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Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
may PLEASE humbly bed on my hands and knees, for some of that delicious found family content with Giblet? He’s my favorite character but there’s simply NO content for him, which SUCKS cause I desperately want to take care of him the way he deserves to be! “I told you I wasn’t a hero.” YOU DONT HAVE TO BE! WHY? BECAUSE I AM HERE! I cannot even being to fathom the horrible things he has been put through, ESPECIALLY considering it looks like he’s been turned INSIDE OUT??? My baby boy… I am going to follow either way, your writing is addicting, but it would be a nice surprise if you do accept my request
I Found
Note || Of course I will, justice for our boy Giblet! I shall rectify this matter with quickness. You’ll have to pry the found family trope from my cold, dead hands. I’ll go with headcanons since you didn’t specify lol.
Character [Giblet]
He pretends he doesn’t need you (he absolutely does)
When you first meet Giblet, he’s stiff.
Polite. Careful. Cane tapping softly against the floor.
He calls you “Butcher.”
Not cruelly. Not accusingly, just unsure.
But the moment you kneel to his height instead of looming over him?
The moment you gently adjust his crooked frock coat instead of commenting on his inside-out skin?
Something in him softens.
You don’t look at him like a monster.
You look at him like a kid who’s been carrying too much.
From then on, he sticks closer to you than he means to.
You’re the one who fixes what others ignore
You:
Re-stitch his patched mitten when it frays.
Polish his cane handle so it doesn’t splinter.
Quietly tighten the strap on his eyepatch when it slips.
He insists he can manage.
He cannot.
If you gently scold him for walking on his bad leg too long, he gets flustered.
“I’m not fragile, Butcher.”
“I didn’t say you were. Sit.”
He sits.
Every time.
The Electric Bat Incident (After the Poppy Gel)
After he revives you with the bat — when you wake up disoriented and coughing up that sticky pink gel — he’s shaking.
You notice.
His flower-shaped pupil is wide. His good hand trembles against the bat.
You grab his wrist, “Hey. I’m still here.”
He swallows hard.
“…You shouldn’t have survived that.”
“Yeah. But I did.”
He doesn’t say it, but that’s the moment he stops calling you “Butcher” with doubt.
After that, sometimes it sounds protective.
Protective younger brother energy
Despite everything — despite the cane, despite the damage — he tries to shield you.
He steps slightly in front of you when unfamiliar toys approach.
He watches doorways.
He memorizes patrol patterns so you don’t have to.
When you get hurt, he gets angry.
Not loud. Not explosive.
Cold.
Very cold.
It scares other toys.
You’re the only one who sees the way his ears droop afterward — like he’s ashamed of how quickly violence comes to him.
You always put a hand on his head when that happens.
He leans into it before he realizes he’s doing it.
He calls you “hero” when you’re not listening
To your face?
“I’m not a hero. And you’re certainly not one either.”
Behind your back? To Poppy. To Chum.
“They’re… trying.”
Which is the highest praise he gives.
If he ever slips and calls you “hero” out loud, he freezes. But you don’t tease him.
You just smile and say, “Takes one to know one.”
He grumbles for hours.
You’re his anchor against The Prototype
When The Prototype is mentioned, his posture changes.
Rigid. Guarded. Smaller.
You always notice. If 1006 is nearby, you subtly shift so you’re between him and the shadows.
He pretends not to see, but he does.
And it means everything.
Sometimes at night — in the server room, in the Recycling Center, wherever you manage to rest — he admits things quietly:
He was made to protect children.
He failed.
He hesitated.
He didn’t kill when ordered.
You never let him finish that thought alone, “You chose not to.”
That matters and you make sure he knows that.
Sibling bickering energy
You absolutely tease him.
Lightly.
Affectionately.
You call him “Captain Cane.”
You threaten to bedazzle his eyepatch.
You once tried to sew a tiny star onto his coat.
He was horrified.
He secretly kept it.
The rare moments
When things are quiet, he sits beside you rather than across from you.
Close enough that your shoulders brush.
If you ever wrap an arm around him without warning, he stiffens… then melts, slowly.
Carefully.
Like he’s not used to being held without strings attached. If you fall asleep first, he keeps watch.
If he falls asleep first, it’s because he trusts you. And that is not something he gives lightly.
He doesn’t think he deserves a family
But he has one anyway.
With you, and eith Poppy. Even the misfits who refused to submit.
You don’t treat him like an experiment.
Not like 1202 or a failed protector.
Just like your stubborn, brave, too-self-sacrificing little brother.
And if anyone — toy or otherwise — dares to suggest otherwise? You step forward first.
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