📢Spoiler Warning📢

it’s so frustrating (and heartbreaking) to see so many writers going on indefinite hiatus / deleting their blogs because they are not motivated to write anymore. worst of all: people would always be like ‘no why are you leaving we don’t want you to do so :(’ but they were nowhere to be seen in our notifications beforehand. the lack of support on this platform is a huge issue and it’s a shame that content consumers don’t get the hint when writers have been waving the red flag for months. please support creators by rebbloging their posts, interact with them by leaving a few tags, a comment or an ask! if you’re too shy then hit that anon button and you’re good to go. show them that their works matter and you enjoy their blog, because when the decision to leave is made, it’s already too late.

VENTI LMAO

Hi! Can I request a childe x reader streamer au scenario where reader comes home late after work and joins childe in his stream? It would also be funny to see the chat’s reaction 😂

Childe x GN! reader | No worries !! Thanks for requesting , I found this super cute AAAAAAAHHHH

“Fuck it I died again. Oh wait -- I’m not supposed to swear, aren’t I? Anyway... Yo! Yo! Yo! Yo! ” 

Childe has lost again. For the fifth time this evening. The room was dark, and the silver light showed only his restless face, aroused in zeal. Pale cornflower hues move to the comment box. 

[Scara666] ... This sucks so bad. I almost threw my phone.

[i<3liyue] ... maybe you should update your h6 gun

[Windywhisper] ... Can you make a separate video on only how to use the power blast without leveling up?

[kaeyaSuperStrong] ... every fucking time i tried to play that game, my screen turns frozen help-

[Diluc_] ... @kaeyaSuperStrong; that’s because you bought your computer from the marketplace and you don’t have enough storage.

“This asshole literally blocked me. Move! Move! Move!” Childe groans, his hands stopping in the air. A hiss came, and then he whined. He would’ve cried right then. 

“Guys, I can’t -- like I can’t keep doing this. Every fucking round, my flag team keeps on getting captured..!” 

[Scara666] ... I‘m glad they’re destroying the shit out of you.

Childe straightens over his seat. “Didn’t I block you already, Scaramouche?”

[Scara666] ... I have other accounts you know.

“Well I’m blocking you again.” 

[Scara666] ... Let me just ask you a question.

The male felt as though his eyes could be trapped in the back of his head forever. “What? What is it?”

[Scara666] ... How does it feel when you’re over there enjoying yourself by playing the game you banned me in? That you, yourself, reported my ass just so you could rub it in my face that you’re just as bad as a kitchen sink.

“That’s it. I’m blocking you,” he then moves the mouse to the three dots and clicked block. His posture loosens and without Scaramouche, his chest becomes suddenly light and he could now focus on the game.

[Scara667] ... joins live

Childe jumps on his seat, this time, his eyes wild. “Just leave me alone!” he clicks block again. For a moment, it was peaceful. He went back to his game after a few minutes, encountering no problems becoming relaxed in the quiet air.

[Scara668] ... joins live

“Stop it, Scaramouche! I’m sorry for banning you, alright? Just leave!”

[Scara668] ... Try as you might, but you’ll never get rid of me.

[kaeyaSuperStrong] ... My keyboard is broken

[Windywhispers] ... I said can you make a separate video only on how to use the power blast without leveling up? You literally just avoided me awhile ago...

[$Zhongli$] ... Childe, will you send me the money so I could finally obtain the death sword?

Childe pays the comments no heed, he averts his gaze to the screen, attempting to make it through the next round without faults. He was close. Just barely actually. But still close. “--What are you doing?” came a voice from behind. 

The male leaps from his chair, tearing away his headphones in a meteorotic way. “So this is the game you’ve been playing all night?” you said. You step towards the screen, swerving away from Childe to see a glimpse of it, a glow fascination appears on your face. He pushes you to a distance and your brows knot.

“Let me see,” you pout and he averts his gaze. “No way,” he tells you bluntly. “Also, you’re home late. You better have a better excuse.”

“Are you filming a video?” you peek behind him. “What? No, wait --”

[kaeyaSuperStrong] ... real eyes realize real lies bro

[Scara668] ... Such a surprise for me. Who would have guess that anyone could withstand the sight of you? Is that your lover?

[Windywhispers] ... @i<3liyue; will you tell me how to do a powerblast?

[i<3liyue] ... @.Windywhispers; you have to level up

“Oooooh! Are you doing those youtube videos where a person sits on a chair and play games? That’s super cool! Hey Everybody!!”

“No!” Childe shouts, patches of red covers his cheeks, pulling you away from his computer. You laugh, shaking your head. “Aha, so mean,” your chuckles echo as you walk to the bathroom. From the moment the door shuts, Childe takes his mouse and ends the stream.

you ask him to open a jar that you superglued shut.

includes: xiao, zhongli, ayato, thoma, and itto.

warnings: gender neutral reader, fluff.

notes: please this is the favorite thing i've written so far.

xiao.

xiao prided himself on always being available when you needed help. so when you called him and presented him with a tightly shut jar, xiao was more than accepting to help you open it. 

except that he couldn’t.

xiao frowned when the lid didn’t budge. he tried again, repositioning his hands on jar, but still the lid refused to moved. and then again. and again.

it was only when you let out a quiet wheeze did xiao stop. he looked up and saw you, your face flushed from trying to hold back your laughter, tears almost coming your eyes. 

“what?” he asked, slightly defensive. “what are you laughing at?”

“you,” you got out between laughs. prephaps not the best way to put it. at that, xiao raised flushed in embarassment, and you rushed to catch your breath and explain. 

xiao couldn’t believe he’d been had. especially by you. he threatened to never come to your aid again, especially not for such another “stupid” request. when you pointed out that was an empty threat, xiao only stalked off, not saying another word. 

poor xiao. all he wanted to do was help you. now all he could do was sulk in the corner like a scolded puppy, a perpetual frown on his face for the rest of the day. 

you better apologize. 

zhongli.

zhongli had faced many hardships and challenges in his few thousand years of life, but the small jar in front of him was proving to be one of the toughest yet. 

he underestimated its potential when you handed it to him with what he thought was a simple request. zhongli might have even laughed if he got it on the first try after your futile attempts. but he had lost count of how many times he tried to failed to unscrew the lid, and he no longer felt like laughing now. 

“it’s like,” he said as he tried yet again, “you superglued it shut.”

“no, i didn’t.” your answer, too quick. too defensive. too prepared. 

zhongli paused mid attempt. he glanced up at you, and you saw the realization slowly dawn on him. “you did superglue it shut.”

you shook your head and said again, “what? no, i wouldn’t have, i swear it.” 

your smile was nervous and forced and completely guilty. it faltered as zhongli put the jar down, crossed his arms, and gave you a disapproving look. “was this really the best prank you could come up with?”

“i’d like to see you do anything better.”

“is that a challenge?” zhongli asked. he didn’t let you answer. “if so, then i gladly accept. just be warned, [you]. i won’t be holding back.”

his eyes twinkled with all things mischievous. although you might have won this round, you suspected that zhongli would have the last laugh after all. 

ayato.

ayato, ever the intellectual, didn’t at first try to unscrew the jar. instead, he immediately began to run it under warm water. then, very unceremoniously, ayato whacked the jar against the countertop. after a few hard strikes, he then attempted to unscrew the lid. 

imagine his surprise when his methods of loosening the jar didn’t work. he tried again to the same result. 

you should have stopped him then. told him it was a prank, had your laugh, and rested on your laurels. 

but no, you decided to wait and prolong the humorous display before you. you watched as ayato moved around the kitchen, grabbing anything and everything that could aid him in his quest to open your jar. a spoon to wedge open the lid. a paper towel to wrap around the base. a bottle opener to try and break the seal. 

every single method that could have been found on a random blog was now being done in your kitchen. when, at last, ayato exhausted all his various items after failed attempt after failed attempt, you expected him to give up. 

but his face somehow began more determined. you were about to admit to your prank when he cautioned, “stay back.”

you were about to ask why when the flash of ayato’s vision and the quick movements of a hydro sword stopped you. it was over in an instant, and in its wake your jar—

your eyes widened. it was cut cleanly in half. 

“well, that certainly did the trick,” ayato said, quite proud of himself.

you stuttered out a string of incomprehensible noises, unable to fully process what just happened.

“although, i might have gone a little too far.” it was only then did you realize that ayato had not only sliced the jar in half, but the entire countertop, too. cleanly down the middle. ayato shrugged. “oh, well.”

you really should have stopped him earlier.

thoma.

how could you do this to poor, sweet thoma? your boyfriend trusted you entirely and genuinely thought you just needed help opening a particularly stubborn jar. 

now he only felt bad that he couldn’t. and you didn’t have the heart to admit it was a prank, not after he called ayato and ayaka for advice on how to help you. not after he watched several youtube videos on how to open it. not after he consulted google for the better part of an hour. 

you knew that you had to eventually, but as of right now, you were in too deep. prephaps if you got him to stop trying and told him later, it would soften the blow. 

“it’s okay,” you said to thoma as he tried yet again. “it’s really fine. i didn’t really need it opened.”

but thoma would not listen. he steeled himself to try again and—

nothing. the lid didn’t budge. the jar remained perfectly shut. 

and then your worst fears were realized to be true when thoma put his head down and started to sob. you opened you mouth as he practically shook from crying so violently. the frustration had finally got to him.

“no, thoma, please stop!” you said frantically, immediately pushing the cursed jar away from him. 

“if i can’t do this for you, what can i do?”

“don’t say that!” you insisted. and then, without thinking, “it’s just a prank! i glued it shut—“

“so you admit to it?” thoma looked up. no tears stained his cheeks. his voice was completely normal. a hint of a smile even laced his lips. “you admit to pranking me?”

you blinked in surprise. you were played.

thoma trusted you entirely, and he knew you even better. the way you handed him that jar with an innocent little smile… he knew. he knew before you even opened your mouth.

thoma, one. you, zero.

itto.

the first time it wasn’t a prank. when you needed help the previous night to open a subborn jar, you asked itto because you genuinely couldn’t do it yourself. 

“that was nothing!” he boasted after opening the jar with ease. “i could do that blindfolded and upside down, [you]. are you sure you just didn’t want to see how awesome i am?”

“i loosened it,” you protested.

“yeah, yeah,” he dismissed you. itto continued in a carefree tone, “listen! it’s fine. i don’t mind help you out. i can open any jar you give me, i promise.”

you raised an eyebrow at that last part. and now, standing before itto once again, a jar you superglued shut the night before in your hands, you decided to see if itto could really make good on his promise. either that, or recieve a rude awakening. 

as judging by the amount of glue you used, it was going to be the latter. 

“can you please help me with this one?” you asked. your blinked your eyes up at him in a show of innocence. your smug smile was hidden underneath a small pout as you pretended the jar had gotten the best of you. 

“another one?” itto asked in mock exasperation. he grabbed the jar from you and said, “watch and learn.”

itto twisted, and—

it opened. the jar opened. itto had opened the jar as if you hadn’t poured an entire bottle of superglue on the lid and rim. 

your mouth dropped open. itto offered it back to you and asked, “why do you look so surprised?”

“i…” your voice trailed off. telling itto would only further fuel his ego. and you really didn’t want to deal with him talking about it the rest of the night. “i’m not surpised. thanks for… yeah. thanks.”

itto gaze you a puzzled look. then he shrugged and said, “what’d i tell you? i told you i could open any jar.”

you could only nod in agreement. itto had no idea just how correct that statement was.

omg how would Scaramouchie, Kaeya and Albedo react to a extremely forgetful s/o, like i've been even more forgetful lately 😰 example; i can forget things instantly after i say it 😞

- sincerely 👩‍🦲 (again)

An extremely forgetful S/O

Type-HC’s 🌷

Flowers included!🌼= kaeya x gn! Reader, albedo x gn! Reader, scaramouche x gn! Reader

Note🍀= HIII THIS IS RLLY SHORT BECAUSE IM REALLY JUMPY TODAY CAUSE IM GOING ON VACATION TOMORROW BUT I HOPE U LIKE IT 👩‍🦲ANON THIS IS ALSO MY FIRST TIME WRITING FOR KAEYA SO 😭

💐Your bouquet has been delivered <3💐

Kaeya

- in this case lets say you arent in the knights of favonius so its much easier to be forgetful.

- He finds it super funny tbh!!! He pokes at you all the time for it.

“Ah yeah im going to the library to go get the manual from Lisa!”

You come back to kaeya without a book, on the verge of tears

“WHY WAS I AT THE LIBRARY AGAIN?!”

- i swear he cant stop laughing at you😕😕

- He teases you allllllll the time, making teasing little nicknames that correlate to the fact your incredibly forgetful

- But enough of the teasing, he’s actually super helpful. In a flirty way of course but he tries his best to remember some things for you

“KAEYA I FORGOT MY UMBRELLA!!!!”

Your shouting and panicking when the rain starts to pick up

“Dont worry sweetheart i brought it with me.”

- he sighs yet stays smug as you shower him in praise and thanks cause he always seems to remember the things you forget

Albedo

- hes kinda confused at first ngl… like he thinks its some disorder u have 😭😭

- You always seem to forget about your duties and he tries to figure out ways to help you

- Klee has quite the bad memory but not as bad as yours, so he tries to help you as much as he can

- He goes about his free days putting post it notes on your mirror about the things you need to remember to do for the day

“Being your umbrella” “Dont forget your documents”

- Its so sweet 🙁🙁, overtime it became a habit of his to remember everything you need to bring or work on hours before you remember.

“I feel like im missing something… oh, my books-!”

“I have them here darling.”

Scaramouche

- hes so sick of it 😍😍😍

- Lets pretend you arent a fatui agent of any kind T-T

- His eye twitches everytime you march into his office and then panic as you forgot your purse in the restroom or something.

- Its hilarious to him sometimes but its so annoying too 😭😭

- He’s gonna jab at your forgetfulness all the time

“Oh shi i forgot my documents!”

“As usual.”

- but there is this one thing you tend to do, because of your terrible memory you also dont remember what you say and assume you havent said it yet

- So when you pull scaramouche into a little goodbye kiss hes quite blushy but returns to his work

“Always so persistent…”

- at the moment you get to the edge of the door you freeze and look him dead in the eyes with the most sincere utter confusion

“Did i already give you a goodbye kiss??”

- he just stares at you like 😦

- You assume not as the memory of your previous kiss was completely wiped out and you go to kiss him once more and he turns into a whiny blushy mess

- It happens all the time and at forst he thought it was an excuse to kiss him more but tbh you look so genuinely confused when you ask him if youve already said “i love you goodnight” or smth

cw: drunk reader

Diluc’s strength is no joke.

You barely remember in your late teenage years when, for some reason, Kaeya mischievously put Diluc and a man in one room together to do an arm wrestling challenge.

At the time, you were worried, because his opponent was twice Diluc’s size. The man looked like he could crush a watermelon with only his fists.

As the crowd gathered around to spectate the competition between the former cavalry captain and the giant, you watched with bated breath as the countdown went down. You mulled over interrupting their business, there were a lot of grown men cheering and yelling making bets on who would be the victor, you decided not to, because there was also a part of you that was curious on what would happen.

When someone hollered for them to begin, everyone expected some kind of struggle. But there was only a curt and loud thud.

Diluc, in one swift motion, easily overpowered the bigger man’s arm by pining it firmly on the surface.

You underestimated him. Diluc really took his training seriously, and it would be more evident ( in his physical growth ) as he got older.

So now, in the present, your sober self will probably regret this proposition you just made with him once you wake up tomorrow.

“We don’t really have to do this, my love,” Diluc says, a worried frown plastered on his handsome face. “You’re not in the right state of mind – you ought to go to bed.”

Archons only know where you gained your confidence. After two pints of beer in his tavern ( in which he vehemently disapproved of but allowed you to indulged only this once ), you were immediately red and intoxicated.

( Thankfully, it was closing time when you started sputtering out unintelligible comments and murmurs. Diluc wouldn’t admit it out loud, but he enjoyed the way home to the manor because you kept on spoiling him with small kisses on the cheeks, and how he was so “strong” and “so great.” It was going to be a secret between the two of you.

Now that you both were finally inside your shared bedroom, Diluc’s plan was simple: to give your affections back tenfold by relishing on your adorable self’s clinginess and cuddling you before succumbing to slumber. But apparently, after changing into comfortable sleepwear, you had other plans. )

“Am not drunk!” you exclaim, before clumsily pulling him closer. Diluc assists you by easing himself right into your embrace. “How dare you say that, you—“

“I did not even say that you were inebriated,” Diluc retorts, and you catch the small smirk on his kissable lips. Wow. You really want to wipe the smugness in his face by kissing him. Or you want him to kiss you. Eh, both is good. “You are staring. Do you need anything? Maybe we should rest now and—“

“Nuh–uh.” You shake your head stubbornly. You tighten your hold around your beefy husband who looks down at you with obvious softness in his scarlet eyes. “Arm wrestle with me. Please?”

Diluc caresses your cheek with his thumb. “I do not think that is a good idea.”

You grin, “But that’s what you think. I, however think that it is a good idea!” Unaware, you start to roam your hands under his silky shirt. Diluc visibly stiffens, when you reach certain spots in his defined muscles. “Pleaaaasee?”

You wonder if Diluc has caught on, with the way he begins to blush from your insinuations. For a moment, he sighs in defeat, and then presses his lips on your forehead. He whispers, “Alright.”

You celebrate when he takes you to the dresser. He gently lets you sit on the plush stool, while he takes another chair to be beside you. You excitedly swing your arm, waiting for his own, and you cackle in delight when his warm fingers intertwines with yours.

“Don’ flirt with me. ‘s not a good a strategy,” you claim, and Diluc surprises you by kissing you promptly on the cheek. “Diluuuuc. . .”

“I cannot help it,” He confesses, looking a little timid and apologetic. But you know that he may do it again. “But if that is what you wish, then—“

“Later,” you pout. It’s not like you don’t like his kisses. There’s a more important thing to do here! “e’re gonna compete first.”

As you explain the rules of arm wrestling to him despite the basics already ingrained in your brains, you fail to notice how Diluc keeps on gazing at you with such fondness.

“Also, just because you do lifts and I don’t doesn’t mean you’ll go easy on me,” you boldly say. Diluc has as advantage, sure, but you believe that you can find a way in breaking his victory streak. You just can feel it in your bones. Trust.

But as always, Diluc keeps on defeating you. But the good thing about it is that your husband continues to dote on you even more, even if you grumble at him.

With the loving ( and supportive ) glances he sends you while you attempt to beat him and random kisses he gives you every time he wins “my reward” he says—you repeatedly tell him not to flirt with you, and he, in turn, answers again with “I just couldn’t help it.”

Light that shines upon the world

— ☆ you can call me yours.

category: just fluff. and fluff. and fluff.

content warning: alluding to depression, mention of killing if you squint.

notes: just a short drabble. i love soft nanami who's down bad. hope everyone enjoys.

masterlist. dividers by @cafekitsune.

nanami's life had been... well, monotonous, as he words it. the corporate job pays well but it doesn't offer any joy— instead it drains him further. his coworkers, though most are polite and nice, don't exactly mix well with him. there's always a distance, and as a result, he has little to no stimulating conversations. well except gojo, but its more annoying than stimulating.

his whole routine had become one dull habit, the same thing everyday, not a thing different, not a thing amiss. his apartment felt more desolute as each day passed. he craved for something, something that breathes life to him, that breaks the cycle of monotony.

and so, in that tight routine of his, he always visited a certain bakery. he liked the breads there, not a sweet tooth like satoru but he had a preference for that particular bakery's goods. he usually visited before work and if he felt like not cooking dinner, he'd simply eat there.

that being the case, he was visiting again today. he had a majorly awful headache today. the dark circles under his eyes looked darker and the kind baker offered him a sympathetic smile before packing his order.

he heard the twinkle of the bell, some customer came in but he didn't look. rather the sound made the ache worse. he paid no heed to the customer coming up behind—

"hey yuna!"

his ear perked up as the sound of footsteps grew louder and louder, till it stopped, not behind him, but beside him. why did that obnoxiously loud yell not hurt the nerves of his brain?

he watched you engage in a warm conversation with the baker, your expressions so animated that he probably didn't even know his stolen glances had morphed to blatant staring. it was one of those cliché moments he saw in those teeth rottingly sweet romcoms, how the reality had apparently slowed down while his eyes zeroed in on you.

the slant of your nose, the crinkle of your eyes even the moles, both faded ones and prominent, the way your lips chirped away. like a sweet little sparrow.

"—nanami? mr. nanami?" the baker called out, her brows furrowed a little as nanami snapped out of his trance. god he prays none of them noticed that.

he nodded as he took the paper bag, taking his wallet out, seemingly nonchalant and unfazed of his surroundings but he was well aware of your stare his way. it should annoy him, he doesn't like to be starred at. yet he had done the exact same.

what a hypocrite.

he paid and turned to leave, his eyes catching yours for that second, and again everything slowed when you gave him the most beautiful, gorgeous smile he ever saw. it was warm like sunshine yet not too bright to burn the eyes, enough to melt the cold away.

he was in a dilemma for a moment as he stepped out and away from your line of sight. he pressed his palm against his chest, his brows furrowing as he wondered what the fuck that was?

but he forgot about it soon enough, went about his day and compartmented it in his brain as a mere blip.

you've gotta be kidding me.

yet again, after two days, he finds himself in the bakery again and this time you beat him to it. you were standing against the counter chattering away— quite the talker you are, while plopping a strawberry in your mouth. his eyes sharpened on the action, your lips and how plump it looked— dear god help him.

he cleared his throat before walking in, ignoring your gaze like he ignored the other customer's glance. there were scant few but it was easy ignoring them. yours, though, was quite heavy.

he ordered the same again, he didn't even need to say it, the owner already packing it away.

"you should try my new pastry, nanami. its well liked." the owner grinned as she gestured at the plate of pastry in your hand, and maybe to really sell her friend's words, you smiled wide, quite too exaggerated. you're overselling it, really.

"...pack that in too then." he uttered quietly before taking his wallet out, quite conveniently missing the way your smile stuttered a second, getting flustered by his voice that you heard so clearly for the first time. you gave your friend a shocked look and your friend nodded in return like 'i know right'.

he left and again, stopped to put a hand on his chest, his brows furrowing. again his heart raced like crazy, and he was concerned not because he didn't know what he was feeling— no he was concerned because he had never felt this alive. not in quite a while.

so he tried to categorise this again as a blip. shuffle it to the back of his head, unimportant like the ads you see passing by.

but fate works in obvious ways.

so everyday from then he sees her. he has your work clothes memorised, the shades of chapstick you use often, the different hairstyles, the orders you make often and the ones you avoid (that crinkle in your nose is cute), when you look like you're about to kill someone or in need of open arms. he becomes quite confident in his skills of secretly admiring, eavesdropping like its second nature to him. he frowns too when you frown, complaining about that creepy boss of yours. he wished that boss was a curse so he could get rid of him.

but as days turn to weeks and weeks turn to months, and the only interaction between him and you were stolen glances and polite smiles, that warmth in his heart dwindled. no he was still enamored with you, your smiles were a change enough in his destitute life, he loved every second of it.

but now he wants to horde it all, all for himself. he wants more. he wants to see more of those expressions, listen to more of your chatter till his ear bled and he'd still smile. he has these domestic fantasies. truly he's whipped.

but that ugly reality rears its head, reminding him he has no escape from the shackles of his loneliness. not once has he seen any interest from you, anything that could possibly mean you're interested in him more than the next stranger passing by. that he isn't just background noise in your life.

yet he feels its for the best, this purity untouched by his tainted hands. he was no worthy for you(not that anyone would ever be). he didn't know if he could make you smile like you always do, if he would be able to share your burden, kiss your tears away. he didn't know if he'd be enough.

he didn't know if he would be wanted.

but then he's broken out of his chain of thoughts, his coworker lightly shaking his shoulder and gestures ahead. and its like his world just— stops.

"this is y/n everyone! a recent join so please make them feel welcomed here!"

its like a fever dream. you. you're working here? his breath hitched as your eyes found his and he swore his world stopped like it did when he first saw you, you flashed him the warmest smile— not the fake, polite one. no, it was like it was meant for him and only him. a knowing one. like you came for him. you finally caught him.

and once the buzz settled down and his dumbfounded self sat back, typing away while his mind was in fantasy land— you came. leaning against his desk, you gave him a coy smile, your smile trembling like your hands that you hid behind yourself.

you were nervous— because of him?!

"so how does going out with me sounds, mr. nanami?"

"kento."

"huh?"

"you can call me kento."

reblogs are appreciated! :D

In Reca's ideal film, you'd be nothing more than a toy forced to spin at the twirls of a clockwork key ; a spectacle suspended in motion, complete allegiance to his direction, again and again in the palm of his hand. In that perfect shot, you would not rebel, fist against the surface of the screen in a plea to be leg go, no, you'd be easy to control.

“Do not be absurd, my dear! Has a bug chipped away at the film in your head? You would not survive a day away from my camera.”

The friction of his glove as it clasps onto the sinews of your arms clashes against the ricocheting waves of his voice in your ears. Cut! Cut! Cut! You need not return his stare to hear the panic reverberating through his head, just as he needs not respect a fraction of your personal space.

“My thoughts are perfectly lucid, director. I no longer wish to act under your guidance.” you push him back with a finger to his chest and he allows you to, his arms falling to his sides before rising with all the melodrama of a seasoned lunatic.

“What a way to say you wish me dead!” with a sweep, he's beside your stead.

“Have you forgotten your dream, my brightest star?” a brush of his breath against your ear, a firm grasp onto your wrist as it unfolds your hand towards the phantom of your wish, “What happened to that light that brought you to me?”

His presence, annoyingly, is as engulfing as it was the first moment you had the misfortune of meeting his acquaintance. A dwindling candle in a shadowed room, its flicker is too miniscule in comparison to the tenebrous monstrosity extending its talons towards the candle's light.

Contempt is the sole benefactor that keeps it alight, burning for a moment longer. A fruitless effort — rebelling is nothing more than running closer and closer to the dead end.

“It got snuffed out.” you tilt your head towards his pointed stare, in time to bear witness to the contractions of emotions vacillating in his eyes — building up up up before bursting forth in a supernova of laughter. Your feet nearly tangle amongst themselves as you try to move away from the disturbing sight, attempt thwarted by his insistent hand.

Reca's crackles slighter to a burdened sigh, ruby eyes peek from between the crevices of the fingers of his free hand, “And, you allowed it.”

It should be incriminating for a sentence that calm to fizzle your nerves that quickly, “Non.. nonsense! It was you who clearly—”

Your heart jumps as the axis of your vision goes askance, red bleeds and paints the corners of your mind. “I did what?” the sting of his nails sinking into the flesh of your cheeks wakes you, “Come on, you can do it, love. Think. What did I do to you, clearly?”

“You... you made me into who I am today and, I can never even think of standing in front of the camera without your direction.” you heave.

“Brilliant! Just like this! If you continue performing this well, it won't be long before we can step up from these boring scenes and move onto shooting the truly heart-touching moments.” it is debatable whether your legs surrendered on their own or were forced to as the Memokeeper catches you, dragging along your limp form towards his vision.

“And when every scene has been shot, organized and edited to perfection, I'll keep it secure from everyone's grabby hands — for, this film is to be viewed by us alone.”

Hatred is the frailty of the weak, their last act of defiance before they embrace destruction. In Reca's hands, it is nothing more than a misdirection to achieve the most perfect shot, malleable to his whimsies.