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It had only been a few months since you moved into a smaller village far from Inazuma's capital.
You were looking for a brand new start, away from your overly religious parents, who worshipped the Raiden Shogun as if she had actually done anything good for the nation. You harbored a deep-seated loathing for her since childhood, grimacing at the sight of countless shrines and trinkets that adorned Inazuma City in her honor. You reached your breaking point when whispers spread of her intention to clamp down on travel, threatening to cage you with your family forever. Imagining your life trapped with your family…
No, you had to escape. Immediately. So you packed your bags, took the mora you made from your various part time jobs, and set out.
Initially, you planned to move to a whole different nation—Liyue, maybe even Fontaine if you were lucky. But fear engulfed your heart. You didn't know anyone there. You didn't despise your parents, and you did want to visit once in a while, but the thought of being under their watchful eyes constantly was suffocating. So you made the decision to stay in Inazuma, but in a remote village far away from the bustling city, where you could live freely and independently.
The village sprawled out before you, a tapestry of quaint cottages with thatched roofs and colorful shutters, nestled amidst lush greenery and blooming gardens. The villagers, their faces etched with lines of hard-earned wisdom, greeted each day with a steadfast dedication to their land, nurturing crops and livestock with a shared sense of community that embraced the village in a warm cocoon. The people of the village were simple old coots who had their own beliefs and traditions, but at least they weren't trying to control every aspect of your life like your parents or the Shogun. It was a relief to finally feel some sense of freedom and independence.
Every morning, you wandered down cobblestone paths lined with blooming cherry blossom trees, the scent of freshly baked pastries wafting from the village bakery, as you greeted the locals going about their daily tasks. Strangely enough, everyone seemed to help each other out without expecting anything in return. You tried your best to pay them back, though; you'd rather not have it weigh on your mind. You wrote letters back home, though the responses you got back dwindled. At least everyone was nice. A bit too nice. You kept your distance.
Everything seemed idyllic, like something out of a storybook, and for the first time in a long while, you felt truly at peace.
But then Arataki Itto entered the picture.
You had seen him around the village before, playing with the children in the village square and teaching them games, or causing mischief with his rowdy group of friends. Itto was…handsome, to say the least. He had long, white, spiky hair that fell down his back with two fiery streaks and piercing reddish eyes that seemed to see right through you. The man was tall and had broad shoulders, muscular from lugging around heavy bags of rice from the market. If you had to guess, he was around the same age as you.
He was scary. Although his looks were pleasing to the eye, it felt like if you started too long, he'd turn into an oni.
Itto was hard to miss with his boisterous laughter and larger-than-life personality, but you had never interacted with him beyond a passing nod or a polite smile.
So when he showed up at your doorstep one evening, his face flushed with excitement and his eyes shining with an almost feverish intensity, you were taken aback. Enough to try to slam the splintering door on his face. He caught the door just in time, his smile growing as he held it open with a firm grip.
"Hey there, sweetheart!" He exclaimed, his voice booming in the quiet of the evening. "I've got some great news! You've been chosen!"
Sweetheart? You blinked in confusion, unsure of what he was talking about. Or why he gave you such an oddly intimate nickname. "Chosen for what?"
Jeez, did they have scams all the way out here too? Did Itto get recruited into a pyramid scheme?
He grinned, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Chosen to be my spouse, of course!" he declared proudly, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.
Silence.
Your heart sank at his words, a sense of unease settling in the pit of your stomach. "I-I'm sorry, what?" you stammered, trying to wrap your head around what he was saying. "I don't understand." The both of you barely knew each other, and making jokes like this was out of place. Hell, you felt uncomfortable.
But Itto seemed oblivious to your confusion, his excitement only growing as he continued to speak. Your poor door almost looked like it was going to break off its hinges. "It's all part of the elders plan," he explained eagerly, gesturing animatedly with his (free) hand. "They've been searching for the perfect match for me, and when they saw you, they knew you were the one. I mean, you're kind, sweet, gentle—and so lovely with the kids! They're already enthralled with the idea of us having our own little family."
Before you could protest, Itto grabbed your hand, pulling you out of your house and into the night. You winced. His nails were long and sharp. "Come on, we've got a wedding to attend!" he exclaimed, his enthusiasm infectious despite your growing sense of dread.
"W-wait a second—!" You tried to speak, but Itto's exuberance was overwhelming, drowning out any protests or questions you had. His grip on your hand was firm, almost bruising, and his heavy steps were purposeful as he practically dragged you through the winding streets of the village.
You tried to pull away—or to slow him down—but Itto seemed utterly unfazed by your attempts. Instead, he chattered on excitedly about how honored he was to have been selected and how he couldn't wait for you to meet everyone. "You've been so shy, you know! Everyone's been trying to get to know you better," he exclaimed, flashing you a warm smile. "Though, personally, I'm happy you've been keeping to yourself. I'm a bit of a jealous type, you see."
Was he deranged?
The village square loomed ahead, lit by flickering torches and filled with murmuring shadows. As you entered the open space, you were greeted by a sea of faces, all turned expectantly toward you and Itto. Some beamed with genuine happiness, their eyes alight with joy, while others observed you with a mix of curiosity and subtle judgment. Most of them were familiar to you.
The village appeared breathtakingly beautiful under the moonlit sky, its ethereal charm casting a spell over the surroundings. The moonlight danced on the cobblestones, and there were flowers strewn across the square, their sweet scent lingering in the air. Children were playing; their giggles and screams were the only sounds breaking the peaceful atmosphere. You half expected them to scream that it was a joke and that this was a collective prank, but not one of them spoke.
Itto led you to the center of the square, where a makeshift altar had been erected, adorned with flowers and candles. A small group of elderly figures stood waiting, their expressions solemn and reverent.
You had never encountered them before in your entire time in the village.
"Our marriage will bring great blessings to the village; I just know it." Itto whispered, squeezing your hand tightly.
Before you could protest, before you could even fully process what was happening, the ceremony began. Words were spoken—though none from you—, vows exchanged, and before you knew it, you were standing beside Itto, his arm wrapped around your waist, as the villagers erupted in joyous cheers, their applause echoing through the square like thunder.
It all felt like a surreal nightmare, a hazy blur of confusion and disbelief. You wanted to scream, to run away, to demand answers, but you found yourself paralyzed by the weight of the situation.
Escape. This was meant to be your escape. You couldn't let yourself be captured again, not when you just managed to escape your family.
With that thought in mind, you finally sprinted off. People screamed and yelled after you, hands twisting in the air, but you kept running, desperate to escape the situation that felt like a trap closing in on you. You'd run back to the capital, then, as soon as you packed your bags. You'd apologize to your parents, state that you've learned the error of your ways, and they'd welcome you back with open arms. The cold wind whipped past your face as you ran towards the forest, towards your home—
"Aht, aht~!" A low, raspy voice interrupted your thoughts, and before you could react, a strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you back against a solid chest. Itto's chest. "Where do you think you're going, little lady?" His voice was low, almost a growl, and you could sense the rigid control in his body as he held you tightly against him. "You can't just run away from our special day."
Panic surged through you as you struggled against his hold, but Itto's grip only tightened, his fingers digging into your skin painfully. "Let me go!" you cried, your voice trembling with frustration. "This isn't right, Itto! I don't want this!"
"You don't have a choice, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice dangerously soft. "I already decided that it would happen, no matter what, the second I saw you. Thank the archons that the elders were on my side."
You shook your head. "Crazy…you're crazy…"
You felt his sharp teeth graze your nape, a sinister grin twisting his lips. "Maybe," he whispered, his breath hot against your skin. "But you'll see, this is for the best."
Ever since you were a little girl, you had always expected your wedding dress to be something magnificent.
You had always envisioned ordering a beautiful, flourishing uchikake with intricate embroidery and delicate beading—a true work of art that would take everyone's breath away. Your mother would decorate your hair, and your father would sing you songs and read you poems to calm your nerves. But now, as you stood in front of the mirror, wearing a simple lacy white nightgown that felt more like a prison uniform than a bridal gown, the dream slipped away from you.
Married. Were you married? You hadn't signed any official contract, but the weight of the ring on your finger and the memories of last night told you otherwise. Itto had forced you into a grand house, the decorations mismatched and gaudy, and the air heavy with the scent of incense. Last night was awful. He hugged you to sleep while murmuring something about consummating the marriage, but with your heart heavy and your mind clouded with doubt, you couldn't bring yourself to respond. He sighed, kissed your nape, and fell asleep beside you.
He left early this morning, leaving a note that he needed to pay his respective dues and that he'd be back by tonight. You practically went crazy, crying and screaming and trying to open the doors and the windows—but they wouldn't budge. There were no knives, no sharp objects, nothing to use to escape. If you didn't value your life, you would've used your bare hands to break free, falling onto the concrete. But you did value your life, so you wasted your day shaking in the room he provided you with until your eyes could shed no more tears.
As you stood in front of the mirror, staring at your reflection in the simple nightgown that Itto had provided, a sense of absurdity washed over you. This wasn't how it was supposed to be. You were supposed to feel beautiful and radiant on what was meant to be the happiest day of your life.
Yesterday, you got married in a dusty old kimono. You barely had a touch of makeup on. Somehow, that minor fact was enough to undo you.
You glanced down at the strange ring on your finger. It was an expensive-looking band, and you supposed he slid it on you while you were asleep, but you couldn’t take the damn thing off. Like it was cursed.
Itto's voice broke through your thoughts, his footsteps heavy as he approached from behind. "Ah, there you are, sweetheart," he said, his tone surprisingly gentle for someone who had just kidnapped you into marriage. "You look stunning."
Stunning? You scoffed inwardly, the bitter taste of sarcasm lingering on your tongue.
Paying your silence no mind, he stepped closer, his reflection melding with yours in the mirror. The keen, diamond-like pupils in his eyes glinted. "I waited all day for this. They were so cruel, making me spend time away from my wife already. But now we can finally be together."
Your heart hammered in your chest, fear and anger warring within you.
You turned to face him, your fists clenched at your sides. "I'm not your wife, Itto," you spat, your voice trembling with pent-up emotion. "I'm not your anything. You can't just force me into this—into this nightmare!"
His countenance fell into shadow, a veil of darkness descending over his sharp features. "Watch your tone, sweetheart," he warned, his voice low and dangerous. "You're mine now, whether you like it or not. And if you know what's good for you, you'll learn to play your part. After all, there's nothing out there for you except me."
You took a step back, your voice firm. "What do you mean by that?"
He smiled, sweet and kind. "Your family thinks of you as dead. For a month now, actually. All of your letters were intercepted by the rest of us. They already had a funeral with what they thought to be your remains. If you do go back, which you can't, you'll only be met with confusion and disbelief. And, ah, the villagers wouldn't let you go back home safe and sound, you see. Too much of a risk. It's better for everyone if you stay here with me."
You swallowed dryly. "H-Huh?"
"It's terrible. I mean, they knew where you lived, yet didn't come to check if you truly died. Or at least to come and collect your belongings." He chuckled softly. "Your family has moved on without you. It's time for you to do the same."
In this moment, you swore you could see red horns sprout from the top of his head. Truly, with his giant size and evil words, he was no short of a demonic yōkai.
Anger. Hot and white raged through you as you realized the extent of the deception. You wadded saliva in your mouth before spitting it at his cheek, watching as it dripped down his face. "You're a liar and a manipulator," you seethed. "I'll find my way back home, with or without your help."
Itto was stunned. You could feel your body trembling with rage, your lips parting in surprise as he began to laugh manically, a shrill giggle echoing through the room. It was pretty, like a blanket of snow. It was ugly, like a storm brewing on the horizon.
"Oh, how cute! You're just a naïve little thing who doesn't understand the power of our clan or the sanctity of our union!" He wiped away your spit with his thumb, curiously licking the saliva off his skin. You recoiled in disgust. "You'll learn to love me. You're just a stubborn girl who needs to be taught a lesson."
You tensed. Slow minutes passed, agonizing minutes melting like warm honey that was too sticky and sickly sweet. His intentions, then, clicked in your head. You bolted like a hare who saw a hunter with a gun, weaving through hallways with your adrenaline pumping in your veins. The creamy white door loomed in front of you, and you banged, your fists aching from the force.
"HELP ME! SOMEBODY, PLEASE—HELP!" You screamed, your lungs burning with fear and desperation. Tonight, you believed in a kind Raiden Shogun. She would surely hear your pleas and send bolts of lightning to kill all of them—the villagers, Itto, and your parents who betrayed you. You collapsed against the door, the cold surface pressing against your trembling form, tears streaming down your face as you waited for salvation.
This all happened because you didn't pray. Your parents were right to dedicate their lives to the Archon, even if it meant to ignore your own wishes and desires. Even if they never looked at their daughter with love and care, at least they were safe from the wrath of the Raiden Shogun.
Thick arms snaked around your quaking body, pulling you into a warm embrace. You jolted. "You know, I'm getting a little tired of these chasing games. Two nights in a row, huh?" Itto mumbled, his voice boyish yet sharp. "It hurts my feelings. Hey, if you do wanna worship someone, why not me?" He spoke, his grip tightening as he playfully teased you. "I promise I'll protect you better than any Archon ever could."
He pulled you back, hauling you to the room and locking the bedroom door behind him as you screamed profanities and tried to wriggle out of his grasp. You tried biting him, which didn't work, as he started giggling hysterically at your feeble attempts. When he threw you onto the mattress, you were dumbfounded, stars dancing before your eyes as he loomed ahead of you. "See, I wanted to be gentle, but you just had to go and make things difficult," he said with a smirk, his eyes darkening with desire. "I guess we'll have to do this the hard way."
When Itto pressed his lips against yours, you felt your blood run cold. Your first kiss. It was weak at first, with his inexperience and your shock, but quickly became sloppy and feverish. You tried to block him from breaching your mouth with his tongue, but when his fangs sank down on your bottom lip, you gasped, giving him the opportunity. As he tasted your blood, a shiver ran down your spine, both fear and a strange sense of thrill coursing through you.
It shouldn't feel this good. It really, really shouldn't. But when he parts from you, a sliver of spit connecting your lips, you're breathing heavily, dazed. You want to pull him towards you; you want to push him back and watch him bleed. A squeak escapes you when his lips press against your neck, sucking on a spot that makes you wince. He leaves a trail of wet kisses along your shoulder and collarbone, pulling the straps of your nightgown to get to your plentiful chest. "Wait—wait, please—"
Itto let out an impatient huff, shutting you up immediately. The pretty nightgown stretches and tears under his touch—a small price to pay for the pleasure he brings. He murmurs something about buying you a new one, but you're sure it'll suffer the same fate. His hands are rough against your skin, leaving marks that will linger long after he's gone.
No. He won't leave. The panic is just a dull ache within you now—that you're trapped, that this is your life. Tomorrow, when he forces you to do this again, he might coo at all the marks he left, biting into them even more deeply, claiming you as his own.
And if you want to escape, you should learn to endure. Endure, like when your parents would never celebrate your birthday, claiming that the only birthday that should be celebrated is when the Raiden Shogun descended from Celestia and came into existence. Endure, like when your cousin got to move to Mondstadt with good luck wishes, smirking at you as he left, knowing you were stuck in Inazuma. As you'd be for the rest of your pitiful life.
You always grasped the idea of the Archons. A powerful being who controlled everything, who would hear your soft prayers in the cold of the night as a child, but you never imagined that an Archon would be so cruel and unforgiving. Perhaps there is no escape from the clutches of fate, no matter how hard you try to resist.
Would it be so bad to surrender to his touch?
"Ehh? Are you really zoning out on me right now?" Itto's voice snapped you out of your thoughts. "You should be paying more attention to your husband, you know. I'm the one who's going to be by your side for the rest of your life after all." He cups the swell of your breasts, feeling the softness of your flesh. He leans down to press a reverent, gentle kiss against the valley between them, his warm breath sending shivers down your spine. "I promise to cherish you, protect you, and love you for eternity," he whispers, his eyes filled with unwavering devotion.
He continued his assault, his mouth moving lower, leaving a trail of wet kisses and licks along your stomach, making you squirm. The hunger within him was insatiable. He teasingly bit at the chub on your hip, causing you to gasp. A small trickle of sweat ran down your back at the thought of him biting into your flesh, tearing it away, and savoring the taste of your skin.
Maybe, if he ate you whole, you wouldn't have to worry about anything else ever again. Though you doubted that he'd entertain the idea of cannibalizing his own wife.
You snapped back to reality when you felt his tongue trace circles on your folds. Eerie goosebumps prickled across your skin at his touch. "S-stop! Itto, it's dirty to lick there!" It wasn't, to be truthful, you had been scrubbing yourself clean in the bath just hours prior. But your embarrassment was overwhelming.
Itto paused, his ears perking up at the sudden change in your tone. It was more whiny, more breathless, and more cute. Slowly, he lifted his head, red eyes meeting yours with a hint of mischief. "Is it?" he questioned innocently, running the back of his tongue along his white fangs. "I wasn't aware I was doing anything wrong."
His free hand reached up to brush a stray strand of hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear. "In fact," he continued, leaning in again to press a kiss on your inner thigh. "I think it's quite the opposite."
You couldn't stop yourself from blushing furiously at his shameless comments. Really, this asshole—
You let out an indignified yell as his thick finger dipped into your heat. His nails were sharp, but they didn't scratch you as he teased you with slow, deliberate strokes. Gently, he slid another finger inside you, feeling the way your walls clench around him. "You feel so tight," he whispered, like he was admiring you. His thumb brushed against your clit, eliciting a quiet moan from you. He couldn't help but smile, evidently pleased with your reaction.
Your eyes widened. "T-Tha…too much..—!"
He licked the slick that was gushing from you, savoring your taste. "You can take it," he assured you, his voice low and husky. "Needa' get at least one more finger in there, baby." His movements became more urgent. Your body responded eagerly, arching into his hand as he continued to push you towards the edge of pleasure. You were panting, whining, and withering as he twisted his fingers inside you, expertly finding a sweet spot that made you see stars. Your back arched off the bed, aching for release.
"P-please… please.." Your voice was needy, breathless, and disgusting. He let out a soft tsk. "I'm just tryna' prepare you. Can't have you falling apart before I'm done with you," he hummed, his eyes dark. With a final thrust of his fingers, the coil snapped, and your body convulsed around them. You couldn't help but cry out, a mix of pain and pleasure coating your features. He smiled, his fingers sliding free from your quivering pussy. "That's my good girl," he murmured, his voice laced with satisfaction. As you lay there, your body still trembling from the intensity of what just happened, he leaned over and pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead.
It irked you. How well he was at acting like a husband, wrapping you around his finger with just a few words and a touch.
"Now," he said cheerfully. "You should be able to take me." His hands went down to his elaborate belt and tugged it down, along with his trousers and boxers. You stiffened up and scrambled back at the sight of his manhood. You had never seen one before, but... it was unusually thick and big, curving slightly to the side. The tip was flushed. Your eyes widened in shock and horror. "Is that size... normal?" you stuttered.
He blinked before looking down at his member and letting out a loud laugh. "Perfectly normal.. I think." he reassured you. "It's okay, I won't hurt you. Badly, at least." You frowned a little. Slowly, hesitantly, you reached out and wrapped your fingers around him, trying to gauge how much pressure was appropriate. Itto hissed softly, his breath catching in his throat. It felt strange, yet exhilarating, to have you touch him like this.
You couldn't quite explain your actions. Curiosity, maybe? Your whole hand couldn't even wrap around him completely. He closed his eyes, savoring the sensation. "That's it," he murmured, encouraging you to continue exploring.
The veins along his length pulsed with anticipation as you tentatively began to stroke him, feeling the heat and hardness of his arousal beneath your touch. His reaction was immediate, a low growl escaping his lips as he pumped up against your hand, silently begging for more. Beads of pre-cum formed on the top of his mushroom tip.
It was mildly adorable and pathetic. Like a dog.
You could feel him growing harder in your hand, and a surge of both fear and excitement coursed through you. Taking control of the situation, you increased the pace of your movements, causing him to let out a guttural moan of pleasure.
If it… were like this, maybe you'd enjoy it. Him being the one under you. His vulnerability was surprisingly attractive.
Suddenly, he grabbed your wrist and forced you to stop. "Wait, wait," he panted, his breathing ragged. "Can't cum. Not yet. Needa fill you up first."
He wanted to put that monstrous thing inside of you? Panic bubbled in your chest.
Before you could respond, he positioned himself between your legs, guiding his thick member towards your entrance. He pressed gently, nudging until the head popped inside. A sharp intake of breath escaped you two as he sank further into you, filling you completely. Blood trickled down your thigh as you winced, spazzing in pain. His eyes locked onto yours. "Just relax," he whispered, his movements slow and deliberate. Easy for him to say.
As he slid deeper, you could feel your body adjusting to accommodate his size, the sensation both uncomfortable and intoxicating.
Finally, he was buried to the hilt inside you. He paused for a moment, giving you time to adjust, before beginning to move. Each thrust was forceful, sending waves of pleasure through you. You gasped, clinging to him as he took you, his every movement making you feel more and more alive. More and more filled with dread.
He threw your legs behind his shoulders, one by one, before folding you into a mating press. You let out a choked noise. He was too close to you, his long white hair surrounding your face like a fan. You closed your eyes to shield yourself from his red gaze, but the scent of sandalwood filled your nostrils nonetheless.
"Mmf—" you whimpered. The stretch hurt. Even his earlier ministrations hadn't prepared you for this level of discomfort. "Shiiiit… you're tight." He hissed, his hands gripping your leg meat tightly as he continued to thrust. "Gotta breed you. You understand, don't ya'? The elders are expecting a baby from us by next year."
Rationale came back to you. Your eyes widened, shaking your head. "No, no, please!" You cried out, tears prickling your eyes as you struggled beneath him. "Please, I can't do this! Please stop!" But even as you spoke those words, you knew it was futile. Itto was relentless, his movements becoming more frantic. Every time he’d pull back, the weight of him slamming into you was enough to make your body shake.
He ignored your words. "You have to," he whispered in your ear, his breath hot against your skin. "The elders need our child. It'll be a blessing we bestow upon our people." Your heart sank. If you did have a child, he'd mold them into some sort of cultist like the rest of the village.
"Shh, shh, it's okay," he whispered, his voice laced with desperation. "Just relax. It'll be over soon." And with those words, he plunged deeper into you, causing you to gasp in pain.
You felt violated and powerless, trapped in this nightmare with no way out. Yet, even amidst the agony, a strange sensation began to build within you—a warmth that spread from your core, enveloping you in its embrace. You hated yourself for feeling it. The heat rushed through your veins, numbing the pain and clouding your thoughts.
He rutted into you harder, his breaths growing ragged as he panted against your ear. "My cute little wife," he whispered hoarsely, his voice thick with desire. "I won't let anyone take you away from me." His grip tightened on your hips, pulling you closer until both of your bodies were flush. You could feel every inch of him pressed inside you, pulsing wildly. You breathed a scrambled plea when you felt yourself cum again around his cock. Despite your resistance, despite your every attempt to push him away, he continued unabated, driven by an insatiable hunger. You could feel his body shudder as he climaxed, spilling his seed deep within you. The very act seemed to fuel his ardor further, his grip tightening around your waist as he messily pumped himself inside you, his breath hot against your ear as he whispered promises of forever.
He nuzzled his face into your neck, leaving behind yet another mark in the form of a hickey. His breathing slowly returned to normal, and with a sense of finality, he reluctantly pulled out of you, leaving behind a void of emptiness. Your body shook as you hugged yourself, feeling his release drip out of you. A small smile graced his lips.
"Don't worry, sweetheart. It won't be long until you start to enjoy this as much as I do. We're meant to be together, after all."