"I’m enjoying myself more than I expected. I don’t think I’ve ever spent time with this many queer people at once—only Agatha, really—and it’s strangely familiar. Not quite a sappy ‘coming home’ feeling… more a blanket sensation of safety. Because we already have this one thing in common."
The Gay Bar by @scone-lover
Carry on Countdown | Day Nine: Pride
This year I decided I wanted to honor the incredibly talented fic writers of this fandom, so I chose one fic per prompt to do an illustration for. I didn’t double up on authors so that I could do this for as many people as possible. I realized while planning this that there are way too many fics and authors that I love, and even after having picked 30 of what I consider some of my very favorites, I could have easily kept going. Please check the fics out if you haven’t, they all come highly recommended.
Secrets; Mizu x mixed!fem!Reader
A/n: Hiiii welcome to my first post! I'm pretty new to Tumblr and saw the Mizu posts then I grew inspired, I'm so obsessed with my wife that it's not funny ya'll. Anyway, Let me know if you want a part 2!
More Notes: Mizu's pronouns are he/him until the reader knows otherwise.
Incense filled his senses as the publicly proclaimed samurai said his prayers, his lips cracked and voice gravelly.
A man watched from outside the shrine, the cold making only his breath visible. Nothing else about him was, his all-black attire head-to-toe. The katana at his side was slightly unsheathed from the tsuka.
Then the target started moving, extinguishing the incense before getting up with ease. The samurai walked out of the shrine, and he met eyes with the man. Short, but that was all he picked up since he was covered with black fabrics, gloves, a mask, and a kasa. The only thing that should’ve been visible were his eyes, but he looked down, avoiding eye contact.
Until he wasn’t.
Was it the shadow of his kasa or was that his skin? The samurai didn’t have time to think before a dagger was thrown at his head. He swiftly dodged it not bothering to move much, through his yellowed glasses he furrowed his brow at the stranger, coming to the assumption that money was placed on him.
The samurai unsheathed his blade, the hunter mirroring him. A couple breaths were exchanged in the winter air before they clashed blades. The samurai stepped closer and tried to cut the man diagonally, but the hired sword blocked and grabbed his wrist side-stepping before using the momentum to throw him to the snowy ground, but the samurai had different plans, he used his height advantage to hook his arm around the back of the man’s neck causing them both to tumble.
The swords were discarded, punches were thrown, and strangely the air felt electrified. A lip was split and it stained the powder snow, yellowed glasses were knocked off and there it was. Blue, like the sky or a still lake. The man had no time to be surprised only slightly widening his eyes. The samurai spat in his face, taking advantage of his blindness, he rolled on top of him.
Then a punch, two punches, three before the man's mask fell, his kasa long forgotten. Curly hair spilled around him, his brown skin showing clearly in the daylight, his…long eyelashes outlining the shape of her eyes, and her full lips clenched shut and split, bleeding.
The samurai couldn’t believe his blue eyes, a woman? Pretending to be a man?
She was dazed from the force of the punches, likely to pass out any second.
“Who are you?”
But it was no use, she was out cold.
The samurai put her mask and kasa back on and carried her to the shrine, then continued on his way, conflicted.
She awoke with a start the next morning and looked around her confused then an annoyed huff.
If only she knew the blue-eyed samurais' secret, and how similar it was to hers.