis can see this creature, too, and if any of them would know about how strange and how rare this beautiful thing is, it’d be Noctis --

Thump of bare feet hitting the stone -- the boy, he’s only a boy, his skin stippled in freckles, his hair the exact gold of the bird’s feathers, his eyes like ocean-jewels -- the wind catches on the lengths of fabric pinned to his shoulders and caught in knots on his vambraces -- catches the single magnificent feather that he wears in his hair, like it’s a jewel in its own right. Slender dueling sword on a belt at his hip.

His other hand -- Ignis watches him keenly as he glances down the ravening mountain-side and makes a face, somewhere between a snarl and a smirk.

The boy whistles out a sharp tune and magic shimmers out of him -- not Noctis’s dusk-blue power but something like sunset-hues instead, flowing down the rocky slopes.

“That’ll hold them for a bit,” the boy declares, and then he crosses his arms and quirks up an eyebrow. “Now please answer me. Who are you, and what are you doing here?”

“Can hardly trust someone like you, we got here first, we’re trying to protect those villages on the other side of the mountains,” Ignis hears Gladio say, steady mocking good cheer. “They asked us for help and we’re giving it to them.”

“He only looks and sounds ungrateful, please ignore his lack of tact,” and Lunafreya laughs, a little, and Ignis watches her unwind the dust-veils from her face and from her braided hair. “And -- do you recognize me?”

The boy nods, once. “You, yes, I’ve seen you before. You’re the girl who didn’t want to be a priestess.”

“Can you blame me? I do much better with my blades. The gods won’t listen to my words because I’m too rough-spoken for them.”

“The gods don’t listen to anyone at all,” and the boy cracks a small smile. Reserved.

He seems much warmer when his companion, with its wings and its feathers, croons at him and brushes the tip of its beak over the top of his head -- he laughs a little, and reaches out to catch its head in both hands, and he sings back the note that it’s producing, higher, fluttering in the wind. “All right. If you trust them, I’ll trust them too.”

But the smile drops off his face when he glances back down the mountain, and -- he snarls, he honestly snarls, and Ignis finds himself rushing to his side and looking down at -- the rage of hungry shadows, boiling and boiling and rushing towards them --

So he acts, because he’s been trained for this, after all, and he starts with: “Noctis, I’ll take all the arrows now.”

“All right,” and three more quivers appear next to his feet.

“I’ll watch your back,” Gladio says, stomping to his side. Shiver of magic in the air around him, and the greatsword changes into a shield, the pointed end of which he plants into the rock before his feet.

“And I’ll watch his,” he hears Lunafreya say, and she’s speeding up to Noctis’s perch and they’re joining hands for a moment, she’s whispering to him for a moment, before she draws another set of daggers and watches, crouched, next to him.

The boy with the feather in his hair -- has dropped back to lean against the mountain itself, and when Ignis looks at him, his features are screwed up in intense concentration, and he seems to be singing once again.

He’ll have to join the great feathered bird -- “chocobo” seems like such an inadequate name for its power, for the great sweep of its wings, for the bright cry that erupts from its mouth -- in protecting the boy.

And when the first of the daemons blunders through the barrier that the boy had created, Ignis calmly fires an arrow right between its eyes, and puts it out of its misery.

Through the first, and through the next, through the next -- the trickle becomes a flood -- the flood becomes a shattering storm --

Lightning flashing down from the cloudless clear sky, and each striking bolt leaves behind images of shimmering blue.

Lunafreya’s voice, clear and calm and sharp, calling out targets.

Gladio’s shield is just as effective a battering ram as it is a bulwark, and he seems to bat away a particularly large daemon with it so easily, so calmly, though the man’s mouth is fixed in a grimace.

And then another whistle rises above all the screams of the fight and the chocobo itself screams a warning.

“Everyone down!”

That’s the boy, that’s his voice, the song in it shredding away on the fury of the words, and Ignis is already covering his head with his arms, even as Gladio pulls him behind the shield -- he hopes, he assumes, that Lunafreya is, similarly, covering Noctis -- the boy sounds like all the power of winter, suddenly --

Winter -- that suddenly comes to them in a silent snow-hush, cold that sears him right into his bones for only an instant --

He peers around the edge of the shield and the boy is changing, all the golden hues of him bleeding away into winter-white, into snow and ice, and the ominous whistle cuts off -- the daemons scream defiance even as they’re frozen and stilled and shattered into bright bits --

The boy, still wearing his feathers, and the violet of his magic singing high perilous on the cutting winds.