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Carmilla & Laura 🩸

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Made a chart for sorting fantheories

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Love your writing! Can I request a hero that likes being controlled by the villain because they get relief from their anxiety/stressful life but they are denying it because they don’t want to admit to being overwhelmed?

"Oh god, you're back."

The villain smirked at that particular greeting and inclined their head in acknowledgement. "Long time no see, hero mine."

Anticipation had the hero's heart drumming double time. They shifted their weight, hold tightening on the battered strap of their rucksack. The street was empty, all curtains conspicuously drawn, but there was nothing actually blocking any exits. They could run. They weren't far from home. They might even make it.

"It's okay," the villain said, tucking their hands into their pockets. "You can try, I won't be offended. I know you prefer pretending that you don't like this. That you don't crave this."

"I don't."

"No?" The villain's tone was soft, but their eyes gleamed in the glow of the lampposts. Their gaze was somewhere between gently mocking and not so gently fond. "You're lucky you lie so pretty. It means I'll let you off with a warning. Just the one, because I've heard you've had a rough week."

The hero swallowed.

The week had been exhausting. Atlas would have buckled beneath the weight of the last week too. Anyone would. Wouldn't they? Maybe that was why, beneath the panic of seeing the villain again, there was a much more terrifying chasm of relief. Dizzy, desperate relief. The kind of longing that left a person brained by it. Dumb.

"You heard about that?" the hero asked, in a small voice, even if it was entirely not the point.

"I'm here, aren't I?"

The hero shuddered, to hear the villain say it so bluntly. Maybe if they hadn't, the hero could pretend - what? That somewhere along the way monstrosity and miracle had blurred together like wet watercolours?

"You could walk away," the hero said.

"I could," the villain agreed, placidly. They didn't move though.

"Would you if I asked you to?"

The villain's head tilted, considering the hero at that.

"Mm, I don't think so," they decided eventually. "Then you'd feel like you had to ask. It goes better when you don't have any choice in this matter, doesn't it?"

"You can't just - you can't say that."

"No?" the villain's lip curled up again. They closed the gap between them, casually confident. "You asked."

"Well, yes - but." The hero didn't have a good way to finish the sentence. Mainly because they should have been horrified. They were horrified! It was only..."You're not supposed to say it." The crack in their voice felt far too much like confession. "It's not right."

"Yeah. I'd say you should stop feeling so guilty about liking it so much, but honestly it's entirely too delicious watching you squirm."

The hero made a choked, incoherent sound in their throat. They took a step back, not remotely surprised when the villain's hand snaked eel-fast around their back.

"Ah, ah," the villain said. "You already had your chance to run. Go easy."

The hero felt the very moment that something switched in the villain's voice, their powers humming a siren song in the hero's bones. They felt their body turn to putty as they blinked at the villain, wide-eyed. Their hands settled comfortably on the villain's chest, not pushing back.

It wasn't...it wasn't exactly that their brain switched off, only that everything in them suddenly refused to fully recognise the danger. And there was danger, they knew that, but...

But for the first time since they'd last seen the villain, the knot in their chest loosened. They didn't feel one small straw or loud noise or well-meaning question away from bursting pitifully into tears.

"Good," the villain murmured. "Just like that. There you are. Deep breaths."

Up close, the villain took a moment to study them properly. The hero let them look. Minutes ago, they might have tried to hide, ashamed by the blatant dark circles under their eyes, by everything that the villain would see, but in that second...

The villain's lips thinned a fraction. "I've been away on business for too long, haven't I? Sorry about that."

"How was business?"

The villain didn't bother answering that question, more concerned with grazing their thumb along the swell of the hero's lip where they'd bitten it raw. Their eyes darkened further.

"You look annoyed," the hero said.

"You could have called me, you know."

"Why would I do that?"

"Why would you-" For a second, it seemed like the villain might say something. Then, they simply sighed, and shook their head, muttering something under their breath. They pivoted, so they were at the hero's side instead, snagging the hero's heavy bag onto their own shoulders.

"Walk." The command hummed through the villain's voice again. "I think we've both had enough of your idiot brain for today. You're done for the week."

Every time the villain let them go, it was harder to force themselves to leave.

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The Kickstarter campaign is LIVE HERE!

If you're interested in a sapphic, grimdark fantasy comic series featuring romance and horror, and older lady love interests, please consider checking our page out and pledging! If you are unable to, you can still help by spreading the word and reblogging!

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fuck the tits or ass debate, i find eyebags sooo attractive. your exhausted, sleep-deprived, mildly haunted aura has bewitched me body and soul

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Dog Boyfriend

[Webtoon / Patreon]

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Dog Boyfriend

[Webtoon / Patreon]

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when i see radfems clutching their pearls about the term "milf" im baffled. people are going to find women sexy and want to have sex with them. recreating the idea of "the sexiest woman" to be 38 instead of 18 is a good thing. i personally hate the fetishization of virginity, and milfdom gets around that. we should be clowning as hard as possible on 40yo men who are no longer attracted to their wives after they gave birth 3 times. long live milfmania

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Nights in the astral prism

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@riseofthecommonwoodpile I have a point to prove here and it's that I'm right by popular vote

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Anna Speshilova on Instagram

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A certain fisherman [...] went to the same place again to fish, and he put a row of hooks on his heels in case he met the Púca again; he attached them like a horseman's spurs. When evening drew near, he made a halter of the fishing-line for the Púca. The Púca met him the second time. He himself caught the Púca, put the fishing-line over his head like a halter, and started to ride him. He drove him wherever he wanted to go, and he kept putting his heels with the hooks like spurs to the Púca's sides, so that the Púca was shedding blood from the pricks of the hooks.

Excerpt from "The Púca: A Multi-Functional Irish Supernatural Entity" by Deasún Breatnach

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Nataša Ilinčić on Instagram

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absolute weapon of a woman