#shade writes

[shadexxxx]

Did I mention I posted a fic 🤔

https://archiveofourown.org/works/86598471

1.6k words of ethubs, fluff, sickfic (tentatively), rated GA, no archive warnings apply… you get it 🙂‍↕️

[kuriboo]

you and me makes one: chapter 4

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Chapters: 4

Words: 4,252

Fandom: In Stars And Time (Video Game)

Relationships: Loop & Siffrin (In Stars And Time), Bonnie & Isabeau & Loop & Mirabelle & Odile & Siffrin (In Stars And Time)

Characters: Siffrin (In Stars And Time), Loop (In Stars And Time), Odile (In Stars And Time), Mirabelle (In Stars And Time), Isabeau (In Stars And Time), Bonnie (In Stars And Time)

Additional Tags: Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Second Person, POV Third Person, Multiplicity/Plurality, Post-Canon, Spoilers for Two Hats Ending (In Stars And Time), (second person pov is siffrin. third person pov is loop)

Summary:

Loop said they didn't know what would happen to them after your fight. But they said they were sure they'll see you again someday. You had to believe that. You had to hold onto that. (When Loop said they might join Siffrin and become one, they didn't expect that to actually happen.)

link to ao3 in the notes

chapter 4 under the readmore

-

Your family was still taking shifts on watching over you while you recover. And after you and Bonbon finished eating, Odile came in and announced her shift was starting.

Bonbon made you promise you would eat more later, said their goodbyes, and waved as they left to get their own rest in.

You watched as Odile crossed the room. She sat down in a chair at the far corner, opened her book, and...stared at you.

You stared back. The two of you sat in silence, engaged in a mutual staring contest, until...

"I'm not good at this," Odile admitted. "You were asleep during my last shift, so all I had to do was wait to see if you woke up, but..." She rose a hand up to gesture vaguely. "Now you're awake. And I'm not good at taking care of people."

You looked away. "You don't have to do anything. I just need to rest."

Odile raised an eyebrow. "Ah, yes. Siffrin Nolastname, known for taking care of themself and accepting help from others, says they just need rest and I don't need to do anything. Clearly, I have no reason to worry."

You looked back up at her. The edge of her mouth turned up into a smile, and you couldn't help it. You laughed. You laughed, and she started to laugh, and everything felt...okay, for a moment.

But, despite the laughter the two of you just shared, Odile appeared...worried? "That wasn't too much, was it? If that was uncalled for, I—"

"It's fine." You smiled and gave her a thumbs up. "I've earned it."

She didn't look convinced, but she nodded before burrowing herself in her book for the moment.

That was...different. Odile didn't usually apologize after joking around like that. Suddenly, she was acting like you were...fragile. And, Bonbon, they were weird, too, weren't they? Like they weren't sure what to say to you, like they couldn't look you in the eye even, before...

Before...

Before asking you why you said you were Loop earlier.

"Uh, Odile..." You started off hesitantly, and Odile looked up. This felt really weird to ask about, but if anyone could help you get to the bottom of this, surely it was Odile, right? "Can I ask you something?"

"You already are."

"Right..." You stared up at the ceiling. Why did your head hurt all the sudden? "Um... Bonbon... They said that earlier I said I was Loop?"

Odile stayed silent.

"I know they wouldn't lie to me, but..." You look down at your hands, unsure how to say it. "...I don't remember saying something like that? I... I don't know what they're talking about."

You heard the sound of a book shutting. You felt a sharp gaze trained on you.

...The sweat plastered against your forehead... Was that the craft sickness, or from the anxiety?

Could Odile hear your heart beating within your chest?

(This heart that, you were still processing, wasn't rightfully yours at all, was it?)

"So you don't remember that conversation at all?"

Your heart skipped a beat; you weren't sure exactly what you were expecting Odile to say in response, but...that wasn't quite it. "So that conversation really happened?"

"Of course it did. Everyone was there for it, except you, apparently." Odile drummed her fingers against the cover of her book, one at a time. "You woke up, and when I spoke to you, you adamantly refused to be addressed as Siffrin. Just looking at your own hands was upsetting you. I got everyone else, and Mirabelle talked to you. You told her you weren't Siffrin. You called yourself Loop. And when asked how that happened, you said you didn't know. You didn't know, and you were crying, and you were shaking, and Mirabelle said you were probably overwhelmed. She asked the rest of us to leave the room and spoke alone with you. I haven't seen you since, until now, and Mirabelle told us the rest of that conversation was private."

(The painful pressure in your head was growing stronger.)

Grabbing the blanket over you for stability, you closed your eye. "Why did I say that?" The question was rhetorical; you knew neither you nor Odile had the answer. "Why did I talk like I was Loop?" You opened your eye again, and looked over at Odile. "Odile... Do you... Do you think I was just delirious from craft sickness? Or..."

"I've been puzzling over that myself," she said. Another drum of her fingers against the book cover, this time a bit slower. "I suppose delirium combined with amnesia from craft sickness isn't an impossibility."

You

did not know how to feel about that statement.

"However," she went on, "It's far from the only possibility. I won't say I've ever heard of a case of two people merging, but... It's still bothering me. The way you talked to me, to everyone... I've only known Loop for a day, but the way you spoke was identical."

You let out at confused hum. What was that supposed to mean?

"You wouldn't address any of us by name. You called me 'Researcher'."

...There were only two times you could currently remember Loop referring to your family with their actual names: once, when you forgot Mirabelle's name and begged Loop to remind you, and the other was when Loop tried to kill you.

Most of the time, when Loop talked about your family, they used titles for them. The Housemaiden, the Fighter, the Researcher, the Kid. And you were almost always stardust.

Swallowing, you confirmed, "Yeah, that's how Loop talks."

"As for an exact explanation? That requires more research." Another slow drum of her fingers. "Luckily, we are currently in a House of Change, and it doesn't hurt that we're the saviors of Vaugarde. Perhaps if I drag Isabeau with me to the library, the two of us can..."

"Can I come, too?"

She paused for a second. "You're recovering from craft sickness."

"Yeah, but... How am I supposed to rest if I don't know what's going on with me?"

(Your head throbbed with pain in response to your own question.)

"I..." Sighing, she looked away. "I'm not the proper person to judge your ability to look into this matter. I... That's a call for Mirabelle to make, I think, as our party's healer. If she says you can go to the library, it should be fine, but if not..."

...You may need to trust this matter to Odile and Isa after all.

Managing a nod, you agree. "We'll see what Mira says, then."

[shade-of-drou]

impulsively wrote just under 4k of something new when I saw the news today!

An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works

[shadeswift99]

Limited life.

Ooh, how spooky. Imagine! Only 24 hours to live! Imagine, that time just ticking away, being forced to watch it go, until your inevitable gristly end! Pieces of it being ripped away from you along the way, unexpectedly! The horror! The inevitability! The drama!

Cleo never understood the hype. After all, it was better than anything she got, all those years ago before she turned zombie. At least this time she could see it coming. Frankly, the idea was almost relaxing.

To her, anyway. She idly picked at a splinter on the handle of her axe as she watched Bdubs and Skizz circle each other in the matted grass ring. Of course there had been posturing - it was Bdubs and Skizz, after all - but when it came down to it neither of them seemed especially inclined to take the first shot. Skizz jittered forward, teeth bared in a snarl, but he skirted to the side last minute. Bdubs laughed and taunted, but he showed no signs of doing any better in the initiation department. Cleo smirked. Men. Boys, really.

They'd regret this, in the end. As the clock wore down and 00:00:00 became less of a vague idea and more a thing they could see bearing down on them, they'd curse their past selves for throwing away precious seconds for the sake of a grudge. Or maybe, they'd just be consumed by more bloodlust, scrambling to regain a fragment of the time they'd lost. It's fear, either way. And they'd come to it way too late to end up where Cleo already was, undead and long past seeing a ticking clock as any kind of worry. They'll all have wasted too much time on processing by then to see what's on the other side of that fear.

Freedom.

Imagine. You know when you're going to die. By exclusion, that means you know when you're not going to die. You know it's not tomorrow, or today, and those are guarantees you don't get anywhere else. So - what do you do? You burn a mansion. Hell, two if you feel like it. You bait Jimmy, you poke fun at Joel, you make alliances with everyone you can so they'll betray you sooner so you can get that out of the way so you can have more stuff to burn - it's fun, if you shake the nerves early. Ignorance is not bliss. Make friends with the idea that death is inevitable and give yourself the luxury of a farewell party you'll enjoy.

All the things she wished she'd done, when she was still alive. All the things she still probably wouldn't have done if she'd known.

Instead, she'd have just done this. Squander life on recklessness early on. Squander it on fear later.

Skizz circled Jimmy. Jimmy circled Skizz. The others looked on and cheered, while their clocks ticked silently on. Finally the two leapt at each other, shields thumping and armour sparking as diamond and metal and shouts rang loud. Cleo rolled her eyes.

She turned to dispatch a skeleton that crept up while the others were distracted. By the time she'd reduced the bones to dust, the fight was over. Skizz gloated. Bdubs grumbled. Cleo made all the right sympathetic sounds and faces.

She'd missed the end. It didn't matter. She'd already seen it.

[theramblingvoid]

A Furcation of Pathways

(Fallen London OC fic 3577 words)

You, an Over-Inquisitive Monster Hunter by the name of Dola Hallowrove, have decided to track down an illusive zee beast that nearly sank your zub on more than one occasion. Now, with the hunt a success, you get your long-awaited chance to investigate the creature and learn what secrets its body might be hiding in the depths. …The aftermath may prove to be a little more than what you bargained for, but, well. What else is new in London?

(Based off the Signs of Pursuit card from the Zailing opportunity deck and loosely inspired by the Teratomancy cards from monster hunter professional activities)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/46888936

[kaineshade]

Tell me, am I a coward towards my own feelings? Am I a coward to face them to be a better person?

—Me and Andreil, maybe

[kuriboo]

Rio Week Day 2: Shadows

Rio Week is hosted by @rioweek. If you're a fan of Yugioh Zexal, especially Rio Kamishiro, go check out the event!

⁂

Where Rio ended and Merag began was hard to say, sometimes. Their lives, memories, fates were tied together in a knot so tangled that no one could hope to pull them apart any time soon.

But for as long as Merag had lived the life Rio should have been able to, she felt like nothing more than a shadow.

A shadow of Nasch, perhaps. Because everything they did, they did either together or for each other. Yet, Nasch was always the one taking the lead. Nasch was the one that decided she needed revenge for being burned. Nasch was the one who decided to join the war on the side of the Barians. And when Rio had a shred of agency, all she found herself doing was...follow.

(When she first met Yuma, she'd been determined to be known for more than having a twin brother. Known for his accomplishements, downfalls, mannerisms. She wanted to be more than that? Yeah, right. What a joke.)

Or was she a shadow of Rio? Ever since finding out about her real identity, Merag couldn't stop wondering... What would Rio's life be like, were she still here? If she didn't die so long ago, with Merag stealing her identity like some kind of parasite? How would Rio have lived? What would Rio have done? And how would it compare to the life Merag had strung together for herself?

(When she compared herself to Rio, she couldn't help but think...that Rio could have done it better. Would have done it better. She wasn't just an imitation, she was a poor excuse for one.)

Or was she just...a shadow? Life kept pushing her down, forcing her to just take it and be glad she could still get up. And yet, no matter how hard Merag tried to live her own life, be her own person... Sometimes it was like she was just watching life go on without her. Days where chronic pain kept her from doing what she wanted to do. Days where the fatigue of multiple lives pulled her down too much to do what she should be doing. Days where she looked at the deck of cards that meant so much to her, and the memories that welled up were too painful for her to even touch them, let alone play the game she loved.

She didn't used to be like this. She wasn't supposed to turn into this.

Where did she go wrong?

How did this happen? And how did she figure out how to fix it?

[kuriboo]

Tears and Time

This was the end.

Euphrasie is supposed to be the one to defeat the King and save Vaugarde. Yet, it takes only one strike for her to lose.

(So, why did Euphrasie wake up to before the King's arrival? Why is she being given another chance?)

--

Chapter 1 Below the readmore! Link to ao3 in the comments!

The approach of the King

Far too slow, as if awaiting eternity.

Far too quick for any true preparations to be made.

She made every preparation she could think of. Lock every door, hide every key, set every trap. Even knowing it would be futile, she had to try. It was her duty, as the Head Housemaiden, to ensure the safety of the House and every Housemaiden within its walls.

(How could you possibly expect to stop the King when everyone else in the King's tearsoaked path had already succumbed to his curse?)

She even turned towards what the people of Dormont believed to be desperate superstitions. (Deep in her soul, you knew it was more.) The townsfolk asked favors of the Favor Tree, and she asked them each what they wished for.

Did enough people wish for salvation? Did anyone know the proper ritual to do so? Would the Favor Tree channel their wishes the way she hoped?

...When floating tears appeared on the edges of the town, she knew they were running out of time to find out any answers to any remaining questions. The King approached, and Dormont...no, Vaugarde was depending on her to stop him. Depending on her to save the country.

Save this country that...

That...

(...Huh? Oh...right. You're a Head Housemaiden, Euphrasie. Time to prove you're worthy of the title.)

Hands balled into fists, she stood in front of the King.

Trying to look and feel as intimidating as she can, she still feels powerless. Even with her taller than average stature, the King was practically a giant compared to her.

She doesn't know what to expect, she doesn't know what he's planning, but there's no other choice. No other option, but to stand here and fight.

The King seemed to be charging up an attack, which was fine by her. Calling upon her Craft, she stood strong, prepared for anything. (Your defense was boosted!)

One of the King's fists shifted to the side, letting a single eye of his peer down at her.

"...The curtain falls, Head Housemaiden."

(You see a vision of the future...)

She couldn't move. She couldn't see. She couldn't feel.

This was the end.

(How would you rather die, Euphraise? Frozen in time? Choking on your own blood?)

(You would rather die... In tears and ti—)

--

Blinking awake, she peeled herself off her desk. It looked like she fell asleep amidst her notes, studying for any chance of victory against the King while there was still time to prepare.

That...that dream? Was that a dream? Fighting against the King, being defeated in a single strike? It was so vivid, felt so real.

Even down to the final detail: the amount of pain she felt, facing her own death. Facing her own failure.

...

She looked down.

In her hands was a spreadsheet; a column of names, a row of wishes, showing who in Dormont had wished for salvation against the King. A spreadsheet of wishes brought to the Favor Tree.

It felt so familiar.

The smell of sugar danced in the air.

Before she could give anything another thought, her studies were interrupted by another Housemaiden entering her office. Claude, of course it was Claude. Offering a cup of tea and words of encouragement.

Always so thoughtful.

The longer the two spoke, however, the more Euphrasie realized—

They had already had this exact conversation in her dream. Down to the same joke that she made that made Claude snort with laughter in the way she loved.

She wasn't just tearfully frozen in time. She'd been sent backwards.