I donât know if weâre still in the age of Y/N L/N search-and-replace self-insert fanfics but can I just say thereâs MASSIVE untapped potential for a Y/N L/N Death Note fanfiction if you just
if you just
hang on. This. Like this:
âŠ
Light clicked his bedroom door shut, and leaned against it, and slid gently down. His attention was wrapped so wholly in the unmarked envelope in his hand. He slit it open, and unsheathed the documents like he was pulling money from a wallet. He was, in a sense. These documents had cost him. The private eye he hired had not been cheap.
But it HAD been worth it, Light knew with relief washing through his veins as he thumbed through the contents: birth certificate, social security card, medical records, vaccination history, school records, IDs with photos â motherâs name, fatherâs name, date of birth, eye color, hair color, blood type.
Light held in his hands EVERYTHING there was to know about the girl. And he basked in it, drinking it in, a name finally to attach to the woman who haunted him.
First name: Y/N. Last name: L/N.
Light cracked a grin, rib cage rippling with manic chuckles that bubbled to his lips and erupted, cackles, delighted trills. The sense of victory flooded him. That girl who knew he was Kira, that girl who had worked so hard to hide her identity, that girl who plagued him, followed him, haunted him every day, who he could never touch.
Finally, Light could kill her.
He rose, and walked nearly numb to his desk, and pulled out the scrap of Death Note he kept in the false bottom of the top drawer. He reveled in it as he wrote: Y/N L/N, dies alone at 11:48pm of a brain aneurysm.
The damnation felt so sweet.
âŠ
She was waiting for him, early as the sun which crested behind her, all soft smiles and sweet squinted eyes. She was waiting for him as she did every single day. She stood there, as always - a thing of nightmares.
The blood left Lightâs face once he opened the front door to her, feet and hands tingling cold, stomach in knots.
Heâd been worried when he awoke to no news about his dead university classmate. And the confirmation of his every fear settled as a knot in his gut. Y/N L/N was alive, in front of him, just as she was every other day, smiling.
âYou seem surprised, Light. Like youâve seen a ghost?â Her wry smile was a mockery. Light loathed her more than anything.
âY/N ⊠L/NâŠâ he muttered, through gritted teeth. ââŠGood morning.â
âOh! You discovered my name. Good job good job, that was faster than I expected.â
âWhyââ
âArenât I dead?â she titled her head and swayed a bit in place. âThatâs how Kira kills people, yeah? Full name? And youâve got mine. So why arenât I dead?â
Kira. Lightâs eye twitched. She did that. At every chance, dropping with such nonchalance that she knew. If he argued back, she would ignore him. If he defended himself, it would get him nowhere.
Ignore, deflect, probe, find a weak point.
âIs it a fake name? Is Y/N L/N a fake name?â It would be hard to believe; it would be beyond elaborate. Every ounce of documentation would need to have been faked, or else perfectly stolen, with a complete erasure of who the girl really was. Not a single piece of contradictory evidence. Enough to completely fool Japanâs most esteemed private eye. It was almost unfathomable.
âNo, itâs not a fake name. Thatâs my name. My real name. Youâre right.â She spun on her heel and walked forward, into the sun, toward campus, sunlight streaking through the wisps in her hair. âBut you canât kill me with it, Kira.â
Light refused to answer. He refused to concede. He refused to show his hand, and yet, maybe he already had⊠Maybe heâd already lost.
Heâd try again tonight. Heâd try again as many times as it took to eliminate her, this unfathomable girl, who appeared in his uni classroom claiming to be an old elementary school classmate of his, who followed him every day and spoke in hints that suggested she knew, and yet never revealed how, or why, or what she wanted from him.
Heâd try again. Heâd kill her this time.
âIt wonât work, trying again, that is. If you want to kill me, youâll have to use your own hands.â She glanced over her shoulder at him. âBut thatâs messy, and suspicious, and too easy to solve, right? So you need the Death Note to do away with me. But it wonât work.â
Death Note, dammit, she really DID know.
âHey Light, whatâs my name?â
âY/N, L/N,â he ground out, almost robotically.
âSay it again.â
âY/N, L/N.â
âAnd what name did you write in the Death Note?â
Light hesitated. Did he stand any chance of keeping his hand concealed?
He locked eyes with her, and he knew the answer was no. She knew. He knew.
âY/N L/N.â
âDoesnât sound quite right, does it?â she asked. And with her words, Light felt some unsettled something thud in his chest. A disquiet. An unrest. A thinly veiled wrongness.
âMy name, that name, Y/N L/N, how do you spell it?â she asked.
âYâŠâ Light paused. Y? No⊠That was almost certainly not right.
âFirst letter, second letter, third letter. Come on. I believe in you.â
A headache was building behind Lightâs eyes.
âYâŠ. S-slashâŠ. NâŠâ No. That wasnât a name. That wasnât anyoneâs name. And it wasnât her name. Her name, her name wasâ
âYou canât spell it, Light. You canât. And no one can. No one except an extremely, intractably lucky person could even guess what my name might be, at the time that all of this plays out.â
âWhat does that mean?â
âWhat do I look like, Light? The Death Note needs a mental image! What do I look like?â
And Light looked. He looked directly at her, piercing, probing, roving, studying, drinking her in. She looked exactly as he remembered, with H/C hair and E/C eyes andâŠ.
What color hair?
What color eyes?
What name?
âIâm not anyone, Light,â she offered with the same, sweetly saccharine smile that Light could not describe beyond those words. âOr Iâm everyone, I guess. Iâm every Y/N L/N who reads this, any one of them. And when the dust settles, and the story stabilizes, and those markers are replaced for real, it will be too late. Because that will not be the name you wrote in your Death Note. Youâll always have written Y, and slash, and N, and L, and slash, and N, and that will never be right. Iâll be someone else by the time it matters, every time.â
Light blinked through the stars in his vision. Looking at her hurt, his vision wobbling in and out of focus on the nothing, and the everything she was. The hair color, and the eye color, and the first name, and the last name, that were every potential quantum combination, and still none of them.
He shut his eyes.
âWhat do you want from me?â he asked. âWhy are you following me? Why do you know who I am. What do you want?â
âNothing. I want nothing. I donât have a defined will. Itâs not like Iâm a person.â She stepped forward again, hands clenched to the bag behind her back. A normal school bag, a normal school uniform, trotting in step eastward toward the college campus. âIâm an insert. And that means Iâm whoever they want me to be, every time. Itâs not any deeper than that.â
synopsis: marriage is nigh for someone your age and with society's expectations of you, how long will you have to keep waiting for him?
content: 18+ nsfw, mdni, angst w comfort, fluff, she/her pronouns for reader, he/she pronouns for mizu, patriarchal views on women, arranged marriage, jealousy, use of sex toys, idiots in love
a/n: part 2 of nocturne (interlude)!! this is for that anon who was on their finals week (ur req got deleted i h8 tumblr) and to those who requested for a part 2 !!! a reward for your hard work
Your relationship with Mizu was ... interesting.
After what happened that day, your relationship progressed into a deeper sense of connection. He was attracted to you as much as you were attracted to him. A fact that made your fingers tingle with anticipation every time he came down to your village under the guise of getting more medicine.
Your father had no complaints as business is business and provided him with what he needed, although you could see the occassional side eyes that your father gives him every time he stays longer than he was supposed to be. It was a comical sight indeed.
Mizu helped you out as much as he couldâwhether it be mundane house chores or taxing ones that require hard labor or a change of locations, he was down to accompany you in any way.
While yes, his efforts of providing you aid sent a surge of butterflies down your stomach, what ultimately led you to hammering a nail in the coffin was the subtle touches that he gave you.
You knew he knew and he knew that he was being smug about it. While it didn't show on his face, his eyes told it all. Whether it be passing by and gently placing a hand on the small of your back to excuse himself out of your way as if there wasn't a 2-meter space to your right or the brushing of fingers when he lent you something or if he's being bold enough, especially when your father's not looking, outright pretending that there was a fabric stuck on your hairpin and so he leans in close to you only to place a kiss on your cheekâhe always has to have some sort of skinship with you during the day. It often left you struggling for words or having a flushed face.
"Dear," Your father furrows his eyebrows as he eyes your flushed cheeks. You tense in his gaze as he glances at Mizu who appears calm as he takes a sip of his drink. The blue-eyed samurai had done it againâsaw an opening and took it like he was meant for it. He fooled you into thinking that your hair was out of place and offered to fix it. Your father had stepped out to get the food and you had hoped that he stayed somehow so that you wouldn't have to deal with all this bullcrap. Mizu took the chance to grab your chin and place a kiss on your lips. Your father came back shortly and you haven't relaxed since. "You don't look alright. Do you want me toâ?"
"I-It's fine, Dad!" You intercept, hands raised as you shake no. "The soup was just... hot."
You glance at Mizu who looks at you from the side of his eye. He smirks over his cup.
It was safe to say that Mizu was also mischievous by nature. Despite his usual calm and cool demeanor, you didn't expect the man before you to be quite playful when it came to just between the two of you.
You did all these things, said all those things, looked at each other with things unspoken of and you're quite sure that your relationship was susceptible to the one thing you're quite sure would lead to.
Marriage.
A want for some, a necessity for many. You'd think that in your years of living in this town that you'd find a partner suitable for marriage and you did! Just a little bit later than others.
You had expected that... Mizu would propose. After all, what comes after dating but marriage? Your father and mother did that, your aunts, uncles, cousins, hell, even your friends already got married albeit some of them out of their own will.
You dreamed of having a true love marriage. One that you could be yourself and never have to be ashamed of loving someone despite their stature in life. One that you could coexist with and that could never demean your existence as a woman. You knew those things were far fetched from reality but everyone wishes to dream right?
You had tried discreetly asking about it, curious as to why he barely mentions anything but he only casts you an unreadable look on his face then a soft smile.
He kissed the back of your hand with a gentle touch, softness mirroring that of a snowflake's descent.
"... I can't," He says. You're not sure as to why he sounded in pain, like something was troubling him but you knew better than to pry. "Not right now."
So you let it go.
The first instance that brought up the onslaught of problems that would soon arise was the arrival of a proposal from the south. It came in the form of a letter, writings neatly imprinted on fine parchmentârolled with the delicacy that of a noble.
It was times like this that you felt the other half of the relationship. Like there was still a barrier you couldn't decipher between you. Why he often looks secretive with your father at times or why he falls silent at the most random of moments. There was something you didn't know and it often aches you that you couldn't be able to understand him unless you knew the inner workings of his mind.
You could see your father's nervous glance as the messenger read what was sent to him. You could hear bits and pieces of the arrangement, hands wringing each other in anxiety as your eyes trained on your father's back. Mizu had not arrived that day and normally, you would fret over such things but your father casts a glance at you over his shoulder and suddenly everything seems to have changed its course.
"Father," You pant as you gather the ends of your kimono, trying to match the pace of your patriarch as he travels all over the house. He seems to not be at rest from the talk with the messengerâa perpetual stone-cold look plastered on his face. "Father!"
He enters the part of your house you haven't gone to in ages. Not because you despised it but because you were afraid that the spirit that once dwelled in its abode would arise and look at you with those same eyes that once held all the love and memories when you were but a wee girl. You hesitate at the entrance but decide to follow him through.
"Not right now, Y/N," He mumbles, agitated as he crouches over a chest and begins digging through the array of clothes. Your eyebrows furrow.
"WhatâWhat did he say?" You stammer as you stand to his left, eyes watching his every move as he frantically rummages through the fabrics. "Father, I haveâI need to know."
Your father pauses, defeatedly slumping against the chest as his fingers tap against the wooden surface in thought. Silence ensues between the two of you and suddenly he turns to you with a sympathetic look on his face. Your blood runs cold.
"Lord Shimizuâ" He pauses, catching himself stammering as he looked into those eyes that were fruition of shared dreams and a love he hasn't forgotten in ages. "He asked for your hand in marriage."
You stare at him with a shaky gaze, breath going in and out as you tried to process his response.
"Then-Then tell him no," Your eyebrows furrow. Your father falls silent at your words. "Tell him like you've always told the others."
"I can't, Y/N," He whispers, tone shifting into despair. Your shoulders are low as he lowers his head in shame.
"What do you mean you can't?"
"I can't," He emphasizes his words once more, eyes darting up to meet yours. "I have always tried to protect you but I can't this time."
Your face falls in desperation as you kneel down with him. You grab his hands in an attempt to convince him once more.
"Father, please, I can'tâI don't even know him!" You plead as your grip on his callous fingers tightens. He looks at you with sadness. "Please Father, I'll do anything, just don'tâ"
"Y/N," He cuts you off with a stern voice. You fall silent as you wait for his response. "This man is from Kyoto. While the men here fear my stature as a medic, this man has access to professionals far greater than me. He doesn't regard me as someone important and if I dare raise my voice, we might as well be dead."
Your figure tenses at his words. He grabs your arms in an attempt to comfort you. In a last attempt to get him to decline the offer, you say the thoughts that have been at the forefront of your mind.
"I'm in love with Mizu," Your voice comes out in a whisper, eyes wide and tears welling up. He tenses at your confession, eyebrows furrowing at the implications.
"Youâ"
"Father, I love him." Your voice comes out in a desperate attempt to get him to see you. Your hands raise to touch his arm but he suddenly raises to his feet, taking a few steps back. Your heart speeds up at his reaction.
"Is that why heâ?" Your father whispers out in thought. You're not sure if he was angry or disappointed, but you're quite sure that this was a bad thing. His face contorts into a look of anger as he continues to look at you with a hardened gaze. "When was this?"
"You told me you wanted me to have a true love marriage, FatherâThis is it!" You look up at him with a defiance so strong that it almost gives your father a whiplash of how similar it looked. He falters in his stance but remains rooted to his cause.
"I know but not toâ!" He catches himself at the end of his sentence. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion. He runs a hand through his face before sighing. "Not like this. Not to him. Not Mizu, Y/N."
Your eyebrows furrow in anger at his words. "You can't dictate what I feel for him."
There's a moment of silence as your father casts you an unreadable look on his face. You thought that your father might approve of Mizu. They after all started at the same steps and eventually grew to the path they were destined for, albeit in different fields. You're not quite sure as to what led to this defiance against your choice for marriage but it already has you intruiged.
"The messenger talks of praises of Lord Shimizu," Your father diverts the conversation. "I also hear that he is a general and part of the Emperor's Kingsguard. He is of noble stature and earned his keep. He is a man fitting of your deserving."
You fall silent at his words before finally rising to your height and dusting off your kimono. You glance at the chest, eyeing the white fabric that pops out of an array of multicolored ones. You turn back to your father.
"You raised me to not be a hypocrite," Your voice is stone cold. Your father flinches at the tone. "I expected you to not be one as well."
With that you left.
The days were grueling.
Presents after presents were sent to your doorstep and while you wish that you could throw them all away, your father accepted them and kept them in the storage, still neatly wrapped for you to open.
Mizu had also arrived less and less over the past couple of days. He usually stays for more than an hour but now he leaves within the 30-minute mark. You felt like your time had been severed into bits and pieces after your fight with your father. You saw them talking, hushed in the receiving area. You expected your father to berate him for influencing his own daughter but their relationship remained civil. In fact, after his talk with your father was what prompted fewer visits and only coming for business.
He also became distant. Little to no skinshipâsometimes even none at all. He talks to you in that cold tone of his and even grunts in annoyance when you try to bother him into coming with you to window shop in town.
You thought they were being unfair. That they could freely do things like this beyond your knowledge. Watch you crumble into a pit of despair at the concept of what you believed was the essence of true love. How naĂŻve were you.
The final straw came when Mizu stayed a little bit longer than usual. He was swift with his purchase but remained seated at the tree located just outside your humble abode.
You approached him with soft steps, eyes trained on his head devoid of his kasa and the usual orange tinted glasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He looked handsome.
"Why are you like this?" Your voice cuts through the silence, direct and swift as a breeze passes through you. You see the familiar curl on his forehead, swishing back and forth before settling down.
Mizu does not reply for a few seconds before finally responding. "Like what?"
Your breath shakes at his nonchalance. "Like everything's back from the start."
Mizu pauses before turning his head to look at you standing behind him. There's a long duration of silence between you, eyes only locked with each other as the breeze fills in the void.
"Y/N," Your name escapes his lips like a prayer. You will yourself not to fold. "I didn't mean toâ"
"Didn't mean to what?"
He rises up from his seat on the ground, grabbing his Kasa in the process. He examines the item, eyeing the material woven intricately to form its shape. You could tell that there were a lot of things in his mind. You could only wait until he decided to break down the walls he built up so high.
"I didn't mean it to be this way." He finally looks at you in the eye, those beautiful shades of blue hidden by a tint of orange. He pauses himself before a change of expression is plastered on his face. "I think it's best if we stop here."
Your breath hitches. "What?"
"I said what I said," He mutters in that neutral tone of his, devoid of emotion. You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. "I... I am on a journey and I have wishes to accomplish. I operate on circumstances that prove to be unlawful. It's best that you don't associate yourself with me. I was too distracted to begin with."
Distracted? Is that what he thought all of this was about? Your hands shake in anger as your eyes darted any sort of giveaway that he might just be joking with you. The world was pinning its blame on your shoulders and now you have to receive the consequences of its actions.
You purse your lips, stopping yourself from bawling then and there. You can't give him the satisfaction of seeing yourself in a mess. You refuse.
You turn around without responding, making hasty steps towards your home before halting once more. You turn to see him putting on his Kasa, eyes in a daze. Upon feeling your stare at him, he turns back towards you. His gaze falters.
"I'm sorry." He says.
You could never will out the words you should've said.
Lord Shimizu came on the 3rd day of the week. He wasn't what you expected him to be.
Naturally, nobles of that standing would appear to be egocentric maniacs who dabbled and flaunted their wealth in various entertainment establishments. They act crass and speak crass as if their authority gives me the pass to be an asshole to everybody.
You thought to yourself, this man could have anybody that he wanted. He was a general, a skilled warrior, and a candidate for marriage to Japan's array of elegant and noble women. Why would he pick a humble medic's daughter all the way from Takayama?
Well, the answer finally came to you in flesh instead.
"L-Lord Shimizu!" Your father stammers over his words as a young man, your age enters the establishment. You take a step back towards the panel of the receiving area, slightly shielding yourself from the onslaught of 3-4 men entering the place. "I didn't expect you to be here."
The man does not respond yet, his eyes wander the interior of the establishment before finally settling on you. You flinch back at the intensity of his stare. Your father notices his attention on you before clearing his throat.
"Y/N?" He calls over, eyes meeting with yours as he beckons you over. You grumble under your breath before making hesitant steps to your father's side. "Ah yes, this is Y/N Gojo. My daughter. Y/N, this is Lord Shimizu Kaito."
Your eyes peer up at him underneath your lashes, trying to take a peek at his face. Shimizu flashes you a soft smile before bowing in greeting.
"Apologies for not having been able to meet before. The Emperor had requested me to attend to several cases in various cities. I hope that you and Y/N can forgive my tardy appearance." His voice is proper and elegant but you could only scoff at his words. Apparently, it was loud enough for him, your father, and the two other guards stationed behind him to hear. Your father elbows your waist.
"Apologies for my daughter," He sheepishly smiles. "She seems to have a... cold."
He eyes you with a strict look on his face which you turn to look away at. Just as you wished for all of this to be over, a wave of a hand catches your attention. You turn to look at Shimizu who softly smiles at you once more.
"I know this proposal is sudden but I hope you can give me a chance." He says, voice and tone genuine. You hesitantly purse your lips at his words. "I'll be staying around this time. I hope I can get to know you."
Lord Shimizu stayed true to his word. The past few days were nothing but him trying to get to know you as an individual. He was nice, accommodating, and even dare say, a proper friend you could talk to.
He helped you out in chores, got you gifts, had tea with you, learned your ways, and walked with you in town. If you were the person you were before, you could've deemed this man the perfect match for you.
While you appreciated his eagerness in wanting to get to know you, you also can't help but be reminded of a certain blue-eyed boy every time he did something remotely similar. He talks of his travels, his blade, his peers, his interests, and you're brought back to the time Mizu let you hold his blade in your palms, brought you trinkets from his previous adventure, talked to you about his annoying apprentice, or that he prefers his soba to have a little bit more soup in ratio to his noodles.
Everything remind you of him.
Mizu had not visited in a while. You tried asking about him to your father if he ever came to get medicine but your father denies every question.
Sometimes you catch glimpses of a familiar Kasa roaming the town streets but is only mistaken by a wandering traveler. You're not too sure how long it would take for you to lose your wits about everything.
Sensing the troubling thoughts that plagued your mind, Shimizu offered for you both to take a stroll in town at night and shop for trinkets that you might find interesting to place in your room. He tried his best to keep you entertained, asking about your interests, making you laugh, all that stuff.
The question that prompted you at the start of his arrival began to urge you to put forth a topic for conversation. You wait for Shimizu to finish his words before finally dropping the question.
"Why me?" You ask, eyes gazing into his as he halts at the question. He blinks a couple of times, not able to process the question.
"What?"
"Why me, my lord?" You repeat, hands clutching your satchel. "I am but a mere servant's daughter. You could have anyone."
He licks his lips eyebrows furrowing. "But you are someone."
You raise your eyebrows, urging for him to continue. The man takes a breath, looking around before finally settling his eyes on you.
"I..." He starts off, words trailing as he gazes into your eyes. He continues. "I came here before. As a child."
Your eyes widen at the revelation.
"People talk of a man named Gojo-sensei who was able to remedy almost all illnesses. I was sickly and my condition was worsening." He responds. The city lanterns glow beautifully behind his figure, laughter of children, men, and women alike provides solace in the void of silence between you. "I remember coming in there and seeing you. Seeing your father then..."
He trailed off like he was remembering something painful.
"I remember a lady," His face softens at the thought. Your eyebrows furrow. "While your father did the aiding, this woman had brought me comfort. I was never really coddled and treated with such gentleness back home. I was an only childâa firstborn son. Being soft and dependent was out of the vocabulary."
You fall silent at his words as he looks down at his hands.
"She... she stayed by my side. Fed me, clothed me, made sure I was okay." He looked up at you. "I saw you sometimes, clinging to the ends of her kimono."
A chilling realization surges through your veins. Your silence prompts him to continue.
"I heard the news that she passed away years ago. I wasn't able to come due to my duties but I am indebted to her." He says. "Then, when I visited a month ago. I saw youâa spitting image."
Your breath shakes at the words. "You proposed to me because I looked like my mother?"
Shimizu looks down in shame, hands wringing in nervousness. "I thought that if I married you, I'd be able to receive that same love again."
You let out a breath of disbelief. While the topic of your mother wasn't something you detested talking about, her memory still was something you were quite hesitant to approach. You remember her sickly figure, her weak smile, the day your father broke. It was as if you threaded lightly along the edges of her carved path, wanting to preserve what was left of her image.
You take a step back, eyes looking at him in disbelief. Shimizu falters in his stance.
"I'm sorry, this isn't going to work." You softly mutter, shaking your head. Just as you take another step back, Shimizu panics and tries to grab your hand.
"Y/N, let me explain Iâ"
A swift change of air alerts you of a new presence and suddenly you feel deja vu. You turn your head to meet the familiar stance of a man you didn't expect to see again.
"I believe she said no." Mizu's voice is authoritative and deep, hand encasing Shimizu's wrist. The man furrows his eyebrows at Mizu who squints back a glare.
"Who are you?! Your jurisdiction?" Shimizu demands. He tries to pull his wrist away only to be met by a steel force. Mizu scoffs.
"I won't let you go until you promise to stay 10 meters away from her." Mizu threatens. Shimizu sweat drops, eyes glancing down at the hand gripping his wrist to the eyes shielded by tinted glasses. Your eyes dart back and forth between the two, afraid that a fight might brawl out and you're not in the mood to see blood spilled.
Shimizu was also a general and if word comes out that one of the Emperor's trusted military aides got injured by someone lower of his stature, your father will definitely pay for the consequences. You rush towards them and grab Mizu's hand to break them apart.
"Let him go," You say. Mizu turns to you with furrowed eyebrows. Your eyes soften, and you nod softly in reassurance. "Let him go, its okay.
Mizu hesitantly lets the man go and Shimizu stumbles back, holding his wrist. Mizu turns to you in concern, hand grabbing your arm as he examines you. "Are you alright?"
You nod, flustered by his attention. "I'm fine."
Feeling Shimizu's stare on you, you look back at the man to see hurt and a realization spread across his face. Your gaze falters.
He clears his throat and fixes his stance. "Apologies, Y/N. It seems that I have miscalculated my approaches. Forgive me for my behavior."
"It's alright, my lord," You respond. Mizu stands menacingly beside you, eyes trained on his figure. Shimizu glances at him and then at you. He smiles.
"It was nice being your friend," He says. He bows as respect. You curtsy back, albeit shaky. "I'll leave as requested. I wish you luck."
He leaves without turning back. You watch as he gets lost in the crowd, the breeze gently swinging your clothes back and forth. The lanterns dazzle the streetsâperforming a pretense of joy. You take a breath before finally facing the last of your problems.
Mizu stands there, eyes already looking at you with an unreadable look on his face. Your eyes soften.
"What are you doing here?" You mumble, lacking the energy to even be angry. Mizu shifts in his stance.
"I came back." He answers vaguely.
"For what?"
There a pause of silence before he moves to remove his Kasa. You can see his face clearly now, albeit those beautiful eyes of his still covered by his glasses.
"For you." He says. He gulps as if nervous and your eyes widen at his confession.
"But I thought you saidâ"
"I was a coward," He says. He heaves a breath. "I have loved before and shown them everything and yet I have ruined them. I was afraid that I mightâthat I might ruin you with what I am."
You fall silent at his words. You were confused, you had already seen what others claim to be the worst of himâin fact, that was what you loved most about his features. Eyes that seem to hold the watersâa depiction of nature. Just as he is about to continue, cheers erupt from the central town, you flinch as the others begin to gather to watch the amusement happening. Mizu, sensing your uneasiness, pulls you towards a nearby alleyâdark and hidden from the public eye. He places you against the wall, eyes watching for passersby that might lurk in while your eyes are trained on his face.
You watch with admiration as his eyebrows furrow in their usual curl, those eyes that squint into a glare, chapped lips, and the glasses that begin to slowly fall down the bridge of his nose. Unable to resist the urge, you give in.
"Coast isâ"
Mizu's eyes widen at the feeling of your lips against his. You cup his cheeks, pulling him down as you encase your arms over his neck. Mizu wastes no time in reciprocating the kiss. He kisses back with the same fervor, hand dropping his Kasa in favor of encasing your waist as he pulls you towards his figure. You whine as you feel his tongue intertwine with yours.
After a few pecks and kisses, you both finally pull away. There's a hushed silence of panting as Mizu places his forehead against yours.
"I am not being truthful," Mizu whispers, breath hitting your lips. "But I want to try. With you."
You smile, hands cupping his cheeks as you rub your thumbs across the surface of his skin.
"I want you as you are," You reassure him. "No matter the flaw, no matter what you tell me. I'll be here with you."
Mizu lowers his head and drops it to burrow against your neck. He hugs you close as fireworks bells and instruments begin playing. He pulls back softly before facing you with vulnerability.
"I..." He starts off. "I am not what you think I am."
You tilt your head in confusion as you encase his hands in yours. Your thumbs run over the scar that you've bandaged from before.
"I'm not a... a man." Mizu finally reveals. You pause, eyes blinking as you watch his reaction for any sort of context. Mizu purses his lips before pulling his glasses away, tucking in the side of his clothing before reaching up to pull at his top knot. You watch as his hairâno, her hair flows to her shoulders and then suddenly everything makes sense.
Mizu's breath shakes at your silence. "I-I cannot give you what you wantâ"
She falls silent as you lean forward to take notice of her features. The flush that adorns her cheeks and the eyes that entranced you from the start. A smile bursts from your lips.
"You're just as I dreamed of," You whisper in awe. Your hands make its way to wrap around her neck as you press yourself close to her. Mizu's face flushes at your words.
Your eyes trace the edges of her features, face contorted in a soft expression. There's a moment of silence before you finally continue. "My father wanted me to have a true love marriage. All my life, the idea of falling in love has always been my dream as a child."
Mizu blinks softly at your words, listening to your every thought.
"And now that I have it, I can understand why my father wanted me to do so," You smile, leaning your forehead against hers. "Marry me, Mizu. I just want to be yours."
The blue-eyed girl erupts into a smile, leaning forward and capturing your lips in hers. You reciprocate with the same intensity, fingers burying in her raven locks. Mizu then pulls away.
"I'll always say yes to you."
"Do we really have to do this?"
Mizu eyes your figure seated on the tatami, eyes peering up at her as she stands in front of you. You giggle at her hesitance.
"Of course!" You grin. "Consummation between man and wife is a must tradition after marriageâwell in our case, wife and wife."
Mizu rolls her eyes as she sits down in front of you. She props her knee up and places her arm on top of it. She grabs the cup of tea perched on the small table beside her and takes a sip. "Consummation is done with the idea of children, love. I'm sure you're well aware of that."
You pout before an idea arises in your mind. You lean forward, going on your knees as you crawl towards her. Mizu pauses mid-sip as she watches you with careful eyes. You grab her cup, placing it down on the table as she continues to watch your every move. You settle on her lap, the slit of your dress revealing your thighs. Mizu's breath shakes.
You take her glasses off and place them on the table before finally focusing on her, arms propped on her shoulders. You feel her hands cup your hips as you stare down at her with a smile.
"What?" You taunt. "You don't wanna fuck me?"
Mizu pauses, eyes widening before she lets out a grown and lowers her head to your clavicle. You giggle as she takes a few moments to calm herself down. Finally, pulling away to face you, Mizu looks at you with her blue eyes clouded with lust.
"You are one dangerous lady, know that?" Mizu leans forward. You grin as you rub your nose against hers.
"Mhm," You say. "My wife told me so."
"Ah fuck! Fuck!" You whimper as you grab the sheets behind you, trying to find some sort of stability from the onslaught of ministrations Mizu's giving you. "W-WaitâMizu-WaiâNgh!"
You're afraid that the toy one of your close friends gave you as a congratulations gift to your marriage would be too crass for your night with Mizu. You only brought it to tease her after all. You just didn't expect how much she'd be turned on by it.
"Where are you going?" Mizu's voice is deep and taunting as she watches you claw at the sheets, trying to get away from the intense pleasure. She grabs your waist and pulls you back down towards her, folding your legs to your chest. "You wanted this, why are you backing out, hm? You wanted to consummate so here we are."
She watches as the thick girth and length of her strap pushes in and outâcoated with your essence. The noises from it are slick and noisy, causing you to flush in embarrassment. God fucking damn.
"So fucking pretty, aren't ya?" Mizu chuckles as she pushes her hips. She lets out a moan, feeling the other end of the dildo pushing deep with her. You whimper as Mizu presses deep, the tip of her cock bumping against that spot of yours. "So so pretty for me, aren't you momma?"
You shiver at the nickname, hands coming down to grab Mizu's lean arms, flexing as she speeds up her thrusts, making sure that its the spot right.
"You've been adamant about this all morning. Especially, after the wedding." Mizu growls, slamming her hips against yours. "You want my kids that bad?"
You're too lost in the pleasure, moans and garbles of her name only coming out of your mouth. Mizu smiles, hair falling down her shoulders and framing her face as she props herself up on top of you.
"If you want it so bad, I'll give it to you," Mizu leans down to bury her face on your neck, sucking a few marks as she begins to speed up her thrusts.
"Oh! Oh!" You whine as the spot inside of you becomes more sensitive with each bump. Mizu pays no mind to your sounds, reveling in the way your nails rake through her back. She smirks against your skin, licking down until she encases your nipple within her mouth. You moan at the feeling, hands reach up to bury itself in her raven locks.
"I'm close! I-Iâplease!" You plead as her constant torture of your cunt begins to teeter at the edge. Mizu pants heavily as she places a soft kiss behind your ear.
"I am too." Her breath shakes as her hips falter. It doesn't take long before you climax, body arching and shivering from the intensity of the pleasure. Tears begin streaming down your face as you twitch with each thrust she gives you. She smiles placing a soft kiss on your lips. "Good girl."
Mizu follows shortly behind, coming in grunts and low moans before slumping down against you. There's a moment of reprieve before Mizu props herself up once more to take a look at your afterglow.
You smile up at her, hand coming up to brush her hair over her ear. Mizu leans against your touch.
"I love you." You mumble softly. Mizu gazes into your eyes with a love so true that it warms your very being.
"I love you too."
a/n: mwehheheheheeh hope yall enjoyed that <3 not proofread will do it later mwehe
(((This one got kind of, I don't know how to describe it other than I made my own heart sink. Yikes.)))
Possible Triggers: To cover it, there's one explicit sentence about SA. And Mizu has a breakdown.
âMy son told me he spotted that OnryĆ that was seen outside the village.â You hear an older manâs voice a couple tables away as he sits down.
A second one answers, âThe guards said he had a woman with him.â
The first man speaks quieter, in a hardened voice. âTruly?â
âYes. The poor thing was following so close to it. Do your u think sheâs controlled by it?â
You take a sip of your tea slowly, staring out the window as the last of the sunâs rays pull away from the street outside.
âBut OnryĆ donât enslave people, only torment or kill them, donât they?â
âMaybe this one desired the girl for worse things.â
Thereâs an eerie lull in the two menâs conversation, imagining the horror of a demon growing in strength and lust for evil.
Your eyebrows furrow, and you stop the condescending sigh thatâs rising in your chest.
âHow would it even do that?â
Out of the corner of your eye you see the second man lean closer to his companion. âMaybe he ate her heart.â
Your fingers tighten on your cup, your mouth forming a thin line from how your body is slowly tensing up in anger.
âThink about it,â he continued, painting the scene. âThe heart chakra is the center of compassion, empathy, forgiveness. An OnryĆ?â He chuckles darkly, shaking his head. âItâd tear it right from her chest and swallow it into his empty stomach. Instantly sheâs tied to it forever, forced to follow the monster that has her heart and suffer itâs desires.â
You take a shaky breath through your nose, setting your cup down. Your stomach is tensing from the urge to find the nearest teapot and just upend the burning liquid over their heads with a impassive face as they scream and burn.
Youâre about to stand up when a hand, slender but rough, wraps around your shoulder. A kasa blocks your side view of the men. A familiar pair of lips find their way to the spot behind your ear. âIâm done. Letâs get back to the room,â they murmur.
You try to tilt your head around her large hat to set your hardened eyes on the men again. You estimate if you could successfully make it over there before she grabs you.
âDonât.â
You turn and look into blue eyes hidden by orange lenses.
âIâve heard worse,â she utters plainly, glancing outside to see a passing guard. Her hand goes to the hilt of her sword.
The ends of her fingers trail down from your shoulder to press over your heart, feeling it beat under her touch.
A murmur. âLetâs go. Now.â
She guides you with a hand on the small of your back through the tables. You turn and stare with barely contained disgust at the men as you pass by, and it infuriates you when they donât even notice.
Only a handful of steps away from them the first one blows out a deep breath. A low laugh. âMaybe if we follow the screams of a woman being savagely raped by a monster in the night we can kill it.â
Mizuâs steps slow to a stop.
Your lungs forget how to breathe.
Her hand wraps around your waist with the lightest touch.
The tearoom is so quiet. Your head slowly turns and see that the men are the last ones in there.
âGo back to the room,â her voice is so calm you feel an icy flush dart from your ears, down your neck and rapidly crawl over your spine. Itâs that instinctual alarm when a dangerous being is near.
And now, after you felt your own moment of quivering anger, youâre forced to remember what true rage matured by decades of time looks like.
âMi-â
Her grip tightens to a painful point, and you wince. âNow.â
Her thumb flicks the first several inches of her sword out of the sheath, the metal reflecting the red glow of candlelight.
Her eyes are staring straight ahead, but you know where her attention is now.
When you hesitate too long, she shoves you toward the door. You stumble, your head turning back to glance at the oblivious men. So unaware.
When you stare back at Mizu, her face is impassive. The candlelight in the tea house lights up the orange of her lenses, obscuring your ability to see her eyes anymore.
Itâs just flames.
Youâve been pacing your room since you got back. The sky outside has lost the last traces of light.
The last time Mizuâs face was that eerily blank was months ago out in the woods. Ringo was off gathering herbs for dinner when Mizu sat beside you in front of the fire. She hadnât said a word to either of you for hours.
Her hand had gone to your knee. âYou asked me about my mother once,â she had started.
You hesitated, catching on to the weight of this impending conversation. âYes.â
And then it all came out. She didnât look at you once, staring into the fire the entire time. You donât recall her even blinking as she laid everything out bare for you. Her hand clenched tighter and tighter on your knee as she spoke, her arm quivering.
There was only a few seconds between when she finished and Ringo appearing in the tree line again, shouting happily about what he found. You didnât get a chance to say anything, her hand leaving your knee cold as she quickly retreated to the other side of camp without a word.
Your eyebrows furrow as you silently chew at your nail, your other arm wrapped around your middle.
âMaybe I should go find Ringo.â
The two of you should go back and look for Mizu. Itâs been too long.
You take several hurried steps toward the door when you hear the window slide open behind you, and the chill of the wind rushes in.
You turn, watching Mizuâs blood soaked body climb through the small window. Her sheath makes a muffled thump as she throws it into the room so she can heave herself in.
The blood soaked sheath leaves a short streak of red along the floor from where it slid to a stop.
Mizuâs feet settle on the ground, and she leans back against the open window with a neutral expression. Itâs not like the one before, this one is her natural resting expression that isnât devoid of life. A relief.
Her indifferent expression is normal. The blood soaking into her clothes is normal. The blood splattered across her face is normal.
Her red rimmed eyes are not normal.
She tilts her chin up at you and quirks an eyebrow as your gaze meets.
As if to say, âWhat?â
MizuâŠ
You silently walk closer, and you see how she leans back against the window as you do. Her bloodied hands clench around the windowsill.
Her eyes harden as you get closer, her jaw clenching. Warning.
But your eyes remain soft, open, unguarded. You reach out and cup the sides of her torso. Unafraid.
Your hands slowly smooth down her sides to her waist and back up. Back down. Again and again. Around her back where youâve memorized each scar.
She silently, desperately tries to grasp for the last of her stoicism. But her grinding teeth begin to chatter, chest hitching with broken breathes. Her knuckles turn white with how hard sheâs gripping the windowsill behind her.
You pry one hand off the window, and it takes several pulls on her wrist before she lets go.
Without breaking eye contact, you stare into her eyes as your hand guides hers to press against your heart. You fold your arms over hers, hugging her arm to your chest as your hand presses down on hers until she feels your heartbeat under her palm.
Constant and unwavering.
A singular, strangled sob tears from her tight throat and sheâs crumpling. Tears burn down her cheeks as her form doubles over with the force of her soul finally finding the weak point to break the dam.
Itâs you, itâs you, itâs always you and your love for her isnât it?
Your hand still holds hers tight to your heart as you follow her shaking frame sinking to the floor.
Blood is soaking into your clothes at every point she touches you.
Her head is hanging down between her shoulders, heaving in air more and more and more until she unclenches her jaw and release an ear splitting scream so loud your own teeth clamp shut.
All you can do is hold her until the screaming stops.
When her muscles finally unclench, and her breathing is only a little ragged, you guide her down to lay on her back with her head on your lap.
She blinks up at you, exhaustion lining her wet face. Itâs quiet again, so now youâre able to hear how your breathing is in sync.
Her hand, now cracking with dried blood, reaches up and curls around your wrist. Staring intently into your eyes, she guides it under her haori to her own heartbeat.
Blinking away your own tears, you lean over and press your lips to hers.
She closes her eyes as the weight of your hand settles there, and stays.
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