Hollunation

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Incubus written by Ovri (HD Version). Warning: NSFW. Contains demons, seduction, lucid dreaming and plenty of very dirty language. This is very sexual. Do not listen to it if you are unprepared or in public.

he had so much sex his biographers straight up gave up trying to document all of his sexual partners. he was reported to fuck up to 3-9 times a day. He had a secret sex diary written in code. He had “official” and “unofficial” mistresses. One estimate was that he had ~200 sexual partners in two years. 

It was all just a show, anyway. They did it every year. They brought out a selection of criminals, and the Sorcerer who ruled us showed his power by bringing about their deaths by magic. Just to show, every year, what happened to anyone who crossed him.

There was a time, probably, when the people he executed really were rebels or assassins. In latter days he had to take what the dungeons offered. I was dragged up in chains between a pickpocket, sobbing in terror, and a man who’d killed another man in a brawl. There were few criminals of any note, by then. So instead of choosing the wickedest criminals, they chose based on appearance. The man who’d been in the brawl had a face like a clenched fist, and looked like a ruffian. The pickpocket, aging and with hands beginning to tremble, was a different kind of example. As was I.

“There aren’t many pretty ones, this year,” the man who chose me had said, examining me. “But this one will do. Not young, but not old, a woman, well-favoured enough for the gallows… what was her crime?”

The warder shrugged. “She tried to kill one of the sheriffs.”

The man looked down at me and I shrugged. “I hit him with a washing stick, because he tried to extort money from me, and he was a baby about it.” I refused to treat this as anything but pathetic, even after my sentencing. “I didn’t even break any bones.”

“Treason, then,” the man said, nodding. “Attacking the servants of the law. That will look well on the list. Send her.”

I had been debating ever since what to choose. Something quick? Something painless? I considered demanding that I suffer the attack I supposedly made on the sheriff, but then I realized the Sorcerer would only give me what the man had said I was going to do, and that was not a pleasant way to die. I had all but decided on something swift and relatively painless. Beheading with the sharpest of blades sounded good. It would be quick. 

Read this craigslist ad for a 1999 toyota corolla.

Ft. Deku, Bakugou, Sero, Kirishima

Warnings: Fluff fluff fluff fluff

This is very random but I had a dream about it sooooo… here you go :) I will probably be making a part 2

Izuku Midoriya

Izuku heaved a heavy sigh as he slipped the key to his apartment door into the lock. Every single muscle in his body seemed to ache and he could feel the exhaustion from a full day of hero work creeping into the back of his mind. He was later in getting home than usual today and despite the fact that nothing made him happier than pouring his heart into saving people, all he wanted at that moment was to curl up in bed with you beside him and sleep.

What he didn’t expect was for all the lights within the apartment to be on when he opened the door. It wasn’t like you to stay up waiting for him when he was home late - after all, you were a hero just like him and you had work of your own to get to in the morning. Izuku frowned slightly as he closed the door behind him and kicked off his shoes before heading deeper into the apartment. He half expected to find you caught up in some TV series in your shared bedroom but upon closer inspection, he found it empty and the bed undisturbed. Worry was just beginning to set in when he noticed a pile of blankets on the couch shift as he passed by the living room. For a moment he stood and watched, and then his shoulders relaxed when the material of the blanket fell down slightly, revealing the top of you head.

"Pokemon turned back toward you and nodded in understanding!"

"Pokemon is in a bit of a pinch. It looks like it might cry..."

"Pokemon gathered all its energy to break through its paralysis so you wouldn't worry!"

"Pokemon healed its burn with its sheer determination so you wouldn't worry!"

"Pokemon toughed it out so you wouldn't feel sad!"

"Pokemon is remembering the first time it met you..."

these hurt so much...

By the end I was wearing a white robe and broad straw hat, carrying a sword, peeing on the lawn, performing magic on the hilltops. I was deep into some wild conspiracy shit and doing a lot of writing, making a lot of mix tapes. I talked intensely with the tv and radio, and developed in-depth relationships with the characters on “Hill Street Blues.”

If I learned anything from the experience, it is this.