Yandere Ayato - Blog Posts

Yandere No Sutoka 2.

Main Masterlist

Yandere Simulator Masterlist

Part 1

Fem Reader Version

Yandere! Ayato Aishi x Male! Reader.

Warnings: Smut, sexual themes, non-con, knife play, oral sex; male receiving, jerking off, ass-eating, rimming, rim jobs, cumming untouched (male).

Summary: Ayato greedily takes advantage of your promise of doing anything he wants.

W/C: 1.7k+

"We... are going to have so much fun..."

You feel the tip of the knife gently trail from the start of your thigh downwards, cutting through the material of the pants while careful to not pierce the skin, the hand on your jaw pulling 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 pants stretching uncomfortably over your clothed cock 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 slowly unbuttons your shirt, a finger trailing over your shivering stomach as he forcefully pulls your pants over your hips after he’s done with your shirt, exposing 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 down your thigh as he makes work of pushing your pants the rest of the way down, his left forearm placed next to your head to keep his body above yours.

Instead, you settle for fisting his shirt with shaky hands as the pants reach your ankles. “You mind pushing them off for me?” He suggests in an alluring tone in between his kisses against your neck, the knife that carefully slips under the side of your underwear with the sharp tip that gently presses at your skin without yet piercing it reminding you of your situation. You quickly nod your head shakily, slowly moving your feet to gently kick off your shoes followed by his pants, careful to not spite him in any way.

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, pushing your shirt open the rest of the way to expose your torso completely. He continues to leave kisses with occasional bites, moaning at the feeling of the soft skin on your chest on his lips. If it weren’t for the fact that he’s trying to wait, he would’ve already wet his pants from being so close to you.

His lips move to your stomach, moving lower with the same wet trail of kisses, sucking softly at the skin of your lower stomach, feeling it raising with every breath. 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 waist of your underwear and agonizingly slowly pulls it down and over your length, surprised at the sight. You’re hard. 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 semi-hard length. 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 erecting member 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 over the front of your thigh and wraps itself around the base of your pulsing member, slowly slipping out his tongue while eyeing you closely, missing the stream of precum that leaks your tip.

You let out a small noise of surprise when he presses his tongue flat on your balls, your eyes shooting open. The more his tongue slowly ascends the length of your cock, the more your mouth drops open and eyes widen at the odd feeling. Your body quickly welcomes the sensation and proceeds to leak more precum from the twitching cock while you still resist, shutting your eyes closed again with your brows knitting together as he reaches the slit of the tip.

His tongue flicks the edge of the tip softly with a light breathy chuckle at the sight of your trembling form, then going to suck at it with his tongue lightly pushing the foreskin out of the way. 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 and pulls your cock to aim the tip at him, licking over the small opening and moaning at your taste.

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 spreads the liquid around the head 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 takes your tip in his mouth, wrapping his lips around it while licking you in his mouth with a moan, swallowing repeatedly to taste you. Decided in making you reach the highest point of your pleasure, he keeps sucking on you with his hand starting to jerk you off in a steady twisting motion, quickly starting to overstimulate you by overwhelming 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 release you from his mouth to let out a breathy chuckle against you, his hot breath hitting the soaked tip. You start moaning uncontrollably while taking in shaky breaths, feeling yourself letting out another stream of your liquids that lands on your swollen balls, feeling it trail down and between your ass cheeks, reaching the puckered hole.

Before you can react to how uncomfortable it feels, Ayato’s tongue moves to lick between your checks 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 fully hardened erection, licking and sucking the tip more vigorously than before while incessantly jerking off the rest of your length in a fast pace in the same twisting motion, 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 your balls release in his mouth with a desperate moan. You feel yourself shooting load after load in him with his tongue licking you clean until you finished with an audible sigh.

A loud deep groan echos in the halls with you lazily looking up to see Ayato having pulled away with red cheeks, tears prickling the corners of his eyes and a pleased smile on his face. Your cheeks burn in embarrassment at the lack of your cum around his mouth, indicating you that he swallowed all of it; all of you. 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 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.”

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!!!

Am I attracted to a faceless creepypasta now? Maybe

ERROR 410: GONE (Yandere Faceless!Kamisato Ayato/Reader)

A/n: thank you for the 5 dollar tip, "anonymous"! I asked them for what they want in exchange and they asked for a fac█le██ ayato fic... Alright then... You did ask for it...

Unreliable synopsis: Your new coworker doesn't seem to be from around here...

It was a cramped night at the bus stop. Except for the elderly, many people had their phones out since it was nearly midnight and nobody had the stamina to engage in conversation. You recently got promoted as a district manager for an international company, and oh, the work is just too exhausting to drone about. However, in this station, it didn't matter if you were an energetic student or an employee. The bus is abnormally later than their usual "lateness", and such a redundant statement elucidates just how shoddy their schedule is. Everyone was simultaneously stressed and drained and each of their war faces screamed that they would selfishly fight for the seat ride home.

All except for one man.

From the moment he arrived, you were peering at him. He had a similar appearance to the character you were "maining" in the video game you were enamored with for approximately two years. Though you seriously doubt he was in cosplay, he and that favorite of yours look eerily identical. His long-sleeved black coat and simple white turtleneck blend in with modern fashion fairly, save for his elaborate light blue hair, which was organically unkempt and not at all synthetic. His keen eyes led you to believe that he is from an Eastern lineage, most likely Japanese, but you didn't want to make any unfounded assumptions. Because it's simply impossible for someone to cosplay at this time, you were left silently marveling at the incredible coincidence.

He muttered something to himself, but you did not hear it.

“11:56 PM.”

You had a smidgen of knowledge regarding the bus schedule enough to give yourself a pep talk in the hopes that it would motivate you to give him directions. But no amount of psyching yourself up could have prepared you for when another person walked up to him. She asked the question you had been meaning to ask for the past three minutes, assuming she was a college student. He grinned at the worried girl. 

He was stunningly gorgeous when he smiled.

Wholly unfair how he exudes an aura of elegance whilst wearing normal clothes while you look like a sloppy burrito wrapped by a beige shawl this dead of night.

“Oh, no, no. I am not at all lost. I’m simply looking for someone.”

Everyone was fairly sure that person would never arrive, but he stayed roving around the room, pacing back and forth as if the person he was looking for will arrive the next minute. Whoever it was, you were starting to get angry on his behalf. Who would leave such an attractive man waiting? It was improper. 

But to be honest, you have already admitted to yourself that your life is quite dull— so you’re aware that this nonsensical drama you had over this imaginary person stemmed from boredom.

Out of the blue, he fixed his gaze on you.

The stranger’s eyes softened. The simmering panic in his expression vanished in an instant the moment he saw your face, and his mouth gaped open for a short while before he sauntered forward, ignoring the student who awkwardly shuffled back to her waiting spot.

You immediately felt small, upright, and astoundingly nervous. Not ready to be accosted by anyone at all.

“There you are…” He gave you that smile again. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you, Mx. (Y/n).”

You scanned the area before jabbing your finger at your chest. He nodded as if you were being ridiculous to consider that it may be someone else.

Ah, so the lookalike was waiting for you. 

You were mentally fighting yourself.

“I’m ███████ █████,” he said in a gentle tone— not at all reflecting the stressed out look he sported a moment before. “— The new product manager. I’m an incredibly recent hire, so please do not feel bad for not recognizing my face.”

That wasn’t the reason why your eyebrows were knitted, though. It’s because you DO recognize his face, but you doubt he’d take you for a reasonable person should you start pointing out his physical similarities with a fictional character.

███████ █████, huh? His full name is a bit average-sounding. Sounds like something you may have read on an early 2000s Weaboo forum on "What would your Japanese name be?" which lists down dates, birth months, and the first letter of a person's first name. However, it wasn’t entirely unbelievable— you just chalked him up as an unfortunate kid whose parents were eager to give their son the name "John Doe" when given the chance.

“It’s nice to meet you, Mister █████.”

“P-Please,” he shook his head. “Let’s drop the formalities. We shall work alongside together officially tomorrow. I would like for us to talk more casually if you would not mind.”

His vocabulary was painfully filled with constrictive pleasantries for someone who seemed to be eager to have a casually cordial relationship with you. Since a product manager and a district manager have roughly equal levels of authority in your company, his desire for friendship isn't too shocking.

Yet, you can’t help but stare… It’s still so strange how he also has a mole right underneath his lip.

He looks just like Kamisato Ayato from Genshin Impact, but not for long.

At first, you envied █████’s youthful glow and wanted it for yourself, but upon learning that he will replace Mister Blaiddyd, you mentally prayed that he wouldn’t lose his mind from stress like his predecessor. That’s how stressful being a product manager is. Give him two months and he’d probably start ruining his coiffed hair during crunch times.

“Understood,” your eyes darted back to the bus station, which remained regrettably devoid of any vehicle. You were starting to consider taking a taxi to avoid this awkward conversation but there’s not a single one in sight. “Since you’ve mentioned that you were trying to find me, might I ask why that is, exactly?”

“Ah, yes,” he instinctively adjusted his collar. His sharp and sophisticated face never averted away from you. “You see— Miss Goneril had informed me that I should approach you if I had any concerns about work.”

Ahh… Hilda…

His future plight still doesn’t change how annoying this situation is. Can’t believe you’re already assigned to helping a newbie out as soon as you got your promotion. She’s planning to milk your kindness dry this month, isn’t she? Despite being your best work friend, Hilda doesn’t have to be unkind to someone to exploit them. But you suppose you wouldn’t mind too much, given how he doesn’t look half-bad. Call it vain, call it a “coping mechanism”, but there wouldn’t be any shame on your end to teach a new attractive coworker the ropes of your job. 

You'll treat him nicely. As the good Samaritan you are, maybe you'll also ask him to give up while he's ahead for good measure.

“Sure, I wouldn’t mind helping you out—”

“I'm most grateful!”

“—but it is VERY late.”

You took a quick look at your phone. 11:53 PM—and there were three messages from Miss Goneril confirming that █████ is the new hire. Since Hilda never filtered her remarks when it came to... aesthetically pleasing people, you instantly pocketed your phone. It was a grave oversight on your end that Hilda found out earlier that you weren't paying attention to her babbling earlier. You wouldn't get such a long message on how "hot" █████'s mole was if you were a better pretender. Her thirst was kind of unsettling.

Ah, whatever. You’ll just delete it later.

You held back a yawn, “where’s your stop?”

“███ ███████.”

“Ah, that’s where I drop off too.”

Additionally, it is the bus's final stop, so you would have to spend a lot more time with him. Great. You hoped he wouldn't try to strike up a conversation with some small talk.

He placed his hand on his chin. Now that he’s up close, you realized just how long his sleeves were. The silhouette nearly reminded you of Kamisato Ayato once more. █████ nodded with a half-teasing smile.

“Oh, not to worry, I know.”

Hilda must have told him right away. You secretly hoped that the main reason she paired you two up was because of your shared destination so you could applaud her wise decision-making skills, but you knew better. Once more, Hilda is attempting to match you with someone.

You cleared your throat, “well then, you better prepare yourself with some sleepless nights because the buses around here don’t come around plenty. You’d have to stand most of the time—”

He muttered something again, “three minutes left.”

“Hmm?”

“Ah, no, it’s nothing. I’ve recently moved here so please do continue explaining.”

“… Right.” You sighed, “do you live in ██████████?”

“Yes.”

“Then we’d go in opposite directions. I live in █████ so this is the only bus we share.”

“Unfortunately.”

That almost made you snort. Unfortunately? It's not at all unfortunate, though. During these hours, you rarely feel socially motivated to communicate, and you just know deep down that once he starts working, you'll find a method to board buses separately from him.

“If it’s alright for me to quickly digress— may I trouble you with something, (Y/n)?”

“Sure.”

“May I take a picture with you?” █████ asked. “I want to upload it in my Instagram Story to show my friends and family that I’m faring well. They’ve been insistent that I should make friends on my first day of work— even when based on technicalities, this doesn’t qualify as my first day.”

He must be the eldest and the breadwinner of the ████████ family. That's admirable. Working with someone like him is not a problem for you. They constantly know how to get the job done.

“I don’t mind,” you said, slightly nervous. “But can you not add any weird stuff?”

“Weird stuff?”

“Like, maybe a “my new coworker is ugly” or something like that.”

“W-What?!” █████ jolted. “I would never do such a thing! Especially towards you, my bel—”

“R-Relax, that was just a joke.” Not really. “Is it okay if I don’t take my face mask off?”

“… Of course, I wouldn’t mind.”

“Great.”

█████ scooted closer to you, placing his phone up and angling it in the direction that mostly showed your face. It’s as if he didn’t want his face to be seen, but with a handsome face like that? You’re highly doubtful that is the case. His hands were trembling. The poor man must’ve been incredibly sleep deprived and running on coffee like you.

Unwittingly, you placed your hand above his to steady his phone and you heard him gasp softly. You quickly withdrew your hand away as though you touched a hot kettle when its anything but warm.

His hands were cold, it almost didn’t feel human.

“Oh— sorry!” You shrugged, cringing. “I didn’t mean to—”

“N-No, it’s fine!” He chuckled nervously. “If anything, I should be the one apologizing. I have been told that I am terrible at using a Kamera.”

Why does he say “camera” with a hard “K”? You’ve never heard anyone else pronounce it in that way. Possibly a local accent. It was tempting to ask where he’s from but perhaps that topic would be better brought up some other time. Asking that question might just make him miss his family more, and his parents might be wide-awake right now anticipating any form of reassurance that their child is doing fine.

“Then allow me to take the pic for us.”

He smiled eagerly, “I would greatly appreciate that.”

█████ handed you his phone. You set it up at the same angle he had originally intended, although this time his phone's screen displayed both your faces more clearly. Although you made an effort to contain your emotions, you couldn't help but be overwhelmed by how much he resembles Kamisato Ayato. You mentally readied yourself for the possibility that you would feel his breath on your neck, but you didn't feel him breathe. That doesn’t make you feel untouched, however, since he rested his hand on your shoulder to pull you close enough for the picture.

Is he holding his breath?

“Stay still,” he commanded.

You clenched your fist, trying hard NOT to think about how close his voice is to Chris Hackney’s.

After you pressed the shutter button at least three times, you opened the pictures you’ve taken.

He really does have a beautiful smile.

“Is there something wrong with my face…?”

“Hmm? N-No,” you sputtered out. “I just thought it was a good pic.”

“I’m glad,” he laughed heartily. “I’m still getting used to this face after all.”

… Huh.

Maybe you lack sleep, but the photos remind you of those AI-generated photos on social media— the stolen ones that artists rightfully plead credit for. Maybe you just find him excessively gorgeous because he reminded you of a fictional character you were familiar with, but his appearance somehow seems otherworldly…

“11:55, one minute left.” He muttered again as he crooned above your neck, gazing at his phone.

“For what?”

█████ laughed heartily. 

“For the bus, of course!”

You raised an eyebrow. The station was incredibly empty. You genuinely can’t tell who would lie to him about that.

“Sorry, █████, I don’t know who told you that but there’s genuinely no pattern as to when the bus arrives here. That’s fake news—”

“██████████!!! ██████████!!!”

You immediately snap your neck at the sound of the bus conductor.

“H-Huh?” Your eyes widened.

█████ wore a smug smile on his face as he watched you stare at his phone in disbelief. He was correct; the time was 11:56 pm. But before he had time to gloat and act “mysterious”, you snatched his cold hand and sprinted for the seats— apologizing to the college student you bumped into along the way.

No way in hell you’re going to wait for the next bus.

“We need to go! Now!!!”

You woke up the next day feeling more tired than the previous morning.

Tuesday means that you will inevitably have to work today. You woke up before your alarm, but instead of being a responsible adult and opening up a parcel of bread with hot coffee on the side, you rolled on your bed to whisk your charged phone from the nightstand. You received notifications from several social media apps and a work email from Mister Gautier, but you'd prefer not to startle yourself by hearing one of your subordinate's absurd justifications for being absent. Instead, you launched the Instagram app that you reluctantly installed because of Hilda.

The picture you took together with █████ is still up on his Story.

The image is just as you recall it. You might even say that your opinion of his appearance significantly increased after a good night's sleep. How did you manage to converse with your new coworker last night without turning into a stammering wreck when he is THIS drop-dead gorgeous? You're confident the picture wasn't edited in any way. After all, you saw him upload it directly to his phone's social media account because you wanted to make sure he wouldn't add any odd captions. Congrats to █████ for being incredibly photogenic. He genuinely looks like an AI-generated person with how flawless he appeared. You would have told Hilda straight away that whatever she was swooning over had to be some kind of catfish if you hadn't met him—

You squinted.

…

“Wait a second.”

You looked closely at his hand which rested on top of your shoulder.

“… Are those six fingers?”

That can’t be right.

Sure, he does look like an AI-generated person in the flesh but six fingers? Absurd. It’s probably due to the horrible lighting.

You can’t zoom in on a story, so you took a screenshot but—

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

“Shit.”

You had no time to spare. Hastily, you rolled out, tossed your phone on the bed, and staggered to the restroom. You had to go as soon as possible since you have a meeting this morning. At this rate, soldiers who lived ration by ration likely had a healthier diet than you– but your boss is the embodiment of evil.

You’ll just have to look at the image later.

“Bad morning?”

“Oh, nice to see you here, █████.”

█████ grinned, pointing at the chair beside you, “would you mind if I sit?”

You smiled politely, “I don’t own this place, you know?”

He chuckled, “fair enough.”

It's 4:07 PM. Even though one of your team members arrived later than expected, you eventually built momentum and finished the presentation on a high note. Working with Mr. Gautier is such a headache. Thankfully, district managers have to go out in the field, so before you know it, you've excused yourself to eat lunch at your preferred café. The barely-melted coffee powder you had at home wasn't going to help you get through the day like your favorite cup here. Your cup was no longer a "morning joe", but better late than never.

█████ sank on the cafe’s chair, inhaling the aroma of the rich coffee you ordered. You assumed yet again that it was Miss Goneril’s atrocious wingman skills that led him to this place. His shoulders relaxed a bit afterward as he eyed your cup.

“I do wonder what real coffee tastes like…” █████ mumbled.

You'd give it to him, but you're stressed out—probably more so than he is, given that your supervisor basically holds his hand around the office like a newborn child. The gravity of the problems you carry as a District Manager is nothing to laugh at, either. It’s just a matter of getting used to it.

“Looking already stressed on your official first day, hmm?” You teased before you sipped your cup, pretending you don’t feel his jealous eyes. “Is being a Project Manager not what you had expected?”

█████ shook his head, scoffing with a lopsided grin.

“Oh no, I used to have bigger workloads. I’m only behaving this way since I’m not used to moving this face often.”

This face, huh? What a unique yet expected phrasing. After all, he is so attractive that it wouldn't surprise you if he thought of his face as a separate entity that must be maintained. █████ must be the type of person who cares an awful lot for skin care and self-love. Good for him, good for him.

“Never worked in retail before?” You tilted your head. “Never practiced your customer service smile?”

“In a way, yes,” he chuckled. “I am more accustomed to working behind the scenes since my younger sister takes most of the spotlight in the commi— our family business.”

█████ sure laughs a lot.

“Ah, is she something of an entertainer?” You teased. Knowing a thing or two about other people’s younger siblings, you anticipated some messy anecdotes which served to amplify your opinions on how chaotic having siblings is.

“No. On the contrary, she’s incredibly reserved and poised.”

“Then I bet there’s just something charismatic about her— is she the artistic type?”

“She is. Our family’s beloved princess is quite skilled in the art of dancing and calligraphy. You ought to watch her perform someday.”

You made an effort not to grin foolishly as humiliating thoughts ran rampant inside your head. His sister sounds like Ayaka already. How surreal would it be if you opened up your phone and did your Daily Commissions in front of him—

Oh, right! Your phone— that screenshot!

You ferreted your phone out of your bag, side-eyeing him each time you failed to find it inside its mini-pockets. █████ kept smiling as you busied yourself in hopes you’d locate your phone sooner. To fill in the dead air (and to avoid getting uncomfortable knowing that a man was keeping a close eye on you), you got right onto the meat of the subject by asking questions.

“Hey— I know this is weird, but can I see your hands?”

█████ didn’t respond for a while, lost in a trance before you lightly waved at his face. His soft gaze broke as he blinked fast multiple times.

“My… hands? Alright.”

He pulled his long sleeves— which iconically trailed longer than any other coat in the company— to smoothly show off his slender fingers. █████ glanced at his wristwatch in the process. 4:09 PM. Just one minute more.

Meanwhile, you flinched. He clearly had five fingers in each hand. The normal amount. You didn’t know what exactly you were expecting.

“Hah, I’m definitely sleep deprived,” you spoke humorously. “When I checked our picture this morning I swear I saw six fingers.”

He didn’t laugh. Slowly, he closed his eyes, unamused.

“You’re wrong.” 

█████’s voice dipped low.

You never realized how warm his servile gazes were until he starts looking at you with a cold glare.

You felt your spine tremble as you took note of how he crossed his arms. What’s with this sudden shift in atmosphere? Shouldn’t he laugh at how strange your question was instead?

Why did he sound so offended?

Due to the nature of his tone, you sputtered out an excuse to bring back the light conversation you had before, “must’ve been because its dark— here hold on I took a screenshot of it.”

You opened your gallery, not bothering to scroll deep into it since it should be a recent photo. Yet, you paused, and frantically swiped up and down. You expected that screenshot to be the first image that greets you upon opening the app, but you only saw an entirely black PNG file. Why on earth did that screenshot turn void? You tried searching but you only found recent scans from the last week’s meetings and some “candid” selfies Hilda most likely snapped for herself. 

This makes no sense whatsoever! You swore you took the screenshot earlier and there was no notification that it failed to save it.

“█████” smirked.

11:56 PM M: (Y/n) waits at the bus station.

02:33 AM T: (Y/n) arrives home.

8:01 AM T: (Y/n) has a meeting.

4:10 PM T: (Y/n) looks at their phone at Cafe █████.

4:10 PM. GONE.

You’re so adorable when you have your phone close to your face with your eyebrows knitted like that… Oh, his dear beloved, you nearly got him…

It’s such a shame that he knows your phone like the back of his palm.

“Is something the matter, (Y/n)?”

Kamisato Ayato chuckled behind his sleeve.

You wouldn’t meet his eye, “I was pretty certain I took a screenshot of it this morning, this is so strange…”

Quickly, you opened Instagram to check “█████”’s Story, but the image was missing as well. Since Stories only expire after 24 hours, and it has only been a little over half that time since it was posted, it shouldn't have disappeared. Your eyes remained glued to your phone, unbeknownst to the sinister smile your coworker wore amidst your defeated state.

“Say, did you remove your Stor—”

“Here.”

“█████” slid his phone onto the table.

You picked it up. It’s the picture you two had at the station. You zoomed in on his hand.

Five fingers.

“… Yeah, it’s definitely five,” you whimpered almost inaudibly. “Here I thought I could show you something funny. Damn. I’m really sleep-deprived.”

“I know, you sleep at around 2:30 after all.”

“Yeah—”

You took a breath and then shook your head. There is no need to be skeptical about that statement; it's simple arithmetic. He reportedly knows a lot about accounting, thus he most likely estimated the length of your ride home as if it were a no-brainer. You gave him a wary smile. He's a lot more calculating than you first thought; he even picked up that you were looking for the photo you took the night before without your having to tell him.

Doing what needed to be done without being asked…

“█████” swiftly took his phone back.

“Now then, would you care to enlighten me as to what tastes good on this cafe’s menu?”

You smiled.

Yeah. You think you’ll get along with the new Project Manager just fine.

“Why, it’ll be my pleasure! First off, the frappe here is not that bad…”

This feels like a lamb talking to a wolf in sheep’s clothing and I absolutely adore that

If you’re still open for character interactions prompts, could I ask for Ayato + “Ayato, i’m so sorry to ask for such a shameful thing but… There’s been weird stuff happening around lately and it’s scaring me. Could I please stay with you for a while, until things calm down? I’m so sorry to bother you like this, I hope you’ll forgive me…” ? Thank you a lot <3

Ahhhhh I love this, ty anon

//Yandere themes, gang stalking

----

“…This is the first time you've mentioned this to me.” His eyebrows raised. He set his cup back down on the table. “Care to elaborate?”

You shifted in your place on the floor, tightening your grip on your own cup, holding it firmly against the low table. You shifted your gaze downward, rather than where he sat on the opposite side.

You had been waiting to ask, but you felt rather guilty about doing so. After all, he was the one who had graciously invited you here for tea, and you had accepted as you always did, only this time to make such a burdensome request of him… you swallowed.

“It’s… it’s really dumb, really, I’m probably just being paranoid—”

“I insist.” His voice was firm, but not angered, more of a concern in his tone. “Your face makes it obvious that you’re worried. You wouldn’t be so much so if it was completely unfounded.” After a moment, he added, “if it is just paranoia, you know I would be honest with you and tell you so. Perhaps I can help you understand the situation better?”

You bit your lip, looking around the room. Expensive-looking furniture and décor lined the walls, the floor. Even the table you rested your arms against had an ornate design carved into the sides, a fine polished finish on the top.

Being at the estate always made you feel slightly uncomfortable for that reason, you felt almost nervous being around so many expensive things, you felt out of place… but you’d gotten used to it over time. Still, it reminded you of how important he was, and thus bothering him with what you figured to be trivial issues in your own life (at least compared to the significance of the matters he dealt with on a daily basis) made you feel that much more reluctant to bring it up.

Still, you were truly quite frightened by the matter, so you forced the words out of your mouth anyway.

“I just…” you fidgeted, shifting the position of your calves as you sat on them, “I’ve noticed over the past few months that… I keep feeling like there are people following me around,” you started, stumbling over exactly how to word it. “More than one person, too… I don’t know. I feel like I keep seeing the same faces over and over and notice people walking the same way as me for a long time… the thing is, when I make eye contact with them, they always dart away. I dunno, that especially seemed... strange."

He was quiet for a moment. You couldn’t quite read his expression. He didn’t show any outward emotion in particular, but his eyebrows seemed to furrow slightly, he sat more upright, fingers drumming against the cup. He appeared to be thinking seriously about your words.

“If you’ve noticed it this frequently, it’s likely serious,” he replied, after a moment of quiet. “That sounds perfectly reasonable to be concerned over, in my opinion."

“N-no, I don’t…” You shook your head. “I don’t know. I’m probably being paranoid and convincing myself of it... why would there be people spying on me anyway? It would be one thing if it was one person, but…” You inhaled, and sighed. “I can’t think of any reason multiple people would follow me. I’m not involved in politics like you or anything.”

“…Yes, that’s true.” He leaned back, tilting his gaze to the wall. His eyebrows furrowed further, and he sighed, almost with a frustration to it. With his next words, his voice took on a hint of irritation. “If assigned to watch you without being noticed, it sounds as though the individuals in question are perhaps not performing their job very well.”

There was a quiet that followed. The sentence felt like an odd choice of response, and the tone bizarre for such a thing to say. It thus threw you off, leaving you unable to form a reply. You merely looked at him for a moment at you thought through it. "You think it's like... their job to watch me?"

His gaze flickered over to you, and seeing the expression on your face, he seemed to go rigid, quickly straightening his posture, tilting his head downward and giving one shake of the head back and forth. “Just one possibility… but never mind that.” He looked back up at you, eyes directly meeting yours. “You really should not have waited for me to invite you over to tell me about this.” He leaned back just a bit, releasing his grip from his cup, hands intertwined and resting on the table. “In truth, I’m a bit bothered to know that you would delay telling me this. You should have come to me as soon as you had this suspicion.”

You felt a twinge of guilt and distress at the tone of his voice. He always managed to maintain a certain calm, dignified tone of voice, but you could hear the frustration in it, even if restrained. “O-oh, I’m sorry. I just…” You averted your gaze, looking everywhere but at him. “I didn’t want to bother you. I know you’re busy.”

He shook his head. “I’m never so busy that your safety would not take priority. I would prefer it if you prioritized your safety as well. Don't be careless."

You swallowed, quickly nodding. "Y-yes, you're right... I will." Although the answer seemed obvious now, you reiterated your original question. “So… that’s a yes, then? I can stay here?”

He blinked, eyebrows raising as he realized he’d momentarily forgotten the question itself. “Ah, apologies,” he closed his eyes for a brief moment. “I got caught up in talking about the matter.” He smiled, that pleasant, soft smile of his that always felt so reassuring. “Of course. You don’t need a reason to stay here, you know. You’re always welcome.”

“Thank you! Thank you, I…” You closed your eyes, letting out a deep exhale of relief. “I… well, thank you for the tea, too, but I should probably go get my things. I didn’t bring anything with me because I just… wasn’t sure if—"

“No need.” His response was immediate. “I will send someone to collect them for you. It’s already nearly sundown. I don’t want you walking out there, given everything you’ve told me.” He paused, and then, in a quieter, lower tone, added, “…besides, I need to have a talk with some of the Shuumatsuban anyhow. I’ll see to it that they take care of that as well.”

You felt guilty for imposing such a burden, but you nodded your head. You knew he would insist upon it if you tried to refuse. “Thank you, Lord Kam…” you trailed off as his expression changed – a raised eyebrow, a soft smile of amusement. You remembered how many times you’d been over the matter now. “Ayato,” you corrected yourself, flashing a sheepish smile. It still felt almost wrong to your tongue, no matter how much he insisted, to be so casual with someone of his social hierarchal standing.

He merely chuckled, seeming to find it endearing. A few moments passed in silence. He stared down at the cup in his hands, grin slowly fading, eyes falling half-lidded. After taking a deep breath, and taking a moment to tuck a tuft of hair behind his ear, he abruptly stood.

“If you’re done, just leave everything on the table. I’ll send someone to clean up. Please, make yourself at home." He smiled at you once more, although this time, it seemed just a touch forced. "I’ll send someone to show you to a guest room in just a moment as well. And be sure have your keys on hand to give to them, they'll need it to get into your residence."

His voice was pleasant, amiable, and yet, there was a faint coldness to it, as if rushing things. You supposed he was truly worried, which was sweet, you thought. You still felt guilty about it all.

He took a few steps towards the door, sliding it open, but paused before exiting. He turned his head back towards you.

“You know, if you want to move here permanently, that is also an option that I would be happy to offer to you. This whole estate is very well-guarded. It’s far safer than the city.”

Your eyes widened. The statement, such a generous offer, caught you off-guard. “Oh, no, I… I could never ask you to—”

“Really. It’s no trouble. It would be quite reassuring for me to know you’re safe.” He waited a moment, but seemed to understand from your bewildered expression that you would not be formulating a response for the moment. He closed his eyes pensively for a moment, before opening them again to look at you once more. “Well, I’ll let you think it over. Someone will be by in just a minute, so, wait here for now.”

You gave an awkward smile. “Oh, ah… alright. Thank you.”

He only nodded, saying nothing more before exiting the room, leaving you alone in the quiet. For some reason, despite the reassurance, you still felt a faint hint of unease in the back of your mind… you concerns must have just bothered you more than you’d realized.

— 𝐈’𝐦 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞, 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭? 𝐢𝐢

✦ breeding their beloved god (yandere sagau!) feat. itto, diluc, scaramouche, ayato

✦ warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact

✦ disclaimer: afab!reader with no set pronouns, everything is consensual, religious/cult themes breeding kink, creampies, yandere tendencies,  monsterfucking adjacent (itto), size kink (itto), cumflation (itto), dick piercing (itto), semi-public (diluc and ayato), power play (scaramouche), cockwarming (scaramouche), sadist (scaramouche), kinda hate sex (scaramouche), bath sex (ayato), dumbification (ayato), overstimulation (ayato), implied degradation (ayato and scaramouche), unedited

Itto is probably the acolyte that most recently discovered you. Growing up, he wasn’t all that interested in the Creator, after all—what Creator would have people throw beans at him of all things? It wasn’t until recently, seeing your face in person when the Shogun introduced you to her land, that he realized he had been wrong this whole time and he will do nothing to stop atoning for his prior disbelief.

Whenever he would see you out, he managed to find you thanks to the rest of the Arataki clan, regardless of which high official you were with. This has granted many enemies he knows of, like Sara, to enemies he doesn’t realize like Ayato. Still, telling jokes and eating his favorite snacks with you is what he absolutely lives for. He is your obedient oni willing to go to jail time and time again if that means he can see your smile.

He could feel his heart thumping in his chest, cock pulsating and throbbing as he gulps to try to soothe his dry throat when your legs are splayed out to him—in the shabby, crackling shack he calls his home. He continuously swirls his tongue in his mouth, etching every sweet taste of your cunt in your memories before finally trying to push the tip of his cock inside of you.

Itto feared you would despise the inhuman curves and ridges of his cock, but you simply grabbed onto the sheets of the futon as he struggled to push his fat cock inside of you. He tries kissing every tear that drips from your eyes, feeling his stretch you out further and further as he pushes his way inside of you—the bulb of his length firmly nudging against your cervix wishing nothing more to push even further inside—body shivering from the cold metal from his Prince Albert piercing.

And even though he can’t fit, you’re shocked to feel your legs hooked on his arms as he proceeded to jam his cock inside of you over and over sharp teeth gazing over your neck. Even the oni teared up feeling your insides cave in, squeezing tight against his ridged cock. He can finally repent for being a disbeliever as you cry out his name repeatedly feeling him graze over the most sensitive parts inside of you.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head feeling his heavy balls empty themselves inside of you, a thick river of cum already beginning to stream down onto the damaged wood. Setting you down, he could only laugh patting the bulge in your belly—pressing it down to watch more of his cum drooling out of you.

Maybe if you accept his repentance, onis could truly be loved as you do him.

Diluc was motionless when he realized you were his beloved God. He remembered going to church with his father when he was young, hearing the gospel and the glories you brought to them. Those stories were the only thing giving him hope, like a lone flame in his life of darkness once he lost his loved ones. And here you are, confused, and oh so innocent from the atrocities of this world.

He was the one you would stay with at Dawn Winery as he made it a mission to make you feel like absolute royalty—the uncrowned King of Mondstadt wouldn’t have it any other way. Some of his favorite things to do were listen to your day as the two of you ate dinner. Hearing your stories of exploring the manor and asking about his past, always made the usually brudish man smile…that is until he began hearing that others, like that bard and his cursed brother, visit you.

He hated how quiet he would get after that, sipping his grape juice and pondering how he could deter anyone from ruining the sanctuary he’s made here with you, the heaven that he rightfully deserves after years of suffering. 

Dinners became much more interesting when his fingers plunged inside of you, as your body lay out on the luxurious grand table. His digits exited out of you, coated with your slick before he unbuckled his pants and pressed his tip along your folds—slowly entering inside of you. His eyes could only widen in delight as you pulled him closer to you, your legs wrapped around his hips to bring him closer and cock plunging itself inside of you. 

He didn’t care if his staff saw. He didn’t care if his regional God even walked in. All he cared about was connecting your soft lips against his, rutting into you like a madman and savoring the heaven you had given him. 

He could hear your muffled moans against your lips as his hands woved themselves with yours, placing them high above you on the table. He continuously ground himself against your aching clit, feeling your gummy walls flutter themselves against him. Even as his hips bucked, hot cum spurting out inside of you, he finally parted your lips—a string of saliva connecting you two—before brushing his lips against your nape. 

Please let him have more time in Eden, with his beloved. That’s all he asks for.

Why should he worship you, the Creator when all of his life has been suffering? Seeing you in person rattled the puppet, his body trembling in anger. Why are you looking at him in adoration? Weren’t you the reason why he could never have a heart, why one of your devolved followers, Raiden Ei abandoned him like a toy? As much as he hated to admit it, he so desperately wanted that look of want that you gave him.

Still, Scaramouche tried to avoid you left and right, but he always managed to come back eventually. He tried pushing you away with yours instead but seeing tears threaten your eyes was enough for him to succumb and apologize, holding you tight in his arms. He hated you…but he loved and craved you. How did this make sense? Maybe he was truly a faulty creation.

From this point on, Scaramouche began to travel with you claiming he was simply “protecting the creator” in an attempt to understand his feelings for you further. He couldn’t help but be irked seeing everyone worship and praise you or even seduce you. Wasn’t his feelings for you enough? Couldn’t you just be satisfied with that?

The frown on his face always curved into a smirk as you clung tightly to him, cock buried inside of you as the Ballader mockingly patted your back. Something was so thrilling to have the object of everyone’s admiration struggle not to cum by his orders. He could only shush you with a cruel smirk, feeling your inside clutch and try sucking him in further.

He pinched your cheek, causing a whine to erupt from you before snapping his hips up causing you to yelp. It was so utterly adorable to him, watching your lip quiver as he ground you against him trying to encourage him to finally plow inside of you. He chuckled, hand weaving around to pitch your throbbing clit instead, pulling on it as you cried out for him again before rubbing tender circles on it as your slick stained his fingers.

Suffer a little more, before he’s ready for you. It’s what you deserve for what you put himself through. Come on, tell him that he’s your favorite little doll already.

It was mere child’s play to convince the Shogun to let you stay at the Kamisato residence, after all, he and his little sister had proven time and time again how loyal they were to you. There was something about walking you through the halls of his estate, your timid smile trying to convince him there was a mistake about you being God was enough to almost let his inner mind slip just how cute and small you were to him.

Ayato knows better, studying who the Creator was and how to best serve them, but he couldn’t help but want to test theorize for himself—test if you were truly worthy of his worship. Seeing you pass every trial with a determined smile, made his heart truly flutter in adoration. He, out of everyone, knew it would be a matter of time before you got a concubine from the endless list of your devoted followers. So he was determined to be the one to seduce you first. 

It was rather easy getting you flustered. Simple touches here and there. Leaning in close to see if you’d finally close the gap between you two. Things were much slower than he would’ve liked, but he wasn’t sure what else he could do. Even as he sits in the hot spring baths, all he could do is sigh continuously strategizing before he heard the doors open.

Everyone knows this is the time the lord takes his bath, it’s in his schedule. When lavender eyes made your gaze, his lips could only curl up into a smirk. He would finally reap the benefits of this long political game he had set out to win.

Having yourself pinned against him, the warm, very shallow swatters of the bath—clit burning in overstimulation for his fingers continuously toying with it no matter how many times your body came in pleasure. His cock thrust inside of you rapidly, your legs propped up on his wide shoulders letting him rut even deeper inside of you.

He couldn’t help whispering how it was unbecoming of a god to cave into their lust as you did, but he would continue worshipping you despite your falls feeling your walls tighten, and back arch as you came yet again from him. Finally letting a groan out and cum inside of you, cock pulsating inside of you as it finally became to soften. 

A dark chuckle escaped him, pressing his thumb against your glossy lips, wiping the drool threatening to drip down. 

Aww how cute. It seems his precious God forgot their name.

Title: Clipped Wings.

Pairing: Yandere!Ayato x Reader (Genshin).

Word Count: 1.0k.

TW: Obsessive Behavior and Implied Imprisonment.

Ayato thought he might’ve loved you most, in moments like this.

Quiet and still, tucked safely into his bed, your eyes shut and your breathing steady and your body curled into his side. Your clothes had been left elsewhere, most likely in a heap on the floor or splayed across some inconsequential piece of furniture, allowing your skin to press against his without barriar, and he did what he could to savor your warmth without disturbing you, without doing anything to change the way your head rested on his chest or how your arms wrapped around his midriff – your hold on him growing tighter as you rested.

You were beautiful, exhausted and at peace, and he knew you’d be beautiful in the morning, too, as your rubbed the sleep from you eyes and buried your face in his neck, and the next day, when you’d take him by the hand and drag him off to do something that you’d never done before, whether that meant venturing into Inazuma City for another night of saké and street food or convincing an easily-swayed captain to ferry you over to Kannazuka Island to chase after vague rumors of abandoned mines and dead gods left to rot. Off to do something new, whatever that happened to entail.

If he had his way, this would last forever. Just the two of you, caught up in each other’s embrace, waiting for morning to come with a tempered sort of excitement. Together, with you by his side and him by yours, until the Gods eroded into nothing and all of Teyvat ceased to be.

Hah.

As if you would ever be so merciful.

You’d been clear about your intentions from the start. An adventurer, you’d called yourself, despite your refusal to associate with any recognizable guild or clan – a thrill-seeker travelling with the sole intention of seeing everything and doing everything. You’d been so blunt, admitting that you’d only come to Inazuma by chance, openly regarding his title and his disposition as little more than eccentricities to be examined and adored until something else, something more interesting came along. He was sure you would’ve loved Ayaka’s modest valiance, fawned over Thoma and all his many contradictions, but Ayato thought it would be wise to keep you to himself, for the time being. To protect his own pride, if not to draw out the remnants of your fleeting attention.

You were like a bird of the isles, flitting from place to place, satisfied never to build a nest of your own. Tonight, you might be content to perch yourself on his shoulder, to sing your sweetest song for him and no one else, but the moment something more rare, something more captivating, something more interesting caught your eye, you’d be off, looking for another place to roost – all while Ayato faded into little more than a distant memory. If you'd even remember him at all.

You’d been honest enough about that, too, speaking at length about all your many ‘friends’ in distant nations, comparing his estate to the sprawling manors of Mondstadt and the shinning chambers floating above Liyue’s harbor. You were happy to find yourself in his bed now, sure, and he had no doubt that you held some form of fondness for him when he felt your fingers in his hair and your lips on his, but already, he knew you were making other plans, wondering aloud if they accepted weary travelers on Watatsumi Island or how difficult it would truly be to make the acquaintance of the priestess of the Grand Narukami Shrine. He knew it was only your nature, that you meant him no harm by planning your departure so plainly, but he couldn’t help but feel just the slightest bit hurt. He couldn’t help but feel like his precious songbird was simply biding its time, waiting for an opprotunity abandon him.

A small, prying part of him was tempted to panic, to rush, to try and hold your attention for just a few more days, whether he had to plan an impromptu festival or burn the Almighty Shogun’s palace to the ground with his own two hands. If he gave you something to do, if he made sure you were well-occupied and, more importantly, well-entertained, then you might stay, might continue to let him bask in your bright laughter and sun-like warmth for just a while longer. It was a childish kind of hope, born of an adolescence with too little company and too many burdens. He knew better than to think it would be so easy. He knew better than to think that simply delaying your withdrawal would make it any less painful.

No, no. Ayato wasn’t so naïve. Ayato knew this wouldn't be so simple.

Ayato knew that, even with the most guilded cage he was able to provide, his songbird would still eventually fly away from him, and he'd be the one left longing for your music.

A longing he knew, already, that he wouldn't be able to endure.

You stirred as he sat up, but your eyes remained closed and you didn’t wake up. With no small amount of hesitation, he called out to the man he knew would be on the other side of his bedroom door – just where Ayato had asked him to be, should he make up his mind about just what to do with you before sunrise. “Thoma?”

There was a slight delay, a muffled voice. "Lord Kamisato?”

“Find a healer. Bring them to my door and keep them on standby, but don’t let anyone in until I tell you to do so.”

“Of course, my lord.”

Ayato waited until Thoma's footsteps were completely out of earshot, then raised his right hand - watching as a thin stream of water climbed his wrist, curled around his fingertips, and began to take shape in the palm of his hand. Such literal hydro manifestations had never been his specialty, but he was willing to push the limits of his abilities, if only for a few minutes. And a blade was such a simple tool, made to fill such a simple role – even the most inexperienced of vision users should’ve been able to summon one at will. He was sure he could manage, for your sake.

After all, the was only one way to truly keep a songbird caged, and that was to remove its wings entirely.

PLAY-PARTNERS

YANDERE KAMISATO AYATO

Summary: You are in an affair with the head of the kamisato clan, unwillingly.

Warning: May contain triggering content, implied sexual relationship, non-consensual touching, ayato being manipulative- the poor reader is stressed.

The headquarters of the Yashiro commission wasn't by far the most unlikeable place on teyvat.

It held some horrible recollections for the young lady sipping her warm tea at a table, apprehensive, and nervously pressing her lips into a thin line, glancing towards the male present with her, on the other side, eyeing her with what she presumes could be inquisitiveness. She anxiously swallows the bitter beverage, comprehending her next choice of speech.

However, every time she catches a glimpse of him, it's like she doesn't recognize what she was to say. It's the way he looks at her as if he's aware of whatever is fiddling inside that small head of hers, crushing down her meek defences and examining her core nature, then shaming her with his eyes alone.

Ultimately, she decides to remain quiet for fear of saying something she shouldn't and then silently lament it in the future. Instead, pondering when they met. She's a married woman, with no child, a husband who is very much overprotective of her, for good purposes.

The man abruptly leaned forward, and she snips off her reminiscence, stiffly perceiving his upper body, momentarily peeking at his equitable expression, and then dragging it onto the floating liquid in a cup.

"Thanks for joining me for tea on such short notice, I've been thinking about you a lot lately." He confessed, she feebly drew in a soft breath, making herself appear like she was in deep thoughts, but she wouldn't know how believable she seemed.

He resumed.

"I've missed you much. How have you been? Last I saw, you appeared quite happy."

Was he mocking her? When they met, she went all out needing to avoid him, what they did, was nothing more than a grave mistake. Something she'd appreciate being left behind and forgotten, to save her skin and sanity, yes, but, what more can she do to ease the burden of guilt.

She averts her gaze, preparing to answer.

"I'm fine. Just feeling a little under the weather I suppose..." She muttered, shyly deterring her eyes when the look he formulated made her stomach churn. She felt like she was being peeled by the skin.

"I see." He responded.

Subconsciously, her hand reached out to her belly, sensitively grasping it. He noticed.

"Is something the matter? You are very incommunicative today." He said, narrowing his eyes and slightly lifting his chin, she chokes on her word, startling herself and recoiling from the chagrin. Hesitantly connecting eyes, the urge to rend it away was consistent, nervously fidgeting unbeknownst to her worked up brain.

"Yes- I'm good, um... Just thinking about my husband." She untruthfully replied he heeded, said nought in return.

"Is it related to us?" He implored after an uneasy moment of lull and cognition, her shoulders mildly tough up. He noticed that as well.

"Not quite, but yes." She lied.

"Are you worried he will find out about us?" He asked once again, intrigued and somewhat, blissful.

"I wouldn't want him to, but if he does, and he doesn't want to be associated with me anymore, then it is alright. I've been an unfaithful wife." She muttered. His eyes dimmed a little, and he loosened his rigid posture, indulging in grim thoughts.

"And say, if you had the chance to re-marry, would you?" That tricked her mind, she visibly made a nonplused presentation on her face, puzzled but knowing his true intentions behind an indifferent, humane facade.

"I'm not sure about that." She mumbled.

Immediately, she added with an urgency in her voice, "I... need to go now, thank you for having me." He nodded, looking at her then, he stifled a smile.

"You needn't." He retorted.

Stopping the woman in her tracks, wordlessly questioning his intentions, her back turned and face away from his prying vision, he confirmed, "you mustn't leave. Please rest for a while longer." He finished, oddly his face did not compliment his tone. Instantly, buzzing all red alarms in her head.

She stared, wishing to ask, decided to keep quiet.

"You forgot to tell me one crucial thing." He said as he rose to his full height, approaching and closing the distance, the gap between their bodies small and insignificant. She slowly advanced backwards, her gaze trained on him.

"You are with my child, inside of you." He whispered with a grin, she stopped, her fingers loosely clenched and shallow breaths unable to reach her lungs. "How could you keep such a thing from me?" Gently he snaked his hand around her waist, his other, resting and steadily caressing her abdomen.

"If you try anything. It won't end well." He suddenly threatened upon nearing in on her body, leaning towards her ear. She didn't say anything.

He took the time to swiftly arrange her imprisonment.

"Maids! Take her inside and see she rests well, she isn't to leave without me." He sternly instructed, his dominant hand gripping her tight. Voicelessly, demanding her to move along soundly.

"I'll be back shortly. You rest up till then." He smiled, softly stroking her cheek, and then letting his hold unfasten. She looked down, obediently allowing the maidens to drag her inside.

Ayato watched.

Slowly turning on his heels to flee, to make sure someone in her life doesn't reap the likelihood to encounter her again.

Then, her name wouldn't need to be dirted and dishonoured.