I just want to say I adore how you write Mizu, and I was wanting to know if you could wreck my soul with some Mizu angst.
A scenario kinda like the episode where Ringo took off the bell, could the reader have something that Mizu gave them. Like a bracelet, necklace, ring, etc, the symbolises their ‘relationship’ without having to use words. To give backstory their whole relationship up until this point has been getting more and more intimate but Mizu has never made the first move, just slight touches here and there. Anyways I wanna see Mizu and the reader get in a big fight about her revenge, and reader takes off the object and gives it back to Mizu, in a way breaking up with Mizu. And Mizu being stubborn takes it back with anger and says some hurtful things to reader. HMMM maybe reader goes back with Ringo to help save Mizu, or not. Up to you if you want to write a happy ending or if you’re feeling especially cruel. If you do decide to do a happy ending, could I request that Mizu finally speaks their relationship into words and makes them officially gfs & they finally have their first kiss. Could be NSFW if you take the happy ending route, or could be pure fluff. I just need Mizu to hurt my feelings. Thanks if you decide to pick up on my request, ily pookie.
couldn’t say it.
Pairings: mizu x fem!reader
CW: sfw, female reader, good amount of angst, blood, I’m evil kitty, brief mention of rape regarding mizu’s conception, episode 5 & 7 spoilers, a lot of rhetorical questions, mizu and reader being stupidly oblivious, wingman ringo lol, fluffy at the end, nudity, guys exams are over, I missed writing, not my best work but wtv, it’s decent for coming back after centuries dawg, reader is lowk entitled as shit, mentions of m*kio, be prepared to be annoyed by her, nvm this writing lowkey ass, very short, I forgot how to write longer fics for a sec I’m sorry, not proofread.
A/N: guess who’s backkkk I honestly would say I don’t like how this turned out but at the same time I’m trying to readjust to writing again cut me some slack 😔 now playing — last breath by ari abdul. 🕯️
Perhaps the harsh fate inflicted unto you by the will of the gods was a punishment? Or was it a steer in the right path?
Only time could bestow such puzzling answers to what you seek, to which you could start by letting go. Releasing the warmth of your lover’s hand from your own, tracing her palm one last time as your fingers glided along the calloused ridges of her palm scraping against your own. Ah, how you’d miss such a gentle touch delivered by the embodiment of a demon, the very being which you had ingrained the remainder of your life and soul deep into like a fated promise that withstood the harsh winters & blistering summers.
Yet if you were so deeply intertwined with such a person, how come you had to let go?
Mizu truly was your everything, the anchor that coiled her arms around you to savor the heat of your contrastingly hot skin against her thin frame. Her love who had eyed the bruising scars etched along her skin, saw the cruel and merciless ends she had put others to through a quick slash of her katana tearing through the spongy heaps of flesh that lay soon to be splattered all across the floors as a decoration of bright crimson.
But despite that, no words were ever uttered to convey how she felt. Nothing but her gestures would ever speak volumes of her adoration.
And yet, she couldn’t say it. She just can’t.
—
The cold howl of wind remained as the only sound screeching in the deathly silence fostered between you and Mizu in that moment, stinging along your flushed cheek like a jarring strike delivered onto you with the intention to deliver nothing but pain. To break you down and rip apart the volatile strings of your thumping heart hammering forward against your chest as your breaths wrung out of you in rapid successions.
Your eyes narrowed over as you remained trapped in the confines of wrath and sorrow, stood upright before the woman you loved, feet buried in the crunch of pale glinted snow piled up around your ankles, circling you as if it prevented you from stepping toward her to halt you in your position. Splatters of blood tainted the untouched purity of the crystals in streams of sickening red, burning into the snow as it trickled down from the sprawled body of each limp corpse embedded into the snow for it to consume.
A deadpan gaze matched your own as two fearsome hollows of cerulean seared into your own, the cool metal of a makeshift naginata grasped between her hand to brush along the drag of her firm hands coated in dust. Nothing else was of any concern in that brooding silence of whirling emotions. Hate? Love? Despair? Hell, all three if you’d assume so. Nobody else was important, only you and Mizu. Even Ringo and Akemi in the back were shut out of your mind taking in the thick tension fogged between you two, drowning out every other surrounding detail as worthless white noise.
“I’m sorry.”
Those simple words finally uttered by Mizu caught your attention quickly, her dazed, exhausted expression bleeding through as the thin fabric of her clothing clung to her skin from the torrid splotches of blood stained along her kimono. She truly refrained from ever hurting you, leaving you even. For you remained far too precious to her—a treasure that glowed in a radiant aura of gold outlining your stature for the rays of the sun. A courtesy of her thoughts as the rising sun cast its rays upon you right now.
Of course, it was absurd. Did she truly believe this could be remedied with a single apology half-heartedly pleaded from the deep hints of blue tinged along her lips? Despite the affection that spilled from your heart for this woman, your impulses had pushed forward to take charge, bursting out your disdain that lingered in your throat for far too long from the sheer frustration invoked by this conversation.
“Sorry? Do you hear yourself Mizu? You’re not doing this at all costs, if anything you’ll get yourself killed.”
“I won’t. And even if I do it’s of my own accord. My death doesn’t concern you, (Name).”
Your muscles tightened at her shallow words ringing in your head, tensing along each brief crystal of snow melting against your skin as you heaved out a shaky breath.
None of your concern? How come Mizu get to toss around these rash decisions herself?
Indeed, the samurai’s mere statement drew out the bubbling surge of your impatience boiling up, threatening to roll off your tongue in drips of venomous statements back, screaming about how she was wrong and how she was your whole world.
One of which you didn’t think you could live without.
The deafening clouds of silence hung in the air in a thick fog, blurring sight of the woman you love in a distance that twisted against your chest. A tension that threatened to snap as your gazed fixed upon Mizu’s form, hunched over and curved as testament to her struggles that she had shouldered through in agony. Every scratch and bruise, every stroke of her muscles defined along the thin malnourishment of her body remaining a fine line as to question the difference between suffering and strength.
Here you were before her, a blade that cut deep through her veins to tear through the guards of her own confined affection. Both as her strength and her weakness. One who could jab a finger through her chest and pulse a surge of adrenaline from your fingers dragging along her bare skin, or pierce through to dip a finger into her oozing wound and yank out her already battered heart to rest in your palm.
Your throat sank as you swallowed back nervously, her lowered eyes remaining locked onto you like a hawk circling its target. Just now under her supposed scrutiny, the smallest of actions motioned in nature’s course had ceased around you. The sinking of each sleek snow crystal floating down, the battering breeze carried along in accordance with the setting sun bearing a bright golden ring crowned around it—hell, even the bustling stalls around the area seemed to halt their business in your walled up perception of reality in this moment.
Suddenly, the defined steel seemed to press along your scalp momentarily, weighing down against the back of your head as it tipped back to gaze upon the fluffed white hunches floating along the gradually darkening sky, spilling its shroud of night upon you both slowly. Right. The hairpin she had gifted you.
You recall that moment all too well. That fated day where Mizu’s bloodied hands extended out to unveil the sun-kissed gold, glinting in the winter sun as a prized possession handed as an embodiment of the inexplicable feeling that oozed from every little crevice of her mentally. Perhaps just a feeling that compelled her to hand this to you? Or an instinct?
Either way, her little reckless walk in of forcefully pushing apart the sliding paper doors to reveal the lavish home of a daimyo for her own intel had allowed her to acquire a token of affection that taught her how to love once more. Your soft palm grazing against her own as she laid the hairpin flat against the cusp of your hand, the cold bite of the metal seeping along your skin as streaks of blood wiped over against you.
As the intricate hairpin woven through your locks, holding up your hair as long as you could manage in a day—such was accompanied by the swordswoman’s hand woven through your own as well, fingers interlocked between the gaps bridged in each others hands even in the comfort of nightfall when you two lay asleep against the same futon. Often times you claimed that your body pushed up along hers with the thick cover draped over you two was for security purposes, that you were rendered unable to defend yourself adequately if say...an army piled over you.
But even the fabric of her tattered clothing brushing up against the opening of your kimono never washed away the underlying truth that resided within you, threatening to spill off of your lips. While the same went for Mizu as well, her silent plea to keep your close against her, locking you within her grasp as to never let go. Perhaps she was in love with you? No, she couldn’t be. It was too far to reach for anyway.
Her subtle touches would remain pleasantly drilled into your memory with each delicate manner in which she ran her fingertips across your skin. Each touch calculated and careful as if you were a porcelain doll she feared to break whenever her thumb circled your hip, absentmindedly rubbing along various places along you and remaining unaware of the intimate implications of each gesture. And despite you knowing, you made no attempt to cease her motions or push her away, only drawing her in closer each time as you relished in the fuzzy, tingling sensation that built up, tying your stomach in knots as you shifted your cheek further into her neck every time.
The heavens above would dig themselves into a hole from the oblivious nature of both you and Mizu occasionally caressing each other with such actions. A manner in which you’d explore another’s body being the intimate gesture of lovers rather than close companions like the two of you had claimed far too many times.
But of course, both of you had walled yourselves into the caves of denial upon any inquiry prompted by anyone who was curious enough to ask. Most of the time it was Ringo who took notice of your oddly close relationship often. Needless to say, that man had constantly badgered Mizu on how she had felt about you, his optimistic demeanor to the possibility of a relationship sparking between you two squirming its way into his questions on said intimacy. And unsurprisingly, Mizu always proceeded to shut down the starter of: “So, about (Name)-“ before Ringo could even ask.
Despite all you had been through, all the tiny gestures of endearment reciprocated between you and Mizu seemed to crumble in the stone cold dilemma that silenced the two of you in this moment. Where she had planned to kick you off to the side in pursuit of her bloodthirsty ambitions that tainted the once beautiful hands that gripped at your sides tenderly. As you saw it, her excuse to leave you was to satisfy her insatiable rage that couldn’t be calmed by your presence.
It was selfish of you. You knew that. Yet how else were you supposed to see the woman in front of you now? Someone who valued the deaths of four white men who resided…god knows where in Japan over remaining here with her beloved. Well, if you could even call yourself that in this case. A blatantly obvious fact which you should’ve picked up on, one of which you should have listened to the others in regards to—that nothing could calm the raging storm that whirled endlessly within this demonic being.
No matter how gentle her touch, how kind she may seem alone with you. Her sole purpose was to kill. Nothing would budge on that. How could you let yourself think any different of someone like her?
“Is this just your way of saying you don’t care about me, Mizu?”
“(Name). You know full well that that’s not what I-“
“It clearly is!” You almost immediately snapped back, cutting her off as you flexed your jaw, making the hitch in your voice as stings of tears burned at the corner of your eyes. Fuck, you felt so weak before her. So vulnerable and ready to throw yourself into her arms.
And yet, she simply stood there like nothing would change if she departed from her beloved? That was more than enough to confirm it.
She never really loved you like you had thought.
Oh, what a stupid girl you were. Yearning for the affections of another woman. Much less one who was on a quest of revenge, fueled by pure hatred.
In one fluid motion, you reached behind your head, fingers scavenging through your hair for the familiar cool metal threaded within the strands, which you had found and grasped before long. Slowly, you withdrew the hairpin before clasping it within your palm as you brought it between both you and Mizu, her perplexed expression slowly shifting to shock as her eyes widened in realization.
You swiftly grasped her thin wrist, yanking her hand foward before practically shoving the hairpin back into her hands as her knuckles pushed back into her chest. Causing her to slightly stumble back as she gazed down in awe at the golden hairpin she had once given to cherish you, right back in her hands as a rejection of her love. Practically equivalent to being spat in the face and killed a thousand times over. Especially when it was you.
Mizu’s head spun with thousands of conflicting thoughts clashing against one another in a sea of uncertainty swallowing her from the inside out, ripping away any semblance of sanity she had kept within her. Her anchor slowly strayed away from her in a blow to the heart. Your presence remained her last thread of stability, and all she could do was stare as it tore away slowly at an agonizing pace, eventually snapping once more to damage her for good.
You wouldn’t be any different. Why did she let herself believe she was worthy of even experiencing love at all? She was of course a byproduct of force. The result of a wretched man prying apart her mother to implant a demon into the poor woman, and that would in turn make her. A monster who shouldn’t have existed. A mistake. He didn’t want her, he knew she was a monster the moment the blade was pressed to his throat—so why would you?
Suddenly, that same tempest of hate surged within her once more at the mere implications of your departure, squeezing her hand around the hairpin as her quivering lip dragged between her teeth. Her tense muscles were racked with her frustration bubbling along every vein in her body, coursing in her blood with a need to scream out her pain until her vocal cords tore apart.
But she couldn’t.
Whatever she needed to say about you, how she felt and to confide in you. Tell you she loved you.
She couldn’t say it.
Despite her inability to express her undying love, Mizu was aware there was one thing she could do. And that was to express her rage. What place did she have for love on this path? It was pure hatred that drove her to seek the men she had to kill. Her life’s purpose was nothing else, yet enough to push her through hardships when necessary, she didn’t have to waste her time on someone as stubborn as you who demanded that she abandon her purpose to remain beside you.
She knew that, yet it hurt like hell when she tried coming to terms with it.
Her teeth grit together as she clasped the hairpin in her bloodied grip tighter, the stains smearing along the once untouched gold to taint the purity into the depths of crimson. The pin was back in her hand, the same state in which she first gave it to you—palm covered in blood as she handed it towards you. Only this time, her hand retracted back to her chest, staring down at the pin shoved back into her, as a rejection of the love she had hoped to give you. With a sharp breath, her eyes fixed back up toward you opening her mouth to reply to your harsh gesture in return.
“You know, (Name)? It doesn’t matter to me. Whether I live or die is none of your concern. Nothing I do should mean anything to you, because you mean nothing to me! Understood?”
You tried opening your mouth to manage a reply, yet you were immediately denied the luxury of speaking to your mind to her.
“Just don’t even look at me. I can’t believe I thought you’d be any different. What we had truly was just a waste of my time and yours…so all I can do for you is suggest we go our seperate ways.”
That was all she had uttered from her chapped lips, tinged from the bitter cold as she turned her back to you, footsteps crunching in the piles of snow as she grew more and more distant from you. All while you had remained silent in awe, staring off until she disappeared from sight into the thick fog that blinded your vision of the woman you had once loved.
—
“Ringo..? Are you sure she’s alive?” You quietly murmured, knelt before Mizu’s body as the hue of orange flame illuminated her still frame, unresponsive to your touch with her back flat against the floorboards. Ringo merely hummed in turn, inspecting the samurai’s body over her kimono as he only managed a shrug, his own expression worried in turn.
Regret clawed deep within you as your gaze raked over Mizu’s possibly dead body, heartbeat rapid in your chest as it pushed back against your skin its quick pulses of rising anxiety. Taigen’s body also lay not too far behind you, yet your focus remained fixed onto Mizu, your hand carefully snaking down to take her limp, cold hand within your own grasp. Tracing idly along every little detail of her palm up to the calloused of her fingertips, with your other hand cupped over her knuckles while your sights remained on her resting face.
“Do not worry. Mizu’s soul is stubborn.”
A rasped voice suddenly interjected, causing you to whip your head over to the elderly man facing over at you and Mizu though his shut eyes. Right, you never had met Master Eiji, so the sight of the blind swordsmith in the flesh before you was a first. Out of the single outcome that you had presumed, never had you expected to sit face to face with your unconscious—likely dead, lover.
—
The roaring flames crackled within the confines of the stone walled around it as specks of orange dust floated to dissipate into the darkened sky, your heavy eyes barely registering the sight before you scrambled in a blur. Stepping out of the forge groggily, your gaze landed upon the tall woman stood firmly before the stir of heat before her, hair loose to cascade down her bare back where her kimono was hitched down to reveal the wraps bound over her chest.
Your nostrils drew in the crisp air tinged with a hint of smoke emanating from the flames burning before you in the stretch of grass, before you set your foot down into the green cushion welcomed by the rise of spring. Each step you took toward Mizu only clouded your head further, the urge to throw yourself into her arms overwhelming you, yet one you chose not to act on when you approached her.
Flicks of each speck of fire floating away, alongside the raw desire to seek the warmth and comfort of your lover’s arms only piled within you as nature’s primal instinct to draw you closer. Every inch of you screaming her name as a plea to keep Mizu close to you, to let her go when needed- you truly didn’t care. You just needed Mizu with you, no matter the cost. For leaving her was not a mistake, but a death wish that stopped your heart altogether.
Upon reaching her, Mizu’s head craned over to take in the sight of you facing her while the bandages that bound her chest pooled down to her ankles, leaving her chest bare. She exhaled a breath, averting her gaze from you as her cerulean eyes aimlessly stared over at the wrathful flames before her. Your wordless stare was more than enough for her to brace for your sudden gesture of relief as you feel into her grasp, arms circling her waist with a quiet sob as your head pressed to her chest to relax with each thump of her heart. Relief that she had returned alive, and relief that she was willing to accept your silent apology to align your fate with hers.
Mizu sighed as she held you close to her tightly, fearing you could slip away at any moment with her nose digging into your hair the further you leaned against her chest.
“…I love you.”
She had finally said it. Spoke the forsaken words that had been buried away deep within her, carved into her heart yet unable to roll off of her tongue as seamlessly as it had done now. And yet, she had finally uttered what she always wanted to say to you. Everything was blindingly clear, to which she was a fool for not seeing earlier. Mizu had loved you. Adored you with every ounce, every little fiber of her being to which she’d kill anyone for you. Her cold hatred she held juxtaposed the fond tenderness of being with you at any given moment. For you were all she had desired, and will desire for the lifetime.
The same held true as you withdrew your head from her chest to lean forward, bottom lip brushing over her own as a request to access yet another intimate gesture. To which Mizu complied, allowing you to tilt your head into locking your lips with her own. Sharply inhaling to savor her taste in slow, leisurely motions as your lips ate away at her own in an embrace, swallowing up each quiet sigh while her hand rested on the back of your head to pull you closer.
The moment she pulled away, you nodded almost instantly, understanding what she needed from you.
Gratefully, you accepted the brush handed to you, looking over its darkened bristles on the tip alongside the ink pad atop the rock, before shifting your attention back over to Mizu with her back facing you. She glanced over her shoulder, breathing out a quiet whisper while you stepped forward, brush pressed below her nape as you mentally recalled each portion of the heart sutra with each stroke you dragged along her skin.
“There are some things I cannot do alone.”
A/N: GUESS WHOSSSSS BACKKKKKKKKUHHHHHHH yes yes hi hellaurrrr it’s been too long i missed yall I hope this fic isn’t too disappointing I fluctuated between good and bad writing it was confusing asf but hope you don’t mind the bit of lazy writing I’m sorryyyy overall this fic wasn’t too awful?? But definitely not my best work and I forgot how to write for a hot moment until the end so I don’t wanna hear too much complaining 😾
I ❤️ my wife don’t interrupt our happy marriage or I’ll eat your fucking spice jars
also I’ve had this really bad hatred toward humanity recently?? Like ragebaiters and people hating on others for their interests and thinking it’s justified are dumb as shit it’s painful ngl anyway I loev writitng and I loev mizu so hope yall like this??
