First Point: Requests.

Hello! This Is Hopefully The Final Time I Talk, And From This Entire Post I Will Do My Best To Be Clear

Hello! This is hopefully the final time I talk, and from this entire post I will do my best to be clear and out of my cheerful and friendly persona. This is, quite frankly, an itemized list of grievances in my time here that I wish to be sort out. This is not "beef". This is not "drama". I hate it when people describe problems as such when the post is about resolving issues. These are list of broken boundaries I wish would be sorted out. I am not fighting anyone. I am only stating that I wish to be treated better as an okayish writer/artist. Do not fucking attack anyone based on assumptions. I repeat: I am NOT fighting anyone. Get yourself out of that violent and unnecessary impulse and please just listen to what I have to say.

At this point I might just be on my Post-Timeskip Dimitri Arc. But anyways. I will be swearing. I don't want ANYONE giving advice. I just need you to listen and understand.

Let's start.

First point: Requests.

There's a TikTok-ification of Tumblr, it seems. And I'm not even using Tiktok to know what it is. Requests of part 2s in particular, irks me the most. But first off: I do not wish for a witch hunt. I swear to fucking lord if you do that I will block you.

This is why you'd rarely see part 2s in my masterlist. Because every time I do it, the requester does not comment. It is frustrating since if you've seen my works and not just interacting for the sillies because you think it's fun to be unhinged (Lord give me strength.), you might notice I take ample time to research, open wikis, and add lore to the story. Some writers' strength is to write poetically and make even a scene about brushing teeth feel so compelling, whereas I think my only decent skill is to come up with weird ideas and connect them. And it takes time, that's why I write oneshots with a complete plot. Fuck, it takes so much fucking time. Especially since I insist on doing things my way and drawing the headers too. So when there's radio silence, it's absolutely insulting.

But I think what insulted me the most was the time I stayed up till 5 AM to finish a request and made even the header moveable and all I get is "thanks, not what I wanted" I just. I. You didn't even pay me to do this, all I ask is idk, more words than that? I wrote 6k words and even did a colored drawing and that's it??? But I don't tell people I am insulted. I don't tell people that shit feels fucking vile. I wasn't raised to cuss people out. I grew up believing in a higher existence.

But now I'm convinced I'm not kindhearted.

I'm WEAK hearted. And I fucking hate myself.

And don't you dare tell me I'm not because when someone sent an anon ask telling me to kill myself you know how I replied??? I told them that we should talk because I'm worried that this sort of behavior will harm them one day.

Here's an old screenshot since tumblr's search system is a bit wack.

Hello! This Is Hopefully The Final Time I Talk, And From This Entire Post I Will Do My Best To Be Clear

WHY THE HELL WOULD ANYONE REPLY LIKE THAT. THATS LIKE GETTING STABBED AND SAYING "DO YOU WANT THE KNIFE BACK?"

WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH ME?

WHY DO I ALWAYS LET BLATANT DISRESPECT HAPPEN TO ME WHILE I SMILE???

DO YOU UNDERSTAND NOW?

HOW MUCH OF A PUSHOVER I AM? HOW MUCH I DON'T PRIORITIZE MY OWN WELL-BEING?

THAT I NEVER TELL ANYONE WHENEVER I'M HURT BECAUSE I'M AFRAID OF HURTING THEM INSTEAD?

I don't want to be mean. I just don't. But I'm doing my best to be mean in this post because civil dialogue has not worked on my case for a while now.

I'm sorry if this hurts you.

Hello! This Is Hopefully The Final Time I Talk, And From This Entire Post I Will Do My Best To Be Clear

But this is one of my many problems I've been losing sleep over so I just want to solve this one and be done with it.

Second point: complete disregard for boundaries.

I don't. Fucking know why. People send me horny shit in my ask box and I don't even answer it I just delete them immediately. I don't wanna hear about how you would tie up someone and do things to them. Maybe I'd get it as a joke and post the ones I'm almost positive are jokes but I can't read some as one. I can't. I don't even wanna explain more since I'm not sure if I'm a sex-repulsed ace just yet. I remember back then during the OCMC era of this blog I repeated like thrice that I'm ace in thirst anon asks but I still get em anyways. I do not understand this. What part of my personality makes that seem fine??? I don't get it. I don't get it at all. I'm not a rizzler. I am nothing like that.

Third point: "before you send asks, do you actually read my writings?"

This problem reached its height before that I made @faceless-ayato (now @dain-speaks) so I can categorize interactions and fics. Some people during might remember that idol au era. Or maybe not. Who knows.

It is not funny how many times close friends have told me my asks sound like people talking more about themselves and their lore and not any of my stories. Like. 80%. I'm not sure if that's Tumblr culture. Just correct me if I'm wrong.

Just something examples:

Hello! This Is Hopefully The Final Time I Talk, And From This Entire Post I Will Do My Best To Be Clear
Hello! This Is Hopefully The Final Time I Talk, And From This Entire Post I Will Do My Best To Be Clear
Hello! This Is Hopefully The Final Time I Talk, And From This Entire Post I Will Do My Best To Be Clear
Hello! This Is Hopefully The Final Time I Talk, And From This Entire Post I Will Do My Best To Be Clear

Just. Be real with me. Do not vote just to make me feel better.

Because why do I get nonsense stuff. Why the hell did I get an ask saying if I'd hold their hands while pooping? What is this? Tf is that about? Why did I get an ask about crazy room rubber duck? Am i too fucking old? I got several copy pastas of some twitter shitpost even way before the diluc theme and i don't even use twitter. I don't have a Twitter.

I think what broke me is when Navi told me whenever they look at my posts they wonder how I'm not in my villain arc yet. I thought it was just my two close irl friends who felt that way. I thought they were just a bit overprotective and over thinking thinks.

But I think it's clear I'm not actually being respected by some anons.

Most are just looking for enablers. When I open up about my own struggles, my fucking grief for losing the only person that understood me and having to hold their corpse one last time, my announcement that some of the new fics won't be dark and will have compliant readers because of my mental state. What do I get? Ansy, could've been darker.

That's the fucking reason why I made a theme poll. Because if I can't be treated like a person, I'll just give some other character the clown mask. I'm so sorry I can't fuck around anymore. Now you're finding out why.

I just doubt it so bad. It hurts how much I'm doubting that readers actually read. I feel like such a clown. What if all this time I'm proud to be a writer but people just see me as some caricature all along??? I legit can feel my heart grow heavy. I'm not okay with this. You can tell when I get an ask compliment I draw something as thanks too. That's how much I am grateful for that random drop of water. It hurts so bad. I wish I can word this better, I'm a writer damn it but it hurts. I'm fucking crying. Did people even properly read the times I neatly laid out the reasons why I'm not okay before? Do I have to be so emotional for people to understand? I laid it down on several occasions nicely, organized and definitely more professional than this.

You know my situation is fucked when only mutuals and fellow content creators are the ones who read my posts. I think this is because as a generation, this is no longer writer-reader relationships but a cold creator-consumer one.

Who am I to the rest of you grandkids? The Wendy's twitter account? Is that still a thing? What the fuck is happening. Why aren't I treated with human decency as other yandere writers? Where did I fuck up? Is it because I treat you guys as friends? Fucking tell me. Don't give me advice. Tell me where I went wrong and just that.

I will tell you my biggest fucking insecurity since childhood that I don't bring up often: I don't think I'm a "complete" human. Not some fucked up scifi unbelievable bullshit but I feel like there's always something MISSING— like it's harder for me to understand social cues than other people— like it's harder for me to process my own emotions. I won't go into details, maybe it's something undiagnosed- but that's why since day 1 I call myself a gremlin. I don't even tell you guys much about this because I want this blog to be a creative writing space where I can feel safe. But where did that led me.

So to be treated like some haha funni machine even when I'm being genuine hurts so much. It hurts. And the worst part is this is 100% my fault. And now I have to open up about this to get it to people's head.

Alright

That's all.

Here's your cup of ansy-tea.

I promise you won't hear from me more than you have to. I'll do my best to guarantee the rest of the posts are Diluc and writings.

I hope you all have a wonderful day!!! If you read this till the end, thank you. I appreciate you a ton! It means a lot to me. And genuinely please don't give me some advice. I already received plenty and finally listened to years of persuasion to just have this "villain arc". If you gave me one, I'll just assume you skimmed through everything and it'll make me feel even worse. Thanks!

Seriously. Tumblr isn't my only life. This is just one of my many problems (though it's mostly money lol). Don't make it seem like it is.

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1 year ago

FOR THE LOVE OF A DAUGHTER

FOR THE LOVE OF A DAUGHTER
FOR THE LOVE OF A DAUGHTER
FOR THE LOVE OF A DAUGHTER
FOR THE LOVE OF A DAUGHTER
FOR THE LOVE OF A DAUGHTER

summary: the price she pays for being the adoptive daughter of the outstanding dr. ratio wherein love and support are out of the question.

pairing: dr. ratio. . . hsr (the reader is included)

was it requested? nope

genre: angst, adoptive father x adoptive child trope, lack of love from a parent, burdened by academic pressure, visible favoritism, ooc dr ratio?

note: this bond is strictly platonic in the story and also the reader here is around her teenage years, let's say 16. this is purely based on fiction, nothing in this fic is really based on the character behind the story. i might also plan to make it a small series as a continuation of this story. wahahaha, this is the first time I'm writing a story after a year so it's to be expected that the quality is not the same as before and some parts might not make some sense.

FOR THE LOVE OF A DAUGHTER

In Dr. Ratio's assigned classes, only one qualified student has caught his interest among the other idiotic students he has to deal with daily. Witnessing another genius who stands on the same level as him is a rare opportunity for him to finally engage with someone who understands his complex theories and ideas.

This student's intelligence and passion for the subject matter reignite Dr. Ratio's own enthusiasm for teaching and push him to delve even deeper into the material during their discussions.

The subject itself is significant enough to warrant attention. Many students were initially intimidated by Dr. Ratio's high expectations as they strived to work harder in order to pass his challenging classes. However, envy brewed within some students as they witnessed the special connection he formed with this particular student, leading them to see them as a threat to their own academic success.

It is uncommon to hear Dr. Ratio lavish this student with such praise, but it is an absolute privilege to behold. The student is very lucky to have Dr. Ratio's mentorship and support, as it is clear that he sees great potential in them.

Unfortunately, it is not the student whom Dr. Ratio has adopted and formed a private father-daughter relationship with. The student who always received average grades and rarely stood out in the class is not favored by her adoptive father due to her lack of academic achievement.

Her name is [Y/N] [L/N], and though she is legally adopted, her adoptive father preferred not to share his surname with her, as he only wanted to be associated with excellence.

A found family? No, this was a mistake. [Y/N]'s relationship with Dr. Ratio is more transactional than familial, based on abiding by unrealistic expectations rather than genuine care and connection.

Burdening such weight upon her shoulders has led [Y/N] to constantly strive for perfection to gain her adoptive father's approval, creating a sense of pressure and inadequacy in her academic pursuits.

There were many uncomfortable moments where she tried to persuade Dr. Ratio to see her as more than just a student, but these attempts were often met with dismissal and disinterest.

One day, when she received an almost perfect score on a test she had worked hard to achieve, especially when the subject was not her strong suit, she finally felt a glimmer of hope that maybe she could prove herself worthy in Dr. Ratio's eyes.

At their shared home, she eagerly showed him the test, hoping for praise and validation. "Father, look! I did really well on my test!" she exclaimed, holding her breath in anticipation of his reaction.

Veritas Ratio merely looked at the test paper and scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. "Why are you so proud of this mediocre performance? You still have a long way to go before I will be impressed," he remarked coldly, crushing her hopes with his harsh words. She felt a sinking feeling in her chest, realizing that no matter how hard she tried, it may never be enough for her father's approval.

"Why can't you be like one of the top students? They always excel in everything they do," he added, his disappointment palpable in his tone.

He shook his head and walked past his daughter without a second glance, leaving her feeling dejected and unappreciated. The girl clenched her fists in frustration, attempting to battle off the tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

Upon her firm grip, the paper in her hands crumpled, almost accidentally creating a small hole where her father's words had pierced through her confidence.

This is not fair to her.

Aren't fathers supposed to be proud of their children's efforts and support them unconditionally? Then again, this is Dr. Ratio she is referring to; it's nearly impossible to earn his approval if she's within average.

She closed her eyes, exhaling deeply as her shoulders nearly fell in defeat. In Dr. Ratio's eyes, becoming the ideal student is the only way to repay him for all of his sacrifices to ensure her a comfortable life.

Her having a place to call home and food on the table every day is a great privilege that she was granted because of him. He gave her a second chance to excel in life to secure a future for her to proudly walk on. However, as a teenager in need of unwavering love and support from a figurehead, she wanted her father to be proud of her, or maybe love her the way she is.

Tears were already forming in her eyes when she opened them. She quickly entered her bedroom while trying to stop the tears from falling, but her quivering lips betrayed her attempt at composure.

The cries only increased when she entered her room, following her door lock immediately. She sat on her bed and grabbed the nearest pillow she could find, burying her face in it to muffle the sobs that wracked her body. "What should I do?" Her voice was shaking as she whispered to herself, feeling overwhelmed by the weight of her emotions.

One thing that differentiates her from her adoptive father is how she easily adapts to her own emotions. To her perspective, it's considered her strength, but to him, it's considered a weakness.

Another thing that the both of them can't relate to one another besides excellence and personal preferences.

[Y/N] removed the pillow from her face, revealing a visible damp trail of tears on the fabric. Her cheeks hurting from the force of her sobs, she took a deep breath and tried to steady herself.

She was beginning to zone out, her mind wandering to a place of solitude where she could process her emotions without judgment.

"I just want him to be proud of me," she whispered, her gaze undeniably sorrowful as she wiped off the last remnants of tears from her cheeks.

Many days had passed since the embarrassing event, and recalling the painful memory still brought a pang to her heart, but she cringed at the way she presented herself at that time.

She scoffed at herself. "I can't believe I let myself act like that," she muttered, feeling embarrassed and frustrated. "Father wouldn't even approve of my behavior if he saw me like that."

Once more, Dr. Ratio argued that expressing emotion was a sign of weakness, yet she couldn't help but feel exposed in that situation. This is yet another concern besides academic performance: struggling to maintain composure and control over her emotions in front of others.

She could not take the chance of listening to his tirades about self-control. Not when it means that she is being called "emotionally immature" for displaying even the smallest trace of vulnerability and that she is being compared to other students who managed their emotions better than she did.

In her father's sharp words, "Crying is meaningless and only shows that you are unable to handle your own emotions like a mature adult. Take an example from one of your classmates, who always remains composed and never lets their emotions get the best of them. Understand?"

It didn't take a guess who he was referring to; it was always the same student, the one who seemed to have it all together. A card that her father always uses whenever he wants to highlight her shortcomings and push her to be more like the "perfect" student.

She had no choice if she wished to gain his approval; she made a conscious effort to suppress her emotions and put on a facade of strength both in public and to her father, even when she felt overwhelmed inside.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a mild throbbing in her forehead. Gosh, even her physical pain is such a hassle. She massaged her temples, trying to alleviate the discomfort.

Dr. Ratio, however, was occupied conversing with his favorite student. It was the longest record to see him fully engage with someone other than himself.

They both exchanged their own theories or perspectives on the topic at hand, with Dr. Ratio showing genuine interest in his students's ideas and later giving praise for their insightful analysis.

It's a common occurrence between the two of them. After class, Dr. Ratio would sometimes invite the student to one of his discussions in his office, away from the idiotic students who always spoil the intellectual atmosphere.

No one could understand their conversations as much as they do, as they delved into complex topics with ease and understanding that surpassed the comprehension of others.

It irritates the gambler to no end.

Aventurine regarded the exchange with a hawk's eye. He is aware that the doctor has an adoptive daughter from behind the scenes, as he is trusted to keep it a secret from the public.

He isn't stupid enough, though, to ignore the neglect the doctor shows toward her. The doctor's indifference towards his adoptive daughter is evident in the way he rarely mentions her or includes her in any activities, causing Aventurine to question the doctor's responsibility as a legal guardian.

He planned to rile him up with the issue at hand privately today, but with the favored student present, he needed to get them out of the way first.

Before making another flamboyant approach to the doctor, the man quickly fixed his appearance. He opened the door widely and greeted the two individuals with a boyish grin, his arm resting on his waist in a casual yet confident manner.

"Well, well, well, what a pleasant surprise to see both of you here. I was just about to discuss something important with the doctor if you don't mind stepping out for a moment." Despite his friendly smile, he spoke with his eyes narrowed toward the favored student.

With an awkward glance at the doctor, the student got up from the chair and excused themselves from the room while Aventurine kept staring at them with a sharp gaze.

With an irritated groan, Dr. Ratio returned his attention to the remaining visitor. He asked sharply, cocking his head suspiciously, "What brings you here, gambler?"

Aventurine chuckled and replied, "What? You should be used to my presence by now, Doctor. I always seem to find my way into interesting situations." He dragged a chair closer and leaned in, observing him with a dead stare.

"Such as?" Dr. Ratio questioned, crossing his leg and tapping his fingers on the armrest. He can already smell trouble from a mile away, and Adventurine was always at the center of it.

Aventurine smirked. "To see you constantly hanging out with the top student instead of your daughter is a bit odd, don't you think?" He straightened his posture and slowly walked towards the doctor, his intimidating purple eyes never leaving his. "Don't tell me that you're forgetting your responsibility as a parent, doctor," he added with a sly grin, his face slowly inching closer to Dr. Ratio's.

Dr. Ratio's expression remained unreadable, but there was a flicker of unease in his eyes as Aventurine's words hung in the air. He is aware that Aventurine is jabbing him where his conscience lies, questioning his priorities and loyalty to his own child.

"Foolish question," Dr. Ratio finally replied, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of defensiveness. "I assure you, Mr. Aventurine, I take my responsibilities very seriously." Aventurine scoffed, his eyes glinting with amusement. "Oh, I'm sure you do, Doctor. But actions speak louder than words," he retorted smoothly. "Your child may need more than just assurances."

Dr. Ratio's jaw clenched, a flash of irritation crossing his features before he regained his composure. "You may think you know best, gambler, but meddling in my personal affairs is not your place," he shot back, his tone cool and controlled.

However, Aventurine could see the doubt lingering in Dr. Ratio's gaze, a crack in the facade that only he seemed to notice.

"Suit yourself," Aventurine chuckled, a knowing glint in his eye. "But remember, sometimes a little help is all it takes to make things right."

Dr. Ratio's expression hardened as he glared at him, his resolve unwavering despite Aventurine's words. "What are you trying to propose, gambler?"

Aventurine simply shrugged, his smile never faltering. "Just offering a friendly suggestion; leave the kid to me," he replied casually before turning to leave, leaving Dr. Ratio to ponder his words in silence.

Leave [Y/N] to Aventurine?

He clicked his tongue in disapproval, knowing that trusting the gambler was a risky move. He couldn't ever pass his child to his companion when he knew Adventurine's background was filled with deception and unpredictability. What does he know about parenting anyway?

It's funny that as soon as he thought those words, they stuck with him as well.

What does Dr. Ratio know about parenting? He knows that a parent must always let their children get involved in their academic pursuits if they wish to secure a future or be worthless. He knows that, as a parent, emotions are useless, a distraction from the ultimate goal of one's dream, and an inconvenience to be avoided at all costs.

Dr. Ratio knows what he's doing when it comes to raising successful children, even if his methods may seem harsh to some. He doesn't need someone like Aventurine to remind him about something he doesn't know.

"Insolent fool," Dr. Ratio mumbled, rolling his eyes at the thought of Aventurine questioning his parenting skills. He is confident in his approach and believes in the importance of discipline and focus for achieving success.

It will continue to be that way.

FOR THE LOVE OF A DAUGHTER
1 year ago

by the way if we're mutuals you're always free to

tag me into things [your art, games, etc etc]

"bother me" with asks

send me reminders if I missed something because I have memory issues and tumblr is stupid sometimes

ask for my steam or toyhouse or pinterest or p much anything tbh. if I'm uncomfortable I'll tell you.

1 year ago
Identified Martyrs Of The May 26th, Rafah Massacre

Identified martyrs of the May 26th, Rafah massacre

Not just numbers

6 months ago

idk wtf any of u are talking about but i click the little heart anyway <3

1 year ago

Love him

I fucking love how Argenti shows up for 30 seconds to fight us again, then he bails out Aventurine and just dips after

He's on some Pokemon rival level of bullshit and I love it

I Fucking Love How Argenti Shows Up For 30 Seconds To Fight Us Again, Then He Bails Out Aventurine And
2 years ago

Title: “Unlike Fiction” Chapter: 1/1? Pairing: Sampo x Reader, Gepard x Reader Reader: Gender Neutral / Illegal Underworlder living in Overworld Relationship Level: Sampo - Ex-Beau / Gepard - Current Beau   Trust: Sampo - Low / Gepard - Moderate Summary: You decide to show up for Gepard’s celebration for becoming Captain of the Silvermane guard at Serval’s request. However, things don’t go as expected… Warning!: Cursing, Thoughts of Self-Harm (No harm though!)

Title: “Unlike Fiction” Chapter: 1/1? Pairing: Sampo X Reader, Gepard X Reader Reader: Gender Neutral

Glimmering glass chandeliers, bubbling champagne, and a cast of incredibly wealthy persons that all seem to know one another only skin deep… 

This scenery is straight out of any romance novel conveying star-crossed lovers of opposing social classes. Though you had to admit, the authors really nailed it. You always thought that at least some of it had to be a little embellished. Yet just as they say, even the ceiling of this immense manor is painted with glorious recounts of Belobog’s long history with awe-inspiring detail. 

Your fingers squeeze around the stem of your champagne glass.  

The nobles that have gathered are all dressed to the nines. Some even go so far as to wear flowers that are worth at least six years of your own pay. You gulp when you catch sight of a few of the noble ladies standing off to the side in a huddled corner with handheld fans up, covering the lower part of their faces. Quickly, you avert your gaze.  

You already know they’re talking about you. Not that it matters. Gossip is a game for the small-minded and weak-willed. 

Though you can’t help a certain thought that keeps besieging your mind. 

Should you really be here?

“There you are!” Serval calls excitedly with no bother to maintain the rules of decorum as she hurries over to you.

Thank Qlipoth… 

Her outfit fits the atmosphere but you feel a sense of pride to see that she never took out her punk rock highlights. It gives you a sense of solidarity as there were a few things in your own look that you refused to change just for a single event. 

She definitely gets a few irksome looks, for the mere sin of existing. But like the magnificent storm queen that she is, she doesn’t even care. Immediately, you feel like you’ve found refuge the second she hooks her arm around yours. 

“Ugh, thank goodness that you’re here. I was about to lose my head just a moment ago,” she huffs lightly before leaning into you with a relieved smile, “Seriously. I’m really glad you came. I know this isn’t what you’re used to… but if I know Geppie, he’s going to love it that you're here.”

“You really think so?” you ask, still feeling a bit apprehensive. 

“Of course! Oh god. You should see how he lights up whenever he mentions you. I swear, you’re like his favorite subject to talk about these days. He barely mentions work anymore. Thank you, by the way. That subject was getting a bit tiresome, but I never really knew how to break it to him, you know? I’m just still sore after the whole… Well… You know.” 

Her cerulean eyes drift downwards. 

Serval’s sudden termination from the Architects was definitely a huge blow. It was still fresh in her mind despite it happening over a few months ago. Even so, you could still see the cracks it left in her. 

It was a miracle that she didn’t give up hope on everything entirely… 

You squeeze her arm a little to bring her back to the present before she can drown herself in the past. 

“Hey, let’s just enjoy ourselves then. We’ve been through hell. It’s the least we can do, right? We can even see this as, I dunno, reparations for stupid bullshit?” 

“Reparations for Stupid Bullshit. RSB. I like it,” Serval laughs with a delighted nod, gladly going with the flow, “Yeah. Let’s do that.” 

She squeezes you back. An appreciative thank you. 

The two of you end up tearing up the tables filled with fancy cocktails and hors d'oeuvres while chatting about everything and nothing. By the time the great big announcement comes around, both you and Serval are incredibly - and happily - drunk. Restraint isn’t exactly a strong suit for either of you. It’s probably why you get along so well.

When Gepard is announced as the next Captain of the Guard, you both end up hooting and hollering like fools. You get a few glances from those surrounding you and even Gepard breaches the usual protocol to peek. 

But he doesn’t smile when he sees you. 

Instead, his eyes widen, brows flying up. Then he turns to face front and center like the soldier he’s trained to be. 

“...” 

A sudden sick, sinking feel forms in your chest. 

What was that? 

It doesn’t help that you’re intoxicated. The wall that usually keeps the worst thoughts out suddenly isn’t there anymore. Worries flood you without hindrance. 

The dam of reason isn’t there to protect you. 

“The hell was that?” Serval says, only escalating your worries, “He saw us, right?” 

You purse your lips tightly, unable to reply. 

Gepard receives praise from both of his parents as well as a few renowned dignitaries. It takes everything you have to keep Serval from breaking into tears at the sight of Cocolia. Serval ends up holding your hand with such a tight grip that her fingernails dig into your skin. But you let it happen. You know how deep those emotional wounds have cut… 

She’s barely holding herself together. 

“Serval…” 

“Don’t tell me we should go. I-I deserve to be here too,” she insists shakily which is remarkably perceptive for own so heavily inebriated, “If anything… she’s the one that doesn’t belong here… This is my home. My home.”  

The pain in her voice pulls at every heartstring inside of you. But you have to be the least drunk between you. …Since sobriety is long, long gone. 

“I… need to use the bathroom,” you say. 

It’s not a lie entirely. Besides, she won’t question it. You don’t know your way around this place like she does. 

“Oh shit. Sorry. Yeah, of course. Come on. I’ll take you… woah. Um… Let me hang onto you.” 

It takes a little while to find a washroom. It seems Serval’s mind keeps getting muddled from having seen Cocolia. But you keep your patience. It’s what you’d want from your friend if this ever happened to you… 

By the time you get to a nearby empty washroom, you barely shut the door when you hear Serval breaking into tears. Your heart becomes heavier than you’re used to. Maybe because you’re pretty sure that you’re bound for one more heartbreak today. 

Gepard’s face the moment he saw you in the crowd has yet to leave your mind. 

As much as you’d like to hope… you feel that you already know.

He didn’t tell them… 

You sit there on the closed toilet for barely a moment before breaking out into silent tears. 

This… always… happens. 

You try to keep quiet as best you can. You don’t like expressing your pain to others. Your upbringing discouraged showing weakness of any kind. To those around you at that time… you were an incessant inconvenience. 

Even still, you hear a soft knock on the door. 

Serval sniffles just behind it. 

“Are you crying?” she asks with a genuine sweetness behind it, despite her own anguish, that just makes something inside of you crumble to dust.

A sob escapes despite your damnedest attempts to keep it in. 

You don’t want to be a burden. 

Yet before you know it, she’s already come in and hugs you tightly without reservation. You don’t remember how long the two of you bawl your eyes out, but it’s enough that Serval has to reapply both her and your makeup. 

 Every noble wears makeup and she’ll be damned if she lets one of her few closest friends walk around shabby.  

“Hey, hey. I know you’re worried…” she says while gently applying another coat of foundation on your cheeks, “But I’m telling you, my brother would never ever do that to you. Ugh… He’s nothing like that con man. Ugh… I’m so sorry that I even introduced you to that jerk. He just… He didn’t seem like that, you know?” 

She popped her foundation away back into her hidden dress pocket before pulling out some eyeliner to fix the mess under your eyes. 

“Geppie is different. I swear. I’ve never heard him tell a lie in his whole life.” Her motions slow as she remembers the look he gave both of you during the celebration of his promotion. “I… I’m sure he had his reasons for reacting so weird. Maybe he was just really surprised?” 

You smile weakly despite not believing that. 

“You’re probably right,” you fib. 

Damn. You were already exhibiting bad habits from said someone… 

“Don’t worry. We’ll talk to him soon.” 

And just like that, the two of you return to the party though it’s mostly over and done with. Only a few of the major boozehounds stay for the free alcohol while others try some last minute attempts to schmooze with those of higher standing. 

Eventually, Serval learns where Gepard retreated off to in search of some solace. 

“This’ll be great. I’m sure of it,” she says as she pulls you along. 

But with every step, you feel like you’re nearing an execution. The type that can tear the very soul in half while keeping the physical body intact. 

“Stay here,” she whispers to you, leaving you just outside the doors before dramatically shoving them open, “Little bro!” 

You can hear the shifting of his armor along with his footsteps as he turns to face his older sister. 

“Serval…” 

Gepard's voice sounds heavy. No matter how much you rewind it in your head, there’s no mirth in it. 

“Surprised?” she asks as she hugs him suddenly, “Didn’t think I’d miss your big day, did you?”

“...” 

“Gepard?” she asks before leaning back to eye him better.

“You shouldn’t have brought them…” he murmurs but it’s not low enough that you can’t catch it. 

The ground beneath you becomes like thin ice over a frigid lake. Each word he says produces a fresh crack, branching out to assure your inevitable destruction. 

“What? What do you mean? Aren’t you glad to see them? Gepard, you two are dating. Of course, I’d-” Serval then suddenly stops.

You drop your head as you feel an uncomfortable heat rising along your neck and ears. 

Mortification. 

She takes a step back. 

“You didn’t tell them?” she asks but she’s not really asking.

Her tone sounds utterly appalled.  

“I-I was working on it!” 

“Gepard! You said-!”

“I know what I said!” 

You can’t take anymore. 

Removing your shoes, your footfalls become nearly silent as you make a desperate retreat for the nearest open balcony. The freezing air greets you the moment you step out. With a shudder, you make it to the nearest portable heater, switching it on. With time, it glows a gentle orange that reminds you of the Geomarrow where you’re really from… 

The place that you should feel ashamed of… 

A tear escapes you but you quickly wipe it away, refusing to cry any longer. 

Then… in just that moment…

A crazy thought invades your mind.

This is very high up. 

…Anything could happen.

A despairing croak escapes you as you grip onto yourself tightly. 

No, no, no. Not these thoughts. 

Anything but these thoughts!!

It’s like fighting against the blinding cold winds of the Great Freeze. There’s no escape and before you know it, you’re completely lost within its windchill. 

If only you hadn’t left… Being alone and disturbed with far too much alcohol always makes for a tragedy waiting to happen… 

Please… Someone…  I don’t… I don’t want…

And then the improbable happens.

A light flickering in the distance. 

At first, it seems random until you realize it remarkably seems like the code that-

No bloody way. 

‘Hey there, friend.’ 

That’s what it says. 

Your eyes widen. 

No way, no way, no way. 

Quickly, you pull out the pocket mirror Serval had lent you. Well, given you, but it was way too expensive to keep on your person. You would sneak it back into the untouched mounds within her workshop later. 

For now, you pop it open and use the mirror to reflect the light to message back. 

‘Friend or foe?’

You wait with great anticipation for the next reply. At first, you think it might not come, but it does.

‘Friend?’

A desperate laugh escapes you as you can tell right away who this is. 

‘Idiot.’

He doesn’t miss a beat. 

‘Your idiot.’ 

You frown. 

‘Not mine.’ You correct firmly. 

Then nothing. A part of you gets tense. 

Did you ruin it? If so, then was it for the best? 

But those thoughts vanish when you finally see the light flash again. 

‘Are you okay?’  

Now it was your turn to give pause. Were you okay? 

Your hands trembled around the mirrors as fresh tears fell. This was a pivotal moment. You could feel it. 

The air felt like it had been sealed in an invisible vacuum. Static silently building within…  

You look toward where you came from.

Neither Landau has come for you… 

Too busy bickering, no doubt. 

You lightly bite down on your tongue to try and stop the tears but it’s futile. 

‘Not okay.’

The next response is so quick that you nearly miss it.

‘SOS?’

You tense. 

Your next response will be huge for what happens next… 

‘SOS?’ He asks again. “...” 

No. The pain is too much. You want out. 

‘SOS.’ 

You wait a few minutes there for a response or anything… but there’s nothing. Your shoulders drop with regret at showing even a hint of your vulnerability to an ex of all people. He probably just found your pain entertaining. Maybe he was taking pictures on his phone right now.

Well, might as well give him the best shot. 

You weep quietly from where you lean against the railing… only to feel a sudden rumble from the west side of the manor. It… felt like the kind of shockwaves a bomb gives. 

Did he just-?! 

The clanking of metallic armor stomping down the halls fills your ears as commands are shouted at length. You debate leaving the balcony but now you’re scared. What if you’ve been lured into a trap? What if you’ll be made the scapegoat? What if-

“Hey there.” 

You turn to see the dual dagger-wielding rogue lifting himself with ease over the railing. You were at least three stories high… Had he really just scaled all of that on his own? 

Those enchanting green eyes capture you in an instant as they seem equally mesmerized to see you again. A relieved smile spreads across his face as he tilts his head. 

“Heard you wanted a swift exit?” 

Title: “Unlike Fiction” Chapter: 1/1? Pairing: Sampo X Reader, Gepard X Reader Reader: Gender Neutral

AN: *sipping on Bicardi* Wow. I did not expect to write this… Thank you magic bat. 

For those of you that made it this far, thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it! 

This could continue but we'll see. Love Triangles are pretty fun though, eh?

2 years ago

🙏 please im invested

🎮 behind the lens !

a social media streamer au | scaramouche x gender neutral reader

🎮 Behind The Lens !
🎮 Behind The Lens !
🎮 Behind The Lens !

synopsis - you, better known as STARDUST, and BALLADEER have always been in competition for the top streamer spot on twitch, which is especially impressive since the two of you have never shown your faces. you’ve never been on good terms, constantly one-upping each other in matches and getting into petty arguments on twitter, causing your fans to also dislike each other. that’s until BALLADEER does a face reveal that breaks the internet with his good looks…which makes you realize it’s the same guy you went on a date with last night. the type of date that made you crave to see him again. the only problem was he didn’t know you were STARDUST and he was way different behind the lens than he portrayed himself online to you. should you keep your identity a secret to salvage the relationship or just let him go?

genre - enemies/rivals to lovers, streamer and youtuber au, college setting, crack, slight angst

status ongoing, chapters tba, no update schedule

warnings time stamps don’t matter, characters including y/n are portrayed as young adults, mentions of alcohol

↳ playlist

🎮 Behind The Lens !

STREAM IS STARTING…

featuring…

↳ stardust and friends | balladeer and friends

ACT ONE: raiding your heart !

01. kicking my feet and giggling

02. beat my ass

03. get out of my notifications

04. id donate for nudes

05. pls be ugly

06. now wait a damn minute

07. throwing up and crying

08. do you get deja vu

09. would you love me if i was bald

10. passenger princess

11. would you bark for me

12. breaking my silence

13. caught in 4k

ACT TWO: you’re live !

14. he’s cheating on us?!

15. damage control

16. chat going crazy

17. breaking character

18. #JUNGKOOK

19. drowned cat core

bonus — heizou’s theory

20. twitch con

21. tba

22. best of both worlds

23. and there’s only one bed

24. room service

25. gatekeeping the sexy

26. show yourself!

27. hold on i’m processing

ACT THREE: cut the camera !

28. please leave a message after the tone

29. you’re so fucking stupid

30. co-op irl! that’s called hanging out

31. plot twist we’re dating

32. that should be ME!

bonus — fuck me like i’m famous 🔞

tba

STREAM HAS ENDED…

🎮 Behind The Lens !

taglist- CLOSED ! don’t ask to be squeezed in, lmk if u wanna be removed or if you change your username

miscellaneous: i’m going to need to make a bunch of accounts for the cast’s fans and i suck at coming up with usernames so if you’d like me to use your username i’ll add you into the au as a fan to thirst over them and such just lmk ^-^ u can view it as urself in the au or not depending on the comment i give u, i don’t wanna make anyone uncomf so don’t think of it as urself if it does

🎮 Behind The Lens !
9 months ago

you see how i don’t throw a fit when someone writes a fic i’m not interested in reading? very mindful, very considerate, very demure. i’m not like you other girls who go on anon to tell writers you don’t like what they’ve chosen to write about. i simply do not read it and move on. very thoughtful. very cutesy.

9 months ago

ahhh so true!! i absolutely despise the male fanbase!!! howis it fair that they get to sexualize every female character…yet the moment a girl shows slight appreciation for a male character, they treat it like its the end of the world…and honestly, the male fanbase just seems really depraved and sleazy with such crude comments…

The way they admire female characters makes me uncomfortable… like they don't care about female characters's personality traits and potential, core, but just because they can be creampied in hentai… they would be seen in public gaming communities (including many minor members) post some sexually suggestive fanart, such as female characters licking popsicles, competing and jealous for Traveler, stepping on them, etc.

Their desires are exposed to almost all public spheres and require no warning. But at the same time, some incel players suppress others' desire to like male characters. If someone wants a male character, genshin is the "gayshit impact". This pretty much mirrors real-life attitudes toward desire. Male desires are normal, desires of other groups are shameful.

Ahhh So True!! I Absolutely Despise The Male Fanbase!!! Howis It Fair That They Get To Sexualize Every
Ahhh So True!! I Absolutely Despise The Male Fanbase!!! Howis It Fair That They Get To Sexualize Every
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klemen-time - Elysia ♡
Elysia ♡

22 - She/they/he - I'm so awkward

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