this muse has been moved to my multi-muse over at @lessersinned ! All threads/interactions shall continue there, should you wish to follow me!
This blog is not being deleted, only the beloved muse moved; thank you all for the time here!

❣ Chile in a Photography ❣

ellievsbear

if i look back, i am lost

pixel skylines
Show & Tell

roma★
Peter Solarz
trying on a metaphor
Cosmic Funnies
Keni
styofa doing anything
Acquired Stardust
Jules of Nature

Discoholic 🪩


祝日 / Permanent Vacation
Misplaced Lens Cap
cherry valley forever

shark vs the universe

seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from Malaysia

seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom
seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States

seen from United Kingdom

seen from United States
seen from South Korea
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from Brazil
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seen from United Kingdom
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@lancedsilver
this muse has been moved to my multi-muse over at @lessersinned ! All threads/interactions shall continue there, should you wish to follow me!
This blog is not being deleted, only the beloved muse moved; thank you all for the time here!

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.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
lancedsilver:
𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 - 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲/𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐮𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭!
lancedsilver:
𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 - 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲/𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐮𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭!
bloodyknucklxs-deactivated20150:
telling me that you want to explore the possibilities of shipping with me isn’t forcing a ship with me. sending me a ship-related meme to test the waters isn’t forcing a ship on me. writing me a starter and having your muse refer to mine as a significant other / and or insinuating that my muse feels something for him/her without discussing it with me first is totally forcing a ship on me. so please, send me all the ship memes you want, come to my inbox and yell about shipping our muses; i love that shit.
requiem-on-water:
Eternal silence by Camelia Baican

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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soracities:
by Nicola Samori
The pain feels good. The pain feels deserved.
Jackie Kay, from Short Stories; “Why Don’t You Stop Talking,” (via violentwavesofemotion)
it’s 1 in the morning and I have my fourth cup of coffee for the day/night and I don’t work ‘til literally 5:30 p.m tomorrow let’s get it!
perceptiicns:
a menace, a m o n s t e r the thing that haunts your dreams a nightmare, my comfort i’ll thrive on all your tears
est; 2012 ● tracking: perceptiicns penned by ari ● writer 25+
lancedsilver:
𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 - 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲/𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐮𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭!

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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anamnesis
𝐃𝐀𝐌𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐄𝐘𝐄𝐒
continued from here with @lancedsilver
The voice that answered her from beneath the veil of silver hair caused the goddess to reach for her weapon. What was this voice– this melodious tenor that erupted from him? The Nuada she knew could not speak, his voice taken as punishment for his crimes. Had he atoned for them? Had he earned his voice back somehow. She had no way to be certain.
“You speak as if you know me, but the troublesome part is that you speak. The Prince I knew was forced to silence, a retribution for his crimes.” Her hand gripped the hilt of the dagger at her thigh tighter, palm sweaty with her hesitance. She would be remiss to harm him should it somehow truly be him, but he would need to show her more than words of flowery to persuade her. She was raised with the god of lies and would not easily fall for them.
“Show your face– let me look upon your eyes so I might recognize you.”
𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐋𝐀𝐃𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐑 𝐇𝐄 𝐊𝐍𝐄𝐖 would never be taken for a fool and this he fiercely admired about her. This, and, when his tongue was stilled, when no syllable would coax from his god-bound throat, all he knew was the reassurance she granted him when he was at his weakest.
He didn’t believe he deserved it then, and the same can be said for now. How would he be granted kindness when he never gave it to another?
He always knew he would thank her one day, properly.
He steps forward and his is the fire of knowledge, the truth that returning to life, with breath in his lungs, with the knowledge of his past transgressions would only create denouement that would eclipse into some sort of grand beginning.
The rise and the fall, and all in-between, because that is what it all had to be, the burning of those pages and the ripping of the spine of the book that had been his life.
Mother, father, sister...one left, and now, two.
“At my weakest, my Lady Sif,” the wayward prince begins, and he dips his head, his hair sun-streaked snow, “it was you who believed in me, you who did not turn me away even when you knew my sins.”
𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐰𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐡𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐧...
“You gave me shelter during mankind’s holiday. You were in black.”
And he lets her see his face, his feet taking him a comfortable space from her, aureate eyes finding the darkness of her own.
“I know not if penance has been served...but, something has changed.” Gloved hands find his throat, the voice that failed him before coming with ease, now.
“I know not its meaning - all I recognize is you.”
𝐬𝐮𝐛𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐮𝐬𝐚𝐥𝐬
HE ISN’T A threat anymore—at least, not to her—yet his presence still drives her mind the very same. what, then, are you, stranger? where does your HEART come from?
her head had remained somewhat lowered at his words, but none of her own come to meet them—only a fixed candlelight GAZE that flickered with her ever unrelenting CURIOSITY. it would have come to lean again should she have left herself in that thought a moment longer, but instead she gives a nod, taking steps to him that were now NOTABLY more sure, finally meeting somewhere HALFWAY.
“ if it becomes too much to walk on your own, i will take your arm. ” it is something she can only offer him, for she won’t cross whatever boundaries he may have, no matter how little good they may do for him. there is always the last option, to simply CARRY him, if it came to it. “ come. ”
and so she guides them through the wood, a near effortless feat at this point in her life: the forest floor KNOWS her footprint by heart.
it is soon that they arrive to a small glade, the trees sighing in their tranquil state all around them still. yearning wracks her body suddenly in her growing WANT for that much, and she only imagines her COMPANION ( if that was what she could even call him ) feels it as well, if not more than her, despite the marmoreal visage he consistently wore. she finds COMFORT in that it will come even sooner as her shelter rises into view.
it was humble and CHARMING—at least, in her opinion—in the way many unrefined things were. it was the product of much time and patience, effort, and craftiness, with STONES and even boulders LAID in unison to amount into a tall border in rectangular fashion, supporting a simply sloped roof comprised of mere wood and clay shingles. a little chimney even protruded from the back, and small gaps for windows LOOKING out the front and side. the entrance wasn’t much different, only blocked off by a leaning plank for something of a door. in it’s ENTIRETY, the structure was only what she needed to make herself comfortable, nothing more, nothing less. her pride, however, remained with that which SURROUNDED it: her own little garden of sorts. it almost grew wild and back into the forest, in shrubs large and small, flowering or not, but the air was thick in their HARMONIOUS perfume and they welcomed the most recent downpour.
they move past the plot where she EVIDENTLY held her campfires, in a little encirclement of more stone, but for now it remained an abandoned and sodden sight of only remnants of ASH.
she makes her FINAL glance up at him, assessing his current state as they enter, she before him. it is even darker within the shelter and so she quickly DIRECTS him to the bed, the whereabouts of everything but herself seemingly a bit of a mystery.
“ now, REST. ”
𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐎𝐄𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐘 because all he’s known is the art of warfare, the scent of battle, and sometimes, he imagines, he was born with weapons clutched in his hand. He does not have his sister’s grace nor her temperament - and he knows that he would have liked to be like her, to be content with what he had - but he knows that it can never be truth, can never come to pass.
Nuala, surely, somewhere else, bleeds and wonders what has happened to her brother for if he breathes, so does she, and if he is wounded, so then, will the pain be felt on her person as well.
If he could sever that bond to her, he would have done so many years ago. It was she who took care of his body when he lacked the discipline, and she who soothed the rage in his heart in the only way she knew how: with her words, with her kindness that he could never duplicate, no matter if he was given endless time on this earth.
He doesn’t think he wants this, and so, he remains silent to everything, and he will not comply to the indigo maiden’s request for her arm. He has suffered worse than this and he had no help then and so, he needs no aid now.
𝐒𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐢𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐜𝐤𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐩𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐞’𝐬 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝, such is the method of his own ill-tempered folly.
“That will not be necessary,” he replies, more of a quip meant in soft humor that surprises him, “thank you.”
He doesn’t know why he’s thanking her, as she is the reason he’s in this situation, blood as dark as tarnishing gold dripping down the meat of his calve but still, he sees no true reason to be impolite despite the less-than-ideal circumstances.
He would have done the same in her situation if not, much worse. If roles were reversed, there would be but a corpse.
Mercy, he thinks, is for others, it is what she embodies.
Her home comes into view and it is charming, quaint, stripes of moonlight making it seem as if it were aglow from within, bone striped with light. A house, someone once said somewhere, reflected the heart of the person living there.
Blood-glossed hand grips the door-jamb and he wonders if this is her heart that he is seeing and he’s unsure how he feels about that.
𝐓𝐨 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐡𝐢𝐦...𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐞𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐢𝐟 𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐬 𝐢𝐭.
“Rest?” Nuada inquires, his head tilting. “I suppose I should just let you tend to my wound as I slumber? Nay, indigo maiden - if I may have something to clean and wrap my leg, and the privacy to do so, I can be out of your way shortly.”
And still he sits, lowering himself to the bed without a trace of the strain this causes him.
𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 - 𝐦𝐮𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐬 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲/𝐬𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐟𝐢𝐜 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬𝐞𝐬 𝐮𝐩𝐨𝐧 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭!
biblicle:
❝ YOU NEED TO SIP ON THIS AMERICAN SADNESS …. you need to turn the radio louder , until you hear yourself on it . doesn’t matter if it’s a song or a WARRANT , just so long as they saw you . just so long as they know who you are . doesn’t matter if you’re wanted by the boys or the state , so long as you’re a GIRL WORTH A CHASE . ❞ ind . priv . kate fuller of el rey’s from dusk till dawn : the series . personals don’t interact .
𝐈 𝐌𝐄𝐑𝐆𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐄𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐃 - 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝑰 𝒑𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒊𝒄𝒊𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒗𝒆
BY LIKING THIS POST, you grant me permission to speak with you in length/to develop chemistry between our muses! Mutuals only/not to be reblogged.

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.
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐂𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐍𝐃 - 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒃𝒆𝒚
BY LIKING THIS POST you grant me permission to write you starters/to send you memes and everything in-between !MUTUALS ONLY/this is not to be reblogged by anyone but myself.
Edits - perm starter call/shipping call/etc - to come this evening! <3