hii i'm nemugyo, nene, yonaka3ji
20+ and you can use any pronouns
got active again recently on tumblr :3
i'm active (at least try to) ex-bird app and ig as well
i tend to get depressed / sick very easily so i go offline sometimes, but i always come back >:3
i'm a full time artist
you can check prices and tos here
i also make adoptables, so if you are interested please check my toyhouse! all characters available are there :3
â ď¸ i often post art with sensitive themes such as: depression, toxic relationships, blood, violence, noncon
so please do not follow me if you are not comfortable with these topics!
đ¤ fandom / i don't draw fanarts that much but when i do its usually from the following medias!
fear and hunger, dead by daylight, south park, slashers , horror and i got into overwatch 2 recently so there is a chance that i make some fanart in the future
if you have any questions you can DM me :3c
i also have a discord server ! you can join us 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.
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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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i have been really down recently - and yesterday i was feeling really frustrated with my art so i decided to make a study instead of working on a commission and i really like the results :)
thought some of you would like to see something different than my usual art hehe
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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Hi everyone! Have Iâve shown you this insanely detailed pattern I did for one of my classes which I did not actually need to do and had just misunderstood the assignment??
(A few mock-ups added to show the final effect! Which, I repeat, I did not need to do!)
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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Horza couldnât hide his scars. They covered every inch of his body, from head to toe, varying in size and thickness, texture and colour, some fading, others still dark and puckered. Angry. Painful⌠Pushkrimp never said anything, something that Horza was grateful for. He doesnât want pity or sorrow, for it does nothing for him. Thereâs a hint of recognition in his eyes, though, that Horza isn't so sure about. Itâs not a lie though perhaps he is merely hoping for such understanding from someone that seemed to care for him, even just a little bit. Pushkrimp never hid it, though he did look away from Horza, not wishing to stare, not wanting to view him when he was so vulnerable in a state of undress and in water that was nearly to his collarbone. Horza sank down, his nose just above the water as he looked over his shoulder. He wasnât surprised by what he saw but it still made him feel strongly.Â
Pushkrimp sat with his back to him, looking out alongside his beasts for any potential threats. Maybe he was nervous, as he was picking at his nails, at the grass and dirt as his caragors lazed about. One rested on his side, ears twitching as flies harassed him about his head. The other on his stomach, facing to his right, directly at his master. His yellow eyes flicked over to Horza, uninterested, then forward once again, yawning as he started to groom himself. Bored. Anxiety pooled in Horzaâs gut as an offer rested on the tip of his tongue. It was hot, quiet and Pushkrimp went without bathing for his sake⌠He never said as such, of course, he never would, but it's the truth. Horza swallowed as he toed at a smooth rock that laid just beneath one of his feet.
âU-Uh-â
Pushkrimpâs head perked up. He nearly turned to face Horza but stopped just short of doing so. Maybe he could see the orc in his peripheral vision. It wouldnât have bothered him if the uruk had turned to face him, if he faced him the entire time that he was bathing, but he didnât and he cleared his throat, nervous.Â
âE-Erm-? Y-Yey? H-HorzaâŚ?â He said his name so softly⌠Horza felt his heart slam against his ribcage. He nearly swallowed a mouthful of water but spat it out as he brought his head fully out of the water.
âY-You⌠can- c-can join m-meâŚ. If you wishâŚâ His voice died in his throat as he spoke. Pushkrimp didnât react immediately, almost as if he was straining his ears, uncertain of what he just heard. He hesitated a few times, seeming uncertain with what course of action he wished to take, before slowly turning to look over his shoulder.Â
Pushkrimpâs intense eyes were looking above Horzaâs head, almost as if he was afraid to acknowledge him. It was such a strange sight⌠Horza was accustomed to being ignored, largely due to his status as both an orc and a slave in Mordor. He knew what disgust looked like, what hatred and misplaced superiority looked like. This was not it. Pushkrimp leaned in on himself, hunching his shoulders slightly in a bid to look smaller. He was chewing on one of the corners of his mouth, enough so that Horza could see it plainly even when so far away. He swallowed thickly, starting to rock back and forth in a bid to soothe some of the anxiety that was raising his blood to his head.Â
â...yey? Are⌠HrmmâŚâ Pushkrimp stuck the nail of his thumb into the corner of his mouth, hooking it inside of his mouth and tugging on it as he ground his teeth against his sharp nail. Against everything that Horza has ever heard about Ferals, Pushkrimp took remarkable care of himself. Even when he was⌠Horza blinked and nodded beckoning Pushkrimp into the water with a raised arm. Horza was surprised that his hand wasnât trembling as much as the rest of his body was. Pushkrimp looked down at his arm, then at his face. Horzaâs face was tense but not fearful. He wasnât afraid of Pushkrimp. Not anymore. It seemed to be the other way around now, with Pushkrimp uncertain and hesitant, fearing to hurt him, to scare him awayâŚÂ
To hurt him againâŚ
âYou wonât hurt me.âÂ
Pushkrimpâs hand dropped away from his mouth. His brows knit together as he studied Horzaâs expression and posture. He wasnât appearing small before him. He wasnât hiding his gaze or his person. He looked at Pushkrimp, awaiting his response. âYou can say noâ hung in the air, but it wasnât what either Horza nor Pushkrimp wanted. He nearly started to pick at his nails again but only grunted as he stood up, nodding to Horza as he began to undress.Â
Horza's eyes lingered on Pushkrimp for far longer than he intended. He had already removed the furs that hung off his shoulder, laying it on the ground and was moving to remove the rest of his garb. By the time he had looked away, Horza had already seen much of Pushkrimpâs bare body, his eyes flicking back over to him as he tried not to stare. It was difficult not to, as Horza often found himself staring at Pushkrimp, longing to get closer to him but too intimidated to do so.Â
Pushkrimp was a large uruk but he was also very handsome to Horza. It was unusual for an uruk to be covered in hair. Not only did he have a head full of long and thick hair, almost as long as Horza was tall, he had hair on most of his body as well. On his arms, legs, on his chest⌠Pushkrimp often wore thick furs that covered most of his body, even his arms and chest, maybe especially his arms and chest⌠It was unusual but it wasnât unattractive by any means to Horza, though it wasnât the only thing that had caught his eye about the large, Feral uruk.Â
His scarsâŚÂ
That was one of the many things that always stood out to Horza. Pushkrimpâs scars⌠There were many across his entire body, from what Horza could tell. Gashes from claws, bite marks from wild beasts, dark markings from traumatic bruising⌠His eyes instantly fell on the large, thick gash that ran from Pushkrimpâs left shoulder down to nearly his right hip, thickest on his upper ribs, right above his heart.
The wound that he had given him.
Horza fluttered his eyes and looked down at the water. Knots formed in his stomach as that moment flashed behind his eyes. His throat began to squeeze shut and his breath came out in short puffy. Horzaâs heart throbbed in his ears and his eyes began to ache.Â
Itâs still so⌠so rawâŚ
Dark and thick with a shiny gloss of scar tissue. Pushkrimp never complained of any pain that he felt, not- not then and not now. Does it still hurtâŚ? How can he look at Horza and think that he would be the one to hurt him and not the other way aroundâŚ? The circumstances of that fight were terrible. Horza canât even bring himself to feel regret for it but a twinge of guilt is still squeezing around his throat like some sort of viper. A splash had Horzaâs heart dropping and his eyes pulling upright.Â
Pushkrimp was barely waist deep in the water that Horza was barely able to poke his head out of. He looked at Horza, then around, then back to Horza. His ears were a little dark as well as just underneath his eyes. As tall as he was, he ducked down, so that his nose barely poked out from the waterâs surface. His hair pooled around him, reaching almost to Horza as he stood a few feet away.Â
â...â
Perhaps this was a mistake⌠Pushkrimp looked miserable, the exact opposite of what Horza wanted⌠The large uruk blinked a few times, his reddish-orange irises grabbing the orcâs attention and pulling him to lock eyes with him. Pushkrimp exhaled through his mouth, bubbles forming just in front of his face. It was sort of cute in a way, if an uruk like Pushkrimp could be cute.
Which was something Horza thought was possible.Â
Pushkrimp closed his eyes, his shoulders dropping as he reopened them. He looked over to Horza, then away, almost sheepishly.Â
ââs⌠gâdâŚâ H-HuhâŚ? What did he-
Oh.
âItâs good.â
Horza felt his heart leap into his throat. Pushkrimp was terribly awkward but he was charming in his own way. Horza had to trust that he wouldnât say or do something unless he truly meant it⌠and he did believe this. Pushkrimp didnât have an aversion to intimacy but he seemed wholly unfamiliar to it. This was a change that he was ill accustomed to but instead of fearing he tried to embrace it.Â
Pushkrimp wanted to. He didnât want to waste this opportunity that Horza had broached with him. Was he making a fool of himself? Likely, but instead of ridicule or a look of confused disgust, Horza seemed in utter awe, looking him up and down though⌠Surely he must be mistakenâŚ? The little orc settled in close to Pushkrimp, not close enough to touch him but not so far that he was out of reach. Maybe he was testing him a little, to see what his intentions were, if he truly meant when he said he wanted to do right and wanted nothing but the best for HorzaâŚÂ
This would become a fixture in their lives. Neither thought another living creature would want to be anywhere near their bodies as they were, scarred, damaged, unattractive⌠But instead of revulsion and disgust being expressed, they both looked at each other through shy glances and a gaze that would sometimes be held for just a moment too long. Though⌠maybe it wasnât long enough⌠Horza wanted to be closer to Pushkrimp and he the same. The little orc has offered often to wash the uruks back but he was hesitant, in spite of the fact that he has done the same for him many times. Pushkrimp wasnât disgusted by Horzaâs scars. He didnât pity him either, though his heart ached and his throat squeezed shut ever time he remembered the fateful raid that had their paths meeting.Â
If he was only an hour later-
âPushkrimp?â
Horza said his name with a peculiar accent. It always made his ears heat up a little. He picked at his nails under the water, swallowing thickly as he sighed.
â...go un-âÂ
âW-Wha-?â
âG-Go-â Pushkrimp motioned over his shoulder with a tilt of his head. They both spoke in accents and dialects that were difficult to understand. Still, they didnât get nearly as frustrated with each other as they thought the other would. A very pleasant surprise. Pushkrimp hoped that his anxiety would soothe after this gets done and for a brief second, he forgot about it as Horzaâs cheeks darkened a little and his eyes lit up. Horzaâs eyes are so⌠pretty⌠No, maybe âhandsomeâ would suit him better⌠or would he prefer âbeautifulâ...? Pushkrimpâs heart seized in his chest as the little orc waded behind him, cloth in hand. There was energy behind his step.
Until he saw his back.
I-Itâs just likeâŚÂ
Gashes littered his back. Some mimicked symmetry, others were elongated, mismatched, hideously deep. There was no mistaking exactly what they were and the reasoning behind such punishment. The reason itself mattered not. It was cruel and they were as deep as they were faded. OldâŚ
His own scarsâŚÂ
Pushkrimp picked up on Horzaâs apprehension almost immediately. His initial, gut reaction was that of shame. Shame⌠His body sagged and his ears seemed to drop. Pushkrimpâs posture was no longer at ease and instead rigid. Expectant. He was anticipating something, though what he was unsure of. Ridicule? Disgust? Disappointment? Horza should be angry, perhaps. The suffering Pushkrimp experienced was nothing in comparison to his own, the Uruk would readily admit to this. His pains are old though not forgotten, still fresh in spite of all the centuries since they bloomed onto his back. He would never forget the bite of the switch against his back and his shoulders and the bitter words that shaped him into the thing he would become. Pushkrimp didnât want pity, he didnât even want understanding. He only wished Horza wouldnât despise him further than he likely already did.Â
But how could he hate him so?Â
The first touch was on his right shoulder, delicate and feather light. It made his shoulder twitch with enough vigor that Horza thought he had harmed the larger uruk. Pushkrimp wouldnât turn to face him, for fear of what he would see looking back at him. He didnât want to know what the orc thought of him. He didnât want to know if he even understood what he was looking at. Pushkrimp hoped he wouldnât butâŚÂ
He did.Â
Horza swallowed thickly and gently swiped the cloth against the Urukâs back. Even here, there was hair⌠He could have smiled if he didnât feel as though he would be sick. There were many, many markings on Pushkrimpâs back, nearly all whipping scars from his youth. Uruks greatly frowned upon being wounded in the back, something orcs shared with them. There were no markings of beast attacks, of other weapons of any kind. Only that of a whip against a young and defenseless Urukâs back. Horza lowered his head as he gently washed Pushkrimpâs back, a touch that he was totally unfamiliar with and trembled against. Perhaps he was a little fearful of it, of Horza in such a moment of vulnerability. But Pushkrimp didnât dare show much more of it, for fear that the little orc would stop touching him forever.Â
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