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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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got some stuff cooking up
mythos (1/?)
or akotsk characters as greek mythic figures
baelor | dunk
a/n: sorry if this has been done before
baelor as penelope
he waits. months bleed into years that leech the dark from his hair. his clothes lighten, from black and blood red to rich browns, creams, and clay reds for he refuses even the notion of funerary black. they say he is mad to wait. they say you are lost. but he knows you and they do not. baelor keeps the light in his eyes. he stokes it purposefully, daily with the memory of you. even as his heart cracks from the weight of hope that may never be fulfilled, he keeps the light in his eyes because he could not bear the thought of you returning after all this time just to find him hollow.
the following battles are of a type he is less accustomed to. he dodges the deluge of marriage proposals and the lords who push them. he forbids his blood even speak of marriage. at this point, he’d rather take up a chisel and hammer and carve the message above the gates to the Red Keep. the vows had flowed like honey from his mouth on your wedding night: ‘I am yours and you are mine from this day until my last day.’ the pair of you are homophrosyne so baelor knows come hell or high water, even if it’s only as a specter on the wall, you will return. the very least he can do is wait.
dunk as orpheus
everyone calls him stupid and it’s at this point, after you are gone, that dunk knows that he is. surely, his head has been rattled one too many times to be fully sane. surely, he’s one of those unfortunate few to have come into the world without even a drop of sense because after a high lord snatches you up for his own, dunk’s one thought is to bring you back. bring you home to him.
these noblemen, nigh gods themselves with how they saturate themselves in splendor and excess, do not know your value. even if he plucked the beating heart out of his chest, they could not comprehend it. but dunk is a man of honor. he cannot leave you to your fate. stealing you away would only mean death for the both of you. the sword will not help him.
dunk is a fool, so he relies on his word. he attempts in clumsy sentences and patched up verses from tawdry ballads to explain all that you are. a cool breeze in the summer. the first apple blossom of spring. when he succeeds against all odds and takes you home, he swears nothing will part you again. and when he fails to keep hold of you, dunk does as any knight would and sings songs of you until his dying day.
‘ – she hath my hearth in thrall. no life I own, nor liberty, for love is Lord of all’.
mythos (1/?)
or akotsk characters as greek mythic figures
baelor | dunk
a/n: sorry if this has been done before
baelor as penelope
he waits. months bleed into years that leech the dark from his hair. his clothes lighten, from black and blood red to rich browns, creams, and clay reds for he refuses even the notion of funerary black. they say he is mad to wait. they say you are lost. but he knows you and they do not. baelor keeps the light in his eyes. he stokes it purposefully, daily with the memory of you. even as his heart cracks from the weight of hope that may never be fulfilled, he keeps the light in his eyes because he could not bear the thought of you returning after all this time just to find him hollow.
the following battles are of a type he is less accustomed to. he dodges the deluge of marriage proposals and the lords who push them. he forbids his blood even speak of marriage. at this point, he’d rather take up a chisel and hammer and carve the message above the gates to the Red Keep. the vows had flowed like honey from his mouth on your wedding night: ‘I am yours and you are mine from this day until my last day.’ the pair of you are homophrosyne so baelor knows come hell or high water, even if it’s only as a specter on the wall, you will return. the very least he can do is wait.
dunk as orpheus
everyone calls him stupid and it’s at this point, after you are gone, that dunk knows that he is. surely, his head has been rattled one too many times to be fully sane. surely, he’s one of those unfortunate few to have come into the world without even a drop of sense because after a high lord snatches you up for his own, dunk’s one thought is to bring you back. bring you home to him.
these noblemen, nigh gods themselves with how they saturate themselves in splendor and excess, do not know your value. even if he plucked the beating heart out of his chest, they could not comprehend it. but dunk is a man of honor. he cannot leave you to your fate. stealing you away would only mean death for the both of you. the sword will not help him.
dunk is a fool, so he relies on his word. he attempts in clumsy sentences and patched up verses from tawdry ballads to explain all that you are. a cool breeze in the summer. the first apple blossom of spring. when he succeeds against all odds and takes you home, he swears nothing will part you again. and when he fails to keep hold of you, dunk does as any knight would and sings songs of you until his dying day.
‘ – she hath my hearth in thrall. no life I own, nor liberty, for love is Lord of all’.
jealousy (1/?)
cw: minors dni, 18+ under the cut
a/n: the insanity of this post even existing is beyond my comprehension
baelor | lyonel | maekar
baelor.
It comes from distance. He is sworn to the realm, first and foremost. Baelor is in possession of the most powerful position, the highest privilege in all of Westeros and still the gods saw fit to bless him with you as his wife. You, who understand the trappings and isolation of duty and do not begrudge him for it. You, who readily communicate and voice your misgivings and grievances instead of letting them fester. You, who match him in near every way.
Creeping loneliness fosters his jealousy toward all those who unduly monopolize your time: the court ladies who yak your ear off with petty squabbles, the councilmen who ramble in circles explaining what you already know, and all the little incompetencies that demand your attention. Baelor is all poise and propriety, but he starts getting short with people. And when you pull him aside to question him in your shared chambers about his poor mood, he finally has his moment.

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
jealousy (1/?)
cw: minors dni, 18+ under the cut
a/n: the insanity of this post even existing is beyond my comprehension
baelor | lyonel | maekar
baelor.
It comes from distance. He is sworn to the realm, first and foremost. Baelor is in possession of the most powerful position, the highest privilege in all of Westeros and still the gods saw fit to bless him with you as his wife. You, who understand the trappings and isolation of duty and do not begrudge him for it. You, who readily communicate and voice your misgivings and grievances instead of letting them fester. You, who match him in near every way.
Creeping loneliness fosters his jealousy toward all those who unduly monopolize your time: the court ladies who yak your ear off with petty squabbles, the councilmen who ramble in circles explaining what you already know, and all the little incompetencies that demand your attention. Baelor is all poise and propriety, but he starts getting short with people. And when you pull him aside to question him in your shared chambers about his poor mood, he finally has his moment.
This double side-eye SENDS MEEEEEEE😭😭😭😭😭😭
Wedding