#Samurai Heart (Some Like It Hot!!)

[gintama-polls]

After three months of polling, the Gintama OP/ED Music Tournament winner is:

"Samurai Heart (Some Like It Hot!) (サムライハート)" by SPYAIR

Thanks to everyone who voted! Seeing everyone's opinions on these songs made it extra entertaining.

A Spotify playlist with 67 of the songs (it doesn't include "Kiri Musubi" by DOES) can still be found here.

Preparations for the next long tournament has started. You can find more information on this post.

Finally, please enjoy this performance of "Samurai Heart (Some Like It Hot!)" from the Gintama Ginmaku Zenya Matsuri 2013.

[mysticsnoopy]

i think the best thing about starting ace attorney and knowing nothing about the series is at first thinking Phoenix is a normal guy with wacky shenanigans but through out the trilogy you realize "huh this guy is actually pretty weird" but so much crazy shit happens to and around him that he seems not as crazy as whatever shit he has going on

[subbykittyboythoughts]

i need jungle i'm afraid

[wordswhisperinthedark]

THE FAMILY EVER 😍😭❤️

[awxcoffeexno]

giving him a reason

logan howlett x human!reader

fic masterlist

summary: you've been on the run from the yakuza and are taking refuge in an old, forgotten family home. logan's been protecting you this whole while because that's just who logan is.

content: i've lifted the setting straight from the wolverine (2013). reader is taking mariko's place--reader is mariko, mariko is reader (no names are taken tho). lovemaking ensues. this fic is super tender and gentle because bitches need to remember how tender and gentle logan really is (i'm bitches). this is porn with no plot lolol. f!reader.

warnings: extremely 18+ content. MDNI. i'll kill u if you do. tender love making, logan goes down on reader like a champ, piv, reader is a virgin but logan's vvvvvvvvv gentle and caring, there's hardly any talking but there is proper consent taking, logan just wants to take care of reader, all is good in the world (at least for now), and logan's lost his healing powers so several mentions of him having bullet wounds.

word count: 3k (oops? might've gotten a teeny tiny bit carried away)

a/n: back at it again, but publishing my first nsfw fic, praying y'all don't hate me. if you don't like this, istg the nsfw version of claw worship is NEVER seeing light of day.

you hear him groan behind the door and the sound makes your heart catch.

you and logan have been on your feet all day, save for the train ride to the small village in nagasaki you've finally reached. running from the yakuza had decidedly not been your plan for the day after your grandfather's funeral but what choice did you have in coming here really?

not to mention... logan saved your life yesterday. several times. he was shot seven times per what the doctor told you.

and he is not healing. your grandfather told you that kuzuri had exceptional healing powers. he'd told you this several times. but logan is not healing at all and it makes you tic. he'd told you that this was the doing of your grandfather's doctor. you cannot imagine the agony he must be in.

you've never done well with seeing or hearing people in pain. yukio always suspected you had some type of emotionally perceptive powers but you don't think so. you just have an inherent need to help and that's that.

carefully, hopefully noiselessly, you slide the door to the bedroom open and though he has his back to the door, his neck is already craning towards you. apparently whatever that doctor lady did to take his healing powers did not dull his hearing.

he's standing shirtless, feet shoulder width apart to keep his balance, skin glistening from a sheen of sweat.

"may i see?" you ask and he takes a long, deep breath.

you stand in silence, at first waiting for him to decide and then watching him turn around, bloodied black shirt in hand and an uneasy vulnerability in his eyes.

his stitches look mostly in place apart from the ones on the wound on his abdomen that have started to bleed. you pad over and reach a steady hand out to touch gingerly around the wound.

logan's jaw tightens but he lets you examine him, his breath warm on your face.

he's burning hot and it would be startling but he'd explained yesterday that it's normal for him. his fever had started when he was 9 and it never broke. so you ignore the unnatural temperature of his skin and step away to find him a cloth and some hot water to clean himself with.

when you return, however, he has clearly already showered and is trying to tie a dark kimono on. you have no idea where he found it and his efforts on keeping it in place force you to bite back a smile.

"let me." you offer, putting the contents of your hand aside to help him.

he immediately pulls his hands away in defeat and you find yourself barely an inch away from him yet again. his breath on you makes your toes curl this time. there's something different about his stance, something... more inviting.

"you need this tied like a proper samurai," you explain as you work on the obi.

there's a moment of silence, the pitter pattering of the rain comforting in the silence. he's thinking, you realise.

"your grandfather called me a ronin." his voice is low. tentative. "a samurai without a master. he said i was destined to live forever... with no reason to live."

that's probably the most you've heard him speak.

you swallow thickly. "was he right?"

"yes," he says, voice laced with such melancholy, it makes you ache.

he has taken seven bullets for you knowing he isn't healing. dodged perhaps a hundred more whilst protecting you.

you remember how he'd stood directly in an open doorway in front of a gun-wielding yakuza man to distract him so that you could run. you'll never forget the sound of those bullets hitting his metal skeleton. like nails on a chalkboard.

he'd put his life on the line for you over and over and over again.

aren't you reason enough then? haven't you become reason enough? after everything you've both been through? together?

you muster up all the courage you can and stuff it into one word. "still?"

your eyes dart up to his for a flash before coming back down to finish up. you pull your hands away but... but after the two dreadfully long days that you both have spent together... after seeing him fight to so furiously to keep you safe the way he did... after everything, you simply cannot bear the thought of stepping back.

neither can he apparently because one of his large, warm paws comes up and cups your cheek, ever so slowly pulling you into a kiss.

something about you has been haunting him since he first looked into your eyes three days ago at your family home in the suburbs of tokyo. especially after you, like a goddamned fool, tried to jump off the roof. he cannot pretend to understand why he's been so taken with you but he knows if he hadn't stopped you from jumping that day, another part of him would've died.

he supposes it's something about the saddest eyes on some of the most beautiful women ever that draw him to them. first kayla, then jean, and now... you. and that's only in the last half-century.

so he kisses you, warm and gentle and desperate to comfort. he kisses you like that until you mewl into his mouth, soft and needy. and then his own need shifts.

still careful to be gentle, his hands slip into your hair to hold the back of your neck to angle you better for himself. he's a tall man and leaning too far down is causing him pain he isn't very used to.

you feel so small in his hold, his hand wrapped around the entirety of the back of your neck, fingers resting under your ears, soothing your tingling skin.

pulling away a little, you run a thumb across his cheek. a small, very small smile spreads across his lips.

"hey." he says, voice low and soft, making you blush.

this should feel wrong. he's the kuzuri your grandfather told you bedtime stories about. the kuzuri whose bravery and determination gave you the strength to also face your nightmares as a little girl. you shouldn't be doing this.

but maybe that's why it feels right. you feel safe around him. truly and wholly safe; something not harada or even your own father has ever made you feel. you've known this kuzuri your whole life and you know he'll protect you.

you don't even bother thinking about how you're engaged to noburo. no, you've heard enough whispers about him sleeping with other women after your engagement to him. it doesn't faze you in the slightest.

so you kiss him again, wrapping your arms around him and pressing your lips to his smile. you feel one of his hands run down your back, coming to a stop right atop the bow of your obi, sending a shiver of thrill down your spine.

you've never felt this excitement before. you and harada had never gotten this far and noburo... well, something about his predator like advances made you want to throw up, so you never even let him this close.

but here you are, in the arms of kuzuri, a literal predator, and you feel... warm. nice.

he looks at you, brows dipping in an ask for consent. when you nod, sucking your lip between your teeth, he yanks the obi open and gently slips your kimono off one shoulder.

your soft, smooth skin makes him bite back a primal growl. he'd hate to scare you off, but standing here in front of him in the glow of the moonlight, you look so edible.

leaning in, making your tummy do a backflip, he presses a hot, open mouthed kiss to your shoulder. it makes you squeak and hold onto him tighter lest your knees betray you.

"logan!" you whisper with a gasp, feeling his teeth sink in and your feet leave the ground as he scoops you into his arms and takes you to the mattress in the middle of the room.

carefully, he kneels onto the floor and sets you down, his movement so light and tender it makes your heart ache.

pressing another kiss to your throat and then your mouth, he moves to place himself onto the mattress, between your legs.

you look at him with such big doe eyes, he cannot help but bring your hands together and press a soft kiss in the middle of your palms.

he then moves to undo your kimono like a wrapped present and take you in fully.

you're beautiful. the moonlight makes you shine, so perfectly womanly and delicate in his gaze.

reverently, he bends forward, right hand wrapping around your left thigh and pulling your legs apart so he can finally claim you with his mouth. his wounds ache for relief, the position actual torture but he barely even notices, so taken he is by your presence.

you push a lithe hand into his hair when you first feel his tongue, tugging as your hips arch up and you cry out his name.

"logan, god–"

he smiles into your mound, not having expected such a reaction this quick, but it only makes sense. you've both been so wound up after everything, you obviously need this.

"i know, princess," he coos as he licks a stripe across your leaking pussy all the way up to your clit.

he brings his lips around the little bundle of nerves and sucks experimentally and he's forced to hold your hips down when you moan out loud again. he was not expecting you to be loud in bed but he sees absolutely no reason to complain.

his tongue works on you expertly, undoing you with every lick and stroke and bite and suck. his fingers squeeze into your sides painfully hard, so badly wanting to mark you as his. he runs his hands down to your thighs and gently pulls them around his neck, sitting up to relieve the pain in his wounds, pulling you up with him.

"lo–"

"i've got you, you're okay," he reassures immediately, making your tummy flip again. he's so so so gentle and it kills you to have seen him as nothing but a brute until you reached the village.

his mouth continues to perform its delicious hot magic on your nerves as your eyes roll back in your head and you unconsciously reach up for one of your bared breasts. he freezes when he notices your movement, distracted like a cat having heard a mouse scampering across a field.

your eyes fly open to finding him watching your movements with a dark and hungry lust.

"don't stop," he urges and though his voice is strained, it isn't unkind. if anything, it almost sounds pleading.

how can you possibly deny him that? especially when he says it in that voice, looking at you with that expression.

so you continue, cupping a handful of your breast and squeezing gently, making yourself moan. he groans into your heat and buries his mouth back against your pussy, eyes never leaving your hands.

he continues his good work, watching you like a hawk as you knead your breasts, biting your lip. carefully, you circle your finger around one nipple as he sucks on your clit again.

you lose yourself to it, the rhythm of playing with yourself, the beautiful way it harmonises with his mouth, it's all so delicious. just like that, you feel yourself winding up, up, up...

"c'mon, princess," he encourages, "let go for me."

and you fall. fast and slow, all at once, right over the edge. you fall and fall and fall, and he continues to do the wicked thing with his tongue around your clit, lapping at your pussy and you give your everything to him.

he works you through it, moaning your name softly, his hands bruising your thighs until you slump in his hold. gently pulling your legs off his shoulders, he sets you down and crawls over you.

his hands come to rest on either side of your head and the warmth is so inviting, the scent of tobacco and his earthy musk filling your senses.

"can you give me another, angel?" he asks, kissing you right on the mouth so that you can taste yourself on his tongue; heaven, the mix of his need and your release tastes like heaven.

you shake your head no, too overstimulated but he's already working his way down to your breasts, leaving wet, hot kisses in his wake. and when he gets to one nipple and sucks it into his mouth with a soft groan, it sparks the fire right back up in your core.

"watching you play with yourself..." he murmurs, trailing off as he licks a flat stripe up the valley of your breasts before looking up at you.

the look in his eyes and his unrelenting mouth make you whine. "logan... need you."

that makes him smirk. how quickly he's worked you out.

"yeah? don't worry, babygirl," and he's spreading your legs apart again, "i'll take care of you."

he pulls the kimono off himself so quickly, you suspect it might have something to do with the claws that retract into his hand. you didn't even realise when he took them out.

he's... glorious. every muscle in his body is taut and stretched across his body like a work of art. his tan skin is dusted with hair so fine it makes your mouth water.

your eyes cross his pecs, his wounds, his bruises, lower and lower until... fuck. he's... big. big and so red, surely it must be painful.

he brings a hand up to your face and you think he's going to cover your mouth but he simply says, "lick."

you oblige shyly, savouring the salt of his skin. he pulls it away, spitting and then wrapping his surprisingly long and thick fingers around his cock. he runs it up and down the length, watching you with such intensity, it makes you blush as he positions himself in front of your opening and you bite your lip, looking up as he crowds you again.

you feel him push into you and within seconds, he's already stretching you open so wide it makes you grab the pillow behind your head in desperation.

he stills, gauging you. he knows this feeling. he's felt it in other women before; the squeezing of walls so tight there could only be one explanation. you're a virgin. shit, he needs to be careful.

rubbing your thighs with both hands, he gently and carefully pushes in just a little bit more.

"never done this before?" he asks, leaning down to press the softest kiss to your lips.

of course he's right. you have no idea how he knows but it makes you redden that he's caught onto your inexperience. are you making it that obvious? oh god, are you not making this good for him?!

immediately noticing your agitation, he pulls all the way out and kisses you again.

"easy... easy," he says, stroking your hair away from your face. "just gotta relax."

his voice is so even, so warm and soothing, that you cannot help but nod.

"good girl," he smiles encouragingly, once again positioning himself at your entrance.

he pushes in again and this time it's easier. you aren't quite so wound up and he slides in smoother because he's already made you adequately wet. still, he goes slowly, making sure it is good for you.

until you realise he's going too slow.

"lo–" you gasp, voice more a squeak than you'd like. "more– need more, please..."

around anyone else you'd feel pathetic. begging for something so filthy, so raw. but with logan, it's so comfortable. knowing he'll give you anything you ask for, even if you've known each other only half a week.

so he pushes himself completely into you, and he's so fucking big, so fucking much inside you as he whispers words of encouragement into your ears, kissing and biting at your neck. the ache of the stretching almost immediately gives way to a sharp pleasure that shoots through you straight from his tip and into every last nerve in your body.

it makes you wrap both hands around him, needing so desperately to be as close to him as possible.

you initiate the kiss this time as he starts moving in you. you slip your tongue into his mouth, sliding it against his, making him groan. the sound is so delicious, you roll your hips to cause it again. his hands grasp your waist, steading you, moaning your name around your tongue.

one of his hands comes up to grab the back of your neck again, taking charge of the kiss as he starts thrusting into you with more vigour.

you cannot imagine a better feeling than being right here. being held by him, being kissed by him, and being filled by him.

tentatively, you squeeze around him, realising you're reaching another orgasm quickly. he growls into your mouth at that, picking up further speed. it makes your hips buck and you're skin feel like it's on fire.

"logan, i'm... i'm..."

"me too, angel," he grunts.

and with one final thrust he presses all the way intp you, making you cry out as you come undone again. he snarls your name, a man possessed, the squeezing and fluttering of your walls pushing him over his own edge.

he fills you up, forehead coming down to rest against yours. he pants softly, never having felt tired like this before. but he realises... he doesnt mind it so much, not when he's tired because he got to make love to you.

you kiss him sweetly, breaking him out of his thoughts and he smiles at you.

"so beautiful," he murmurs, pulling out of you and lying down next to you.

he tugs you onto his chest and presses a kiss into your hair.

"logan?" you say, so spent your eyes are already drooping.

"hmm?"

"still?" you say and he realises you're repeating his question from earlier.

he hugs you tightly at that, wrapping his arms around you, warm and possessive.

"no. i don't think so."

--

wrote this at 6 in the morning before work so if there's errors, it's not my fault :))))

ik everyone hates the 2013 movie but i rewatched it recently and i remembered every last line. fuck me it's soooooo good.

really hope u like it tho.

love, d <3

--

retroactively tagging @techwrecker for being a cutie in the comments in all my other fics 🙂‍↔️

[michirukaioureincarnate]

The Blade's Shelter

A Mizu Oneshot

Fandom: Blue Eye Samurai Pairing: Mizu x Reader Genre(s): Fluff 𖹭𖹭𖹭 | Smut 𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭𖹭 | Angst 𖹭 Theme(s): First time | Friends w/ benefits Warning(s): Sexual themes (consensual) | Slightly edited/proofread Summary: After Mizu stumbles into your hiding spot like an injured stray, you two form a silent arrangement of give and take until she gives you more than you can handle. Reading Stats: 6980 words | 27 min read Disclaimer: All characters are consenting adults | Aged 21+

─────────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────────── A/n: bruh I started writing this AGES ago, like, I'm talking MONTHS and MONTHS ago. Idk what's up with me and writing cuz it's been hard to find joy in the process over the past few years despite being excited about my ideas. Glad that I got this over with, finally. Anyhooo, hope y'all enjoy it <3 ─────────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆────────────

⋅ ⚔ ⋅

The bitterness in your mouth made you think your gums were bleeding all the time. It started when you married into a family of well-renowned sumurais, with no protest from Mizu when you broke the news to her.

She hadn't reacted at all, perhaps because becoming a spinster wouldn't bode well for someone of your standing. You were hoping she'd save you from your pre-written fate, just as she had escaped hers. After all, women were simply pawns for negotiating where the wealth went and stayed.

Despite your musings of fleeing the upcoming nuptials, you stayed. Not because you were weak, but because you realized you couldn't do much for Mizu if you didn't go through with it.

⋅ ⚔ ⋅

She often took refuge in the empty barn on your father's estate, and you'd bribed the farmer for his silence in order to tend to her whenever she returned. The barn was your safe space to get away from the frivolities of daily life, until Mizu rolled in quietly through the top floor window one night—and nearly gave you a heart attack—when escaping from some city guards. They bled all over the floor despite seeming cool and collected.

Then they passed out.

You couldn't make sense of how someone could've scaled the barn so quietly and swung themselves in so easily from the roof. It was even more shocking when you found out that someone was a woman.

A very handsome one.

That's how it started. You tending to her wounds, and her waking up in the middle of being bandaged and flipping you onto your back with a dagger to your throat. The strangest part was her patting around for her amber-stained spectacles to put them on before opening her eyes. Warm brown eyes through the honeyed glass. She made sense of the situation just as quickly and got off you, wincing as she clutched her wound. It took some insistence to get her to stay so you could bring her some food, and she complied, eventually falling asleep in the hay. She was gone the next morning, much to your dismay, but came back because she wanted to repay you for your hospitality.

And for not ratting her out to the authorities as well.

It was a blood-stained hair comb of gold with a beautiful lotus of rose quartz petals. That thoroughly intimidated you, and the woman seemed to take some kind of sick pleasure in it before wiping away the still-wet crimson splatters.

"It belonged to a woman who fought for her destiny and sacrificed herself very happily for it," she said as she wagged the comb at you. "Hopefully this reminds you to make better choices in your own pursuit."

Shock was an understatement. "How did you–"

"You're quite loud when you're angry," she smirked. "Also, maybe don't accidentally spill hot tea on suitors that could kill you."

You scoffed and left to get her some dinner. "Stay here. I haven't eaten tonight. You might as well join me."

You gave her your name, and she gave you hers. Mizu. just Mizu. The strange woman who'd drop in every now and then with something to bargain in exchange for food and a warm place to sleep. You understood her intention quite quickly, so you went along with the silent contract, especially since she was quite mindful of the things she brought. Somehow, she always knew what you wanted that week, and you began wondering if you really were all that loud when you talked.

And so began conversations about life and dreams in whispers, but only from your end. She'd listen absently, usually on the verge of sleep until she'd start snoring. That was only until fall started rolling in slowly through the summer months, and she'd be eating slower. You'd start yapping as soon as you were done stuffing your face, and she'd listen with distracted nods. Then you noticed that she'd be done eating sooner and would sat hunched over crossed legs, arms outstretched to rest her wrists on her knees with eyes downcast, probably tuning you out as she gathered her bearings for the evening.

And then she started looking at you. Small glances at first until she had enough courage to look right at you as you talked. Frankly, you weren't ready for her direct and steady gaze. It was so intense behind those yellow-tinted glasses gleaming in the light of the oil lamp. Her eyes were warm like the bark of the sakura bonsai in your room.

It startled you. "W-what is it?"

She raised her brows dubiously. "Nothing? You were saying?"

You narrowed your eyes at her and continued your spiel about a poetry book you were gifted by a suitor. He was attempting to come off as open-minded about women being literate, but ended up offending you with the works of a man who clearly viewed women as beneathe even animals.

Mizu's head slowly tilted to the side, an elbow balanced on her knee to lift her fist, resting her cheek upon its knuckles as she continued to listen. You felt hot in the ears and looked away.

"I-I should let you sleep, I suppose," you stammered. "Long day tomorrow."

"More suitors to chase away?" she asked, a chortle behind her throat. "I'll do you a favor in exchange for missing today's payment."

Your head snapped over to her. "Mizu, I never saw them as payments. I...assumed they were gifts."

"Nothing's ever free. Neither should be your hospitality. Or your silence. Or the farmer's."

You sighed. "You don't have to pay for tonight."

"Then I'm incurring debt."

"No!" you groaned exasperatedly and shot up to your feet, swiping the tray of empty dishes from before her and rushing to the steps. "Just sleep, Mizu. We'll discuss this later."

The next morning, you found a pair of weighted gauntlets by the stack of hay Mizu had claimed as her resting spot. Metal, and quiet heavy. You'd noticed them on her wrists and ankles before.

"Goodness..." you gasped as you picked them up. "Heavy!"

How she could move with those on was beyond your comprehension, except that she must be exceptionally strong. Well, you knew that from the first time you and her met, and how she flipped you over. It was unusual for a woman to have that kind of strength, but it was inspiring to you.

A note on the ground caught your attention.

Collateral, it read. You rolled your eyes and safely put the gauntlets away where no one would see. That evening, Mizu came with her "payment". A book with a beautiful deep blue ribbon embroidered in gold.

Mizu looked quite despondent when she held it out. You took it cautiously—almost fearful, really—and noticed that it was slightly charred in some places. You leafed through it. Poetry.

"She would've wanted it to go to someone who'd appreciate it..." Mizu muttered as she walked past you to settled down onto the hay.

You turned to her inquisitively. "Won't you eat?"

"Don't have an appetite," she grumbled and slightly curled into herself, pulling the corner of the folded blanket over her body. You were confused and looked through the book a little more, finding some pages with smudged ink, as if the writer had cried over them. There were tiny splatters of something dark—blood. As you turned the pages, you noticed the writing becoming more erratic, and sentences becoming nonsensical.

You exaled sharply as something akin to grief came over you. "Mizu, is this...what happened?"

She only sighed. Whatever the truth was, you couldn't imagine how tragic it must've been for someone like Mizu to be affected by it. Even more so, how tragic life must've been for the one who wrote the poetry. Holding the notebook to your chest, you pulled the gauntlets out from their hiding place on the beam above and slowly walked over to her, lowering onto your knees.

"Mizu," you said softly, "whatever it was, don't punish yourself. Please eat."

She sighed again, more deeply than before. "I'm...too tired."

"Then let me help," she said. "I...don't have change for your payment, so let me account for it."

You couldn't believe that it pulled a chuckle from Mizu as she weakly turned onto her back. That's when you noticed the ash on her cheekbone and jaw. Her clothes smelled of smoke...and something else. Burned flesh, but only a hint of it.

You didn't want to think about what she'd been through that day.

Arranging the hay behind her, she leaned back against it to sit up as you pulled the tray over. You softened the bread in the thick soup, hoping it wouldn't have Mizu chewing too much. As you raised the deep spoon to her lips, you caught her watching you intently from behind her amber frames. Warmth rose to your cheeks, and you set your lips in a thin line to avoid making a strange face of embarrassment. You looked at her mouth, watching her lips glisten with a thin sheen of soup.

Much to your surprise, you were overcome with the urge to wipe them. With your own lips.

Mizu quickly licked them clean and snapped you out of your intrusive thoughts, and heat flared around your neck. You turned away quickly to fill up the spoon with more soup and bread, trying to compose yourself in those few seconds. When you faced her again, she had a smirk on her face.

You wanted to smack it away.

"What?" you demanded, your voice much higher than you expected it to be.

Mizu only shook her head lightly and reajusted her glasses. "It's amusing to see someone of your social standing be so..."

"Subservient?" you offered sourly.

She shook her head. "Nurturing."

It came out so soft and tender that your lips parted in surprise. It didn't help with the flush creeping down your shoulders. "We're taught to be, though. We have to care for our husbands this way eventually."

"Ahh," she nodded teasingly, "so I'm your practice husband."

"Mizu!"

She only gave you a lopsided grin before taking the spoon in your hand to feed herself. "Eat your dinner. The change is accounted for, I believe."

You rolled your eyes and did as told, happy to have an excuse to not burn up under her gaze despite the autumn chill. Eating faster than normal, you were hyperaware of Mizu watching you. Constantly.

"What is it?" you hissed at her from behind your bowl of soup. "Is there something on my face?"

She shrugged. "You're just...pretty."

"Huh? Why—you—" you scoffed. "What are you playing at?"

She shrugged again. "I don't blame your family for rushing to marry you off. You're pretty, and men see that. You make yourself even more desirable by making yourself unattainable. Must be a headache for your father."

"What on earth do you mean?"

She raised a brow at you over her own bowl of soup that she sipped from. Tipping her head back to finish it up, she set the bowl down and wiped her mouth. "Word's on the street that you're a challenge to conquer. It's got some Daimyōs talking. Even heard rumors about how you're setting up booby traps for suitors to get through."

"Oh, those aren't rumors," you said immediately before slapping a hand on your mouth. That came out too easily. "Please don't tell anyone I'm doing it on purpose. My parents don't know. They think people are being ridiculous."

Mizu grinned that same lopsided grin again. "Quite the woman you are. Who are you waiting for exactly?"

You.

The thought came to you without hesitation, and you felt embarrassed. It made no sense. Mizu was a woman. How could you, as a woman, feel for another woman? But it just felt so natural for some reason.

You'd never liked anyone so much. Ever.

"I'm waiting for no one," you grunted. "You know that."

"You're waiting for something, that's for sure."

With a huff, you gathered the empty dishes and piled them onto the tray. You didn't want to be interrogated only to be laughed at, especially when she knew everything about you.

And you knew nothing but her name.

"What about you, then?" you demanded. "What's your deal? You come and go as you please, but I don't even know if you're a criminal."

"A secret for a secret, eh?" she said thoughtfully as she fell deeper into the hay, hands clasped over her stomach. "Tough bargain. I have too many, and neither will satisfy any of your curiosities."

"How can someone have too many secrets?" you said on the verge of annoyance. "Does no one know anything about you?"

She raised her brow at you with a pointed look as she reached for her straw Kasa hat, placing it over her face as she relaxed back completely. Before you knew it, she was breathing deeply, but not snoring.

You had one question, though.

Setting the tray down, you shuffled over to her and got down on your knees. With a hooked finger under the brim of her Kasa, you pulled it up to reveal her face. Her eyes scrunched behind her glasses as the light of the oil lamp sneaked in.

"What is it?" she asked.

"Your glasses," you stated. "Tell me why you wear them."

"And get myself killed?"

"You're so dramatic, Mizu," you grumbled.

She popped open an eye. "If you're so curious, take them off yourself."

Simple enough, you thought, and moved to do so. Your lack of attentiveness came as no surprise to Mizu as she grabbed your outstretched hand by the wrist and moved like lightning. And then you were on your back with hands pinned over your head, straddled by Mizu.

Your face was on fire.

Past the bitter scent of combat and injury, she smelled of sweet wood, incense, a hint of sweat, and some of the staleness of hay.

"Did you forget what you're dealing with?" she laughed deeply from her chest, and you cleared your throat as you tried to find the words to say. She was pretty up close as she swept an endearing gaze your way, as if she thought of you as nothing more than a defenseless fawn who couldn't walk yet.

"I-I don't know what you are," you stammered. "Also, how do you move that fast?!"

It was then that her glasses slid a little lower down her nose. Only a little, but just enough for you to get a glimpse of something where it shouldn't be.

Blue.

Her eyes were blue.

You gasped, and Mizu's hands were off you in a flash as she pushed her glasses back up. She curled away from you, almost scandalized as she shoved herself up to stand with a displeased grunt.

"M-Mizu, I didn't–"

"It wasn't your fault," she cut in so coldly that you felt the chill deep in your bones. "I was careless. Too careless. I let my guard down, and that was a mistake."

"It's really not that serious."

"Not to you," she seethed over her shoulder, glaring through her golden spectacles rendering her beautiful blue irises a molten brown of fury. She was angry, though not at you. "I should go."

Before you could say anything, she'd gathered her things in a flash and slipped out of the window.

And she didn't come back.

⋅ ⚔ ⋅

You never stopped going to the barn. It was your safe space, after all. Autumn came, but Mizu never showed herself.

Sometimes you felt like you were being watched, or that a foreign shadow flitted past, but you'd ignore it. Other times, you caught a whiff of her scent, but you knew you were just imagining it.

You missed her, but you never said it out loud. All you'd do is leave food out for her every evening, and come back to it untouched, stale, and cold.

Until the first morning of winter.

The bowl was empty, and there was a beautiful Kanzashi with ornaments of purple iris flowers hanging off a braided thread.

You'd just broken your favorite Kanzashi last night.

"Mizu?" you gasped, looking around desperately. A soft thud from behind alerted you, and you turned quickly to a silhouette darkened by the cold sunlight pouring in from the window behind them.

But it was oh-so-familiar. When the Kasa came off, Mizu's face looked right at you.

She took her glasses off.

Your mouth went dry at the vibrant shade of blue peering at you, making your heart soar. And you couldn't help it. Your feet moved on their own, running in small steps due to the tight wrap of your damned kimono as you threw your arms around her waist. The warmth of her body was a comforting solace to the reality of her presence, and it enveloped you like a lover's embrace.

"You're okay," you breathed shakily against her heartbeat. It sped up under your ear, though you weren't sure why. "Where did you go?"

She wasn't breathing, and she was quite skinny in your embrace despite her obvious strength. You felt her uncertain hand on your back as her chest finally deflated.

"I had to go to Kyushu."

You pulled away and looked up at her. "K-Kyushu? That's so far away! Whatever for?"

She only shook her head. You finally let go of her, clearing your throat as you put some distance between yourselves, cold air rushing into the space between your bodies in a way that agoonized you. Straightening out your clothes, you tried to think of something to say.

"I'll get you some lunch."

"But–"

"I've been worried sick about you and the last thing I want is an argument about payment or debt," you snapped. "As punishment for your absence, you'll do as I say for as long as you were gone!"

Mizu blinked down at you in surprise, pursing her lips slightly as a hint of amusement spread over her features. She was clearly trying hard to restrain it.

"As you say, Oujo-sama."

Your hand instinctively flew for her face. It was intended to be a light and playful smack of warning, but Mizu caught it inches away from her cheekbone. She gripped your hand in hers securely, the warmth of her blood seeping onto your skin as she tugged you into her shadow.

You gasped softly, stumbling close to her chest with only the backs of your hands between each other's faces. Mizu stared at you with furrowed eyebrows, trying to convey something through her stern gaze as she—to your utter surprise—pressed a kiss to your knuckles.

Your knees almost gave away. Her lips were soft on your skin, and her breath fanned over your fingers as she pulled away, the sound of her parting lips fizzling into the air intimately. Your eyes zeroed in on her mouth, feeling faint tingles of...of yearning spread over your tongue for a taste of her.

"I missed you."

You'd both said it, breathlessly and shamelessly. Except that neither of you really knew what the other meant by that confession. For all you knew, it was all sisterly affection on her part. [A/n: useless fckn sapphics istfg both of you]

"Oh, um..." you flushed with heat as you tore your gaze off hers. "Well, I'm glad you were thinkng about me."

Mizu said nothing, only gripping your hand tighter. "Won't you sit with me?"

"Let me at least bring you some food," you insisted. "I'm hungry, and you must be too."

She raised a brow at you. "Your family's quite lenient, letting you eat alone during the day."

"Oh, no, they think I'm trying to lose weight for–"

You paused. Mizu probably didn't know, and this wasn't how you wanted to break it to her.

"I'll be back," you said quickly and slipped out of her grasp, missing her touch and closeness instantly as you scurried away.

When you returned, Mizu had made herself comfortable in the same spot of hay as she used to. You set down the food, and the conversation flowed as naturally as it did before. Well, it was just you rambling on again, but you told her about the ash-dusted poetry book, how much you loved it, but no details about its writer.

You were sure she was long dead.

Mizu listened more attentively than ever before, or maybe she was gone for so long that you forgot what it was like to be heard at all. Either way, you two talked into the sunset, and you had the farmer bring in dinner for the two of you. You didn't want to let Mizu out of your sight for even a second, fearful that she might disappear forever again.

In the cloak of the dark night with its sequin of stars, you and Mizu shared a blanket on the roof of the barn. Mizu had coolly swung herself up from the window, but you were smarter and simply used the ladder inside. And there you were, pointing out constellations to her and telling her of the stories that inspired them.

Then there was silence, and it wasn't very comfortable. Not for you, anyway. You knew you had to tell her the situation before you left the barn for your room.

"I'm...getting married," you said, "as soon as spring comes."

You were hoping for a reaction that would convince you to go against the fate your parents had decided.

"To who?" she asked coolly, completely unaffected. Your heart sank.

"A daimyō of the Akamatsu clan," you replied, subdued. "Weird guy. Doesn't talk much."

She hummed. "Does it bother you?"

"I guess..." you sighed. "I talk because I want an opinion on things. I could just talk to myself or a statue if I didn't want a response at all."

Mizu seemed to grow sheepish. "Sorry," she muttered, but you only shook your head. You understand she hadn't grown up around the things you had.

"I like that you asked me things," you said. "That's more than what most of these suitors do to impress me."

Mizu smiled. "Something's better than nothing, I guess. Will you be okay, though? Getting married and all?"

You shrugged. "Not like I have a choice, do I?"

"Yeah." She nodded. "Someone like you wouldn't survive being destitute when your father passes. Given your reputation, you'd be...taken advantage of a lot."

"Ah, you heard..." you muttered. Her father's health wasn't public knowledge yet, but you weren't surprised that Mizu still managed to get wind of it.

"Well," she sighed in a bittersweet way, "when you're married, that means no more warm dinners for me. Better find another naive Oujo-sama to take care of me."

You punched her arm, and she laughed huskily up at the stars.

"I take it that you're back here for a while," you said, and Mizu nodded. "Then I'll arrange for something at my husband's residence. We don't have to stop meeting."

"Too risky."

"How else will I be able to help?" you grumbled. "It's not like I can run away to live a life on the road with you, can I?"

Mizu was silent for a moment, as if contemplating it. She eventually shook her head. "No. You'd...hold me back."

She didn't have to say that out loud, you frumbled internally.

"What do you do anyway?" you prodded. "Or is that still a secret?"

"Sort of..." she mumbled. "It's...something I've prepared for since I was a child. A plan of revenge."

You were sure she meant to sound a little more serious, but she just seemed tired.

"I'm getting there," she continued. "I'm getting closer, I think. Something's in the air, and I don't think it'll be long before I have to travel somewhere far again."

Your heart clenched in your chest. "Is it so important? Why can't you just...stay here and live a comfortable life? You'll die if you keep getting injured."

"A rare occurrence."

"Still!"

"Like I said, I've prepared for it all my life."

You knew there was no talking her out of it. "Fine, do as you wish. I'm heading back down. It's cold."

Mizu nodded, and she helped you down the ladder in the darkness, following after you with the blanket in one arm. You watched her walk past you to the haystack lit up by the moonlight, preparing for the night. You didn't want to go just yet, but the oil lamp had run out of flame.

"I'm scared," you blurted out suddenly. Mizu paused and turned sideways to look at you. "I'm scared of getting married."

They looked sympathetic. "Why?"

"I...I don't know," she sighed. "My mother, she gave me some strange pictures and..."

Mizu laughed softly and plopped down into the hay beckoning you over. "It's not all that scary when you're both ready for it."

You shuffled over to sit on your knees by her side, feeling constricted in the kimono as always. "How do you know?"

"I was married once."

"To a man?" you said disappointedly.

She raised a teasing brow, smirking mischievously. "I wasn't aware that marrying women was an op–"

"Ignore what I said," you grumbled, earning the small lopsided grin you'd missed so much. "I'm just worried I'll disappoint my husband and, in turn, my family as well."

Mizu stared at you incredulously. "Wait, you've...have you never had a lover before?"

You scoffed. "Why would I? I simply had no interest."

"Good grief..." she stared at you in a daze. "Wow, you're really just...going into this head first."

Nodding sadly, you looked away as your heart lurched in your chest, followed by a flare of heat up your neck. "I just...wish I knew what it would be like. It's too late for that, though. The whole town will know about my engagement tomorrow. I mean, I doubt my husband-to-be cares if I have a secret lover either way, but..."

Your hands, stacked on your lap, twitched with something. An urge, a yearning, especially for closeness to Mizu. You bravely looked up at her as your heart lurched in your chest.

"Could you tell me what it'll be like?"

She looked back at you uncertainly. "It's not something that can be explained, really."

"Oh..." you sighed, looking off to the side nervously to avoid her gaze. You were hoping she would've taken the hint, but there really was no point to trying. Mizu was married to a man once, and she seemed to remember it quite fondly.

So imagine the surprise when you felt the back of her fingers gently caress your cheek. Your mouth went dry when Mizu cupped your jaw, turning your face to hers.

"I...could show you," she whispered almost breathlessly, red in the ears with a heavy gaze that searched your face in the soft moonlight pouring through the window. "I guess I'd know how to prepare you as a woman myself."

You weren't entirely sure what she meant just yet, so you simply went along with it. "That makes sense, yes."

In the darkness of the night, you heard her shuffle and felt the flutter of her fabric on your wrist. The hand on your jaw moved to brush away the stray locks from your face, fingers brushing your temple and tucking your hair behid your ear. You lost your breath as her nose brushed yours, feeling her breath on your lips. The air between your bodies grew warmer despite the immense cold of the night, enveloping you completely. Heat rolled off her body onto yours like a gentle hearth, except that you were compelled to throw your hands into the embers regardless of the burn.

But you remained patient.

She was close. So close, enough to feel the warmth of her lips on yours. Your eyes fluttered shut, and Mizu's trailing fingers up the side of your neck left sparks of pleasure in their wake. You stayed right where you were, frozen, expectant, your heart pounding harder by the moment until her fingers delicately grabbed your chin.

She pulled you in, and you exhaled sharply as her slightly chapped mouth momentarily brushed yours. Your heart soared, and your soul practically left your body as an electric blossom sparked from your chest and throughout your whole body. She pecked you cautiously, the sweet sound of parting lips dissipating faintly into the air as every cell of your skin buzzed with the awarness of her presence.

You opened your eyes a peek to see Mizu looking at you with concern and curiosity.

"Th-that wasn't so bad," you whispered. Mizu nodded, and your hands found the panels of her haori, clutching onto them as she leaned down to kiss you again. This time, she was firmer. Her hand closed on your throat, a thumb admiring its slender side before sliding to the back of your neck. You mewled softly as her fingers clutched your hair at the nape with restrained desperation that you didn't realize she had. The seemingly unfeeling and reclusive vagabond had a crack in her mask, through which escaped her soft and ardent sigh. You pulled her in closer, wishing to feel her skin on yours, fingertips tracing her clavicle to trail over the bone of her shoulder. Her other hand reached for your waist with purpose, hooking her fingers under your obi to pull you in with a simple yet strong tug.

You huffed upon feeling her body flush against yourself. Your other hand splayed above her breast, not on purpose, but she didn't seem to mind, too engrossed in cushioning your lips with the warmth of her own. Her arm around your back kept your knees from giving away, leaning into you as you tried to stay upright, her kiss tender yet coupled with something akin to need. It was making you dizzy, and you could barely keep your eyes open. You moaned softly, feeling small and secure in her embrace.

Mizu huffed as she paused, pulling you into her lap so she could kiss you better. Her hand clasped your jaw gently with practiced restraint, guiding your mouth open to press her warm tongue against yours.

Oh... you thought helplessly with a faint whine. That's lovely.

The sound you made seemed to have encouraged Mizu as she kissed you deeper, and you found yourself getting drunk on the way she felt; like cool and pure water swirling on your tongue. You'd surrendered to her, falling limp in her very strong embrace as she quenched herself upon your lips. Your hands clamored for her neck, fingers slipping into her hair to keep her where she was so you could continue to remain intoxicated, kissing her back fervently through the small mewls from your throat that you couldn't hold back.

Much to your disappointment, Mizu pulled away, breathing heavily through slightly swollen lips tinged with red. Her breasts pressed against yours with each inhale, and you loved the way it felt.

"Well..." she muttered shakily, "that's how it starts."

You peered up at her through your eye lashes, not really thinking straight. "And where does it go?"

"A-are you sure?"

You giggled, feeling victory in finally getting her to lose composure. "Unless you believe this is a sufficient enough lesson, then—"

Her kiss effectively silenced you, one that was even deeper than the last. She grabbed around your shoulders to pull you closer as she hoisted your higher on her lap. You let out a sound of surprise at her strength, and also of shame as her thigh pressed into a sensitive spot between yours, eliciting a throb of warmth that you were quite unfamiliar with.

She kissed you truly now, like she'd really missed you, softly nipping at your bottom lip after sucking on it when pulling back momentarily, then diving in to explore your mouth once more. You tried to express your desire for her in return by kissing her back, but she was too strong. She'd completely dominated you.

Her fingers dug into your obi, trying to find your curves while grunting into your mouth with displeasure. You pushed her back the best you could, finding a sliver of space between your bodies to undo your layers. You wanted to kiss her without hindrance, and your clothes didn't help. Before you knew it, your lapels fell away, and her hand slipped past the fabric to caress your bare shoulder as you shuddered from the chill of the air.

She leaned down and kissed right at the swell of your breast that peeked over your loosened neckline, following up to your shoulder. The softness of her lips trailing your cleavage elicited quiet mewls of ecstasy that turned to shuddering exhales as her tongue licked up the side of your neck, sucking lightly with breathy groans vibrating against your skin. She paused to breathe, looking up at you for your certainty. The wait was unbearable, especially since you'd been longing for this moment for ages without ever realizing it. Taking her hand, you nervously slid it down your cleavage, breathing heavily as her fervent palm slid onto your breast.

Mizu's eyes grew heavier, her callused fingers squeezing gently to fondle you. A soft, embarrassed gasp left you as her thumb ran over your nipple.

"Is...this how it goes?" you asked timidly, and Mizu gulped, licking her lips as her breath labored. She pulled you in closer, hoisting you higher on her hips until her breath fanned across your sternum, her fingers having pulled away the fabric to now reveal your bare torso to her under the moonlight for her blue eyes to gaze on.

"I..." she exhaled with a stagger, "I must warn you that your husband might not...take his time with you as I will."

You furrowed your brows. "What do you mean?"

Her eyes locked with yours as her face loomed closer to your left bosom, her eager and supple tongue glinting with spit as she pressed it against your soft peak to swipe over it. The rush of pleasure had you gasping, and her lips closed around your aerola with a gentle, wet suckle that pooled electrifying, aching throbs between your thighs. Mizu's hands immediately rose from your hips to your waist, holding you still as her eyes fluttered shut, and you felt her tongue run slow circles over the sensitive bud of your breast languidly.

"M-Mizu..." you gasped sharply, unable to escape her arms wrapping around you as your pelvis pressed against her firm abdomen. Your hips rolled against her on their own accord, your pulsing canal growing damp as it searched desperately for something. Somewhere in the soft folds between your legs was a bud that ached to be touched, and a shot of pleasure permeated from it througout your pelvis as Mizu pressed her body against you, a hand gripping the back of your thigh as her hips rolled up between your legs.

Mizu's chest rose and fell against your ribs heavily as she pulled away from your chest, leaving your damp breast vulnerable to the cool night air. "Y/n, tell me if you want me to stop."

"I don't," you whispered needily, and it was all it took for her to flip you against the haystack and be on top of you. You gasped, heart pounding as she loomed over you, keeping you in her shadow as the rest of your clothes came undone under her watchful gaze. Though you'd been naked before your female servants during baths and whilst being dressed, this was neither of those occassions.

Mizu looked like she was going to devour you.

The shyness overtook you like a wave, arms crossing over your chest as your bare legs remained parted around Mizu's waist. You felt so much more exposed than ever before, yet there was a sense of safety that came from the tenderness in her cobalt irises. Your eyes locked with hers, searching each other as her fingertips trailed down your arms, feathery touches tickling over your waist and navel as they approached the most private spot where the inside of your thighs began.

"Again..." Mizu said gently yet firmly, with a slight tremble in her voice, "you can tell me to stop."

You shook your head, more curious than nervous about what was to come. Instinctively, you knew where her hand would go. You wanted her to touch you there. You just weren't sure what she would do when—

"OH!"

The unexpectedly overwhelming pleasure of her soft touch brushing over your nub sent your back arching, eliciting a wantonly moan that was much louder than you would've allowed, and Mizu's mouth fell upon yours immediately to silence you. But it was difficult to keep your voice down when her fingers felt so heavenly swiping over the sensitive button hidden in the damp folds. You writhed under her, your knees held apart by her hips as her free arm wrapped around your arched waist to keep you steady. As she drank your surprised mewls, her fingertip petted your moist lips lovingly at your damp entrance, circling over them with a gentle pressure as her knuckles pressd onto your nub.

"Mizu," you cried between breaths against her lips, body tensing up as the ecstasy grew intense, "I—how—"

"Shh," she whispered. "Breathe. Let your body ease into it."

"I—I can't!" you gasped, feeling your walls pulsing quicker, harder as the slick dampness trickled out of you, your walls begging for something to squeeze down on. "I need more of you." It was the only way it made sense to say it. "Please..."

Mizu's mouth pressed harder against yours almost reluctantly, as if she enjoyed hearing you plead. Her fingertips pressed tentatively at the edges of your entrance, exhaling sharply as she collected your nectar to glide up your slit and carress your bud with care, only making you squeal into her mouth.

"This is how you should get," she muttered breathlessly against your tongue, "or it'll hurt when it goes in."

"W—hat goes in?" you stammered. [A/n: was gonna make the "Inserts himself? Inserts himself where?" reference from Bridgerton s3 over here lol]

She didn't give you time to think as a slender digit slipped into you easily, causing your jaw to drop and all air to be lost from your lungs with the way your walls closed around her fingers with unquenchable thirst. "Fuck!"

Your words were lost to her lips once more as another finger slipped in, stretching you out comfortably, but it was the way your canal contracted around them that sent intense waves of pleasure throughout your entire core, jolsting your hips against her palm that cupped your vulva. If her fingers inside you weren't already driving you crazy, the pressure of her palm's heel on your clit was definitely doing it. And before you could even process how the overwhelming fervor consumed your body, she began to pump her fingers inside you.

Slowly.

You were forcing yourself to breathe at this point as the pleasure seized every muscle in your body, trying to comprehend Mizu's digits sliding out teasingly with your walls begging for them to not leave, before she rammed them back into you deep enough to knock her knuckles against your lower lips, sending shockwaves through your entire body. The sound of it, her skin and bone against your thick coating of wetness, only added to the arousal, and Mizu finally stopped kissing you to let you breathe, looking down at you with a daze like wonder as her hand moved once more, thrusting into your core deeply, rigorously, her fingertips finding a particularly sensitive spot in the depths of your crevice that pulled strangled mewls and cries from your lips.

"Everyone's going to hear you," Mizu chuckled deeply. "You have to try being quite. Breathe."

She held you close, her warmth pressing through her clothes and onto your bare body as her lips savored your neck with a gentleness that opposed the way she pumped into you with vigor. The sweetness of her kiss riddled your head with euphoria, making you lightheaded. You could barely keep your eyes open anymore against the budding pleasure in your core, rendering you senseless.

Your hands flailed over her body for grounding as you begged her to keep going, your fingernails digging into her shoulders, breasts bouncing against her chest from the force of her thrusts, and your form instinctively curling against her. You could feel yourself getting sore, but you didn't want her to stop as a sensation in your core pulled like a band, growing tighter and tighter until, suddenly, it released with a sharp snap.

"MIZU!" you cried out, your spine arching like a snapped twig as your hips jumped, pulling your pelvis off her fingers as a violent shudder of bliss ebbed throughout to gush from you like an endless river. Mizu's hand slapped onto your mouth to contain your moans, and you tried to catch your breath, each inhale softening the intensity of whatever addictive buzz had overtaken you. The trembling came from your bones, rendering your twitching body limp in Mizu's arms as she fell away onto her back and pulled you close, reaching out for your undone robes to drape over you before wrapping you in her arms securely.

"That..." you huff as you hid your face into her shoulder, "that was really...um..."

"Yeah," she said softly. "Except it won't be his fingers inside you."

"Shut up," you groaned. "I don't want to talk about him right now."

She chuckled. "If you wanted to bed me, you could've just asked instead of using your wedding night nerves as an excuse."

You smacked her chest with your fist, but it didn't silence her. You were still twitching, but the high of the pleasure had died down quite a bit, leaving you exhausted like never before. It was hard to keep your eyes open, but the fear of waking up to Mizu gone kept your fingers clutched on her haori.

"Please don't leave me like this..." you muttered. "Don't...don't go away."

She patted your back almost affectionately. Well, it felt like it at least. "I'm here for a little while. Don't worry."

Though you didn't quite believe her, you decided to accept it before finally allowing yourself to be lulled to sleep.

⋅ ⚔ ⋅

─────────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆──────────── A/n: NGL my insecurity about my writing skills have come back. Been working on it in therapy but maybe this is something that will stay. I just need to make the concious decision to persist regardless of how negatively I feel about my craft. ─────────────⋆⋅☆⋅⋆────────────

[cammys-imagines24]

°•Mizu Being Jealous•°

Mizu isn't naturally a possessive person by any means. She knows the shit women have to go through, being controlled by others and the world.

So, she'd never be dominating towards you or think she has any say in what you do.

That being said, while she trusts you wholeheartedly... she doesn't trust other people. Particularly other men.

Men who view you as just a pretty face. A prize they'd want nothing more than to steal away from her.

Now that just won't do.

See, if it's an easy matter such as someone touching you or groping you without your consent, say no more.

Their fingers? Gone. Their arms? Sliced clean from their body.

If some sleazy flesh trader sets their eyes on you and begins chatting you up, their hand sneaking to places on your body only meant for her touch alone, well...

They're dead. Plain as that. She'll waste no time in tearing them to shreds with her sword, their viscera painting the walls.

And, with blood stained hands she'll cradle your face, her cold demon exterior vanished.

She'll look at you like you're her whole world, which you are. She will protect you to the ends of the earth.

When it's a lascivious man vying for your attention, Mizu doesn't get jealous. She gets protective.

But, when it's not? Well that's another story.

Sometimes it's a girl at a brothel and she takes a liking to you.

The girl will be sweet where most men aren't. She'll smile at you and gingerly slip her kimono off her shoulder.

The sex worker will talk with you, with the hope of something more. Her eyes shining and all the while you seem to be enjoying yourself.

That sets Mizu on edge. Leaves her feeling twisted inside.

Because you should be with someone else.

Someone not hellbent on revenge. An impure demon with a vengeful, angry soul.

The girl would be a better match maybe or someone like her.

Perhaps not a sex worker but someone who can take care of you better than the blue eyed Samurai. Give you a normal life in ways she cannot, at least not until her revenge is complete.

Mizu won't rescue you from the girl because you're smiling and content. Instead she will let you be, never mind the hollow ache in her chest when she sees you start to laugh.

You were just chatting with the sex worker, conversing on friendly terms, regardless of the girls intentions. But, how could your beloved Samurai know that from a distance?

Like an internal echo in your body, you'll feel Mizu's absence immediately and you'll go out into the snow capped village to find her.

She'll be alone beside a natural hot springs, sapphire eyes sad behind her orange lenses.

You'll curl up at her side as if she were your shelter, your blanket.

You'll know right away how she feels. Having learned how to read her slight expressions like the back of your hand.

Mizu is jealous but more than that. She's feeling like she's not good enough for you.

A ridiculous thought really. She couldn't be more wrong.

You'll reach out to take off her glasses and thread your fingers through her hair, undoing her up-do.

"I love you, Mizu. Only you. It will only ever be you who holds my heart."

Her gaze softens from your tender touch. She'll take your hands in hers and kiss every knuckle.

Her mouth, warm against your skin, travelling up your arm until her tongue reaches the moonlit column of your throat and she plants a wet kiss along your necks pulse.

Mizu doesn't deserve you, she thinks. Still, with you in her arms, open to her, your pupils blown wide with sudden lust... who is she to disagree with your choice?

Perhaps the gods gave you to her. A gift for her cursed existence.

"Say it again." She'll whisper against your flesh, hot to the touch despite the winter. Hot from her.

Her fingers deftly untying your kimono, her hands grabbing at your hips as she pulls into her lap.

Her calloused digits digging into your thighs to spread them for her, your chest pressed against hers...

Her fingers tracing your hipbones, making you shudder...

You gasp when they ghost over your navel and down... and further.

To in between your legs. The spot that craves her and is glistening like the hot springs rippling surface beneath the moon.

"I love you, Mizu." You'll moan.

She can't get enough of the sounds you make. Just for her.

"I belong to you." You'll whimper.

Ah, like music to her ears.

Despite Mizu's feeling of jealousy and her worry of being an undeserving partner, she believes you above all else.

You chose her, a miracle really, so she'll do anything to make you happy.

"You're only mine, huh?" She'll rasp, seeking reassurance, between kisses and gentle bites along your skin.

"Y-Yes. Only yours." You'll pant, her expert fingers bringing you to the edge.

Mizu smirks and holds you even closer. She could tease you longer, draw it out like usual but she wants to be good for you. Give you what you need.

In a moment of softness she brushes her lips against your collarbones...

"I love you. You are my life." She'll say to you before making you come.

[fruchtfleisch-art]

kirashino in killer queen's pov

You know what, I almost didn't do this one, thinking I had nothing interesting to say, but it turned out to be the microfic I had the most fun writing. Fittingly, this is also going to be the last microfic for this round! Thanks so much to everyone who sent in suggestions. I'm going to get back to editing some longer stuff, and hopefully posting more art soon! ---

This is the way of things. First there was one: Kira. Then another: Killer Queen.

Kira is a man with a man’s heart, a man’s appetites, a man’s joys and sorrows and petty tantrums. He keeps a house, goes to work, eats and sleeps and shits and talks sweetly to people he would happily feed feet first into a wood chipper. When his urges bubble up, hissing and spitting like hot milk over the lip of a sauce pan, that is when Killer Queen comes forward.

Killer Queen is a tool. Since it first emerged from Kira some fifteen-odd years ago, it has not changed in any fundamental way: smooth, vaguely feline in form, adorned in skulls and samurai swords, symbols it does not comprehend the full meaning of.

Killer Queen’s primary task is of separation. Separating body from person, limb from body, hand from limb, all without damaging them too much. And when Kira is finished with these disparate parts, when they begin to leak and sweat and stink of corruption, Killer Queen devours them, leaving nothing behind. That is what it does.

There are exceptions, of course, times when Killer Queen is needed for other purposes. The destruction of the snotty-nosed child whose stand swarmed them like fleas. The schoolboy who had pinned Sheer Heart Attack in place, but more importantly, stung Kira with his words, sending Killer Queen lashing out, cat-quick. Kira himself, forcing Killer Queen’s hand to sever his own, an action as painful as forcing blood to pump backwards.

Sometimes, rarely, when Kira is sunk deep into the dark well of a dream, Killer Queen is called forth for no apparent purpose at all.

It is theorized by some that deep in the mazelike folds of the brain, neurons fire almost at random, tiny messengers ignorant of the messages they carry. These cells have no comprehension of their importance, and yet the slightest scratch in cortex can render a man blind, deaf, or amnesiac, unable to remember what he had for breakfast or the face of his beloved grandmother. The world outside the body is not, a place of objective fact, but utter darkness, illuminated only by the scant and scattered efforts of a few million thready gray tendrils.

Such is the same with Killer Queen. It does not emerge because it wants to, but because it is called. The higher purpose behind the summons eludes it entirely. It does not perceive time away from the world as anything other than absence; it does not long to feel sunlight on its face, or to fight, or to kill.

Kira asks, Killer Queen answers. That’s the way of things.

On this night, Killer Queen hangs in the air like a haze, moonlight limning the pale curves and angles of its body. Its arms hang loosely at its sides. This is not Kira’s bedroom, but some other place, a place he has been spending most of his time in the last month or so. There is nothing to destroy in this room. Kira is-

a cat, a most beautiful tomcat with a silky soft coat, with lovely whiskers arranged just so, with eyes like deep blue pools, and he is cradled in the arms of a woman as she strokes his head, his cheeks, his chest. He does not understand what she is saying, but the words are soft, and when he nibbles on her finger she coos, delighted. Saliva wells from the corners of his mouth and dangles from his chin in long pearly strings.   

- deeply asleep, eyelids twitching. His face is different, but his habits are the same. His dreams are the same.

The woman, whose name does not matter, because she will be dead soon, is in the room too. She’s curled up like a pillbug next to Kira, face buried in the pillows. When he is awake, Kira wants very badly to strangle her, but he is not awake, so Killer Queen does nothing.

Outside, insects buzz and frogs peep. The dim orange light of the streetlamp flickers, throwing strange shadows over the sleepers. Devoid of intent, Killer Queen can only watch. Its unblinking eyes do not waver, its preternaturally muscular frame does not grow tired. Its focus is absolute.

It watches the woman stir and sit up, raise her arms in a stretch. It watches her leave the room, then come back with a glass of water. It watches her take a sip and place the glass on the nightstand, before sitting down on the side of the bed.

Kira sighs. The woman turns. She runs a hand through his hair, the movement slow and hesitant at first, until he shifts closer with a soft groan of contentment. His heart rate slows, his breathing steadies.

The woman says something to him, but it does not matter what, exactly, the words are. She sits and pets him, and gradually a soft noise begins to permeate the room, a noise only audible to the one person not awake to hear it. Kira-

knows her, this woman. This voice, this touch, the loose strand of reddish-brown hair tickling his fur, all are familiar. He stretches up to touch his nose to her nose, blinking at her, greeting her. His tiny pink tongue darts out to taste her. She laughs, and holds him close, and he feels content.

-is dead to the world, lost in his own private reverie.

The noise is like the idling engine of a well maintained motorcycle, or the deep-voiced treadle of an elephantine sewing machine, or the stuttering whirl and hum of a serpentine belt, spinning and spinning and spinning. It is like all of those things and none of those things.

Kira is the man, and Killer Queen is his tool, nothing more, nothing less. Nonetheless, tonight it purrs.

[vertigoartgore]

Dave Johnson : "Blah,biddy,blah,blah,blah. What's there to say ? I did design the new Punisher logo. Pretty happy with it. The cover itself is OK. Not my favorite by any means. But then they can't be all my favorites."

Dave Johnson : "Tried to get that quiet mean vibe. The 'he's so bad, he doesn't need a million guns to kill you' look. And yes, after doing it I realized the Venture Bros. skull thing going on. Wasn't my intent. But what are you gonna do? It was bound to happen.

100% real paint on rough watercolor paper."

Dave Johnson : "Half traditional/ half photoshop."

Dave Johnson : "This one feels a bit like Steranko. I guess I could have sealed the deal by adding a swirling , hypno graphic to one of the backgrounds to really drive it home, but that really wasn't what I set out to do. I'm really enjoying the fact that since I re-designed the logo, I can now use it in the overall design as opposed to letting it just sit there on top of the page getting in my way like most comic cover trade dress. Too bad I still have to deal with the horrible scourge called the UPC box. I mean, seriously !?! Does it have to be so freaking BIG ! Not at all. But nobody wants to rock the boat in the name of beauty."

Dave Johnson : "Red, red, red. Why do I love that color so much? It dominates my work like skulls dominate Mignola's work. My chair is red, I got 2 cars that are red. Devilpig is red. My homemade Samurai armor is red. 

Oh well, why fight it. We all like what we like. It's just that simple.

Damn Equis !

*note* X-Ray is a photo that was manipulated to show all the broken bones. Except the pinky. Because Punisher can kill you with just his pinky. He's just that bad ass."

Dave Johnson : "Ahhhh, Bullseye. You really know your way to my heart."

Dave Johnson : "What a crazy cover. To me, it just screams "insane" ! Maybe I was inspired by a certain DA member that entered into my life recently. Even though I did it before he started sending me death threats (haha) I guess I had an episode of fore sight."

Dave Johnson : "Even though I haven't posted the cover to no.7 yet (because I still need to finish it) I'm posting this. It's a 5 issue story arc involving the character Bullseye. So, I'm trying to do 2 things.

To have every cover involve a bullseye graphic element (so far, so good)

To do all the covers using a blue color palette to reference the original costume of Bullseye (even though the character in this story never dons the outfit)

Also, I realize this cover is kind of a book end cover to an earlier Punisher cover. This one… [link]

But hey, it just worked out that way. If I'd have know that Bullseye was coming up in my future I might have not done the earlier cover. But that said, I wasn't about to NOT do this cover because of that. It fits to well with the story.

But maybe I'm thinking about it too much because the reality is, that it's a stupid comic book cover and the world will go on as is, no matter what I do, haha."

Dave Johnson : "I really had a good time on this one. Bullseye looks like he's really lost it and has become obsessed with getting into Punisher's head.

I gotta say, in some ways this cover assignment has been more fun than 100 Bullets covers. And that's saying a lot. Plus, about a week ago, I was talking to Tim Bradstreet. He said that if I ever needed a fill-in he'd be happy to do so. I told him 'he's have to pry it from my cold, dead hands'. Hahaha."

Dave Johnson : "Ahhh, the Bullseye motif is in effect for one more cover. Actually, I have one more to do with this story line. The writer (Jason Aaron) said that Frank wears a gas mask in this issue. Which is crazy timing because I had started to write back and forth with this guy :icondarkasylumxxx: about a trade. Art for a gas mask. He had asked if I could use his gas mask design on a cover, and I told him that kind of stuff was in the writers hands not mine.

Crazy how the universe works like that."

Dave Johnson : "Hot of the presses. The last cover for the "Bullseye" story line. The bullseye motif was fun to play with. And I can't wait to see what comes next for ol' Punisher. I'm willing to money on the fact that whatever happens, it'll be mondo violent."

Dave Johnson : "Man, this cover fought me all night. I started around 11pm with a basic idea of Punisher holding prison bars so tight that blood was coming outta his hands. But the execution eluded me until 4:30am. The angle I liked, but how to make it say 'Punisher' ? Then the idea of the key brought it all home. Finished it up by 6am and off to Marvel on the East coast just in time for them to get it when they open up the doors. Yeah me!

I think this is my favorite Punisher cover so far. Not sure what you'll think, but I'm sure you're tell me, haha.

Going to go to bed now. I feel like a vampire.

Update Got this response from :iconprimeless: "I'm nobody, so I guess my words will mean nothing to you. Also, my art won't ever be as good as yours. I love this cover as I'm fan of your work, but I continue thinking that your work for 100 bullets is the best you ever did.

The reason is that i find that the Key is saying that "Punisher got somebody into jail" not that "punisher is in the jail".

Sorry. My english is not very nice."

And here's my response: "The cover is not meant to be taken as a literal statement. It's main purpose is to tell you 1. It's a Punisher book 2. It takes place in prison. Obviously, the key isn't a real key. It's a story telling device. Whether or not you personally see it "Punisher got somebody into jail" or "punisher is in the jail". Without the key, it's just a guy holding onto prison bars. With it, it's a guy who, may or may not be Punisher. The goal is to make you pick up the book and find out."

Posting this because I thought it would clarify any future questions. Thanks"

Dave Johnson : "It's a simple cover with a simple idea. Punisher is prison, prisoners not happy about it. Rinse, repeat. Call me in the morning."

Dave Johnson : "You know what sucks ? The way I work. I agonize for 2 weeks to come up with a cover design that I don't hate, and then it only takes me 1 day to do it from start to finish. Imagine if that were the other way around? I'd probably be over rendering and adding so much detail it would make your eyes bleed. But instead I wait until one day before the deadline to force me into doing something. 

Bah! I guess it is what it is. 

This one was hard because I've already done a Punisher cover dealing with Frank's origin story. Seen here [link]"

Dave Johnson : "Mmmmm, Electra vs. Punisher. Sure, why not."

Dave Johnson : "This cover kind of turned out to be a little partridge family bus art style or if you please the art that inspired that art style on the bus [link]

Well, it's not my best cover, but it's not my worst. I really dig how Punisher's face turned out though. But maybe you hate it.

Discuss."

Dave Johnson : "Punisher cover time. Mostly photoshop if you're wondering. No real paint was harmed in the making of this cover."

Dave Johnson : "Another Punny cover. Enjoy.

*note* if you notice, no blood on Frank in the photo. It's the little things."

Dave Johnson : "Sadness."

Dave Johnson's cover run (+ commentaries for nearly each of them) on Aaron/Dillon's Punisher Max Vol.1 #1-22 (2009-2012). Source

[gintama-polls]

Gintama OP/ED Song Tournament

"Togenkyo Alien" is the 9th opening song, the 1st opening song for Gintama' (episodes 202-227).

"Samurai Heart (Some Like It Hot!)" is the 17th ending theme. It is the 1st ending theme for Gintama' (episodes 202-214).

Songs under the cut.

[kojiroist]

kojiro is just so zosans kid coded it cant NOT have been on purpose.....

• green hair

• muscular

• very kind and emotionally focused

• great cook

• brave and defends all those he loves with his whole body and heart

• BODYYYYYYYYYY

• tan skin

• bit snippy

• charming with the ladies

• bisexual king

• loves him some wine

• in love with his rival that he would die for

• this i mention hot

• and caring

just remembered the name kojiro can mean brave like a tiger (you know, ZOROS associated animal) and fucking SAMURAI. and the lucky number is 33 ! ! ! im done i give up sk8 writers i know your agenda i caught you

[rachetmath]

Rwby x video game

Ruby: Whoo… that was tough.

Yang: I can’t believe that Grimm trapped us in those video games like that.

Weiss: Indeed, my game was difficult.

Ruby: How so?

Weiss: I was a witch. I controlled time, had many weapons, and summoned creatures. But I had to do some embarrassing poses. 

Ruby: Oh you were Bayonetta. That was cool. Mid though. What about you Yang?

Yang: I was in this arcade game where I fought a bunch of people in the streets.

Ruby: Oh. I mean you fit the description of someone vandalizing property.

Yang: You know it. What about you Blake?

Blake:  I was a ninja. But instead of fighting just other ninjas, I was fighting monsters. And I also wield multiple weapons too.

Ren: You too. I was a samurai and I was fighting demons. And I can summon creatures to help me as well. And I had multiple weapons.

Blake: One of mine was a scythe.

Ruby; Really? Man. That sucks. 

Yang: What was your game, Ruby?

Ruby: I was a devil hunter. I also had a lot of weapons. But I mainly used three and a few metal arms.

Yang: Metal arms? Holy crap.

Ruby: My bosses were insane, especially the final boss. 

Ren: What about you Nora?

Nora: I fought my father.

Ren: What?

Nora: I fought my father who was trying to take my son. I did what I could but he was too strong. I managed though and survived. However, I pushed my son away from me and he left me alone. I was happy when he came back but things only got worse. I lost my friend. And though I managed to talk some sense into my father, my grandfather killed him right in front of me.

Ren: Nora it was a game.

Nora: It was real to me!

Ruby: Okay. Oscar and Emerald, how was your gaming experience?

Emerald: I was a badass treasure hunter. 

Oscar: I was a guy who wielded a Keyblade and had to fight the darkness. I made many friends but my main ones were a duck and a dog. Mainly the dog.

Ruby: Interesting. Well, Jaune what about you? What game did you go to?

Jaune: You can’t be serious. All of you have only been to one game?

Ruby: Yeah. I was in DMC.

Yang: I was in Street Fighters.

Blake: Ninja Gaiden.

Weiss: Bayonetta.

Jaune: Which one? In fact, red, blue or purple?

Weiss: Purple.

Ren: Nioh.

Nora: God of War Ragnorock 

Emerald: Tomb Raider.

Oscar: Kingdom Hearts.

Jaune: Oh my god. For real?

Ruby: Matter of fact, you’ve been gone for a while. What game were you in?

Jaune: I was in four.

Yang: Four? Like the fourth-

Jaune: No I was in four games?

Oscar: What were they like?

Jaune: Um hell.

Ruby: O.

Jaune: I was in hell. First I was in the Resident Evil series.

Yang: Number?

Jaune: 8.

Yang: Oo did you enjoy-

Jaune: I didn’t see the appeal. Especially, if the same tall woman, is trying to kill and eat you. And they were mild compared to a fungus monster, a crazy doll, a fetus, and an insane man with magnetic powers with the temper of a nine-year-old. I don’t know how I survived half that nonsense.

Yang: Damn.

Jaune: That was light work though. Then I went to find something called the Elden Ring.

Nora: Oh. Did you score any maidens?

Jaune: I will hurt you.

Ren: I mean it couldn’t been that bad. What was your role? 

Jaune: The victim.

Weiss: Didn’t you have weapons?

Jaune: Of course, in Resident Evil I had guns. Then for Elden Ring, I had swords and magic. Too bad I was against insane bosses who were completely out of my league. And one of them was a man who fought me with his bare hands! 

Nora: Oh.

Jaune: Had my butt bent over.

Oscar: Pause.

Jaune: Then Melina. Oh god. Oh god, A dragon flame thrower.

Blake: Jaune?

Jaune: After I got done with that madness, I went further deep into hell. Where my only option was to run.

Ruby: From what?

Jaune: Killer toy monkeys. An evil little girl. Clowns. Human-legged ducks. Golden Statues. Bagged Nurses. A Stuffed Mama Bear doll. I was lucky there weren’t more. 

Ruby: Oh god. 

Jaune: All while collecting these purple gems and running from the devil while assisting a witch. Who I have to admit is very hot. 

Emerald: Who were the worst?

Jaune: The worst ones were the Joy-joy Gang.

Emerald: Who were they?

Jaune: Animatronic robots.

Oscar: How were they so bad?

Jaune: Dark Deception. They’ll let you think you had a chance. First, they can become a giant ass robot. One of them can run faster than me. And when you think you've beaten all three of them, nine more will take their place- They have an army. Unlike the others, those guys had a better chance of catching me. They were just having fun. And when they caught me… … *remembers the beatdown* I swear if it wasn’t for their boss still needing me alive I wouldn’t have survived. 

Oscar: What was the last game?

Jaune: … … 

Oscar: Jaune? Jaune what was the last game?

Jaune: *remembers the people he lost. The people he’s murdered. The monsters he’s faced. The choice that could change everything.*

Jaune: I have no regrets.

Oscar: What?

Jaune: Nothing Oscar.

Ruby: Um… Are you going to be okay?

Jaune: Yep. As long as we killed the thing?

RWBY and NERO: … …

Jaune: Don’t tell me. 

*Roars*

Jaune: Let’s see.  Nine of us are here. Giant boss. Yep, we’re in an RPG. 

Ruby: Let’s go team.

Jaune: Wait what are our roles though?

*bob*

Ruby: Sniper. Cool.

Yang: Brawler. Nice.

Blake: Ninja. Hm.

Weiss: Mage. Indeed.

Emerald: Thief. Awesome.

Oscar: Support. Ah.

Nora: Berserker. Yes.

Ren: Archer. I’m fine with this.

Jaune: *terrified* 

Nora: What’s your role Jaune?

Jaune: HEY! FIGHT ME!! FIGHT! ME!

Ruby: Tank.

[beanghostprincess]

Transfem Buggy anon, back at it again

Luffy beat the everloving snot out of Kaido. Luffy and his alliance freed Wano. Buggy likely couldn't have visited Wano - soon after the Last Island, there was the hot mess with Roger leaving, the crew disbanding, everyone separating, Buggy+Shanks Survival Mode, the execution, Buggy and Shanks Survival Mode 2 Electric Boogaloo, and by the time Buggy would even be feasibly ready to go, it would have been locked down.

She'd have never once been able to truly visit that place.

And now? Now she has the Guild. She has responsibilities, appearances to uphold, and she'd find out that Luffy has been named an Emperor Officially and Wano Is Free.

She... she wants her mom. Gods, she wants her mom.

She calls Shanks. Asks if he'd heard. Asks if he knows. And he says he was close by. He's so near that he could be docked by the morning. And Buggy aches. How can she make this work? How can she do this, Shanks, she doesn't know what she's doing, it's gotten so crazy so quickly, she's drowning in it-

And he offers an alliance.

A no-harm agreement. Some of his and some of hers, themselves both involved, to go to Wano for personal and professional reasons. Wano is, after all, the homeland of very talented samurai and smiths.

And Buggy realizes the Guild could probably recruit from there - at the very least, establish trade for quality goods. It's a bit far, but it would be worth it for the sheer quality alone - and it would boost the economy.

Shanks would be able to call it an adventure, would be able to set it as a vested interest bc of his history with Kaido, it could work-

Crocodile and Mihawk do insist on accompanying her - for surface level United Fronts, for private "don't fuck it up", for personal "why is she so interested no I'm not curious about her no I don't wanna know her better shut up-"

Shanks gets a kick out of it.

Buggy is so preoccupied with seeing the home Toki told her about, maybe even seeing Toki herself, she's practically vibrating. She's in better spirits than she has been for YEARS.

When they finally arrive, Buggy asks Shanks if she can use his room. He just smiles and nods. When she comes out, all three men are a little breathless bc she's done her hair so artfully, with an unfamiliar hair piece, a loop of flowers made from beads and painstakingly cared for. Her makeup is no less flattering, but the style has changed slightly. Her outfit is a short kimono with half cut sleeves and leggings. She wears it well, and it's only the fact that they know her, have been with her, that has them aware of the fact that she ISN'T in fact a local.

They go to town.

Buggy gets along with them famously. Shanks is a very close second, perfectly mannered, while Mihawk and Crocodile trail slightly behind, out if place and reserved. It's all wonderful, blissful for a few hours, business and pleasure together, before they get lunch at a small restaurant, and an older woman steps over, bows, and asks the blue haired pirate if she "is little Buggy? Lady Toki's girl...?"

Buggy's heart skips a beat.

Toki has been dead for some time now. She fell with the destruction of Oden Castle, may her soul find rest. But she'd been a very close friend, and Toki has told this woman about her loved ones, her children, her husband, her friends, her other baby who deserved a Wano that deserved her in turn. Toki had photographs, keepsakes, and they all were entrusted to her closest friend.

Buggy is emotional. Shanks offers her his arm, his shoulder, and the others are silent, supportive sentinels. The ones who knew her mourned.

Buggy visits her grave. Tells her mom all about herself now. About the things she's seen and done and learned, from the day she watched the Wano shores bleed into the horizon to the day Buggy came home, well and truly.

Crocodile and Mihawk feel as if they are intruding heavily, but Shanks stops them with a look. Buggy did not tell them to leave. She absently waves for them to take a seat with her.

Toki taught her many things - honoring the dead among them. She talks the process out, and neither of her lieutenants mention that she and Shanks both are crying quietly.

The two former warlords learn many, many things about their chairwoman on this trip.

WELEWDJUIWEGFJKIWBFBWEJKFBWEFJKLWENFKLWNEKLFNWKEFNKWLEFNLKWENFKLWENKLFNWELKFNWEKLFNKWLENFKLEWLKFWNEKLFNWEKLFNWLKEFNLKEWFN <- super normal and mentally stable reaction to this. I am SO normal about this (I am NOT).

This is just so beautiful. Buggy finding out her mother is dead but there's so much she can still enjoy in Wano after telling Toki everything that has changed in her life. I think she enjoys the trip and she finally feels at home because everything she knows is thanks to her. Buggy wants the three men to stay with her because she feels a little less alone, and they're surprisingly extremely respectful. I imagine Buggy talking to Hiyori and Momo and it kills me,,, It's so sweet. I think Crocodile, Mihawk, and Shanks are having a moment of peak realization and they're starting to be down down bad for her. Like. There's no coming back after this because Buggy owns their hearts fr. Also, she falls so many times with that kimono because she's still a failgirl and she isn't used to those clothes because the last time she wore one of those was when she was a kid. And yet she still looks gorgeous and like she belongs there.

[demonslayedher]

Shall we talk ☆Pillar Filler???☆

(As well as the rest of the episode?)

Keeping it behind a cut because it's not yet available for everybody and a lot of people will appreciate being surprised (I know I did)!

First, how about that new OP??

I love how it sets this arc up for being a pause in the constant life or death struggle (for the Pillars anyway, hahaha), and pricks at how the Pillars always feel they are struggling to compensate for their weaknesses, and the inky hatred that fills their hearts which Oyakata-sama knows they've channeled into defeating Kibutsuji Muzan at all costs. I also had a passing thought the other day about how so many Japanese legends of demon slaying require the hero to call upon a non-human higher power, or use something like a poison or alcohol to weaken a demon before they stand a chance of defeating it. In the end, the medicine that Tamayo and Shinobu develop does serve this crucial role (and the sun fulfills the role of a higher non-human power), but it's otherwise ironic that instead of temporarily weakening a demon to their own level, the usual course of action is to use Breath to temporarily increase their power to that of a demon.

Attaining a mark sure increases the role that "temporary" already played in their lives, and it's really no question that they would choose to pursue that option, even knowing the result.

(Also, CHUNTAROOOOO)

So anyway, onto that filler!!

I loved it.

First, the nitpicking just to get it out of the way: why did a demon need to bother tying up a victim???? Whhhhy? Like, at least they didn't pull a Speedy with some contrived "this demon just toys with victims and leaves them injured instead of killing them" routine that makes for a happy low-stakes Piller Filler episode while showing utter disregard for what demons are and why the Corp risks themselves to stop them. (That said, I always love seeing other Corp members fulfill their own Corp duties with no relation whatsoever to Tanjiro, who is just one piece of a much, much larger whole.)

But rather than write what would ultimately be stupid dialogue with an insignificant filler demon, it's nice that Ufotable did not bother developing the Castle Demon. The totally undeveloped baddies are easy to cast off as Blood Technique (but maybe they could have looked a little cooler if, like, they were vaguely wearing samurai armor or something instead of just being in skin suits? Whatever, not important.) I appreciate that Ufotable did not bother to answer these questions of "why is the victim tied up" because the point of this scene was very obviously not about her or the demon. (I like to think Iguro cut the ropes and then told her to get to safety but just, like, left her there on the top roof).

So as for what this scene WAS for... hot dang, did it accomplish that!!!

The purpose was to make Sanemi and Iguro look cool, and it sure as hell did that. WHAT GOOD CHANBARA, those show-offy sword-play moves against a mob of nameless villains were just so deliciously well choreographed, and the people who can appreciate that were also likely to really appreciate the use of a castle as a purely fun battle setting. Ufotable was probably like, "Our biggest fans are nerds for KnY's touches of traditional Japanese folklore and culture, and for swords and swordplay, so you know what else will probably get them riled up? Yeah, let's give them a castle fortress."

And then everyone cheered, like, "Yes, yes, the fangirls like demonslayedher on Tumblr will never know what hit them."

But then some brilliant person spoke up and said, "You guys, I have the perfect finishing blow."

And everyone said, "What? How could we possibly top this scene that not only purely makes Sanemi & Iguro look cool, but also serves their characters and the plot nicely by showing how the Pillers don't feel they can rely on the other Corp members, and that even though they speak sharply to them they show concern for them by their actions? You know, especially slyly since anime-only fans will get to appreciate a new side of characters whom they haven't gotten to bond with much yet for only having seen their mean sides mostly and none of their battle coolness, and also slyly because the hardcore manga fans know that these two are buddies?"

And then the brilliant person says, "Let's give them that fortress."

The brilliant person was then crowned Ruler of Ufotableland and the fans lived happily ever after.

Speaking of Pillar Filler, I also want to point out how nice that opening exposition between Shinobu and Kanao was. First, what a nice way of incorporating Kanao into a nice episode that gives us a nice little dose of everyone in the Corp cast, even by adding that little scene of Amane and Ubuyashiki too. I loved the little touches that develop the Butterfly Mansion, like the fact that on the path there, they have a stone sign that says "Butterfly Mansion" and a line of carved Jizo statues (to protect travelers and (deceased) children) with little butterflies. And that moment of Nezuko frowning as the sunlight goes behind a cloud? Wonderful. And Shinobu essential saying to Kanao, "I trust you with defending everyone here in the now VERY LIKELY EVENT OF KIBUTSUJI MUZAN ATTACKING while I have to go off to a Pillar Meeting now that you're back"? I looooove iiiiiiiiit. That also says a lot about the trust other Pillars have in Shinobu to entrust her with Nezuko instead of putting any pressure on her to take part in Pillar Training, as clearly they don’t know about Tamayo, and it's really anyone's guess if they know about the poison or not (though the light novel implies Himejima might have an inkling but doesn't know). Being Pillars, though, I doubt any of them would tell her she's wrong for being prepared to take down a demon in any possible way.

I love, love, love, love the treatment of all the straight-from-the-manga scenes, like "Welcome home, Inosuke" (except for the added 'did you miss me, Aoi-chan' because canonically Aoi is the one kind of girl who is not his type), Tamayo speaking with Oyakata-sama's bird, Mitsuri's "explanation" of the mark, and every single Pillar interaction. I love the amount of respect they show to Himejima (and how Ufotable slightly expanded on this), and I am so excited for the extra Himejima content this season. In the new marketing materials released on the same day as the episode/movie, they make stark use of one of the kanji characters in his name ("cry out"), which is a very nice touch. And the use of BGM!!! Especially the touches of Giyuu's and Mitsuri's themes during the meeting!

*happy sigh*

It is nice to be a fandom citizen of Ufotableland.

[gippynippyhadaskippy]

Secrets; Mizu x mixed!fem!reader Pt. 3

A/n: Hey beauties! Happy Holidays and Happy early New Year!! I appreciate all the comments on the story :3, Also reader is a bit unhinged, just clarifying, 'Kay byeeeeeee!

Warnings and notes: Violence, Suicide implied, Racism, Mizu he/him pronouns till reader finds out otherwise.

Pt 1: https://www.tumblr.com/gippynippyhadaskippy/735820843700158464/secrets-mizu-x-mixedfemreader?source=share

Pt 2: https://www.tumblr.com/gippynippyhadaskippy/736299148632064000/secrets-mizu-x-mixedfemreader?source=share

The next stop in the journey wasn’t interesting, a noodle shop in the middle of nowhere. A sigh escaped your lips, growing tired from such a long mission. Not giving much thought to a bold approach or its repercussions, you enter the shop without hesitation. The samurai was already seated and hadn’t even looked in your direction. Why, not so much as a twitch. 

You dragged your eyes in his direction, he knew, 

you knew he knew, 

he knew you knew he knew. 

He met your gaze, inquiry was clear as day in them.

You snapped your eyes back, you’ll kill him, soon. 

You sat on a cushion from the opposite side of the restaurant as a big clumsy gentleman came to ramble about menu options, you gave him an eye smile and held up two fingers, second choice. After some fumbling, he assumed you were deaf and meant the second choice. It wasn't the first time your high voice had led to misconceptions—too high to pass as a man, too high to command respect. As he walked away you sighed. Your eyes were pulled back to him—the samurai. His attention was already on you. Another sigh, you squeezed your fist, but this time instead of exhaustion, it was titillation. 

Sweet and deadly.

You felt hot, why wasn’t he looking away? 

To everyone else, the two of you were stoic and intimidating, but you both were asking each other so much without even moving your heads. The bumbling man comes out from the kitchen and you disconnect your eyes first, following him instead. Once he brought the samurai his food and brought a rude flesh trader’s noodles to him, the girls looked miserable—poor things. 

In a split second, with a wobble and a fall a bowl of noodles fell onto Hachi’s lap. Of course, you knew who he was Shindo has done many business deals with him before. Many eyes watched on as the big gentleman slipped on more noodles, trying to fix his mistake. Your heart twinged with sympathy, as Hachi pulled a gun on him calling him a dog. Alas, you couldn’t do anything, if Fowler found out…

Gods, you sound like your father. 

Fuck. 

You absent-mindedly shook your head to rid of the thoughts of your father, he left you, alone. 

It hurt that you love him. It’d been like that for most of your life. 

Right, loved. 

A loud screeching noise made its way from across the restaurant, a table on wood. It went on for a bit and almost made you chuckle. The dramatic gesture came from the samurai—why weren’t you surprised? You were intrigued by the way he stood in front of the gun, his voice, his stance. 

It wasn’t like you hadn't killed attractive men and women before, it was often a pity that you quickly brushed off, letting yourself taste the dessert of what could’ve been. Although he is an entirely different kind of person, not from fame or wealth or any privilege at all. 

You’re hooked, and the drug was just six feet away. 

“European design, isn’t it?” A cocky smirk cracked on his lips, trying to make light gun talk with the flesh trader. Customers started to file out, in fear for their lives. 

After he revealed that he knew about Hachi, one of your eyebrows quirked up. 

“Why do you know so much about Hachi?” Hachi’s tone was defensive, guarded even. 

“Maybe I’ve been following you, the famous Hachi with the famous gun.” He chuckles, smirk still evident. 

“I’d love a gun like that.” A bold-faced lie, it was so obvious that he wanted something else. 

“You can tell me who sold it to you.” Bingo. 

“Hmm. Fuck off.” Hachi disregarded him and went back to eating. 

“You will tell me who sold you that gun.” A more commanding tone took the place of the cocky one. 

The blade slightly clicked out of the tsuka. 

Within a second Hachi pulled a gun on the samurai, and the samurai—ever so calm, splayed his hands. No foul play right? 

You watched on in amusement as he was backed up next to a knife.

Oh, a snack would be great right now. 

“You don’t deserve my blade,” The smirk disappeared, “You don’t even deserve this blade.” 

Two fingers plopped onto a plate, and Hachi screamed. 

You shifted in your seat, and your face felt hot.

“Take the gun if you want it! Take it!”

He pinned Hachi to the table and plunged a knife into the wood, not missing a beat he demanded, 

“It’s a filthy gun from a filthy place. I don’t want it.” He pulled him up by his obi. 

“I wanna know you sold it to you, tell me now.” 

You looked around at the restaurant taking in the situation fully, the girls seemed scared and meek, the big gentleman was in awe, and the shopkeep, with no customers, was horrified. A small smile formed on the corners of your mouth, stirring the pot definitely wasn’t his intention, it’ll have consequences. 

“Heiji Shindo! I bought it from Heiji Shindo!” Hachi whimpered, a pathetic sound really, for a pathetic man. 

“Heiji Shindo,” He tested the name in his mouth, “Where is Heiji Shindo?”

“I don’t know! I swear.” He whimpered again, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes. 

Then the samurai tilted his tinted glasses down, revealing his blue eyes, and threw him down walking for the door. 

“You dead-eyed, half-blooded demon bastard.”

Hachi pointed. Big mistake. 

“You look like an onryo!” 

Two more fingers were added to the plate and your smile grew. 

After the big guy named Ringo left to follow the samurai, you followed suit keeping a safe distance between all of you. Another element was added to the mix, but that was the least of your concerns. 

Who was he? 

Most importantly why do you want to know?