#obiyukimadness

[traditional-with-a-twist]

@snowwhite-andtheknight

[hidetheremote]

Only One Bed (In Two Separate Rooms)

Sometimes,

all you can do

is lie in bed,

and hope

to fall asleep

before

you fall apart. -William C. Hannan

[notesintheflyleaf]

A Heavy Price

“Shit it’s dark.” Obi groused, the grime already seeping through his pants, leaching itself to his skin. He would need  two showers when this ordeal was over.  

“Well it’s a cave.” The voice that replied sounded too far away He tilted his head and used his shoulder to push the wandering earpiece back into his ear. “Hope you wore waterproof pants. That’s bat guano.”

Three showers, he mentally amended.

This job, while dirty in the literal sense, was far from the worst he had been tasked with , so he counted himself lucky. Go in, find the diadem, go home, give it to the rich folks. Definitely a cushy project. While he did not relish the filth, he’d take guano over blood any day.

“You should be comin up on the entrance. Tunnel looks tight. Might need to crawl.”

Obi cursed. He liked this shirt.

“Fine.” He adjusted his headlamp and looked for the tunnel.

A chorus of profanity trailed behind him as he inched his way through the tunnel. Roberts’ laughter informed him he was far too pleased with the situation, and Obi made a mental note to get back at him at the earliest possible convenience

Upon reaching a larger opening, it was just enough to squeeze his upper body into, allowing him freedom to get up onto his knees. He saw a soft blue glow from a hollow a few feet above.

If he were to reach enough he might be able to--

“Roberts. Any thoughts on a glow in here? Maybe bioluminescent fungus or something?” Obi vaguely recalled that something like that existed in the world, although if pressed he wouldn’t have known the location.

“Nanaki, you need a vacation.”

Drawn to the glow by some unspeakable force, his fingers twitched against his will.

“You’re right. The Alps maybe. I hear there’s nice spas.” He scarcely heard his own absent reply, his heart thrumming in his ears.

He stretched, feeling wary but curious. Wasn’t the diadem blue? Maybe some pocket of light was casting a reflection?

Maybe it would be better if he took a look? Carefully he slid to his feet, body crumpling inwards to make himself fit, chin digging into his own chest.

Obi let out a low whistle.  It was worth it. Somehow the ancient jewelry that sat before him was totally pristine. It shone with an ethereal light and without a second thought, one glove was already off his hand.

“Roberts I think we struck Diadem.” He said, knowing somewhere in his mind that he needed to report the status.

“Oooo, put it on princess I want to see how pretty you’ll be.” Came the mocking reply.

“Don’t be jealous that you don’t have the figure for heels.” He quipped back playfully, eyes locked in a hypnotic trance on the gem. He wanted to touch it, the draw was stronger than he had felt before. He wasn’t really the type to be drawn to intense luxury.

As soon as his fingers brushed the stone the whole area began to light up. Too bright. It burned his eyes and he squinted to get a look to no avail.

The light overtook him, enveloping him. It was warm. Soothing. Obi felt calm and at home. When was the last time he felt calm and at home?

---

“The diadem has a price, and the price is your soul?”

Lashes fluttered over green eyes, a little red stained her cheeks as she looked away.

“Yes.”

“You’ve been trapped in that thing, alone, for centuries?” A nod in reply. “And the only way to get you out is to split your soul or bond it to another.” Another nod, this one more hesitant.

There could be worse things than being bonded to a supernatural being

On the list of positives, he would probably get to quit that awful job.

“There’s no undoing it. It won’t lengthen your life or shorten mine.” Her voice was soft when she finally spoke. He would have guessed regret, but he didn’t have to, he felt it.

Her loneliness, the darkness, the boredom. An inquisitive mind like hers, trapped away in a crystal in pretty jewelry. Like a prize. It disgusted him. She didn’t deserve it.

Seeing a need for levity, Obi smirked at her.

“Fair enough. So how do we earn your freedom? Do I get three wishes if I rub you, and then I can wish you free?”

“Don’t tease me, I have been in there a long time.” Her pout was even cuter. The light that hit her horns cast a shadow over one side of her face, doing nothing to disguise her ever reddening cheeks.

“I’m not, well okay, a little, but not about freeing you. Look. I’ve got no family, no goals, no home. This job is all I have and sooner or later it’ll kill me. So let’s be teammates. After my lifespan ends you get sucked back in.” He couldn’t resist leaning in, taking in her scent, so foreign to him, so exciting. “Far be it from me to leave a lady in distress.”

Who would have thought that a creature from the underworld would be so damn cute and shy?

He extended a hand to her. “Partners?”

---

“For the record, I think this is a poor decision.”

Obi turned to Shirayuki with a smile. “Come on. When do I make poor decisions.”

Her pointed tail flicked out irritably, lip pursing in distaste. Obi wondered for the thousandth time how they would taste if he--Nope. 

 “Do you want me to itemize the list, or alphabetize it? And how much time do we have to waste because this might take a while.”

He loved it when she was cheeky.  He flashed her his most dazzling smile before extending his hand to her. The same way he did the day they met. Five years and dozens of missions exactly like this ago.

She turned away from his hand, but her tail still wrapped around his waist, allowing him to descend into the pit safely.

Her small stature didn’t betray her raw power. Likely because she was a daemon and her power wasn’t exactly mortal.

“The temple of Azrael. The temple of Baachut. The shrine of Caedus.”

“I get it, you don’t need to keep going.” He called back.

“Already? There‘s still 23 letters to go, and some have duplicates!”

He sighed. Finding the Diadem’s twin would not only prove tricky, but as the years went on, he wanted it less and less.

He hadn’t lost his drive to rescue her from her loneliness. It just began to dawn on him that the intimacy they shared was something he treasured.

He treasured her.

The differing flicks of her tail indicating different emotions. Her kindness. Her smile. The way her fingertips brushed his own.

A foreboding feeling took up residency in his gut. Something told him that today would be the day…

---

Her fingers grasped the necklace, the other piece of the set. It was as lovely as the diadem. “If we do this-” Obi began. He was watching her, he was always watching her. She knew some of his thoughts when they were especially loud. Could feel the comfort in touching each other that came from the threads of their souls being entwined. Was she ready to lose that?

She tucked the necklace into a separate box than the diadem. Placing both back in the lock box they owned.

“Let’s go home.” She said.

Obi looked like he might choke on his own tongue.

“But your freedom.” For once there wasn’t a single joke to hide behind, something he tried regardless of her ability to see through it.

“I’m free enough, for now. When the time comes, I’ll be able to break the spell.”

Obi sputtered. “What are we going to do now?”

“I hear the Alps are nice.” Shirayuki smiled. He didn’t move, so she wondered if he caught her intention.

She didn’t have to wonder long, as she was dipped backwards, lips pressed against his, brand new fireworks exploding behind her eyes.

They had never… This was…

Home. This was home. Obi’s lips, his smile, his skin.

Chance had bonded them. Choice had kept them together, a fact neither of them took for granted.

[owlsshadows]

Ryuu Found Family (obiyuki madness)

Sometimes family is a child genius, his hot-headed apprentice and her domesticated assassin.

Sometimes family means company on long nights in the library; a brilliant mind challenging and inspiring you. Someone to point out the obvious your eyes have not yet quite catch on. Someone to raise the right questions at the right time; someone to lift your spirits after a failure. A person nursing you back to health if you catch a cold – someone to brew a mug of hot herbal tea, sweetened with honey no matter how hard you try to hide your sweet tooth.

Sometimes family means that you have someone to teach you how to climb a tree and how to trip up a renowned foreign scholar, elegantly seasoning your petty move with a fine selection of curses from across the globe. A person to teach you how to cook – someone who would stuff you, with force if needed, on days you just immerse yourself a bit too deep in your research. Someone who does not quite understand your frenzy for books, but listens and offers a helping hand wordlessly. Someone who can surprise you from time to time.

Sometimes family means the lack of loneliness. It is akin to a ray of sunshine, light and warmth. With time, it piles up: smiles and tears and coughs and cries, laughter and words, all kinds of smells and spices.

Sometimes family teaches you to believe, to hold your hopes high against all odds.

Sometimes it helps you grow.

Yet another time, family is insufferable, with those two idiots you have known for what seems your entire life making the room stuffy – playing their own game, the same one they have had between them since the moment you know them, about stolen glances and shy smiles.

Sometimes you think family is a hassle.

One is blind, the other thinks he is unworthy. You would not love anything more than for these idiots to resolve their issues on their own. Yet, you treasure them too much not to offer a helping hand.

Shirayuki has opened your eyes to a lot of things – a few words at the right time and the right place, said nonchalantly, as if you were speaking about the weather – and she blushes, ears camouflaging themselves between her signature red hair.

Obi has given you a meaning – but for him to believe he is good enough, you cannot stage a play. He is way too clever and way too guarded not to notice. So you decide on the straightforward route, it suits you more anyway. You know Shirayuki hides just behind the corner, so you make him confess.

Sometimes family means that you end up in a tree, ogling your pair of idiots through the leaves to ensure they will not mess up – it is for your own comfort, you reason, it is to avoid any misunderstandings or unnecessary drama. It goes smoother than you expect – even if you have left out of your calculations that they find you, dragging you down and suffocating you in their embrace.

Sometimes family means getting terribly drunk for the first time in your life on the wedding of your favorite idiots.

Sometimes family means baby burp over your well organized notes.

[snowwhite-andtheknight]

Obiyuki Trope Madness: Master Post

Final Four, Round 1: Only One Bed vs. Found Family

Final Four, Round 2: Undercover as Lovers vs. Accidental Soul Bond

Championship: Found Family vs. Undercover as Lovers

[infinitelystrangemachinex]

Starlines - Obiyuki Star Wars AU (2/4)

Obiyukimadness “Only One Bed”

On her homeworld of Shili, Shirayuki had asked for glass to be built into her grass roof, letting in more light for her plants.

Everyone had thought she was crazy, making herself such easy prey for the giant, slavering orange akul like that. They prowled the savannah searching for the simplest of Togruta pickings. But with a bit of maboo bought from Shedu Maad merchants hung in her rafters, hardly a snout ever came snuffling at her makeshift skylight.

Shirayuki had always kept her feet so firmly on the ground. But she’d woken up each morning to three of the six moons rising, soon to be vanished in the light of Shili’s sun, and hoped. A clear, gentle betrayal.

Her eyes crack open stickily before she’s fully awake, and she stares up at a perfect disc of distant stars, hanging in forever. The galaxy - far behind her, but faithfully going nowhere.

Reality settles upon her sluggish senses in slow, splintering pieces of light and comfort that eventually coalesce into a clearer picture.

The hut. The roof is missing entirely, leaving the innards open to the sky. She is nestled in a bed of blankets, appropriated from some creature that had abandoned this place long ago, and surrounded by the utter ruin of broken, destroyed possessions and broken pieces of trees.

Shirayuki might never move from this bed, so deeply and sweetly buried in the blankets is she, so loathe to stir the lazy pulse of her heart. Especially since a heavy, warm weight has got her pinned here.

She’s staring at a tousled head of thick, black hair. Warm air fans across her throat in steady, tickling puffs.

Obi is half on top of her, his face tucked warmly into the hollow of her throat, one of his arms slung loosely over her waist while the other has curled upward to cup her shoulder. They lay at an angle with her left leg lowermost, but since her thighs are crooked up around his waist, she is far from uncomfortable.

Still, a sleepy, confused whine escapes her. Obi sighs in answer and shifts closer, his chest dragging against her belly, and oh, her eyelids flicker briefly shut.

“I’m not moving if you’re not,” he grumbles into her neck, voice rough with sleep, lips brushing her skin. Sensation splinters through her at every touch, and she squeezes her eyes shut. But he almost immediately sinks beneath the waves again, his weight melting into her.

After a year of basically solo looping the entire galaxy in a small starship, the feel of him, his weight holding her down, everywhere they brush together, is so painfully exquisite her toes curl. Since he’s tucked against her chest, her arms are free, and one of her hands cups the back of his neck. Her other slides into his hair and stays buried there, and why hadn’t they thought to at least try this sooner -

The blood rushes to her face so fast it hurts. They’d had far more important things to worry about.

She’s never held another person in her life, not like this. That it’s Obi in her arms - a Darksider, a Sith, and full-time nerfherder - is a breathless, unimaginable thing. She curls tighter around him, knees pressing into his ribs.

With an entire year spent in turns fearing, loathing, and laughing with him, it had escaped her notice just how badly she wanted to hold him.

Obi’s body stiffens - then shifts languidly, stirring. The Force is still a raw current all around them and Shirayuki can feel his presence rising in it from under the layer of sleep. Instinctively, she untangles herself from him and retreats to the edge of their odd blanket nest, and watches.

Feelings of peace - warmth. His limbs are heavy. This is a balm he has sorely needed, one he’d been wanting for some time. She sees the moment his eyes crack open, and in the soft predawn light, knows she’s the first thing he sees.

Obi hasn’t fully surfaced. His senses stir, and at the sight of her face, a great softness unfurls under his lowermost left rib, and there’s a spike of fire, like a tiny spark of electricity ricocheting through him. Accompanied by a deep, deep longing, bottomless and yearning.

Shirayuki thinks she might remember that raw moment for the rest of her life.

Then a flood rises. Turmoil, boiling from below, and Obi’s body locks in preparation to bolt to his feet.

“Obi.” Her voice is low, urgent, and she’s electrically alert now. “Is this you? Do I have all of you here?”

He doesn’t answer at first. The space between them is taut with possibility balancing on a knife’s point. Then, still lying on his side on the blankets, his eyes squeeze shut. A steady stream of air leaves his nose.

See for yourself echoes in the coils of the Force.

But there is, of course, the possibility that Obi is gone again, the moment of rest and clarity between them lost. He is still Sith, and she could be lying here all but defenseless in the jaws of a trap now that the maelstrom has passed, her powers sunk back tamely into her veins. Perhaps Obi doesn’t even know his own state himself. Her brow furrows. Obi peeks at her, and seeing her reluctance, his expression clouds over.

He sits up, blankets pooling in his lap. Tense. Rejected.

Before she knows what she’s doing, she’s bolting upward and reaching with her outstretched fingers for his cheek.

He flinches so hard her hand freezes in midair, inches from his skin. They stare at one another like utter strangers.

“I,” she begins - I’m sorry - and Obi’s throat flexes in a swallow. Then he recovers, mastering himself, and he grabs her wrist and presses his fingers between her knuckles to smooth her palm open against the side of his face, his gaze never leaving hers.

Shirayuki closes her eyes. This time, with the Force a tangible, snapping current all around her, it’s nothing to reach out and brush herself against the borders of Obi’s mind.

“You’re tired,” is immediately upon her lips, and she smiles. “And you…”

Images and sensations flow in a crosscurrent to her own thoughts, alien and familiar all at once, tumbling swiftly, and she has to breathe deeply and concentrate, count her heartbeats, to snatch their meaning. Obi’s hand tightens over hers, trapping it in the warmth between his gloved palm and his stubbled cheek.

Relief, she’s here with you, you’re safe, you want to help her, you want -

Soft skin against yours, that feeling keeps bobbing to the surface over and over, sending the current skittering and scattering in every which direction every time -

Obi huffs, and then a steady, concentrated stream of consciousness pushes against her. A great stretch of time, to you, it had felt like an eternity.

There had been a struggle. A fight inside of him, predators with their teeth sunk in to the gum and pulling in all directions. Where the Dark had been coiled inside him the way the Light laces her tissues and bones, it had begun to burgeon out of control, swallowing him whole.

Now I know what it’s like to lose yourself. Obi’s voice in her mind is absolute. I’m not letting that happen ever again.

Another voice fills her mind. A conversation they’d had once several cycles ago, when the days had still been good, when she had been scouring the Outer Rim planet by planet for every clue she could get her hands on and he had still been showing up at the most inopportune moments possible. A fond ache pulses in her breast.

The Dark is just a power you wield. Her voice. He’d been being so stubborn, trying to egg her on for some reason, trying to make her despise him. Good or evil, though, that’s a choice, it’s something you do.

And then, with one more push of his thoughts - the peace is shattered.

Shirayuki gasps and pulls her hand free, her chest smarting as though he’d stabbed her there. He lets her retreat.

“You’re going to stay with your master. Why?”

He’d broken free, hadn’t he? He’d come to her. He’d saved her, slept in her arms. Now things could be different. They could work together. They -

She wouldn’t have to be so very lonely -

The sun is rising, and Obi is leaning toward her, tawny skin golden against his black shirt; she leans back, wanting to slip out of the blankets, leave him and this inevitable betrayal behind.

She’s not sure if she can abide another one.

“The bond isn’t going to last much longer, Miss.” Obi’s expression is near pleading. “Listen to me. Whatever you’re planning - don’t tell me anything,” he says firmly, and she shuts her mouth. “I’ve already seen way too much. It’s hard enough as it is.” Then a quick, self-deprecating smile crosses his face. “Though, not blaming you if you want to cause more trouble for me, after everything I did…”

“I don’t know if I understand.”

“Miss. I need you to trust me just one more time.”

For once, the sensible thing to do would have been the easiest, as well. Get up, leave the warmth of the blankets, throw up her barriers, and shut Obi out for good.

But all these long years of fleeing - the slavers, the Sith, and now the Resistance and the Republic itself and the entire galaxy, too - and the only way she’s survived is by reaching out, not by shrinking away.

So Shirayuki stays nestled in the blankets and she lets Obi talk, and talk. When she brushes against his mind, he is overflowing with nothing but the the most confident of assurances. He trusts her with everything he has.

It hurts a bit. But she musters the barest fraction of that, and as the bond begins to slip shut, Obi’s presence beside her draining from her senses like sand through her fingers, Obi drags her toward him by the waist and she lets him, burying her face into his fading shoulder while he holds her close.

He’s shaking.

Let me have just this, just a little bit longer -

“Obi?” she whispers.

“Hm?”

“I can do this.” She clutches him tighter. He could betray her right this instant, turn to wherever his master is on his side of the galaxy and tell him all, and in the weakness of this moment, she thinks she would still cling to him anyway. “I can’t run forever.”

Obi chuckles, and his trembling ceases. It’s so much like the old him. “Ah, Miss. You were never running.”

Shirayuki is entwined with nothing but air, cold from a presence that never was. He’s gone.

The jungle planet had been the last gleaming breadcrumb in a train of them crossing a year’s worth of unexplored frontier. A year’s worth of endless planets, close calls, trading herbs and healing for her bread, of jumping at shadows. So when the Unrepentant touches down on a surface flushed and shining with fresh snow, Shirayuki very nearly ruins the moment by just barely not salting Lyrias’ sacred ground with her tears.

She’s treading the path of a fairytale. Now she’s a part of one herself.

A great obelisk rises to touch a features white sky. Behind it is the most beautiful building Shirayuki has ever seen - carved of actual stone, wrought with symbols and gleaming with veins of glistening blue kyber crystals, just as the Togruta stories of her childhood had told her.

The power inside her, no longer latent, stirs in her veins. Her pulse jumps, palms breaking out in a sweat - It’s just a power you wield. Nothing more.

When she finally musters the courage to approach the gates of the ancient Jedi temple, they groan open of their own accord. We’ve been waiting, young one.

“You don’t believe in the Force?” Obi snorts, disbelieving. “Haven’t you seen -”

“Yes,” says Shirayuki impatiently, poring over a cracking scroll unrolled on the floor of the flight deck. “What I don’t believe is that it should be - I guess - worshipped. Or thought of as… alive.”

“The will of the Force.”

“Nobody decides what happens to you except for you.” Obi laughs, and she flushes. “I’m not a Jedi, you know.”

“Well, neither am I, and yet here we are.”

That had been cycles ago, when times had been simpler. But Shirayuki is learning - sometimes there are places we’re simply meant to go to. Things we’re simply just meant to do.

And some things that, despite all our efforts, were never meant to be.

Obi’s face is stained a deep fluxing red in the glow of two screeching lightsabers, locked together and pushing fruitlessly. His lips curl back from his teeth, and the black-cloaked figure towering over him, bearing down with all his weight and the trembling veins of the Force, starts to overpower him.

The capital city of Wistal is in tatters. Shirayuki clings to the rubble of what had once been a beautiful hotel, and watches the scene as though she has slid into someone else’s skin. Detached.

In the depths of the Jedi temple, she had seen all of this. Everything.

We attack Wistal in two weeks, Obi had told her. It might be your only window.

In a blaze of burning sparks, Obi’s saber shortcircuits and he drops the extinguished metal hilt to the street. He leaps away, his master’s saber searing a shallow cut into his forearm - he crosses his arms over his stomach and draws two curved vibroblades from his belt, his teeth bared in a feral snarl.

He still thinks I’m his faithful apprentice. He thinks he’s already won. I can hold on until the attack.

Obi is a blur, vibroblades swiping wildly at every inch of his master that he can reach. But the Sith lord’s lightsaber whirls in calculated arcs and meets him blow for blow, and his dodges are impossibly quick, dreadfully perfect.

Shirayuki holds her breath, muscles coiling. Almost there -

Jagged green blaster bolts come streaking into the street from nowhere. Most of them converge on the Sith lord - he kicks Obi in the gut, raises his arm, and freezes them in midair. But more come raining down from the balconies of the burning white buildings and he cries out, trying to bat them out of the air with his saber -

And as Obi is closing in to land a timely blow, a crackling blue bolt strikes him in the chest. He crumples without a sound.

Shirayuki runs.

Obi - real, in the flesh, not just a projection of the Force, not just an impression of warmth and light and mischief on her senses - grabs her wrist when she heaves him into her lap.

“You’re heavier than the Force let on,” she tells him in a trembling voice, parting his robes and yanking up his shirt. The smell of burning human flesh nearly overwhelms her.

Obi must have tried to stop the bolt right before it struck - it’s the only reason he could still be alive. She tries to take a deep breath and chokes on stink and smoke and burning, but she hovers her hand over his chest anyway.

“Miss - priorities.” He tries to chuckle at her, but his voice is a horrible rasp - his pupils are pinpoints and his skin ashen. The grip on her wrist pulls, scrambling up her arm. Trying to draw her closer. “Your plan. My master. More important.”

Shirayuki’s lip trembles, and all she wants to do is curl over him, press her forehead to his, bury her terrors in his teasing laughter and gentle voice.

She wants to bury her failures even deeper.

“There is no plan.” Her arm supporting his shoulders twists so her hand can curve around the nape of his neck. “I saw everything, Obi. Your master - there’s nothing I can do. Nothing anyone can do.”

Obi stares at her so emptily, for a horrible second, she wonders if she’d answered his question too late.

This universe is just one of many. The temple had rung with the voices, practically sung with them. Every action you inscribe in this existence, young one, spawns before it limitless possibilities.

Show me, she’d said.

And she had seen this moment, colored and recast a million different ways. How, in the spans of existence splintering infinitely before her, Obi’s master prevailed every single time.

Such is the will of the Force.

With her head bowed over Obi’s, she flexes her hand open. His flesh, and everything beneath it, answers her call. Alter.

When it’s over, when she can no longer support Obi in her arms and she lets his shirt fall back into place and she sags backward on her haunches, Obi’s hand rises to brush over his chest. He smiles wryly, and then meets her gaze.

“Told you I knew your secret.” Then he lingers - expression falling - like he’s drinking her in.

“Come on.” She grabs his arm, prepares to lever them both to their feet. “Come with me. This time, you can come with me.”

But Obi’s gaze focuses on something over her shoulder. “Take her,” he tells - not her -

And frantic hands grasp her under the arms, pulling her from Obi, from the ash-covered ground, yanking her to her feet as the city burns around them, just as the Sith lord and his blazing red lightsaber come swooping down on top of them.

“Shirayuki, run with me! Shirayuki! Stop!”

Zen Wisteria’s frantic voice in her ear is not enough. But his strength is enough to drag her away, fighting and crying out someone else’s name, as Obi wavers on his feet in the destroyed street, facing down his master one last time.

The Sith lord lowers his hood, and red-veined, brilliant yellow eyes lock with Shirayuki’s.

A strange voice fills her head.

You who is strong with the Force. I’ve been looking for you, child.

There’s probably some universe somewhere, some plane of existence, where the Sith lord had more to say. He would have held out his hand and used the Force to wrench her from Zen’s protective grasp. He would have wheedled her with snakelike words, promises of glory she has never wanted.

But none of that matters. In this universe, as Zen and Shirayuki hesitate, wondering if they can run, wondering if they should fight -

Obi’s hand whips up, and the Force crashes into them both, sending them flying backward and slamming them to the ground. All the breath knocked out of her, Shirayuki levers herself up shakily onto her elbows. The last thing she sees is Obi’s other arm stretched for the sky, his fingers crooking into claws, bringing a burning building crashing down on top of both master and apprentice.

“This is dangerous,” Shirayuki finally says one day. This had been early on - barely a single week into her wild flight across the galaxy - and she can’t take Obi’s sinister, looming presence a second longer. “I’m going to close the bond.”

Obi frowns. A rare occurrence. You wound me. “You can’t.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Well - there might be a way.” The corner of his mouth quirks. “Stop thinking about me.”

For no reason at all, Shirayuki flushes from brow to chest. The nerve, the utter gall. “What?”

“C’mon, Miss. You had to have noticed by now. The connection only opens when we’re both thinking about each other.” He is sickeningly smug. “So just stop thinking about me - think about calming plants instead. Or your senator back in Wistal. And all your problems are solved.”

Shirayuki splutters, and it’s exactly like her Ada back home on Shili. Shirayuki, if you can go without thinking about banthas for five whole minutes, I’ll give you this coin.

Something is struggling in her chest, something pushing on all the right places in her heart - thoughts of home always did that to her. She looks away. “Then you should stop thinking about me, too. Right?”

Obi had only smiled at her sidelong through the bond, mysterious as ever, and unreachable as the stars. “I wonder.”

The Republic - if it had ever been that - had been a mere puppet of the Sith lord and his followes for a long time. The game folds in on itself with breathtaking speed. 

Floating somewhere miles above the surface of a jewel-green planet, hidden from both Sith and Resistance alike, Shirayuki breathes out, slow. She shakes back the sleeve of her fresh robe from her wrist and jabs her finger at a rotating blue symbol on the holo-map below her. It lights up red at her touch. “Here.”

Senator Wisteria - Zen - braces his hands beside her on the table. He’s careful to not let his skin touch the map, and he leans over the spot she’s touched. “You’re sure.”

“Absolutely. He’s there - somewhere. I can feel it.”

The bond hasn’t opened for long, long weeks. But there are some things you just know.

“All right, then.” Zen straightens, dusts off his hands. He gives her a roguish smile. “Guess you’d better suit up.”

[codango]

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

Chapters: 1/3 Fandom: 赤髪の白雪姫 | Akagami no Shirayukihime Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Obi/Shirayuki (Akagami no Shirayukihime) Characters: Obi (Akagami no Shirayukihime), Shirayuki (Akagami no Shirayukihime), Garack Gazelt, Yuzuri (Akagami no Shirayukihime) Additional Tags: Undercover as a Couple, Sharing a Bed, Alternate Universe - Leverage Fusion, Spies & Secret Agents, First Meetings, Short One Shot, Co-workers, No Smut Summary:

“Suzu did tell me how Yuzuri gets, ma’am.” Shirayuki paced the width of the tiny room. To the window, to the armoire, and back again. “I understand if she couldn’t resist, but—”

“There’s not a lot of room for pranks in this job, Shirayuki.” Gazelt’s voice sounded a bit high. Like she was holding back laughter.

Shirayuki narrowed her eyes at the horrible watercolor next to the window. It was crooked. “I rather got the impression from Yuzuri that she goes out of her way to ensure there is.” ----- Special for ObiYukiMadness, Day 1: Only One Bed, I give you a Leverage AU! Shirayuki is the newbie with the science degree hired on by a team of undercover operatives, who may or may not be doing anything legal. Her first mission comes with a roommate.

[traditional-with-a-twist]

He made a different call

@snowwhite-andtheknight