Yandere Ayato X Reader - Blog Posts
Yandere No Sutoka 2.
Main Masterlist
Yandere Simulator Masterlist
Part 1
Male Reader Version
Yandere! Ayato Aishi x Fem! Reader.
Warnings: Smut, sexual themes, non-con, knife play, oral sex; fem receiving, ass-eating, rimming, rim jobs, squirting, cumming untouched (male).
Summary: Ayato greedily takes advantage of your promise of doing anything he wants.
W/C: 1.6k+
"We... are going to have so much fun..."
You feel the tip of the knife gently trail from the start of your thigh downwards, careful to not pierce the skin while the hand on your jaw pulls your head to face the opposite direction. You squeeze your eyes shut in a vain attempt to keep tears from leaking while feeling something soft yet wet press against your cheek, followed by a moan. He licked you. Ayato licked your blood. And he moaned at it.
He moves to lower his body closer, legs between your own to let you feel his stiffening member against your crotch. A sob escapes you as he parts his legs to force yours to follow, having your skirt hiking up while he pulls away from you to face you. “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you.” He assures despite the sadistic smile on his face before ducking closer to your ear.
“Not if you do as I say.” He sternly whispers, making you take in shaky breaths. “I promise I’ll even make you feel good.” He changes his tone to a more seductive one, tracing a small lick at the outer side of your ear, making you visibly shiver. “You’ve never done this before, have you?” He asks and you’re quick to shake your head no, hoping that it discourages him to continue.
“Good.” He pulls off your tie, pushing up your skirt higher until it’s left barely covering your underwear while he licks and kisses at the side of your neck. Your hands instinctively go to his shoulders to push him away, but they freeze in place at the reminder of the cold knife tracing back up your thigh, his left forearm placed next to your head to keep his body above yours.
Instead, you settle for fisting his shirt with shaky hands while the knife carefully slips under the side of your panties, the sharp tip gently pressing at your skin without piercing it. Not long after, he finds the soft spot at your neck, having your mouth opening to let out a muted moan with a pleasure-filled look on your face due to the new feeling.
You quickly pull yourself together and close your mouth, brows knitting together in attempt to stay quiet, reminding yourself of the background of your current situation. Ayato chuckles darkly against your neck and takes in a deep breath of your scent, giving you the impression that he knows he found your spot. You soon find out that it’s due to your hands gripping at his shoulders since kissing the hidden spot on your neck.
He kisses down your neck, some being open wet-mouthed until he reaches your chest, tugging down at the bottom of your shirt to expose the valley of your breasts. He continues to leave kisses with occasional bites, moaning at the feeling of the soft skin on his lips. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s trying to wait, he would’ve already wet his pants at having his face stuffed in your breasts.
His lips detach from your skin and move to your clothed stomach, moving lower with the same wet trail of kisses, untucking your shirt from the skirt and sucking softly at the skin. You raise your head to see him slowly going lower, noticing the knife still securely held in his hand and being forced to put up with the reality of having no way out of the situation; laying on the floor of the dark hall with puddles of blood, walls covered in red and a body laying ten feet away from you with who knows how many more nearby.
You feel him stop with his head between your legs, the curiosity making you look up at him with teary eyes, cheeks starting to prickle in a burning sensation. “May I?” He asks, giving you the false sense of having a choice. You glare at him and his flushed cheeks, laying your head back down only to feel the knife poke at you. Your breath hitches in your throat, knife tracing patterns on the unharmed skin of your thigh, making you question for how long you can keep it intact.
You shakily nod your head at the reminder of the threat, your action filling him with satisfaction. He slips a finger in the bottom of your panties and pulls them aside, surprised at the sight. You’re wet. But it’s not your fault, what did he expect? You’d never done anything remotely lewd before, and it’s certainly not your fault that your body’s not in tune with your head, it’s just a natural physical response given your situation.
Your eyes squeeze shut with a small whimper from your lips, the same ones that you waste no time in biting to keep your noises to yourself at the embarrassing situation. Ayato peeks his head up high enough to see your face, and unfortunately, he’s not close enough to your sopping sex. His hands grab onto your waist with a small squeeze, smirking sadistically before yanking you up to the proper height in which he can sit back on his calves and have your crotch right at his face…
With a perfect view of the priceless shocked yet scared expression on your face after having let out a yelp at the sudden action. He leans back to support some of your weight onto him rather than placing it all on your upper back, his right arm wrapped over your lower stomach. His free hand sneaks between the front of your thighs and pulls your underwear aside like previously, slowly slipping out his tongue while eyeing you closely, missing the new wave of wetness leaving your entrance.
You let out a small noise of surprise when he presses his tongue on top of your hole, your eyes shooting open. The more his tongue slowly ascends to your clit, the more your mouth drops open and eyes widen at the odd feeling. Your body quickly welcomes the sensation and proceeds to leak more slick while you still resist, shutting your eyes closed again with your brows knitting together as he reaches your clit.
His tongue flicks it softly with a light breathy chuckle at the sight of your trembling form, then going to suck at it. A small whine instantly leaves your lips followed by tears squeezing past your lids, immediately letting him know of your sensitivity, then again; you had never been played with. He leaves a small kiss on the bud and moves back to the virgin hole, licking over it in a slow, agonizing manner.
It takes everything you have to keep yourself quiet, continuing to deny the pleasure he’s giving you, it would be so much easier to drown it out if it was causing you pain. The wet tongue slips inside of you and your eyes instinctively widen, a small gasp leaving you. “Ah.” You shakily moan after your face morphs into one of discomfort at the overwhelming pleasure, your thighs twitching from either side of his head.
He leans further back on his calves to rest you on his chest and continues to swallow your fluids, dipping his tongue inside you and bringing it back in his mouth repeatedly to taste you. Decided in making you reach the highest point of your pleasure, he keeps delving into your soft insides with a hand reaching to your clit and mercilessly rubbing harsh circles, quickly starting to overstimulate you.
A shout leaves your mouth and pulls his sight to you, seeing your mouth agape and eyes watering from the pleasure, getting him to let out a breathy chuckle against your core, his hot breath hitting your soaked cunt. You start moaning uncontrollably while taking in shaky breaths, feeling yourself leaking down to between your ass cheeks and reaching the puckered hole, and before you can react to how uncomfortable it feels, Ayato’s tongue moves to lick between your cheeks and over the clenched hole.
While he licks the trail that managed to escape him, he notices how you suddenly fall silent, having him peeking over your bottom half and taking in the horrid look on your face, eyes wide and mouth agape in shock. He smirks and smiles to himself at the sight and licks another thick stripe over your clenched hole, your body shaking while he continues licking. Your hands make their way to his knees and grasp harshly at his pants as best as you can, silently pleading him to stop.
He lets out a dark chuckle but relents, landing a last lick on your drooled hole and returning to your cunt, licking and sucking more vigorously than before while incessantly rubbing at your clit, determined to give you your first orgasm. You scream loudly with your legs threatening to squeeze around his neck, loud noises of his lips smacking against you nearly being drowned completely by your own, your eyes tearing before you finally feel yourself release on him with a desperate moan.
A loud deep groan echos in the halls with you lazily looking up to see Ayato with glistening red cheeks, tears prickling the corners of his eyes and a pleased smile on his drenched face. Your cheeks burn in embarrassment at how you might’ve peed on him but notice the lack of the smell on urine in the air, instead a different odd scent filling your nose, one that could only be described as sex. He lowers your body with shaky arms and sets you carefully back on the floor, letting you see that he’s soaked his pants.
“We’re not done here yet.”
Yandere No Sutoka.
Main Masterlist
Yandere Simulator Masterlist
Part 2: Fem Reader Version - Male Reader Version
Yandere! Ayato Aishi x GN! Reader.
Warnings: Yandere-ism, death, blood, semi predator and prey play, implied sexual activities.
Summary: Based on the game of Yandere No Sutoka.
W/C: 1.6k+
A/N: Inspired by this, and no, it's not porn, just the game (starts at 9:23 mins).
You hold your knees to your face, staying in a ball while sobbing quietly in the darkness of the storage room, shoulders jumping and stomach shivering given the situation. “Oh Senpai…” You hear him call you, awfully close to your hiding spot. You lift your head up from your knees and cover your mouth, trying to calm your breathing while his footsteps echo in the empty, bloody halls, informing you of his proximity.
“Where are you?” You hear Ayato ask in the same sing-song voice from previously. You slowly look up to your right at the blurry window on the door, hearing him slowly closing in, his shadow stopping right at the door. You want to squeeze your eyes shut, look away, anything, but you can’t bring yourself to do so, instead, seeing his dreadful shadow facing the door, pausing in front of it.
You see the silhouette turn around and walk away with the tapping of his shoes after its stop. As soon as he’s out of hearing range, you let out a heavy, shaky breath, asking yourself, how did this happen? How was it possible? For a student, to kill everyone in a school, classmates, teachers, student council, headmaster. All for one person. And keep them in school after sundown, locked with no possible way to escape.
“So you were in that storage room.” You hear his luscious voice state, having heard your breath. You quickly move to the door as quietly as you can, holding the handle, determined to keep the door shut. Tears leak from your squeezed shut eyes, leaving a new wet streak on your cheeks while he walks back to you just as slowly, almost as if taunting you. By the time he reaches the door, you’re trembling in fear, awaiting his forced entry. But it never comes.
“Lets play a game.” He says, voice taking a sadistic turn in his last word. Your eyes open to look at the blurry glass, making out the figure of his face looking down at your own blurry self. You hear something move at your feet and notice a key being slid under the thin gap between the door and the floor before he speaks again. “I’ve hidden ten keys, just for you. These keys, will help you escape, if you’re quiet.” He pauses in a tauntingly.
“I’ll give you to the count of thirty, I even wrote for you which keys they are and gave you the first one. This one’s to your classroom.” He informs, sounding proud of how much of a ‘fair' chance he’s giving you. You hear him walk away and you finally start to loosen your grip on the handle, but still remain alert. You already have one key, he’s giving you a count down, you know the school like the back of your hand, and, this might be your only chance to escape.
You know that if you stay in the storage room, you don’t stand a chance, it’s just a matter of time. You don’t have another choice. You pick up the bloody key, utterly disgusted at the red liquid on it, and cautiously stand up, slowly pulling the door open and peeking out. As soon as you do, you see him no more than 10 feet away, forearms crossed over each other against the wall where he’s face to face with, holding a knife.
He slowly turns his head over to face you with a hazy look on his face and pink-dusted cheeks, lips parted and seemingly inches away from an ahegao face given the pleasure-filled look on his face. “Run along now.” He indicates, and that’s all it takes for you to start. Your class is right around the corner, and surely enough, as soon as you walk in you find the other key right on your desk just as you hear him starting the dreaded count down.
Rather than snatching the key and sprinting away, you’re frozen in place with wide eyes, staring at the blood-written words on your desk. His classroom. The desk smudged in blood makes it difficult, but you finally bring yourself to take it. Without sparing any more time, you run out the classroom, sprinting to the stairs and heading to the floor under you to his class, key resting in his desk as well, the same bloody words indicating you to head to the cooking club with unknown reason.
You met by bumping into him after walking out of said club, apologizing profusely and offering a helping hand. Once again, you dart to your next stop but freeze at the words that enter your ears. “Ready or not, here I come.” His voice echoes above you. You hadn’t even noticed how much time you had spent gawking at your desk, and just now taking into consideration the fact that he knows exactly where you’re going. You quickly kick off your shoes and run downstairs to the cooking club, running much more quietly with just your socks.
Miraculously, you make it to the club with the next key laying on the table, directing you to the photography club, your club, because why wouldn’t someone want to laze around talking about anime and getting to know your fellow club members. Unlike Ayato, you can hear where he is, the tapping of his shoes echoing down the halls, letting you know that just like you, he’s running.
Reaching your club to see a key resting on a manga, you’re indicated to go to the library, the place where you had your first conversation, you asked for his help reaching a book, and though one-sided, it was greatly appreciated. Going down one floor to reach the library, you’re then told to go to the counselor’s office. A bully had framed you for stealing an answer sheet, and Ayato gladly took the fall for you.
You exit the library, looking to your right to scan the hallway, but as soon as you do, you feel something sharp graze your cheek, cutting through the skin, leaving a streak of red in the process before piercing into the wall on your left. “Found you.” Ayato states from the hall on your right, standing halfway through it, leaving you shocked at how he just threw a knife at you.
He starts sprinting towards you, triggering you to run to your next destination, quickly snatching the key in the office while he pulls his knife out of the wall. Instead of heading to your next stop, you run to the set of lockers in front of the office, opening one of them and closing it after hiding inside, desperately trying to calm your breathing right as Ayato stops at the corner of the opened door.
He searches the hall on his left and behind him, staying in place for a few seconds before letting out a sadistic chuckle, followed by an audible breath, quietly walking in the office afterwards, approaching the desk. You decide to take your chances and open the locker as quietly as you can, stepping out as he slowly places a hand on the desk. He quickly looks under the desk with no luck and then snaps his head behind him.
But you’re already gone to the infirmary, where he kindly took you after watching you eat your bento with the headache poison he put. You run down the classroom hall to the sewing room, where you let him sew back together the seam on the side of your shirt. You trusted him so much despite him holding a needle; seemingly harmless, from great damage at least, but that little needle, could leave someone blind, yet you trusted him.
You slide open the door and take the next key, feeling more adrenaline rush through you at the word ‘exit’ written on the sewing machine. You hear his footsteps coming down the hall and decide to hide until he passes. He doesn’t know where you are anymore, and you’d rather keep it that way. You run to the lockers in front of the room and open one of them, only for a body to fall out, the one of said bully.
You let out a scream at the sight, multiple stab wounds on the student’s chest. If Ayato didn’t know where you were then, he does now. He played dirty. “There you are.” His voice says from the start of the hall, making you face him for a split second before taking off in the opposite direction with him following behind. Unfortunately, it’s not long before he catches you.
He doesn’t even let you reach the end of the hall before he takes you from your shoulders and throws you on the floor behind him, pinning you down with knees on either side of your hips while you struggle to keep him from holding your wrists above your head with one hand. “No! PLEASE! DON’T DO THIS!” You desperately cry, refusing to look at him.
“If I can’t have you,” He succeeds in holding your hands above your head, raising his knife in his other one. “NO!” You cry. “No one-” “I’ll do anything you want!” You interrupt, shoulders hunched, facing away and eyes squeezed shut, expecting the final blow that never comes. His hand comes down to hold your jaw, pulling it softly to have you face him, careful to keep the knife from touching you.
“Anything I want?” He asks, getting you to slowly open your eyes, seeing the same look on his face that he had before starting the countdown. You shakily nod with hesitation clear on your face and he lets out a pleasure-filled sigh, tongue nearly lolling out of his mouth. You instinctively face away when he leans down to your unharmed cheek, running his nose over it with a deep inhale, breathing out audibly.
“We… are going to have so much fun…”
Kamisato Ayato's Type (Yandere Idol!Ayato/Reader)
A/n: The CEO finally let me write “a/n” instead of “mother of Klee, Alice’s note” from now on now that the shareholder is missing! Anywaaaayysss… You look well-rested, Producer fox! What’s your secret? Won’t you tell mother Alice?
CW: hypnosis, panic attacks
Yandere 1k Idol Event
“(Y/n)... (Y/n), (Y/n), (Y/n).”
Kamisato Ayato chanted your name, voice dipping into a borderline death threat.
“My dear producer, isn’t this far enough? I am not playing games anymore. Why don’t you reveal yourself before I make you?”
You made no sound inside the closet you’ve claustrophobically folded your knees and arms to fit into. Both hands covered your mouth while your heart beat erratically– but the sensation surely had less friction compared to Ayato’s fingers.
He chuckled darkly. “Not up to it? Oh, but what if I started counting to three?”
You bit your lip, holding back tears.
A moment ago, you saw him rip his pillows in half after realizing you were no longer sleeping in his bed. Cotton materials were littered above his azure sheets and some were swept by the wind, dangerously close to the closet you were hiding in. His elegant demeanor crumbled and you jolted at the sharp sound of torn cloth. Ayato repeatedly clawed through the bed, his breathing guttural and erratic as he fruitlessly threw the rest of the pillows away. Your name no longer sounded right to you. It doesn’t sound like it was yours with the way he mumbles it like a curse or a lost possession.
Although his face couldn't be seen from this perspective, you can still picture his lips being uncannily spread from ear to ear. Your muscles tensed even more at the sound of his feral yet strained laughter. You don’t know where you are but based on how isolated the area was, you’re clued on a bit as to approximately where he’s keeping you hidden.
This is not his estate. This is not any of Teyvat Production’s buildings. The answer is closer to these keywords: Grand Narukami Land Reform Program.
You felt your heart pounding in your chest as his footsteps echoed louder– closer. Nausea started creeping in.
Be quiet… be quiet like a fox, (Y/n)…!
“Come now, Producer (L/n). Do you no longer trust me? I'll start counting. One… Two…”
—---
“It’s three o clock, sir– where have you been?”
Dressed in fine yet slovenly material, Kamisato Ayato enters the room. Looking from afar tells you what you need to know about him. Yes, he’s a byproduct of an aristocratic family who pursued an artistically sensitive path of politics, but by his smile alone, anyone can tell he's a notable outlier.
The corners of his eyes crinkled as he stared at you. As always, his lean body stands firm, not unlike a Hinoki tree on a misty morning. This is precisely the reason why your eyes targeted his wet clothing and not his well-versed smile.
Unimpressed by his absence while you were out working for the entire day, you asked as politely as you could. You've been bombarded with tasks as of late, disastrously to the point that you even started managing the Inazuman food supplies in the cafeteria.
"Sir Kamisato, may I inquire as to why you look positively haggard?"
The idol grins wryly at your voice before squeezing some locks of his hair near his scalp. His pursed lip belied both child-like innocence and weariness of a man without youthful aspirations. Some sweat also seeped between his fingers, which only served to amplify your distress.
Ayato averted his gaze, intent on answering you without giving too much of himself away.
"It was a difficult singing session and the space lacked ventilation."
"It's snowing." You deadpanned.
Ayato shrugged "It's a… mixture of both sweat and snow, I suppose."
You snatched the script off his hands.
Needless to say, he was definitely not practicing a song.
"Didn't Thoma or Childe agree to accompany you?"
Before making the switch to idol work, Childe was once known as Tartaglia in the theater industry. You suspect he's the reason behind Ayato's current fixation on acting. It's not a secret that Sir Kamisato had been eyeing the barren sixth and tenth spots of the Commedia Del Arte troupe for quite a while now…
"Thoma attended a talk show with Aether and Zhongli whereas Childe was preoccupied with his training."
Archery training most likely for that man’s next athletic competition, but you're not Producer Sage so you don't particularly care. Your eyebrows furrowed.
"Do you want to stay in ADDICKTZ longer than necessary?"
For a moment, his expression stiffened before it relaxed back into his usual languid smile.
If a well-dressed atheist quietly sits through a mass, most devotees cannot tell whether they're worshipping or attending. The same reasoning can be used to explain Kamisato Ayato's reputation. The juxtaposition of the perfect princely archetype paired with a stressed-out overachiever– that was your opinion on him the first few weeks you worked in Teyvat Productions. And you were right.
Sir Kamisato had always been open to you about his detachment from the idol group. In his eyes, every ADDICKTZ-related activity is a mere play pretend worthy enough for him to generate fabricated happiness to fuel his agendas. His idol works are not so different from the nihonga pieces the Kamisato Clan collected throughout the generations– a beautiful artwork, but not something he's deeply involved in. His career thrived off countless facework and dramaturgical approaches in fan interactions, false but not cheap. He is what the creative director and his assistant made him out to be, and he doesn't seem content or completely dissatisfied with this arrangement.
It’s obvious that he’s not here to satisfy Ayaka’s obsession with the idol industry– he’s your boss simply because there’s a political gain you aren’t privy to know the details to.
You'd wager a guess that this career shift likely had something to do with the Kamisato clan's land reform scandals… but you're not here for politics. Lady Yae always watches your every move to make sure you know little regarding the “real” paperwork Sir Kamisato does.
However, you can’t help but feel as if you were involved with one of these scandals before… you just can’t remember what incident it was.
"My apologies, Producer (L/n). I will not do it again."
"As you should." You pouted. "You caused me a great deal of worry."
Ayato opened his mouth before quickly shutting it. For a supposed political heir, words had failed him. His posture resembled that of an abandoned puppy as he slouched and sighed.
You laughed softly.
Open mind, open arms– you let him hug you gently as Ayato mumbled something about his workload. You’re so used to this that you didn’t mind how uncomfortably damp his back was. This is a normal occurrence between you two. After nearly half a year, Ayato opened up about missing his sister's hug after a long day and you offered to be a substitute. You ran your fingers through his sweaty hair, feeling him breathing softly near the shell of your ear.
“Producer (L/n)…”
“Yes?”
“I must memorize the script before sundown…”
You shook your head. How surprisingly predictable of him to bring that up.
“I won’t let you pick it up until you have a thirty-minute rest.”
“Why don’t we make this a game then?” He pulled back, a sly smile gloating just a bit to let you know he doubts you’d win. “This will be our second acting game– see which one of us can perform the script best. Win, and I’ll be the one finishing this week’s paperwork.”
As an older brother, Sir Kamisato has a habit of inventing games. The "reading game," "cursive-writing game," and "hotpot game" were all unmistakably created to discipline and make his younger sister Ayaka behave. However, she is now a young adult, and you are unquestionably much older than she is. You're not clear as to why he believed this "acting game" tactic would work.
But the “second” acting game? You’ve never read a script aloud with him before, though.
Oh, well. Picking up a script is worth trading the paperwork you were meant to be doing.
“If it lessens my workload, I don’t see why not…”
Working for the idol industry can be very demanding, after all. If you win, you'll probably squander your spare time to snack on sweets... and work on a few chores– okay, so you're not the best at being still. You’ll probably multitask working on Ayato’s theater work either way. That, or you'd plan a new deck for your next 25-minute TCG game with him.
He grabbed the script from behind you as his smile got bigger. Ayato handed the pages back after swiftly leafing through them and pointing at the highlighted passages.
“Scene IV – Act IV,” he said, his excitement subtly infecting his tone. “This is where my character helps Emperor Edel relax.”
You furrowed your eyebrows, confused. “I was under the impression that Hubert was Kaeya’s role.”
“Ah, I’ve forgotten to inform you but I’ve replaced Alberich since the eye incident.”
You know little about this “We Will Be Reunited” play 4/8 of ADDICKTZ are involved in but based on word-of-mouth, it appeared to be about an emperor and a retainer who had to betray former classmates to win a continental war. Seems like he wanted you to read the emperor’s lines.
He dimmed the lights to set the scene. Thankfully, only the two of you occupied his TeyPro's room. There's no one else lingering in the east wing, including Dr. Albedo's room next door.
“I see…” You muttered. “So, I shall be the first to start, correct?”
Sir Kamisato nodded. “Yes, you can begin with the ‘you think this can help me?’ line.”
You cleared your throat and repeated the phrase with much fervor.
“– I mean, I trust you Hubert, but I’d rather not face another disappointment in life again.”
Just like that, Kamisato Ayato’s demeanor shifted.
“My emperor (Y/n), I know that trusting another person isn’t easy, especially for someone like you with high status,” he spoke, voice laced with compassionate conviction. “But you have placed your trust in me, and of course, I will not let you down.”
As you listened to his delivery, you struggled to contain your grin of pride. For someone who looked ready to sleep on the floor when he entered the room, his voice carried the emotional weight worthy of becoming a professional theater actor. Hence, you decided not to comment on how he used your name instead of “Emperor Edel” for the sake of momentum. He knows what he's doing. This is the first time he called you by your first name– he's trying to fluster you.
“Hubert…” You muttered melodramatically, not knowing how the character should act or sound. “Fine, do what you must.”
“Thank you, my dear.”
You took another glance at the script and noticed that there weren't as many lines left for your character, which annoyed you. It seemed that Sir Kamisato deliberately set you up to fail. How can you win when he hasn't even gotten through one-third of his lines and you have already finished yours?
“Edel, I need you to look at me,” he spoke softly. “I need you to listen to the sound of my voice and follow my lead, understood?"
Since you weren't sure what to say in the first place, you didn't improvise any lines. You continued to sit next to him. He raised his hand near your face while he reads his lines. Your eyes naturally focus on his index and middle fingers as he points them up in the air. You don't understand the reasoning behind it, but there would be consequences if you check the script to see if that's written down. He would make up some nonsensical justification to deduct your points for this "acting game.” It's obvious. He’s not the only person in the world who can plot things like these.
“Are you still listening?” He muttered in a crisp yet low voice.
Your eyes squinted a little in an unsuccessful attempt to focus on his hazy image. You were naturally more inclined to focus on the two fingers between your faces, struggling to keep yourself awake.
… Struggling to keep yourself awake?
He moved his fingers slowly to the left.
“My liege, the pressure you’re carrying is an unimaginably heavy burden…” He slowly shifted his fingers to the right. His voice was barely above a whisper, and you were this siren’s only listener.
There’s a rhythm in his delivery. The charisma that his singing voice would convey remained present in his speaking voice, “even the smallest of tasks have been assigned to you– each minor inconvenience stacking up stress you do not need to carry alone. But you must continue to trust me. Focus on no one else but me and my voice alone. Only I can help you relax.”
… Were you so tired from work that this acting is actually working on you?
His fingers moved to the left again. For unexplainable reasons, your breathing wasn’t as shallow as it was earlier. You’ve made a mental note of how deeper it was compared to when Ayato first entered the room. Still, it’s too much of a draining challenge to focus on his face that you allow yourself to become absorbed in watching his slender fingers instead. You can no longer see his blue hair or face clearly.
Unbeknownst to you, your mouth was slightly agape–
and Ayato had been clenching his other hand tight in an attempt to resist the urge to capture your lips.
He dryly cleared his throat in a nearly inaudible sound.
Ayato needs to take this slowly.
He won't repeat the same mistake twice.
“T-This… ‘method’ may not be as comfortable as I would’ve hoped, perhaps a tad bit extreme, but I assure you that it is effective (Y/– Edel.” He bit the inside of his cheek. “Please, follow my lead…”
Of course.
“Left… Right… Left… Right…”
Your eyes moved as commanded.
“Left… Right… Left… Right…”
He chanted those words thrice and more.
… Why do you feel like you’ve done this several times before?
Sir Kamisato kept talking and talking…
His features blurred and the outline of his lips and nose disappeared, but his lilac eyes were clear. Eerily clear. As if it was the only feature of his visage left. You held back a yawn. You're sloppily reminded that the room remained dark, lulling you without questioning his face’s uncanny emptiness.
Nearly faceless.
You blinked laconically.
What’s going…?
“Sir Kamisato I…” You yawned, unable to keep it in for much longer. “I-I think I might have to take a break…”
Kamisato Ayato smiled, but you couldn’t see that.
“An important dimens… to the concept of hyp…. thera… is how the therap… and their …ient perceive their environment. One impor… set of beliefs the patient must hold is their concepti… of trust they have for their therapi… and the safet… that co… along… with it.”
You could no longer follow his string of words.
Was that… from the script? Or is he talking to you?…
He continued, his grin growing wider.
“It warms my heart to know that you trust me, my b…ved. Trust me enough to beli… I would receive the… lead role– trust me enough to mindlessly believe that there’s a scene in …. that requires hypnosis therapy.”
“Take a break. You deserve the rest more than I do.”
That was the only full sentence you understood.
“Promise…” You yawned again, fluttering your eyes shut. “Promise you’ll wake me up?”
He laughed.
—------
Kamisato Ayato opened the door to the closet and your heart finally sank. You gasped as a pair of empty lilac eyes towered and stared down at you. He bent down and roughly grabbed you by the arm like one of his sister's stuffed animals, leaving you with nowhere to run. Your perception of an upstanding nobleman was shattered and stepped on as his twitching hands yanked you by the collar.
His fingertips were red. His fingertips were warm– and it was all because of the mess he made with the torn-up pillows earlier.
He found you.
The first game concluded, and much like the second game with “Edel” and “Hubert” in the present, Kamisato Ayato won this round.
“There you are. Why, I never would’ve guessed that you’re a sleepwalker–... (L/n)...? (L/n)? Why are you…”
Kamisato Ayato, a broken boy, hugged you. You can’t hear him– you can’t breathe enough– you can’t feel his warmth– all you feel is a restricting pain in your chest that screams this was the end of the line. You could no longer function.
He can't have that. He doesn't want to see you like this.
He loves you. Don't you understand that?
Then why were you shaking?
“No. No, no– b-breathe, breathe… W-Why do you look so terrified? P-Please… “ His hands trembled as he held you. No longer from anger, but from fear.
He doesn't want to break you.
“Please don’t be scared of me, (Y/n),” he whimpered desperately.
"T-Thoma! I need help, right now!" Ayato bit his lip, as he rubbed circles on your shoulders. He doesn't know what to do, but there's only one objective left in his mind–
Kamisato Ayato needed to find a way to put you back together.
---------
He nodded, playing with your hair.
It's been months since that incident now. Thanks to Lady Yae's help, you would've likely forgotten all about it. You're back, almost brand new, and your health had became his priority.
Kamisato Ayato, idol and heir of the Kamisato Clan, will not repeat the same mistake twice.
“Promise, I won't forget to wake you up, (Y/n). After all, it seems I'm close to mastering my skills on 'E█M█ th██apy'.”
Ayato cooed and kissed your forehead, but you were already deep in sleep to know that.
“I promise I will no longer break you, unlike last time, my beloved.”
Ansytea: thank you, 🦊 anon for joining the match-ups~ and hehe happy holidays to you as well!!!