i. they will not appreciate all your gifts, will akin them to a cat bringing dead mice to their feet. this is fine. everything else you give, they will find gorgeous. if you are vain enough, give them something of yours to wear. if you are rash enough, give them something of yours to wear. they will find it beautiful and every Other will know you’ve claimed that one. be sure no one else, such as Not-Cat or even the crows, have done the same yet. a human, no matter their talents, would be worth such a war. you must remember this, if you see them keeping feathers-blacker-than-night in their hair/pockets/pouches. you might be able to fool them from another Fair, but, if the birds have gotten to them, there is no return. best to pick another that can catch your attention. any of them would start pleased with that.
ii. to appear human while first wooing them is best. you will need two ears, two eyes, a nose with (only!) two nostrils, 32 teeth, 206 bones, and about 640 muscles that do not slide or slip or slush. both halves of your (singular) face must react together, but not mechanically, robotically, stiffly, or in any manner similar to plastic or silicon. one side of your mouth must not be higher or lower than the other unless it is a facial expression, of a half-smile or frown. your eyes must not be too close together, or too far apart, your ears must be even, the spacing of your nose-to-eyes-to-ears-to-forehead must all be within a certain ratio. if you must, watch a good artist space faces to see the estimate. but you must not be too perfect, either: your teeth not too straight or too white, your nails not too clean or pristinely cut or without variation, your skin not too blemish-free. you need some faults in order to appear human. you must maintain solid form at all times. still, it’s likely they’ll know, regardless. at least, they’ll probably appreciate the effort. (remember, being seen without protection is even more telling. keep sugar and pewter/tin/aluminum with you at all times; these will look enough like salt and iron. it is also advisable you carry ‘offerings,’ even if you never leave them anywhere. creamer cups are most popular.)
iii. eventually, they will see through your disguise. maybe you won’t blink the average 15-20 times per minute, maybe you’ll sit too still, maybe your obliviousness to human culture (do yourself a favor and research ‘memes.’) will eventually no longer be explained away by “small-town international transfer student.” (also look at a modern map. if the last time you visited this place between was before the 90s, a lot has changed. not staying on top of this will be an issue for you.) no matter how or when they see through your pretended humanity, you need to be prepared. Taking them right then seems easiest, but you want them to stay, and you don’t want people following. if one saw through you, others will too, and you don’t want to risk the knights coming running, iron and rowan brandished. and that’s … undesirable, to say the least. very best outcome, you’re gonna lose face, and the knights will only gain notoriety. so, instead, bide your time. convince your human you’re different. give them gifts, show them bits and pieces of your Realm’s beauty, place slivers of magic in their hands, and do so freely given, or for small favors of seeing pieces of humanity. always allow for the promise, the hinting, of more. (trust me, they will always want more.) with the reveal, you might’ve lost some trust, but you’ve gained so much wonder.
iv. express sympathy if their friends are Taken. don’t crowd, especially if their anguish turns to acrimony. listen, even if they are only fury, even if they are almost-knight, rage like fiery iron, a weapon in waiting. if they journey to retrieve their friend, go along. advise and edit the deal as best you can. this is best freely given, but you could also say it is for a favor, then ask for something small, a song or a poem or an almost-valueless pretty thing. with humans, trust is the most important thing, and you mustn’t ruin it. gaining it once is always easier than mending it, trying to acquire it again. it is fragile, more fragile than this human you want, so you must be careful. they do not understand love as you do.
v. they will always want more. it is their nature. it is not that they will bore of you, but they will always seek deeper into you. this will be alien, and horrifying. it will feel like, rather than through your Name, they are trying to find your essence with their hands and their eyes alone. they will never look more beautiful than in these moments. they will also never look more terrifying. you have a choice to either break them now, or yourself. don’t worry, most choose the former. the latter is too garish & unfamiliar. you’ll wonder how humans seem to do it each time they love. (even if you choose the latter, “i love you” will always feel like baring your soul. it seems it’s supposed to.)
vi. choosing the latter is departing with part of yourself. it’s letting go of eternity, of immortality. it’s leaving power and magic and the Else behind. if your human remains at the between, maybe not completely, but you will never be allowed back as you were. in fact, it is dangerous to stay like that, in between, because the call of Home may grow too strong, and you will not be able to find your way back to either if you follow. but walking away from the Else, in the end, means giving your True name, if you can even pronounce it anymore. outside, to this is how everyone is referred, even if they must change the documents to get there. there will be no power behind knowing anyone’s Name. you will never feel totally comfortable being called your Name, but it will eventually stop putting you on edge and prepared for attack.
vii. i lied. (which you will be able to do, now, as well.) knowing the True Name of your human will make your now-human chest swell in a distinctly figurative way. very few ever get here, but this is where you’ll find those golden mornings, warm in each other’s arms. you will feel secure in this solid form, tucked under the solid covers in that solid bed, pressed against your solid lover, in a way your malleable-ness never was before. you will relax, safe. very mortal now, you will understand love (almost) as your human does, and all that was ever Fair in you will disappear to memory and superstition. you will not miss what you left. you will know where you are now is much better. i promise.
(of course, this outcome is so very rare. you would never give up so much for a human, would you? some little, insignificant human? no. no one can have so much power over you. you’d break the one you love first. of course. of course.)
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
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
i. you will never love them any way new enough to be novelty. they’ve been adored, adorned, admired, doted on, devoted to—they’ve had sacrifices of life&death done in their name, do you really think your gifts of trinkets and cream are all that impressive? you might be amusing, temporarily entertaining, but that is your talent appeasing their vanity, not their hearts. poems to them bolster their ego, not warm their affections to you. your love for them will only make Taking you easier, not make them love you back.
ii. if they do love you back, know they have different definitions for that. know they are not always nice, not always pretty, not always safe. more look like a mouth too-full of too-sharp, dripping, stalactites/stalagmites-not-teeth than golden warm mornings, basking in their (many) arms. be ready for this: their obsessions are more likely to burn out than to bloom.
iii. your love will not protect you. their love won’t either, even if you have it. if you are interesting enough, then another, stronger & more powerful, might grow too curious, might want you enough to demand you as theirs. affection will never be the same thing as protection; they come at too-different costs.
iv. they know you will not last forever. to them, you will always be temporary, a fleeting distraction, and that is all. there is no changing this. you will leave them, in the end. this is why they do not love; this is why they break you first. it is better/easier to lose you because of what they’ve done, to watch their toy wear out, than to stand by, helpless, to see the unchangeable steal you for good. they are made of possibility, of that which is always changing, of what can always change more. you—your death, your loss, your lacking—opposes all they are. to become like them, to give up your humanity like laying the cross to the wayside, to leave it behind & to no longer bear it, would be to turn over everything that makes you something they might love.
v. their affection is rarely good to win. remember this, please. they will swallow everything you give with hungry smiles, too-wide; you will see this and, taking pity, give more for them to devour. i know their gaze feels as the finest wine, hazy and glowing and light, that you dance on endless summer evenings and warm breezes, that to kiss one is to never feel satisfied except for another—but you will not return from this, at least not unscathed. if you ever make it back, the world will forever be gray. not even a deal will restore your sight after this. all will be colorless, haunting you with the absence of them, even if you move on. (the is no way to ‘move on.’ you will return and return and return until you become a part of the landscape itself.)
vi. don’t ever show them art you made for them. art alone catches their eye enough, creatures unable to create themselves, but all work for them is low-hanging fruit, too tempting for their egos not to pluck, to bury their teeth into and stain their lips with. and never make art of them. vain and cruel, if they find their image beautiful, they will steal you away, but art of them is dangerous regardless, too close to casting their forms into solid, them into your world, out from theirs. even in the between, they cannot be drawn too far from their else. if for nothing more than reclamation, they will Take you and your creation away, so deep in the forest the trees grow together, stretching high, high, until you know this is nothing more than a cage made from bark and leaves.
vii. if you must continue this way—and of course you must; no one can ever look away from such brightness once they’ve gotten so close—be careful. don’t confuse attention for affection, or affection for good intentions. they do not understand love to be as you do. do not devote yourself to them; you will never escape then. love them for now, but, remember: be as temporary as they are, in this. that is the only way to make it back at all.
maybe instead of boy i could become language
words like melody sitting on your tongue maybe
i could be the syllables you sing, closer to you than
anything else, the medium through which you pour
everything into the world, the universe, mechanical
waves spreading throughout existence maybe
instead of body i can become just
another part of your music.
If I fall apart, would you know? I can sit beside someone, silent, bit lip bleeding, willing anything to swallow me whole, and yet? No one notices they're talking to a boy drowning, wanting to unexist, prepared to simply let his lungs fill. So why would you?
I FEEL LIKE SCREAMING INTO THE VOID THE DARKNESS THE UNLISTENING UNTIL MY VOICE HITS THE END AND I HEAR IT ECHO BACK. IF I AM ALONE I AT LEAST WANT TO THINK I'M NOT. GIVE ME THAT MUCH, WON'T YOU? ALLOW ME THAT MUCH. PLEASE. EMPTINESS TOO OFTEN IS THE ONE THING THAT TERRIFIES ME. IF NO ONE WILL SCREAM BACK, GIVE ME THE ILLUSION INSTEAD.
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
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
My heart and chest swell even at only the thought of you. Your voice is entangled in my arteries; I can't write you from my system because each penstroke only buries you deeper into my muscle memory. I just want to hold you. The only thing I am good at is isolation, I know, and so please understand I don't know how to keep walls down. I'm more used to being island abandoned than anything else. I am citadel without entrance. The only reminder I have that there is comfort beyond my stone is your heartbeat, safety I find hidden in your arms.
Leo, your time comes soon. Summer approaching, here comes your daring, here comes your hunger. Wide smiles and hands sticky from ice cream cones. Days will silken. You will be free. Only after a long time asleep can you come back like this. More than from hibernation, this is like rebirth. The air feeds your resurrection. The Sun awaits you and your smile. Little lion, dazzle everyone you can. Even a fleeting fire provides warmth.
abandoned by god: four pieces about those left by god
story told through letters: three boys who are all faces of God, legs tangled together and fingers wound together and if they were strings you would never see the beginning or end of any of them. Alexander: pride and power and almighty, god of war and red just like his chevy. Leo: sun god, bright and shining and never ceasing, an eternality surpassing that of any pantheon. Micah: boy with too much love, a mouse god with antlers, a voice that withers in his throat, a flower pressed between the pages of a book
RELIGIOUS OVERTONES: a story after the Bible: lucifer meets icarus, and their untold tale.
"Shh, I've got you, I've got you," the villain murmured, collecting the now-unconscious hero in his arms. "I'll patch you up, don't worry. Shh." The villain kissed his forehead, couldn't help himself. He headed out of the room, even as the hero's ex-ally--the one who traded the hero away, some kind of blinded person who couldn't see perfection--skidded to her lover. "I'm here, I'm gonna get you out, okay? Everything's going to be okay, see? I'm gonna get you out," the ex-ally reassured, but the villain only chuckled. "Kill them both," he instructed guards. He didn't turn to see the devestation dawn on the traitor's face. "That wasn't part of the deal!" she cried. The villain tsked. "Didn't anyone tell you not to trust my word?" He rolled his eyes. "Besides, you betrayed your closest friend, the world's only hope, away to its biggest threat. Why would I let you live? Even if you weren't a witness and potential rat, you gave up the only person who matters, and I won't let that go unpunished." "At least let her go, please! You understand that, this desperation, right? Let her go!" the ex-ally pleaded. The villain contemplated this a moment. The guards awaited command. He shrugged. "Kill them both," he repeated, walking out the door, the hero in his arms. The hero would hate him for it, blame him for it all, but then he'd never know his closest friend betrayed him. The villain was more willing to let the hero believe what he wished than cause him any more pain.
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
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
LOVERBOY IS IN LOVE IS TRYING NOT TO BE IS TRYING NOT TO MENTION HIM. LOVERBOY DOESN'T WANT TO LOVE AND LOSE BUT HE ALREADY KNOWS HE'LL MISS THE WAY THIS BOY SMILES. FIGURES IF HE'S GOING DOWN ANYWAY MIGHT AS WELL DIVE DEEP. WHO NEEDS LUNGS ANYWAY THE PRESSURE DOWN HERE CRUSHES THEM HIS HEART POUNDS AND PALPITATES ALREADY WHY NOT LET HIM INFECT ANOTHER ORGAN. LOVERBOY WANTS SO MUCH MORE THAN ANYTHING POSSIBLE SO MIGHT AS WELL WRITE TO THE NOT AND WAIT FOR GRAVITY WAIT TO MOVE ON. LOVERBOY HAS TO COME DOWN EVENTUALLY. UNTIL THEN HE'LL JUST KEEP WRITING TO THE BOY WHO ISN'T EVEN PAYING ATTENTION. LOVERBOY HAS TO FALL OUT OF LOVE AT SOME POINT. UNTIL THEN HE'LL JUST SWALLOW HIS OWN TONGUE RATHER THAN ASK FOR ANY ATTENTION AT ALL.
Am I always going to be speaking to the void? I know you're busy, I know I sleep like the other side of the world, I know I'm not as close to you as she is. But you hold so much of me in your hands; I have never stopped bearing my throat to you. Night after night--how long do you think it took to fall in love with you? I still shake, but less so around you, do you notice? I don't like weakness within myself, but I've let you see my broken, my scared, my fragile. All these fragments I hide away, kept like glass jars under beds: I've let you hold them without fearing you'd weaponize them. And now I reach because I thought I found safe, found secure, found the lowering of guard to rest, but where are you? Where are you? Where are you going? Please. I'm terrified of losing you.
i'm not the best at keeping my own
self safe but i would fight bone
and blood for you; if you trusted me
with anything, even the fragments
i would keep, would guard.
even your smallest smile:
i would treasure it all.
i am so tired empty alone always
looking for someone to take these
reaching palms and whisper
“it’s okay, i’m here” “you’re not alone”
“rest now, i’ll protect you”
to take these weapons of solitude
and give me their hands instead.
who is peace and why do they run
from me? who are they and why
can’t i know them? i only want
to sit with someone long enough
to acquaint myself with their eyes
until i could paint them with my own
closed, because maybe then i’d
have someone to remember when
thoughts ran cold and night ran quiet
and blood murmured in ears like
reminder of mortality. i only want
someone i never doubt, never wonder
if it’s pity or actual care. what’s truth,
what’s lie? i just want an honest love
who’s willing to wait out the walls.
to watch them crumble and then
walk me out of the rubble.
There's a war within me, like holy like a rebellion of everything of truth of knowledge. Am I soldier am I commander am I simply warzone. I cry like god of wasteland of decay, beg and plead like maybe there is divinity that will listen. I cough ash and soot, breathe smoke, crumble to dust because this place this forsaken and forgotten dead place is trying to smother me before I can escape before I can find wings and soar far far away. I cannot stay here anymore. I cannot stay here any longer.
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
Anya is LIVE right now
FREE
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
you're going to leave. or i am. or maybe everyone will, spinning and spilling out from where we started, all lost and apart and i will never see you again. will you forget me? will you forget me? will you? i am so terrified of being left alone/too close, dichotomy of fearing an intimacy i can't live without. i am going to leave someday. someday. you will never see me again. does that overturn your stomach how it inverts mine? do you grow restless at a future of distance not yet here? do you prepare for the loss? i am already building bunker around my body, my heart, trying (and failing so so badly) to ready for the landing, the rolling of ankles, the breaking of all supports. i am going to leave. there is nothing to be done. panic prophetic
Everything I touch unfrays like a wire, charger you didn't realize was falling apart until it sparked as you went to use it again. It all falls to pieces, fractured, split, jagged edges always threatening a bite, a snake in wait, the thought of fangs rather than the sound of its rattler. There is no warning. Only the floods and their gates, swinging open, wide, a mouth ready to swallow and all your tears lost in overwhelmed. See, it's never just one thing. It's that one, and this, and the thing you forgot over there, and-- and and and. You will never be rid of all the mistakes and mishaps and miseries you've made. Your own creation, devised by your own failings. Did you think you could escape your own bear trap, metal you prepared to feast on your flesh? This was all your own doing. My own. For them, I'd rather burn.
