#The tenderness of Mizu and Mikio

[coconut530]

a bride blighted by blood becomes a beast

[k0yaz]

I saw that you were wanting requests for Mizu, so hiii, I have one! :)

What about one where fem! Reader takes care of Mizu when she’s injured or just back from a long day (stitching wounds, massaging hands and stuff when she’s sore, preparing her favorite meals, etc.)?

And then when she finally convinces Mizu to come to bed for the night, Reader holds her to her chest and just lets her focus on her heartbeat while she helps her relax and fall asleep.

Just overall fluff, y’know?

Hope this request is okay!

remnants of firewood and steel.

Pairings: mizu x fem!reader

CW: sfw, female reader, descriptions of wounds idfk, girls kissing oh no, wlw, shy mizu my beloved, uhm idk she gets naked but not in a sexual way you little grabby hand freaks, obv lemme put that more formally lol, nudity, mizu being my lil cutie patootie blinded by revenge, someone send me back to 1657 please I need to hold this woman so bad, ik this has nothing to do with him but can I beat the fuck out of mikio thanks, number one mikio hater and number one mizu lover, not proofread.

A/N: ok so I do have a mizu fic saved with this exact banner if the author of the fic finds this I DIDNT STEAL UR BANNER I FOUND IT ON PINTEREST PLS DONT EXECUTE ME anyway FIRST FIC OF 2025 YAY mizu deserves the world pleasee i remembered in ep 5 when mikio’s fugly ass said that she liked dried mackerel and I can’t stop thinking about that she’s so cute I’m sobbing🕯️

A quiet hiss sizzled through the tense push of Mizu’s teeth grit together as your fingertips grazed the seeping wound gashed along her forearm. Carefully examining the split ends of skin patterned down to halt at her wrist, the cool air pelting against the wood of the door to your shared home spilled through a small crevice cracked open in exposure to the interior warmth.

Each sweep of the frigid breeze fanning against your flesh only served to ease the discomfort wrenching in you upon hearing your girlfriend’s strained sounds of agony from the sunken wound embedded into her arm, followed by a sharp exhales expelled from her lungs each time she withstood the pain of you stitching each wound slit across her body closed. Mizu only groaned in response to your futile effort to minimize the sting of the needle protruding through her flesh, as the string threaded across the reddened opening searing the exposed muscle.

“Mizu, what did I tell you? You can’t keep being reckless and get hurt like this.” You scolded her firmly as you closed up the scarring of her stitched wound, trying your best to shut your mind and disregard her pained expression. It already hurt you enough seeing the wounds adorned across her skin as a grim reminder of every battle, every ache twisted into her chest in the gruesome state of her physical and emotional fights, lingering along with the tainting stains of her past betrayal.

Only a defeated hum vibrated against the bandages circled around her throat, your hand momentarily rising to carefully tug at the plastering utilized to mask her lack of an adam’s apple. Your irises, now harboring a softer, more hazed flicker outlined around them in a sense of tenderness tilted up to meet Mizu’s own, silently inquiring her permission to tug off the bandages. The ripples of air continued to draw inward like a disruption cutting the warmth of your home, inducing an odd tranquility within the thick atmosphere clouding the air in a mix with the trailing smoke.

“How did you get hurt this badly again?” You muttered in a gentler tone than before, eyes locked onto her unfeeling expression as you carefully unwrapped the bandages tightened against her skin. Your hands trailed down to the base of her neck as they cascaded down onto the floor, carefully kneading her skin in a heartfelt massage.

“Just got ambushed by what I assume to be someone sent by Fowler again.” She sighs, allowing the bandages to fall loosely down her chest and pool onto the floor, similarly to a downpour of blood spilling from an enemy’s throat. You drew in a breath as you nodded in response, carefully pushing aside the bandages curled up onto the wooden floorboards while you rested the ridge of your palm against Mizu’s sweat-laced throat. “Still won’t get off your ass?”

Mizu huffed out a quiet laugh, folding up the orange tinted glasses between her fingertips as she set them atop the pool of bandages tucked away to the side. Reaching up, you proceeded to caress the side of her face smoothly, palm running along her defined cheekbones while she tilted her head to lean into the gesture of clinging attachment, tugging at the center of both of your hearts in a loving connection that wordlessly tied you two together at the shoulder.

You beckoned her to lay back comfortably rather than to strain herself by kneeling before you, her knees likely aching as the chafed against the hard wooden floors. With a benign push to her shoulder, Mizu leisurely reclined down onto her discarded kimono sprawled out below her, her back weighing against the pressure applied to the freshly closed wounds slashed along her spine as well. Her eyes narrowed in the meantime while you kept away from her for a short while, fixing a beverage off to the side while she was flat against her back, shoulders relaxed and lowered to press onto the hard lined wood.

The simple home she shared with you, isolated from the whereabouts of large urban areas around Japan, fostered the calming, homely serenity of where she had grown up with Master Eiji. Close to, yet distanced from Kohama. Remnants of the familiar scent of burning firewood and steel seemed to float around in a ghostly sense, despite the charcoal fueled shadow of metal remaining nowhere to be seen in your home.

On top of the racing memories swirling around her thoughts, replaying echo after echo of her past recounting her life up to this point, she always found refuge within the grasp of your arms whenever you held her close to your chest, heartbeat thudding against the shell of her ear in rhythmic, yet soft knocks. Not only did the gesture soothe her with an audible memoir of her lover’s presence, reminding her that she was currently loved and held in the grasp of the woman she cared for most…

It also reminded her that you were still alive.

The remnants of firewood and steel, the salty odor of fish on occasions when you cooked it, even the smoke floating from the dim lighting of the candle alongside your presence was the heartfelt reminder that you were still there with her. And she swore to protect you to her limit, or die trying.

A mellow aroma began to waft through the air in a snaking path of steam, dispersing across the enclosed space to induce a rush soothing Mizu’s tense muscles and your own cluttered thoughts. Her eyes flickered down to the sight of your hands held out as they curled inward in a cusp, carefully grasping the porcelain teacup you spent a fortune on from the time you had visited Edo.

Steam continued to arise from the hot tea rippling in a pattern of emanating rings expanding from the center and dissolving around the edges while you kept blowing away the steam fogging up your line of sight. Mizu shakily elevated herself from the kimono bedding her back, hand shielding her wound to avoid any possible risk of the flesh tearing open again.

Now half dressed—left in nothing but her harem pants and chest binding, she slowly parted her lips to taste the aroma for a brief moment, clamping them back shut as you knelt before her to extend your arms in her direction. She couldn’t help it. There was something about seeing you face to face which enveloped her whole body in an intoxicating warmth she didn’t want to escape from. The burning urge to cup your face and press a solid kiss directly onto your lips right in that moment.

A shame she had to restrain herself to suppress that humanity she craves that she could wallow in. She couldn’t cling to that sliver of hope that she could live normally…not when she was so dead set on killing the remaining three.

Mizu greatfully accepted the cup in both hands, allowing the sleek porcelain to slip between her palms as she brought the steaming rim to her lower lip. You watched intently as she sipped the tea, clicking her tongue against the roof of her mouth as she savored the flavor of the hot beverage. Clearing her throat, Mizu commented on the taste, albeit a bit hesitantly as you could tell by the embarrassment which you learned to pick up on throughout the course of your relationship.

“…could you make it sweeter..?”

“I thought someone so coldly powerful and unfeeling preferred a more bitter note in her tea?”

“Please, (Name)…do you get off on assuming these things while im on here unable to swallow without it hurting?”

“Ah- right. Your injuries…sorry, love.” you mused, taking the cup back to add the hint of saccharine the samurai oh-so-desperately wanted. “While you’re at it…take everything off while you sleep. I don’t want you to feel constricted by any clothing—especially those bindings on your chest. It’s not good for your breathing.” You added while fixing her tea, earning a subtle nod from Mizu as she tugged at the waistband of her pants, pointer finger testing the elasticity.

While she disrobed, another pungent smell stung her nostrils sharply, yet it didn’t take long for her to pick up on the familar scent of a snack she quite enjoyed. Salty. A metallic yet earthy odor clinging to the back of her throat as she took in the smell.

“Dried mackerel?”

You smiled at her question, giving her a brisk nod before setting the cup back down before her now fully bare frame. Mizu’s toned arms gleamed a gentle gold from the faint candlelight, her slender yet muscular form encompassed in the captivating glow of orange gold. She could only manage a weak smile in response as you handed her a bowl of the dried fish she secretly adored, alongside the newly sweetened tea, basking in the gentle fuzzy feeling overtaking you upon seeing your usually stoic girlfriend genuinely happy.

—

“Was there a need for you to take everything off too…? You’re not injured, (Name).”

You simply shrugged as you rolled over beside her on the heaping futon, noticing her gaze avert from yours bashfully. Cupping her cheek, you firmly turn her head towards you, yet lacking any forceful action, allowing her head to turn along with the motions of your hand guiding her. Those bright blue eyes boring into you with a heightened intensity—cutting through the flesh and bone spiritually and ingraining into your very soul as it burrowed deep within the wisp of your heart.

A symbol of her impurity and ‘filth ridden’ origins that outcasted her from the rest of society, kicking her off to the side like some stray. Yet to you, they were only a beauty to behold. An impurity you yearned and longed for, the metal of a sword that required a hammering that retained some of that impurity. The fire in her edge was almost perfect, despite the monstrosity she saw in herself everytime she looked.

The monstrosity in which you wished you help her see was perfect.

You exhaled a gentle breath as you pressed your shoulder to Mizu’s, the skin to skin contact emitting a sort of raw affection ignited between the two of you as you sought more of the gentle heat. Her fingers hesitantly crept up between yours as your hand rested between your chest and hers, your own fingers quickly clasping her hand tightly as you laced your own fingers without a second thought.

Mizu blinked, breath catching in her throat as you brought your joined hands to your left breast, resting the back of your knuckles against your skin comfortably. Your heart. Her hand was on your heart. Thousands of questions began to conjure up in her supposedly resting mind, not being able to believe the sight before her as she took notice of your steady breaths.

That wasn’t enough proof.

Was your heart still beating..? She couldn’t feel it through your palm…

You noticed the change in her demeanor in a matter of seconds, your head lifting from the edge of the futon to pay attention to her seemingly frozen self.

“Mizu..? Is something-?”

“Your…heartbeat.” She breathed out, fighting back the quivering tension plaguing her throat. You were all to familar with when she got like this, so exhausted to the point where she believed that everything around her was playing tricks, the one time she was left especially vulnerable in need of your support.

You nodded, leaning over to capture her lips in a slow, languid kiss as you attempted to ease her stress. Hand traveling to her nape, you brushed away her now loose hair, flowing past her shoulders whenever she undid the bunched up topknot. In a nurturing embrace, you slowly guided Mizu’s head down to your bare chest, illuminated by the filtered moonlight as the blown out candle’s smoke continued to float through the air.

Gentle breaths accompanied the steady thuds of your heart pushing against your chest with each pulse, slowly relaxing the built up anxiety raging throughout Mizu’s mind. The vibrations of your heart pulsating within your chest rang along her ear as well, gradually lulling her to sleep in comfortable solace, knowing that you’re still alive.

You were still alive. You were with Mizu, and loved her with all you had.

A/N: I was supposed to post this on January 1st absolutely not lmfaoooo but shh anyway I have no authors note other than I’m in love with mizu agagagaga sorry guys leaked the script for the end of the show she actually marries me

AND DONT YOU DARE ANY OF YOU TRY FIGHTING ME ON THAT SAYINF “uhm no it’s actually me!! SHUT UP I GET IT NOW LEAVE ME ALONE AND STOP REFUTING MY CLAIM WE CAN SHARE OUR BELOVED SAMURAI DONT BE GREEDY

someone get her brown contacts for those baby blues I’m shaking

[hastyprovocateur]

Mizu, Akemi, Brothels & Bedrooms

Mizu and Akemi's approach to sex (so far) has been very inverse. For Mizu, sex is intimate, almost sacred to the point of inaccessibility. Her pretending to be a man has compelled her far from intimacy in order to protect herself and her secret. On the rare occasion when she does engage in physical relations during her shortlived marriage, she engages in it furtively. She's shy, sweet and submissive. She has very little to no experience and while she enjoys it, she doesn't appear to demand to be in a position of authority while it ensues. She's happy to let go of the reins and allow herself to put in a safe space. Her voice pitches and she doesn't fight to maintain any composure.

Mizu isn't exactly averse to sex. After losing mama and killing Mikio, Mizu just closed herself to the possibility of intimacy. She doesn't intend to romantically engage with anyone or be as intimate with anyone as revenge has become her priority. She now dismisses sex, considering it an act that is void of art or tact. Base. Something that decentres the spirit. Dare I say, she sees it as a facade after Mikio. An act that misguides the participants to consider their bond deeper than it really is. It is parallel to Akemi's first time, where both her and Taigen seem to be proccupied with other concerns, quickly distancing from each other after an act that most would consider to be a paramount of bonding between lovers.

Regardless, Mizu's resolutions haven't killed her intrigue for "peculiarities" as evident in her stint at Madam Kaji's where she (despite her dismissive facade) peers into the windows of pleasure, exploring sutras, bondage and threesomes. With the masculine avatar she's donned on her path of revenge, even if Mizu's resolve grows shaky, she's restricted by the complications that should arise if she goes down the path of any intimacy. Giving her more walls to break through and more walls for any potential lovers to break through as well to get to her tender breast.

In terms of general pleasure, Mizu is shown to be extemely physical and playful. She gets riled over armed combat, her face flush and full of love. To whoever she feels safe and happy with, she gives her all. Whether in bed or otherwise, she'll surrender her body and her sword. Aside from fighting, Mizu is passionate about different forms of art, especially sword making and other creative arts like music. You can call her... cutely nerdy (?) in the sense of her keen understanding of iron work, different fighting techniques, blade strikes, all of which she knows by heart. It can be imagined that a sure way to catch her whims would be to spark conversations about artistry in general.

Akemi, on the other hand, intends all her sexual overtures to have a fixed purpose. She's written as a character who prepares intensely for her ambitions. We see her revising a written speech before arguing her bit to her father, switching to appeasing to his fatherly side by playing the "naive daughter" to get him to agree with her and Taigen's engagement. In ep 4 we see her curating an impish, adulant image of an innocuous sex worker before making Mizu's acquaintance, intending to lower her guard enough to subdue her and bring her to Taigen. She finally goes on imbibe the perfect subservient, loving wife to finesse Takayoshi and thereby solidify her say among other exponents in the Shogun's family.

Her mind is like a self gearing machine in terms of playing pieces to give herself a fighting chance. Sex is a part of this rematch. With sex as a means, it's arguable if she genuinely feels pleasure in the process but she ensures that she's able to pleasure her partners to an end that serves her. With men, it's always about massaging their ego. With Taigen, Akemi initiates sex to be able to coax him into focusing on her and saving their engagement instead of letting him fixate on his recent loss of his hair and honour. In the brothel, she regales Watari, a man who's never won a fair fight, and has become impotent due to his weight, by appealing to his poetic side and using it to flatter him to ejaculation. With Takayoshi, a man subdued by his mother for his stutter and meek ways, Akemi admits to finding his speech impediment endearing, apologising profusely to resume her submissive position as his wife and proceeds to consummate their marriage while encouraging him to recite poetry.

Like Mizu, Akemi's curious about sex in itself and went against her teacher's wishes to explore erotic literature. She's well versed with sexually coloured poetry and easily weaves sex into conversation, using it to talk her partners to orgasm. She has a varied understanding of poetry, an art she uses as a weapon to flatter men, citing Shōtetsu, Minamoto no Shigeyuki and her favorite, Ono no Komachi. A waka poetess writing chiefly in matters of melancholy and passionate love. She's also skilled in all manner of art that are intrinsically ornate but are notorious for being feminine or are used to entertain men such as poetry, koto playing, dancing and calligraphy. An average man would deem such arts lowly but he doesn't consider that such arts can be used to easily lower his guard to his very vanquish without him ever doubting that there was even a ploy in the first place. Akemi wields these talents to her advantage. Sex and fine arts are only a few of the weapons in her arsenal.

Strangely enough, it's not exactly touched upon what Akemi actually finds desirable outside of what she must do to get her way. It can be guessed that she'd be disarmed by anyone who lasers through her simpering girly act, someone who can be valiant and honourable, someone who doesn't weigh virtue and strength through the prejudice of gender, someone who's able to value her in all her intricacies instead of pushing her to be a proper wife or improper whore.

Likewise, I can imagine Mizu wanting the same degree of acceptance. Someone who nurtures her feminine side without alienating her masculinity. Someone who doesn't demonise her appearance or consider her an anomalous product of two races. Her ideal type hasn't been detailed but her bar was really low. She didn't care about Mikio's age or social status or wealth. Akemi was also shown to having a narrow criteria for marriage, preferring Taigen solely because marrying him meant staying in Kyoto, near home. For both Taigen and Mikio, they benefitted from the unhinged cruelty other men could afford, appearing decent by comparison because they did the bare minimum of asking for consent.

It is still very nascent as to what Akemi and Mizu truly desire. Mainly because there hasn't been much room for individual desires. Akemi was already "past her prime" and evading marriage was no option as it was a decision sealed in stone by a girl's father the moment she hit puberty. For a time where women had little say in who they married, managing to get engaged to Taigen was a feat in itself. Her attempts to escape the arranged marriage with the Shogun's son was rendered fruitless by Taigen, Seki and in great part, Mizu. Akemi finally embraced her new married life, making peace with fighting within her means instead of trying to run away from them. This leaves a lot of room for what she'd eventually want for herself in the future. We know a part of her wished to leave with/without Taigen to live on a farm in Kokura but she's still too early in her journey of knowing exactly what she wants but she's constantly figuring things out.

Similarly, Mizu didn't have a say in her former marriage either but she was ready for the obligations it would impose on her, aware that she'd be compelled to conceal a part of her that men wouldn't welcome in their wives. Her masculine side that is capable of fighting like a samurai. Her sword of a soul. With her sworn revenge, aversion to all forms of intimacy and commitment to playing the part of a man, Mizu has become a vessel for all the ill will, prejudice and poor decisions men imposed on her. She doesn't have the liberty to bare herself and engage in fulfilling her desire as she's discovered to like it but the more characters she interacts with, we as audiences can observe seismic shifts in her perception of herself through the people she meets. These experiences serve as guiding lines for developing future desire. Of independent choice.

[roslynvb]

(REQUEST FROM MY POOKIE WOOKIE: “if you haven’t, you should do something where you tell her eyes are pretty like. that one scene with akemi.”)

#: gn reader!

It was cold, and you were alone. Waiting for Mizu. She was taking awhile, but you figured it was nothing and she was just busy.

It had been a couple hours, and you had already made dinner. It was slowly starting to get cold cold and you started to worry. You heard a slide of the door, and a soft knock. Mizu had come home after what seemed like forever.

“I apologize for my lateness.” Mizu said, sounding like she was hurt. You walked over to her and held her arm.

“I’m just glad you’re home. Did something happen?” You ask, worriedly. Mizu didn’t want to bother you, especially since you had already worried so much for her.

“It’s nothing, just a small cut that needs a little stitching.” She said, holding her side in pain. Blood stained her clothes, you knew it wasn’t hers. But that stain right where she was holding definitely was.

“Let me take care of that for you, please. It’s the least I could do for you.” You say, wanting to help as much as you can. Mizu looks at you, smiles a bit, before hissing in pain.

“Thank you.” Mizu says, obviously tired and worn out. You hold her up and take her to the other room. She takes off the layers of clothing, revealing a nasty cut that definitely needed tender care.

You sit next to her, the cut had been around her stomach and she noticed you looked nervous and your eyebrows were furrowed. She watched you as you were focused on taking care of her wound. She feels bad about letting you do this, but she knows there’s no changing your mind.

You felt her eyes on you, one of the things you loved most about her. One of the traits that stands out the most. You still remember the first time you saw them. You come to realize you’ve never told her just how you feel about the way they glistened, and just how much you love them.

After you were done, you sat up and held her hands with yours. “I was worried Mizu. But I’m glad you trust me enough to clear your wounds.” She squeezes your hand, trying to ignore the pain she was in.

“I couldn’t imagine someone else doing it for me..” Mizu says, a tired sigh escaping her. You smile at her comment.

You look up at her. Her hair was down, her glasses were on a small table. You felt compelled to look at her eyes, and started for quiet some time.

“Your eyes are beautiful, Mizu.”

She looks at you, eyes widened a little. They slowly turned into a soft gaze, and she smiled at you.

Although Mizu might not be so good with words when it comes to you, her actions say enough. She hugs you tightly, and you two rest for the night. Falling asleep into her arms, as she holds your head in the most loving way a woman can.

(side note, I hate mizus mom and mikio. This is a mikio hatepage. fuck mikio, I hope he fucking rote in the afterlife.

Im probably just being a hater, cuz nmlnm forever!!! anyways writing still makes me nervous but I love my pookie sm!!

@cyberchxn for you pookie…