#iwtv#interview with the vampire#the vampire armand#assad zaman
seen from Germany
seen from Japan
seen from Kenya
seen from Japan
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Chile
seen from Malaysia
seen from Türkiye
seen from United States
seen from France
seen from Brazil
seen from T1
seen from Kazakhstan
seen from Poland
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from United States
Cravings.
support the comic on patreon💖
(this is part 20)
all previous comics under the cut >
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
Runaways AU
Shane held on tight as Ilya broke in his arms.
"They're going to miss me," Ilya sobbed. Shane couldn't tell if Ilya found it sweet or tragic. Maybe both. "What if they worry?"
Shane ran a hand up and down Ilya's back, offering any comfort he could. It hurt to watch him like this, his husband was in so much pain. But however difficult the last few days had been, Shane knew it was so much worse for Ilya. Shane was worried, not scared—he did trust that Ilya was telling the truth when he said he wasn't going to hurt himself—but that didn't lessen the way Shane's heart clenched at every sob.
If he could carry all of Ilya's pain for him Shane would. If the only way to relieve Ilya of all this anguish was to carry five times that amount Shane would make the deal without hesitation. But he couldn't do that, there was no magic in this world. So instead he reached up to draw his fingers through Ilya's hair. In this world all he could do was listen and love.
"Shane, what if they think–" Ilya couldn't finish his sentence.
He didn't have to. Shane understood. No matter how irrational the fear was. (The kids would be told Irene had a fever. There would be no reason for them to worry.) But Shane also knew better than to try and argue Ilya down from this state. Besides, Shane had an idea.
"You could write the kids letters while you're away."
Awhile ago Galina had made Ilya journal. It had helped, but Ilya stopped when he'd gotten into the play-offs and hadn't picked it up again after—opting to just tell Shane about his day instead. (Galina didn't know Ilya was in a relationship, they figured she'd be okay with the compromise if she knew.) But talking wasn't an option for Ilya right now, his throat closing on him each time he began to explain. Maybe they could kill two birds with one stone: Get Ilya to write again, and settle his worries about the kids missing him too much.
Shane adjusted them so more of Ilya's weight leaned on his muscles. "You could write me letters too, the stuff that is too hard to say."
Ilya pulled back from where he rested on Shane's shoulder to look at him with the reverence of a lost zealot who'd just found salvation. "I like that."
Shane could have broken into a thousand pieces. He stayed strong and together for Ilya. "Anya needs more dog food, I'll pick up some stamps and stuff when I'm in town tomorrow." He cupped his husband's face in his hands. "Ilya, I love you."
Ilya's eyes slipped closed and Shane's palms grew warm and wet.
----------
Ilya's messenger bag, full of letters, fancy pens, and a set of beautiful stamps, was slung over Shane's shoulder when he hauled a bag of kibble into his arms. He readjusted the strap and rounded the corner to find Susie Herbs at the counter ringing up two bags of dog food of her own.
"Evenin' Bodi," She called as he walked into line.
"Susie." Shane paused and went for a smile. He hoped he succeeded.
Susie didn't meet his eyes, instead eyeing his luggage. "What's in the bag?"
"Dog food?"
Susie gave a single harsh laugh. "The other bag."
"Oh," Shane looked down to find his earlier jolting caused the leather flap to swing open and reveal his cargo.
"Irene is under the weather," Shane quickly repeated the watered down truth they were hoping to spread. "He wanted to write letters to the kids around the community to pass the time."
Susie's face scrunched up in a pitying smile. "Oh I hope he feels better soon. That's really sweet."
"Thank you. H–" Shane started to say more but Susie cut him off.
"What stamps did you buy?" she abruptly demanded.
"Uh-" Why she wanted to know Shane wasn't sure. He shuffled in his bag, bringing out the sleeve of stamps he'd long deliberated over before choosing. They had a brown bird on a branch singing over a mountain scape. They reminded Shane of Mountain View Trail, he hopes Ilya liked them as much as he did. "These were the prettiest ones."
Susie smiled, warm and confident. "They would be. Martha's daughter painted those."
Shane's eyes grew wide. "Really?" He looked down at the stamps again, finding no evidence of amateur work. "I wasn't aware Martha had a daughter?"
Susie, ever the story-teller, grinned at the opportunity to fill Shane in on more details of their little town. "You wouldn't, she's a big shot artist in New York now. Hasn't been back home in years."
"Oh,"
"She painted that for a school competition. Named the piece 'Mock-Up' cause its a mocking-bird and the mountains. She's always been the cleverest Longphisher." Susie paused and pointed at Shane's chest. "Don't tell Mickey I said that."
Shane laughed politely, and forced himself to remember that Mickey was the wife of Chris Lane the fire chief, and Albert and Martha Longphisher's daughter.
"—The kids will love them. You picked a good stamp," Susie was saying.
Shane nodded. "Thank you. That's good to hear."
Plastic and kibble crackled as Susie slung her puppy chow over her shoulder. "Well, I'm sure I've kept you too long, Bodi. Maggie and Doggie need their dinner."
Shane failed to hold back a small snort at the second name. "Doggie?"
"Oh yeah, that's just what I'm calling Maggie's last pup. Can't seem to hake him, but don't plan on keepin' him. I ain't giving him a real name."
"That would be a funny name…" Shane didn't fight his smile. "Sorry, I'll let you go."
Susie just smiled back as she took her leave. "Tell Irene get well soon for me."
"Will do." Shane dropped Anya's food on the counter. Part 19 -> Part 20 -> Part 21
You're too late, Spiderman! I've already rage baited your fat dog twenty times
Dog Hybrid Stone: Stobotnik AU Fic - Part 20
Summary: The enemy comes a-knocking and Robotnik has a choice to make
Warnings: talk of sexual acts, kidnapping
Part 1 Part 19 Part 21
Swallowed Whole by The Flame (Messmer the Impaler x Tarnished! Reader) 20 [END]
MASTERLIST
PREVIOUS
Summary: The end awaits, and Tarnished stares down at the abyss.
A/N: The final chapter... It's been long-awaited. I had been going back and forth on the ending for a long time; I knew I wanted to end it on a high note, whether people would like it or not is another thing. I knew Messmer and Tarnished needed that happier end to everything they've been through. I hope this story has been something you've enjoyed reading. It was certainly something different I've written, but I am happy for this project to be done.
Happy reading, folks! This one is long.
A03 link
Chapter 20
"We will have our victory."
It echoes in your mind like the arrival of hope. It is your chant you think of when you escape from that room, up towards the final staircase; a lone site of grace greets you.
You turn to Ansbach, just as you both stand outside the veil, and whatever awaits you feels as if you're staring back into nothingness. "This is it," you murmur, "this is the end." You feel nauseous, a feeling you want to ignore, but it is strong and makes your legs feel unstable, your head lightheaded.
"Not the end, Lady Tarnished," he countered, "but a new beginning. One to carve anew over these lands."
"What will you do once this is over?"
"Wherever I am needed, I shall go." He eyes you carefully, and you dare dread he will not bring up Messmer to you. "Perhaps... her lady tarnished will find herself at his Lordship's council?"
You try not to laugh aloud at the statement, but you feel uncomfortably sweaty beneath your helm. You feel grateful Ansbach cannot see your face, your shifting eyes. "I shall go wherever I need to."
I shall be ash beneath the Impaler's feet if he wishes.
You think of the firstborn son, of how you would even face him if you saw him again: would there be stoicism? Anger? Or would you fall into his arms, and he would throw you away?
You tell yourself it's nothing, but deep down, you are really beginning to miss the idea of being with him.
"Our chance, Lady Tarnished," Ansbach pulled you from the deep thoughts you were stuck in. There was hope in his wizened voice, "Our future awaits."
When you pass through the veil of the entrance, you're taken aback by what greets you: the Gate of Divinity is an impressive, ghastly sight. It is composed of thousands, if not millions, of corpses, fused into two massive, misshapen columns. The gate is grey, calcified as if it has been lost to time. From your readings, you're aware that it was used to elevate Empyreans into godhood. Empyreans like Miquella. Your guard is up the moment you step through; every hair on you is sticking up on high alert.
This is wrong, so wrong.
Through the middle of the mighty columns, a figure stands, blinding and colossal, its figure illuminated in a golden light. You wish to believe it's not who you think it is, and when you turn to Ansbach, he looks just as tense as you feel.
“My loyal blade. And champion of the festival." A voice called out into the opening, youthful, boyish. You recognise the voice and your stance changes. "Both your deeds will ever be praised in song. Now, the vow will be honoured, and my Lord Brother’s soul will return. So that he may be my consort.”
You feel it, the ground rumbles, rocks begin to float as you watch this new version of Radahn unsheathe his swords, the grating sound of grinding metal churns in your ears. The dust settles as Radahn stares you down, not with any recognition, but with a look for total annihilation.
You cannot think of anything to say before he lunges into an attack: spinning into a gravity-rush towards the two of you. You barely have a chance to dodge, debris flies out in front when he lands. You watch as Ansbach flies back, and you only have the chance to land a heavy slash to his leg.
This... feels impossible. Fighting this version of Radahn shows how ruthless he is. He gives out long slashing attacks, which you struggle to roll out of the way of, quickly followed by an ability you noticed Mohg could achieve: the Bloodflame Slash.
You try to keep up with him, rolling, slashing, trying to add buffs to yourself when the time is right. You are knocked backwards before Radahn follows with a foot stomp, keeping you knocked to the ground, then a one-handed overhead slash. You don't have much time to avoid it, dodging most of it before you feel the grating feeling of metal hit you in your chest armour. You think you're dead, but Ansbach fills your field of vision, shielding you as you have time to get up and quickly heal.
It all feels like a recipe for disaster, but you put yourself back into the fight, trying to deal with as much of an attack now, albeit slightly weaker.
You slash him hard enough to knock him to his knees, similar to how Messmer was knocked to his when he was at his weakest. But as you're about to charge another attack, you feel it.
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
How about we all just calm down and not start a fight
Part 20
<Previous = Start = Next >
What the Emperor Wants
Part Twenty
Summary: Geta & his reader are finally wed, Geta remembers when he first saw reader, when he first wanted her.
Notes/Warnings: 18+, p in v consensual sex, squint dommy/darker Geta, squint breeding kink, mentions of voilence, dated views of marriage..man/women dynamics, flashbacks in italics. I give a backstory to the little girls (from the deleted scene…included in the collage) seen tossing flower petals. Mixed in some traditional Ancient Roman practices with some bits that are the “writer” in me. Enjoy!
“Ubi tu Gaius, ego Gaia.” : “Where you are Gaius, I am Gaia." traditional Roman wedding vow, stola & palla: parts of women’s clothing in Rome.
❤️s, reblogs, comments, feedback are all welcome. 💐 (sorry for the delay on this chapter) Thank you for reading! ❤️
You bathed once again, fresh braids with new ribbons twined your hair. You ignored the sliver of red that remained Tertia’s dagger near your heart. It was vivid and red but had not drawn blood.
You were grateful no damage by the grace of the gods had been done to your wedding clothes. Through the pain during the violent attack you saw the stars. You were still unsteady by the attack. You wondered how long she had been planning it. The thought made you ill.
Stirring in Geta’s arms was truly a gift. A soft look had come from him. His eyes like warm like a summer’s soil despite his sharp appearance; the finely crafted ebony lines that traced his eyes or powder that dusted his smooth face. His softness, made your affections for him to grow.
*******
A/N: If you’re still sticking with this story, you don’t want to miss this one.
***
Just Know My Heart is Breaking Too, Part 20
Kensi’s question hangs between them, carrying both the promise of potential happiness and terrible heartbreak.
“What if we still can’t make it work? I don’t know if I could handle that again,” Deeks says.
“Are you handling it now?” Kensi asks bluntly. “Cause I know I’m not. What could be worse than denying ourselves another chance when neither of us have been able to move on?”
“No, I’m not.” He sighs, closing his eyes. The admission doesn’t magically erase his fears, but it’s the final push he needs to push past that fear. “Yes, Kensi. I want to be with you more than anything. Even though it’s insane and I’m terrified and I might have turned into a hermit in the last two years.
“Then we can be terrified together.” Kensi leans towards him and this time, he meets her halfway, grasping the back of her head almost desperately as they kiss.
A compere and utter elation Deeks hasn’t felt in more than two years fills him. He leans into the kiss, savoring every brush of Kensi’s lips on his. Kensi just holds him tighter, her hands grasping in his shirt, in his hair, as if he might disappear if she lets go.
When they break apart, Deeks feels giddy and lightheaded. Kensi looks similarly delighted, her eyes bright and happy and a little relieved. It reminds him so much of the first time they’d taken this leap, that he can’t help but feel hopeful.
Kensi curls up against his chest, one of her hands still tangled in his shirt. “Is this ok?” she inquires softly.
“It’s perfect.” And definitely surreal.
“I meant what I said about leaving. I’m hoping I can slowly ease away from fieldwork into an administration or maybe a liaison position,” Kensi says a few minutes later , then shrugs. “Maybe something completely different. Do you need any paralegals in your office?” She turns her chin up, a hint of melancholy underneath her smile.
Maybe for the first time, it strikes Deeks that Kensi is truly at a crossroads that goes beyond their relationship. Oddly enough, he finds it reassuring. It takes some of the pressure off of both of them if her happiness isn’t solely reliant on whether or not they make it.
“Yeah, but you’d hate being a paralegal,” he predicts. He can’t imagine her in any job that primarily relies on sitting in an office typing up documents or researching the intricacies of law.
“You’re probably right. Maybe I’ll just end up taking time off to figure out what I’m good at besides shooting things and making threats,” she jokes. “What about you? Are you happy where you’re at?”
“Some days.” Deeks hedges. “It’s not exactly what I dreamed about when I thought I was going to change the world single-handedly, but it’s…it’s enough for now.”
“Maybe we both need to figure out what else we need to be happy,” Kensi says. She’s quiet for a few seconds, then her expression turns less melancholy and definitely playful. “I do have one request.”
“Anything,” he promises.
“Take me out on a real date.”
