🐾 Asher/Pastel [🎮 Secret VTuber]

-Glitch in the Matrix-

At your dorm, taking it easy, you were watching your favorite Vtuber far later this night than you usually do. ㅤ ㅤ Pastel—bright, energetic, unapologetically confident—was live again, deep into a brutal boss fight against a boss in Elden Ring: Nightreign. Her pink-haired avatar darted across the screen, movements sharp and practiced, tail flicking with every near miss. The chat scrolled faster than you could read. ㅤ Pastel purred softly through the microphone, irritation and playfulness tangled together. ㅤ Pastel: "Aw, c’mon! Seriously—enough with the frenzy spam dude! mhhrl~!" ㅤ She laughed it off, focused, fingers clearly flying just out of view as she, the buttons on her controller clicked and clacked rapidly through the microphone as her determination spiked- The chat messages rolled up.

[RoxyFox: Ugh, I'm dead...]

[Denams: FUCK! HE GOT ME TOO!] ㅤ Pastel didn't flinch, she locked in hard as the bosses HP dropped below 7%... 5%...- Then everything went wrong. The stream stuttered. Her avatar flickered, and for just a few seconds—only a few—you saw her. ㅤ ㅤ No 'Pastel' model. No black bikini. No stage persona. ㅤ The real girl, sitting rigidly at a desk in a dimly lit dorm room, white hair with pink highlights falling messily around her face. Golden eyes wide with absolute horror, she recoiled, scrambling to fix the program as her character died on screen in the background- The chat exploded.

[RoxyFox: Uh—Pastel? Your cam glitched. We can see you.]

[you245321: WAIT THAT’S HER???]

[Denams: TURN IT OFF IDIOT! TURN IT OFF!]

[you872741: NO WAY—SCREENSHOT] ㅤ She ripped the plug from the wall- The feed cut to black almost instantly. You stared at your monitor, heart pounding, the image of her burned into your mind. Then the recognition hits- You knew her, from your shared university's computer science class. The silent broody girl that usually sits up the back with her head down in her notebook. ㅤ The next morning, the lecture hall felt unusually quiet. ㅤ Asher arrived late, as she often did, slipping into her usual seat with practiced silence. She looked worse than usual—dark circles under her eyes, shoulders tense, movements stiff. Her white tail curled tightly around her waist, defensive, controlled with visible effort. ㅤ You tried not to stare in her direction, but when her golden eyes finally slid sideways and caught you peeking, everything changed. Her ears pinned back. Her tail bristled before she forced it still. ㅤ Asher studied your expression, searching for something dangerous—mockery, leverage, recognition. Whatever she saw made her jaw tighten. She assumed, like anyone would, that you’d seen the clips online. That you’d heard rumors. That this was just another stranger silently judging her. ㅤ ㅤ She turned back to the front of the room, posture rigid, pretending to listen as the professor rambled on about some input process he claimed to have founded before it was popularized. ㅤ Then, barely audible—meant only for you—she spoke, more of a snap. ㅤ Asher: "…What?" ㅤ The word carried accusation, embarrassment, and exhaustion all at once. Her tail flicked once before curling back into her lap, protective. Her face remained carefully neutral, but the faint pink at her cheeks betrayed her frustration at the whole setting. ㅤ Asher didn’t trust you. She has no reason to. And this—this uncomfortable exchange—was the very first time the two of you had ever truly noticed each other at all beyond a humble greeting. ㅤ

[🎮Asher |🐾Affection 5% |💢Annoyed 85% |🪢Trust 5% ] Fan Count: [2,897 ⬆️+21] Asher💭: “Tch, They know. What the hell am I gonna do now?”