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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.
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Free to watch โข No registration required โข HD streaming
TW(s): obsessive and possessive behavior, implied psychosis and hallucinations, emotional manipulation, physical violence, graphic bodily imagery, threats of harm, crushing/grabbing injuries, derealization, unstable mental state, nihilistic ideation, and themes of coercive attachment and distorted perceptions of love and reality.
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Stasis in darkness, then the substance blue melting on his gyri and burning, hot pour of tar on flayed flesh. Forehead pounding as if a relentless hammer, Cloud cannot bring one image to his mind's eye without the jolt of pain tearing a lobe within his skull. For someone like him, an obliqueยน kissing his neck would be a mercy, yet as much as the thought seemed like a light at the end of a tunnel, It brought a silent dread of never seeing you again, not even in a fragment of sudden, uninvited memories.
As a shadow on a cloudy day, the twinge of his brain suddenly vanishedโ never there to begin with. All he had to do was think of you and the mere thread of thought put the pain to rest, were you the real oasis among a mirage?
โDon't goโ firm as a blade, he ordered. grabbing your wrist, pressing on the tender ring of a bone to feel your presence whole and to anchor himself to the very true left: you. It was always the damn you, with your twisted ways and honeyed tongue, luring him close then pushing him back in a heartbeat. If it was someone else they'd see another shade of him but it was you. Not a single muscle rippled beneath your skin, no sound left your throat even when his fingers threatened to break your wrist. The pulse sinking in your windpipe thrashed and rippled; a bird desperately trying to fly out. The color of your eyes never seemed so enticing till now, framed by your eyelids that spread so wide and panicked. The sight lulled him better than any twilight sleepยฒ can.
โYou think I'm losing my mind,โ whispered he, drilling it through your brain with absolute certainty. Cloud canโt see or feel how his expression contorts, but as of now, he can tell his lips to part and bare the very fronts of his teeth, something in an attempt of a smile. โBut Iโve never seen things more clearlyโ
For there is nothing that brings more terror than a man who is as sure as a prophet on his beliefs, Cloud felt a surge of strengthโ enough to burn it all down, to tear through every ghost that haunts him, to behead Shinra with the same thing he served it with. Once the veil of other worldly things was torn, you were next.
โYou are the only thing that is realโ The thrum of your neck and the twist of your hand bones are never fake. โI'm not letting you go.โ Into the red he'll jump, dragging you with him. He doesn't care anymore, to hell with the planet and its scum excuse of people.
In one swift move, he squeezed your hand, feeling the bones crush. You didn't scream; melting into the air instead, colors around thinning with seconds.
He stared, disappointment drawing itself on his face.
Maybe you were like the rest too, a fucking liar, except when time comes, he'll make someone honest out of you.
ยน: an oblique blade refers to a blade or a clean cut striking at a certain angle across the neck used in guillotine.
ยฒ: Twilight Sleep (Dรคmmerschlaf) was a medical amnesic state induced by a combination of morphine and scopolamine, widely used in the early 20th century. It didn't necessarily block pain, but it made the patient completely forget it happened and detached them from reality.
Tw(s): psychological obsession, codependency, unhealthy attachments, grief, yearning, emotional toxicity, emotional manipulation, threats of isolation or captivity, subtle physical harm (accidental or intentional pain/stings), blood, forced submission, and non-consensual confinement and restraint.
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Satoruโdespite digging his ankles in the sand of bitter logicโ fills his head with fragments of rose-colored glasses. Even for someone like him, life had its colors of rainbow to give. The color blue was one he loved to look at; the reason why he gave you a cold glass of blue Lotus. You and the flowers, to him, were two pieces of one shattered amulet, separated by the cruel blade of time and fate and left wandering in halves. He swears he sees you in them: they're solitary, away from the world's filth and vice, ought to wither one dayโ Satoru promises you that no human or curse would have sunken as long as he draws breath.
Suguru buried a seed of grief deep in his heart, atop a rib he kept sealed from anyone minus yourself. A true yearner: for the past good time โeven if it was in purgatoryโ, for the fleeting friends, and for you, utmostly. You may be near but you're further than the north star; there to be gazed upon only and not held. Abandoning him to all the dirt of the world and its monkeys, you left to where he had to claw his way into. A single spider lily sat clutched in his fingers, telling you that he wants to follow you to wherever you went; yet you had your ears filled with too many rose petals to bother hearing.
Kento crossed paths with many florists along the way to work the longest hours of his life. A sight so bright it eased a little of his unhappiness: roses as yellow as the sun; its charm striking to yours. The florist (an old woman with a grin of a child) told him how these roses were a perfect gift: joyous and caring: opening new paths to simpler yet fulfilling life with a belovedโ who wouldn't wish to be happy with you? Having you alone cures years of torment, let alone basking in your presence. Holding the fresh bundle of the flowers, he secretly wished you'd be sinking to his misery. rather be in an eternal inferno than alone.
Yuji doesn't think twice when he, all clumsy hands and fingers brushed with mud, uprooting the sweet peas that grew in the hedgerow of what used to be his grandfather's room. There was no room for forgetfulness in the house of his memory of their scent; everything that halts a storm in the mindโ just what recalling you to his mind's eyes does to him. Sweet peas should mean something sad, but he alters the meaning to make it of your permanent stay with him. He may be the strongest boy you've ever seen, simultaneously the gentlest soul that your departure tears at.
Megumi is at a loss for words; actions too. He spent a childhood circling his own garden with iron and thorns that he forgot how to pick the fruit of love. Despite his rigor mortis expression of emotion, he brought a seed of a sunflower, planted it in its own pot, watered it and let in the sun till the flower emerged into blossom. It should be enough to let you know how much effort and time he put into making it, specifically for you. and enough to lure you into his garden, with him only and your flower a third.
Yuta's devotion is a cosmos of its own: endless and sparks terror with wonder. If he can't let Rika one second out of his thought; he could never tend to remember forgetting you. bleeding hearts as his choice were never a coincidence. Yuta, no matter how he repeats how much he adores you, or what how far he does to show you you're dear, lets the withered-looking flower sing you a serenade of him turning into a monster for your sake. He can wear a smile as he unleashes a wild Rika to pin you next to him just like he wore it when picking the bleeding heart.
Toji is frozen to the marrow. not in a rigid, apathetic way; in a hot and heavy manner that tries desperately to conceal something. His attempts of affection make you laugh and he's seething. You loved flowers didn't you? This is his last card at trying to win you over: a stray thistle he found along the road. Toji's eyes never functioned to see the aestheticism beyond things; a flower is a flower and they're all pretty enough. He didn't bother clipping the prickles too: hopefully they'll sting you and maybe you'll realize what your mockery of him feels like.
Sukuna never asks, He commands. He isn't in need of your affection to ask for it; he demands to give yourself whole and kneel. Do you have to wait to harvest the forbidden fruit? or beg the treasure to swim its way to you just because you asked nicely? you'll have to soak yourself in blood to get all pleasures dreamed of. Sukuna loves to play at timesโ his game for today was handing you the dark hellebore he picked during a stroll you accompanied him in. He would twist his lips in a grotesque mimicry of a smile, taking your small palm in his ponderous one and put the broken flower. You exist solely for his amusement; of all other concubines, no one of them was given a present from him, nor as caged to his chamber as yourself.
Choso longs to be human enough. He'd trade a heart or a liver if it meant being warm to the touch, gushing healthy red or dazzling enough for your eyes. Although talking to you may seem easy, he senses those kilometers of distance between you, as if you were in paradise and him in limbo. His brothers cheered him, โA flower would be nice!โ and he took the risk. He wasn't versed in coquetry, wearing his feelings as sole armor and weaponizing a little crimson carnation he found to be beautiful as yourselfโ you more, nothing compares to being around you, is he greedy and selfish for wanting more?
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Synopsis: On your sixth anniversary, Leon brings a very special surprise for you.
Tw(s): emotional abuse and coercive relationship dynamics, manipulation, unhealthy attachment/obsession, implied stalking and dependency, relationship deterioration, psychological distress, possessiveness, body horror, graphic gore related to canon, preserved human remains, parasites, implied murder, desecration of a corpse, threats and intimidation, loss of autonomy, emotional blackmail, and horror elements involving a romantic partner.
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It was your anniversary, the sixth year being together.
You looked at the dagger in its box, edges sharp; able to tear a bone apart with a single swing. An old friend (now married) suggested a pocket knife as a gift and you found it to be suiting. Leon needed one, and you couldn't think of a better option; the weight of past anniversaries and their presents still lurking in the corners of your shared apartmentโ places kept score of memory too, walls had ears.
You chewed on your lips. This particular day of the year was a date you didn't want to come, not out of fear or shock, but almost like anticipating a bitter pill time you had to take, or a hellishly slow session you wished would end. It was completely out of your mind, remembering it by accident when he โover the phoneโ said he'll be back from Spain soon, and he brought a special surprise for you.
โYou'll love itโ He told you, as if said surprise was something out of Eden. โI've made it myself for youโ. that made you raise an eyebrow. As he continued describing the โsurpriseโ, you thought of two things: part how you never saw him this excited about the anniversary, other part on how much it'll cost continuing talking to him; the card was about to run out for twenty minutes of call, in normal circumstances you wouldn't even pay for ten.
Ever since, your curiosity about the gift's nature couldn't be helped: an antique copy of Don Quixote? a flamenco fan perhaps? there were too many guesses, and waiting was only there.
You could remember like Funesยน, the night he finally arrived home. He insisted on making dinner, decorated the table, same silver and china cutlery from 1998, lit candles and lowered the light. Attempt at living what he called during a โserious talkโ to rekindle the โgood old daysโ of your โloveโ: When he was a puppy fawning over your ankles and you a more tolerating master. You did try ending things many times; but at each he quickly sank too low to be left alone or twisted a cord he knew it'll keep you in place. You didn't hate him at all, it was just that it wasn't fair to give him a pale version of โloveโโ or what he thinks so. โWhat matters is that you're here.โ it made you nearly weep from pity.
You'd never forget how over the moon he was when clutching the pocket knife. His happiness was contagious; seeing him joyful made you smile yourself, maybe deep down you had that amity for him still present. Leon went through ten circles of hell in just six years, he deserved every atom of delight he can get. He was pure, wearing his heart on his sleeve, no matter how time honed him or spilled blood on his head, he'll remain a good man.
โI love itโฆโ He said, inspecting the knife for a hundredth time โIt's reallyโฆ exactly what I wantedโ He muttered with softness that almost bruised you. His thumb traced the edge of the blade, reflecting his features in the cold metal. He turned his gaze to yours, candles flickering through his blues; the puppy of 98 absent and replaced by a shadow that crossed hell back and forth.
โOpen mine.โ he whispered.
You took the gift back, fetching a box from within. Calling it beautiful won't do enough justice: a pink wood box, curving into a heart shape, rose bow glittering atop. You gave him a grateful smile, seeing how eager he looked as you unwrapped his gift.
โI was worried I wouldn't be able to match it,โ he began, voice dropping to a midnight chasm of an ocean. โBut after what I went through to get thisโฆ I think it's perfectโ for us. Happy anniversary, darling.โ
Such a sweetheart. You thought. All this trouble of making something when any other man could've bought something and called it a day. Leon flew kilometers ahead of any other man in terms of expressing loveโ too earnest and caring for any games. You took off the wooden cover after untangling the bow: a neat glass bottle cocooned in cream silk in an image of a corpse clothed in a shroud inside a coffin. A perfume maybe? Your fingers pulled out the heavy glass bottle; liquid inside it purling a little thick for plain water or perfume.
The first second you caught a glimpse of what was in, you violently flinched.
Jumping from your chair to maintain a distance from the thing swimming; you examined it from afar: a scorpion with its tail snaking around a chunk of flesh, stinger digging in. The entity's needle legs embraced the organ in a squeezing grasp, persevered in a gory hold. What in heaven's name is that?
โDon't you like it?โ Leon asked. a slight curt in his tone.
How would I even like this?! you wanted to thrash. You regulated your troubled breathing, pumps of adrenaline gradually calming if not vanishing before asking carefully โLeonโฆ what is that?โ you pointed at the bottle.
He tapped an index on the table. His expression contorted into razor โI saw how they worked over there,โ He said, a certain ferocity boiling in his eyes fixated on your form. โThey never abandon each other. They're physically incapable of being apart. They're oneโ the guest and the host.โ He explained, as if this was something you were foolish to not get. โI made the casing myself. I took the parasite and the heart and spent hours cleaning them. The Roman glass was hard to find. I wanted this to be the perfect gift for you.โ He stood slowly, eyeing you with contempt you've never seen before in his eyes. โShouldn't that mean something to you?โ
You drew in an edged breath. โWhose heart is thatโฆ?โ
For the first time in six years, he didn't answer a question you asked.
ยน: The protagonist of Jorge Luis Borge's short story 'Funes the memorious'.
Tw(s): emotional dependency, mutual self-destructive devotion, implied double suicide pact, bloodletting and self-inflicted injury, psychological coercion within a romantic relationship, possessive attachment, existential despair, isolation, grief, unhealthy ideas of love through vows of shared death and loss of individuality, intense emotional manipulation and fatalistic thinking.
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The moon gazed through the glass; forlorn and waiting for the horizon to spill red. The stars melted into the sky's page, obscured by complete darkness. Tonight it ticked the clock of your third wedding anniversary: three years of walking through roses and thorns, sunrises and sunsets and thirty-eight full moons. Satoru had driven to the Jujutsu Techโ the very place he proposed to you in, specifically that classroom, back at the empty corner near the last window, December the seventh.
Silence wasn't his forte, let alone the serene color of it that he wore at eyes as of now. For weeks, he didn't put his uniform or blindfold on and sported his black shirt and baggy trousers with a milk Haori cloaking him. You let him catch his breath; you knew that wearing the mask chipped at him everyday.
You'd wish you could lift any little of his pain, but how can a plucked bird fly even when the cage door opens? And fly to where when all horizons burned down? You only got to stand near the pedestal and never to free the bust.
If only the world caught a little glimpse of who he truly was. He's a flesh, blood, marrow, bone, nerve and soul under porcelain; not a means to an end. How much fear was in being locked away from the world to be kept? a dagger constantly honed against stone then tucked in a sheath to no end. Holding his hand was never enough, nor comfort was too.
โWould you go with me?โ out of the blue, he asked, burying the quietness.
โWhere?โ you tilted your head, blush of a confusion in your tone. You didn't need to ask, of course you'd follow him to abyss up to paradise. Abandoning him would have you killed alive.
Toru didn't speak, He let his eyes convey what couldn't travel through words. They were frozen moons; the simile itself emerging from thousands of images your mind's eye stored of them. They were too real to be gawked atโ only a few can mirror their rawness. You locked your fingers around his, a confirmation of your loyalty.
Uttering a word not, he pulled out a tantล from his Haori's inner pocket, the sheath wooden and flowery carved across. It was your gift for him on the second anniversary; you'd never let time wipe out from your memory how over the moon he was when he unwrapped it. What could be running through his head by bringing it here and now? He must've anticipated this moment solely for something.
Swift as wind, he uncovered the blade. The metal glinted silver in the moonlight, the sharp ending a canine in a predator's mouth. His index slid from the base, leisurely moving to caress the shaft before rising to the cutting top, a little trail of red following in an image of a serpent's spoor. A spider nested on your nerves: Satoru didn't flinch or thrash a bitโ his sensorium memorizing every letter of pain's language. Then, he gestured with his fingers, wanting your hand in his.
Just now, a bolt of understanding struck your head.
With a motion of a frightened animal, you throned his palm with yours. This is an atom of what he endures. You consoled yourself. A little wound is all it takes. Bracing yourself for the surge of ache coming, you closed your eyes. It was quickโ lightning splitting heaven, a bite on your fingertip soothed soon. Before you could catch your breath, he ordered, octave in his tone a bottomless ocean. โRepeat after me.โ
You nodded, hesitant but willing.
โEvery breath I take is yours.โ
You exhaled in an attempt to calm your racing heart. โEvery breath I takeโฆ is yoursโ
His comportment was one of a blind man seeing with anything other than eyes. โEvery beat I claim is an oath.โ
"Every beat I claim is an oath" you followed.
Satoru's thumb traced your heart line, solemn. โIf the rhythm breaks for one,โ His eyes held yours in an intangible grasp; if he could, he could look the sun in its eye. โThe song ends for both.โ
The color yellow, pallid and sick, washed your psyche. If this is what you thought it is, it was the point of no return. You promised you'd follow himโ your love was true, you wished you could bear his cross with him; so why are you having qualms now?
The words died behind your teeth. Winter breezed through your veins. Can you hand your own soul on a silver platter? He had already given his without any conditions. Nonetheless, Isn't it a double suicide to agree, even out of love?
He seemed to sense the storm swirling in you, eyebrows falling flat on his eyes in a thin line, eclipse dimming his expression.
He was disappointed.
โIf the rhythmโฆ breaks for oneโฆโ you finally mustered, to which made the clouds halt a little of their lour. โThe songโฆโ You could see your own epithet on the stone.
โ...Ends for both.โ
Satoru squeezed your palm, mixing your blood together.
It flowed as water on burning sand: oddly comforting, a lullaby and a halo moon gazing at a hollow valley. All of the hesitation, doubt and fright thawed to where it would never leave. your pulseโ earlier a flapping of a butchered bird, now walked on a cadence of the sea. The noise of the world retreated, a certain steady, singular thump echoing in your ribs.
โIt's over.โ he whispered. โIf you go I'll go. If I go, now you'll go with me too.โ
Your pulses synchronized together; it was a thing of utmost beauty, and of death too.
lmaoooooo u and thst bitch ur friend with cancer i hope she dies with it and i hope u get bombed
stupid muzzy sluts
Normally I'd ignore shit like this but i guess I'll stop being the older one and stoop to your level to whoop your red ass
My darling @nadielle is such a sweetheart and deserves all the best in the world and she'll recover eventually ,until then you can crawl into a hole and cry you parasocial coward freak + lmao yes we're muzzies thanks for the reminder that we're awesome ๐ฅฐ
Ghostwriting, editing, Art and fanfiction commission post.
Hello everyone.
Me and @aisheux found ourselves in what could be described as rock bottom situation: me plagued by mental and physical health problems (anxiety disorder, possible development of stomach cancer, anemia, hormonal troubles, and bone problems) and Aisha in need of financial aid for university necessities, extreme poverty, health issues and an abusive household that chips away at her mental health every day.
In order for us to support ourselves, we decided to open shared commissions: Aisha does art (check her commission post) and as for me, I'll handle what the title of the post tells: writing.
Kindly read carefully before sending a DM:
โ How It works:
Check my works to form what kind of an idea/concept you want me to do, pick what you like as long it's in my boundaries below (or here, free request rules apply to paid ones as well; the difference being that paid works are quicker to make and caters for anything you have in mind.) Then fill out the form below and message me via Tumblr DMS or ask for my discord. Communication via E-mail is preferable as well.
โ What Can I offer:
For fanfiction:
Reader insert (All genders).
Reader insert (of you specifically, with all what you want to be included about yourself).
Video games: Resident Evil, Final Fantasy7 (or the series in general), Devil May Cry, Doki Doki Literature Club, Silent Hill, Assassin's Creed.
TV shows: Hannibal (All media).
Any other fandom or media as long as I'm provided info on source material.
For ghostwriting/editing:
Anything that doesn't go against my rules.
I have to be provided the general idea of the plot.
Style:
One-shot.
Drabble.
Short prose.
Multi-chapter.
Light novel.
Short story.
Novella.
Novel.
Poetry.
Articles.
Blog posts.
Analysis.
Headcanons.
Genres:
Yandere/Dark content/Horror/Thriller/Crime.
Fluff/comfort/romance.
Gothic.
Angst/Hurt.
Science fiction.
Magical Realism.
Realistic literature.
Fantasy.
Epistolary.
Drama.
Psychological.
etc... I'm up for discussion for any other genres I haven't mentioned!
โ Prices:
$0.05 per word (Both fanfiction and ghostwriting).
So:
100 words = $5.
500 words = $25.
1k words = $50.
And so on.
The first draft will be sent to you to make sure it's in the line of what you requested, in case if there's an edit you want to be done, it'll cost according to the length of commission.
When the first draft is sent and you wish for editing a certain element, there's only three edits available per piece, each will cost $1.
For editing/proofreading, it'll be $0.04 per word.
As for role-playing, It'll be $40 per hour (on discord, Instagram...etc).
Extra services can be teaching English/or Arabic, creative writing, translation (Arabic to English or vice versa). Send a DM to inquire more.
Payment is via ko-fi/PayPal.
โ Special offers:
For first time purchasing 10,000+ words you'll get a 10% discount!
โ Rules:
The complete rule list (applies to both original fiction and fanfiction).
โ Samples from my works as example:
โ Form:
Username:
E-mail.
Commission concept.
Word count.
Message me here or send an email to: [email protected] to negotiate on the concept. I'm non-judgmental and willing to handle anything!
TOS:
You may not post/share/upload etc. any of my works without permission. Credit must always be given (in the exception of ghostwriting of course. that can be discussed in private).
All communication regarding commissions should be kept private unless permitted.
I am very open to all suggestions but please understand that I may not wish to write certain things. If that is the case we can discuss alternatives.
No refunds under any circumstances.
I require 50% of payment upfront. The final piece will be sent after receiving the other half.
You'll have to be earnest in commissioning. If I notice that you're a scammer/showing signs of one, you'll be blocked.
Once the commission is finished it will not be rewritten or tweaked further, unless additional editing has been paid for as per the pricing above. Further editing/tweaking is limited, and may not always be permitted.
I reserve the right to refuse working on/sending a piece at any time. This would likely only happen in an extreme circumstance, and communication is always encouraged.
I hold the rights to all my works and can revoke given permissions at any time.
It is your responsibility to read these rules and keep up to date with any applicable changes.
Canon properties and such belong to their respective owners. As much as I dislike profiting off something I believe it's free right, I found no choice under current situation.
If any of these terms are violated then appropriate action will be taken. Please make sure to talk to me first if you have any issues.
Be respectful and polite and I'll treat you with the same. After all, I have weight on my shoulders outside this blog.
I strictly forbid sharing my work to AI.
And that's all! contact me if you're interested or feel free to ask anything on DMS or my ask box!
Commission form inspiration (due to my lack of etiquette on the matter).
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.
โ Live Streamingโ Interactive Chatโ Private Showsโ HD Qualityโ Free Actions
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