Cupid's Killshot /// Yandere Genshin x Reader

Yan Arataki Itto x Reader///A Bouquet of Marigolds

summary: 

You and Itto's relationship was nothing short of perfect. It came to no surprise to the people of Inazuma when you became his fiance. However, as intimacy grows, Itto's predatory oni instincts begin to consume him.

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Warnings: Yandere themes, Stalking, Implied Sexual Content, Implied Dubious Content, Violence, Mentions of Death, Possessive Behavior, Harassment (unwanted flirting by minor characters), Itto being potentially ooc as he isn't out yet

You fell for his boisterous laugh. The way he proudly stood up straight, placed large hands on his hips, and snickered at yet again another silly victory.

To some of the children in Hanamizaka, the unruly oni was an antagonistic bully; to others, he was a companion to play with. But to you, he was like the sun. Blazing and overbearing. His infatuation was unmistakably evident. He was always considerate and never subtle with clumsy affections. The little souvenirs and scribbled letters that littered your room were filled with tales of his daily mischief. Everyone knew that the muscular yokai was the one that brought you dango and sakura blossoms on solitary nights. Everyone knew that beaming days spent with him were never short of toothy grins, warm, calloused hands, and comical poses. He believed himself to be a gallant protagonist, and you, his destined romantic interest. Nothing but blushes and joking slaps arose when you rested your head on his chest, watching how the moon ascended behind Tenshukaku. At this point, official, public proclamations of heartfelt love weren't necessary. To the people of Inazuma, you were already claimed. It was fitting that you quickly became his betrothed.

You adored fiddling with the amethyst lump choker that he gently clasped a few moons prior. It shields each side of your neck from carnivorous eyes. It will come off on your wedding night and welcome sinking fangs that have been starved for too long.

--

He seemed so very human to you. In your eyes, not a trace of demon blood corrupted his being. Whenever he bent down, leaned into your embrace, and clenched plush skin, he was constantly mindful of protruding horns and pointy claws.

Perhaps he was too mindful. You shouldn't have been perplexed when plaguing nightmares full of burning desires, yet miserable heartaches lurked around. You should've noticed how hungry eyes stalked you as you strolled around the city blindly believing that he was off dueling with Kujou Sara, challenging Yoimiya, or setting up bug-fighting arenas.

Why didn't you notice how scarlet markings and eyes became more prominent and sharper day by day?

Some nights he would come home, sticky with sweat. Your fogged, sleepy mind distracted you from the stench of blood that drenched his attire. Another victim was crushed by his lethal club. It was all for the heat of the moment. It was all to nurture his egotistical nature.

Oh, how he wanted nothing more than to put his stained claymore on display, so he could quell any remaining doubts of his power that still festered in you. Itto yearned for you to carefully stand on your tip-toes and cup his face, to gush at his strength, to feed him more unrelenting praises.

"Yes, you keep me so safe, my love. My strong Itto."

Though often characterized as impatient and spontaneous, as a lover, the towering yokai calmly waited for you to finally make your way to his bedchamber. Rough yet tender hands ghosted over your fecund form. Fluttering eyes, pouting lips, and innocent squeaks satiated him for the time being. But the bloodlust like nagging stabs at the back of his mind remained in his system.

As he took in your form, covered by a thin sheet, he heavily sighed. He promised to himself to never defile your naïve, human spirit. Unfortunately, one autumnal morning he caved into feral impulses.

--

You were dressed in a honey-colored kimono, patterned with foxes and fans. You twirled your oil-paper umbrella cheerfully as maple leaves swayed and drifted in the cool breeze. Jubilant fall festivities had already begun in the bustling city. More families roamed around, more hawkers lured hungry customers to their delectable treats, more opportunities emerged for the tall man to smugly parade you around. Everyone will know that Arataki Itto has the most graceful, exquisite lover!

A booming chuckle was evoked as you tugged away from his possessive grip, ran across the wooden bridge to the nearest tree, and reached for the falling leaves. The warm colors scattering on rooftops and stone streets matched perfectly with your garment. One landed on your head. To him, it adorned you like a crown. The oni averted his eyes from your charming form and hummed curiously as he heard an elderly woman speak of how she was selling marigolds.

You are already the pinnacle of beauty, but he knew these would make you even more radiant. He just knew you would playfully throw yourself onto him; melodious giggles will bless the ears of onlookers as he will spin you around. His grin widened at the delightful thoughts.

After he purchased the gift and excitedly made his way towards you, the sudden snap of flower stems was heard. A throaty growl stiffened the joyous festivities. Winter came in a second. The trees became barren, every leaf fell to the ground and shivered. The bouquet slipped from his once gripping hands and was trampled by stomping feet. The marigolds never got to experience your sweet smile. Instead, they witnessed how you attempted to shoo away those filthy creatures. His nostrils flared, his fangs bared, his claws protracted. Their vulgar language and dirty hands that rested on your quivering shoulder cloaked him with rage. The man with demon blood rushing through his veins bumped into families and persistent vendors as he made his way to the repugnant scene.

How dare someone lay a finger on what is mine!

He was on the verge of materializing a geo club and slaughtering the men that even dared to have the singular thought of gazing into your lustrous eyes. He knows the crimson streams, a testament of death, will blend in with the red maples.

However, for once, the childish, obnoxious man was silent as he pulled you back into his dominating arms and swept you away from those ogling fools. Still, even then, you were too blind to notice how his horns became piercing daggers, and fiery eyes were no longer simmering embers. It wasn't until he brashly tossed you onto his bed, ripped the dazzling choker, and had his way with you that you were struck with a horrific realization. The stinging pain of fangs biting and marking, once concealed flesh, was in those haunting nightmares.

Bestial instincts detached the oni from what little humanity he had left.

Your incessant cries of pain and pleasure urged him forward. He huffed guttural promises of never letting you in the presence of another man, never letting you out of his sight, never letting you go.

You will wed him.

You will carry his offspring.

You will make him so utterly human.

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