#like even just as things are now Mizu is so.... i see me in you and you in me holy fuck

[bones-n-bookles]

This is a Blue Eye Samurai fan blog now sorry not sorry I'm obsessed

[bubblebbg]

❝𝐨𝐧𝐜𝐞: 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫, 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧❞

Mizu x Reader

- Reader in this fic is of some sort of mixed or foreign descent, but this can also be interpreted as having any trait that would make them a pariah of sorts. Warning, not proofread lol. All spur of the moment.

When you found the blue eyed stranger laying bloody on a lonely street, you took her in. You keep her warm, fed, and with mends on her wounds. Mizu knows well that there are sacrifices to be made on her path. She doesn't know just how much they can sting.

Mizu can't quite pinpoint the most irritating part of the pain. The ache of broken bones, the sting of stabs and slices, the consistent ringing in her head; everything hurts, and she supposes that like every other injury, it's all par for the course. Small price to pay for revenge. She knew she'd have to rest at some point, but she didn't expect to be incapacitated, edging on consciousness for days. Every now and then there's a sensation like coolness on her forehead, or water at her lips.

It's on day three that she becomes lucid enough to realize someone's taking care of her. Her distrustful brain is immediately sounding alarms, but her body can do little to react in such a broken state. Mizu can do nothing but lie silent and weak on this futon, sipping medicines and soups when it's brought to her mouth and being patched, cut for cut, wound for wound.

The first thing she notices about you, her caretaker, is your eyes - eyes brimming with concern and care, eyes that catch every weakness of her flesh and seek to heal. She hears your whispers of "poor thing" and "I'll get you healed up in no time". And being Mizu, her first thought is...

"Why?"

She hadn't meant to say it out loud, but she doesn't rush to take it back. Why are you, a stranger, so willing to take care of her? Why are you expending your resources on a broken thing, a mistake that any other sane person would let rot in the street where they found it?

You only smile at her, and in such a way that makes her heart race. Gentle, patient, tentative. She doesn't like it one bit, the way it pulls at doors she's kept locked for years. Her eyes focus, taking in what you look like as you stand and ready yourself to leave the room.

"I don't need your pity!" She manages to choke out. It has you stopping in your tracks.

"It's," she coughs, sputtering on words, "It's because you're just like me, isn't it? You're different. A monster."

The look on your face is one of mild amusement, an eyebrow raised and the corners of your lips upturned. She's not sure if it's that or the confidence in your next words that makes her cheeks heat up.

"I am not a monster. Neither are you."

And you're gone, leaving her to deal with the weight you've left in her chest.

𓆩… . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . … . …���

The days turn into weeks, the weeks into months. With so many parts impaired, it'd only make sense that healing would take this long. Most of all, it's your endless patience that surprises Mizu. When she reopens a wound by carelessly trying to train despite your cautions, you're there patching it up. When she expresses her frustration with not being able to take up the sword yet, you're there reassuring her that it'll all be fine in time. You're kind when she's haughty and sarcastic (which makes her feel guilty, and thus even more indignant), and this extends to others as well. She often sees you helping children or neighbors, anyone in need. You're loved in this town.

It makes her a bit irritated, seeing your kindness bestowed on others. At first she thinks it's because she sees weakness in your actions. Then she thinks it's jealousy - why are you, someone who would otherwise be an outcast like herself, so beloved by your town? How come it didn't turn out this way for her? But when she sees you cooking enough for the both of you and the family next door, stirring slowly as the food steams, she thinks to herself, god, they're even patient when they're cooking. And then it hits her.

She is jealous, but not in the way she thought. In the way that yearns for your priority, that seeks to be the only recipient of your sweet manners and loving nature.

It doesn't help that you've grown close, too close for her liking. There have been nights spent in each other's company, saying nothing but gazing at stars. There have been conversations in which you've both laughed, some in which you cried. Mizu's mind can't help but remind her that this isn't safe; the last time she opened her heart up, it returned battered.

But this - you - feel safe. You dedicated nearly three months to healing her body, all the while you had been patching up wounds the eye can't see.

"I'm leaving," she says meekly on a warm evening, the two of you sat in a field of grass overlooking your village. You look to her and she only stares forward. You suppose it's better than her leaving without telling you, but the pain is no lesser because of the thought.

You take a deep breath and exhale before answering, "I had a feeling."

There's a long silence between the two of you. It's your turn to watch the sun setting over the trees as Mizu looks at your expression, the hints of sadness in her eyes.

"Do you... do you really have to? You are welcome here, you know. You'll always have a home here with me."

The words have Mizu choking up and suppressing the sudden and unnerving urge to cry. What you've done to her in three months still astounds her.

"I do. You know I do. I was always going to have to leave."

Mizu is caught by another urge, the urge to take those words back when she sees streams on your cheeks. You sniffle and hiccup, and it's so much less pleasant than your usual smiling disposition. It hurts in the way no blade ever could.

The sun is disappearing, and she wills herself to stand. If she doesn't, she might never go. She turns to leave and you stand as well. She stops in her tracks when you tug on her sleeve. She faces you and you slowly, carefully bring a hand to the side of her cheek. When she doesn't flinch away, you lean in close. Your lips meet in a kiss that conveys words that neither of you have the power to say.

You pull back after a moment, your forehead pressed to hers and your eyes closed. Your voice is quiet, almost inaudible when you say your goodbye.

"Break my heart once by leaving. Do not break it again by dying."

She turns and leaves while your eyes are still closed. You open them to an empty field, your palm still wet with her tears.

[nightfall-kachiniko]

“THE SAME EYES AS YOU..” ✩ˎˊ˗ pt.1

mizu x reader || blue eyed samurai ᝰ.ᐟ

a/n: i thought this would be a super cool concept to see in BES, so I hope you enjoy.

You don’t know how you got here, all you knew is you did. Walking through the snow barely able to stand, your legs dragging behind you. Drops of blood streamed down your rough skin.

It was so windy and cold. The snow had to be over 4 feet deep as the blizzard forced your body forward. The air was so brittle and dry you couldn’t feel your skin.

Crisp snow blew in your face, blinding you from the little vision you could see.

The only thing you could feel was the little bit of warmth your blood carried inside of you.

Until it was the only thing you could feel. As it all got weary, and warmed you all around, sending a hot streak up your body. Until it hit the ground.

your eyes fluttered open slightly, as you swayed in and out of consciousness. Your body was on the floor, but it wasn’t of snow. Instead it was wood, a hard wooden floor. the coldness was now a crackling warmth, as voices muttered all around you.

“I don’t trust it.” you could make out a man’s voice saying, then a sharp shing of metal.

“Wait! Stop we haven’t even talked to her yet!” another said, more high pitched.

you used whatever strength you could find in your drowsy body to lift yourself up, a grut of shock coming from behind you. you turned over on the floor, trying to sit up, a blade meeting your face.

You yelped in shock. Quickly crawling yourself backwards from the metal in your face.

“Taigen! Stop! I told you you’d scare her!”

You screamed looking up at the man infront of you. He was an Asian man with dark hair, his eyebrows knitted as his face held a look of uncertainty but fierceness.

You screamed in fear of the blade drawn infront of you, as you huddled yourself backwards, shutting your eyes closed. “SHUT UP!” The man said harshly, gritting his teeth.

“GET AWAY FROM ME!” You yelled, crawling yourself backwards.

He looked at the other man, confused at the way you were speaking. Your Japanese sounded weird, different.

“ugh..” a scoff was heard. “be quiet,” a man’s voice distantly said, pulling open the cabin door.

“What did you bring in this time taigen? “he said sarcastically.

They wore a big hat, covering their eyes, but all you could see was the sword strapped to their side.

thats until their eyes met yours. It went quiet as the man backed up, eyes widening in shock as he stared into yours. those orange glasses covering his own.

All that filled the room was the crackle of the fire place and your quiet frantic breaths of fear.

“Taigen, put the sword down.” They ordered, their eyes not leaving yours. The man hesitantly glanced between you and him before doing so.

All he could do is stare at you. And you knew why. Of course, you were different. Your hair was different, your skin, nobody was like you.

until they took off their glasses.

What you didn’t know, was they were too.

and like a mirror, blue eyes stared back at you.

you locked eyes with this man, as his gaze became soft, almost comfortable looking back into yours.

and for a spit second you felt safe with this stranger.

“Your eyes..” you both said.

“they’re just like mine.”

[that-basic-simp]

Touch Her, I Dare You

Mizu X Fem!Reader CW: Blood, Loss of limbs WC: 1.1k+

I knew Mizu was protective, I just wasn't expecting her to be so protective over me. Every time we go somewhere, she is either standing very close by or literally on top of me. It was a bit awkward at first, since I would turn and she'd be right behind me or whenever I tried to talk to someone in private, she would be standing there, just watching the person.

"You don't need to protect me, you know," I said to Mizu.

"I know I don't need to. I want to."

"How noble of you," I rolled my eyes.

"Hey, either I offer protection, or you'll end up somewhere you don't want to be. So it's your choice. The former or the latter."

I let out a sigh. She was right. She was the reason I wasn't in a brothel somewhere lying with men I don't want to be with.

"Fine," I sighed.

"Besides," she pinned me to a wall, her hand trailing softly up the side of my thigh and to my hip, where she rested her hand there. Rubbing little circles against my hip, she leaned towards me.

"Wouldn't want you to get hurt. The pretty little girl that you are," she smirked at me.

"M-Mizu."

My feelings for Mizu were obvious to the point she commented about it within minutes. It was how I looked into her eyes and complimented them any chance I could get. While I heard people disgrace her eyes and tell her she was something she wasn't, I thought that she needed to hear how much I loved them. It wasn't because she needed to hear it, I wanted to tell her. It was the truth. I did love her eyes. I loved her. But whatever we had going on between us wasn't really official. I don't even think Mizu understands her own feelings. It was times like this where I questioned her feelings and her flirtatious nature only around me. Maybe she did have feelings for me, but didn't know how to act upon it. Oh this touch starved and emotionally unavailable human she was. She was insufferable, but again, I chose her.

She leaned close to me, our lips mere inches apart. Right when she was about to press her lips against mine, she pulled back. Just another graze. She was such a fucking tease and she knew it. Smirking at me, she pulled her entire body away, sitting down in the corner of the noodle shop we were in. We were sort of in the back where no one really paid attention to us. Which was Mizu's choice of course. Sighing, I sat down across from her, shooting a glare in her direction.

"What?" she asked, a smug smirk on her lips.

"You're such a fucking tease," I grumbled.

"And you aren't at times?"

"Not as much as you are, Mizu."

She shrugged and someone walked over to us, setting tea and noodles down.

"Well, aren't you a beautiful one."

Turning, a man was standing before Mizu and I. His eyes were on me and I could tell, without even looking, that Mizu was staring him down. I just flashed him a smile before turning to begin eating the noodles that were served.

"What brings a beauty such as yourself out here?"

"Beat it," Mizu said, deepening her voice. Oh I loved it when she did that.

"Was I talking to you?" he turned towards Mizu, a stifled laugh coming from him. "Can you even see through those glasses of yours? You look like a blind beggar."

"I think people need to get more clever with their insults. Every single one of them has been used."

I smiled, almost cracking into a small laugh. The man looked in between me and Mizu before stepping towards her. He grabbed Mizu by her cloak and lifted her up.

"Who do you think you are?"

"Please, we just want to eat."

"And I am trying to talk to a pretty lady. A lady who deserves better company."

He stepped towards me once more, about to place a hand on my shoulder. Mizu removed her sword from the belt, but it was still in its sheath. Placing the end of it underneath his chin, he glared her way.

"Now who do you think you are?"

"Touch her. I dare you," Mizu stared down at his hands. "With hands like yours, I'm sure noodles isn't the only thing you touch."

He smirked darkly, "You would vomit at the things these hands have touched."

"Hope you washed them before serving food."

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

That was it. I wasn't eating these noodles. Not after that.

"Seems you tarnished the lady's appetite," Mizu said.

"I can help her regain it back," he pushed Mizu's sheathed sword away from him.

Kneeling down, he reached over, about to take my kimono into his hands. Mizu, removing her sword now, placed the blade underneath his chin, forcing his head back.

"Last warning. Touch her. I dare you."

He turned his head and smirked, "Never dare someone to do anything."

He placed a firm hand on my shoulder and within a blink of an eye, his entire hand was laying on the ground. Blood poured out of the wound and he grabbed the nub with his only hand, screaming as his eyes bulged in fear.

"Want the other hand, too?" Mizu asked, placing her blade at his wrist.

He slowly turned his head to look up at Mizu, who had a dark glare in her eyes. Quickly, he stood up and grabbed his hand, running off. Sheathing her sword, she offered her hand to me. Taking it, she pulled me up and we walked out of the noodle shop. Others were watching, but I didn't really care at this point. I smiled, knowing the great lengths Mizu would do to keep me safe. It showed as her arm was around my waist, holding me close to her.

"You ok?" she asked after we were a good ways away from that village.

"I am. Thank you, Mizu."

She smiled at me. It was a rare smile only I got to see. And it wasn't her cocky smile she brandished whenever she won a fight or something. It was her genuine smile.

"Can I see your eyes?" I turned to face her.

She stopped and nodded. Pushing back the Kasa to where is sat at the back of her head, she reached up and removed the orange tinted glasses. Once her stark, ice like blue eyes were revealed, I couldn't help myself but cup her face in my hands and pull her in for a sweet and gentle kiss. Pulling away once it was finished, a soft look appeared in her eyes as her smile that was already there softened.

"Thank you, Mizu."

"No one lays a hand on you. Not ever."

"Only you," I smirked, winking at her.

Her face flushed a bright pink as I walked off, chuckling to myself.

[libbyfandom]

Heartbeat

(((This one got kind of, I don't know how to describe it other than I made my own heart sink. Yikes.)))

Possible Triggers: To cover it, there's one explicit sentence about SA. And Mizu has a breakdown.

“My son told me he spotted that Onryō that was seen outside the village.” You hear an older man’s voice a couple tables away as he sits down.

A second one answers, “The guards said he had a woman with him.”

The first man speaks quieter, in a hardened voice. “Truly?”

“Yes. The poor thing was following so close to it. Do your u think she’s controlled by it?”

You take a sip of your tea slowly, staring out the window as the last of the sun’s rays pull away from the street outside.

“But Onryō don’t enslave people, only torment or kill them, don’t they?”

“Maybe this one desired the girl for worse things.”

There’s an eerie lull in the two men’s conversation, imagining the horror of a demon growing in strength and lust for evil.

Your eyebrows furrow, and you stop the condescending sigh that’s rising in your chest.

“How would it even do that?”

Out of the corner of your eye you see the second man lean closer to his companion. “Maybe he ate her heart.”

Your fingers tighten on your cup, your mouth forming a thin line from how your body is slowly tensing up in anger.

“Think about it,” he continued, painting the scene. “The heart chakra is the center of compassion, empathy, forgiveness. An Onryō?” He chuckles darkly, shaking his head. “It’d tear it right from her chest and swallow it into his empty stomach. Instantly she’s tied to it forever, forced to follow the monster that has her heart and suffer it’s desires.”

You take a shaky breath through your nose, setting your cup down. Your stomach is tensing from the urge to find the nearest teapot and just upend the burning liquid over their heads with a impassive face as they scream and burn.

You’re about to stand up when a hand, slender but rough, wraps around your shoulder. A kasa blocks your side view of the men. A familiar pair of lips find their way to the spot behind your ear. “I’m done. Let’s get back to the room,” they murmur.

You try to tilt your head around her large hat to set your hardened eyes on the men again. You estimate if you could successfully make it over there before she grabs you.

“Don’t.”

You turn and look into blue eyes hidden by orange lenses.

“I’ve heard worse,” she utters plainly, glancing outside to see a passing guard. Her hand goes to the hilt of her sword.

The ends of her fingers trail down from your shoulder to press over your heart, feeling it beat under her touch.

A murmur. “Let’s go. Now.”

She guides you with a hand on the small of your back through the tables. You turn and stare with barely contained disgust at the men as you pass by, and it infuriates you when they don’t even notice.

Only a handful of steps away from them the first one blows out a deep breath. A low laugh. “Maybe if we follow the screams of a woman being savagely raped by a monster in the night we can kill it.”

Mizu’s steps slow to a stop.

Your lungs forget how to breathe.

Her hand wraps around your waist with the lightest touch.

The tearoom is so quiet. Your head slowly turns and see that the men are the last ones in there.

“Go back to the room,” her voice is so calm you feel an icy flush dart from your ears, down your neck and rapidly crawl over your spine. It’s that instinctual alarm when a dangerous being is near.

And now, after you felt your own moment of quivering anger, you’re forced to remember what true rage matured by decades of time looks like.

“Mi-“

Her grip tightens to a painful point, and you wince. “Now.”

Her thumb flicks the first several inches of her sword out of the sheath, the metal reflecting the red glow of candlelight.

Her eyes are staring straight ahead, but you know where her attention is now.

When you hesitate too long, she shoves you toward the door. You stumble, your head turning back to glance at the oblivious men. So unaware.

When you stare back at Mizu, her face is impassive. The candlelight in the tea house lights up the orange of her lenses, obscuring your ability to see her eyes anymore.

It’s just flames.

You’ve been pacing your room since you got back. The sky outside has lost the last traces of light.

The last time Mizu’s face was that eerily blank was months ago out in the woods. Ringo was off gathering herbs for dinner when Mizu sat beside you in front of the fire. She hadn’t said a word to either of you for hours.

Her hand had gone to your knee. “You asked me about my mother once,” she had started.

You hesitated, catching on to the weight of this impending conversation. “Yes.”

And then it all came out. She didn’t look at you once, staring into the fire the entire time. You don’t recall her even blinking as she laid everything out bare for you. Her hand clenched tighter and tighter on your knee as she spoke, her arm quivering.

There was only a few seconds between when she finished and Ringo appearing in the tree line again, shouting happily about what he found. You didn’t get a chance to say anything, her hand leaving your knee cold as she quickly retreated to the other side of camp without a word.

Your eyebrows furrow as you silently chew at your nail, your other arm wrapped around your middle.

‘Maybe I should go find Ringo.’

The two of you should go back and look for Mizu. It’s been too long.

You take several hurried steps toward the door when you hear the window slide open behind you, and the chill of the wind rushes in.

You turn, watching Mizu’s blood soaked body climb through the small window. Her sheath makes a muffled thump as she throws it into the room so she can heave herself in.

The blood soaked sheath leaves a short streak of red along the floor from where it slid to a stop.

Mizu’s feet settle on the ground, and she leans back against the open window with a neutral expression. It’s not like the one before, this one is her natural resting expression that isn’t devoid of life. A relief.

Her indifferent expression is normal. The blood soaking into her clothes is normal. The blood splattered across her face is normal.

Her red rimmed eyes are not normal.

She tilts her chin up at you and quirks an eyebrow as your gaze meets.

As if to say, ‘What?’

Mizu…

You silently walk closer, and you see how she leans back against the window as you do. Her bloodied hands clench around the windowsill.

Her eyes harden as you get closer, her jaw clenching. Warning.

But your eyes remain soft, open, unguarded. You reach out and cup the sides of her torso. Unafraid.

Your hands slowly smooth down her sides to her waist and back up. Back down. Again and again. Around her back where you’ve memorized each scar.

She silently, desperately tries to grasp for the last of her stoicism. But her grinding teeth begin to chatter, chest hitching with broken breathes. Her knuckles turn white with how hard she’s gripping the windowsill behind her.

You pry one hand off the window, and it takes several pulls on her wrist before she lets go.

Without breaking eye contact, you stare into her eyes as your hand guides hers to press against your heart. You fold your arms over hers, hugging her arm to your chest as your hand presses down on hers until she feels your heartbeat under her palm.

Constant and unwavering.

A singular, strangled sob tears from her tight throat and she’s crumpling. Tears burn down her cheeks as her form doubles over with the force of her soul finally finding the weak point to break the dam.

It’s you, it’s you, it’s always you and your love for her isn’t it?

Your hand still holds hers tight to your heart as you follow her shaking frame sinking to the floor.

Blood is soaking into your clothes at every point she touches you.

Her head is hanging down between her shoulders, heaving in air more and more and more until she unclenches her jaw and release an ear splitting scream so loud your own teeth clamp shut.

All you can do is hold her until the screaming stops.

When her muscles finally unclench, and her breathing is only a little ragged, you guide her down to lay on her back with her head on your lap.

She blinks up at you, exhaustion lining her wet face. It’s quiet again, so now you’re able to hear how your breathing is in sync.

Her hand, now cracking with dried blood, reaches up and curls around your wrist. Staring intently into your eyes, she guides it under her haori to her own heartbeat.

Blinking away your own tears, you lean over and press your lips to hers.

She closes her eyes as the weight of your hand settles there, and stays.

[unoislazy]

I Am No Coward

(Part 2)

Mizu x Fem! Reader

Summary: You find out that your brothers wife cannot cook for shit.

————————————————————

You and Mikio hadn’t spoken since your last argument. It wasn’t much of an argument as much as it was you just yelling at him, but regardless you both hadn’t talked since. You said nothing to him any time he entered a room, you turned away and continued whatever activity or conversation you held before he entered.

Oh you were mad, beyond that even, but you tried your best not to let it show when around Mizu. Despite your anger towards Mikio you didn’t want it to affect how Mizu viewed him, if she even valued your opinion that much by this point. You helped her out with chores that Mikio had more or less just tossed on her, which were things that you had already been in charge of beforehand. You constantly told her there was no need for her to help, and that if you handled it before, you could handle it now, but she would always insist on helping.

So you let her.

It was coming close to sundown so you gathered up as many ingredients as you thought necessary and set them out to begin cooking. As you had set out your ingredients you had noticed someone enter the room through your peripheral vision. You turned a bit, not wanting to give the person your full attention or acknowledgement in case it had been Mikio, but you quickly realized that the person was actually Mizu. Now knowing this, you greeted the woman with a wide smile and beckoned her to join you.

“Would you like to help me prepare the food?” You asked as she knelt down beside you. She looked at all the ingredients you had set out with a confused look very evident on her face.

“I can try… but I’ve never actually cooked before.” She admitted, looking up from the food and towards you. Your smile never faltered, as you turned back to the now heated pot before you.

“We all have to start somewhere right? Here, why don’t you chop some of these.” You instructed, pushing some vegetables towards her and handing her the knife. You could see her eyes light up almost the instant she looked at the knife, happy to finally see something she knew how to properly use without help. She nodded at you before chopping to her heart's content. You on the other hand began to get the spices and other parts of the meal prepared before the vegetables.

You were nowhere near the level of a chef, you simply had to learn the hard way what worked with cooking and what didn’t. In the very beginning of your stay with Mikio, you fondly remember him taking at least some time out of his day to help teach you some basics to cooking. You wished you could somehow convince him to go back to the way he was, but you couldn’t change him and you knew that, and at this point you didn’t want Mizu to get hurt trying. She was his wife after all but you still felt awful sitting by and watching as he ignored all of her attempts to get on his good side.

On the bright side of everything, you truly enjoyed Mizu’s company and you made sure it was obvious to her. She always seemed so genuinely interested in everything you showed her how to do, from cleaning the stables, to cleaning the house, feeding the horses, and now even cooking. She was making an effort to adjust to this new life and she had not a single complaint about it. It had taken you a moment to get used to two other people being around all the time, but when it came to Mizu you welcomed it with open arms.

She was a lot more clumsy than one might initially believe her to be. The amount of times she had tripped or dropped a bucket while cleaning was enough to count on two hands. It seemed to you as if she wasn’t used to the apparel she now wore everyday which struck you as a bit odd, but you truly didn’t put any more thought into it. If anything, you found her slip ups pretty adorable for someone so tall and quiet.

“What do I do with them?” You heard Mizu ask, snapping you out of your thoughts almost immediately. You looked towards the dark haired women, quickly noticing the now entirely full plate. She had minced every single thing you had given her and it was clear that she was eagerly waiting for more.

“Oh, just set those aside for now. Here take this.” You instructed, handing her a small bowl of spices as you grabbed the stacked plate of vegetables.

“Just add a pinch into the pot while I try and find…” Your voice trailed off as you continued to search the area for your missing utensils. You could’ve sworn you had placed a ladle out along with the rest of your ingredients. You turned every which way, not seeing it anywhere as you placed the plate down and stood up. You looked back at Mizu who was holding a now empty bowl of spices, but this fact had gone completely unnoticed by you.

“You can add a few of those in, I just need to go and find a ladle.” You said, pointing at what Mizu needed to do next before walking off. Once you had quickly found the utensil you had needed you returned to the room to find Mizu now holding three barren spice containers. This time you indeed noticed.

Your eyes widened as you looked towards Mizu, then the pot, then back at Mizu who was just looking at you with a blank stare. Maybe it wasn’t as bad as you thought, there's a possibility she might’ve just added the right amount and… the rest just disappeared.

You knelt down near the pot, carefully stirring the soupy concoction with your new found ladle, and very carefully gave it a small sip.

Your face very quickly contorted into a sour grimace as you placed the ladle down. You noticed how Mizu’s blank stare very quickly turned to disappointment and you immediately felt horrible, despite the whole situation truly not being that big of a deal.

“I should’ve been more descriptive.” You reassured Mizu, she had told you she never cooked before so you probably should’ve taken more caution when instructing her.

“Is it fixable?” She asked, looking towards the plate of vegetables with a hopeful gaze.

“As much as I want to approve that idea, those aren’t going to fix this.” You joked, earning a bit of a pout from the woman. You snickered a bit at her reaction, before handing her some water. “This should dilute it a bit.” You offered, handing her the bowl. Just as she was about to pour the water in you stopped her, having thought of a harmless yet still annoying prank. You grabbed a separate bowl and poured some of the non-diluted soup in, then told Mizu to continue pouring the water in. She watched you set the bowl aside with pure confusion before adding more water.

“What’s that bowl for?” She asked, now putting the empty bowl down.

“Don’t worry about it. Now where are the vegetables?” You questioned, it wasn't exactly directed at Mizu, it was more or less just you speaking aloud. You both search around the very small area taken up by your cooking materials before you spotted them. You reached for them with haste but you hadn't realized that Mizu had too. She had managed to put her hand on the side of the plate before you had, so you ended up lightly grazing her hand with your own. You immediately retracted your hand, not wanting the moment to linger, but at the same time there was some part in you that did.

You very quickly just chalked it up to an intrusive thought, afterall you were not going to make moves on your brother's wife, you accidentally touched hands, it was nothing more than that, calm down.

So that's what you did, you retracted your hand and paid no mind to the action as if it had never happened before telling Mizu to throw the vegetables into the broth. She nodded, doing just as she was told, and dumped them in and as if by some miracle, the food began to smell really good, just the way it should.

While you both waited for the food to finish cooking, you thought it a good time to just talk to the woman.

“So… How are you and Mikio getting along?” You asked, turning to Mizu who was now blankly staring at her hands that were placed carefully on her lap. You could sense the inner turmoil on whether or not she should answer truthfully, so you decided to help her out a bit.

“If you wish to speak ill of my brother, trust me I won’t be mad.” You began to reassure her lightheartedly. “I guarantee that your complaints would equal mine.” You continued, earning an acknowledging smile from her.

“I don’t think he likes me all that much.” She admitted quietly as if she was ashamed to have said so. You looked towards her with a bit of pity evident in your gaze, not because you pitied her not being liked by Mikio, but because you pitied her for even valuing his opinion of her in the first place. You had to remind yourself, she is his wife now so it would only be natural for her to want him to at least show some approval of her. That only made his current treatment of her even more upsetting in your eyes.

“I’d say not to pay him any mind, he’s just a grouchy old man who doesn’t see potential in anything that wont get him back his honor.” You explained, sounding as if you were joking but you both knew you werent.

“Has he always been this way?” She asked, turning towards you a bit more to show her interest in your response. You smiled a bit, not looking up at her as you told her,

“No. He used to be very kind and patient, I’m sure you would’ve loved him had you met him before… but now? Ever since he lost his title he’s been so hellbent on regaining his honor that he truly doesn’t care about much else.” You rambled slightly, your hand balling into a fist a bit as you clutched onto the fabric of your clothes, trying not to let yourself get lost in the emotions of what was. As much as you missed the old Mikio, you knew even then he still had his flaws. You remembered vividly how he refused to teach you anything related to fighting, he claimed it was too dangerous but once you had argued it was more dangerous for you to not know how to defend yourself, he dropped the topic entirely and avoided you any time you would try and bring it up again.

That’s why you were so intrigued when you found out that Mizu was able to fight. You had hoped to one day work up the courage and ask her to teach you because you knew, especially by this point, your brother was in no position to change his mind. You figured now was not the best time to ask as you looked up to the woman whose brilliant blue eyes were staring back at you, a sympathetic expression on her face.

“Well, at least you know if you ever get tired of dealing with him, you can always come and find me.” You smiled at her, trying to cover up any negative feelings you might have let slip while thinking about your brother. You wanted her to get to know him for herself and make that decision on her own. The last thing Mizu needed was someone telling her how horrible her husband is, after she had just married him, that was sure to go south fast.

Mizu gave you a small smile before turning back to the boiling pot which definitely smelled like it was ready. Very eager to try her first guided attempt at cooking, Mizu began to pour out the soup mixture into different bowls.

You, however, had kept the bowl with leftover undiluted soup and purposefully placed it down where Mikio always sat.

It hadn't taken long for both Mikio and Mizu’s mother to join you two at the table, both of them just as eager to eat as you and Mizu were. Before you ate however, you made a point to Mikio that,

“Yours is a special recipe, I just wanted to try something different than usual.”

Making sure to keep any of the blame for the tastefully challenged meal off of Mizu. Both Mizu and Mikio looked towards you, the same lack of certainty spread across their faces as they looked towards Mikio’s bowl. It didn’t look too much different from the rest of the dishes, but the moment Mikio placed the bowl to his lips and took not even a full second of a taste, he knew what was wrong. His face scrunched just as yours had done when you originally tasted the extremely strong broth. He immediately placed the bowl down, trying to suppress the urge to cough or spit it out to not look bad in front of Mizu and her mother. You watched on in glee as he proceeded to make himself look like an idiot, all while he sent an unrelenting glare your way.

“I see you must have forgotten a few steps.” Mikio muttered through several coughs. You merely smiled, very cheekily one might add, at the man before commenting,

“I guess you’re just not strong enough to handle that taste.” You shrugged before sipping your own food, which evidently tasted much better than his. He knew you were trying to get under his skin, the worst part in his eyes, was that it was working. He knew you were upset, he knew you didn’t like the way he had been acting, but he also believed he knew what was for the best. He believed if he continued working everything would go back to the way it was and then you would no longer have a reason to be so petty towards him. He wasn’t ready to be swayed on his thinking, so he wouldn’t be.

The three of you ate in peace before Mikio fully placed his bowl down and stood up, claiming that he had more work to finish up before leaving the room in silence. Mizu looked towards the door the man had just walked out of. Her expression wasn’t easy to read but she definitely didn’t exactly seem sad that he had left. She then turned to you, gesturing to Mikio’s now abandoned plate and asked,

“What was that for?”

“Just… some sibling rivalry. Nothing really.” You answered. It wasn’t exactly a lie. In a way you were rivals but you just hadn’t realized how yet.

[mt-oe]

OK, MIZU X VERY CLINGY READER?? like reader deadass will NOT let go of Mizu unless necessary and mizu will tease reader about it in a loving way. like just imagine reader snuggling on top of Mizu and resting their head on her abdomen and she just says something in a teasing voice like- “mm you just gonna keep holding onto me like that, love?” OH MY GODSOMEONE NEEDS TO MAKE MY BRAIN SHUT UP PLS😭

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Hey dear!

Thank you so much for the very cute and sweet request <3 Finally, a reason to push my drunk reader agenda forward www

Also, sorry if this took longer than usual. Hospital wifi sucked and my draft didn't save ;; I had to re-write a whole chunk purely from memory.

Not sure what is considered as 'lightweight' or whatever since I never really thought of those things when I drink, so if it's too much or too little then..oopsies.

Hope you enjoy! Mwa mwa :*

warning/s: not proofread, short, mention of vomiting (mild), she/her for mizu, implied afab reader

It was already a few hours past midnight. Mizu was laying down on the couch, reading a random book she had found in the book store. 'The Honjin Murders' was the title. The cover looked cool and even had a knife on it, so it definitely got her attention. Because as much as she didn't want to judge a book by its cover, she's only human. We have our moments like that.

On her chest was her girlfriend, eyes closed, and cheeks flushed and warm. An occasional mumbling noise or a slurred-out random question like 'do you think I can fight a bear with my bare hands?' would come from you. Mizu wouldn't admit it but she was having the time of her life right now.

You had just gotten back from a girl's night out with your friends. A little way of catching up after a whole semester of not seeing each other. Akemi and the others invited her too, but she wasn't really a big fan of the effects alcohol had on her body and opted to stay at home.

Upon opening the door, the sight of your heavily flushed face, drunken unconscious smile and the disheveled appearance of Ise and the other girls greeted her. You all reeked of alcohol, heavy perfume, and a bit of tobacco. "Umm..girlfriend delivery..?" Akemi chimed awkwardly, sweat dropping at the miffed look on Mizu's face.

She narrowed her eyes in response to the little joke as her eyes landed on you. "I was hoping you'd bring her back conscious," she said in a low tone, making them laugh nervously. You were being held up by two of Akemi's friends, face heavily flushed, hair tossed out of the hairdo you put it in earlier, and your lipstick was replaced by a thin sheen of saliva. With a sigh, she gently wrapped her arms around you before picking you up bridal style, cringing at the smell of beer coming from you.

The moment you felt her warmth around your figure, you opened your eyes slowly, blinking the blurriness brought by intoxication off before letting out a grunt. She felt you tilt your head upwards, looking at her before furrowing your eyebrows together, finger raised up to poke at her chin. "Would youu...rather have...urgh..my nipples are rubbing against my bra."

Yep.

That was definitely her cue to bring you inside.

After bringing you in, the 'full caretaker girlfriend' mode in her brain switched on. She immediately helped you get dressed into something comfy, removed your makeup and did your skincare for you, and handed everything you said you needed even though you didn't need it. Hell, she even shoved her finger down your throat to help you vomit.

You were her little intoxicated princess tonight.

Once she was done helping you out, she completely expected you to go to sleep after. Little did she know that you've decided to be the clingy-type of drunk tonight. A small strangled-like gasp escaped her throat as you pulled her by the back of her collar, burying your face on her neck. "Nooooo don't go!" you cried against her skin.

She tried her best to get you to sleep, knowing full well that you were going to be the grouchiest hungover in the morning, but whatever she tried didn't work. Watching youtube videos, having a staring contest with you, playing slow songs. Now, she was stuck with you laying on her chest as she read her book.

"Would you still love me if I was a worm?" you asked her, speech still a bit slurred. Mizu raised an eyebrow at your odd question. Realistically, she knew she wouldn't, but reality didn't really matter when it comes to love. Only her girlfriend's happiness did.

She closed her book slightly to look down at you. Her breath hitched slightly as your glossy eyes looked back up at her, melting at the adorable sight. "Of course I would," she answered, giving your head a little pat.

"Liar," you huffed, closing your eyes as you nuzzled against her. "I see you step on worms all the time. You'd step on me too."

She huffed back at you with an amused smile. She could feel the pout in your voice. "I promise I wo—"

"It's okay," you cut her off with a drunken giggle. You looked back up at her, trying to lift your head but the remaining alcohol in your system allowed you to do so for a few seconds before you crashed back on to her chest. "I'd let you step on me."

Mizu rolled her eyes at your response. "You're very drunk. You know that?" she asked you, setting her book down on the carpet to pinch your cheek. "How did they even get you this drunk?" The playful exasperation was heavy in her voice.

You grinned at her, snuggling your face in between her breasts. "Well.." you trailed off, giggling a bit. "We haaad...Jager in a pretty preeeeeetty frozen little shot glass, then we washed that down with beer.."

A slight shiver went down her spine as she felt your hot breath against her collarbone. Her hands moving your hair to cool you off a bit. "Then..we had Cuervo. Then we tried this...this..cocktail that tasted like chocolate.."

"No wonder," she sighed, wrapping her arms around you. Although Mizu had admittedly had her fair share of bad experiences with drunks (mostly leading to fist fights), she had to admit, you were definitely the cutest one yet. "Next time, try to drink a bit more responsibly, okay?"

You shook your head at her words, wrapping your arms around her tighter. "I don't want to drink responsibly. I want my girlfriend," you whined, making her snort. You were definitely still too drunk for this conversation. "My girlfrieeeeend.."

"And who's your girlfriend? What's she like?" Maybe if she played along, she could finally get you to sleep. Blue eyes watched you sigh, melting into her arms with a dreamy smile. "My girlfriend is...my Mizu!" you answered, laughing slightly as your head rested against her breast.

She could feel your arms hold onto her tighter, weight pushing down against her's as you started to get a bit more excited. "She's the prettiest, coolest, grumpiest person ever..and she's mine!" you rambled, an amused laugh escaping her lips at your words. "H-Hey! Don't laugh!"

Mizu smiled at you apologetically as you continued to pout at her in drunken grumpiness. "Sorry, sorry. How 'bout we go to bed and take a nap so you can see her in the morning?" she asked, still playing along. "No! Dun' wanna!" you replied in a bratty tone, huffing once again. "You're staying with me!"

Your arms held on to her tighter, legs wrapping around her's almost possessively. "Mmm..So you're just going to keep holding on to me like that, love?" she said teasingly. At your nod, she chuckled and lifted you a bit higher so your head rested against the pillow, nestled near her neck.

Slowly, she felt your body relax, fingers releasing their grip on her shirt. The rhythm of your breathing becoming steadier, the depth increasing. Once again, she picked up her book and continued to read, wanting to pass a bit more time to make sure you were fast asleep.

However, while she was half into the book, you suddenly lifted your head again. She raised an eyebrow, a bit taken back at the sudden movement. "What is it, love?" she asked, getting ready to get whatever you needed just in case.

Your eyes blinked sleepily before you leaned your head down, planting a kiss on her lips. "G'night..I love youu," you mumbled with a soft little smile before crashing back onto the pillow. She blinked in both surprise and mild astonishment.

A goodnight kiss?

While drunk out of your wits?

Lord help her.

There was no way she could fight off a smile after that display. How did she score such a cute wife? Mizu had to take a few deep breaths to keep herself from laughing at how cute that was. Who cares if you woke up grumpy from your hangover? This was definitely worth it.

[hauntingofhouses]

I just keep obsessing over how Mizu is so many things. She truly is water, so deep and unfathomable and complex, ever-changing, ever-adapting, fluid and mysterious, she fits into every shape you pour her into, she is gentle yet vicious, soft-hearted yet callous, stoic and quiet yet still sarcastic and playful.

She is Japanese and white and both and neither, she is woman and man and both and neither, she is human and demon, she is ronin and bride and Onryo and phoenix.

She is also a sword; Mizu and her sword are one.

"The sword is the soul of the samurai."

"I am... made of mixed metal. No amount of hammering can remove my impurity."

"What is a sword? [...] It is a line. On one side of the line is life. The other, death. The edge we forge cuts the line between life and death."

Mizu's soul is thus represented by her blade, but Mizu is also

the metal: beautiful, strong, sharp, and precise, but ultimately neutral, neither good nor evil, as metal can be used to craft both weapons of death, or knives for cooking and nourishment;

the maker: artistic and passionate, the maker creates;

and the one to wield it: deadly and swift, the swordsman destroys.

In the first episode, we don't even see her blade for much of it, only mentions of it, as she doesn't even deign to fight someone like Hachiman the Flesh-Trader in Ringo's noodle shop.

Most people don't even deserve to see her blade. And who is the first person in the show whom the sword is even shown to? Well...

Taigen: "Are you afraid to fight with steel?" Mizu: "Thank you. No one has yet deserved my blade."

And then, more crucially, who does she actually allow to wield her blade? The first person she spars with? It is none other than Mikio, her husband.

She literally passes him her sword, letting him wield it for the rest of their fight, taking his naginata in exchange. Not purely a crossing of blades, but an exchange of it. Mizu is literally baring her soul to him and putting it in his hands.

In the whole show, the only other time we actually see someone besides Mizu holding her sword is after Mizu kills the Four Fangs and passes out from her wounds. Ringo picks the unconscious Mizu up, and in the process, her sword slips from her hand.

And then, resisting his selfish quest to reclaim his honour, Taigen tells Ringo a safe place for Mizu to recover and follows them both there, but not before he takes Mizu's sword, and also Chiaki's broken blade.

It is brief, but he does hold it, and the shot focusing on his hand picking it up places further emphasis on this fact.

Now, about the broken blade, @saessenach told me something very interesting, which is that when Mizu had helped craft this sword, it was made for the man she believed Chiaki was. And who exactly is that again? Let's go over the cover story he related to Master Eiji:

"I am not a swordsman. I bind books. I was taught my trade by... my father. He was killed by a drunk ronin, who cut my father down for splashing him with his cart. This ronin is a drunk, but he is skilled as I am not. He will kill me. I know this. But with a sword from you, Master, I can take his life as he takes mine. And die avenged."

So, as @saessenach so aptly put it, the broken blade "was made for a man who wanted to regain his honour from a stronger swordsman. He doesn't expect to survive the duel, but would just like to die with honour."

And doesn't that sound familiar? Like Taigen, a man who would also like to regain his honour by duelling a swordsman stronger than himself? Taigen, who had also come from nothing, who was raised not to be a samurai, but a humble fisherman, by his father who is now dead?

So of course that's why, when Taigen wields that broken blade, despite not even knowing the story behind it, Ringo unwittingly glimpses it anyway, and says this:

"Master Eiji's broken blade is a good fit for him."

Mizu just shrugs and frowns, refusing to accept it, because the sword isn't just bearing Master Eiji's signature, but also hers. A part of her is in this sword, just as a part of her is in all the blades she makes (though none of them are her soul, which is represented only by her meteorite sword).

But then later, after fighting together and barely making it out from the chasm of arrows alive, after seeing each other's skills, only then does she admit to Taigen:

"The broken blade fits well in your hand."

Which is why she (after knocking Taigen out and leaving him lying in the snow LMAO) leaves him with the broken blade, and again comments on how it "so well fits his hand."

Also, on the topic of the broken blade, why did it break again? Well, Mizu is one of the sword's makers, signing her name on it, thus putting a little of her soul into it as I already mentioned. According to Master Eiji, this process of the soul entering the sword occurs during the yaki-ire:

"The yaki-ire is when metal is reborn, and the soul enters the sword. All must be pure for the sword to be pure. The metal, the maker, the one to wield it."

As this process unfolds, this conversation happens:

Eiji: "Mizu. Is your mind clear?" Mizu: "It is." Eiji: "Mizu. Is your soul at rest?" Mizu: "It is."

However, after Master Eiji presents Mizu with the finished sword, it breaks, much to Mizu's disheartenment.

Chiaki: [About the blade being broken] "How could this happen?" Eiji: [...] "An unexpected element entered the blade." [...] Mizu: "The fault is mine. The element is me."

Mizu is right; she is "the unexpected element" that broke the blade, but not because of her race, nor her gender, but because her mind is not clear, and her soul is not at rest.

Why? Because the yaki-ire takes place right after she binds for the first time; she is in pain both physically and mentally, ashamed of who and what she is, hiding her true self, trying to smother an inherent part of her identity.

Then, about Bloodsoaked Chiaki wielding a sword which is broken, Master Eiji says this,

"A soul like that is drowned in blood. There is no stopping them. They will always find their broken blade."

This parallels Mizu breaking her blade after her rampage through the nine levels of Shindo and Fowler's fortress, after she gets literally soaked in blood.

After storming the fortress, her blade, too, is broken, and she is unable to melt it down and repair it.

Master Eiji: "Your sword broke because the blend was wrong." Mizu: "It was perfect." Master Eiji: "It was too pure. Your metal wants to be blended with new steel."

The sword, as, Mizu's soul, houses all the rage that has festered over the years. The purity of its meteorite steel represents her single-minded, hate-driven goal for vengeance.

On that note, it's interesting to remember that the meteor fell in front of Mizu during her confrontation with Taigen and his gang of bullies. That encounter was the beginning of her rage, the moment she stopped running and hiding, and instead fought back, clawing and throwing herself at the people who mistreated her. The meteorite thus represents her anger, her fighting spirit, her resistance.

Over time, she crafts her sword--her soul--purely out of this anger, and sets off on her revenge quest.

Of course, she then meets her mother, gets married to Mikio, and after their betrayals, Mizu once again resumes her quest.

But after her journey seeking Fowler, after meeting Ringo and Taigen and Akemi, Mizu's soul no longer feels singularly bound to her hate. She's made friends, she's starting to let people in, but she still suppresses those feelings, still insisting that she is just an Onryo, that she has no room for love or friendship or weakness, despite the fact that those are things her soul craves and needs deep down. She needs gentleness and respite, she needs to allow herself to be vulnerable and allow herself to love again, because she's not a demon--or at least not completely.

"There may be a demon in you..."

When Master Eiji says this to Mizu, he's not insulting her; by demon here, what he is referencing is the part of Mizu that is capable of great wrath and violence. Just like a demon is.

"...But there is more."

Mizu is still a human being. And she should let herself be one, should allow herself to feel more than just rage, but also joy, grief, love, and even pain.

"If you do not invite the whole, the demon takes two chairs."

So that's when she finally allows herself to start "allowing the whole"; she stands in front of the fire completely naked, no longer suppressing her true self, and melts the metal of those she collected, which are, in order,

the broken blade that now represents Taigen;

Akemi's knife;

Ringo's bell;

and Master Eiji's tongs.

These are people whom she cares about, who compel her to open herself up and see beyond her hate, who make her feel like she is capable of being more than just a demon.

By blending their steel into her future sword, she is accepting them, and the lessons and values they had taught her along the way, into her soul.

But as it stands now, Mizu does not have that sword. Not yet, for it's yet to be forged, as she gives the blended metal to Master Eiji.

Mizu: "If I succeed [to kill Fowler] and am still alive, I will return. And you can determine if I am worthy of a sword of this metal, made by your hand."

Which is why, in the finale, Mizu only fights with a random assortment of weapons she picks up (a sword, a naginata, a gun--but never shoots it--and the dagger Fowler stabs her with).

And then of course, Fowler drops the big reveals about Skeffington and Routeley; about her birth mother having been killed by one of the white men; about her Mama actually being a maid who was paid to keep her hidden.

With all this, there is so much she's still yet to know about who she is, who her parents are, and her identity is left hanging. So she leaves Japan not only to kill the remaining white men, but also to discover more about herself and her heritage--her white half. And this also mirrors the way she looks at the very end:

her hair grown out, her bangs identical to how she looked as a child; no longer wearing a scarf around her neck, no longer covering a part of herself.

Thus, Mizu will eventually receive her new sword that matches the new state of her soul, made of steel that "could kill a god."

But for now, she needs to understand who she really is, to discover the full breadth and complexities of the metal that made her, and the hidden depths within herself. In doing so, she must also learn to accept her anger as a tool, but cannot let it control her lest she become a demon; thus, she must allow herself to love as much as she hates, and most of all, simply let herself be.

Only then, can she claim her sword--her soul.

[olderthannetfic]

Until I read the comments on that one post I had no idea the Bechdel Test was a joke and wasn't supposed to be a serious measuring stick by which you gauged if something was feminist or not. Everywhere I'd ever heard it brought up, it was brought up as a very serious thing, and it was a failure of media if it didn't pass it. I remember the debate about Mako Mori from Pacific Rim and if she was a character you were "allowed" to like as a progressive person despite the fact that Pacific Rim doesn't pass the Bechdel Test, the discourse, the discussion of if the director was sexist for not writing in another woman for her to chat with about non-men related stuff, the camp of people trying to insist that having a fully realized character arc and being as developed as any of the male leads = good writing even if she doesn't talk to another girl...

And I've also had the remark about my writing not passing the test, just not to my face. I searched my fanfic's name once, curious to see if anyone was discussing it outside of tumblr and AO3, and found a Tiktok complaining about it not passing the Bechdel Test. The top comment was "motherfucker YOU don't pass the test but we still watch your ass". I cackled and moved on, but neither the commenter, poster, nor I had any awareness this wasn't Feminist Media Critique 101 theory and was, in fact, a goof.

Right now there's a segment of fandom debating if Blue Eye Samurai is feminist since when Mizu and Akemi talk, they do bring up men, since, y'know. Women aren't considered people with rights in their era in Japan and thus it's something they mention instead of only talking about being cool girlboss badasses who never bring up gender. If something doesn't pass the Bechdel Test, a smug segment of the internet high-fives itself and congratulates one another on being More Feminist Than Thou.

They then get really angry if you disagree, even though by this metric, Sleeping Beauty (the original animated one, where Aurora has only 16 lines of dialogue) is more feminist than Blue Eye Samurai.

--

*DYING*

Okay, so, nonnie....

Dykes to Watch Out For (1983-2008) was a long-running comic and major piece of lesbian media. I grew up buying compiled volumes at the bookstore. To be honest, that kind of 90s-ish lesbian culture isn't really my scene despite me being bi, but it was very nice to have this slice of life-y somewhat realistic, occasionally somewhat parody, look at the queer communities around me. It's up there with Tales of the City for me in terms of being a window into a particular culture and time and place.

If anybody is interested in queer history, in addition to looking up factual info, I think a read of the complete Dykes would give a really good overview of how people were thinking about things and what issues came up a lot. You'll see things like Barnes & Noble increasingly putting feminist bookstores out of business in the 90s, attitudes towards porn in lesbian circles—all kinds of cultural issues of the day.

I drifted away as I got later in my teens and found more genre fiction I cared about, but at one point, this comic was a very welcome antidote to the glurgey coming out stories that made up a lot of the more realistic media.

Anyway, here's the comic itself, reproduced in its entirety because I think it's important to actually understand the context.

This is from 1985, so the era of Rambo, Conan, and Death Wish, each of which you can see being made fun of here. It's based on Bechdel's friend Liz Wallace's actual rule for seeing movies.

That's it. That's the origin of this whole stupid test.

"LOL, fuck 80s action movies". That's it. That's the joke.

The fact that blockbusters still routinely fail to pass in the 2020s is shameful, but that was never the point of the strip.

[bethelighthalazia]

Ruined everything!

Summary:  Jealousy takes the better of your boyfriend and the stress of the last days just makes him say things he regrets.

Genre: angst (?), fluff (?)

Pairing: bf!Hongjoong X fem!reader

Word Count:  604

Warnings: none

[note: It's just a little drabble, but i saw this gif and it just gave me this tiny bit idea which i just had to write down ^^’]

© by bethelighthalazia. Do not repost, copy or translate. Unless stated otherwise, those works are mine and born from my own ideas. I don't have any claim on the mentioned real existing Idols whatsoever.

Laughing, you stood aside with Seonghwa, who was taking his break from shooting. You had brought coffee for everyone and waited with him for all the others to take their break too, although when Hongjoong comes up to you, he already looks a bit moody. It doesn't stop you from holding his coffee towards him with a smile.

“Hey Joong, here's your coffee. Seonghwa said you didn't have one y-” Before you could finish your sentence though, one of the members accidentally bumps against you while talking to the others and causes you to drop Hongjoong's coffee. Unfortunately, it spills onto his outfit. You tried to catch the cup and when you look up into his face, you actually wince, his expression more than angry.

“Great, y/n! Now I have to get changed and the staff has even more work!” Hongjoong huffs out, grabbing the tissues from your hand harshly before you hurry to get more tissues. “Hongjoong, it's fine, the stain is not as big, we can fix it.” Seonghwa tries to calm the captain, but for some reason, this seems to anger him just even more. “Yeah, of course you stand up for her, huh? How about you take her then? Don't need a stupid girlfriend who ruins everything all the time!”

These words feel like a slap in your face and the moment Hongjoong turns and sees you standing there, he feels horrible for saying it. Of course he loves you, but the day had stressed him so much, he lost his patience and let it out on you. “Y/n, I-” He started, but cut himself off, noticing the tears that had appeared in your eyes. 

You didn't want to hear it, your week already had been shit and now your boyfriend says this? Before anyone could react, you throw the tissues at him and turn around, leaving the set, running. It just had to happen someday, Hongjoong is an idol and you are just a normal girl, so why should one like him love you?

It didn't take long for your phone to blow up, the boys asking you to come back and that your boyfriend didn't mean it. When Hongjoong called, you declined the call and turned off your phone for now. If he truly wanted to find you,he knew where you would go. The only place, you always felt safe and comfortable, even though without him, it felt cold.

Hours went by, you had curled up on the chair in his studio, and when Hongjoong entered it, you had fallen asleep from crying. When he saw you there, his heart stopped for a moment, thankful that you didn't leave completely. Carefully, he laid a blanket over you before sending the boys a text, letting them know that he found you. 

“Y/n…I'm so sorry for what I said. I never meant it…” He whispered, his fingers gently caressing your temple, then he carefully lifted you out of the chair to settle down on the little sofa with you in his arms. “D- don't leave me, joongie…” Your voice was quiet and sleepy as you shuffled in his arms without waking up, bringing a sad smile to Hongjoong's lips. 

“I would never leave you, y/nnie…I love you too much for that. You are my best friend, my muse, my treasure. And I'm so sorry for hurting you with my words. I swear, this will never happen again.” He whispered, followed by endless quiet apologies until the captain also fell asleep, his arms wrapped around you in fear of losing you because of his stupid words.

taglist: @mingis-mizu, @tinyelfperson

(if you want to be added to a taglist, follow the taglist-link in my pinned post)

[void-bitten-ghost]

Modern Mizu hears you like a bit of 'danger and excitement' from one of your friends, so she takes you to an underground fighting ring for like, your fifth date. This is after the gun range fiasco, so you've already seen a side of Mizu that not many have been allowed to see.

When she mentions this idea you're like, so fucking excited but still kinda like??? There's one of these here????? Nearby????? Holy shit yes???? Please?????? That's so cool?????

She specifically avoids answering how she knows it exists. This isn't about her. This is about sharing an experience she loves and you've shown interest in.

She picks you up on her bike (because Of Course she would have a motorbike that's like either this hand-me-down or a fixer-upper she restored) and you go. It's exactly what you thought it would be, off vibes and dodgy people, but being with Mizu somehow makes you feel safe because she's confident. But it's not an arrogant kind of confidence, it's a steady, assured sort of confidence that puts you right at ease as she takes your hand and leads you through the crowd.

Now, something you don't know is this is not Mizu's stomping grounds. Not even close. But she knew it by name and reputation and it was close enough you could both make a night out of it rather than three. Although... she wouldn't mind if that were to happen--

She snaps back to reality when you step forward and holler out encouragement to the scrawnier one of the two currently in the ring. The corner of her mouth quirks at your enthusiasm, a brow lifting and a hip popping as she crosses her arms to just. Watch you. As you lose yourself to the energy of the room.

The match ends with the scrawny one getting his ass handed to him by the dude built like a brick shit-house. She expected as much. It takes a certain amount of skill to be able to take a mountain of a man like that down while having such a slight build. She'd know, after all.

Anyway. Everything is going swimmingly until some prick pushes his luck trying to get your attention. You very bluntly tell him he's barking up the wrong tree and he does not take the rejection well. Mizu tries to not intervene directly with your battles too often. You're a capable person, it's one of the things she lov- likes. Likes about you.

But then the burly fuck reaches for you. You smack his hand away and go to headbutt him. She grabs you by the waist before you could start the climb to reach and if you weren't so riled up you might have short circuited at the feel of her calloused hand on your skin.

"This bitch yours, mutt?" He grunts to Mizu, and you see fucking red.

"You fucking dare call her a mutt you jumped up little cun--"

"Yes," she says over you, calm as a still lake, and you do actually short circuit at Mizu calling you 'hers'. The heat of anger in you switches gears to something far sweeter, but no less scalding.

"And I would appreciate it if you didn't upset her," Mizu says, her fingers trailing to your hip and gripping a belt loop possessively. You can suddenly feel every point of contact. Hip, arm, chest...

That's when the man looks at Mizu. Really looks at her with a lean forward and squinted eyes, looking over her tinted shades.

"Onryo," he breathes, and you feel Mizu tense behind you. She hadn't heard that name for a good long while. It was a name from her troubled youth. One she thought was long behind her since going legit.

"You're a long way from home, demon."

"What of it?"

You could sense something was happening as the two spoke in what you thought was an amicable tone, but then Mizu is pulling you behind her and shedding her jacket. You take hold of it instinctively as she went to drop it on the ground and she finally turns your way.

"Everything is fine," she tells you in that same confident tone, but she must see your confusion and anxiety written on your face because she takes your chin in her hand and gives you a quick peck on the lips. You stand there with a stupid, dumbstruck look she grins at as she--

She's heading to the ring. She's heading to the middle of the ring and she's shedding another layer as she climbs over the freshold oh dear gods you don't know what to do. What to think. Holy fucking shit she's right there in a sports bra and baggy pants while wrapping her knuckles-- where did she get wrappings from?????

You're more than short circuiting at this point. You need a soft reboot. Maybe a full reboot at this rate since she's sliding off those tinted glasses and-- oh.

You see her eyes.

You've seen them before, of course. But not like this. Not with this intensity behind them. Like she's looking right through her opponent to predict every single movement his future self might consider making. That indomitable focus had you flushing with heat from head to toe as you watched, mouth parted, breaths quickening.

She floors a man twice her size and three times the bredth and your knees might give out. Are you swooning? You might just be fucking swooning holy fuck--

But then she gets gut punched and then tackled by a secret second opponent and you snap back into the whole situation.

You scream out encouragement to Mizu until your lungs feel dry, and then you scream some more. You want to be the loudest. You want Mizu to hear you and know you're rooting for her while she wipes the floor with these cheating bastards.

There's four of the fuckers now. Four all dressed in similar... you hesitate to call them uniforms. More like they all shopped at the same tec-wear store at the same time. But shit are they fast. You have the slightest moment of worry when you see the glint of metal fly past in one of their fists--

Mizu breaks thier arm with a sickening twist and a wet 'crack', and you think you might never have been so turned on in your entire fucking life.

(And also you might need to address and analyse some things about yourself later...)

The metal drops to the floor with an audible clang and a loud noise goes off somewhere. You're going to be honest, you're not really paying attention to anything else other than how Mizu moves around her opponents. Even outnumbered she holds her own, muscles coiled and yet her movements are smooth like flowing water. You can't help but think of the type that wears away cliffsides and cracks apart mountains, because that's what she's doing. She's fighting smart where they're fighting with force, and she is kicking their fucking asses--

Others converge on the ring, the crowd flooding in to hold them all down and you can't help but notice it takes five fully stacked men to hold Mizu down. And even then that only lasts about seven seconds before she breaks free, methodically picking them all off one by one before she launches herself into the now turbulent crowd.

That's when you panic, shouting for her while elbows and shoulders send you this way and that. You narrowly dodge a fist to the face before a hand grabs yours. You're ready to swing right back when you lock eyes with those sharp blues you so adore.

You both book it out, avoiding flailing limbs and thrown table legs. You've somehow still got Mizu's jacket in the crook of your arm when you both make it outside and keep running, only stopping when the sound of sirens was long, long off in the distance.

You're both curled over in a dark, dank alleyway, breaths haggard and coming out as clouds in the crisp night air.

You look up from your knees, ass pressed against the brick wall to support your wobbly legs, and you can't help but crack a grin when you see Mizu in a similar state, only just realising what the fuck just happened.

The grin breaks into a laugh when Mizu looks to you with a bright smile of her own, it's a wheezing thing at first, but then it becomes a full belly laugh when she joins you. And oh, is that such a rare sight. Mizu losing herself in a laugh and then looking at you with the most beautiful full face smile you've ever seen in your life.

Your giggles die in the face of that smile, replaced with a quiet awe and probably the dumbest looking lovesick stare--

Steps. Multiple steps approach the alley and Mizu's first and only instinct is to hide and protect you, pressing you back against the wall and covering your mouth with her hand, catching your yelp of surprise before it could really become an external sound.

And ohhhhh, what a predicament you find yourself in. Pinned to a wall by this very strong and capable and, evidentally, dangerous woman who took you out tonight to a place you would only dream of going to and protected you the entire time and then caused a room wide fight to break out that she was, up until that point, winning--

Ohhhh my phone is currently dying a death imma have to post and carry on later because my brain is a bastard that way 🙃

[onedeadkitty]

Mizus Gender

He/him they/them she/her pronouns for Mizu

I know the writers of the show wrote blue eye samurai with Mizu as a woman disguised as a man in a way similar ish to Mulan but uh

They accidentally made it deeper than that ??

If you removed like 2 lines of dialogue in episode 5 you could even make an argument for trans masc Mizu. Or at the least gender queer.

Being transgender is not a concept in this time period. But trust. People have always wanted to be other genders, probably for the entirety of human history. And how someone would go about being trans in a world with no true understanding of the concept, might be similar to what Mizu IS DOING RIGHT NOW.

Living as a man. PERMANENTLY. Not temporarily to achieve some near goal like Mulan and the many other stories with this concept. Mizu has lived as a man nearly their entire life and no intention to ever live as a woman in the future.

Mizu admires their freshly binded chest in the mirror as a teen.

When alone Mizu refers to himself as a man.

When alone with Ringo, (someone who knows the secret) Ringo also refers to Mizu as a man.

Mizu threatens to straight kill Ringo at the the very use of the word “girl”.

When, and ONLY when seeing 2 MEN kiss does he think of Taigen.

Not to mention madame Kajis indelicate insinuation of gay sex to Mizu, something I believe wasn’t for no reason. OR Madams iconic line “you are more man than ANY come through my door” (I’m convinced she has an idea of Mizus true sex but doesn’t care to accuse or call them out for it)

They HAD lived as a woman in the past. Only for about a year, and they did it to get married for her mothers sake. To save her from a life of prostitution. She was able to be happy, because it IS POSSIBLE to be happy while not presenting how you like. It’s a strain and some can never be happy doing so but it’s possible and people do it all the time to make their lives easier or to keep the peace with family or for many other reasons.

Episode 5 gave HUGE VIBES of going back into the closet when living with your parents or just visiting. And Mizu looked SO uncomfortable and awkward in woman’s clothing and doing “wife things” (partly cause they have never done that before) and maybe it was my own projecting but I felt so uncomfortable FOR Mizu.

These things don’t necessarily mean being a transgender man specifically. Gender is actually really complicated and has ALOT to do with what society deems it.

Mizu is a masculine person. Being what Japan wants women to be isn’t in line with what Mizu is. A violent, practical, stoic, cold, masculine, confident and capable warrior.

dressing up as a woman with the makeup ONLY to try and make her husband happy. She didn’t WANT to. “To soften her husbands heart, the bride… danced” performed femininity FOR HIM. Only for Mikio to betray her for, in his eyes, being more masculine than him, by beating him in a physical fight.

Mizu is both the ronin and the bride. Mizu will be whatever they need to in order to achieve their owed deaths. They HAVE to be a man to get their revenge but that doesn’t mean Mizu WANTS to be a woman. (To be fair who WOULD in that time but I digress) and it doesn’t mean they WANT to be a man. They WANT their revenge. Everything is secondary to that.

Mizu is so different from other characters…

I grew up in a kinda misogynistic place and my mom really didn’t let me “do boy stuff” or dress masculine in any sense until my late teens. I my self don’t know if I can even call myself Trans. But I’m masculine, I like looking like a man and dressing as one but I don’t WANT to be a man necessarily. But I don’t WANT to be a woman. I feel like we as a society put to much distinction between the two and the people who don’t fit either side get left out at times.

Mizu is such a relatable character to me, like no other characters complicated feelings about their own sex and gender have ever come close.

They are for those who don’t have a strong sense of their own gender. Especially those who are biologically female and hesitant to lean into their sex because of the societal baggage.

Once people realize that how you dress, how you act, and what you do in reality have nothing to do with your bio sex and everything with what society has forced people to do based on factors out of our control is the day we can finally stop having these conversations.

Do what you want, gender is fake.

But Mizu is forever 🫶

[ranbitteeth]

hiii i love ur art and ur fics!!🫶🏽

im desperateee for a reader rails mizu w strap fic😭😭 all the smut i see are of reader bottoming and that makes me hella dysphoric sigh

so so like reader stretching mizu out, lots of whimpering, mizu being nervous, mizu feeling full and claimed, just messy subby mizu taking big strap for the first time plssss😭😭😭😭 maybe some pussy eating foreplay idk, whatever u find best and fun to write. i just need mizu to be a subby bottom its plaguing my mind😵‍💫

A/N: Your wish is my command, dearest! Hhmmm I can never really tell if you guys want a modern/cannon compliant setting— but I find my words flowing easier for the latter. If this isn’t to your liking, I can always write another one! More modern and fluffy

Tags: Possessive!Reader, GN!Reader, Reader is besties w Madame Kaji, DomTop! Reader, Jealous! Reader, Straps, Tried to be historically accurate but one can only do so much research on ancient japanese dildos, takes place sometime before Mizu hops in the boat, Goodbye Sex, Misery.

About 3.8k word count, so I’ll highlight the beginning of the actual smut in red and a star! *

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Parting Ways— To London You Go

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You despised him.

The Blue Eyed Beast of Japan. The onryo. The bastard half-breed that killed the Four Fangs and cut through the Shindo Dojo. Now that was a man that deserved a dog’s death. A humiliating, painful, wretched thing— so much so that pity would spread like disease among even the most hardened of men. A white man had no business in your country. Much less some impure dog, chasing ghosts of white men who had long since fled the island paradise. You believed this yourself, once. The village gossip and fantasies of his approaching death entertained you, excited you. You’d hear of his dishonorable death one evening and you’d think —‘good riddance’.

But no one told you just how much of a darling he was.

You remembered that night to picture clear, the image of his slumped body in the snow so clear in your eyes and memory. His face was twisted into a pained grimace, eyes screwed shut beneath the colored lenses of his glasses— he reeked of blood even in the snowstorm.

Unbeknownst to your family, you brought him inside, ordered your guards to gently place his body in your quarters. The servants made no protest when they saw your insistence on saving this stranger. The wound was seeping a crimson poison onto your floor, red and hot and stinking of blood.

The two of you were alone when his eyelids fluttered open, pained grunts and whimpered muffled by his own teeth against his bottom lip. And you saw it. Blue eyes— unnatural, wrong, and positively lovely. You’ve seen oceans and ponds and skies with less of a dazzling hue. It disgusted you, initially, as the realization of who he was suddenly and violently appeared in your mind.

You hadn’t expected someone so…normal looking.

He did not have a pig’s nose or clammy, sun-abused skin. He was not a beast, giant and ugly— but a man. An injured man, you recalled once his blood stained your palm. Stained your floor, your bed and his clothes. You distantly realized your hands were moving on their own as they undid the binds of his old kimono, and there, beneath the worn, filthy fabric were binds. Not of injury, not of a warrior— but of shame.

Alone in your chambers on a cold winter night amidst the worst storm you’ve ever seen— you knew. The blue-eyed, vicious animal that had earned all of Kyoto’s scorn was in fact a woman.

You adored her.

Your home grew to be a sanctuary to her of sorts. For a being so well despised by the nation, the comforts you provided were scarce luxuries. A bed. A roof. Some semblance of protection. You cared after her like one would a feral pet, a feat which did not go unnoticed. With a blade to your neck and blood painting her hands, she demanded your silence— a vow to never break. As if you’d risk losing such a treasure to the hands of bounty hunters of white men.

The two of you danced with hate for months.

She was a silent spirit, a brewing storm on the distant horizon. At times, you’d catch her eyes on you, other times, she’d notice you doing the same. At times, you’d reach your hand forward and caress the scars on her skin. At times, she’d allow you to– going so far as to present herself.

At times, you’d make love to her. Your depravity was no secret to anyone with ears and working eyes— but your status and wealth made you untouchable. No one but your servants would hear her cries echo from your chambers, and no one but you would see her in the throes of pleasure, head tossed back, expression screwed into one of hesitant bliss and ecstasy.

Or so you thought.

She often returns to you like a dog would weeks after leaving. Loyal, endearing and silent. Whether it was out of some misplaced desire of courtesy or a genuine attachment, you did not know. You’d tell yourself you did not care, but Man would never be born without sin. Madame Kaji, the wonderful hag, would bewitch you in letters with tales of her ladies in the delights her brothel would offer. She mentioned a certain blue-eyed beast in her company in her most previous message. Her letter was pointed, concise, and utterly enraging. By its contents, you would piece together your Mizu’s night with a princess– of all wretched things. After months of silence, alone in your palace with no one but the one and off prostitutes you’d hire and the servants you paid deftly for their loyalty, and the samurai goes off to bed and abandone a lady princess of the Tokunobu clan.

Mizu would not show her face to you until spring. By then, your anger had solidified and festered into an untamable typhoon. As your servants led her to your chambers, Mizu would be standing dead-center in the eye of your storm. Something in her was different. Stronger, yet weaker. Kinder, yet crueler.

“You show your face here again?” You ask cooly, and at least she had the decency to look ashamed, removing her hat. Like this, you could see her properly. (You’d never admit to your anger cooling, but it did.) She does not harden her voice in your presence, but it is quiet, timid, shameful. Before she could open her mouth to speak, one of your servant men approach, head bowed deeply.

“[Title and Name]”, he’d say. Your eyes glance over to him, humming as you granted permission to speak.

“There is a white man inside, bound and immobilized.” He says quickly, bowing his head deeper.

“I only wished for you to be aware.”

Your cold, steely eyes turn to fix Mizu with a chilling stare. She only looks at you head on, taking the challenge. Oh…

“Leave us.” You say, but not before giving an order to boil water over a fire. The door is smoothly slid shut, and the two of you are under the illusion of solitude once more.

“I am to depart for London soon.” Mizu says bluntly, abruptly. You couldn’t have expected anything less. You give no reaction save for a short sigh and two fingers against your temple.

“I am closer to my mission than ever before. I have an informant, I have a boat, I have names.” She talks as if to explain herself, stepping closer in light footsteps, hesitant. “I may not survive through this. I only wished to say goodbye before I leave.”

For a moment, you say nothing. Your mouth is rendered useless as your mind rushes with curses. To the world, to the white men, to Japan, to Mizu, to the hellsite that was London itself. The poisonous concoction of rage and envy that had been brewing for months was bubbling and prickling beneath your skin– only now with the addition of grief.

“This would have been much more convenient in scripture,” you say, voice like hot iron. Mizu’s surprise is tangible, eyes flickering around your features, searching for answers to her questions.

“I adore letters. You know this.” You begin to say, moving from your initial position and circling the room, retrieving several items and placing them on the large expanse of your sleeping bed. You open a box, massive with weight. Inside is parchment, pounds of it. “I collect them.”

You suddenly and harshly shove the box onto the floor, a flurry of parchment and ink spilling at your feet. Mizu seems to shrink, but refuses to cower. Gingerly, you retrieve one excerpt sent just a few months ago from Madame Kaji. You hand it to Mizu, surrounding her. You wait until you are certain she understands what she is reading before you begin to speak.

“Never took you as the brothel-dwelling type.” You say, watching as those demonic, off-putting, oh-so-lovely eyes scan the characters on paper. Your eyes stick to her lips before you remind yourself why you are angry. You imagined those lips entangled with another, and your blood goes cold.

“Nothing happened between me and the princess.” Mizu says, turning to face you. The genuine confusion in her expression is almost insulting. “She meant to kill me that night. Our duel meant nothing. Madame Kaji knows nothing that is true.”

“Not every conflict between you and a stranger is a duel and Madame Kaji is a dear friend of mine.” You reply easily. The hurt in your voice was becoming clearer with each passing syllable.

“You truly believe sailing the seas will come so easy? Do you know how many men I’ve lost in my trades on those voyages? Do you even know what awaits you in London?” You begin to demand these answers, losing the control you pride yourself in as you continue to speak. As a man and a woman, Mizu was nothing but a stupid, lost soul, wandering the earth without an object to attach to. You then gently cup her face in both hands, watching in delight as she melts into your touch.

*“Do you even know how much I’ve wanted you these past months?”

Mizu cannot answer. Her hands raise over yours, fingers brushing against your warmer ones.

“I meant no harm in my absence.” She concedes, round eyes rising to meet with yours. Just like that, the room had shifted. Your eyes darken as they raked along her face and figure, recalling what lay beneath the layers upon layers of fabric she’d use to protect herself.

“You can’t imagine…” You whine, gently undoing the bandages around her neck to expose the delectable skin that lay beneath. Untouched, unseen by all but few. You bury your nose into the crook of her neck before your tongue darts out just to taste flesh and the blood that pumped beneath. Mizu sighs, noticeably relaxing into you. Her arms move to wrap around your neck in a gentle embrace, a position you’ve grown to love and grieve for.

“Gods, how I’ve missed you…” you say, assisting Mizu’s hands and hurriedly undoing her kimono before your hands run hungrily along her skin. Scars, so many more than you remember. A different rage boiled inside of you, protective and not directed to Mizu in the slightest. The two of you move in sync of tangled limbs and warm breaths against open lips. You push her onto your cot, the rage you had felt previously spilling out in the form of hunger. You attack her neck with the teeth in your mouth, suckling and biting down on her white-man skin until cherry-red marks bloom across her neck. She whimpers, coyly craning her neck and exposing herself further– presenting herself. Begging for it. Gods.

“You were away so long I’d almost forgotten what a whore you are…” you coo, undressing her wholly, spreading her legs around either side of your hips. As a surprise to no one, you noticed the particular shininess to the downy hairs on her wet cunt, groaning softly at the sight. Her smell, her taste, her color– you’d spend innumerable nights recalling these things in exquisite detail, going so far as to seek her in other women and finding not one suitable substitution. Your hunger had been building up for months, and now here she was, just as enticing as you remember her. Her teeth nibble down on her finger as she groans into the air.

“[Reader], I haven’t..” she starts, but you shush her before she can continue. Her loyalty only endeared you to her further, and you wanted to remain somewhat angry.

“I know, puppy. You already know who you belong to, don’t you?” You murmured, practically salivating at the sight of her glistening pussy. A whine catches in her throat, allowing you to see in real time her strength and tenacity fail her beneath you. The demon man was nowhere to be found here. You tamed that spirit and contained her in your chambers. You reduced it from a spirit to a man to a moaning, wanton little tart.

“Keep your legs spread and I’ll give you what you came here for.” You order swiftly, to which she nods and complies, spreading her legs further apart. You eagerly adjust your position so that you are resting on your stomach, Mizu’s thighs on either side of your head and your mouth just above her wet cunt. With only an aroused groan as a warning, your tongue descends onto her slick folds, eagerly lapping up the wetness that coated her lovely skin. It was positively obscene, the color and taste of her, the slurping sounds across the room and her whimpering cries as months of stress and anger fell away under your tongue. The poor thing couldn’t even keep her thighs from squeezing around your head, effectively trapping you against her pussy— but it was no matter. Your tongue swirled and massaged what it could reach while the tip of your nose rutted against her clit. Slowly, surely, readily— her raspy, hoarse voice bloomed into something far sweeter, and you could feel the ice around your heart melting. This was the Mizu you knew, without the clothes and glasses and false identity. This Mizu was the one you owned.

You feel her getting close, as it was always obvious with her. You felt her thighs squeezing around your head, felt them shake and tense while her hips bucked against you and her breathing grew more desperate. You feel it, she feels it— she wants it so bad she sobs into her palm. You both know better.

You pull away with a wet, obscene sound, ignoring Mizu’s frustrated groan into her fist. Your lips and chin are wet with her taste and both of your bodies are shining with sweat.

“What? Were you close?” You ask huskily, readjusting yourself so that your body hovers over hers, your fingers pushing in and out of her gushing warmth. You start with two, massaging her insides into relaxation, molding her to your desires. She impatiently pushes her hips against you, holding you in a desperate embrace. You do not hurry, you don’t even respond as you take her lips in yours, letting her taste herself coating your tongue. It was a messy, depraved display— one that made her noticeably wetter around your fingers. Her nails claw into the fabric over your body, tugging it off.

“Take yours off too…” she says in between breaths, eyes half lidded and watery with want.

“You think you can take it already?” You ask slowly, dead serious. Mizu nods, a slow and deliberate thing. Who are you to argue now?

“It’s bigger than the other one. You sure?” You ask again, making slow, hard motions against her wet clit.

“[Reader]…” she gasps, carrying a note of exasperation, her hands now trembling against you. “Please…!”

You laugh, breathless, exhilarated. Your lips gently press against her forehead, a soft ‘wait here’ and a quick trip to the corner of your bedroom later, you retrieve it.

You commissioned this piece long before you knew Mizu would return. Your very own harigata, hard as a tortoise shell, ribbed and heavy in size and weight. You expressed your desire to be able to attach it to yourself to please your lovers and so the artist complied. You held it up with one hand, allowing Mizu to gauge at the weight and size before stuffing it with warm cotton dipped in the previously boiled water at your side. Mizu hasn’t even noticed the servant come in, far too immersed in watching you align the phallus to her soaking cunt. She feels the heat through the tortoise shell and whimpers, hips trembling before she spreads her legs further apart. The head was already pushing against her hole, oh so ready to slip inside. Just as you mean to push yourself in, Mizu makes a strangled little noise and you cease in your tracks.

“Yes?” You ask, already breathless.

“It’s big…” she says, repeating the words you said earlier. You laugh, endeared.

“Yes. You want it smaller?” You ask again, but she shakes her head no.

She licks her dried lips before she swallows. “Don’t hold back.”

Unable to control yourself, you laugh, head falling beneath your shoulders and against her collarbone. Fuck.

“Tell me when you’re ready.”

You feel her nervousness in the tension of her body. As aroused as she was, it had been some time since she’s seen you. You begin with slow, shallow thrusts to get her accustomed to the feel, not going halfway until you hear her get noticeably impatient.

“Hold on, puppy. I don’t want to hurt you…” you say, but you push yourself in deeper to quiet her whimpers. The ribbed surface rutting in and out of her wet heat had its obvious effects. Her knees shake where they are around your hips and her head arches back as she moans, voice breaking. The harigata was doing everything it was designed to do and more. Mizu was falling apart so beautifully and you weren’t even fully inside.

Slower thrusts, still quick but less shallow, and she moves her arms to wrap around your neck in a tender embrace, holding your back to keep herself present. With you.

Some time passes, and you push yourself in further. You feel some natural resistance, Mizu’s breath hitching. You pause and pull away somewhat to check for her expression, finding her eyes wet with tears dripping down flushed cheeks. Her chest is rising and falling in ragged breaths as she struggles to compose herself long enough to get a sentence out.

“No! No, don’t stop. [Reader], please don’t stop,” she whines, cradling your face. You obliged and continued, though far slower than the pace you were going before. Mizu openly whimpers at this loss before she intertwines her legs around your hips by her ankles, keeping you close.

“Could that princess give you what I can?” You say suddenly, still feeling that burst of envy possess you as you rut your hips forward with a precision that only hours of fantasies and failed attempts to recreate Mizu’s body could give you. A shuddering, wanton moan later, Mizu’s hand flies over her mouth. You take that hand by her wrist and pin it to the floor, still thrusting your hips against hers with purpose and vigor. Not all the way in, not yet. “Well?” You ask. You demand.

“N-no…no she can’t…” Mizu damn near sobs, and possession coils in your gut as you push the harigata to reach new depths. Her moans are pitched and broken, you feel and see her falling apart. The poor thing felt so full, unsure what to even make of the delicious stretch your phallus provided or the hot arousal that being beneath you gave her. To some degree, she was yours, and you both knew it.

Feeling pleased with her state as she answered, you finally and gently push yourself in entirely, making her back arch and moans echo across your chambers like they did so long ago. The harigata’s other end pushes against you, makes you groan at the pressure. You look down at her whorish expression, her inky black hair spread like a halo around her head. You see her flushed skin shining with sweat, you see the tremble in her body and think about how much longer you’ll have to go without it.

“You don’t even know what you do to me…” You begin to ramble without thinking, words flowing like water from your tongue while Mizu moans beneath you.

You can’t help the way your hips begin to plow against hers, you can’t help the strength and ferocity that possesses you when you think of the distance that will be between the two of you. When you think of who she could meet and compare you to. When you think of yourself in the future, in bed, alone, aching for a body that will not be there. You cannot control the desire in your body when your hips move in a way that can only be described as primal, and she takes it all. Mizu has always taken what you give her so well, and it wasn’t long before you were both panting each other’s name against your skins, the room now hot and stuffy and reeking of sex. Her voice reaches a certain pitch, her nails claw into the silken fabric of your kimono, and you can tell she’s closer than ever.

A warm flower of pride bloomed in your chest as you realized that one day, if all went well, you could keep her for yourself. You’d no longer spend the lonely nights in your palace inviting women of the night to give you company. You’d no longer need to bear the crushing loneliness in your bed — not when Mizu’s mission would fail and she’d realize her rightful place at your side. Safe and warm. Protected. Yours.

You imagine fucking her day and night when she returns until she’s sore and trembling, unable to stand without your assistance. The mental image and the emotions it ignites inside of you make you openly and shakily moan in sync with her, and the two of you cum in each other's embrace. She’s damn near bitten through the silk of your kimono by now, drool coating the luxurious fabric. By now, she’s hardly the image of dignified, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

You pull yourself off of her with nothing but a smooth roll of your hips and a near-violent shudder from the body beneath you. By then, it had all blurred together into a hazy memory of warm candlelight, golden skin, and warm, damp towels running along Mizu’s body and freshly fetched water poured into her waiting mouth. You only remember the rest you won for yourself that night, the two of you wrapped in a tangle of limbs and half torn fabric, warm.

But you wake up cold, and you recall why she came by in the first place.

“Would it be too burdensome to stay?” You implore, voice breaking with sleep and heartache. That worn, raggedy kimono is once again wrapped around her figure, her bandages back on. Her very aura is cold and distanced, and the weight of her decision truly settles into your skin.

“We can be happy, you know.” You say, almost pleading but with far too much pride to let it show. “I am in the mountains, far from the city. No white man could find you here,” You can’t being yourself to stand. You watch as her expression morphs from one of sorrow and pity to one of distrust, distaste, and near-resentment. Whether it is directed to you or her father, you cannot be sure.

With her back to you and her voice in the tone of a man’s, she bids you goodbye.

You find that— more than anyone— you want her quest of revenge to fail.

How you despised her.

And oh, how you missed her.

[sophswritingthings]

hiya! okay so something i think about a lot is what if reader and taigen get along really well, always chatting and telling jokes. but reader is really oblivious to his flirting and sees it as friendly bantering but mizu can see right through it and gets jealous.

eventually mizu gets fed up and caves in and confesses to reader? something about jealous mizu man…oh lordy 🥴

pairing: mizu x fem!reader

warning(s): swearing

a/n: jealous mizu makes me feel something lmao

summary: seeing you “flirt” (or what she thinks is flirting) with taigen never made her happy. you being around taigen made her pissed, in the first place. at some point; she caves, confessing her feelings that you were very oblivious to.

word count: 526 words / 2,841 characters

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

you were giggling at him; smiling and laughing at his goddamn horrible jokes.

It killed her to think that you were even remotely interested in him; why you would even be wasting five seconds of your precious time thinking about him was beyond her.

you were sitting around the fire, mizu sitting near ringo and you sitting beside taigen.

taigen. taigen!

“taigen! that’s so bad,” you said the words through a laugh, batting him off with a hand. “you can’t be saying things like that to a lady.”

he chuckles back at your words, “I know, I know,” he gave you a wink.

you giggled, adverting you’re gaze. it was as if you were blushing at him. taigen, of all people, you were blushing at fucking taigen.

mizu huffed, hauling herself to her feet. ringo watched as she want; arching an eyebrow at the samurai. she had just gotten her stitches done—it’s not like she didn’t need the rest.

she flopped down on her side, her opposite, side, not wanting to injury herself any further.

that’s when she heard footsteps behind her. she shifted a little.

she looked up to see you, standing over her body with a smile.

“you stomped off so I came to find you,” you stepped around your body, settling just in front of the side she was facing.

“wouldn’t you rather be spending your time with taigen?” she adverted her blue gaze, letting out a little huff of breath.

you raise an eyebrow at her response, “what do you mean?”

she rolls her eyes, letting them land on you, “you know exactly what I mean, damn it—don’t act stupid,” she narrowed her eyes.

“.. I don’t,” you whisper.

“are you really that damn oblivious to your own feelings? he likes you, you like him, is it that hard to figure out?” she hissed, allowing herself to sit up��pouring a drink of water down her throat.

you gazed at her.

“like taigen? we’re.. friends, yes, but I—“

“bullshit,” she hissed. “don’t play dumb with me.”

“I-I’m not,” you murmur. how in hell were you supposed to go about this, without confessing your feelings for the samurai, and very possibly being rejected?

“you are. I can see it; and it fucking hurts, (y/n), because I have all these goddamn complicated feelings for you and i—“

mizu stopped herself.

shit.

“you… what?”

you stared at her, your eyes wide and your mouth slightly agape, as if you wanted to say something. but no words would come out. 

she decided to just own her words. they were the truth, weren’t they?

“.. you—heard me,” she narrowed her eyes a little, looking up at you.

and before she knew it; your lips were on hers.

she let out a little gasp; her blue eyes wide as the moon as she looked at you. she hadn’t been expecting anything to come of it; let alone a kiss.

her hand traveled up your back, coming to rest of the back of your neck as her eyes closed in the warm kiss.

“I-I don’t—I don’t like taigen,” you mumble against her lips, chuckling nervously.

“yeah.. I see that now.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[zeewritez]

The Sailor and The Samurai - I

Mizu x Femme Shipmate/Pirate Reader

Hi my lovelies! I haven't updated in so long and I'm sorry but college has been kicking my ass. (Why tf am I studying biochemistry - because I hate myself). Anyways, I hope to update my other stories soon (I've had chapters for months now, they just need to be edited lol). So for now, here's a little BES fic because I'm in love with this show :)

(Notes: Reader's father is Irish in the fic but she will not be described physically except for having super long curly hair because I like projecting my hair goals onto stories, also I will be using he/him pronouns for Mizu since they are currently being perceived as a man.)

Part 2 now out

Y/n woke up with a splitting headache from the rum she had the previous night. She made a note to self to not attempt to out drink her father, even if he was pushing 60. Rolling out of her cot, she slipped on a blouse and trousers she had acquired from a crew mate at some point. They barely fit, but it was far better than the dresses and corsets she wore whenever they docked back home.

She walked onto the deck just in time to watch over the vast ocean as they approached the isolated island of Japan. She'd been there many times in her career but had only ever been to the ports to assist with loading goods when the crew needed it. Today, there was no need. Instead, she watched with mild curiosity from the crow's nest as crates were loaded onto The Banshee.

The cargo seemed standard: silks, swords, exotic fish. The things nobles in England dreweld over. Yet the passengers were anything but standard. Y/n could barely believe her eyes when the infamous Abijah Fowler was brought on board with guards on each side of him. He was brought to the detention cell, which would have otherwise been used when her father was tired of a crewmate's drunken antics.

Y/n was so taken aback by Fowler's presence she nearly missed the passenger behind him: a young man, a few years older than y/n herself, clad in Japanese garb and yellow glasses. It seemed odd to her, as it was rather overcast outside but she didn't give it a second thought. What she was truly curious about was why Abijah Fowler was on their vessel.

As the ship took sail, she climbed down from the nest and made her way to the detention cell with a curious, if not mischievous, grin.

"I never thought you'd be joining us for London," she teased as she stood outside of his cel, as though dangling her freedom like a carrot. She did not like Fowler one bit, but she found him almost as amusing as she found him vile. Entertainment was hard to come by at sea, so who could really blame her?

"Well I for one am always happy to see you," he said, grabbing her hand through the bars and kissing her knuckles. She rolled her eyes as she pulled her hand back from him.

"What brings you back to the isle?" she asked. "My father doesn't even enjoy England, and he's still in good standing, legally speaking."

"Perhaps he's a better Irishman then me," Fowler said with a shrug. "What does it matter to you?"

The girl looked up in faux innocence. "Oh, I'm just curious."

"Well, why don't you hunt down the samurai that's on board and he can let you know why I'm going back to London," Fowler finally told her. "You've picked up quite a bit of Japanese, haven't ya?"

"Alright, I'll see you around then," she said as she turned to leave.

"You have your mother's rear!" He shouted out, as though y/n had forgotten why she had disliked the man so much. She said a silent prayer thanking the heavens he wasn't roaming freely as she roamed the ship looking for the mysterious man with glasses, which was simple enough.

He stood on the poop deck, staring out onto the ocean, as anyone who has ever treaded water has. The waters had a way of commanding one's attention.

"Hello good sir," the young woman greeted she climbed the stairs, stopping to curtsey out of habit. She'd managed to have some resemblance of good manners despite being raised at sea by a captain with a drinking habit.

The young man stared at her, which was a common response from many men upon seeing her for the first time, regardless of national origin. In fact, Englishmen seemed most taken aback by her appearance. Her hair was long and unkempt, falling down her back in ringlets instead of being pinned into an updo of a proper lady. Her shirt nearly fell from her shoulders and around her neck was a long, beaded necklace that seemed to trail down between her breasts. Y/n giggled at the man's reaction, having expected nothing less.

"Oh, I'm sorry," he spoke casting his eyes away from her eyes out of embarrassment, then down to her strange necklace, then back up to her eyes.

"Don't worry about it," she said, leaning against the Banshee's railing. "It is lovely to make your acquaintance, may I ask your name?"

"Mizu," he answered, finally less taken aback by the strange woman. "And you are?*

"Y/n," she said, reaching out her hand limply, again out of habit more than anything else. Mizu looked at her with pure confusion, almost fear. Y/n giggled again, this time to hide her embarrassment. "It is expected to kiss a lady's hand where we're going."

Mizu nodded and cautiously took the girl's hand, which was smaller then her own, and cool to the touch from the ocean winds. He kissed it with the gentleness most men she encountered lacked.

"You'll make a proper gentleman," y/n remarked as she retrieved her hand once again and placed it under her head. She scanned Mizu as had her. Admittedly he was rather dashing. So much so she'd forgotten what she was originally there to ask him. Fowler was the last thing on her mind. "What's with the spectacles?" she asked.

"My eyes are unnatural back home," he told her.

"Is that so?" Y/n asked rhetorically. Perhaps without thought for personal space, she leaned forward and took the yellow frames from the man's face. She was greeted with eyes that would put the sea herself to shame. "You needn't wear these anymore, your eyes are beautiful." The young sailor folded the glasses and handed them back to the blue eyed man.

A small smile graced Mizu's face at the first genuine compliment he'd heard in regard to his eyes. He looked over the beautiful yet foreign face of the woman in front of him. The journey to London was certainly something to look forward to now.

[peachesfather]

So here's the thing, I've been picturing Mizu (blue eye samurai) in a party, maybe an elegant party, wearing a suit staring at fem reader all night and reader noticing her. I just want Mizu to be seduced by reader with it ending in a subjective situation. If you could do that I would be grateful. Thanks!

- thanks for this request!!

UnMask Beauty ❦

Mizu x black fem! reader

Warning:+18, in a public bathroom, sloppy kisses, and pussy eating(reader receives) not proofread !!

Author note ౨ৎ

- please note this is a short blurb that will end with bang of porn filth, I quite tired and the asks that ppl be sending me are great n all but idk if I could write it in a one day, anyways thanks for enjoying my works.

While everyone else was dancing with their partners, I was sipping a glass of wine at a table by myself. Seeing everyone with their partners made me feel like I wasn't really enjoying my night at the moment. I had a dull expression on my face and continued tapping the wine glass.

Everyone gathered into a slow dance with their lovers when the slow jams began to play. I started to get really depressed and my eyes started to water, but then I saw this fine ass woman arrive at the ball party wearing a sharp black suit and perfectly fitting black pants. I couldn't contain my drool; I really wanted to dance with her, but I was too afraid to ask her.

I stared at her until she turned to face me and smiled, causing me to become weak at the knees. Her smile increased my desire for her.

She walked her way towards my table and i was hiding my face from the rise of embarrassment from being caught staring too hard, she looked at me with her blue eyes.

She approached my table, and as I covered my face to avoid looking out of place when I was caught staring too deeply, her blue eyes met mine.

"Would you like to dance? "It seems like you need it because you look so beautiful tonight," she said, gesturing for me to take her hand. I did so, and we held hands as the warmth of the dance floor filled the room.

she was searching for someone while she was holding my wrist while we were dancing i was such a nervous mess that i closed my eyes in the process, I smiled as I opened my eyes and she danced, she stopped what she was doing to embrace me. She tilts closer and plants a kiss on my lips, making me feel dizzy. I press her cheek and we swirl our tongues in our mouths, allowing her to prove her dominance, which makes me whimper beneath her.

She grins and reaches for my ass through my silk dress as I moan in her shoulder, praying that no one hears me. She then whispers, "I want to fuck you so badly right now," which causes my cheeks to slightly burn.

I boldly responded to the question, "Can you even handle all of me?" She pulled me into the bathroom stall by holding my hand, closed the door, and aggressively grabbed my wrist to make me turn around. She kissed my neck and then my lips, leaving me feeling wetter than before. I spread one of my legs while she holds me for her to have access to my clothed cunt.(my pum pum)

She grabs my neck to look into her lustful blue eyes while placing her fingers on my clothed pantie and pulling it to the side,She then dropped to her knees in the bathroom stall, wedged between my legs. She touched my clit and immediately began to lick my cunt at a rapid pace. i desperately moaned and grabbed a fist of her long hair while she kept face down onto my cunt.

She pauses in the middle and looks directly into my eyes while grinning through my clit. "missing my touch already, fucking brat" she said while pressing her thumb onto my cunt.

Although I can't deny that I wanted more of her, I was ashamed of how much of a mess I looked beneath her. She smacks one of my thighs, showing a dull expression that shows how unsatisfied she is right now with me.

I closed my eyes and whispered, "Touch me." She asked me what I wanted, rolling her eyes and grabbing my cheeks to look in her direction. "say that again with your property words" she said and i gulped and shyly guided her hand to my cunt.

“Please use your tongue on me, baby..” I murmured in a desperate tone, and that got her attention. She smirked and pressed her lips back on my cunt, while she looking up at me.

She stare up at me while latching onto my pussy, My cunt's drenching sounds fill the restroom stall as she pleases me, getting wetter with each lick.

She began slurring up my clit's fluids, causing you to squirm. You clenched around her tougue, causing your thighs to tremble with the close to orgasm."mmmm..fuck imma cum just like that.."

"i got you, please make that pussy come for me"She said as she gripped my thighs, pushed more against my heated cunt, and sucked me through my orgasm. I closed my eyes, came onto her mouth, and breathed slowly.

We exchanged a nervous glance and giggled at our current situation as I opened my eyes and stood up. I said in a mocking tone, putting my pantie back on my body, "Maybe you did know how to handle me, but whatever."

"This is the beginning, I can show you more what I am capable of other than my tongue," she smirked cockily and held out her hand with a card that has her name.

Imma think about that..Ms.Mizu??

She grabbed my wrist, kissed me sloppy but gently, and said, "You be calling that name everyday." She hurried out of the bathroom.