#obiyukiweek

[aeroplaneblues]

A Set🍃

I just love them so🥰

[glitterberry]

Obiyuki Week | Day 4: Viennese Waltz Themes: Scandal, Tradition, Falling in Love; Silver

[bubblesthemonsterartist]

this mess i made i made with love

She's calling for him.

He's not a boy, hasn't been for quite sometime - maybe even ever - but his throat aches and his eyes swell before spilling over. Gods, what a mess his heart makes.

Her voice calls out again, more familiar to him than his own skin, more beloved than all the riches he has broken glass and jaws for. She's calling for him, and he doesn't have the power, doesn't have the strength necessary to pretend that he didn't hear. That he doesn't know.

Those moments that meant something to him, meant something to her, too.

Nights like this are made for confessions, and before her is more of a confessional than he deserves.

"Miss." How to tell her everything that word has come to mean to him? He couldn't possibly. So instead he tries to stuff every last feeling into that single syllable instead. Obi points to his chest. To the scar she would have never let become a mark, and that stone meant to guide him through the darkest night. His heart. Still bleeding, still helplessly limping along.

It's all he has to offer.

"Will you keep this for me?"

[onedivinemisfit]

Obiyukiweek24 day 1 - ‘White’ like the snows of Windhelm. Meetcute in the Grey Quarter~

As this comes uncolored, ofc that means it goes on the list of free linearts. Transparent png here ⬇️

[obsidiancorner]

Unedited, not proof read. No time. No brain power. Just had to get it out. 570 words. Canon-adjacent because Google Lens is hardly accurate so I did my fandom duty and took some liberties but it's ObiYuki week and I had a burst of inspiration because today's chapter is everything so I ran with it.

Then Decide

“If I decide I want to go to a new place…”

Innocent words spoken in a conversation that took place in a time that feels so very long ago needle at Shirayuki’s brain as she bows low to King Izana and Prince Zen’s uncle. He has already dismissed Zen from his house and he aims to send Obi away, too, leaving her with a Bergatt she doesn’t really know as her guard. 

She’s never had any trouble handling the nobility. At this point, she’s had years of practice serving the nobility their hubris for their dinner and even she doesn’t really quite understand how she does it without incurring their ire. But, this? This moment? 

This moment feels like a precipice that can change everything. It will change everything. It is everything. It’s everything that feels like home to her at risk. To take Obi from her is to take her home from her. 

Her nerves choke her making it hard to breathe and tears are threatening to spill. Obi can’t keep them together right now. Only she can. Only she can save the life they’ve built together for the past several years.

That’s the crux of the problem isn’t it? For years now, it’s been them against the world. A world where neither of them were born; a world where neither of them have ever felt they truly belong. In Lilias, surrounded by their friends, their found family, that’s where they do belong. Not with the nobility and not apart. 

Jiran could deny her. He could still send Obi away, back to Zen at Wistal or Wirant or wherever he will be finding himself in the days to come but that isn't really Obi's place. His place is with her. Yet it is well within Jiran's right to decide that he doesn’t want Obi to be under his roof for any reason and she would have to live with it. 

Or would she?

“Then decide something,” she says to herself but not without some volume to it. There's steel in her conviction and she can do this. She has to do this.

Her eyes close and she takes a deep breath. Swallowing down the fear, the tears, and the anxiety is tough work but she manages in silence as she stands up as tall as she can. Back straight, shoulders down and just a bit back, with her chin held high. She can lay it all on the line for him. For them. 

“Sir Obi’s position as my guard was given to him by none other than Prince Zen,” she says, proud of the way her voice manages to stay strong. “As such, I respectfully ask that he be allowed to stay as my guard.” She’s almost managed to get it out. All she needs to do is drive it home. “I’m free to leave your estate, if he is forced to leave, correct?”

There it is. It’s all on the line. She can disregard King Izana, Prince Zen, their estranged uncle. It doesn’t matter. The only thing that matters is he is by her side, where he should be. There will always be somewhere else for them to go. They could go back to Tanbarun. They could go live with her father in the mountains. They don’t need Clarines. Clarines needs them. The only thing that matters to her is that she gets to keep him with her. 

She decided and he is her choice. 

[sabraeal]

A Fire's Light From Far Away

[Read on AO3]

Obiyukiweek 2023, Day 5: Woo

It was on four legs that Obi had run to Sereg, and it was on four that he left it, the ever-night sky bright with its new constellations. Not the ones his mistress has taught him— the hunter with his shield and sword aloft, the vain queen turned on her head, the two plows that carving Boann’s furrow through the stars. None of those hang in this night, so new that the air still smells of smoke and steel, beeswax and lethe but a fading memory.

But his hound nose scents it still, strong enough that he could follow it around in circles, spiraling closer and closer to where the enemy of his master’s master laid broken on the castle floor, cursing the day that the Wisteria line dropped from its branch. He’ll be taken soon, away from this knowe that only savors faintly of honey and deep into one steeped in it, forced to submit to a punishment fitting his crimes. What His Majesty will see fit to inflict him, only the gods can say; the aes sidhe are hard to kill as a rule, and the daoine harder still, but to revolt against a liege like this, against the high king himself—

Ah, well. It’s a good thing it’s not him who must swing that axe. Or pluck the bough from the rowan tree or whatever else kind of torture these half-gods can devise. No, his only duty is to his mistress, and it is to her that he races beneath this strange sky.

Beneath his fur, the wound itches. A four inch gouge torn into his side, not by iron or steel but by tooth alone. A glancing blow from a grinning mouth, a message writ deep in his skin. A man more mortal than he would not have weathered well, but copper had flooded his mouth and knit it true, and a few weeks care and rest had seen it healed, better than new. Save for the scar, of course, but he had not just been teasing when he told Sir that lasses loved a man with a little character carved into him.

Most did, at least. His mistress…well, she’d like the way it healed more.

*

What took days on the journey to takes mere hours from. The knowe’s shadows no longer resist his call, folding over his fur like a well-missed blanket. Sereg is no small domain, but with the blessing of his master and the surety of the shadows beneath his feet, Obi crosses it with no more trouble than a sleeping child draws breath.

He only slows when he feels that first tug of the veil on his fur, tendrils of awareness curling itself deep. Miss always shivers at this stage, telling him it’s spiderwebs against her skin, but to him— to him it is a caress, a promise. A seductive song that makes his magic sing, even as his geasa squeeze tight.

It’s then that he shifts, pelt ripping along his spine, ebbing up his legs in great, heaving waves until arms and flesh are bared. There’s no pain, not to return to himself, but iron and copper floods his mouth, so thick he has to spit to dull the taste. Obi rises from his crouch, brushing the last bit of wiry fur from his trousers. There’s miles left to go, ones crossed better with four legs rather than two, but well—

Obi takes his first step and nearly tumbles into the scattering leaves below him. Haah, it’d been a long while since he’d walked the earth in man’s shape. If he was going to see his mistress, better to practice, to look like he’d been a man more often than monster these past few weeks. He’d hate to slip in front of her, to show her just what sort of beast he could become if the right hand tugged on his lead.

She’s take Master to task, for one. It brings a wolfish grin to his lips, imagining the wag of her finger, the flush on her cheeks. What a lark it would be to see his cunning girl stand before an aes sidhe and accuse him of misusing his most versatile tool, his most loyal hound.

Or it would be, before she’d turn all that fire on him, each of her words rattling the chains lashed across his body, delivering their delicious sting. The air may be cold, but oh, a warmth flushes beneath his skin, stirring parts of him best left slumbering.

Haah, and that would be before she saw the scar. Oh, how the skin between her brows would pucker and furrow, the soft touch of her fingers tracing along the straight slash across his abdomen—

His muscles there tense with delicious anticipation, heart fluttering beneath the cage of his ribs. Only a few more miles now, he knows, tucking his hands deep into the pockets of his coat. His chin lifts, eyes tracing the shimmering cowpath across the heavens. Soon, soon.

With the shine of familiar stars washing over him, Obi turns, setting himself on the path he’s always been meant to walk. To the road that will bring him to his miss.

*

“Ho there!” A squat palm raises in greeting as the gates swing open, a squatter man following behind it, a bulldog made from human parts. “Is that our Good Neighbor’s best hound trotting home?”

“Careful there, Jirou,” Obi warns as the man ambles out to meet him. “There’s no hand holding this lead. You’re liable to get bitten if you play too rough.”

“Aye, aye, I know well enough.” With a fonder smile than a beast like him deserves, one of those broad hands claps his back, warmth burning through even the heft of his jacket. “It’s good to see you, boy. You’ve been well-missed around these parts.”

His tongue tangles around the taunt he’d meant to sling from it. “Ah, me?”

Jirou squeezes his shoulder, falling into step beside him. “Aye, you, lad. Thought Hiro might well pass away from the pining. Be glad the younger lot took the third watch tonight, otherwise you’d have no hope of getting to your bed before morning.”

Ah, but it not not his bed he longs to see, not when the embers smoldering in his chest flare to flames, burning with the same intensity they have since Miss fasted their hands at dawn’s first light and drew his oath from him, since she swore with all the power in her bones, you are mine. She’s here, somewhere, among the market’s press, and he—

“All right then,” Jirou chuckles. “I can see well enough that I won’t be getting a good word from ye until it’s done. Hie ye back to your mistress then, I trust ye remember the way?”

A laugh scrapes up from the depths of his chest, singed by the blaze within. “The hills could take my eyes and ears both, and I could still find my way to her.”

The guardsman may roll his eyes, may sigh like he’s a man lost, but his mouth twitches all the say. “You young men. Of with ye already, and spare me from the embarrassment of ye lovemaking.”

There’s a protest in him, a denial worn to its familiar shape, but there’s no patience left in him to still his feet long enough to give it. Not when that fire in him burns with so singular a purpose, not just a hazy glow at his edges, as it should be, but something that reaches out to him even as he reaches toward it, a different beast entirely—

He has only a moment to ponder it, to wonder at this new shape before it pulls his attention up the road, right to where the path draws to a small crest, and atop it— ah, he would know that color red anywhere, that taste of apples that washes over his tongue, spice making his nose sting. His hand rises with his heart to great her—

��Stay there!” His muscles clamp before his ears catch the command, rooting him to the spot. Oh, how sweet it is to be stung by her in this way, for his blood to rush and bring pleasure rolling over him, head to toe. He couldn’t move even if he wanted to, but haah, with his veins humming like this, he could hardly care.

At least until he realizes how complete the command is, how easily he submitted to it— too much, even for the pleasure of it. As if the compulsion had grown stronger in his absence, as if his body missed having her will hold him. As if something had changed.

It’s not until he sees how she runs, breathless and wild, that he realizes: perhaps it isn’t him who has.

Her hands clasp around his forearms, so hard he’s surprised his bones don’t creak from the pressure. She might even leave a mark, and ah, that’s best not thought about when he can feel her heat burning through his sleeves, when she’s so close that the scent of her magic clogs his nose. It doesn’t so much brush over him as swallow whole, enveloping him as firmly as she once had. Years ago now, back when His Majesty had first sent her to Lyrias, but it seems his body has not forgotten the feel.

And yet the physical distance remains. Already this is too close; copper must flood her mouth to touch him so, a bite so bitter most flinch, but not his miss. No, she just stares at him as if she wishes she could close this space between them, as if she were a woman lost and left to thirst, and he her first glimpse of water.

“You can be at ease, my lady.” It’s too breathless for his liking, but he cannot bear to raise his voice, cannot dare to find the strength. “Your sweet prince is tucked back in his knowe, safe and sound. The Lady Kiki and Sir as well.”

He might have slapped her for how she flinches, jaw slack as her sense comes back to her. “Oh, Zen…? I…ah, good. That’s…good to hear.”

Her grip eases, though it does not remove itself. No, instead her thumbs rub where they lay against his arm’s soft underbelly, tickling the skin at his wrists.

“Miss,” he breathes, confusion turning to mist between them. “It’s late. You should be abed.”

“I couldn’t…” Her lips press together as she looks up at him, just as lost as he. “I couldn’t sleep. Not when you were coming home.”

“How did you know that I would be…?” He shakes his head. “Did Sereg send word?”

“No.” Her brow furrows so sweetly his lips tingle. “I just…knew.”

His ribbon weaves through her hair, his awareness of it throbbing with the beat of his heart. She just knew. The way he’d just known in Tanbarun, her presence so bright and obvious the moment he’d fallen through Umihebi’s knowe.

Miss sits back on her heels, staring up into his eyes with an intensity that commands him as thoroughly as he words ever have. “Welcome home, Obi.”

The warmth that floods him is nothing like her sting. His breath catches, eyes blowing wide.

“Oh!” Her gaze drops to where she holds him, hands slipping from where they rest. “Sorry, I—”

“Miss,” he manages, but there’s no words that can convey the joy that pulses through him, no action that can dispel this lightning in his body save lifting her in his arms. He spins her, giddy, laughter flinging from his lungs with abandon, and—

“Ah!” And, yikes, that’s more than a sting. “That’s a lot of pain.”

“Obi.” She struggles against him until he sets her down, but then she does not flee, oh no, she bends closer, gloves probing at his side. “Did you—?”

“Ah, Miss, just a little flesh wound.” He waves a hand. “Nothing to worry yourself about. Didn’t even tear a stitch.”

“Stitches?” Her mouth pulls into a thin line. “I think I’ll be the judge of that.”

“Now, now.” His head fly up, placating. “There’s no sheep gut still strung through me! I promise I took good care of it. Let them sew it up real nice an everything.”

“Hm.” She’s hardly convinced. “Take off your shirt.”

It’s a concerted force of will to keep his hands off his jacket, but he fights it, if only to tease, “My lady, your wish is ever my command, but surely you don’t mean to ravage me in the marketplace.”

Her gaze rakes up him like nails on flesh, and ah, maybe she does.

“Fine, keep it on until we get to the exam room,” she tells him, a small smile on her lips. “Then we’ll see just how well you’ve behaved.”

“Oh, Miss,” he hums, following after her. “I’m sure you’ll find I’ve only been the best boy.”

[claudeng80]

Changeling, Ch. 5

* twenty-four weeks after the leaf

Shirayuki had been right all along to be suspicious. Obi was a poisoned present and the entire matter was a conspiracy.

“Lunchtime,” Obi declared, removing the mortar from her hands as cleanly as though it had been greased and replacing it with a sandwich. Across the room, Higata nodded approvingly. She missed him and his easily evaded attempts to manage her.

“I’m not hungry,” she argued, reaching for her work. Her chair was comfortable, with the pillow Obi had found that was just the right shape to support her back, and she hadn’t planned on getting up for some time. He set the mortar beyond her reach, guarded behind him in a way she already knew she wouldn’t be able to bypass. Her joints were too sore and her balance too unreliable for wrestling. She held out her hand for it, but Obi just nodded to the sandwich.

Read the rest on AO3

[snowwhite-andtheknight]

Obiyukiweek 2024 Masterpost

We have reach the end of Obiyukiweek 2024, and what an exciting one it was! Spurred on by Sorata's submission of Ch 136, we had 35 words total from 13 different participants, as well as two people who manages to post every day! Than you so much to everyone who participated, including the ones who struggled through to post in our bonus week! We literally could not do this without all of you.

Works By Day

[Day 1: Quadrille | Day 2: Foxtrot | Day 3: Paso Doble | Day 4: Viennese Waltz | Day 5: Rhumba | Day 6: Tango | Day 7: Free Day]

[Works by Creator under the cut]

@aeroplaneblues A Set

@another-miracle if not for the stars

@batgirlsay Fallen Threads Across the Dance Floor

@bubblesthemonsterartist i told the stars about you oaths muffled by pillows [NSFW] the poison is in the tail this mess I made I made with love

@claudeng80 in the circle of your arms

@glitterberry Blue Change of Partners face to face a good luck charm I came with you it’s yours now Paso Doble

@itspotatobee It’s too late for running

@miinah13 little moments

@obsidiancorner THEN DECIDE

@onedivinemisfit Blue under a blue moon if you are both quite finished? I’ll take all of you In the snows of Windhelm a little more fortune than a cookie much ado about sleeping arrangements red like the blood I’ll shed to avenge you

@sabraeal a heart felled by you, held by you; Chapter 2 Sic Semper Monstrum, Chapter 10

@what-plant-metaphor-am-i Swept off their feet

@writing-my-mind-ink Always by Your Side, Chapter 4 Always by Your Side, Chapter 5 Always by Your Side, Chapter 6 Always by Your Side, Chapter 7 Always by Your Side, Chapter 8 Memories Like Stars, Chapter 1 What Haunts the Shadows, Chapter 1

[tinwhiskerpress]

Binderary, 4 - books I messed up and had to fix.

Revery by balfrey- this one is a Dragon Age collection. I know just about nothing about Dragon Age, so I just tried to make it look elegant.

The cover is half bound with graphite bookcloth and black and gold textured paper. The endpapers are a yellow Florentine print, and there are actually two layers of them. I had this single section Bradel binding fully complete, was admiring my work- and the textblock just fell out. Somehow the pamphlet knot had come undone and I couldn't fix it in place, so I pulled it out, resewed it, glued the knot this time, and glued it into the case with new endpapers.

The Story of Us is a collection of 2016 Obiyukiweek stories by @kaedix (not on AO3, Tumblr only). My snafu for this one actually turned into one of my favorite covers - it was originally going to be a normal half binding with the chiyogami paper and homemade bookcloth, but somehow I messed up the measurements for the paper and cut it too small.

So I printed the title on some cardstock to see how it filled the gap, and I love how it turned out. It's not exactly even if you look close, but that just means it's handmade.

[traditional-with-a-twist]

Day 7: Loyalty

"For you, I ... refuse my name”

[glitterberry]

Obiyuki Week | Day 2: Foxtrot Themes: Compatibility, Banter, Swept Off Their Feet; Blue

[xbreathoffreshairx]

Let’s all appreciate this for what it is, love in its purest form.

[kaitou-cure-prism12]

#watch me struggle for weeks now to make sense of this plot #the timeline is somewhere around 1190 #europe is a mess #obi faces racism #shirayuki struggles in a time with few if any womens' rights #she flourished in the convent #she's not spiritual #not much #but BOOKS #and LEARNING?? #that she can do #if it means adhering to the Rule so be it #she will be a Learned Woman #yisss #raj: KNOCK KNOCK #shirayuki: FUCK #obi is like #the random casualty here #Absolutely No Idea what he Signed up for #and he's trying to be a Good Boy but Sister Yuki makes it really hard #she wants the holy life surely #he's just a bastard risen to knighthood by coincidence #and an infidel to boot #gotta stomp this urge to flood her with chivalric gestures - @onedivinemisfit

What little discipline I channeled the last few weeks for bingo is evaporating, and fast (not helped by the fact that I have a new gorgeous computer to play with) so have some medieval!au sketches for the upcoming Obiyukiweek~

Originally I was only gonna dedicate one day to this particular idea, but, alas, I was *tempted*. So we’re gonna go full-on messy chaos, introducing novice!Shirayuki, and Moorish knight!Obi whoop!

French commoner-girl Shirayuki entered a convent to escape crippling debts after her grandparents died, but is now on the run again, because of Raj ofc, the overly amorous prince of Angevin. She escaped the cloister with the help of an injured knight in service of the Holy Roman Emperor, Obi the “Moor”, who keeps insisting he only accepted knighthood for the conveniences it brought him. He… admittedly underestimated what he was getting into when he agreed to sneak Shirayuki out of France…

Guess who’s gonna want to pick Jen’s brain some more as my brain history drivers update?

AnS © Akizuki Sorata Art: Me

[thelionshoarde]

obiyuki fic - mature

been in a slump, and then i made the mistake of checking out the obiyukiweek prompts and oh ho ho guess who suddenly wrote some fucking Good Omens fusion shit for these two? jesus fuck

(but i deceived you with false virtue)

[sabraeal]

For fic writer asks: 💘, 🎉,🎈,🕯,🎙and 💌!!

💘Is there any posted fic you want to rework/re-edit/re-write?

I've been thinking about this the past few days, and I think my biggest "oh I'd love to go back and rework this" is A Lion to Terrify the Wolves. We have so much more plot to work with now that Shirayuki's started doing the Northern diplomacy bits of the story, stuff I could really dig into especially if we get some good info from this next arc with Zen & Izana's uncle. Plus it was a fic mostly cobbled together from prompts during my second prompt-a-thon, so actually sitting down and giving it the long form treatment I like to give my multichaps would be nice.

🎉how often do you celebrate completing & posting a work? how often do you give yourself the credit/validation that you seek from others when you post?

I post regularly so I don't really stop to reflect all that much before moving onto the next thing. It's a little different when I finish a multi-chap-- I definitely give myself a good pat on the back then.

🎈describe your style as a writer; is it fixed? does it change?

Oh, definitely changes according to what the fic needs. Completely dependent on setting and POV.

🕯️was there a fic that was really hard on you to write, or took you to a place you didn't think it would take you?

I've definitely said this before, but All That Remains consistently is the biggest labor of love out of any of my fics, especially the chapters in the palace (which is just about all of them right now). The structure is a pain to keep track of, the actual prose is difficult, and the subject matter is definitely hard to write about. I love it SO MUCH but I always have to put my whole head into it.

🎙️which one of your fics would you like someone to make a pod-fic of?

I've going to be so basic about this because I think it's the one that would be in highest demand, but Seven Suitors for Shirayuki. It's complete, it's popular, and I'm sure people would have fun with it

💌share something with us about an up-and-coming work (WIP) that has you excited!

I'm currently working on a new AU as a gift and I have completely thrown out my original plan of a fight scene to add more Lilias crew stuff and I can already tell I'll have no regrets. Now all I have to do if figure out what POV I'm working in 🤣

[claudeng80]

Changeling, ch. 4

  * nineteen weeks after the leaf

“Everything seems to be fine, physically.” Garrack toweled off her hands, and Shirayuki sat up on the examining table. “No recurrences of the nausea and fainting?”

“It was an unusual occurrence, I promise. I’ve been feeling fine since.” The last thing she wanted was to make a habit of being carried back to the pharmacy. “Aside from the heartburn. And the fact that I’m tired, my feet hurt, and now my navel’s irritated too.” Softened and stretched outward, it rubbed against the inside of her clothes.

“I see. There’s not much to do about that- it’ll get acclimated, and at least it should go back to normal after the baby’s born.”

“Normal sounds so far away,” Shirayuki said with a sigh. It wasn’t like having a child would bring any less change into her life. But a sore navel just felt like adding insult to injury.

Read the rest on AO3