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usagi-mitsu-writes · 2 years
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The Old Guard - Chapter 3: Revenge of the Old Guard (Finish)
All you truly need is a good group of friends to live through the end of the world as you know it. People in power come and go. But as long as you and yours keep steady and straight, everything will be alright. The Black Wolf fails, an Alliance reunites and whatever has become of their legions. It must have been a cruel joke. But no. They simply watched their world burn. They just did not know, yet.
The Old Guard, Chapter 3: Revenge of the Old Guard
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usagi-mitsu-writes · 2 years
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Winter's Toil
The Speaker of the house of Lords is working far into the night once more. But even though he still has a good many things to do, he cannot help himself but think about those he loves.
Read on AO3.
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Winter's Toil
Five pages of report written in small, almost unreadable letters. Ten pages of the days minutes. Construction plans for the extension of Falcons Nest. A request for ishgardian craftsmen to support the renaturation of the coast of Werlyt.
His right wrist ached. Nothing new.
Signed. Corrected. Approved.
So far so good. Except for the strain in his shoulders. Nothing he had not experienced before. Sword practice could do this to a man, if practiced excessively. When had he last held a sword again?
The work he couldn’t finish at his office was finally done. A glance towards the clock told him it was about ten minutes before midnight. A second glance towards the left of his desk told him that there were at least two hours more of intensive reading, pondering, approving and rejecting.
Why was there sweat on his face?
He leaned back in his chair. There was a deep sigh somewhere in his chest, but he wouldn’t. Instead he reached for the next stack of papers. The muscles in his neck protested.
It would be another long night.
The next document was the appointment of the guards to Empyreon. Yes. He had asked Estinien to apply. A joke of course. And regrettably, the dragoon and newfound hero of the world had ignored the offer entirely. Unsurprising. But yet again, regrettably. Though, this was probably Estiniens polite way to say no.
It would have been nice to have him back in Ishgard. With Lucia in charge of the camp broken glass he felt perhaps the tiniest bit lonely. If it hadn’t been for his old burly cat and the steward, he would actually be lonely.
And with that his thoughts drifted back to her.It had been a while since they had talked to each other. Having her support in that last crisis had been a blessing. Her presence was always all too welcome. And before that..? When had she last visited… The construction of Empyreon perhaps. Oh… if he only could have watched her. From what he had heard, she had been working through even the most daunting of tasks with perseverance and a smile on her lips.
Her smile.
The simple thought of it brought one to his exhausted features, too. When she returned, he would need to ask her about her latest travels. But mostly about her journey to the stars and far beyond.
But for this moment it was high time he chose a few lucky souls to serve the people of Ishgard. The candle closest to him light the paper. The letters though were almost unrecognizable. Had the other documents been written with the lines so close to one another?
His feather dropped to the ground the moment he let go of the paper. And everything went black.
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A pair of cold hands on his face. Dampened voices, as if someone was talking into a pillow. Another pair of hands.
And darkness again.
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When Aymeric opened his eyes, he no longer sat at his desk. Someone had gotten him upstairs and partially undressed. Some embers still light the otherwise dark room. It took him a moment to realise he was in his bed.
He groaned and tried to shift to his side, but couldn’t. There was someone else. A rather warm someone. A someone with those hands-
“Go back to sleep,” her voice was nothing but a whisper, “it’s not morning yet.”
“You are back … since when-“
“Only a few hours ago. I found you sleeping at your desk again.”
“Right…” he rolled onto his back. There was still work to be done. He could sleep some more but if he were to wake up in a couple hours, he could finish everything and still be in time for the session.
The last thought sent a throbbing pain through the back of his head.
“Stay.” She was calm, but firm. “You have a slight fever and I already had your steward sent word to the house that you will not be available for a few days.” The woman playing his conscience rolled over to hug him around the waist.
“And if not for yourself, please stay here for me, yes? We could sleep some more and then catch up at breakfast.” She gently kissed his chin. “There are so many things I would tell you.”
The battle was over before Aymeric knew it. He had her wrapped in his arms only a second later to bestow a kiss of his own onto her hair.
“Thank you, love.”
“Always.”
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usagi-mitsu-writes · 3 years
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And I only now saw that I posted it on my main instead of here. :) But that's ok. So.... my try at FFXIVWrite2021 will be uploaded on my main and reblogged here. :D
Prompt #1: Foster
It is summer and everybody deserves a holiday. Especially Zhloe and her little family. But having to take care of two little girls can be just a little exhausting ...
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@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast // #FFXIVWrite2021
Prompt #1: Foster
“Can we go over there?”
“But it’s not time yet!”
“Come on – it will be here later, too!”
“You promised!”
“I lied!”
“Zhloe! Khloe is being mean! I want to see the pretty lights!”
It was late afternoon, almost the early evening. The air was hot because the sun had been burning down onto the planet like crazy. Which was why the sand the island consisted of was almost hot enough to almost sear the bottom of her feet. And now the little ones were fighting. Again. As if the uncountable times before had not been enough.
“It’s ok, T'kebbe,“ Zhloe inhaled deeply, before kneeling down to talk to the agitated girl, „the lights won’t be here until it is dark. Let us go and see what Khloe wishes to see, alright?“
The anticipated effect would have been two happy bundles of nothing but joy, rushing off to wherever they would find the next exciting thing to see – be it the floating balloon cradle, the food court or sand just right to build a castle with. To the foster home keepers chagrin though, the truth was entirely different.
“But you promised we would see the lights and I want to see the lights now!” The tiny miqo’te’s ears had turned down towards the sand. For a moment Zhloe swore she could almost see tears.
“And we will see the lights and I will keep my promise. But it’s not yet the time and-“
“Exactly,” Khloe announced. She crossed her arms and blew up her rosy cheeks. “So can we go now? I want to-“
“You want what? Are we throwing a tantrum again?”
There she was – her saviour in every way at this moment. Zhloe turned around. A smile broadened across her exhausted face the moment she realised her saviour had indeed arrived.
“Shia! By the gods – I am so glad you are here!”
Before her stood a familiar miqo’te: Long blonde hair, blue eyes and an almost bewildered expression to match. The warrior of light (or simply “Shia”, as Zhloe had gotten to know her), had exchanged her usual battle garb for a red haori and bikini bottoms. In her arms, she held four bowls of what looked like Haermaga’s newest creation – fresh and delicious-
“Costa del Hielo,” two high pitches voices screamed.
Khloe and T’kebbe rushed forward. Shia kneeled down, cautioning them with the face of a strict but loving governess. “Slowly, young ladies or you might spill all of it!”
Khloe licked her lips as she received a bowl with a slight green tint to its contents. “Is it lemon?”
“It is lemon.”
“What did you get me? Please?”
“Amarena, as you wished.”
And T’kebbe delightfully swallowed the first bite. Not a moment later, she clutched her eyes. “Ah! Brain freeze!”
The two little ones took their bowls to seek refuge in the shadows of a palm tree. The heat seemed to be getting to them now.
“I brought you something, too.” Shia held out another bowl, this one sprinkled with something yellow and edgy pieces of fruit.
The keeper of the orphanage slowly reached out to take it, arms shaking a tiny bit. It was-
“It’s pineapple, isn’t it?”
“It’s pineapple. You deserve it.”
And for the first time since arriving at Costa del Sol, it felt like a holiday for Zhloe Aliapoh.
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usagi-mitsu-writes · 3 years
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"Be careful, Ay-" she caught herself just before she could slip. "Lord Commander." It was the better choice to address him by his title now. For the both of them.
"You too." He gave a stern nod, his eyes not leaving his wounded comrade.
Shia rose back onto her feet. Her friends were waiting and she dared not leave all the fun to the annoyance of the day that was Estinien.
"I hope to see you on the other side."
G'Raha chanced a glance upon Shias face when she rushed by to take the lead once more. They would have a lot to discuss once they were back home.
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usagi-mitsu-writes · 3 years
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Haifisch - Of the One Who Went Out to Die.
If you felt responsible for the death of a whole world, wouldn't you too just want to die?
Please enjoy Haifisch - Of the One Who Went Out to Die. - below the cut or on AO3: Haifisch - Of the One Who Went Out to Die.
 We hold together,
 We stand each other,
 We hold to each other,
 no one is going to stop us.
His mind was calm, no thought disturbing the peace. He had fought hard to be at peace after all.
The beasts influence had lessened as it faced its foe. Giving it the power to control minds had been a terrible idea. Not his. But he had changed the concept accordingly. At the time it had seemed reasonable. And the Elidibus had proposed it after all. So, what could go wrong if the most brilliant mind in their midst was sure of their success?
A lot. Obviously. And if he let his mind float, he would probably feel that nagging guilt once more.
But could they have predicted this outcome? Perhaps. Had that stupid traitor Azem not turned on them.
Anger rose in his chest; the invisible tendrils of his master pulled once more, trying to regain their grip. If their experiment gone awry could concentrate just a tad bit better on him-
If. But it could not.
Zodiark was too occupied with Hydaelin; a creature of similar origin but different make, faced him. A creature created by their former allies with the sole purpose of destroying their savior.
What a laughable scenario. If he could allow himself to let go and have his emotions run free, he would have laughed. But instead, he let it pass, not even flinching.
A calm mind was a free mind.
And so Fandaniel sat atop the highest building of the residential district and watched his city burn. Soon even the steel bone structures of this construction would give in. Steel melting, plaster falling off the walls, stucco evaporating. The results of thousands of years of architecture, the pinnacle of art, the crown jewel of this very planet – reduced to ashes with no trace left. The legacy of a whole world wiped out within hours.
But it mattered not.
From dust we came and to dust we shall return.
If the Emet-Selch was right, there was a chance for them all to be reborn. If it was true, it would mean trouble. Hopefully, he would not have to suffer the memories of the place he chose to be his grave.
The heat from the burning city grew closer. The roaring of the flames slowly getting louder.
In the distance he could see Zodiark stumble backwards. His opponent had landed a strong hit.
And as Hydaelin pulled back for one last devastating blow, all he could do was smile.
This is the end. May we never meet again.
Blinding white light. A pressure wave. The scream of a defeated god. Silence.
What a beautiful end. Let the curtain close forever.
......
And I meant to keep them closed.
It was rather dark around him. The only sources of light were a few crystals on the sides. He wore tattered robes. These were not his. His had not been tattered. Ever. He had always kept them neat and clean – as custom in Amaurot.
But what was he thinking? He was just a farmer. This was just a dream. On the morrow he would have to talk to the magistrate and try to negotiate the terms of the farm. They wouldn’t just sell his grounds to another if he couldn’t pay right away, would they? They surely could wait another moon. Or two.
„This year’s harvest has been truly terrible, hasn’t it?“
He knew the voice. He even remembered the man it belonged to. But this did not make sense. How did he know him? How was he here?
„I am afraid this is not a dream, old friend.“
„I am not your friend and yes, this is not a dream,“ the farmer sneered, „it’s a nightmare. You must be a ghost from my long forgotten past. Kindly stay there and don’t disturb me any further. I have things to do tomorrow.“ He waved goodbye and pinched his eyes closed. He needed to wake up somehow.
A deep exhausted sigh from the other.
„Fandaniel. This is not a dream. We have awoken you from your slumber. The convocation-“
„To hell with the bloody convocation!“ The man formerly known as Fandaniel threw up his arms. „I am a farmer, and I would like to stay a farmer. Kindly send me back home.“
Elidibus finally emerged from the shadows around them. He too wore a robe close to what he had worn the last time they had seen each other. Though it was now decorated with golden elements and lilac wings on the back. A weird choice of decor, especially for one who had always been prim and proper about Amaurots dress code.
By the twelve-
How did he remember this detail? How was something like this in his head? What was that place he had just named twice?
Curse you Elidibus. Curse you and your tricks.
„You have not yet fully regained your memory it seems,“ the emissary held out a hand. His offering was a mask not unlike the one he wore himself, but with the ornaments of yet another station on it: the office of Fandaniel.  
It made the former farmer shiver.
„Take that thing away from me.“
„Why do you fight me so, old friend?“ Elidibus almost sounded sincere. „Have I given you cause to be distressed?“
A pause.
„Let me see what irks you so.“
Before Fandaniel could retreat any further a flood of memories hit him.
 The glory days of Amaurot. Discussions with the convocation.
Contentment. Happiness even.
 Followed by darkened skies. Falling rocks of molten stone. More discussions. A heated argument.
Anger. But mostly fury.
 The burning cityscape. Two monstrosities wrestling for superiority.
Consternation. Melancholy. And-
 „Guilt,“ the emissary concluded. „You realize you cannot outrun your feelings? The faster you try to flee, the harsher they will hit you when you decide to finally face them.“
„I do not mean to face them and I do not know what you are talking about.“ Not-quite-yet-Fandaniel raised his arms. „Have I not died and paid for my sins? Have I not begun my life anew as a new soul? A soul not stained by the blood on Fandaniels hands?“
„And yet these memories are there,“ the other argued, „hidden just beneath the surface. I did not need do dig deep, old friend.“
„I am not your friend. I do not care about Amaurot and your guilt, Elidibus! You seem stuck in a time long gone, hoping to bring back something that no longer exists. It’s folly! I on the other hand have made my peace with this fate before I died. Do you hear me?“ He lowered his head to glare at the other. „I am dead. I have paid for my sins. I no longer feel guilt or despair. I do not long for that time long gone. And now, if you would be so kind as to show me the exit? I have an important appointment in the morning.“ A lie or two.
But Elidibus did not show him the exit. He shook his head.
„Old friend… I see. I had hoped you would aid us in our cause, but it seems as that you are not ready to support what we are doing.“
The man supposedly at peace was about to give a snarky answer, when he felt something in the back of his head. It was a dull feeling. Something he had not felt in a long time. It was as if dark tendrils were creeping into his brain, slowly coiling around his thoughts, their touch darkening each and every one of them.
He had forgotten the one rule he had sworn to uphold: to keep himself in check. Emotions opened doors for things he did not want in his head.
But alas. It was too late.
„A pity,“ Elidibus voice grew distant, „I will have to monitor you closely from now on.“
As the dark fog of Zodiarks influence began to cloud Fandaniels judgement, all that was left was that last thought:
Why won’t you let me die.
......
Years came and went. Fandaniel did not notice.
He was too busy doing the dirty work together with some other, lesser ones of his kind. If his conscience had been intact he would have made a show of how much he hated being undervalued like this – he had been a member of the convocation after all. Even Mitron and Loghrif would be left to their own devices to do whatever it was their three leaders wished to achieve. And of course: Lahabrea gave his dear Igeyorhm a special treatment. What a surprise.
It at least seemed as if all of them were still the same as they had been before the destruction of Amaurot. If he could have held a clear thought, Fandaniel would have called them hubristic.
But Fandaniel did not have the capacity to care. Zodiark and Elidibus dulled his senses. He fulfilled his work dutifully, yes. But he did not think.
Luckily, their influence also dulled the nagging feeling Elidibus had called guilt. Was it survivors’ guilt? It could not be. He had died, hadn’t he? Or was it because he had helped to forge their slaver? A dull mind could not come to a conclusion.
 He would not truly think again until many years later. It was a warm summer night in a far-off corner of the source.
The stars began to sparkle differently for the first time since his arrival. The clouds in his head seemed to have lifted. Breathing was so much easier all the sudden and he was aware of the pumping heart in the chest that wasn’t his own.
The beast tribe he had been teaching summoning looked up curiously as he took off his mask.
„So the old geezer is finally gone.“
He smiled. Genuinely.
And burst out laughing.
Those around him must have been scared as they took a few steps back.
He did not care. He was free. Finally free.
This was his chance to do what he had wanted to do for so so very long. There still was that nagging feeling in the back of his head. Zodiark was still there, too. He couldn’t truly shake his influence after all. But he hadn’t taken over again, even though Fandaniel had allowed himself to feel. A start. But straight up killing himself  - he would need to see what he could do about it now.
„No matter…“ he spoke out loud, hearing his voice through the mouth of the vessel Elidibus had given him. He’d need a better one. Perhaps a stop by their flesh closet was in order. But then-
„It is finally time for me to die … when I see them again, I must make sure to ask the Paragons if my plan still counts as murder-suicide or if it would be considered straight up genocide already. They always loved their philosophical questions and moral conundrums!“ Another hearty laugh escaped his lips.
„Lord Fandaniel? What are you talking about-“
Oh. Right. The mites. How could he forget.
„I would not worry myself about it,“ he declared with a big smile, „the end of the world is upon us! Use what’s left of your time wisely.“
And with that he vanished into the aether. There was work to be done. But after that? He would finally rest and never remember his greatest disgrace again.
 And the shark, it has tears
 And they run down its face,
 but the shark is living in water -
 so the tears one doesn't see.
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usagi-mitsu-writes · 3 years
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The Old Guard - Chapter 2: A Garlean Evening (in the Capital)
A country is a living, breathing thing. It evolves with time. Usually though, not as rapidly. But with a mighty military at it's hand, the Garlean empire conquered province after province. Fifteen years later, it now streched from the Ruby Sea in the east to the borders of the Black Shroud. And while the world around them kept on evolving, developing; they stayed the same. Or at least, they hoped. 't was the night of an old friends return. Another night of drinks and enrichment of the other kind. And the night of grave loss.
The Old Guard, Chapter 2: A Garlean Evening (in the Capital)
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usagi-mitsu-writes · 3 years
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The Old Guard - Chapter 1: Once Upon a Time in Garlemald
Garlemald. A country born from war and as such it held it's military officers in the highest of regards. There was no job more prestigious than being a soldier and if luck was with one, they would advance into a commanding station, earning pomp and circumstance for themselves and their family. And if necessary, they would pay the price in blood and lifes. Sometimes even their own. But what use had a nation of conquerors for those who were no longer fit to serve? What was left for those who had weathered the throes of war, but lived? What was left for those, who had to return home in what everyone would only ever call dishonour? There was a place of course. And in one of the highest towers of the capitals old city center did they try to find their peace ...
The Old Guard, Chapter 1: Once Upon a Time in Garlemald
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usagi-mitsu-writes · 3 years
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Prompt #30: Splinter
Slightly NSFW. VERY slightly.
@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast //   #FFXIVwrite2020     
Prompt #30: Splinter
The Firmament was coming along nicely and Shia was up high on a new truss, making sure all the nails were in all the right places.
Down at the ground, her old-new lover was trying his best to help her. But he wasn’t as skilled with the hammer as he was with magic and allag. He had offered to mobilize old Allagan technology to help out with the efforts – something he was clearly eager to do, since his own hands did not seem to eager to actually put the work and effort in
But she had asked him not to. Had asked him to at least try using his own two hands.
And exactly that was what had her quickly jump down from wooden beam to wooden beam and onto the ground.
There he stood, the ears drooping down as his miserable eyes gazed at his bloody finger.
She could only smile. With her left, she held his hurting hand, with the other, she pushed his the red strands from his face to kiss his forehead.
“It’s ok,” she assured him. Her breath on her finger left a tingling sensation on his skin. “It’s just a splinter.”
And before he could say anything to stop her, she had cleaned off the blood with a cloth and stuck his thumb into her outh. Gently sucking, she got rid of the infernal wooden nuisance, spitting it to the ground.
“There you go. All better.”
But for once, the nosy young brat. The Crystal Exarch. The newest Scion. For once all he could was stare, his face the colour of a tomato.
Oh dear.
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usagi-mitsu-writes · 3 years
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Prompt #29: Paternal
A bittersweet continuation for my latest chapter of my Shadowbringers-Romance Never Ending Story.
@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast //   #FFXIVwrite2020    
Prompt #29: Paternal
They were still sitting on top of the mountain when the sun rose further up into the sky. Shia had finished up some of the fruits while G’Raha was nibbling on the last sandwich.
“Can I ask you something..?” Shias voice was timid, as if she didn’t wish too destroy the mood.
“Anything.” The reply came quickly.
“I know that it’s the Allagan eye but…” and she slowly lifted her eyes towards his, “but where did you get it from?”
He was silent for just a moment.
“I inherited it from my Papa.”
“Your-“
“Dad, in Eorzean,” he smiled and ruffled her short blonde hair.
“Oh… so.. where is he now..? You don’t have to talk about it of course, if you don’t want to…”
G’Raha leaned against her. After a few moments, he spoke again. “I don’t know. The last time I saw him was when I was finally allowed too leave for Baldesion. That was years ago. I like to think that he is doing quite well.”
He gave a careful kiss to the top of her head.
“Where is your family?”
“… I don’t know. I was raised by my brother, you know.” There was a melancholy in Shia’s voice that G’Raha could not quite place. “I never new either my mother nor my father. But they must have had differently coloured eyes,” she explained, “my brother has- had blonde hair such as I. But green eyes. So… yeah.”
“… had? Did something happen to him?”
“I don’t know,” and suddenly the mountain range seemed even vaster and empty. “I last saw him before the Calamity. We lived in Vylbandt and I insisted on joining the Maelstrom to fight of Garlemald. He did not want me to go. We fought about it. And I just … I left. And when I returned, our house was destroyed. One of the blasts from that stupid wyrms attacks had demolished it.”
“I’m sorry.”
“So am I.”
And for the first time since arriving, the suns gentle rays felt cold.
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usagi-mitsu-writes · 3 years
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Prompt #28: Irenic
#when you have no idea what the word actually means
@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast //   #FFXIVwrite2020  
Prompt #28: Irenic
 A thin stream of rain had dissolved the usually dry dirt of Mor Dhona into a horrible mud field. Everyone at Saint Coinach’s find was running around, trying to get precious cargo up to higher ground, before it could be damaged by all the water and soil.
Well. Everyone but two people. One of them, a more recent addition, was trying his best to get some space between himself and his pursuer, a temporary helping hand at the camp.
G’Raha was running as fast as he could, fumbling his bow. When he had first taunted her in the Twelves Wood, he had had the upper hand – she had neither seen nor gotten close to him back then. But now? Now she knew him. Knew his cursed red hair and his skills and his favourite tactics.
“Come on G’Raha,” she taunted, gaining ground on him with a quick sprint, “I thought you wished to spar! Spar with me!” And she twirled her lance around with a playful smirk on her lips.
“Not like this, you maniac.” He regretted having said the words the moment they left his lips. His breathing had just slowed again after having to run up a hill and talking got his lungs all confused once more
“What was that?!”
And she had the audacity to pretend she didn’t hear him. That madwoman.
“I don’t mind me,” she continued “I’ll just close the gap, if you don’t mind!”
She wants to what? Close the-
G’Raha couldn’t even think the thought to it’s end before he literally ran into a hard leather chest piece and got knocked onto his bottom, straight into the mud.
Shia stood right in front of him, the aether from her jump slowly dissipating around her.
“Are you ok?” She held out a hand, but he just stared up at her.
“I think I’ll pass the next time you ask me to spar.”
“What? Have you suddenly lost your appetite for battle..?”
“Maybe,” he grumbled, getting up on his own, “I think I’ll just become a pacifist.”
“A what?”
And there it was – a sparring match he was sure to win.
“You know,” G’Raha suppressed a grin, “irenic.”
Shia only stared.
“I hate you. You know that right?”
“You don’t.”
“Stop teasing me and fight! You wanted to spar! But you cannot win and now you are what? Giving up? Trying to vex me?”
“Is it working?”
“YES!”
And the whole camp side heard it as the Warrior of Light shamelessly taught their most respected scholar her most favourite collection of colourful eorzean swears.
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usagi-mitsu-writes · 3 years
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The director of cybersecurity from the Electronic Freedom Foundation is offering to help women who have been threatened with compromise of their devices.
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usagi-mitsu-writes · 3 years
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Prompt #22: Argy-Bargy
........... this September is the freaking worst for writing. 
Prompt #22: Argy-Bargy
They were sitting at the same table. Long white hair as always captured in matching styles. They had not spoken a word for hours.
“Do you think they will make up again,” Thancred whispered to Y’Shtola. Both of them had been observing the twins since the morning.
“Oh don’t worry,” the Lady of the boom assured him, “it’s just an argy-bargy. Nothing more.”
And sure enough: Come nightfall the two of them were the same as they had always been. But from then on, they kept their hairpins in separate boxes.
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usagi-mitsu-writes · 4 years
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Prompt #26: When Pigs Fly
Prompt 26: When Pigs Fly
“Are we there yet?”
“No.”
“Are we there yet?”
“No.”
“Are we-“
“Seven hells, will you shut up?!”
Shia stomped her foot onto the break. The glider stopped with a loud screeching sound, while the people within got whirled around. The girl with strawberry blonde hair held tightly onto her seatbelt, while her black haired companion fell onto the floor of the vehicle and kissed the dirty ground.
“Why the hell did you do that,” Gaia hissed and rubbed her slightly bloody nose.
“Because you won’t shut up,” Shia turned around in the drivers seat to grill the teen with her angry stare, “you said you wanted to see the pixies and Il Mheg but all you have contributed to this trip so far are annoying questions and bad mood for everyone! We are almost there! Do you perhaps think you can sit there and be quiet for 20 more minutes?!”
“… 20 more minutes my ass,” the girl grumbled. She slowly got back up, brushing the dust of her skirt.
“Seatbelt, Gaia!”
“You are not my mother,” she replied, but closed it nonetheless. One encounter with the floor was seemingly enough for once.
The vehicle slowly sped up again and about five minutes into the silene, Ryne raised her voice.
“You know… Il Mheg is beautiful and the pixies are very pretty too. And mischivious. They kept the twins busy for a whole day once and uncle Urianger had to riddle with them for seven days before-“
“I don’t care, Ryne,” came Gaias response. “This is probably just going to be some really boring place with lot’s of rude people in it and-“
But she never got to finish her sentence.
A huge pink lumb of something came crashing down right into the one empty seat of the Skyslipper. It wiggled around and had Gaia almost jumping out of her seat, while Ryne laughed happily.
“What in the bloody hells is that thing,” one very uncomfortable goth kid asked, trying to escape her seat.
“That would be a Porxie,” Ryne explained. She leaned over to help the smaller creature back onto its feet.
“Wasn’t it you who said something along the lines of ‘I believe in fairies when pigs fly’,” Shia laughed at the front, “well, enjoy some actually flying pigs! Welcome to Il Mheg!”
And right there before them the pink and green vistas of the fairy kingdom unfolded.
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usagi-mitsu-writes · 4 years
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Prompt #25: Wish
@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast //   #FFXIVwrite2020  
Prompt #25: Wish
I wish… to see you all again.
I wish… to be by your side again. To fight alongside you again.
I wish… to find the dawn after this long night.
I wish… to bring you peace.
I wish… to protect you.
I wish… to bring you happiness.
I wish… to go home.
I wish… to end this pain.
I wish… to be at peace.
I wish… to rest. Finally.
Shia was still awake in her bed in the Rising Stones. She turned from one side to the other. Sleep just didn't seem to be in the cards for her. Instead, whenever she tried to close her eyes, flashes of her most recent… adventures kept her awake: burning ceruleum. Exploding. War machine. Alisaie on the ground, unconscious. The meeting with the emperor. Alphinaud seemingly asleep in the enemies arms.
She turned again and again, until she she rose back up, walked over to her desk. A fresh piece of paper. Black ink and a writing feather.
And she wrote down all her wishes.
When she was done, she started at it. The clock on the wall rang. Four in the morning.
It was late.
Perhaps…. She could sleep now.
Perhaps.
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usagi-mitsu-writes · 4 years
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Prompt #24: Beam
It’s Friday night and I finally got something onto paper again. Like.. really! :D
@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast //   #FFXIVwrite2020  
Prompt #24: Beam
It was just them.
Just … them.
The candles lighting the Rising Stones were flickering, slowly dying from having burned so long. The celebration had begun in the early evening.
Krile had proposed the gathering. To celebrate everyone’s return and (finally) their full recovery from the ordeal. To celebrate them being in full control of their bodies once more and not in danger of dying or vanishing. And thorough training saw the Scions quickly return to their former bodily fitness. None of them was happier than Alisaie, who had been working out tirelessly, motivating the others to join her whenever they felt they were healthy enough
But they had especially celebrated the enormous progress of the – now once again – young man, who had slept inside an old Allagan relic for the better part of a year. A young man who had safed, protected and supported them on their most dangerous mission yet and who had awoke only a few minutes after the Scions. A young man who had been fighting myatrophy far worse than what they had to deal with.
A young man who had done nothing but swirl and twirl their dearest friend across the room for the whole evening.
Shia and G’Raha were dancing. Dress and shirt swaying with their movement, bushy tails winding around each other, never not touching. Two huge smiles just beaming at each other.
At first, others had been dancing with them to the tune of a quick fiddle, played by their dear friend Coultenet. Nobody had payed them much mind then. But when the music slowed and most of the others had to sit down to catch their breath and drink something… they were still turning round and round.
And even now, hours later, they were still on the dance floor.
Arm in arm, cheek to cheek.
Eyes closed, just listening to each others breath.
The fiddle had been exchanged for the orchestrion at some point.
And as a soft song was gently playing the night out, the two lovers still held each other.
Holding on. With the silent promise in the room, never to let go again.
The book of love is long and boring. No one can lift the damn thing. It's full of charts and facts and figures. And instructions for dancing
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usagi-mitsu-writes · 4 years
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Prompt #23: Shuffle
My head is empty.
@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast //   #FFXIVwrite2020
Prompt #23: Shuffle
The planks creaked. The tables jumped. And the barkeeper of the drowning wench kept on polishing the big stein in his glass.
All the while his taverns guests were on fire.
They were jumping, dancing. Some on the tables, most on the ground. Whatever had been built beneath or around the tavern was partying just the same as they were – not out of their own volition though. But that’s what you get when you carve your city into almost hollow rock and only use wood as insulation.
Well.
Not that any pirate ever disagreed with a good dance party anyways.
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usagi-mitsu-writes · 4 years
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Prompt #21: Foibles
haaaaaaaaaaaaa
@sea-wolf-coast-to-coast // #FFXIVwrite2020 
Prompt #21: Foibles
She was sitting down in her favourite chair. Well, actually less sitting and more slouching about. In her hands she held a book. But instead of devouring all it’s contents, she contently looked at one of its colourful illustrations depicting knights in blue, white and gold.
That was, until a booming voice scared her out of the chair and into a defensive stance.
“Whose there?! What do you want?!” She asked whoever had deemed it wise to shock her into dropping a priceless tome onto the cold harsh ground of the Rising Stones.
But whoever it was, they were not remotely impressed.
It didn’t even take a second for them to burst out into agonizingly loud laughter.
“That’s not funny,” Shia yelled and turned towards the offender.
“Oh is it now,” G’Raha had tears in his eyes. He was trying to take a breath, but burst out into laughter right away again.
The Warrior of Light picked the book up she dropped. It had fallen straight onto one of it’s pages and now had a dog-ear in the top right.
“You are being mean,” she accused, trying to neaten the page.
“Am I now,” he grinned and finally regained his composure, “you were supposed to study, you know.”
“I was studying.”
“Really?” She didn’t need to see him – she could hear his raised eyebrows.
“Yes, I learned all about the… uhm,” Shia checked the front of the tome, “the Autumn War.”
“Well, good! So if you haven’t been procrastinating, do tell me when it started and who the offending parties were.”
She blinked, closed her eyes, opened them again, tapped the book and bit her lip.
“… the Holy See of Ishgard was involved…?”
“That’s what you saw on the picture, didn’t you?”
“…”
G’Raha sighed.
“It’s ok. Let’s go study together. It’s more fun that way.”
Shia smiled, “… ok.”
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