#Mizu Writes

[mizuminon]

Dr. Vertitas Ratio x GN reader

Summary ; He never expected to fall in love with a simpleton such as yourself.

Extra notes : He's a green flag if you ignore the red flags. So yay my first fic here!!

He hated idiots, simpletons and mediocrity.

So what exactly did his heart see in you?

You were one of his students, he often bickered with you over small mistakes you made, every little mistake making him more and more frustrated with you. He knew you could do better, and hell do anything to see you do better.

When he offered you tutoring sessions, it was something you were reluctant to accept. After all, when exactly did he go out of his way to help anyone that hasn't requested him to do it first? With his ego, you were a bit skeptical about his reasoning.

Slowly but surely, you warmed up to his tutoring sessions. He wasn't exactly any kinder to you, but he was significantly more pleasant to be with.

You've noticed his behavior changing, usually whenever anyone made a mistake, he'd call them an idiot through his thick alabaster head. And yet, you've never seen him wear it around you. It made you feel more comfortable around him. Knowing you could see him face-to-face.

You've taken note of how handsome he was, even when thinking he looked picture perfect. He still wore it during class, but never with you. 

You were surprised when he first brought food to your tutoring sessions , you immediately questioned his reasoning.

"I just want to see you eating healthier food." He said, and you decided that maybe it was out of genuine care. You two sat and ate what he prepared, it felt good to eat a meal that had actual care and time put into it.

On rainy nights, he made excuses that he couldn't go home, because he walked to your apartment. It all sounded stupid, but you knew better than arguing with Dr. Veritas Ratio.

You two had to get creative, since you had one bed. And he refused to sleep on the couch, and after you offered to sleep on the couch, he still refused.

Which resulted in the both of you laying on your bed, it was cramped, you could feel his back against yours. It was weird. 

You felt him turn around, his warm breath down your neck. He pulled you a bit closer to him, your back against his chest. "Is this okay with you, dear? I don't want you having any lack of sleep, tomorrow's lesson will be hard." He mumbled, his voice a bit deeper due to the tiredness.

To be quite honest, your friends always said he had a thing for you. He was harsh towards everyone, but somehow his narcissistic heart managed to soften up for you, and only you. "Mhm, yeah. It's okay. More comfortable." You replied, trying not to let him know how long you've wanted this.

Wrapping his arm around your torso, he pulled you closer, your bodies tangled together. Neither of you minded, it felt right. 

You felt his breath close to your ear, "I love you, goodnight." He mumbled. You couldn't help but almost scream, out of excitement of course. "I love you too." Was the response you gave him.

One thing was on your mind, as you drifted into a deep sleep in his arms, 

How did he fall for a mere simpleton like you?

#dr ratio #dr ratio x reader #hsr dr ratio #hsr x reader #dr veritas ratio #dr veritas ratio x reader #veritas ratio x reader #mizu writes #hsr x y/n #hsr x gender neutral reader

[tuliptyper]

Oddly Specific Thomas Hewitt hcs;

TW mention for canon typical violence/cannibalism but also mentions of mental illness, suicide, bullying and general poor mental health. also nasty gross nail gunk

also these are long and wordy and not proofread sorry hehe

- neurodivergent, probably ADHD but it manifests in a way that he constantly second guesses his diagnosis bc people say he doesnt 'act like it' (projection? huh? idk her)

- dry asf hands because he cleans them a lot because he doesnt like feeling dirty but doesnt have much time to wash his face/shower. he hates his nails bc he doesnt know how to get the gunk out and accidentally stabbed his nail bed tryna clean them with a tooth pick

- loves his mama but he wishes she understood him better. growing up mute and being bullied by pretty much everyone, hes grown so fragile without even knowing it. sometimes he wishes he could peer into his mothers mind and tell her how he truly feels.

- i think he has some sort of relationship with self punishment. not really sh in the typical sense but he feels he deserves to be overworked to the point of sickness, he doesnt like to rest or treat himself. he gets tense when things are peaceful for too long and he feels the need to bully himself relentlessly. its awful :(

- living in an environment where hes essentially the breadwinner, bodyguard AND punching bag with no refuge to run to is incredibly hard. if it weren't for the guilt and his dedication to his family, he..well...i think you can guess the rest. (someone go get this guy some prozac)

- if he was introduced to them, hed love fairy tales. even though he was pulled from school and had very litle encouragement to persue his hobbies aside from sewing, hes a curious man who enjoys learning. fairy tales give him insight into past culture (and they also satiate his desire for romance. sigh ❤❤) ((call him your prince, he would actually get light headed from all the butterflies))

- should he ever get a taste of freedom, be it a particularly good experience with some strangers or seeing some pretty scenery on the road, he will chase that high Forever. he craves normalcy in its most wholesome form; saying hello to coworkers, picking up groceries, maybe taking his dog out for a walk and getting take out when hes tired. Hoyt knows this somewhat and makes sure tommy doesnt persue that desire with some nasty words and manipulation. ((literally grab his hand, run away into town and dont come back. discreetly send a check to mama with a small house on her name a few blocks down and leave the other old coots to rot))

- i gotta agree with the metalhead hc, he would love stupid ass nu-metal! dad metal, if you will. 2000s era heavy rock and anything with some angry lyrics. hates headbanging though, simply bc he loses his balance more than hed like to admit and also knots are fucking annoying to comb out with his curly hair. BUT ALSO his guilty pleasure music would be really sweet piano music or film soundtracks,,,its his inner romantic

- Thomas has like...hot dad personality..HEAR ME OUT omfg he finds puns funny, twirls his keys like a DAD and DIYs everything. he makes a lot of furniture, clothes and miscellaneous trinkets in his spare time. he needs an etsy shop ASAP

- but also hes such cute goth boyfriend material omg, he'd let you play with his hair, even braid or dye a strand if youre lucky! matching outfits kill him because he loves being yours. your hot goth husband. hell, he'll wear the bedazzled 'His/Hers' t shirt you got from the flea market, at least it fits him!

- dont send him to the gym, hes either the reason membership sales skyrocket or skydive ( they either see him and think 'i want to be him' or 'ill never be him' LMAO). unintentionally, hes a menace at the gym bc hes just generally so strong from all the physical labor back at the farm house

- i think he'd go vegetarian aside from those ready to eat rotisserie chickens you get from the supermarket (listen...i smash a whole chicken with a side of rice and corn like nobody's fuckin business)

#girl help idk what this is #im just..i love him so much #thomas hewitt x reader #slasher x reader #thomas hewitt #tcm the beginning #thomas hewitt x y/n #leatherface x reader #mizu writes

[mizuirokandeya]

here is the secret we all know

This was part of a larger project that by now has evolved and is no longer what it started out as. So instead of letting this rot in my files I thought I'd post it. (This is also unbetaed and I posted it to AO3 during lunch break so no gurantee that I caught every mistake)

1400~ words | Read on AO3

Set during 5x03.

Dean is still laughing.

It comes back in fits and bursts while the Impala rumbles along the street beneath them. The street lights flicker over his face in a way that makes the slight movement of his body cut off and bouncy.

Castiel can’t take his eyes off him. Any part, really.

He’s vibrant and glowing in a way he hasn’t been in- Castiel would say for a while. But then he also thinks Dean wasn’t wrong in saying he hasn’t laughed like this in some time. Castiel certainly was never around to witness it before. It is a good thing to witness.

The engine noise tapers off, turns into a quiet thrum and Castiel takes note of his vessel’s urge to blink at the change. He doesn’t. But it’s there and prominent. He can’t bring himself to lose sight of Dean right now. The rest of his self reaches out still, takes note that they are parked off on the shoulder of a dark and empty street, and takes note that they are alone, no one around for miles. Dean’s still grinning when he turns the car off completely.

“You know,” Dean starts, hands sliding along the curves of the steering wheel with careful movements, there’s a flutter of nerves in it. “I think I made you a promise.”

“You did.” Castiel doesn’t need the reminder to know what Dean is talking about. Not when it’s the sole reason the whole space surrounding them is lit up by Dean’s smile, not when it’s got Castiel filled with the need to leave his vessel’s skin for how it’s itching with something he doesn’t know how or where to place. He’s got no idea why it is relevant though, and finds that he’s had enough of other people tonight. He wonders if Dean will propose a different place to fulfill his promise. He wonders if Dean would be offended if Castiel turned his idea down.

Dean looks over, meets his eyes and just like that there’s none of the laughter from before, his face smooth but serious and when he licks his lips, Castiel feels not just his vessel but every part of him follow it without his active assistance. Sometimes these things happen. He’s gotten used to the instinctive behaviors of humans that even he as an angel can’t always anticipate or subdue. Vessel’s are a fickle thing. He’s never occupied one this long.

The seconds tick by and it’s a curious thing to watch Dean become more and more fidgety, become fluttery with the tap of his fingers against the steering wheel. Patience is not high on the list of attributes he ascribes to Dean and it is running through his fingers like water. Castiel can’t say the same about himself. He spent millennia watching life create and destroy itself without wanting to move.

He can wait for Dean.

“Come here,” Dean finally says, his hand reaching out and out and out until his fingers catch the edge of the fabric draping around Castiel and Dean’s mind twists around the thought, the feeling of closeness until it shapes into a simple prayer. He tugs, pulls wordlessly.

Castiel goes easily. Follows both his calls without any resistance. He finds he does that often. Move where Dean wants him with an ease he doesn’t think too much about. It’s just how it is. It’s just how Dean is to him and Castiel doesn’t question it just moves himself across the front seat of the Impala until he’s close enough to be in what he knows Dean considers his personal space. He said as much to him. Multiple times. Explained why it wasn’t appropriate, only to stand too close himself shortly after. Castiel doesn’t think Dean will say anything this time.

But it is in itself funny.

How he will say one thing and do another and while Castiel finds he wants to make a remark about it, his tongue is twisted up and he can’t find his voice in the scant space between them. It’s an odd sensation but not unpleasant. Not when Dean continues to look at him. Not when his eyes flicker down before meeting his own again.

It is unexpected when Dean’s hand slips off the trench coat, finds his face instead, careful and big and Castiel feels that flutter of his vessel again and oh. Dean’s lips are pressing against his, against his vessel’s. All Castiel can think is warmth.

Dean pulls back, lips slightly parted but doesn’t go far and his eyes are so bright when he blinks them open.

“You gotta close your eyes, man,” he mumbles, breath ghosting over Castiel’s own and making him feel like he will shiver out of his skin. “Otherwise it’s just creepy.”

Castiel’s vessel reacts before he can consciously make the decision. Muscle memory, he assumes, and in the same breath wonders if that is even possible when he is the one controlling them. He hears then feels Dean chuckle.

“There you go,” he says and then their lips are pressed together again, soft and malleable. Moving. Castiel doesn’t quite know what exactly is expected here but his vessel seems to be more attuned to Dean, follows willingly. Castiel lets it and lets Dean. And Dean tilts his head, nudges a little further into his space.

Oh.

Castiel suddenly is all too aware of how it’s not just his vessel that’s alight with the sensation of this. The softness of the kiss twists its way into every curl of his grace, twines its way around him in every plane and fills him with a soft warmth that competes with the warmth he can feel emanating from Dean. Castiel pushes towards it, feels overcome with the sensation of it, the need for it.

Hands, Dean’s hands, on his vessel’s shoulders make him pause in his pursuit of Dean’s lips. He opens his eyes, catches sight of the flush on Dean’s cheek, the wideness of his eyes. He thinks, I did that, and tries not to think back to when he watched Anna do this to Dean and it sparked something unfamiliar yet deeply unpleasant within him.

“Slow down, cowboy.” Dean’s licking his lips again — Cas eyes, all of him, follows — but his hands stay where they are, thumb absentmindedly brushing along fabric, and Castiel would hover here for however long it would take before Dean would tire and drop his hands, would stay here and wait until the sun came up if it meant he’d be allowed to lean in again. But Dean’s eyes flicker away and then he’s grinning, laughing even, patting his shoulder absentmindedly. “Told you, I wouldn’t let you die a virgin. Well a complete one, anyway.”

There’s embarrassment — shame almost — clouding his features now and for the third time that night, Castiel thinks, oh. Except this time his vessel feels heavy and tight, constricting him into a too small space. It comes with none of the wonderment from before but instead the finality of this moment being done. He pulls back without Dean having to push. Goes where Dean wants him without having to say it. And it takes him a second to settle back on his side of the front seat, in his vessel as well. He twists the fabric of the trench coat out from underneath himself and focuses on smoothing it out along his legs. To the windshield he says, “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it,” Dean says and it’s just words but they make Castiel feel scraped raw.

‘Why not?’ he wants to say. Why is this something he cannot talk about?

But this is Dean and Castiel knows enough about him to know that Dean wouldn’t appreciate him asking out loud. Wouldn’t appreciate having to explain this, when he clearly isn’t comfortable with it. So Castiel tucks the thought away. Right next to the leftover warmth his grace is still latched onto, curling around it like it needs to be kept safe. It’s a stark contrast but Castiel is sure it will do him better that he looks at the whole picture if his conscience will ever return to this moment. He doesn’t think he wants it to. He’s quite certain it will anyway.

Dean starts the car again, rattles the silence of the night and Castiel with it.

He fights the urge to stretch his wings and disappear.

Instead he watches the lights pass by as they continue down the road, heading towards even more uncertainty.

#destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel fic #spn fic #spn 5x03 #mizu writes #supernatural fic #deancaskiss #i feel awkward using tracked tags of actual people but why the hell not 🤷‍♀️ #v: boys like you

[mizuthe-cat]

Dumb Florida Story

The wind blew around the car; it wasn’t dark though. It was quite sunny actually. The outside was hot, the inside of the car was air conditioned and was cool. 

Florida was always hot in the summer. That’s where you’re going. From Wisconsin to Florida. Quite the difference in temperature.

You ride down the road. Florida would be soon, but not soon enough.

The governor was insistent on banning books and deciding what was free speech and what wasn’t. 1984, books on seahorses; everything that went against his own views.

You were going to free them: the people yelling at his deaf ears. 

You made it through Illinois first and are almost through Georgia now.

You will find the Excaligator— the gator with a knife in its head— and become the new leader of Florida; you will face the Florida men, crazy individuals who commit crimes of strange headlines; and then you’ll face the Florida government, the governor himself.

It will not be easy, but for a native Floridian you should be able to do it. Born in Florida, raised in Wisconsin. You’re able to withstand the cold but still withstand the heat. 

You enter Florida, the sunshine state. Tropical trees, oranges, and geckos. Lots of geckos. Geckos cover everything. If you think you have no geckos, you are lying.

You open up Google Maps on your phone. You swipe out look at the picture of the Excaligator one more time. It’s in a lake. Which lake? A lake in Deltona, Florida. It was there. That lake. Maybe you could use a gecko to lure it out.

You head towards Deltona. You’ll need to check all the lakes and ponds; swimming pools too. No water source would be left unchecked. You would find the gator, and you would become the new leader of Florida. 

You enter Deltona. It was time for lake water hunting. You drive around checking water sources. No source was too small, even puddles were suspicious. Most water sources didn’t have much. 

You check one more water source. There’s a knife sticking out of the water. It’s connected to a gator head.

You found the gator. The Excaligator.

You jump out of your car and stare at it. Maybe throw rocks at it? You needed to get it and it was at home in the water. 

You pick up a rock and throw it at the gator. It looks annoyed. Maybe throw another rock?

You pick up a second rock and throw it at the gator. It looks upset now.

It still hasn’t come over. You know you shouldn’t go in the water. It’d grab your legs and you’d be on the headlines of a news story. You don’t want to be the fool who died to a gator with a knife in its head.

You keep throwing rocks at the gator until it draws closer and eventually runs at you.

You zig out of the way and do one zag. The gator is behind you now. You turn and jump on it. It can’t bend its head back.

You grasp the knife and pull, wiggling it slightly. It gives and you pull it out.

You have gained one knife from the gator. The gator is still alive, but you’re still on it. It doesn’t want you there. You don’t care about the feelings of a gator. 

How were you supposed to get off? You didn’t think this far. You were now on top of an angry gator.

You grasp your new gator knife covered in red gator juice. You could either use it now or not.

You jump off the gator and quickly make it back to your car before it could get you.

You drive fast. You are the new leader of Florida. You successfully pulled the knife from the gator. You are a true Floridian, crazy and dangerous.

You drive to the capital building in Tallahassee. The governor was there. You needed to kick him out. You were the new leader of Florida. 

You park your car outside and pocket your knife. The governor was soon. You’ll see him soon. Be prepared.

You head into the building and sneak around. A Florida man taps on your shoulder.

“Whatcha doin ‘ere bud?” he asked.

You didn't respond and kept looking around. 

The man wasn’t happy with that. “Bud. Whatcha doin ‘ere?”

You turn and narrow your gaze. You push him over and kick him in the stomach.

He yells. You run off. No point in being caught. You needed to expel the government from its seat.

You make your way towards the governor’s room. 

He turns to face you. “What’re you doing?”

You run at him. Pushing him into the glass of his window. The window cracks but doesn’t fracture.

You pull out your knife. You announce you’re the new leader of Florida and plunge it into the glass.

It shatters.

You push the governor out the window.

He falls. He looks okay until a piano falls on him. Where did that come from? You don’t have time to question it.

You sit down in his chair. You run Florida now.

#writing #Mizu writes #I can't believe I wrote this for school #have some Florida government overthrowing #second person pov #Excalligator

[libbyfandom]

Mizu Touch-Starved Head-canons

The way this women is probably so touch starved yet emotionally constipated. She just wants to touch you, but I think she’d rather get into another fight with an army than admit that.

You feel your braid shifting on your collarbone and you startle, your face jerking down as you instinctively take a half step back. You see familiar, slim fingers rubbing the end tail between fingers. Your eyes trail up the arm to see Mizu’s gaze on where she’s holding your hair. Blue eyes meet yours over the rim of her glasses. Her expression is unreadable, face blank. She turns and continues down the path, unaware of how your heart is beating faster at how she just… helped herself to touching you more intimately.

Mizu will grab your wrist to lead you through crowded streets filled with merchants and locals so you don’t get lost. Over time and instances her grip ends up lower and lower until she’s leading you around with your hand in hers. You ask why she doesn’t do this to Ringo, he’s the one more likely to run off. She tells you she’ll just listen for the bell, and dryly asks if you’re trying to get one too.

She walks so close her shoulder constantly brushes up against yours. You try to sidestep to widen the gap to prevent accidentally stepping on her foot. She always sways closer immediately, fast enough you start to realize it’s on purpose.

Brushing of shoulders turns into brushing of hands, and hers twitch each time like they do when they’re ready to rip her sword out and cut down her enemies. But they twitch closer to your fingers than to the sheath.

Brushing also turns into leaning. In the inns, next to the campfire, when she’s stitching herself up. Her weight leans into you and you in turn lean back to keep her upright. Her eyes flick toward you, glancing out of the corner, before going back to her needle.

When guards come through the inns looking for the onryo rumored to have swept into town, her head tilts down, using her kasa to conceal her face. She definitely did not need to also tilt it to the side to the point that you can feel her warm breath tickle your neck. Goosebumps rise on your skin, hand spasming at the sensation. Your opposite hand comes up to rub at the raised skin, and you hear a huff of amusement. Cool fingertips press against your neck, the lightest touch, before her hand is back at her side. Only Ringo catches her fist clenching, and then forcibly unclench before you can see.

#I am not used to making my writings public but the Mizu thirst is strong #And people are asking for more content of her x reader so #didanyoneordertouchstarvedMizuwithasideoflonging #blueeyesamurai #blue eye samurai x reader #mizu x reader #mizu blue eye samurai #When I say I'm new to tumblr i mean new new

[hel1anthus-annuus]

Love this bitch for having multiple gender filters on. He’s transmasc, he’s a woman who’s a man, she’s nothing at all

#i love the idea of writing mizu as effectively nonbinary because of the constant isolation and alienation she feels #identifying with womanhood in a sort of secondary manner— a samurai first and a woman second #explores womanhood through mizu lol #no matter what. shes trans in some way #though i hesitate applying that label #if only because i dont think mizu would identify as trans in any instance; i’m sure mizu thinks he just IS #stuck between womanhood (something she doesn’t really care about) and manhood (a mask for her to put on to fulfill his goals) #and yet transmasc interpretations of mizu UTTERLY FASCINATE ME #AUGH! woman who is a man (this is both a transmasc and nonbinary filter) #thinking back to mizu binding. i wonder how he felt #that scene can have so many gender filters #pain— applicable to both a woman binding to avoid misogyny and a trans man binding to avoid misogyny and dysphoria #i think no matter how you see mizu; he’s dysphoric in that scene #i could go on #blue eye samurai

[icantbeseenlikethisonmymain]

Me to my brain: oH my FUCKING god I KNOW she's hot please for the love of all that is holy LET ME LIVE

my brain: LOOK AT HER SMIRK. LOOK AT IT. LOOK AT IT FUCKING LOOK YOURE NOT LOOKIN YOU BITCH--

#what does my brain fucking want?? #THE BRAINROT HAS TO END AT SOME POINT RIGHT #I've got a fucking paper to write and yet all I can come up with are s2 theories and shitty hcs #blue eye samurai #mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu brainrot #mizu bes #mizu come home the kids miss you #bes #blueeyesamurai

[pyromanicfool]

The way Mizu has gone into the ocean since childhood and just let it hold her, succumbing to whatever it may do, cleansing her soul and attempting to feel something other than anger or the cruelty of other humans hits me on a whole nother level. She IS water. Calm one second, and able to kill in the next. Impossible to hold onto. Her violence one moment, overtaken by sadness and grief the next. The girl simply flows. Unstoppable, like a typhoon.

#Mizu #mizu blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai #hes just like me fr #this was written after a sleepless night of writing when i want to draw but cant draw until I finish writing.

[kaladinkholins]

We all already know Mizu and Akemi are narrative foils. But you know what? Lemme just say it, here's what I think:

Taigen and Mikio are foils.

Not necessarily to each other as individuals in the way that Mizu and Akemi juxtapose each other, but mostly in the contrast between their relationships with Mizu.

I've covered specific parallels between Taigen and Mikio in other posts I wrote; but as the number of parallels I'm noticing between them keeps piling up, I'm compelled to just compile them all in one post. So! This is, thus, the post in question.

First of all, let's look at their similarities.

1. Their status in society is the same. They are both samurai who lost their honour and have dreams of reclaiming it.

2. They are also both diligent as they strive to achieve this goal, they both care deeply about their work, but here as they begin to contrast, as the work in question and way they go about their goals is different:

For Mikio, his work is in taming and rearing horses; in order to prove himself, he must tame Kai—a willful and strong horse—and present it to his lord. For Taigen, his work is in sword fighting and martial arts; in order to prove himself, he must kill Mizu—a willful and strong swordsman—and present her dead body to his lord.

In the parallel above, not only are Taigen and Mikio contrasting each other, but Mizu and Kai are placed in comparison as well. And of course, Kai is Mizu's horse, and represents her. Which is why, when later, Mikio sells Kai off, it represents the way he is tossing Mizu (and their relationship) aside.

From there, the rest of the details of their character begin to contrast and juxtapose each other more clearly. So let's look at those differences, shall we?

Their backstory:

Mikio was a great samurai who was banished. A somebody to a nobody. Taigen was a fisherman’s son who rose to the top. A nobody to a somebody.

2. The first time we meet them on-screen:

Mikio is an adult. An older man. Mizu's superior in age. He is Mizu's to-be husband. A love interest. Taigen is a child. A young boy. Mizu's peer in age. He is Mizu's bully. An antagonist.

3. Their maturity and growth:

Mikio is mature, but stuck in his ways. Taigen is immature, but capable of changing and learning.

4. Their overall attitude:

Mikio is generally relaxed, easy-going and unfussy. Taigen is uptight, irritable and severe.

5. How they talk to and conduct themselves around Mizu:

Mikio is aloof, soft-spoken, and serious. Taigen is obnoxious, brash, and sarcastic. Mikio is quiet, speaking only when spoken to, even when Mizu turns to smile at him and shows openness to be near him. Taigen is loud, talking while others are silent, even when Mizu turns from him and shows no interest in conversing with him.

Mikio doesn't show much of who he is to Mizu throughout their marriage, despite their growing affection. Taigen openly shares his traumas and life story to Mizu during their brief alliance, despite their mutual antagonism.

6. Their external vs internal selves:

Mikio is calm, gentle, and considerate on the outside. Taigen is hot-headed, rude, and selfish on the outside. Mikio is cowardly and deceitful on the inside. Taigen is brave and loyal to a fault on the inside. Mikio tells Mizu that he wants to know and see all of her. But he scorns and betrays her, the woman he loves. Taigen tells Mizu that he wants to duel and kill him. But he endures torture to not betray him, the man he hates.

9. Their hair, a symbol of their honour:

Mikio's topknot is untied by Mizu during their spar. This humiliation occurs in private, the two of them alone in a rural location where no one can see them. Taigen's topknot is cut off by Mizu during their duel. This humiliation occurs in public, the two of them being watched by many others in the Shindo Dojo.

10. Their power dynamic with Mizu:

Mikio believes he is Mizu's mentor. He teaches her to throw knives, how to ride and care for horses, and about the tactical benefits of using a naginata. Taigen believes he is Mizu's equal. He views Mizu as a samurai like himself who received all the same teachings he did, and who possesses the same values.

11. Their perceptions of Mizu:

Mikio sees Mizu's feminine side first. He sees her as sweet and gentle, but also clumsy and incompetent. Taigen sees Mizu's masculine side first. He sees her as terrifying and deadly, but also strong and skilled.

12. The way they approach sparring with Mizu:

Mikio only spars with Mizu once. As the fight progresses and she is beating him, he tries to put a stop to it. When she teases/provokes him, he starts taking the fight personally and seriously, finding no enjoyment in it. Taigen spars and brawls with Mizu all the time. No matter how many times Mizu beats him, he doesn't back down. When Mizu challenges him with a chopstick, he is eager to compete with her and gladly rises up to the challenge.

Mikio and Mizu's one and only spar is a friendly match; Mizu is smiling and having fun while he grows increasingly frustrated. Taigen and Mizu's last-seen spar is a playful wrestling match; both him and Mizu are having fun and laughing.

Mikio cannot deal with Mizu being better than him, so he scorns her and walks off, avoiding her thereafter. When Taigen cannot deal with Mizu being better than him, he follows her to observe her moves and continues training in hopes to eventually beat her. After being bested by Mizu once, Mikio leaves her and sells the horse he'd previously gifted to her. After many times losing to Mizu and fighting alongside her, Taigen commends her and admits she is better than him.

13. When Mizu pins them down in a friendly spar:

Mikio sees Mizu's whole face objectively. Taigen stares at Mizu's mouth and eyes.

Mikio gets angry when she kisses him, throwing her off of him and snapping at her, calling her a monster. Taigen gets aroused, apologising, so she pulls herself off of him.

14. Mizu's blue meteorite sword is a reflection of her soul. She believes most are undeserving to face it, let alone hold it. And on that note:

Mikio is the first person (chronologically) that Mizu fights against using her sword. Taigen is the first person (we see on-screen) that Mizu fights against with her sword. Mikio is the first person (chronologically) to ever hold her sword, as she passes it to him, letting him wield it. Taigen is the first person (we see on-screen) to ever hold her sword, as she passes out, and he picks it up and carries it for her.

15. Then, last but not least, in Fowler's fortress, when she is drugged and in pain, she hears Ringo's voice in the dungeon. She then follows it to an open cell:

Mizu first sees Mikio as a hallucination, the sight of him haunting her and causing her to lose her grip on reality. Her eyes glow a surreal blue to represent this. Her Mama appears then and says Mizu's name accusingly.

Mizu then sees Taigen, but he is real, the sight of him a relief and grounding her back to reality. Her eyes return to their normal blue colour to represent this. Taigen looks at Mizu weakly and says her name softly.

Then, later, when facing Fowler, her revenge awaiting her, she instead chooses to follow her conscience (represented by Ringo's voice in her mind), putting aside her vengeance for a time, in order to save Taigen.

So that's basically all the ones I've noticed so far, but even then, I feel there's already so much that forms a contrast between these two.

What makes it especially incredible about these juxtapositions is that Mikio was Mizu's husband, the man she had fallen in love with, the one person she had ever been intimate with, the man who made her begin to accept herself, to put down her desire for vengeance and instead live a life of peace and happiness.

So for Taigen to have so many parallels with him... Do you see what I'm saying here!

Not to mention that Mizu clearly already has some burgeoning attraction to him, as indicated by how she thinks of him when asked about her desires. And Taigen clearly has shown interest as well (see: him getting a boner after their spar, him holding her hand and telling her, "We're not done yet.").

And on the topic of speculating future possibilities of this relationship, this post by @stromblessed has pointed out yet another parallel between Taigen and Mikio:

Mizu promises Taigen to meet him for their duel in autumn. Mizu fell in love with Mikio and duelled him during autumn.

With all that said, I do believe Mizu and Taigen's relationship is definitely hurtling towards something. But whether they will actually end up together in a sustainable relationship and have a happily ever after? Well, that is a whole other story; we'll just have to wait and see.

#blue eye samurai #mizu x taigen #taigen x mizu #taimizu #taigen blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai meta #hope yall enjoy my thesis on virgin mikio vs chad taigen #this was written last night when i shouldve been writing the new chapter for my taimizu fic that i promised i would work on....whoopsies... #i will get to it eventually but i just have to get a firmer grip on characterisation before i can delve further into it yk #on that note. i kiiinda regret posting the fic on a whim! #my last longfic was written better because i had the whole thing complete and could go back and edit/polish/revise before posting #so it came out much more coherent and consistent ykwim? #this fic might suffer a bit for this reason 🤒 #but its fine i have to remind myself im just doing it for funsies #anyway here have another long ass meta post from yours truly #meta dissertations.pdf #shut up haydar #fandom.rtf

[missviviii]

a/n: shsusbsihsw i can’t— this idea has been plaguing my mind 😭

.

“A Duel For Your Hand.”

warning(s): swearing

summary: mizu knew you ever since she was a child. you two were friends, and she grew feelings for you. one day, you had to move. until one day, you saw her again, and complained to her about how your father was marrying you off to some noble.

mizu x fem!childhood crush!reader

——————————————————————————

Long ago, when you were just a young lady, you befriended a child just your age. An outcast, but you still talked to her. Your father was a swordsman, and one that has received a blade from Master Eiji. Your father respected Eiji, often times still visiting the old man for memories and to train with him.

You were never really close to your father, but you were close to Eiji. Often times, when your father was away for business, you’d be staying with Eiji and helping alongside him here and there.

One day, you ran all the way to Master Eiji’s place to show him something cool that your father had given you. You opened the door, only to find another child around your age, a little bit shorter, holding large iron tongs while Eiji was doing his thing.

“Master Eiji, guess what my papa got me!—“ You looked over at the other child, who was staring at you very closely and almost surprised. What’s a pretty, young lady like you doing here? You were dressed nice and seemed to be far too delicate to be around sharp blades.

Eiji held up his finger, then motioned for the child to hand him the tongs. “I see you have ran all the way from your home to show me…let me guess, another hair pin?” You eagerly nodded, running over to his side and squealing about the gift your father had given you after he had returned home from whatever business he had.

“So..who are you?” You curiously asked as you turned around to face the child, who was still looking at you in awe. You noticed her blue eyes, which seemed to be so clear and mesmerizing. They were like the color of the water—so blue and pretty.. Noticing that she was staring, she cleared her throat.

“M-Mizu. Uh, I’m just staying here..” Mizu said as she scratched the back of her neck. Oh god, was she falling for you already? Well, why wouldn’t anyone—you’re so pretty and you look like an angel in her eyes.

Days turned into months. Then months turned into years. Each time that you could go down to Master Eiji’s place, you’d always be a ball of sunshine with something to talk about. Whether if it’s some hair pin your father gave to you, or a new skill you learned, you’d always talk about it to Mizu. That was until you had to move away.

Here you are, mumbling and grumbling in the cold weather while stomping your feet in the snow. Now you were a grown woman, and one that was forced to learn all the arts of being a ‘perfect wife’. You threw the charms in your hair and the hairpins to the ground, frustrated that your father had set you up with a dumb, old nobleman. You had to excuse yourself from the room and immediately ran outside to attempt to calm yourself.

“Damn, angry much?” A voice spoke out from behind you. You turned around, your first instinct was to throw one of your hairpins at the person. But they caught it with two fingers, just inches away from their eyes behind those tinted glasses. The person smirked, pulling down the tinted glasses to reveal their blue eyes. “My god, is this the treatment I get when I finally find you again?”

That voice. It was Mizu! Absolutely delighted, you immediately gasped and ran over to her, immediately tackling her into the snow while hugging her tightly. She chuckled, hand on your back while you wrapped your arms around her waist while wailing. “I missed you so much! Oh my god, you can’t believe the bullshit my father is putting me through!” Mizu only smiled, sitting up against a tree while you sat in front of her, complaining and wailing about how your father’s trying to marry you off to some man! That part made her a tad bit pissed off. A beautiful woman like yourself being married off to someone certainly not worth your time? Fuck no. Is she going to duel this guy to perhaps steal you away instead? Yep.

“Seems like you want out of this, right?” She said after you finally stopped complaining, now just curled up beside her and leaning against her arm. You nodded immediately. You now just noticed she has grown. You used to be taller, but now she’s the taller one! And my god are her hands—wait, are you growing feelings again? “I want to see this man. I’m going to kill him, you’re not marrying some snobby asshole today.”

Much to your annoyance, Mizu had fought her way through your guards and marched on into the estate with ease. You followed after her, trying to get the guards to stand down but they won’t and Mizu ends up knocking a few of them off. More mess for the cleaners to deal with. Until she kicks down the door to the room your father and that suitor was in. “My god, this is the guy? You couldn’t even find a suitable man for your daughter?” Mizu groaned, rubbing her temples in annoyance before she pointed her blade at the guy. “I want to duel you. For her hand, of course. Don’t worry, your loss will be swift and it won’t hurt all that much considering how you have no real talent.”

“You? Some beggar boy against me? Princess, do you have any idea how stupid you are?!” The man yelled, standing up and kicking over the table. Your father glared at you, also yelling at you how unladylike it is so choose white trash over a real man.

Ah, that ticked Mizu off, and you already had a feeling this guy was about to get his ass whooped.

Nothing better than to sit on a rock in your backyard, watching in amusement how your drunk, clearly reeking of alcohol and a snobbish piece of trash of a suitor was holding a sword against Mizu. Mizu stood there, circling the man carefully while her blade was pointed right at him, waiting for him to strike.

One, two, three You counted down, and Mizu strikes just as you hit three. You watched very intently, leaning forward as Mizu absolutely decimated that poor man. “Beat his ass!” You loudly yelled to cheer on Mizu, in which you received a slap on the back of your head by your father, who wasn’t at all happy. Mizu glanced over at you and smirked, determined to win your hand in marriage.

“Got you,” Mizu casually said as she swung her leg out and tripped the man, making him fall face first into the snow while the tip of her blade rests right beside his head. He groaned in pain as his body collided into the snow and grunted, yelling about how Mizu was no man, but a monster from hell.

“You did it! I mean, of course you did!” You loudly shouted as you ran over to her side, pulling her into a big hug while she wrapped one arm around your waist. You looked up at her, finding a small smile on her lips before she kissed your forehead.

“You’re mine now, Princess.”

——————————————————————————

a/n: sishwjsibesjhsbs

#writing fanfic #fanfiction #fanfic #mizu x reader #mizu blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai #fandom #send me asks #i finished it #fun idea #writing for fun #writing #x reader #finally done with this thought!!

[blkbabygurl]

Dear fanfic writers for Blue Eye Samurai. I have a beautiful dream. YakuzaBoss!Mizu

#it’s consuming my thoughts and I don’t have good enough writing skills #mizu x reader #blue eye samurai #mizu blue eye samurai #bes mizu #mizu x you #blue eye samurai x reader #mizu #wlw #bes

[sokkadora]

something there — mizu x fem!spider-woman!reader

summary: landing in a new place, and time, leads to new experiences and friends… and a hot samurai?

a/n: mizu having a thing for competence and her s/o’s being capable of handling themselves babygirl i got that you want me!!!

wc: 1.6k

warning(s): injuries, mentions of gunshot wound, passing out from blood loss yippee!!!

ALSO REMINDER THAT MY REQUESTS ARE OPEN SO FEEL FREE TO ASK!! <3

from the river to the sea, palestine will be free 🇵🇸

︿︿︿︿︿︿ ✎ᝰ . . . .

Your eyes shot open, the sudden cold chill of the snow beneath you shocked you into a sitting position. You ripped off your mask and panted, taking in your new surroundings.

You were still in your suit, which explained why you were so cold, but you were also in the middle of a dark forest. The snow seemed to cool the burning from the gunshot wound in your shoulder and the cut across your thigh, but it didn’t distract you from your entirely new surroundings.

The last thing you remember was being in New York, fighting some gang members who had stolen an artifact from the Sanctum Sanctorum… you’d taken a gunshot to the shoulder, which… ow. But anyway, you must’ve been thrown out of New York into… wherever you were now.

Shivering, you shakily got to your feet and steadied yourself against a tree. You needed to find warmer clothes, fast. You pulled the hood from your suit over your head and your mask back on for the sake of preserving body heat.

You attempted to be stealthily while stepping through the forest, not knowing what wild animals or people could in the darkness lingering beyond your eyes grasp.

After about 5 minutes of walking, you figured it would be better to scale up a tree to get some lay of the land. Maybe a city’s lights nearby to give you an idea of how far you hade to go until you reached some sign of civilization.

Placing your hand onto your eye level with the tree, you easily pulled yourself up and began scaling the tree. It took a minute to maneuver through all the branches with your injuries but upon reaching the top, you noticed a small clearing in the trees that was dimly lit, and you let out a sigh of relief.

After getting down, you corrected your course and started trekking towards your new destination. It took longer than expected because your injuries were slowing you down, but you webbed them up and continued over.

These people were sure to help you, you’re a well known super-hero. Spider-Woman, and if you were still around the vicinity of New York you should be alright…

Right?

It took until daybreak to reach your destination, you figured it would, but that didn’t make you pleased with how long you took.

Your hands were shaking profusely from the cold, and you were beginning to wish that you let Peter put the heater into your suit for days like this.

You heard rustling from a few yards ahead and scaled up the tree closest to you, your head spinning from the blood loss. You grunted softly, beginning to leap from branch to branch to get closer to the noise.

Finally, you made it a few trees away from the source, and were surprised to see a man dressed in… what looked like a chef uniform. You squinted behind your mask, watching as he cut off plants with the knife strapped to his wrist, since he didn’t have any hands.

You were about to get down yourself and approach him, but a nap just sounded… so… nice…

Ringo jumped at the sudden loud thud behind him, his humming being interrupted by a sudden gasp as he whipped around. He gulped nervously before rushing behind a tree, and peeking out from it.

He saw a figure laying motionless in the snow, that seemed to be non threatening, but the attire they donned was bizarre. Skin tight, covered their whole body… what were they?

Ringo cautiously held his knife out while stepping out from behind the tree and making his way to the body.

Were they already dead?

He gulped as he kneeled in front of the person, now clearly seeing that they’re a woman, nudging them with the arm not armed with a knife. After waiting a few more moments to confirm they were really passed out, he bit down on the dull side of his knife and placed it into his pack. He noticed the wound on their shoulder and thigh, along with smaller cuts through the clothing along the arms and torso. He carefully picked the limp body up, and began to carry them back to camp.

He knew Mizu wasn’t going to be thrilled with this new person joining, neither would Taigen, but they’d have to deal with it. He wasn’t going to leave a random woman out in the woods to die.

Upon arriving to camp, he noticed Taigen on the other side of the abandoned shrine writing something down on a piece of paper. Ringo slipped into the house from the far side to carry the body to the room Mizu was resting in.

He lowered the woman onto his futon, pulling the blanket up to just below her chin. He pulled off your mask successfully after a few attempts, and was shocked by your appearance. Mizu wasn’t in the room, but just as he was about to go looking, she stepped into the room.

Mizu’s gaze immediately fell to the figure on Ringo’s futon, a prominent frown taking place.

“Master, just listen-“

“Ringo, I can’t have anymore strays tagging along on this,” Mizu scolded, brushing past him to step over to you. Her anger paused quickly as she noticed how different you looked from them. “Who is..”

“I don’t know,” Ringo replied, stepping onto the other side of you and kneeling down, peeling off the blanket to reveal your injuries and strange clothing. Her eyes widened. “I was going to come find you to stitch up her wounds. I don’t want to encroach on her privacy since she’s a girl.”

Mizu sighed, her eyes shutting tightly. She was reluctant to do so at all, seeing as she doesn’t know you, and your attire was setting off alarm bells in her head. But she agreed, and Ringo took off his medical supplies and handed it to her before wandering off to make the medicine for when you woke up.

Your first meeting with Mizu after waking up was… interesting. She certainly didn’t act warm towards you, with her threatening you with a sword to the throat as soon as you sat up.

But after traveling with her since leaving Taigen behind, you’d began to slowly grow closer to her; more attached. She was distant at first, but slowly warmed up to you after finding yourselves in the same position.

Now, you found yourselves sparring in the middle of the woods before you hit another town the next day.

Mizu wanted to test out your spider sense; she had been intrigued by your powers since she’d first found out about them, wanting to test the limits of them, but not wanting to harm you on accident. She didn’t know how skilled you were yet.

She stood behind you and tied the blindfold over your eyes gently, making sure not to get your hair caught in the knot. She resisted the urge to let her hands wander across your taut shoulder muscles, not yet being willing to openly admire your looks.

“Alright, you’re set,” Mizu said, patting the top of your head before moving to stand a few yards in front of you from where you stood in the center of the clearing.

“If I get hurt, I’m gonna punch you,” You warn playfully, biting back a grin as you heard the sharp sound of Mizu’s sword unsheathing. You could practically feel her smirk as you remained still, but alert.

“Good thing I know what I’m doing then,” She rasped, making you swallow thickly.

The was lingering tension in the air as you heard Mizu’s footsteps go to the left, your enhanced sense cluing you in to her minuscule movements as you took a deep breath.

Before you could really tell with your own perception, you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand on edge. Mizu had swung her sword skillfully at you from behind, barely grazing the hair flying from your braid as you ducked into a lunge, sliding away.

She huffed, impressed. And continued to slowly taunt you with her attacks, which you quickly dodged each time. Eventually she had sheathed her sword and began using her arms and legs to kick and swing, until you ended up pinning her against the ground, your thighs on either side of her waist.

You quickly brought your hands to her wrists, pinning them against the ground and smirking as you heard her grunting underneath you. After a moment of struggling, she groaned but you knew she enjoyed the round.

“You win, god,” She chuckled lowly. You released her wrists and tugged the blindfold off, grinning down at her.

“Not so bad, huh?” You smiled, raising an eyebrow at her as she let her hands fall onto your thighs.

“Not at all,” She returned the smile, trying her hardest to hide the warmth growing between her thighs at the thought and demonstration of your capabilities. “Is it… hot out here?”

You pursed your lips before laughing, getting off her waist. “Mizu, it’s snowing outside.” You scoffed playfully, rising to your feet.

She hummed bashfully, taking your hand when you offered to tug her back to her feet. She gazed down at you softly as you brushed off your haori, smiling proudly once it was rid of the frozen mud and snow flecks.

She couldn’t help but feel her gaze soften almost inevitably as she let herself lovingly look at you for a moment while you were distracted.

Reaching down, she softly touched the braid that was slung over your left shoulder, admiring your (h/c) hair gently. You looked down at her hand, eyes wide before you tilted your head up to look at her face.

Her eyes moved back to meet yours, and you forced the fluttering feeling in your stomach away with a smile.

“Round two?”

#mizu x reader #reader x mizu #mizu x you #you x mizu #blue eye samurai x reader #reader x blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai imagine #luzura writes #olive writes #zoe's works #my works

[shebunie]

hi! heard you're taking requests for mizu... if you're able to, I'd love to see mizu with a y/n that gets super flustered around her! like, she just stutters and fumbles over her words, her face getting all red just because mizu may have looked at her a certain way. she's bad at hiding her obvious crush, but mizu finds it endearing, even cute! she allows herself to be a bit of a tease to y/n, knowing she'll get super red! your fics are super cute, I'd love to see how you'd portray this dynamic!

𝐀 𝐖𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫'𝐬 𝐓𝐚𝐥𝐞

𝗠𝗶𝘇𝘂 𝘅 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳, 𝘁𝗲𝗮𝘀𝗲, 𝗮 𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗿𝗲𝘀𝗵𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝗳𝗿𝗼𝗺 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁 𝗩𝗜𝗟𝗘 𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝗳𝗶𝗰 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟭𝗸 𝐀/𝐍: 𝗜 𝗵𝗼𝗽𝗲 𝗜 𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗮𝗽𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲𝗱 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹!

In the quaint village nestled amidst the serene snow-covered landscape of Mihonoseki, a delicate dance unfolded in the chilly air, unseen but felt by those caught in its subtle web. Amongst the bustling streets and traditional wooden structures, Mizu, a captivating figure with a mischievous glint in her eyes, held a certain fascination for one in particular—you.

The snowy month painted the village a monochrome masterpiece, the soft flakes of snowfall transforming everything into a serene dreamscape. Mizu, with her flowing dark hair and piercing eyes that mirrored the deep winter night, seemed to effortlessly command attention wherever she went. It was not pleasant.

You, however, found yourself ensnared by more than just the beauty of the season.

One chilly afternoon, as the village bustled with activity, a festival was underway, bringing together children and adults alike to wish for a better year. Hanging their desires, wants, and wishes on a tree was a cherished tradition.

The village was filled with joyous chatter, and laughing children created a symphony of happiness. Various stalls displayed an array of food and trinkets that had you in awe. However, amidst the vibrant festivities, you failed to notice the lingering stare of someone.

“Such a pretty hair jewel! Did you make them?” You asked the owner of a stall, gently picking up a delicate hairpin with their hands.

The stall owner, an elderly woman with a warm smile, nodded and began sharing the story behind each meticulously crafted piece. As you listened intently, a shadow fell over the scene. Mizu had silently approached, her eyes fixated on the interaction between you and the stall owner.

Unbeknownst to you, Mizu had been observing from afar, her curiosity piqued by the genuine interest you displayed in the artisan's work. The mischievous glint in Mizu's eyes intensified as she silently decided to join the conversation.

“Ah, those are exquisite pieces indeed,” Mizu chimed in, her voice like a soft breeze carrying a hint of mystery. You turned, startled by her sudden presence.

Mizu continued, her gaze locked with yours, "I couldn't help but notice your keen eye for beauty. Perhaps," Mizu's eyes sparkled, and with a sly grin, she plucked a delicate snowflake-shaped hairpin from the display.

"This one," she declared, seemingly confident in her choice. "It's like a piece of winter captured in silver and crystals."

With a quick motion, she gracefully slid the hairpin into your hair, her fingers brushing against your locks. The touch sent a shiver down your spine, and you couldn't help but meet her gaze, finding a world of mystery in those deep, piercing eyes.

"It suits you."

The festival's joyful ambience seemed to fade, leaving only the two of them in a suspended moment, like snowflakes frozen in midair. The sword wielder’s action caught you off guard, face burst into a flushed tone, you froze. Struggling to voice out a reply.

Grinning at your baffled state she leaned in, beside your ear her voice a soft whisper only you could hear over the festive clamour. 

"You look beautiful." 

You could feel the weight of Mizu's words hanging in the air, the roughness of her voice adding to the enchantment of the moment. The festival's vibrant colours and cheerful sounds dimmed as the atmosphere between the two of you intensified. The delicate snowflake hairpin glistened in your hair, catching the soft glow of the surrounding lanterns.

The flush of warmth spread across your cheeks worsen, you spoke in stammers as Mizu pulled away, her sly grin turning into a gentle smile.

"Than– Thank you, Mizu. You didn't have to buy this for, me." You gazed down at your hands, fiddeling with the digits to keep you distracted from the womans close proximity.

The festival noises gradually seeped back into your awareness, but Mizu's presence remained magnetic. She slyly grabbed a hold of your hand as the other was placed behind the small of your back, gesturing towards the lively stalls and the swirling dancers with a tilt of her head, "Shall we explore the festival together? There's so much more to see, and I'd love your company."

Her invitation hung in the air like a promise of further adventures. With a nod, too stunned to utter a word, you found yourself drawn into the flow of the festival by Mizu's side. The vibrant lights, the tantalizing aroma of festival treats, and the lively music enveloped you both as you meandered through the bustling crowd.

Every now and then, your eyes would meet, which you’d avoid in embarrassment, gaze now fixated on the snow-covered path. Mizu couldn't help but be amused by your bashful demeanour. Her laughter, like wind chimes on a crisp winter day, rang through the air. "You're charmingly shy," she remarked, her eyes sparkling with a mischievous glint. 

"For whatever reason you think it is– stop, stop teasing!”

Mizu's giggle, like a playful melody, filled the air. She leaned back, her gaze meeting yours with a glint of amusement. "Teasing? Me?" she said, feigning innocence, but her eyes betrayed a subtle mischief. "Perhaps a little."

Your playful retort, breaking through the lingering shyness. "You are oddly playful, and I'm getting concerned. Bring my Mizu back." With a turn of your head, facing away from the woman with crossed arms while you huffed.

Her sly grin persisted but now softened with a touch of sincerity. "I can't help but indulge in a bit of fun, especially when your emotions are so effortlessly displayed on your face."

Your heart skipped a beat as Mizu's fingers gently guided your chin, redirecting your gaze to meet hers. The warmth in her eyes seemed to deepen, capturing a sincerity that echoed in her words. The festival's enchantment, once a mere backdrop, now felt like a cocoon enveloping the two of you in a world of shared secrets.

A playful smile played on Mizu's lips as she continued, her voice a whispered melody in the winter night. "There she is," she breathed, as if uncovering a hidden treasure. "You look so endearing right now, how could your Mizu not resist?"

The compliment lingered in the air, creating a moment suspended in time. The festival's vibrant energy seemed to ebb away, leaving only the soft glow of lanterns and the gentle fall of snowflakes. It was as if the world had paused, allowing the connection between you and Mizu to deepen.

Mizu's hand, still cradling your chin, traced a delicate path down, along the veins of your neck, the dip of your collarbone, till she reached the smooth supple skin of your hand, where her fingers interlocked with yours. The touch was tender, a silent promise woven into the fabric of the winter night. As you sat side by side, the festival transformed into a canvas for a shared story, each moment etched with the magic of the unexpected.

The night beckoned with a sense of wonder and anticipation, and Mizu, with a glance filled with unspoken promises, suggested, "Shall we continue our exploration of this enchanting night? There's still so much more to discover, and I'd like nothing more than to have you by my side."

#blue eye samurai #mizu brainrot #blue eye samurai x reader #fanfic #mizu x reader #mizu blue eye samurai #mizu x you #bes #fic #request #fluff #tooth rotting fluff #bes mizu #my wife mizu #my wife #tenderness #cutie #writing #winter wonderland #cozy #bes comfort #loving #affection #like ahhhh #ahhh she’s so cute #this is everything #mine #i love you all #mizu is so gender

[mizuirokandeya]

i've never had hands before

This was part of the larger project as well and is again unbetaed. Also I just realized I missed uploading another scene from this project to tumblr. But you can find it in the series over on AO3 for now. I'll try to remember to upload it here as well at some point.

1100~ words | Read on AO3

Set at the end of 9x03 after Dean tells Cas he can't stay

Castiel's stomach hurts, rolls with something akin to anger — he knows that one now but it's not quite that. It's different, deeper. Colder, too. Still, he follows Dean wordlessly through the Bunker.

You can't stay, rings in his head, pitches higher and higher and he doesn't understand, doesn't know what he did wrong — hadn’t Dean just saved his life and had looked at him like it was a miracle that he was breathing? And yet he's asking him to leave, no explanation given. Forcing him out of another space he thought safe.

He can feel his lips tremble.

He knows Dean keeps looking back at him, eyes alight with something. Though Castiel has no idea with what. Because he is human. He can't read Dean like he used to. His Grace being a support to understanding words left unsaid isn’t news, of course, but it hit him differently when he realized that it includes Dean as well. That there’s no nonverbal feedback when he looks at Dean for too long, nothing resembling a prayer directed at him. It makes Castiel feel helpless all over. He doesn't know what to do with this new side of Dean. Of course, he still knows him. But there is something missing. Not there to help piece parts of the puzzle together like before.

Dean leads him to his own room. The door stays wide open and Castiel stops on the threshold, feet barely crossing into Dean’s space. He doesn’t want to assume he’s allowed any further when he’s not allowed to stay here in the first place. So he watches. Watches as Dean picks up a few things from all over the space. Watches as Dean places them into a bag. Watches, until he seems content with whatever he’s accumulated. The zipper is loud in the silence and Dean’s steps, when he brings the bag over to Castiel, are too. He holds it out, lips pursed and eyebrows drawn.

The human part of Castiel thinks he doesn’t want it. The strategist part thinks he might not survive without it.

There’s a stark difference between his heart and his head and he wishes they would both be easy on him, so he could figure out a way to ask to stay without having to ask. But all that comes out is a cracking, “I don’t-”

He feels the desperation of not getting out his words mount within him. Of losing the warmth surrounding him so soon again, of losing a roof and food supplies, of losing the safety of friends. Of someone who will explain all these strange new things to him without treating him differently. Of family. He’s just been found by them. He’s just basked in the gentle feeling of Dean steering him around the bunker by his shoulders, showing him the showers and the supplies, and answering whatever thing Castiel would trip over. And now he’s already supposed to give it back up.

He’s used to being on his own. But he’s not used to being truly alone. Feeling like there’s no one there. There’s no connection to his siblings left. None at all. And if there was, he thinks, they’d still want to kill me, and rightfully so. And he’s so used to hearing prayers — Dean’s for the most part but still some here and there from people he never knew the faces of — that he’s never had to get used to the quiet buzz of his own head, the twisting mess his own thoughts have become ever since he started messing up.

He steps forward, into Dean’s room and his space. He reaches past the bag and it ends up on Dean’s elbow, slipping to his upper arm. They are too close, nearly bumping into each other but Castiel needs him to understand. He can be useful. There are things he can still do. Whatever he's asked to do, he can. He can earn his keep if necessary. He opens his mouth but again nothing comes out. He can barely imagine what he must look like, wide-eyed and mouth shaping nothing but air. Useless. There is the odd sensation of a lump in his throat.

Dean looks down at Castiel’s hand, then back up. His eyes are wild with something — his grace surely could tell, it’s such an integral part to reading Dean but it’s not there and he can’t do anything — and then Dean huffs a laugh but it sounds wrong, awkward almost.

Castiel realizes that he’s made Dean uncomfortable the same moment Dean steps back, says, "Slow down, cowboy."

Castiel has no experience of being hit with a brick. At least none that came with the human pain he imagines adequate for the sensation. He’s sure it would feel like this. Feel like hearing words said to him in the same way they were years back and yet with a much different emotional weight behind them. Feel like losing his balance and the floor all at once. His heart stutters with the bleak reminder of a fond if secret memory he keeps tucked away for quiet and peaceful moments that so rarely come.

Now though he fumbles, pulls back, but still can’t get out a full sentence, "I'm- That's not-"

He doesn't know what Dean is thinking. If he’s even thinking the same thing Castiel is. He doesn't know and he hates that he can't even take care of this. Solve this simple problem that is the reason he has to leave. Though maybe that’s exactly why he can’t stay here. He is nothing without his grace but a mere human. Flawed and breakable. And wasn’t he already damaged as an angel? Wasn’t he already screwing up left and right then?

So what use would he be now then? Why would Dean want him around then?

An extra mouth to feed, to cloth, to shelter. They already have Kevin to watch after and while the bunker has plenty of space, their resources are finite. And at least Kevin can offer them something in turn. Something Castiel can not.

He blinks and finds his resolve then. If Dean wants him to leave, Castiel will. He has survived worse — and if he won’t this time then that is that. He can’t say he doesn’t deserve what is coming for him. He’s done enough wrong in this world. More so in heaven. He should do his penance. And if this is what is chosen for him, he’ll take it with his head held high.

So he takes the bag from Dean, holds his gaze, and says, “Thank you.”

And with Dean watching him silently, he turns and leaves the one place he wishes he could stay.

#destiel #destiel fanfic #destiel fic #spn fic #spn 9x03 #mizu writes #human!Cas #still mad that Dean kicked Cas out of the bunker #canon compliant #v: boys like you

[unamedica]

First time meeting their wives. Mizu: She was a magical forest creature. A sparrow, a caged princess, my crane.

Caitlyn: She was a convict I needed from maximum security. A Zaunite, a pain in the ass, my headache.

#mizu/akemi #mizu blue eye samurai #blue eye samurai #arcane league of legends #caitvi #Caitlyn Kiramman #Reincarnation? #I love them both #Time to work my fingers over time... writing fanfiction of course tehehe #Caitvi instantly judging each other while Mizemi are curious is the timed romance I needed haha

[erzsebetrosztoczy]

For your wounded heart

Pt.1

Pairing: Mizu x reader

Word count: ~2k

Notes: If there will be interest for it, I'll continue the story, because so far there isn't really a Mizu x reader going on lmfaoo but we'll seeeee

Ps.: Mizu's pronounce is he/him in this part

Here's Part 2

The molten gold disc of the sun slowly crept up the horizon, pouring gray onto the world from the darkness. It rose drowsily, languidly among the tall canopies, leaves lighting up as it projected onto them as thousands of thalers appeared next to the shining disk.

The songbirds ruffled their feathers — ready for the challenges of another day, and sang happily to their companions.

A strong draft escaped from under the wooden door, making the embers of the flickering fire dance before running through your covers.

The sudden cold bit into your skin; grabbing you from the realm of dreams, dragging you back to the world of the living with its icy fingers. You opened your eyes with a terrified sigh; waking up from the warm and caressing dream you pulled yourself under the covers.

Another day, another task ahead of you.

Wearly, you dressed up before trying to gather your belongings, which you would need shortly.

A scalpel, a knife, gloves and a deep basket soon graced your side as you set off into the awakening forest.

Three days ago, you were approached by one of the most influential merchants in town. His wife caught the chills-fever, which her priests had not been able to cure with any of their treatments. Realizing that needles, prayers and incense would not help here, the nobleman visited you the day before, when the noises of the market in the main square seemed to dull down, when you started packing your goods to go home.

It had been a long time since you were last offered such a sum - too long for your liking. Short of money - and because you would have faced the wrath of a powerful man if you refused - you accepted his offer to heal his spouse.

Early in the morning, when the rooster hadn't even crowed, you were already ready to go collect the ingredients for the potion.

The sharp autumn air crawled over your skin, penetrated your bones and breathed newfound strength into your heart. Listening to the soothing soft melody of the forest, you set off towards its thickets, hoping that you would find enough ingredients for your tonics today. Everything was ready to take care of the sick wife- all you had to do was get the hojicha flower, of which you had run out of stock a while ago.

Pulling your cloak tight around your shoulders, you stepped on the wet moss carpet, careful not to slip on the rutted ground. Soon the ground would start to freeze- you thought as you tried to remember which tree trunk you marked, where you should turn right or left to reach your usual harvesting location.

"If I want to have everything in the winter, I have to collect them in time..." You sighed, stepping over a taller ditch. "Maybe I should look at the market to buy seeds and-"

"To the best of my knowledge, you have to go the other way to the nearest market." A harsh, sharp voice spoke from your left.

You immediately screamed and if the cold didn't do it until now — the stranger who suddenly stumbled here had certainly frozen your blood. The pounding of your heart only made it worse as you spun backwards, trying to face the source of the sound. Your foot slipped and you fell to your knees, hitting a wet log while you turned your head trying to find the source of the sound.

After a while, three men appeared in front of you; one from the nearby bushes, while two crept out from behind the cover of the trees; like wild dogs lurking in wait for their prey.

"The lady must be lost, people can disappear quickly in the forest..." The other man nodded with a vile grin, rubbing his palms together while approaching you.

"Certainly, it is not recommended to walk alone in such remote places at the crack of dawn." The third man took over, turning his attention to the basket lying on the floor next to you. “It's better if we accompany you… so no one attacks you.”

"I didn't, I just-" You stammered, but your voice got stuck in your throat as the three strangers walked closer and closer. Their ragged and dirty clothes, their darkly glistening dreadful eyes ruled out that they were simple wanderers.

You ran into bandits on the road, alone, in the middle of the forest. Your heart was pounding in your throat and kept yelling for you to move, escape, run — otherwise you will take your last breath here forever.

Your eyes darted to your overturned basket – deep inside your knife was glinting in a cold light. If you could be fast enough to get it out of there...Fight for your life. You fight or you die.

But instincts were stronger than reason; the Gods opened a third way for you at that moment.

You pushed yourself away with your hands, your heels digging into the ground hard, almost scraping it up as you jumped up to run away like a chased deer. You could barely feel your legs, could barely breathe as you ran through the trees with all your might, jumping over bushes, rocks, and pits. With your heart in your throat, with the sound of the bandits' steps and shouts in your ears, you kept going forward, not even daring to look back.

Your ability to navigate had left you, you didn't even know if you were running towards or away from them, there was just the feeling that you still had to go, still run, still fight. If you stopped you were dead, if you fell you were dead, if they caught up you were dead.

A huge thorn bush appeared in front of you, too high and wide it would have been almost impossible to jump over it, to get around it; so for lack of a better option you tensed your muscles, pulled your neck in, closed your eyes and ran into the branches, shielding your face with your arms.

The pain that ignited in the darkness flashed through you as a hundred and a thousand spikes dug into your exposed skin; then you felt the ground open under your feet, suddenly you began to fall.

You didn't even have time to cry out when you hit the hard ground with your side.

Lying there injured and exhausted, with a bursting heart, you realized that it was all over.

You just sealed your faith.

Panting and choking from crying, you heard the rustling of the bushes behind you, then the trampling of feet.

"Here's the little slut" One of the men chuckled, but the cheering stopped almost immediately.

You did not dare to look up from the ground, did not dare to move; you were left lying on the ground trembling, awaiting death...

But nothing happened.

Another second, but there was only silence, no more footsteps, no giggles, no shouts.

Blinking away the dirt and blood, you looked from behind your lashes and then realized why you were still breathing.

The attention of the three thugs no longer plagued you. They turned almost motionless, to the left, watching ahead of them.

You followed their gaze and saw that you had fallen on a road. On a road where a fourth stranger was now standing in front of you.

A tall, lanky stranger in blue traveling clothes, the bamboo hat he wore pulled low over his face, obscuring his features.

A stranger with a sword in his hand.

Suddenly everything around you seemed to be silent; the chirping of the birds died away, the trees and twigs no longer creaked and cracked, as if the wind itself had stopped to watch the unfolding scene.

Not wanting to break the silence, you stared at the fourth stranger, holding your breath, wondering what would happen now.

Was that your savior ahead of you? Or was he just a wanderer who didn’t care what troubled others, who would only solve his own problems, regardless of if he made others ill-fated? Maybe you got out of the frying pan into the fire?

"There's nothing to see here." The nimblest bandit growled, a rusty knife in hand. "Everybody's minding their own business, right?"

"This matter belongs only to us and this woman, there is no need to cause difficulties for anyone." The largest one with a long mustache spoke slyly, the one closest to you clutched a heavy cudgel in his fist, his knuckles white from the force with which he gripped it.

The blue-clad stranger didn't answer immediately, instead tilting his head to the side, he peeked out from behind the brim of his hat, flashing his yellow-tinted glasses in the light.

"Looking at you, I suspect you are road thugs." The sword bearer spoke, his voice softer than you would have expected. "You rob those who come here." His words didn't seem like a question.

At this, the third man - the fox with a smile, who had a katana, spat down his side stepping forward in front of his companions.

"If you want good for yourself, you turn back or walk past us without another word." He snapped in his raspy voice, grabbing the hilt of his sword as the other two tensed with their weapons as well.

Barely able to handle the shaking and the hitching of your breath, you lifted your torso off the ground with challenge, turning to the blue-cloaked stranger desperately.

"Please…" Your voice trailed off as sobs broke from you. "Don't let me die, please!" Your voice cracked; hot tears washing away the mud and blood from your face. "Help me, please!"

The lanky stranger moved his arm back, revealing the hilt of his sword as he reached towards it with his right hand.

You inhaled through your teeth when you heard the deep clang of metal and clattering footsteps as the bandits charged towards him.

You dropped back down, pulling your knees to your chest as the battle began. Only daring to watch the scene from the cover of your arm.

The swordsman reached first the blue-clad savior, swinging an upward blow from the left, but his sword met another steel.

The man in the hat drew his sword from the sheath with the speed of a viper, breaking the first attack with almost no effort. Before the thug could react to it, the man was already flying to the ground, his legs entangled as the blue clothed one pushed him away to answer the next blow.

The rusty knife reached him second, and while his companion seized the stranger with his blade, he thrusted his knife towards your helper's neck. The cloaked man shoved the katana wielder away with his foot as he turned his torso to the side, the knife still flying towards him mid air.

Taking advantage of the movement, he turned to the right, placing one raised foot in front of the other, cutting across with his blade in front of him.

In a blink of an eye, red rain shot from the arm of the knife-wielding bandit - the sword almost cut his arm off. He staggered with a sharp wail, then fell to the ground, where he continued to shriek.

The one with a cudgel on the other hand did not attack yet, instead he stopped from a decent distance so the sword of the man in blue could not reach him, seemingly considering his next moves.

But this proved to be only a distraction when the first attacker reappeared, this time springing into action behind your savior's back.

The one in blue could hear this, as he turned to the side keeping an eye on both of his attackers, but then the largest started to move suddenly in order to attack at the same time with his other partner.

Seeing the impossible situation, you already had the mental image of the swordsman slashing your savior while the other beat him to death with the heavy club — you whimpered in terror, burying your face in your arms to shield yourself from the sight.

You heard a shout and the clang of steel meeting again, something heavy falling to the ground. A dull, more watery pounding - the cudgel! Bubbling, frothy snoring- a moan of agony and then silence.

You were next, you were sure of that.

Sharp cuts, bone-crushing blows and then slow, lingering death awaits you.

But there was no movement, not even a single grunt from the fight.

Panting, you raised your head to shorten your wait, but you did not find yourself facing the person you were waiting for.

You caught the gaze of the blue-cloaked stranger. You watched with a dry throat and roaring head as he stood over the three bloodied, dying bandits, his sword still clutched in his right hand.

The bamboo hat was no longer on his head, it probably fell off sometime during the fight when you weren't looking, and now was lying at his feet, waiting to be dusted off and put on again.

But instead, the stranger staggered, his knees buckling as he took two steps forward, finally slumping forward onto the ground, leaving you alone in the field of vigilance.

#blue eye samurai #mizu #bes #blue eye samurai x reader #mizu x reader #mizu blue eye samurai #bes x reader #blue eye samurai imagine #mizu imagine #bes imagine #blue eye samurai headcanons #mizu headcanons #bes headcanons #blue eye samurai fanfic #bes fanfic #mizu fanfic #x reader #for now i cannot decide yet if it will be gn or fem reader tho :/ #my writing