#obiyukibingo23

[onedivinemisfit]

*moonlight densetsu playing here*

For my Free Space on my bingo board, some Sailor Moon!AU 🌙 and a screenshot redraw to boot! This was. Omigosh so fun. 90s aesthetics, can’t best em

AnS: Akizuki Sorata

Art: Me

#obiyukibingo23 #akagami no shirayukihime #ans #snow white with the red hair #obiyuki #shirayuki #obi #myart #sailor moon au #sailor shirayuki #screenshot redraw #zen wistalia #dark kingdom general obi #tuxedo kamen zen

[social-mockingbird]

sunlight eyes

(an Obiyuki Cowboy Bebop AU)

obiyuki bingo 2023, yeehaw! this is my first time participating, and I’m really excited to see all of the entries and post my own! this particular fic is based on the finale of cowboy bebop (with some changes, obviously) because apparently I like sadness. it was hilarious to see the similarities between the two shows: namely the existentialism and tendency towards poetic monologues, except it’s hopeful in AnS and sad in CBB. go figure. enjoy!

________

Zen’s eyes were dead before the rest of him was, and he was pointing a gun at her.

“You didn’t come because of the rain?” Her hands were in her pockets in a deliberate act of nonchalance. They were also the only part of her that was shaking.

“I was supposed to kill you,” Zen said, steady in his aim. “That day, if I had killed you, I would have been free.”

“So why didn’t you?” Shirayuki could feel her composure slipping. Zen’s eyes were so dark, devoid of anything human. Once they’d been brighter than the summer skies. She’d lain under their gaze and flown. “Why did you choose to be chased, Zen, it doesn’t make sense.”

“Why did you love me?”

“What?”

The gun was rattling. “Why did you love me?”

Shirayuki couldn’t breathe. She’d waited for him that day, waited and let herself cry, letting the thunder mingle with her sobs, and she’d wondered then if there had ever been any love in his eyes, or if it was just the thrill of illegality. She’d been poisoned by him. She’d fallen in love with an illusion, and now she was terrified of waking up.

Zen had put down his gun. His hands were on her shoulders. He was embracing her, fingers in her hair, breath on her neck. She couldn’t move a muscle.

“Let’s just run away somewhere,” Zen said in her ear, and his voice was warm on her skin. “Just the two of us. Escape this world—go where no one else is. Fly away with me, Shirayuki. Please. It’ll be like a dream.”

Something deep in Shirayuki’s chest snapped. She could feel her feet on the ground, solid on the wet gravel. She could feel how his hands were clenched behind her back, not touching her despite his loving embrace. He was almost falling into her, heavy, trapping her in place.

And yet, if she opened her mouth, she knew she’d say yes. ___

There was a time when the smoke would have bothered her lungs, when she would have hated the acrid taste on her tongue, when she would have stolen the smokes from her friends’ fingers and crushed them under her boots. Shirayuki had been a healer, and she’d believed in the sanctity of the body.

But now she breathed in the nicotine with a straight face, reveling in the calm it brought her thudding heart.

The year was 2071, and it was always raining. Someone poked her arm.

“Thinking too much, cowgirl?”

“Not thinking at all.” White hair in an arc of blood. Birds like reapers carrying his soul away in their wake. Blue eyes turning to glass.

“Then what’s that frown for?”

“Obi, stop.” Shirayuki dodged his prodding finger, almost stepping out from under the wing of the ship into the pouring rain.

It was raining then, too. Hazy like a nightmare.

In response, Obi slung a blanket over her shoulders. His hands were warm even through the fabric. He never could seem to lash back out at her. 

“You’ll catch a cold like that,” he said, grinning as Shirayuki fumbled with the blanket and draped it over her arms like a cape. “Mitsuhide’s making breakfast.”

“Eggs again?”

“It’s all we’ve got, so don’t complain,” Mitsuhide yelled from somewhere inside the ship. How he’d heard Shirayuki from that far was a mystery. Maybe he was running on autopilot.

Obi’s skin had the same greyish shadow as Shirayuki’s did in the overcast light, but there was still a rosy undertone to his face that hadn’t been there in a long time. She’d never admit it did her good to see some color in his cheeks. Obi had been fresh out of snark and sarcasm lately since his last impromptu trip, and it had bothered her more than she’d like to admit to see him looking so serious.

“I’m not going to leave again,” Obi said quietly.

“Huh?” Shirayuki turned, finally looking him in the eye. Gold was so different than blue.

“My memory came back.”

Shirayuki blinked. “I thought it wasn’t going to. Obi, you hit your head so hard.”

Blood on the pavement, blood on her hands. She’d screamed his name when he wouldn’t wake up. That day he’d promised to tell her where he was going every time he left—and for someone so secretive, he’d never broken that promise.

“Nothing good came of it,” Obi laughed, bitterness on his tongue. “There was nowhere for me to return to. Torou’s long gone. I can never be Nanaki again. This—you were the only thing I could return to.”

“Obi, wait—”

“Let me finish, please.” Obi, usually so deferent to her, was facing her with thunder in his eyes. Shirayuki closed her mouth.

���You’re leaving. I can see it in your eyes. That mess with Zen and with Izana is getting to you, and you’re going to leave, and knowing you, you’re going to do it when I can’t go after you.”

Shirayuki dropped the cigarette to the ground and crushed it under her boot to avoid looking at him.

“You’re going to do something hopelessly noble and horrifically stupid and I—Shirayuki, I can’t lose you.”

“You wouldn’t be losing me, Obi, I’m not going there to die.”

“Zen’s gone,” Obi said quietly. “Isn’t he?”

He was falling like a trapeze artist without a net, boots sliding on the rain-slick rooftop. She’d felt something tear in her throat when she screamed and she scraped her hands and knees when she fell beside him, cradling his body in her arms, hoping there was still light in his eyes, shaking him, praying. Why couldn’t she stop crying?

“Izana’s men killed him,” Shirayuki was able to say, wondering vaguely why her cheeks were wet. “I have to go after him. He can’t keep doing this to people, it’s not right. He killed his own brother because of me.” “This is…a dream?”

Zen pulled her close, blood-spattered hands clutching her lapels. He was so heavy in her arms.

She hated herself for lying to Obi. There was nothing noble about what she planned to do. Izana had killed Zen, and there was a hole in her heart that needed fixing.

His gaze was far away, and he was smiling, looking through her.

“Yeah,” she’d choked. “Just a dream.”

There was one other thing she couldn’t tell Obi. She prayed he couldn’t see it in her face.

“Food’s getting cold,” Mitsuhide shouted from inside, and Shirayuki got caught up in racing Obi for breakfast, glad she didn’t have to keep fielding his questions. There would be time enough to answer all of his questions if she was right. And if she wasn’t, well…he could find the answers on his own.

____

It was quiet on the ship when Shirayuki left her room. They were drifting gently through space, sleeping with the stars, and she took advantage of the silence, sneaking to the dock. The tiny exploration ship sagged a bit, but it would do.

She heard the click before Obi stepped out of the darkness, pointing his pistol at her.

“Where are you going?”

Shirayuki lifted her hands, pivoting to face him. She hadn’t noticed him in the shadows.

“Where are you going?” Obi repeated. He was close to her now, gun lowered to her belly. She knew it was just a way to get her to talk. He’d told her the day he boarded the Bebop that hurting her was never something he planned to do. She’d taken it as a joke then, but he’d kept his promise. Obi never seemed to break his word. Unlike her.

“You told me once,” Obi said, resting the gun gently against Shirayuki’s stomach, flicking the safety on, “that the past didn’t matter.”

“I don’t care what your real name is,” Shirayuki had grumbled, the softness of her hands contrasting with her sharp tone. “I don’t care what you did before. Can you just stop letting your past rule you? It doesn’t matter. In the end it’s just a stepping stone. And no one dwells on those.”

Obi looked at the girl bandaging his arm, feeling her warm fingers on his skin, and wondered why there were tears standing in her eyes.

Shirayuki nodded.

“Then why are you so tied to yours?” Obi had lowered the gun now, and was almost leaning into her space, nose inches from hers.

“I’m not,” she protested. “I have to go, Obi, please—”

Obi grabbed her arms, not hurting her, but keeping her in place. “I never thought I’d see the day you went for revenge, Shirayuki. If I know you, that’s not what this is, despite what you want me to think. Please don’t lie to me.”

Why had she loved Zen so much?

“You’re right, it’s not for revenge.” Shirayuki was desperate now. She could feel her heart beating, her pulse picking up, and it was getting harder to tamp down. “I have to go, Obi, I have to see if-if he really loved me and if I loved him and if it was worth it.” She broke his gaze and looked at her feet. “I have to see if he’s worth dying for.” Her voice was too shaky and quiet for her liking. “He decided I was and I want to return the favor.”

Obi felt cold. “You—that’s not something you repay, Shirayuki. Death doesn’t have to be life for life, especially when the person who died for you didn’t really love you in the first place.”

That’s what Obi wanted to say. He wanted to shake Shirayuki, wanted to tell her that she shouldn’t throw her life away. That Zen had loved the game of her hatred for Izana more than he’d loved her. That he’d loved defying Izana by being with her. That Zen died because Izana didn’t forgive betrayal, and his revenge was vicious. Obi knew enough after talking to Mitsuhide, and everything else he’d figured out on his own.

But he didn’t.

Obi instead put his hands on Shirayuki’s shoulders and pulled her into his arms.

Weightless on his feet, sunlight in his eyes. Obi was light in every sense of the word.

Shirayuki snaked her fingers around Obi’s waist, burying her face in his neck. It was all she could do. It hurt to hold him but she wasn’t letting go.

When he put his hands on her shoulders, she didn’t feel like she was being weighed down, only filled up. “This isn’t something you solve by dying,” Obi said in her ear. “You’re gonna carry that weight of feeling like you don’t understand and don’t deserve someone’s sacrifice, and that’s okay. He wanted you to live, Shirayuki—I want you to live.” Obi held her tighter. “And if that means carrying the weight with you, say the word. But please don’t go down this path. Don’t die for someone who doesn’t deserve you.”

Shirayuki stiffened and Obi was terrified she’d been offended.

“I’m not going there to die, Obi,” she said, almost too quietly for him to hear. She slid her hands up his back, over the planes of his shoulders. Obi shivered, just a little. “I’m going there to find out if I’m really alive.”

Obi leaned back and looked her in the eyes.

“Well, now, if that isn’t the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard,” he said, laughing a little, raising an eyebrow, and then Shirayuki was pulling him forward with her hands in his hair, and Obi couldn’t remember anything else he’d planned to say because Shirayuki’s mouth was the softest thing he’d ever tasted. She kissed him long and sweet, letting him hold her waist and press into her, and Obi tried his hardest not to think about how much this felt like a goodbye.

Shirayuki pulled back first, hands gentle on the back of Obi’s neck, a little dazed. She hadn’t really thought before kissing Obi and now she couldn’t think at all.

Why had she loved Zen?

Obi was leaning down, chasing her mouth, and she tilted up into him, closing her eyes. She felt tears on her cheeks and realized they weren’t hers, and her hands went to Obi’s face, cupped his jaw, wiped his tears with her thumbs. Zen kissed her like a guilty man and held her like a dragon.

Obi was oh-so-gently stroking her sides with his thumbs, and through his tears was able to smile into her mouth when it made her gasp.

Obi made her feel like she was flying, and like she’d have somewhere to land.

Obi said her name and ran a hand into her hair.

It was so hard to figure out why she’d loved Zen.

Resting her head on his shoulder, reveling in his warmth, Shirayuki felt safe and contented. It was so easy to love Obi. “I’ve never carried anything, Obi,” Shirayuki said, under her breath, half-hoping he couldn’t hear. “Not really. Not with you around.”

She hadn’t loved Zen. She couldn’t. Not really.

She was never meant to.

“Then don’t. Live with me.”

Shirayuki pressed her lips to his cheeks, one after the other, kissing away the still-present tears.

“I still have to fight Izana,” she told him, and Obi nodded once.

“Don’t you dare do it without me.”

____

The elevator door opened and Shirayuki charged out, red hair and a spray of bullets, and Izana’s men dropped like dolls onto the slick linoleum. The main doors opened when she slammed into them, driving her shoulder into the curving floral dragons that embossed the wood. The roof exploded. Shirayuki flung up her arms and dove for the ground, debris raining down on her from above. She could hear Izana’s footsteps on the great stairs at the front of the room. She stood and shook herself, ears ringing, as Izana descended under the newly revealed night sky.

“I told you before, Shirayuki,” Izana said, pulling two silver katanas from a sheath on his back, “Zen’s death meant yours was next.”

“And if I return the favor?”

Clack-clack-clack went her pistol as she reloaded it. Izana quirked a brow.

“Either way, Zen doomed you to die. This was your destiny from the beginning.”

“Zen’s death has nothing to do with me anymore.” Shirayuki took aim, closed an eye. “Let’s end it all.”

“As you wish.”

She moved before he did, boots clattering halfway up the stairwell, bullets clashing with Izana’s blades. Shirayuki swooped under, shooting a katana out of Izana’s hand as he swiped at her, slicing her thigh, her side. Izana’s hand came down on her gun as hers grasped the handle of his sword, and they were locked, arms shuddering as they fought for control.

“You don’t control me,” Shirayuki growled. “You never did.”

Izana stepped back suddenly, reclaiming his sword, pushing her gun back into her hands.

“Then show me.”

Izana’s sword was a silver arc spinning towards her gut, and Shirayuki fired, knowing she wouldn’t be able to get out of the way, watching the bullet gleam, dreamlike, watching it find the mark.

Izana fell.

His sword stopped inches from her stomach.

Obi was holding the blade of the katana in a gloved hand, turning it in the air, flinging it far. His fingers were cut and bleeding and they were both alive.

Izana coughed, once, and quit breathing.

Then Obi was wrapped around her and Shirayuki went limp in his arms. ____

The first rays of dawn made the courtyard blindingly bright. Izana’s men watched the figure stagger out from the wreckage, raising guns and swords.

Obi set Shirayuki down and kissed her cheek, lowering his stance, prepared to run. He was holding Izana’s swords. Shirayuki raised her arm, pointing at Izana’s men, fingers in the shape of a gun. The smile came easily to her face now. It was so easy to smile when there was nothing weighing you down.

“Bang.”

And they charged.

--------

@snowwhite-andtheknight

#obiyukibingo23 #obiyuki #snow white with the red hair #akagami no shirayukihime #ans #obi #shirayuki #zen wistalia #izana wistalia #vera writes #cowboy bebop au #angst #overuse of italics #by writing this fic I was finally able to figure out some elements of the cowboy bebop finale I didn't understand #also I loved the idea of shirayuki being spike because it just made more sense #zen ended up being the bad guy sorta which is sad but also I need to let the obiyuki good times roll ya know #my first obiyuki bingo post!

[snowwhite-andtheknight]

Obiyuki AU Bingo 2023 Master Post

After six weeks, Obiyuki Au Bingo has CLOSED! Although all our challenges at the comm are not competitive, we like to have a few fun stats to close out the end of bingo:

Highest Scorer (each square 1pt, bingo 5pts, blackout 25pts): @onedivinemisfit (14 points, 1 bingo & 9 squares)

Runner Up: @writing-my-mind-ink​ (13 points, 1 bingo & 8 squares)

Most Spaces Filled (outside blackouts): @onedivinemisfit​ (9 squares)

Number of Players with Bingos: 8 out of a possible 14

Total Number of Works: 55

Total Fics Written: 31

Art Pieces Completed: 20

Playlists Made: 5

Total Words Written: 81,789 words

[Works By Creator, under the cut]

@batgirlsay​

Falling Through Time Mockingjay and the Miner

@claudeng80​

Caught Changeling, Chapter 7 How the cookie crumbles Sands Through the Hourglass, Chapter 1 Sands Through the Hourglass, Chapter 2 Sands Through the Hourglass, Chapter 3 Sands Through the Hourglass, Chapter 4

@h0rizn​

Anything Can Happen Out There The Best Blaze Burns the Brightest drift compatible Some Elbow Room, Please Someone’s Got to Be the Genre Savvy One Around Here

@kpslp​

2nd (Usually) Sucks After All is Said and Done Anthithesis If Only I Could Invincible

@leewritingrecs​

Luck Be a Lady Mystery at Laxdo Olin Maris

@onedivinemisfit​

Confession of a foolish bruxa got a doctorate in giving himself problems he just wants them to get their vaccinations Here at Camp Grenada never running from a real fight Our little one~ Reminiscing… Speak. Speak and Let Me Save You would you look at me like I’m not looking 

@ruleofexception

Desperate Measures, Chapter 2 I’m Not Here to Hurt You A Moment Apart No good deed A thorn in the sky, Chapter 5 (excerpt)

@sabraeal

All That Remains, Chapter 11: The Prince and the Princess [Part 1] Brewed With Intent Get Up Eight, Chapter 10 Greatest Little Show on Earth Sic Semper Monstrum, Chapter 8 The Strong Pack Thrives, Part 1

@social-mockingbird

in the name of the moon…something something…whatever So This Dame Walked In Stop Throwing Tomatoes sunlight eyes Won’t you come down from your tower?

@starlightsmoon

The Mark Makes the Man

@writing-my-mind-ink

Always by Your Side, Chapter 1 Cutting Edge I swim pretty boy Love on the Silver Screen Never Gone My Way Renovate my Heart Say My Name Sweet as Belladonna, Chapter 1

#obiyukibingo23 #obiyuki #shiraobi #Obi x Shirayuki #snow white with the red hair #Akagami no Shirayukihime #masterpost

[batgirlsay]

Mockingjay and the Miner

A Hunger Games AU Playlist for Obiyuki Bingo 2023 by @snowwhite-andtheknight

After a few songs with general Hunger Games vibes, I chose songs with coal mine and childhood crush references that are mostly from Gale’s point of view (with some Katniss trauma in there too). Similarly to how I like both Zenyuki and Obiyuki, I also like both Hunger Games ships for different reasons, but Gale fits better for Obi feels!

Mockingjay and the Miner

Dead Air- Chvrches Deny It All- The Dear Hunter The Gold- Manchester Orchestra Diamonds and Coal- Incubus The Silence- Manchester Orchestra Safe and Sound (Taylor’s Version)- Taylor Swift You’ve Haunted Me All My Life- Death Cab for Cutie Rear View- Manchester Orchestra

Summary lyrics are cited after the cut:

Dead Air- Chvrches

I will never believe what they say There is a strength in enduring

You will be all that I seek in a twisted light

We hold up to an idea And we'll fight it, what we can't see

Deny It All- The Dear Hunter

The hollow stick to arrogance that binds But good faith and fortune rarely reward our cries While we wait carefully and see

Denied and borrowed tonight Deny, deny it all And it all will go away Close your eyes and deny it all

The Gold- Manchester Orchestra

Couldn't really love you anymore You've become my ceiling I don't think I love you anymore

That gold mine changed you You don't have to hold me anymore Our cave's collapsing I don't wanna be me anymore

"You don't open your eyes for a while You just breathe that moment down."

I believed you were crazy You believe that you love me You and me, we're a daydrink So lose your faith in me

Wasn't really dangerous for us We'd just catch you coughing What the hell are we gonna do? A black mile to the surface Well, I don't wanna be here anymore It all tastes like poison

Can't open your eyes for a while You just beat that moment down You can't open your eyes for a while You just breathe

Diamonds and Coal- Incubus

If it’s good to complicate then both of us are doing fine Just keep your eyes on your part and leave me alone to mine

Come on, in spite of this we’re doing just fine Even diamonds start as coal Give us time to shine Even diamonds start as coal

We’re both aligned in frame of mind, but circumstance has got us good And now you’re seeing a side of me I wished no one ever would

The sweetest things They burn before they shine We think way too much Look at us losing touch A promise is a promise until

The Silence- Manchester Orchestra

Why do I deserve the science To feel better about you? At a loss, I lost my cool I denied that I found you I tried to be a basket case I did not surprise you I'm trying to find a signal fire Let me know when I should move

But you, amplified in the silence Justified in the way you make me bruise

I don't want to waste away It was all I gave to you Take me back and take my place I will rise right up for you Nobody's gonna tear you down now "You can go anywhere but you are where you came from"

Let me watch you as close as a memory Let me hold you above all the misery Let me open my eyes and be glad that I got here

Safe and Sound (Taylor’s Version)- Taylor Swift

I remember tears streaming down your face when I said, "I'll never let you go" When all those shadows almost killed your light I remember you said, "Don't leave me here alone" But all that's dead and gone and passed tonight

Just close your eyes The sun is going down You'll be alright No one can hurt you now Come morning light You and I'll be safe and sound

You’ve Haunted Me All My Life- Death Cab for Cutie

You've haunted me all my life Through endless days and countless nights

You're always out of reach when I'm in pursuit Long-winded then suddenly mute And there's a flaw in my heart's design For I keep trying to make you mine

And so I wait, but I never seem to learn How to capture your diminishing returns I still see you through the eyes of a child Not even thinking we could tame the wild

Rear View- Manchester Orchestra

You were born in a bathtub on Deer Lake and the cradle collapsed And I promised I'd give you a mansion, I'm afraid this is it

Still, you're the reason I'm breathing, the soul in my step I've been running out of excuses, but nobody checks Scream when you need me, in fact, you can scream when you don't I'd rather sit here with you screaming than sit here alone

The fire in the rear view is smaller, the further we get

#obiyukibingo23 #obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #playlist #lyrics #hunger games #the hunger games #chvrches #manchester orchestra #the dear hunter #incubus #taylor swift #death cab for cutie #so many coal mine feels #oops shirayuki is the miner in this chapter cover!

[ruleofexception]

Witcher AU! for Obiyuki bingo 2023.

I know next to nothing about this universe, but after some googling and debating, I went with Shirayuki being a Dryad and Obi a human.

#obiyukibingo23 #obiyuki #ans #witcher au! #childhood friends kind of? #procreate #my art #while drawing this i figured that obi just escaped from a slave trader/owner #shirayuki found him in the forest and saved him #but despite being incredibly wary of him she's also curious #he barely manages to convince her he's not a threat and won't hurt her #just to be safe she insists that they carry out the rest of their intros and conversation with her hiding in the trees and him in the grass #ANYWAYSSSS #i tried <3

[claudeng80]

How the cookie crumbles (Hallmark AU)

“What exactly is a cake tasting, anyway?” Obi drops his coffee and Shirayuki’s mostly-chocolate impostor on the table, then one of the shop’s signature giant cookies. This one has M&M’s in it.

“The last thing the baker needs to know from us is what flavor the cake should be.” Shirayuki breaks the cookie in half, ever so careful to make the sides exactly equal. “I picked my two favorite options from their list, and we get to go try them before choosing.”

“Fancy. What time do you want me to come back for you?” If it’s at least half an hour, that would give him time for a run to the grocery store- his empty pantry is generally just the way he likes it, but she said something about a peanut butter and jelly sandwich yesterday and he’s been craving it ever since.

But his visions of peanut butter fade as she frowns. “Won’t you come with me? It would be so much nicer to have someone to share the experience with, and that way the decision isn’t just what I like.”

“You’re the bride, the cake is supposed to be what you like,” he growls, then cuts himself off with a sip of coffee. It burns his tongue, just like not saying that this is a job for her fiance, not his executive assistant.

“Come on, Obi, it’s cake,” she wheedles, and he crumbles like an M&Ms cookie.

“If that’s what you really want,” he answers, and she lights up like he’s said something that really matters. He stares into the depths of his coffee so she can’t see how happy that makes him, against his will. “Hard to turn down cake.”

She’s still bouncing as they walk the two doors down to the bakery. “This place has so many flavors, I was so proud of myself narrowing it down to just two. I think you’re going to like them!”

The bell over the door tinkles sharply and a wave of sugar-scented air rolls over them. He likes sweets as much as the next person, but it’s a lot. She owes him hot wings after this, and he’s going to make her eat one because it’s too funny not to.

He lingers by the window while Shirayuki talks to the lady at the desk, but she waves him over to a tiny table they have off to the side. There are only two chairs, and the white tablecloth has ruffles. It looks romantic.

“I’ve got samples of all four of the options you picked,” the baker says. “Any of them will work with the decorations you picked out, so that’s not a factor, you just need to let me know which you want. Different layers can be different flavors, too, if you prefer.”

“Four? I thought I only sent you two.”

“You did.” The baker nods to Obi with a slightly disappointed look on her face. “But so did he.”

This is where Obi usually objects. People flatter him with the guess simply because he’s the one standing behind her when she talks about weddings, but he knows where he ranks. He’s just the driver, the buyer of coffee, and the carrier of packages. The fiance is elsewhere. Busy.

But just this once he doesn’t leap to speak up. He meets Shirayuki’s eyes, waiting for her to set the baker straight, and she just smiles. Smiles at him, and then smiles at the baker. “He didn’t tell me that, but of course we have to try his preferences too. Thank you,” she adds, and the woman softens a bit.

“I’ll be right back with the samples. They can all be decorated the same, so we’ll talk about that after you’ve picked a flavor.” The baker chatters on, all her attention on the bride now that the groom’s opinions have been dismissed, and Obi has a moment to just sit back and watch.

Shirayuki has a smile that’s nearly impossible to resist. She thinks people look happy all the time, because when they’re facing her they can’t help it. Obi can’t help it, and she thinks the best of him too. It’s intoxicating.

The baker leaves, and Shirayuki turns back to Obi, grinning from ear to ear just because they can put a raspberry filling in the yellow cake Zen picked. He grins right back, helpless to resist.

He doesn’t even like lemon. But oh, he likes her so much.

The baker leaves the plate with another scowl at Obi. He shares her opinions of Zen’s taste in cake options, but holds his tongue until she’s gone. “Please tell me I don’t look like a vanilla cake kind of guy.”

Shirayuki sticks her fork into the white cake with a little more force than necessary. “I don’t think it’s fair to generalize…” Her gaze at the scoop of monochrome dessert she picks up is dismayed. “I don’t know what Zen was thinking, though.”

Obi gets his own bite, a fraction the size of Shirayuki’s. “Cheers,” he says, raising his fork, and together they eat cake.

“It’s, um…” Shirayuki puts down her fork with a sense of finality.

“Very white,” Obi finishes.

“The icing’s tasty,” she adds.

“Not too sweet,” he agrees. He likes a sweet cake as much as the next person, but sometimes it’s too much.

She’s trying not to say something, but he waits. A minute of silence and the truth comes bursting out. “I really don’t want a wedding cake that’s this boring!”

With one finger, Obi spins the plate sitting between them. “Good thing there are more options.”

One slice is the lemon raspberry. Another is a pale color, not quite white. “Rum spice,” she says, and Obi takes a closer look.

“Sounds good to me, but I thought you’d want your groom awake-” He shuts his mouth on any mention of the wedding night. Zen’s gotten tipsy on candy before. Cough syrup knocks him out. As delicious as it sounds, any alcohol in his food is a risk.

“Oh, I forgot.” Shirayuki slaps a hand over her mouth. “I guess it’s out of the running, then.”

“Did you forget you have no alcohol tolerance either?”

“I can handle cake.” She doesn’t bother with a fork, just breaks off a chunk with two fingers and sticks it in her mouth. “Mmm.”

The chance to be the civilized one is too good to pass up. Obi takes the next fork off the stack, delicately cutting a straight-edged piece off the rum cake. Shirayuki watches every move, so he takes his time about it. It must be good, the way she looks like she’s going to snatch it right out of his hand, but it makes it to his mouth without incident. He can’t help a moan too.

“I know, right?” Her face is red, but she reaches for the next piece of cake. This one’s speckled, a kind of brownish-orange, and he has a bad feeling about it.

“Mmm.” Shirayuki’s eyes roll back, and Obi bites his tongue. Things like that are not for him to notice and certainly not for him to comment on, but it’s not crossing the line to just enjoy the sight. Her eyelashes are crimson against her skin as she savors the bite, throat working at last as she finishes it, but they snap open again, catching him watching. “You have to try this carrot cake, Obi.”

“Oh, no. Vegetables are vegetables and cake is cake. I’m not crossing them.” His fork clatters against the plate, decisively.

“But it doesn’t taste like vegetables, it’s good-” she takes another bite, small like she’s saving it for something.

“I’m glad you like it. Is that the wedding cake, then?”

Her jaw sets. “I don’t think it’s a fair contest if you don’t taste all of them.” She sets aside her fork, scooping up a sizable bite with her bare hand. She leans forward, half out of her chair, holding out the piece like a treat for some kind of reluctant pet.

“You aren’t serious,” he says, but in the depth of his gut he knows better. She’s so stubborn, and she’s got the look in her eye again. She’s going to do something rash. He laughs, because sometimes that defuses her, but no-

“Try me.” Her knee slides forward onto his chair, bracing between his legs, and his laugh falls to nothing. Her free hand grabs his shoulder, and she pulls herself half into his lap, waving carrot cake in his face.

This is more than he can be expected to take. He shakes his head, weak in the face of her, and she laughs and presses the attack. As in she presses the chunk of cake right against his lips. Her hair is wild around her face and her eyes are dancing, and he can’t deny her when she wants something from him that badly. He opens his mouth.

More cake than he would like reaches its destination, but still it’s only about half of what she’s trying to force on him. The rest falls to crumbs against his lips, and without thinking he tries to catch them with his tongue.

What he catches, instead, is her hand, smooth and hard against the flat of his tongue.

She snatches her hand back, and crumbs cascade to the floor like a handful of sand. They patter to a stop in the sudden silence, but he can't tear his eyes away from hers.

She sees him. The facade he's built lies in shards among the cake crumbs. Every time he's held his tongue when she's sad Zen is neglecting her hangs around his neck like a stone. It's as though he's said out loud, "I would never treat you like that."

Her elbow flexes, pulling her closer for one heartbeat that skips beneath her fingers, not daring to imagine any outcome but flight, and then she springs back from his chair. Her hip sends the cafe table rocking, her foot tips over her chair, and she pauses out of reach and poised to fly.

"Is everything all right?" The bakery door bangs against the wall and Shirayuki bolts upright.

"Thank you but the wedding's off!" She shouts, and she runs.

Obi swallows the carrot cake in his mouth, moist and sweet and yet somehow dry as ashes. It takes another minute for his heart to beat again, the dull thudding in his chest all too familiar. He may not understand, but he knows what comes next. He's never smiled a faker smile, set the chair back up with such care. "What was that all about?" asks the baker.

"Nerves," he answers, hating every word. "The carrot cake was her favorite, though." He stacks plates, putting on a show of unconcern while every moment she gets further away, then picks up the bag she left behind.

"Go, go," the baker says. "I see this all the time. A nice apology and everything will be fine. It's probably not even your fault."

"If only," Obi says. He looks from her down to the cake leftovers scattered across the serving plate. “Can we take the rest of this to go?”

#fanfic #obiyukibingo23 #hallmark au #bingo! #possibly to be continued

[sabraeal]

All That Remains, Chapter 11: The Prince and the Princess [Part 1]

[Read on AO3]

Written for both Obiyuki Bingo and also a very, very overdue birthday gift for @lusakina, who has nearly waited a year for me to be able to sit down and write this. It’s a slightly shorter chapter than these typically are, but this one needed to be more of an interlude between parts...

With a flourish of the pen, the girl escapes.

That is how a story would tell of this, wouldn’t it? A grand climax racing into the gentle arms of a denouement. An exultant cry of victory followed by a blank page.

Our fingers straddle the border between two words; one in which there is the possibility of failure, and the other which brings us the relief of success. It is so easy for us to turn the page, to shift from those dire hours to the moment of safety. A girl escapes, and in the space of a breath, she is far away, only pale echo of that danger buried beneath the next step of her journey.

There is no time to dwell on the between; on the sleepless hours wondering whether you will awake to the sounds of stomps and shouts, of whether you can afford to stop to catch a breath or must chance a push onward, hoping your own legs won’t give out beneath you. On the page there is only room for failure or flight, and anything in between...

That is where the story abandons you. Escape is only a small sliver of survival, and the the rest, the rest--

Is living. And oh, that is by far the hardest part.

Lata taught her how to ride on one of the sparse spring days in Lilias; Shirayuki had been the one to ask, only a day or so before, and he had huffed, at least it might make you more useful. A tepid response, one she thought had been as polite a refusal as a man like him could come, until she bumped into him in the courtyard, mouth wrapped halfway around a good morning, before he hauled her off to the stable.

Unlike most of her studies, riding did not come easy. No, instead it came in fits and starts; months of taking two steps forward and ten steps back until one day her amiable little mare broke out into a canter, and Shirayuki kept her seat. Good, the professor had grunted, hunching his furs up around his ears. I thought I might just wash my hands of this and let that poor excuse for a knight cart you around like luggage.

Please, my lord, Obi had called from his perch on the fence, a gloved hand pressed courteously to his chest. She would be my precious cargo.

Whatever he chose to call it, it was baggage, and if there was one thing Shirayuki refused to be, it was a burden. Riding might not come easy, but she had kept with it until not even Zen could find a flaw with her seat, and yet--

And yet, beside Kiki she sits a graceful as a rock in a bucket; unlikely to tumble out but by no means proficient. At least, not the way she thought she was. That’s the difference between learning a good seat and being born to it, she supposes, which wouldn’t matter at all if the moment Kiki slowed them to a trot, she didn’t feel as if her own backside would fall off.

“Catch your breath,” Kiki tells her, voice raised no louder than the susurrus of leaves around them. “We’ll need to keep moving.”

A protest hones itself to a point at the tip of her tongue-- there’s no need to stop, it wants to say, I won’t slow you down-- but Kiki only stares at her, kindness leaving her no quarter. The fight sloughs off her like a skin-- no, like a gown, ill-fitting and heavy, made for someone else. Another Shirayuki, one more used to saddles and stirrups, who spent her days toiling in the gardens and summers riding across the North, who hadn’t been afraid to throw a blanket over dewy grass to stare up at the stars.

Not the one who had wasted two seasons trying to slip into a smile that pinched at the seams. Who hadn’t let her friend simply disappear while she chose which spoon to stir her tea.

Nails bite into the flesh of her palms, sharper than she ever kept them in Wirant. She’d needed them short, then; longer ones were liable to break, for dirt to get caked deep within the bed, but in the palace...

Ornamental, Haki had called them, hanging polished nails over the divan. The same as Shirayuki had been, when all the flounces settled. Nothing more but another face to decorate its halls.

Her breath steams in the air, a gasping specter that dissolves as soon as it appears, never quite solid enough to grasp. Glancing over her shoulder, the lights of Wistal still shimmering past the dark ribbon of the river, she feels much the same. Insubstantial. Hardly real. That if she just reached out she could touch those glittering lamps as if they were no more than shards of wunderocks, meant to settle in the palm of her hands and never burn.

The city’s so tame from so far away.

“We should go back.”

It’s barely more than a whisper, a toneless sigh into the night, but Kiki’s stare cuts to her, sharp as the blade at her waist. “Shirayuki. You have just fled the palace and its protections.” The night blurs the details of her expression into shadow, but the angle of her brows says sharp, skeptical. “Are you really so eager to return?”

“I-I didn’t say we should go back t-there.” She skips over her words like a stone on a still pond, hands clenched tight around her reins. “I just meant...the market. Or maybe one of the pubs. Somewhere...”

Somewhere there’s something left of him, she doesn’t say. There’s no point when Kiki is already shaking her head, gold shimmering silver in the moonlight. “You do understand, don’t you? We cannot go back. Not to the palace, not to the market...not to Wistal at all.”

“But that was the last place Obi was seen,” she insists, stomach as knotted as the leather strap in her hands. “If we’re going to find anything, it will be there. If we leave now--”

“Obi has made some...questionable decisions in the past” --the wrinkle between Kiki’s brows discourages further inquiry-- “but if he was trying to slip out of Wistal under the Watch’s nose, he wouldn’t stop for a drink.”

Her mouth works-- wasn’t he supposed to be a slither-outer? a man who abandoned his post to make a fool of himself in every tavern before he’d crawl back into our good graces?-- but that venom stings even her own lips, a set of lies too raw a wound in her to even scrape out a single sound. To pretend she could believe that of him for a moment, even just to win her way--

You do know that house plants don’t drink champagne, she informs him, poking her head around the improbable girth of this fiddle leaf fig. Even if it does reside in a manor house.

Gold flashes up from where he crouches, startled, flute hanging limply from his fingers. It’s only a moment before it smooths into an easy confidence, into a grin that’s right at home with all these silver platters and crystal glass. It’s either this or off one of these fancy little balconies, and I got to say, there aren’t ladies walking out from beneath these leaves. Well, except you, Miss.

His playfulness is contagious. You could just drink it, if you need to. I doubt this would give you anything more serious than a case of the hiccups. She leans in, conspiratorial. In my professional opinion.

You may be the granddaughter of a bar, Miss, but never on the streets I’ve visited. A corner of his mouth twists as he levers himself to his feet. Then you’d know that the only knife you carry with you is a sharp one.

--It would be a betrayal. Another way for her to turn her back on him, to forget the man he’d become over these past six years, the one who-- who--

So, it was worth having? Just asking makes her stomach lurch, like holding her foot over a precipice, trying to judge the distance down. It’s just a necklace, just Obi, and yet she’s tangled up in anticipation, breathless for that tilt of his head, that soft flicker of a smile.

Of course. Both fondness and confusion add an airiness to his laugh, as if his answer were as certain as the ground beneath their feet, or as necessary as the air between them. It would have been just for the fact that you lent it to me.

--It’s impossible.

Not that he loved her; of course he did, but in the way a key loved its lock, or a hand might miss its pair. The way she felt when she walked the streets in front of her grandparents’ old pub and heard laughing through the glass. She was a best-worn glove, a favorite meal, a half-remembered chorus to a lullaby.

She was home, the same way he was for her. And to think of it as the same as the knights in the palace tapestries, kneeling at the feet of their mistresses and longing, to think of it as desire...

They’re mistaken, is all. Of anyone, she knew him best. If his feelings had changed, then surely she would have noticed, she would have known--

You don’t know anything about me, Miss.

Her breath catches, painful in her chest. “But we don’t know where to look. If there’s a lead, then--”

“There’s nothing left to find of him there.” Each word hits her like a whip crack, a lash she’s not braced to take. “They will be looking for you, Shirayuki. Not now, but in the morning...”

In the morning, one of Haki’s maids would bustle into her chambers, throwing curtains wide and informing her of the gowns the consort had set out for her perusal. But today her hands would sink into the covers and find no flesh beneath it, no young lady to dress as her mistress pleased. No, there would only be a haphazard bundle of silk and velvet and down, and then, then--

Kiki’s eyes narrow as she gazes back, a hunter gauging the distance between her and her target. “It will take them time to search the grounds, to realize...”

That she was gone. No, that she, of her own volition, had left.

Kiki’s mare nickers as she leads her head around, back to the road ahead. “We should use what time we have wisely.”

It is simple to have purpose when there is trouble at your back, when there is the promise of menace nipping at your heels. One step yields to the next with such ease that it becomes nothing more than an instinct, heedless of fear and of good sense. Forward is so much more tenable as a directive than a decision.

Second thoughts are the luxury of those whose stories have an after.

Night passes into day, and what once seemed a steady, sustainable pace turns relentless. Kiki turns them off the main road at first light-- we can cover your hair, but two women riding hard is a rare enough sight still-- leading them first through fields of tall grass and wildflowers, so many Shirayuki is tempted to ask for a rest, if only to replenish her stocks--

But the grimness of Kiki’s jaw stills the words on her tongue.

It’s not long until fields give way to scrublands, and scrub gives way to the first stirrings of a forest, its canopy blotting out the sun’s heat as it climbs to its zenith. To her eyes, it seems untouched, a primordial kingdom of leaf and bramble and vine, but Kiki quickly picks out a hunter’s trail in the brush, leading them deep into its cool embrace.

It’s only then that Kiki lets their pace slow, that she lets her mare come to a panting halt. “We’ll stop here. The horses need to rest.”

There’s no block for her to dismount to, but Kiki provide a knee-- and then a net of arms in short measure, once Shirayuki’s leg fails to swing over and becomes a slow, terrifying slide.

“Sorry,” she gasps, clutching hard to her shoulders. “I didn’t realize that my, er, I mean...everything’s numb...?”

Her only consolation is that Kiki’s huff is at least amused when she finds her feet. “No need to apologize. We rode for a long time. Longer than we should have.”

Obi used to complain that too much time in the saddle made him bow-legged-- like some sort of hedge knight, Miss-- but it’s not until she hobbles across the clearing, too much space between her thighs, that she understands it.

“Oh, did we? That’s good. I mean--” there’s no comfortable way to rest; to stand means suffering her trembling legs, to sit only worsens the numbness “--I thought so, but if we were really riding for so long, then we would stop to switch out the horses...”

Kiki shakes her head, expert hands never slowing as she rubs down their mounts. “They’ll check the roads first, the post stations where it’s likely we’d need to stop. And any groom worth his pay will know these are from the royal stables, which means he’ll be the first to tell them what he knows.” Her mouth gives a wry twist. “Horse thieves always pay well.”

“But we’re not...” Kiki spares her a long, dubious look. They certainly hadn’t asked to borrow a pair of His Majesty’s finest mounts. “Are you so sure there will be anyone coming after us? Izana said that if I left, that I would be-- I’d--”

It should go without saying-- even now, the burden of his gaze weighs on her-- if you break this agreement, there will not be another offer.

She clears her throat. “I don’t think he’d be sending anyone for me.”

“Not Izana.” Kiki stretches out the words with care, the kind that warns of a ‘but’ before it can round the corner. “But Zen will turn over the whole city to find you.”

“Ah...” She hadn’t accounted for that, no. Not for Zen, who so often complained of tied hands, of how his brother’s wants ran roughshod over his own, using what little power he could bring to bear. “But Izana would never let him. Not when he was so clear...”

“Which is why this will all happen so quickly.” Kiki turns to her, as grim and serious as she had been in the stables. “Before Izana can hear of it.”

Her fingers tremble against the trunk, bark biting into flesh to keep her upright. “N-no. He can’t do that. When Obi disappeared it took him weeks to even get a single search party...”

Beneath the black of her jacket, Kiki’s shoulders tense. She does not speak but brace, and that is enough to draw Shirayuki up short, to remember--

A knife strapped to a belt. A seed pressed into her hand.  Ah, she’d forgotten how easily a healed wound can run fresh, if she only pulls off the scab. “But he never sent anyone. Not for Obi.”

“Shirayuki...” A sigh soughs through her teeth. “We should go.”

But it cannot last forever. There always comes a time where fear banks, when tempers have cooled and the ceaseless war drum of the heart fades. And all that is left...

Is you.

Day fades into night again before Kiki allows them to truly rest, not just pause to catch a breath or let the horses drink. Their pace had been slow through the forest, careful as they picked their way along the knotted trails, but their mounts are exhausted, pulling at their leads as they plod into the clearing. Shirayuki can hardly blame them; she nearly balks until Kiki reaches for her, more falling from the saddle than dismounting it.

No matter how she might insist that she bore the mark of Tanbarun in her strong shoulders, or that heaving bags of soil from the cart to the greenhouse made her as capable as any of the male scholars, Shirayuki is hardly heavy. A girl her size might make Suzu stagger-- I can’t leave him on the walls by himself, Obi had confided once, grin peeking over his scarf, he’s got more in common with a sail than stone-- but even with the brunt of her weight slumping over her like a sack, Kiki is only driven back a step, solid when she plants her on the ground.

“You’ll have to forgive the accommodations,” she huffs, one half of her mouth hooking into a smirk. “I’m afraid it falls just short of royal.”

There’s no silk sheets or pillows of down, that’s for certain. But Kiki lays out her cloak to cover the soft sponge of the forest’s undergrowth, plumping her pack to make a kissing cousin to a pillow, and oh, what Shirayuki would have given for such luxuries during that breathless flight across the border, all those years ago. She stumbled upon that forgotten manor after a half dozen nights of only rocks and roots to lay her head on, with just that little hood to keep her warm.

“Ah, don’t worry about me,” she murmurs, unclasping her own cloak from around her neck. “I’ve slept on worse.”

Kiki’s smile stretches tight over her teeth. “Of course.”

Never one to need to fill the air with noise when silence would do, Kiki gathers their leads, nickering quietly at their mares as they tamp at the ground, impatient. Lata had taught her how to care for tack-- as any good horseman should, he sniffed, turning up his nose at the university’s groom-- but there’s a practiced efficiency to Kiki’s movements, almost meditative, that suggest any of her fumbling might only get in the way.

Still, Shirayuki isn’t about to stand idle. Not anymore.

“If you’re going to take care of the horses...” Her slippers shuffle, uncertain, beneath the hem of her skirt. “Should I gather some wood for--?”

“No fire.”

Shirayuki blinks. Wistal may be warm, even into its winters, but its nights still grow cold late in the season, enough that some mornings leave a lick of frost on the windowpanes. “But it will get cold soon. The sun’s already--”

Kiki shakes her head, sharp. “We can’t risk the smoke.”

She doesn’t so much snap as rasp, a dire note scraping her voice raw. Kiki has stood tall before kings and traitors both, and yet her whisper is nothing more than a live nerve that her desperation skins open. And it-- it seems so silly. They aren’t running from some first’s prince’s wounded pride, from four dozen of the kingdom’s most loyal knights and a half dozen dogs, but...

“But it’s only Zen.” It’s strange that she’s the one to say it, that in this twilight of her escape, she’s the one to speak sense. “He won’t hurt us. He’ll just...”

“Convince you.”

Her mouth falls slack. “I...?”

“Zen loves you.” It’s stunning how easily Kiki can say such a thing when Zen never had, when it had always been something hidden in the wrinkles of his smile or the longing in his eyes. “The fear has never been that he would hurt you. It is that you will listen.”

Shirayuki wants to protest, to say there would be nothing he could say to convince her to abandon Obi now that she’s set herself on his trail--

But even now her heart leaps to her throat not in dread but anticipation as she imagines Zen stepping into the light of their fire. Hope sears as he kneels before her, the fire casting his pale hair golden as he tells her, it’s all been a mistake. The anguish would turn itself to earnest apology in his eyes, and he would say that they can do this together, if only she would come back with him, if only she would stand by his side.

A breath shudders from her lungs, so full of wanting it burns.

It is so easy to say that she would not turn her back on Obi again, but three months ago, she would have sworn no one could get her to forsake him the first time.

“Right,” she rasps, chest tender beneath the hand she presses to it. “No fire.”

Oh, how easy it is for the doubts to set in, when it is only your tender heart to stand against them.

These are not Lilias’ nights, so cold that even a warm pan beneath the pallet and a heap of furs can’t keep the chill out, but they do have to press close beneath the weight of her cloak, tucking it tight around their shoulders and back, scrunching to keep their feet beneath it. It’s hardly the first time she’s had to huddle for warmth under the blankets, tucking deep into open arms to keep out the elements, but she’s used to a warmer body beside her, a furnace wrapped in flesh. And Kiki, well--

What do you expect? Obi lilts into her ear, as soft as he always spoke beneath the stars. Miss Kiki’s got a reputation to keep.

Her body is weary, bruised and battered from the ride, but even still-- her heart leaps when Kiki lays next to her, the sweet scent of lilac wafting from where her hair knots at the back of her neck. For a moment, it feels like that night so long ago, when snow had pressed at the inn’s windows, and her heart had raced from how close she had come to-- to something in that room. Not with Kiki, but with Zen, the pillows collapsing in among them and the urgency to see, to know had pressed her in for that next kiss. Her lips stung from it, tingled, and she had wanting nothing more than to say something, to ask if it was right that she felt so torn between her head and her heart.

But instead she had stared at the nape of Kiki’s neck, where her hair parts around skin like waves around a breaker, and worried. The same as she does tonight, as she does the next, and the night after. She is a font of concerns, an endless well of anxiety that burbles through the early morning hours, ceaseless until the sun rises.

You understand, don’t you? Even now, she feels Kiki’s fingers at her ankle, a single thoughtful tap on her boot. What all this might cost when it’s over?

If you break this agreement, Izana warns her, his tone implying fine print, there will not be another offer.

Think about what you might lose, the silence urges her, sounding more like Kiki than any words ever have. Think about what you might not get back.

Her fingers clench tight in the wool of Kiki’s tunic. But what about you? she wants to ask into the soft skin of her nape. What do you lose, coming with me?

Kiki is a royal knight, an aide to the second prince, the heir to Seiran. Soon to be married, too, after her father’s summit. One so important that it even peeled Zen’s aides from him, one Kiki herself is supposed to be handling the arrangements for.

And yet here she is, with her. Because a princess needs her knight. Except Shirayuki has never wanted to be a princess, and Kiki...

Must have her reasons. Good ones. The kind Shirayuki wants to know, to understand--

But instead her body betrays her one last time, and all its anxiety abandons her for sleep.

Oh, how stories never speak of this part, of that space between the wanting and the knowing. A woman wakes from her thousand year slumber in the arms of her true love. Children outsmart a witch and find their way home without a single wrong turn.

A girl escapes the garden of a sorceress, and stumbles straight onto the trail of her boy. No doubts, no second thoughts, no leads that have gone cold over the long months she spent, a prisoner in paradise.

How much easier it must be to suffer knowing that there is purpose to it in the end. How much easier it is to go forward, when every step will lead you true.

It’s impossible for her to say how many days it take for them to travel through the forest, or how many more there are before Kiki leads her back to a road. Obi had always been the one with the map in his head, unerringly leading them through hill and dale and drift; Shirayuki had only followed, putting her boot prints beside his own, a matched set.

It’s only the hangings above the inn’s door that give her pause when they pass it, that remind her that they’ve been here before. They’d run across this very courtyard with rain dogging their heels, standing in front of the desk soaked entirely to the skin. The five of them, traveling back from Tanbarun, breaths caught up in laughter as they skidded to a stop in the tile. It’s impossible, she thinks, that they could have been so young only such a short time ago.

“How about it then?” Kiki grunts, voice rough from disuse. “Would you like a bed tonight?”

Her back would certainly appreciate it. “They had baths here, too, didn’t they?”

For the first time in days, Kiki’s mouth curls toward a smirk. “You know, I think they did. Good ones, too.”

Strange, is it not, how we never know the precise moment the story finds us again?

Steam curls thick in the air, a palpable curtain between her and the bath. A welcome one; it’s been so long since Shirayuki last removed her dress that the cuffs stick to her wrists. It’s a miracle of the humidity-- and her own ingenuity-- that it peels away, leaving pink skin in its wake.

“Oh.” The warmth of the bath clings to her as thick as any cloak, coaxing out a sigh. “Where...?”

“Leave it,” Kiki urges her from farther in. “The maids will look after it. If there’s anything that can save those things.”

She hums, uncertain, letting the fabric hang from her fingers. This is her own sweat, her own mess; it hardly seems right to expect someone to clean it...

But she wants to deal with it even less. “All right.” The gown drops into the fog, lost. “I’m coming.”

When it is not just our own will that moves us forward, but the narrative, pushing us inexorably to the next turn of the page.

It’s a good, solid scrubbing that Shirayuki gives herself; she’s no stranger to the sort of dirt that a body can gather over a day’s work, but this, this is a week’s accumulation of grime and filth. It doesn’t wash away so much as flake, chipped off by the application of horsehair and grit until the only think left is pink, scoured skin beneath.

“We’re alone,” Kiki assures her through the partition, one pale foot sliding a sudsy bucket beneath. “If you want.”

Shirayuki blinks for a moment, staring down at the bubbles uncomprehending--

“Oh.” She reaches up, unwinding the towel from her head. It’d be generous to call what’s under it brown, let alone red, but with a good wash, well... “Thank you.”

Kiki hesitates. “I’ll meet you in the bath.”

Even in the most mundane of moments, the times in which we feel the most off the trodden path, lost and left with only our hopes to guide us, we can be so close that only a step would traverse the space between. That only a breath could speak it into being.

How many times must we come close to relief, and then never know it? How many doors must close while we hope for a mere window, all unknowing?

If Shirayuki had thought the steam thick before, it is nothing to how it rises from the actual bath. It might well be a curtain for how well it shields the edge from her; she risks a few toes at first to feel for it, and with a steeling breath, sinks a whole foot right down to the knee.

It’s hot, enough that the fresh skin these prickles with pain before the heat soothes it away. Her other leg follows, then the rest of her, sinking down into its warm embrace.

As much as it stings, it’s pleasant as well. As if she’s been made new again, the Shirayuki of the palace washed away, and leaving behind only her.

And then, when we least expect it--

“Caw, caw,” the crow says, swooping down to the little girl, “Good day, good day, little one, what brings you here?”

“Well, well, well.” A lithe body slides into the pool, tawny trailing after her like a comet’s tail. “Didn’t think I’d find a fine young miss like you here.”

--We are found once again.

For better or for worse.

#obiyukibingo23 #obiyuki #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #fairy tale au #all that remains #snow queen au #my fic #ans #this took so long because i truly wanted to join back up with the story frame before it finished #and i tortured myself for SO LONG thinking this chapter wouldn't be long enough without it #and then like halfway through the first scene i was like #oh no the whole pacing of this chapter is literally like...an interlude #the point is that this is the part of the story where the narrative has abandoned shirayuki #because this isn't the INTERESTING part #and it can only come back in at the end #YES IT TOOK ME LIKE 7 MONTHS TO REALIZED THIS #I DUN WANNA TALK ABOUT IT

[kpslp]

2nd (Usually) Sucks

Veteran racer Obi is preparing to win another Cup when he’s put to the test by a mysterious competitor.

#obiyuki #obiyukibingo23 #akagami no shirayukihime #mariokartAU #Racing #snow white with the red hair #kpSLP #obi x shirayuki #titleinspiredbyADTR

[starlightsmoon]

[Read at Ao3]

List of poor souls he’s gonna suck some money out of? Check. Excuses of being from some relative of the Toghrul that hit it off with their bird rearing business? Check, he’ll be able to recite the lines in his sleep. Clothes? Simple black shirt that took half of his savings - Oh how he sacrificed for the minimalistic rich aesthetic - He looks like those guys who’d get those mova globes as a toy when he was five. (He had sticks, pieces of glass he called crystal and a pet rock.)

He didn't have it in him to feel bitter about that anymore though. He slurped on way too many pumpkin spice lattes for that.

The birdbrain he’s gonna be swiping from might never have had it before. Gotta pity them for never having a sugar bomb corporate cash grab.

Oh he almost forgot, hair? Looks fancy enough to him. Giving the bristles another swipe in front of the hand mirror dangling from his apartment door and swiping the keys from his beloved plant soldier, Nuggets. 

-

His mark looks as tired and anxious as always, swirling - well, trying to. Obi still can’t believe the guy has a gold bar as a door stopper - the vodka in his hand and though it kinda turns into more of a disturbance to the liquid relief in the cup.

“Hey there.” What was his name again? Oh well, it’ll slide off his tongue eventually. 

The man had been a loser who was probably a bit more into feet than he should be, and had been dabbling in drugs that Obi doubts the guy can actually live after intaking. He’s drank quite a couple of drinks with him for the past months. Hell, the man has made Tuesday be labeled as ‘drinking for the money’ day in his calendar - He kinda admits, even with his totally admirable work ethics, that he loathes Tuesdays now - to his dismay, Torou said she’d love to take it over from him if he didn’t want it. And though he really doesn’t wanna hear any more mommy issues and glorification of drug addiction, he’ll get through it.

“Oh hello Nanaki.” 

He was surprised when Mr. Foot Stuff actually was sober enough to remember his name, but today was special so he’ll give him some props, he normally dialed him when he was down to half a brain and third of manners and a non-existent filter about how much chipped toenails have a charm.

Obi gets seated in the stool next to him - lets the man order fucking champagne for him without his input - and puts his honey filter on. He normally gets lazy with this guy but he’ll have to be on high alert, can’t let him get any second thoughts after all.

“So regarding what we talked about-”

-

-God he’s got the sweetest deal of the century, he’s gonna be ordering those fancy ass kaleidoscopes just you wait.

-

If he survives this, he’s gonna buy Torou a ticket that shitty boy band concert and he’ll make it so that she cries for it. Hell, he’ll even buy Haruka one of those tacky you’re the best dad mugs too. Of course unless he gives him a lecture and attitude then that is gonna be replaced with a your the best dad mug instead.

Not that he doesn’t deserve the attitude though.

But can you blame him? The guy seemed like the best catch he was gonna get there, and cherry on top being that he was gonna get it by just sipping booze. He wasn’t wrong either, just that conning his dad’s company while he was at it didn’t seem like a bad idea.

Who knew that old fuck was running a human trafficking business. 

He didn’t at the least. But now Obi finally got the biggest con of his life, with a boatload of money that he’s shipping to Wistal for it to be Haruka’s problem and taking the railways to wherever his heart takes him cause he has no fucking clue what he paid for at the ticket stand.

But the redhead that’s his roommate seems nice, though it’d be nicer if he could stop looking at her,

-

She’s got a lotta luggage, and she’s so careful with it.

It makes his one duffle bag packed with some clothes and a toothbrush look quite sad in comparison. He regrets selling off the suitcase. It’d make a statement and he would be able to disguise himself as a rich conglomerate, even if he doesn’t have his extra shiny shoes and rocking a plain button-up and jeans, he’d be able to make it work- he’s done it in worse before. Wait, did he pack any shoes at all? 

“Hello.” a meek voice breaks his thoughts, and he can worry about being shoeless later.

“Uhm, is there any issue if I put some of these,” she gestures to her four suitcases and plus one tote bag he can see peeking out from the one plastered with stickers of flowers and beach umbrellas ”On your space?” She points to the tray above him that’s a bit too close to his head for comfort, he’s nearly smacked his head on the damn thing four times already. Thankfully his lightning quick reflexes and prowess triumphs the future bump on his head he’s definitely gonna be dealing with.

She’s already attacking her bottom lip and clutching at her sweater. He’d be a monster if he said no.

“Sure but you gotta tell me one thing,“ he really doesn’t need the space, his luggage was acting as his foot rest just until she arrived. It really didn’t need his permission anyways.

Unluckily for her, he may not have been a monster but he sure is something close to it.

“Do you think a hotdog is a sandwich?”

And judging by the way she tilts her head, furrows her brows and stops her abuse on her lips; He’s gonna be having a fun time.

-

He has confirmed she’s not a psychopath, and surprisingly seems to not want to murder him and throw him out the window for more room to put her suitcases in. Yet. 

And it seems like his ticket and the place she’s headed to have the same spelling, which means he can actually thank himself for once, a pretty lady on his trip to become a nobody doesn’t seem so bad.

 “So, my name is Shirayuki, I’m a botanist, and I really appreciated the help.” he’s sure that lugging around some suitcases was not worth the smile bestowed upon him, - It’s way too trustful for somebody like him - but he’ll have a cute face smile at him anyday.

“Well Miss, you can call me Obi, I’m a guy with many secrets,” Obi earns a giggle that he’s sure that’ll haunt his dreams. 

“And no problem, though I admit I mourn the sight of you struggling to hop around with suitcases.” and before he knows it, his hand reaches out for a shake. He should probably get rid of that-

She clasps his hand, “Nice to meet you Obi.” and suddenly, all words die in his throat.

Her hands are soft.

He struggles not to whimper as the words leave with his tongue without permission, “Nice to meet you too, Miss.”

And her laugh is way too pretty.

#obiyukibingo23 #con artist au #finally finished one #as much as you can call this finished at least #my first bingo entry

[onedivinemisfit]

Our little one~

I had shapeshifter on my bingo, ofc I couldn’t resist

AnS (c) Akizuki Sorata

Art: Me

#akagami no shirayukihime #ans #snow white with the red hair #obiyuki #shirayuki #obi #ryuu #myart #obiyukibingo23 #shapeshifter au #in which we all foxes

[social-mockingbird]

in the name of the moon...something something...whatever

(an Obiyuki Sailor Moon AU) 

my second written obiyuki bingo entry! please forgive the mad cheesiness, I do really appreciate sailor moon but I find it mad cheesy. also the idea of obi wearing sparkly shorts was too funny to not use. enjoy!

________

Obi stared at the glossy black cat sitting on his bed and started to laugh. 

He couldn’t help it. Then he looked down at himself and laughed even harder. By the time Luna could get him to calm down, calling his name in an increasingly exasperated tone, Obi was lying on the floor like a star, chest heaving with suppressed chuckles.

“This is serious,” said the cat, tail flicking with annoyance. “The magic I’ve bestowed upon you is not to be taken lightly! You are destined to save Earth from the forces of evil, Obi, and I’d like it if you had a little more gravity.”

“Okay.” Obi crossed his legs and sat up, folding his hands primly. “Consider me grave as a full moon. But you’ve got to admit, Luna, the outfit is ridiculous.”

Luna humphed. “The Moon Guardian outfit has been passed down through generations—”

“Of women, obviously, because there are too many sparkles on here for my comfort—”

“The moon shines brightly in the night sky and the guardian reflects that light—”

“The moon also goes in phases; can’t I be more of a new-moon sort of guardian? I’m more of a stealth sort of guy.” Obi raised his hands, pretending to creep. The effect was very much ruined by the white sailor shirt and shiny blue shorts.

Luna sighed. “We can talk about the outfit. But listen to me first. Your first quest will be to find your fellow Sailor Guardians. They are the guardians of other celestial bodies and will help you in your ultimate journey.”

Obi was doing his best not to yawn. “Ultimate journey?”

Luna’s eyes sparkled. “You are to find the legendary artifact, the Silver Crystal. With its supreme power—and the combined power of the Sailor Guardians—you will be able to defeat the forces of evil once and for all, and bring balance to the universe.”

“Um…Luna, look, I hear what you’re saying, but I’m really not the saving-the-world type…”

“Which is why you’ll need my training,” Luna continued patiently. “This is your destiny, Obi.”

Obi looked down at his sparkling uniform, unconvinced.

“Okay. So—I just need to find other…Sailor Guardians…and then the Crystal?”

“Yes. So you’ll do it?”

“Do I have a choice?”

“No!” Luna clapped her paws. “Also, you’re late for school.”

“Why,” Obi whined, leaping to his feet. “You knew.”

“The more you complain, the later you’ll be!”

Obi prayed to the god of sparkly princess powers to do some very nasty things to Luna as he threw a hoodie over the sailor shirt and skidded out the door. Apparently the ability to run in platforms came free with the new guardianship.

____

Obi was grateful that the magic clothes had faded halfway on the way to school, especially since the platforms were hurting his feet. There had been no sign of Luna during the day, and while he hadn’t really been looking, no sign of any Sailor Guardians, either.

Are they going to be classmates or something?

There had been a very tall boy with turquoise hair who’d stared at him for the entirety of second period, but he’d chalked that up to boredom.

There had also been that absolutely enchanting red-haired girl he'd nearly knocked over on his way to school who had accepted his eight apologies with the most adorable smile he'd ever seen, and smelled like flowers, and had the nicest hands, and he needed to get a life.

The pin Luna had given him rested securely in the inside pocket of his hoodie and had stayed cool all day, despite being up against his skin. School was now over and he’d holed up in his favorite tea shop with the massive pile of homework he’d accumulated. Jasmine tea steamed comfortingly in the cup to his right and a massive anpan sat next to it. Obi was reaching for the sweet bun, ready to sink his teeth into it, and then the entire tea shop exploded outward and Obi found himself flailing through the air, surrounded by shards of broken glass. He landed unhurt several feet away from the smoking scene and got to his feet, blinking in shock. There was a gaping hole in the side of the tea shop and despite the commotion no one was running to help, or screaming? In fact, the entirety of the street was empty.

It was then that Obi remembered there was a parade in the town square and they’d blocked off this road. That explained the distinct lack of people on the street when he’d walked over after school. And the cheering, music, and shouting from two streets over. There was no way anyone had heard anything over the celebration.

Obi thought that was weirdly convenient of the universe.

From the wreckage of the shop stepped a beautiful lady with short reddish hair, holding her hands at her sides in a dramatic sort of supervillain pose. She’d been behind the counter about five minutes ago and the more Obi looked at her, the less human she became. The last time he’d checked women didn’t have bulging yellow eyes and lizard-like skin on the daily.

“Moon Guardian,” she hissed, “I am Jadeite. We meet at last.”

Obi shuffled into a weak sort of fighting pose, raising his fists, more confused than anything else. He was okay with fighting as a whole and figured this was a kind of boss fight, since he’d just been declared savior of the universe (or whatever) but he hadn’t expected anything this soon. He hadn’t even had a mastering-his-powers montage yet. Had Luna even mentioned any sort of training?

“Yeah, that’s—me. Unfortunately. You’ve heard of me? I just got the job this morning.”

Jadeite laughed, the sound like dark water over sharp rocks. “You are funny, little guardian.” Then her hands started to glow a menacing green. “Too bad I have to kill you.”

Obi would have laughed if that green energy didn’t look so deadly. The brooch tucked into his jacket began to burn, so he took it out, holding it in his palm. It was also glowing.

“Obi!”

Luna was behind him, perched on a wall.

“What?” Obi held up the brooch. “Is this you?”

“Excuse me,” said Jadeite, dropping her hands a little. “I’m on the clock.”

“You have to transform!” Luna pointed a paw at the brooch.

“Okay, fine. You did it last time. Go ahead.”

“No, it has to be you! You have to yell Moon Prism Power, Makeup! That’s your transformation phrase!”

“Okay, are you serious? How long has it been since you’ve had a male guardian?”

A blast of green energy sang by Obi’s ear, smashing into the wall.

“Moonprismpowermakeup!” Obi screeched.

The brooch hummed, shooting out bursts of white light. Obi felt his feet leave the ground and he began to spin, the way he had in his bedroom earlier that day. But this felt different. More powerful.

It also took about twenty seconds longer.

“I am Handsome Guardian Sailor Moon,” Obi yelled, posed dramatically in the air, hair swirling around his ears.

Jadeite looked a little dumbstruck.

Obi pointed the staff that had magically appeared in his hands at her. “In the name of the Moon,” he intoned, voice echoing, “I will punish you!”

A blast of energy shot from the staff and sent Jadeite spinning backwards about 20 feet, into the rubble of the tea shop. Obi flew after her, laser-focused, and found her smoking body in a heap on top of what used to be the front counter.

He landed, gently, and felt the focus fade from his brain.

“You did it!” Luna leapt atop a turned-over chair, smiling the way cats do. “See? This is your destiny!”

“I guess—I guess so.” Gently, Obi turned the staff over in his hands, examining the moon crest on top of it, the ornate carvings on the handle. He did feel different.

“Seriously, though, I could lose the shorts, I’m getting a wedgie.”

Luna rolled her eyes—then she was pointing behind Obi, screaming something he couldn’t hear because there was a terrible pain in his back and he was skidding across the damaged floor—

Jadeite was a horrible twisted thing, leaning over him, blackened and grinning, hands charging with deadly green—

A single rose hit the floor in front of her feet and stuck.

Jadeite paused, straightened a little, looked up in confusion. Obi, dazed and aching, looked too, towards the entrance of the shop—

Silhouetted in the sunlight stood a lanky figure dressed in a tasteful black suit and flowing cape with red lining. A white mask covered the top half of her face.

She looked utterly calm as she threw another glinting rose, piercing Jadeite in the chest. The monster screamed and collapsed, finally lying still.

Obi blinked, hard.

“What.”

The girl stepped into the rubble, smiling mysteriously at Obi. Her hair was as red as the lining of her cape.

“You did well, Sailor Moon,” she said.

“Um,” Obi muttered intelligently, intoxicated by the sudden scent of flowers. “Who are you?”

“My name is--Tuxedo Mask.” The girl lost a little of her composure when she said the name, like she wasn’t quite used to saying it.

Obi very politely chose not to say no, duh.

“We will meet again.” Lifting her cape, Tuxedo Mask disappeared in a swirl of material.

Obi stared after her.

“Luna, please tell me one of the signs of concussion isn’t seeing pretty girls who throw roses at people.”

“It’s not,” griped Luna, glaring after the girl. “I didn’t like that.”

“Speak for yourself.” It hurt to stand, but Obi managed, despite having to get up on three-inch platforms.

“She can’t be trusted, Obi, weird people who pop in out of nowhere are suspicious!”

“She didn’t seem evil to me. She literally just saved me from being killed.”

“Tuxedo Mask,” mused the cat. “I’ll have to keep an eye out for her.”

“Me too,” said Obi, and he meant it.

____

@snowwhite-andtheknight

#obiyukibingo23 #obiyuki #obi #shirayuki #luna sailor moon #jadeite #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #sailor moon AU #sailor moon crystal AU #vera writes #I had such a blast writing this silly little thing

[snowwhite-andtheknight]

Summer Challenge Announcement: Obiyuki AU Bingo 2023!

Back by popular demand, Obiyuki AU Bingo!

Sign ups for the summer challenge start today 4/23 and go until 4/28! Please send an ask to the comm if you wish to participate; we will send back a confirmation that you are signed up. You will be messaged your board assignment by one of the mods on May 1st (for non-Americans, please be aware the boards go out according to EST, so you may get yours on May 2nd). Please remember these asks CANNOT BE ANONYMOUS.

What is AU bingo?: People who are interested in joining us for the summer challenge will sign up to receive a randomly generated bingo board of alternate universe prompts. To win the challenge, make bingo! We will be doing a round up post of all the works posted in the tag each week, followed by a big round up post at the end of the challenge

Run Dates: Jun 18th - Jul 29th Sign-Ups: Apr 23rd - Apr 28th Boards Assigned: May 1st Tag: #obiyukibingo23 Medias: Fic, art, edits or playlists

[PLEASE READ ALL GUIDELINES BEFORE POSTING YOUR WORKS]

Guidelines:

All work must be your own

The main pairing is Obi x Shirayuki

Must follow the AU prompt

Must be tagged #obiyukibingo23 within the first five tags

With tumblr’s tagging system on the fritz, please also @ the obiyuki comm in your entry

No works entered through the submission box will be accepted for this challenge

Works must be posted to tumblr to be eligible as fills! They post may redirect elsewhere (AO3, ffnet, deviant art, youtube, etc) but we need a tumblr post to reblog your progress!

Please label with your AU!

All NSFW content must be tagged and under a Read More!

You may post more than one entry a prompt, but it will only count for that square

One entry, no matter how many AUs it is applicable for, may only count as one square

Fics must be over 500 words to count as a fill

Fill 5 consecutive squares to win!

Fill 25 to make us all very impressed. I mean really, my goodness

Be nice

Play hard

Can I base my work off of other fanworks? (aka, make fanart of a fanfic, write fanfic based on fanart, make an edit of a fanfic or write a fanfic for a playlist, etc)

This is absolutely welcome! If your medium is the same (making a fanfic of a fanfic, or fanart inspired by fanart), please check with the creator of the original fanwork, but otherwise just credit the work that inspired you.

What works are considered valid entries?

Fic, art, edits & playlists. Please note, we are looking for transformative works; please do not simply palette swap characters from the AU source, or find & replace names in their plot. Reimagine what an AU would look like with AnS character in it! Fics must be 500 words+; art does not have to be a full colored finished piece, but at least a finished sketch; playlists between 8-12 songs.

#obiyukibingo23 #obiyuki #shiraobi #Obi x Shirayuki #Akagami no Shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair

[batgirlsay]

Falling Through Time

A Legend of Zelda AU Playlist for Obiyuki Bingo 2023 by @snowwhite-andtheknight

I was so excited to see Zelda on my bingo board! I’ve been playing Tears of the Kingdom almost every day since release date and I have so many Zelink feels… glad they also overlap with my Obiyuki feels! (This one is a more general Zelda playlist and has specific Obiyuki feels, but I am also posting a playlist for the first day of Zelink week too!)

There are time/memory related lyrics throughout the playlist, with a shift after the Louie Zong song to after they get reunited at the end of each game (if only I was able to get there…)

Falling Through Time

Ocarina of Time- Zelda’s Theme- Good Knight Productions You Fall When You Hesitate- Mae Playing With Fire- Brandon Flowers The Great War- Taylor Swift This River is Wild- The Killers My Valuable Hunting Knife- Guided By Voices Gerudo Valley Social Club- Louie Zong I Can Make You Feel Young Again- Copeland

Summary lyrics are cited after the cut:

You Fall When You Hesitate- Mae

Time machine, I'm adding up And I'm killing time all the while it’s time that's killing

Time machine, I want to go back To live in my past is exactly right where I want to be It's nostalgia haunting me

She says to me that You fall when you hesitate You crawl after tripping on your regrets You fall in and out of love again

Found the reason I could back down to dust See the daylight and the moon lit in the night above That's the treason but I do it for your love If I felt you But what if I failed you?

Playing With Fire- Brandon Flowers

That road outside that you've been taking home forever That'll be the same road that I take when I depart Those charcoal veins that hold this chosen land together May twist and turn but somewhere deep there is a heart

However dangerous the road, however distant These things won't compromise the will of the design

Ten thousand demons hammer down with every footstep Ten thousand angels rush the wind against my back

Rolling River of Truth, can you spare me a sip? The Holy Fountain of Youth has been reduced to a drip I've got this burning belief in salvation and love This notion may be naïve, but when push comes to shove I will till this ground

The Great War- Taylor Swift

Spineless in my tomb of silence Tore your banners down, took the battle underground

Flashes of the battle come back to me in a blur

All that bloodshed, crimson clover Sweet dream was over My hand was the one you reached for All throughout the Great War Always remember Tears on the lеtter I vowed not to cry anymore If wе survived the Great War

Soldier down on that icy ground Looked up at me with honor and truth

We can plant a memory garden Say a solemn prayer, place a poppy in my hair There's no morning glory, it was war, it wasn't fair And we will never go back

This River is Wild- The Killers

But you always hold your head up high Cause it's a long, long, long way down

You better run for the hills before they burn Listen to the sound of the world, don't watch it turn I just want to show you what I know And catch you when the current lets you go

I've been trying hard to do what's right But you know I could stay here all night And watch the clouds fall from the sky

My Valuable Hunting Knife- Guided By Voices

I want to start a new life With my valuable hunting knife She will shine like a new girl And I want to shout out our love to the world

Days, they will turn into nights But my valuable hunting knife It will not rust through the tears And it will not lose its appeal over years

I Can Make You Feel Young Again- Copeland

Take me now, take me anywhere you're going Cause I can't stay here; I won't make it long And this piece of my soul you're controlling In this time and this space where we belong, it's worsening

It's breaking down, as a reel of thread unwinding You're surfacing just to take me down When I feel like I'm dead, you're reviving me

A billion stars and here we are The same bit of dirt holding our weight And before it drags us under I can make you feel young again

I can make you feel nothing at all for the years that led you here Now all your tears that are falling will never show I can make you feel young again

#obiyukibingo23 #akagami no shirayukihime #snow white with the red hair #obiyuki #legend of zelda #zelink #playlist #lyrics #mae #brandon flowers #the killers #taylor swift #guided by voices #louie zong #copeland #the killers song always reminds me of playing twilight princess #partially coincidental totk references in the final song! #this panel also kinda reminds me of the depths

[ruleofexception]

No good deed

Crimson soaked fingertips tremble. Tears sink their fangs into the back of eyes and throat as her teeth grit over a sob masquerading as a scream.

The answer is in here somewhere. It has to be. If it’s not-

Her stomach heaves; heart threatens to snap ribs and tear through lungs as if they’re little more than paper husks. She steadies herself against the desk. Glares at the shadow-stained Grimmerie in front of her.

No. If there’s a way to help - to save him - then it’ll be in here. Somewhere.

Read more on A03

#obiyukibingo23 #ans #obiyuki #wizard of oz au #wicked au #tw: implied major character death #greatly exaggerated major character death #for anyone not familiar with Wicked this is a bit of a spoiler.. but I promise you he's not actually dead #i did not actually kill obi again. i swear it.

[claudeng80]

Sands Through the Hourglass Ch. 1

Time Travel AU

Shirayuki has fifteen minutes left before the hordes descend. Garrack handed out the latest test results in class this morning, and Shirayuki knows just how bad it’s going to be. She graded them, after all, and her phone’s been shut off very intentionally since last night. She’ll face her email this evening, after she’s had a good dinner and some soothing music.

But first she has two office hours to survive, and she intends to spend the fifteen minutes before that on the history department lounge couch doing exactly nothing. While it doesn’t look like much to the unenlightened viewer, its comfort level is unparalleled. Just sitting there is almost as good as a nap.

The frosted glass of the lounge door doesn’t show anyone at the table or the couch, just one silhouette perched in the window. Shirayuki’s heartrate picks up a bit- she hasn’t seen Zen in days. Maybe they can actually get a moment to talk, a surprise second indulgence for the day. The latch catches the way it always does, the hip bump needed to jolt the door open second nature now.

At least she doesn’t open her mouth before she’s all the way inside- she’s embarrassed herself in front of the undergrads enough times, honestly, there’s a reason they think she’s going to fix their grades and it has nothing to do with knowing Garrack’s login password- because it’s not Zen.

Read the rest on AO3

#obiyukibingo23 #time travel au #obiyuki #fanfic #in which shirayuki has a time machine

[sabraeal]

Brewed With Intent, Part 1

[Read on AO3]

Sequel to Practical Charms

It’s been three days since Shirayuki sat across from the boys on the 49, accordion seats contracting around every corner, and glowered a confession out of them. Three days since her unwitting participation in this ridiculous underground love potion scam was revealed, not only to her but to the most talented artificer in the city. And three days since Garrack has gone to ground, abandoning her shop-- and answering her texts, or phone calls-- to do city knows what. Probably wouldn’t even come to the front door either, if Obi even let her try.

Ah, now now, Miss. It’s impossible to make herself look straight at him, but she tried in that moment, only catching a glimpse of a grin. I think that might be, er, unrelated. Give it a couple days.

So she does. Three whole days of it, imagining every possible permutation of this discussion, breaking each argument down to its diction so that every word conveys the depth of her disappointment, and yet--

Yet, it could be going better.

“We went over this before you even brewed the first batch.” Garrack stretches her legs out under the table, sending her own scurrying back beneath her chair to make room. “The only active charm in the whole bottle is a perfectly legal infusion of Come-Hither. Everything else was just to fix the aftertaste.”

“I understand that.” What she doesn’t understand is how this whole conversation keeps slipping from her grip when she is the one who was wronged to begin with. “But rosehips are an amplifier of intent and a strengthener of will, which makes--”

“The whole shebang stronger, I know.” The frizzy mass of Garrack’s hair shakes with her head, like a wind rippling through autumn trees. “The whole point was to counteract the loss of potency from infusing rather than casting. At least, that was your explanation when you came up with it.”

“W-well, yes.” It’s not fair that all her pointed turns of phrase are being turned back on her, but there’s no way to say that without having to admit she’s losing ground. “But that was for a specific client, made to order.”

The girl had blown through the door soaked to the bone, umbrella turned so far inside out it looked like a crab on its back, and, well, if anyone in the shop was going to be sympathetic to the plight of a young woman with a distracted boyfriend, it was going to be Shirayuki. Especially that day.

“There’s a difference between making something like that for a person I can trust to use it on another consenting adult--” even if he was a bit preoccupied at the time “--and just...selling it to whoever walks into the shop!”

Garrack presses a hand to her sweater, fabric shifting to bare a shoulder speckled with thumbprint-sized bruises. “Now, I don’t think that’s quite fair. I’m sure plenty of those girls were also in established, consenting relationships.”

“Better be,” Obi snorts, sprawled across the sill like he’s the neighborhood cat. There’s too much of him for it to be comfortable; one leg dangles out the window to make room for the other to brace. On anyone else it would look unnatural, but on him-- well, it’s hard to look bad in black leather and dark denim. At least the way he wears it. “Don’t think any of them were looking to spend a whole Benjamin on a nice bottle.”

Shirayuki’s jaw hangs so low it might well catch flies. “You charged them a hundred dollars? For a Come Hither?”

“Oh, what are they going to do? Report me to the Better Business Bureau?” Garrack huffs, hiking her sweater over her shoulders. The little bruises dip beneath the line of her collar, tracing down past where Shirayuki thinks it’s polite to speculate. “Bought love potion from this vendor but turned out there was just tea inside. Extremely sane sounding. I’m sure they’ll follow up on that one right away.”

“The Emerald Lady might!”

It’s the sort of threat that would have had a whole room catch its breath where she came from; an audit from the Rose Court might well mean the end of a business at best, and at worse-- well, she’d lived it. But here, in Garrack’s cozy little holdout against the mundane, no one even bats an eyelash.

No, instead Garrack snorts, tossing her head like the world’s most stubborn pony. “Haki Arleon comes from a long line of charlatans and scoundrels. Her great grandfather is still cheating half-penny hacks out of their life savings, and he’s dead.”

She doesn’t so much see Obi’s mouth twitch as feel it. “Maybe it’ll keep this time.”

“Never does,” Garrack mutters. “Anyway, the City Mistress has a lot more pressing problems than pinning our ass to the cork board over some mundies spending their pocket money.”

The last time she checked, a hundred dollars was closer to her life savings than pocket money, but Shirayuki knows better than to haggle over dollar signs with someone who can still pay property taxes in Belltown. “Altogether the material components hardly cost twenty dollars. Why would you even think to--?”

“Labor.” Long fingers wrap around the handle of Garrack’s mug, thumb resting right over a honeybee as she takes a long drag from her cup. “Expertise. Time is money, Shirayuki, and the knowledge you gained during it makes it all the more dear. Charge just for components and you’re not even breaking even. Especially not with a talent like yours.”

It’s terrible how her cheeks heat, how even as she tries to tamp down on her satisfaction it just keeps crawling under the door, sending its little tendrils licking up her neck. “That’s four hundred percent profit, isn’t it? On a potion that won’t even work--”

“So you admit it.” Her eyebrows twitch up in victory. “It won’t work. So there’s no danger in selling it.”

“That’s not--” she should have known better than to get into this with Garrack; not even Obi tries to bargain with her, not after the first time “--there’s still a chance, if the recipient is inclined toward the, er, caster--”

“Exactly.” A smirk unfurls across her face the way red carpets do for royalty. “Both parties have to consent.”

Her fingers curl so tight the bones ache. “Attraction is hardly the same thing as consent.”

Garrack waves a hand, as if simple denial could dispel the dire moral implications of her actions the way she could a charm. “There’s no harm in giving a little push now and then.”

“A push.” The word leaves a bitter taste in her mouth.

“And that’s assuming any of it worked in the first place,” she sighs airily. “Which I doubt. What’s more likely is that a bunch of silly little girls wasted some of daddy’s money finding out the hard way that the school quarterback is into blondes or whatever.”

“Not so sure about that one, Chief.” Obi splits each word like a typewriter hits a period. “Sold too much not to have at least a few happy endings.”

Garrack shifts again, sweater slumping with her, and it’s not until she mutters, “In more ways that one,” that Shirayuki realizes those dark marks aren’t bruises, but-- but--

Bites. Bites because Shidan--

“In any case,” she sighs, “all’s well that ends well. Either they got what they wanted or they walked away disappointed, but either way, it was all legally above board.”

Shirayuki frowns. “That’s a very generous interpretation.”

“What can I say?” She shrugs, a cluster of those little love bites trailing down her collar bone, and ahh, Shirayuki could have survived not knowing how personally effective it had been for her boss. “I’m a generous person.”

Anyone else might actually provide an excuse to be excused, but Garrack simply unfurls herself just a hair shy of six feet and stalks from the room with the same level of satisfaction of a cat sashaying away from an empty birdcage. There’s nothing for it but to stare after her, wondering just how it all went wrong.

Obi cocks his head, threading himself through the sill. “All right there, Miss?”

“Yes. No.” She sighs, letting her palms relax against the tabletop. “I just...I really thought that would go better. Or...anywhere, I guess.”

The scent of sulfur snakes its way through the air; she’s so used to it now it’s almost comfortable. “That’s the problem with old goats like the Chief. They’ve been at it so long the goal posts change.”

She shakes her head, catching a glimpse of him from the corner of her eye. Even that much sends her eyes skittering across the table, looking for something more knowable. “That’s not really how morals are supposed to work, Obi.”

He blinks the way human eyes don’t. Too many eyelids, for one. “Maybe.”

Shirayuki collapses onto the window seat the way so many of her potions do in the last leg of their boil: with a sigh and a tangibly foul taste in her mouth. “I get that some people might want for something to happen, or even hope it would, all out of their control, but...just because you do, doesn’t mean you’re ready for it to happen now. For her to act like all’s well that ends well...”

Obi slips from the sill to the seat, long legs stretching across the floorboards. “Doesn’t quite jive with your experience, huh?”

Even at the other end of the cushion, his heat rolls over her; not the way an open fire does, so hot that you never forget it can burn, but more like a wood-burning stove, gently radiating warmth in a way that tempts her to scoot closer. “Yeah, something like that.”

A corner of his mouth twitches; if only she could look long enough to see if it was a smirk or a smile. “It’s heavy burden to be so cute when you’re unconscious.”

“If it just happened once, I could understand!” she huffs, crossing her arms. “But twice is just weird.”

“And different guys too,” he says, like she could somehow forget. “Guess you’re just that irresistible.”

“Don’t start.” He’s lucky mortal eyes can’t bear his aura, otherwise she’d give him such a glare. “I’m half convinced it’s a spell. Raj I can understand, but Zen is an entirely reasonable person, and still he--”

The thump is so quick, so sudden, that’s she’s on her feet before her words stop, heart pounding so loud she can’t hear Obi until he repeats, louder and slower, “You alright, Miss?”

He’s half out of his seat too, body twisted to put himself between her and the window, but--

The tension huffs from him on a sigh. “Ah.”

“O-obi?” She takes one shuffling step forward, reaching out but not quite daring to touch as she peers around him, into his cupped hands. “Oh!”

There’s a pigeon in his hands-- or a dove, maybe; she’d never quite known the difference besides color-- its wings flopping limply over his fingers, head hanging at an unnatural angle. Broken, she’d guess, probably from colliding with the window.

Her fingers bury themselves into fists. The last thing she needs is her magic to go wild with sympathy. “The poor thing. It must have just missed the opening...”

Obi shakes his head. “It’s cold.”

“Cold?” She leans closer, frowning. “But it only just--?”

Its whole body shivers, and with a blink of its glassy eyes, its neck swivels. “Shirayuki?”

She doesn’t scream, but whatever strangled noise escapes from her isn’t much better. “Is that...?”

“Suzu says this should work.” Yuzuri’s voice pours from its beak, as clear as if they were face to face. “Even though it’s weird. Anyway, Shidan’s finished your order. You should swing by and get it. It looks pretty dope or fly or whatever word Obi’s using for cool today.”

“Huh.” Obi lifts the thing, poking and prodding at its feather like the charm might pop out if he tries hard enough. “That’s sick.”

“It’s...something,” she agrees, willing her stomach not to turn. “Not what I--”

“End message!” the bird shrills. “Is that how you finish this thing off? Suzu--?”

It’s a clean cut that severs the sound from its beak. The body falls limp again, as if it had never moved.

“You don’t think...?” Shirayuki peers down at the grotesque display cradled in his palm, desperately trying not to think too hard about...any of it. “They didn’t...?”

“Ah, don’t worry, Miss.” Only Obi could sound positively jaunty in the face of questionably legal-- let alone moral-- magicks. “Pretty sure it was already dead.”

It’s a strange mental exercise, trying to decide whether reanimation is better than body borrowing, but she’s saved from having to think any further by Garrack sweeping in, Ryuu following resignedly in her wake. “Oh, is that one of Shidan’s creepy little messengers? I don’t think I’ll ever get used to them” 

Shirayuki blinks, trying to sweep frizzy blonde from her vision. “Oh, is he, ah, known for this?”

“No.” Garrack rocks back on her heels. “At least, not until recently. But one of his students has a talent for them, and it saves him having to dig in his pockets to put a charm on a dime or something.”

“On a dime?” She can see it now, Roosevelt’s profile turning to face her, serious as he says, the time is now. “Did it...talk?”

“I wish,” she huffs. “It would just glow, and do you know how easy it is to lose those things? Half the time I’d just go swing by myself just so I didn’t have to keep track of it. And he tells me that I need to learn responsibility and--”

“Couldn’t he just...text?” Shirayuki suggests, strained. “Or, er, call, I guess?”

Garrack frowns. “Where’s the drama in that?”

“Is this for the glamour?” Ryuu asks, pitched just loud enough to hear. “That’s...”

“Good?” Shirayuki supplies, when he doesn’t.

He nods. “Quick. I would have expected a week, at least. A month even, for his advanced charms.”

Obi’s brows hike toward his hairline. “It’s only been three days.”

Garrack grins, insufferable. “You’re welcome.”

It’s not until Shirayuki tugs her jacket off the hook, pulling the denim taut across her shoulders, that she dares to ask, “You don’t really think that, er...?”

Obi doesn’t answer so much as look attentive, all of his baleful gaze bent on her.

“It’s just...I know he’s the best artificer in the city.” She tugs the jacket tight over her chest, more from nerves than chill. “But not everyone wants to make the hike up to Capitol Hill and have to deal with, ah, mundanes. So surely...?”

He hums, a token display of support.

“He was probably already working on it.” She glances at him, as much as she can bear. “So it’s probably not that she...I mean, you don’t really think...?”

“Oh!” A wide flash of white hints at a grin. “That Garrack fucked us up the list? Absolutely.”

“Ahhh!” She claps her hands to her face. “You don’t have to say it that way. Maybe--?”

“Oh, my my. Is my favorite apprentice and her hellish escort on their way out?” Garrack turns the corner, a smile flanked by two ceramic cups. “Going to go reap the fruits of my labor?”

It’s no use, Shirayuki slumps. “Please don’t call it that.”

Her mouth sharps to a smirk. “A spade’s a spade, sweetheart.”

“Well, we’re not just doing that.” She infuses her tone with a sharp edge of officiousness, as if that might go some way in reminding anyone in this front hall that this is all supposed to be business, not-- not--

“Miss is gonna take us on our rounds too.” Shirayuki may not be able to bear his unholy aura long enough to see his expression, but she knows it must be a jaunty one from the way he kicks one leg over another and leans. “Put Shidan’s work through its paces, you know how it is.”

Garrack’s thick brows twitch, too suggestive for what amounts to a work meeting. “Mm, don’t I.”

Shirayuki fails stifle her sigh.

“Oh, don’t be like that,” Garrack clucks, and if she’s the one disappointed with the turn of this conversation. “Here, I know things got a little heated today. Have an olive branch.”

Shirayuki stares as the cup fits into her grip, Garrack giving her knuckles a small pat for good measure. The smell of something sweet and floral wafts up from the lid’s vent. “You made...tea?”

“Hey!” she huffs. “I know how to boil water!”

Obi snorts. “Experience says different.”

Garrack may fold her arms over her chest, may tilt her chin, all high-handed and cool, it only takes a single quirked brow for her to admit, “At least the electric kettle does.”

“Ah,” Obi sighs, flipping open the lid. “There it is.”

“All right, all right, if you’re quite done, why don’t you two head out already.” She watches him take sip, mouth curling. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

Out of the corner of her eyes, she catches the twitch of Obi’s eyebrows. “That’s a short list.”

It’s with a strange satisfaction that Garrack says, “It sure is.”

The door closes behind them, close enough that the displaced air shoots up her jacket, sending her shivering.

“Huh.” Obi takes another sip. “Well, that’s ominous.”

#obiyukibingo23 #obiyuki #snow white with the red hair #akagami no shirayukihime #urban fantasy AU #my fic #ans #i have been dying to flesh out this world for YEARS and finally I have an excuse 🤣 #for those who are wondering Obi was a demon Haruka summoned to harass Shirayuki #and then he had gone through a series of contract changes #Zen used to hold it but now I believe Shirayuki does #I MIGHT CHANGE MY MIND ON THAT LATER we'll see