#rage against the moons

[jadarnr]

TRINITY BLOOD

RAGE AGAINST THE MOONS

(Sunao Yoshida)

Vol.1 From the Empire

FLIGHT NIGHT - Prologo

Traduzione italiana di jadarnr dai volumi inglesi editi da Tokyopop.

Sentitevi liberi di condividere, ma fatelo per piacere mantenendo i credits e il link al post originale 🙏

Grazie a @trinitybloodbr per il suo prezioso contributo alla revisione sul testo originale giapponese ✨

La luce della luna brillava attraverso le meravigliose vetrate colorate, facendo sembrare la tempestosa notte invernale ancora più scura.

“Amen! Questo pasto che ho preparato è il mio nutrimento. In questa Santa Notte io dico grazie”. La voce del vecchio, prostrato in segno di reverenza, risuonò dolcemente all’interno della cappella. Sembrava quasi piena di compassione.

Ma gli occhi della suora - le cui braccia e gambe erano legate all’altare e la cui bocca era stata imbavagliata - erano spalancati per la paura.

Forse non sarebbe stata tanto spaventata se si fosse trovata davanti un semplice assassino. Dopotutto, un assassino l’avrebbe solamente uccisa. Un assassino almeno sarebbe stato umano.

“Grazie per la tua pazienza Suor Angelina. Ora è il momento della Sacra Comunione.”

La suora sussultò.

Quando il vecchio si voltò, la luce della luna si riflettè sulla lama argentata stretta nella sua mano rugosa. Aveva usato quella lama innumerevoli volte per tagliare le ostie da dare ai devoti, quando ancora era un mortale. Era una lama sacra. Ma ora essa aveva assunto un sinistro colore marrone ed emanava uno sgradevole odore di ruggine.

“Mangiate questo pane, poiché esso é il mio corpo”

Nel silenzio risuonò il suono della veste della giovane suora che veniva strappata. I seni ancora poco sviluppati e una semplice biancheria intima rimasero esposti.

“Bevete questo vino, poichè esso è il mio sangue… Ah, Angelina! Voi diventerete una parte di me. Dentro di me vivremo insieme in una notte eterna”.

Dalle labbra scolpite in un sorriso malvagio, apparvero zanne troppo lunghe per essere semplici denti. Incapace di tenere a freno la sua sete di sangue, il vecchio puntò la lama sacra contro il petto candido di Angelina, facendo agitare il suo cuore con un unico respiro—

Dall’oscurità si udì un sussurro. “Ita missa est. La messa é finita, Padre Scott”

“Cosa?!”

A lato di un crocefisso congelato che emetteva un bagliore bluastro stava una figura avvolta nell’ombra. Il suo volto, rivolto verso il basso, era nascosto nell’oscurità e non era possibile vederlo, ma era chiaro che si trattava di un uomo piuttosto alto.

“Reverendo Alxander Scott, ex Vescovo di Londinium… nel nome del Padre, del Figlio e dello Spirito Santo la dichiaro in arresto con l’accusa di sette omicidi e furto di sangue.”

“Ma chi saresti tu in nome di Dio?!”

“Mi scusi, non mi sono presentato a dovere. Vengo da Roma—“

Fu un errore accordare al vampiro una qualche cortesia. Istantaneamente, il coltello attraversó la distanza tra i due con una velocità al limite dell’impossibile. La mira era perfetta, e la lama andò a conficcarsi esattamente nel petto dello sconosciuto.

“Ah! Non so chi tu sia ma non ti permetterò di interferire con questo sacro rito!”

Il vecchio vampiro, vestito con l’abito sacerdotale, rise sarcastico con le zanne che scintillavano nell’oscurità, proprio davanti all’altare da dove aveva prestato servizio come Vescovo fino al mese prima.

“A causa della tua ignoranza sarai punito con la morte…”

“Non le sembra terribilmente maleducato interrompere una conversazione in questo modo?”

“Ma cos…” Padre Scott non poteva credere ai suoi occhi. Il coltello si era conficcato a fondo nel cuore dell’uomo nell’ombra, eppure lui rimaneva in piedi come se niente fosse.

“Ho ascoltato uno dei suoi sermoni una volta… Predicava che gli esseri umani fossero le uniche creature capaci di credere in loro stesse. Avrei voluto poterle mostrare compassione, ma…”

“Im…impossibile!” Il vecchio prete, che aveva barattato la sua morale e la luce del sole con la forza e il potere datogli dal male immortale, ora indietreggiò, in preda al panico. “Sei un vampiro anche tu?”

“No. Io sono…”

Questa volta la voce fu interrotta dal suono del metallo in frantumi. La lama sacra che era rimasta conficcata nel petto dell’uomo, emise uno strano suono ed si andò ad affondare tra le vesti dell’ex Vescovo.

Il vampiro gemette. “Ho sentito parlare della tua specie, quando ancora ero umano. Si dice che a Roma, nel quartier generale del Vaticano, ci sia una setta di preti che custodiscono un mostro. E quando il Vaticano ha problemi che vanno oltre le capacità umane, mandano lui a risolvere la situazione. Sei tu quel mostro?”

“AX—per la precisione. Sta per Arcanum Cella ex Dono Dei. Sono del Dipartimento Segreto della Segreteria di Stato Vaticana. Vede, al mio capo non piacciono gli scandali. Non le farebbe per nulla piacere che si spargesse la voce che un prete si sia ‘trasformato’”.

Dal nulla l’uomo avvolto nell’ombra sollevò in aria una enorme falce dalla doppia lama.

Quando Padre Scott vide la falce urlò di terrore. “Maledetto! Sei il cane da guardia di Caterina, il suo boia ufficiale!”

Il suo urlo fu inghiottito da una folata di vento invernale.

[trinitybloodbr]

FROM THE EMPIRE - フロム・ジ・エンパイア – DO IMPÉRIO

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⚠️ ESSA OBRA EM HIPÓTESE ALGUMA É DE MINHA AUTORIA. TRADUÇÃO REALIZADA DE FÃ PARA FÃS. NÃO REPUBLIQUE OU POSTE EM OUTRAS PLATAFORMAS SEM AUTORIZAÇÃO. SE CASO POSSÍVEL, DÊ SUPORTE AOS AUTORES E ARTISTAS COMPRANDO AS OBRAS ORIGINAIS. ⚠️

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FROM THE EMPIRE

フロム・ジ・エンパイア

DO IMPÉRIO

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PRÓLOGO

-- Porque toda a terra será destruída.

A água se levantará por sobre toda a terra,

 e tudo o que está sobre ela será destruído e desaparecerá.

(Versão etíope do Livro de Enoque 10:2)

Um grupo de mil máscaras, com tochas nas mãos, avançava em marcha.

A praça à beira-mar, que abriga a Basílica e o Palácio do Governador, brilhava como se fosse meio-dia. Por outro lado, as duas luas no céu, pareciam completamente ofuscadas por causa dos fogos de artifício que subiam por todos os lugares.

“...Esses malditos terrans bárbaros!”

Astha cuspiu asperamente. A brisa marítima vinda da laguna levava a agitação da praça até o beco mal iluminado em que ela se encontrava.

 Através dos documentos, ela pensava ter compreendido a visão geral do chamado ‘Carnaval de Veneza', mas a coisa real era ainda mais ridícula do que se imaginava. O senso de sensibilidade dos nervos desses Terrans, que realizavam tal farra descontrolada ao longo de dez dias e noites, estava além da compreensão dela.

"De todas as coisas, encontrar-se em um lugar como este... e além disso, até quando vai me fazer esperar?!" – ela se pronunciou em um tom de voz resignado.

Diferente de sua terra natal, Tsala, onde o pôr do sol marca o início do dia. Aqui um dia começa e termina à meia-noite. Acima, o sino da enorme torre do relógio estava anunciando a chegada de um novo dia.　

No entanto, não havia nenhum sinal de que a pessoa com quem deveria se encontrar aparecesse.

Impaciente, Astha levantou a gola do casaco de couro e tirou os óculos de sol de seu rosto que possuía traços bastantes alinhados.

Talvez, deva continuar perseguindo "ele" sozinho? – Astha pensou consigo mesma.

Disseram que a pessoa esperada era o mais habilidoso daquele grupo. 'Agente Executor' ou algo assim? Talvez parecesse que fosse dessa forma, mas no final das contas seria somente mais um estúpido e fraco Terran. Uma espécie de vida curta. Astha sozinha era muito mais ágil e conhecia “ele” melhor do que ninguém. Nesse caso...

"Não, não posso, não posso." – Astha balançou a cabeça, afastando a doce tentação.

Dentre aqueles fanáticos, finalmente apareceu uma pessoa um pouco mais razoável. Se voltasse agora, poderia irritá-los.

"De qualquer forma, vamos “pegá-lo” rapidamente e se despedir dessa maluca montanha de primatas... hein?" – Astha aguçou os ouvidos ao ouvir vozes vinda de um canal mal iluminado próximo.

Aparentemente, duas ‘fêmeas’ jovens e alguns ‘machos’ que parecem ser gondoleiros estavam envolvidos em algum tipo de problema. Pelo que ela analisou das gírias que os ‘machos’ estavam usando com frequência, parece que eles estavam forçando as jovens a compensar a diferença da tarifa através de relações sexuais.

Não importava onde os Terrans se encontrassem ou acasalassem. Mas seria um problema se fizessem isso aqui por perto. Deveria ordenar que façam isso em outro lugar... Astha estava considerando seriamente quanto a isso.

"Er... desculpe interromper enquanto estão ocupados, mas..." – Uma voz descontraída veio do fundo do beco – Um momento, por favor? Bem, a Praça de São Marcos é por este caminho, não é?"

Era um jovem alto.

Sob o cabelo prateado desgrenhado, os costumeiros óculos redondos, como o fundo de uma garrafa de leite, refletiam o luar de fevereiro. E ele estava vestido com uma batina sacerdotal preta de aparência simples e pobre com uma capa desgastada. A típica aparência de um padre itinerante.

"Bem, Veneza é realmente uma cidade que parece um labirinto, não é? Então, vocês também estão aqui para o festival? É ótimo, não? O carnaval. Bem, na verdade, eu também..."

"Como pode ver, estamos ocupados agora, padre."

Um homem enorme e barbudo avançou lentamente de entre os gondoleiros, enquanto brincava com um remo grosso.

　

“Se estiver a caminho, por que  não pergunta em outro lugar?”

"Ah, mas..." – o padre travou.

“Padre, por favor nos ajude!”

As garotas correram em sua direção e o padre recuou, como se estivesse sendo intimidado. Elas acabaram por se esconderem em suas costas desprotegidas suplicando com os olhos marejados.

"Por favor, nos ajude! Estas pessoas estão nos forçando..."

"Sem essa! A culpa é de vocês por não pagarem!" – gritou um dos gondoleiros.

“Eeeeh..” – o padre recuou ainda mais.

Pelo comportamento assustado das garotas, ele evidentemente percebeu que havia se perdido em um cenário de guerra. O padre, com seus olhos azuis, piscava repetidamente, enquanto dizia:

"Bem, conflitos não são bons. O Senhor disse: 'Não te enfureças'... Uaaah!?"

O padre recuou para evitar o golpe sinistro, arqueando-se. Parecendo uma criatura que falhou na evolução. Ele cambaleou para trás desajeitadamente.　

"Que susto! O...o que foi isso de repente!?"

"Cale a boca! Desapareça de uma vez, padre de merda! Quem disse que quero ouvir seu sermão enganoso!?" – o gondoleiro que o atacou antes gritou.

"En-enganoso? Oh! Senhor, tende piedade da incredulidade dos filhos dos homens... Ce-certo! Senhoritas, fujam agora mesmo... eh?" – o padre comandou, mas logo sentiu que havia algo faltando.

Antes que ele percebesse, as garotas já haviam desaparecido ── seus vestidos coloridos esvoaçaram uma última vez de relance enquanto corriam em direção a praça.

"Ha, haha... não! Está tudo bem! Se eu puder proteger a pureza das donzelas com meu sacrifício. Não é um preço pequeno a se pagar? Não me importo nem um pouco. Sim, não me importo. Haha... eh, hein?”

Alguém cutucou as costas do padre, que estava dando uma risada seca e solitária. Ao se virar, ele viu inúmeros olhares ameaçadores dos gondoleiros encarando a sua cara de idiota.

"Bem... pessoal. Então, vamos nos acalmar. Aah! O Senhor disse: 'Suportem uns aos outros. Perdoem as ofensas um dos outros...'"

"...Matem-no." – os gondoleiros gritaram.

Ao som do vento, gritos de raiva e de dor se misturaram.

"Se... se matarem um padre, serão amaldiçoados, sabiam? Vamos, acalmem-se, respirem fundo juntos... Alguém, me ajude!" – o padre levantava as mãos desorganizadamente enquanto recuava o quanto podia.

(…Sem chance, esse cara...)

Astha soltou um suspiro e levantou-se.

Deixa-lo sozinho seria até aceitável, mas vê-lo cair morto bem na frente dos seus olhos seria desconfortável – além disso, Astha estava começando a ficar irritada com a ausência dessa chamada 'pessoa habilidosa' que estava demorando a aparecer.

“......”

Ela começou a correr silenciosamente e deu um leve salto. Com uma força nas pernas dezenas de vezes maior do que a dos Terrans, ela chutou as paredes à esquerda e à direita para ganhar altura e pousou graciosamente diante dos olhos dos bandidos.

“...!?”

Quando um dos homens barbudos, que estava entre os gondoleiros, percebeu a sombra projetada sobre sí, já havia levado um golpe de reverso do punho no topo da cabeça, que fez seu rosto se prostrar no chão. Embora o golpe tivesse sido suficientemente moderado, poderia ter causado uma rachadura em seu crânio.

“....Eh?”

E então nesse momento, os homens restantes também ficaram todos estáticos, uniformemente, sem se mover.

A razão era porque bem na frente dos olhos deles, iluminada pela suave luz da lua, estava uma mulher incrivelmente bela.

Ela era uma mulher muito alta. Envolvida em um casaco preto que ia até os tornozelos. Sua alta estatura devia ultrapassar facilmente o um metro e oitenta. Seus cabelos era branco ─ exceto por uma mecha na testa, da cor do sangue. Todo o restante estava descolorido até o final em um tom de marfim. No entanto, a beleza sob seus brilhantes olhos cor de âmbar ainda parecia jovem, como se tivesse acabado de sair da adolescência.

“Ah... quem seria você?"

"... Se afaste."

A bela mulher ─ Astha empurrou levemente o padre e virou-se para encarar os bandidos. Quando o grito do padre que caiu no canal e os respingos de água subiram, ela já estava chutando o pavimento de pedra e dando um grande salto...

Alguns segundos depois ─ na rua, cerca de dez homens com os queixos e clavículas quebrados estavam inconscientes.　

"...Ha! Seus malditos terrans!" – ela murmurou.

Sentindo uma leve sede ao ver o líquido vermelho escorrendo pelo pavimento de pedra, Astha fungou intencionalmente. Ela se surpreendeu ao ver um grupo de pessoas atacando seus semelhantes mais fracos. – O fato de suas aparências serem semelhantes as eles, torna seus caráteres malignos ainda mais perceptíveis. - E ainda insultam a ela e os outros Methuselahs, os chamando de 'vampiros', realmente eles não possuem a noção de seu devido lugar...

"Ah, com licença..."

De repente, Astha voltou a si ao ouvir uma voz extremamente lamentável vinda da sarjeta.

"Ei, se você não se importar, poderia me puxar? Na verdade, não consigo alcançar..."

“... ...”

Pensando bem, tem esse cara aqui.

Ela já estava cansada de interagir com esses Terrans. Mas deixá-lo assim a correr o risco de um ataque cardíaco seria um problema. Astha estendeu a mão casualmente.

"Aí está! Pegue."

"Ah, muito obrigado... A propósito, você não é do 'Império'? Não seria a Inspetora Chefe do Novo Império Humano, Tsala Methsaluth, Marquesa de Kyiv, Viscondessa de Odessa, Lorde Astharoshe Aslan?"

“O q....!?”

O rosto de Astha ficou rígido como se tivesse sido atingido por um raio.

Deste lado, somente 'eles' deveriam saber sobre ela. Como este homem sabia disso!?

(Espere! Não, não pode ser, de jeito nenhum...)

Num instante, um pressentimento sinistro passou pela parte de trás do córtex cerebral, fazendo a jovem nobre boyar do Império estremecer.　

"Eles" — A Duquesa de Milão, Caterina Sforza, e a Seção de Operações Especiais – Ax — do Ministério de Estado do Vaticano prometeram enviar seu melhor agente nesta operação conjunta. Não importa o quão estúpidos e loucos os Terrans fossem, mas justamente isto...

O padre olhou para o rosto de Astha, que estava paralisado pelo espanto ─ e para seu horror ─ sorriu suavemente.

"Ah, então é você mesmo? Que bom. Pensei que já tivesse ido embora. Eu sou Abel ── Abel Nightroad. Fui encarregado pela Duquesa de Milão para apoiar suas atividades de investigação em Veneza. Prazer em conhecê-la ♥"

……Será que seria possível soltar esta mão e voltar para o seu país?

Astha pensou nisso seriamente preocupada.

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Créditos da tradução:

Lutie (◕‿◕✿) ,

[puppymask]

Doomguy is NOT a bootlicker we know this. But I think ppls severely overestimate how much he gives a shit ABOUT the military u know!!! He doesn't give a fuck about protocol or any imperialist mentality attempts at brainwashing. Anyways I just believe the only thing the marines gave him was access to weapons, PTSD, and an attraction to men.

[gnratr0529]

Looking For Potential Musical Collaborators.

hey, so I love music, I’m a 16 year old in Illinois, and I wanna make music so bad, not only to put out art and my feelings into the world, but also to help others with shit they’re going through, and hey, maybe I could make some money doing what I love. But I truly don’t expect to be a big rockstar or whatever, I just wanna make music. I’ve been singing under various teachers for 7 years. I’ve been self teaching myself guitar for 8 years. I’ve been self teaching myself bass for 3 years. And picked up the drums about 6 months ago. And I have a pretty good understanding of music theory. I believe that the learning truly never ends when it comes to music. I first started to just give myself something to do as video games became boring and I was gifted a guitar because my uncle found one in a pawn shop and it was cheap and I had shown interest in music ever since I was a small dude. All music influences me in some way or another. Whether it be the heaviness of metal, the structure of blues, the twangy guitars of country, the influence of classical guitar soloing, the beautifulness of symphonic genres, the excitement of breakcore, the flow of rap, the catchiness of pop, and so on and so on. I truly just love to learn and incorporate styles into my musical style. Some bands/artists I’m influenced by (not in any particular order) are: Queens of the Stone Age, Primus, The Misfits, Stevie Ray Vaughn, Jimi Hendrix, Dredg, TOOL, MF DOOM, Run The Jewels, Sleep, Kyuss, Fu Manchu, Mondo Generator, Johnny Cash, Victor Wooten, Led Zeppelin, Black Sabbath, Pink Floyd, Slayer, Rage Against The Machine, My Chemical Romance, System Of A Down, Ween, The Offspring, Dinosaur Jr, Radar Men From The Moon, Cannibal Corpse, Këkht Aräkh, Acid Bath, Alice In Chains, and so much more. My song writing is fueled and inspired by: Pop Culture (Movies, Video games, Comic Books, nerdy stuff basically), Horror, Psychedelia, shedding light on problems that most people dont have the misfortune of experiencing, shedding light on political corruption and exploitation, an outlet for my feelings, and hoping to inspire others like others have inspired me. I do not have the Tumblr app so sorry if it takes awhile for me to get back to you. But I would love to hear from some people, whether it be interest in collaboration, advice, or just to talk about music in general. Whatever it is I look forward to meeting some new people.

[goodnightmoonvale]

shoutout to @bplotd (who Tumblr won't let me tag for some reason) who sent this ask to me a while ago. I'm copy pasting it here, because I want to keep it in my inbox to look at forever. But I'm feeling a lot of rage and despair today about how I'm ever going to make a difference in the world, and this helped me a lot before, so I'm posting it again so other people can see it too:

I know there is an underpinning narrative in the current zeitgeist to move people away from the paralysis of the terminally online "gotta do everything all the time" anxiety by encouraging folks to exert effort in a single direction consistently. And I think that attitude is largely useful and helpful. But here is something i have learned from 10 years in international development: this isn't the only way to effect change. It may not even be the most effective way. So many successful projects I have seen, and long term positive changes, are yes due to the work of dedicated individuals or groups, but they are often equally due to one single, well-placed "yes". One lucky break. One teacher who says "sure you can use my curriculum notes" or one administrator who says "sure, you can turn in your grant late" or one community member who speaks up with a good idea or a very timely complaint or a young person who babysits for a key night so a mom can go to a meeting or --- Listen, what I'm saying is that random acts of kindness can and do make a difference, in many cases a HUGE one. They're sometimes the lucky break on which an entire project or opportunity hinges. I'm sure you've heard that phrase about "planting a garden you will never see". It can be so hard, because this random kindness or justice may never, ever connect their little good deed with the actual good it does in the world. I can't help you know exactly what your own kindness has wrought in the future - that is a gift that so few of us ever are given. But if you contribution is consistently /doing a good or kind of helpful thing/ when presented with the opportunity, you are doing enough, more than enough. Consistent effort isn't just volunteering or doing a job or working on something tangible. Sometimes consistent effort means being the person who makes little daily choices to extend grace to others. And friend, that isnt just "good enough", that is /salvation/. The people who need it will find you.

[god-must-be-doing-cocaine]

Barbie didn’t make me hate men but the Woodstock 99 documentary definitely reignited it lmao

[dramarants]

I've said this before but as much as I was screaming at my screen, this is an opportunity for ttj to raise roots somewhere that not only includes the love of his life but also relationships without ridonkulous power imbalances among a supportive community and a new way of life outside the expectations set upon him since birth. who knows, maybe he'll choose to embrace his devil god fate lord knows the tension would not only be palpable but sexy af or maybe he'll become the supreme ultimate botanical sword master but he finally gets to be an active agent of his own life, choosing people, values, and goals for his own future, and hopefully, his journey (and lss's own growth returning + learning her identity) will reunite them knowing they're stronger, happier, and simply uplift each other when together. ttj's enduring love surmounted death and five centuries of agony to bring him to her place in the immortal realm, now it's up to them to figure themselves out and truly make it their home.

[billymayslesbian]

Before Lionblaze could argue, another shape burst through the billowing smoke to stand beside Squirrelflight. His eyes glared; his gray fur was matted together and stuck with bits of burnt leaf and twig. Confused by the smoke and flames, Hollyleaf almost thought she was seeing one of her warrior ancestors, until she recognized Ashfur.

Squirrelflight dropped the branch. “Help me push it into the fire!” she yowled.

Grabbing the branch in strong jaws, Ashfur thrust it past the wall of flame and into the ever-narrowing patch of ground where Hollyleaf and her brothers huddled. But Hollyleaf didn’t feel any sense of relief. There was a look in Ashfur’s eyes that she didn’t understand: the look of a cat who had just spotted an unexpected juicy bit of prey.

The branch made a bridge through the flames, but Ashfur stood at the other end of it, blocking the way to safety. Lionblaze nudged Jayfeather to his paws; Hollyleaf took a step toward the branch, then paused. She felt a cold weight in herbelly when she looked into Ashfur’s glittering blue eyes.

“Ashfur, get out of the way.” Squirrelflight’s voice was puzzled. “Let them get out!”

“Brambleclaw isn’t here to look after them now,” Ashfur sneered.

Hollyleaf felt her fur beginning to rise. What did Ashfur mean?

Lionblaze’s golden pelt was bristling, too. “What have you done with my father?” he howled through the flame.

Ashfur looked at him pityingly; his eyes were twin points of fire amid the burning forest. “Why would I waste my time with Brambleclaw?”

The main branch was too solid to catch fire easily, but the leaves on it had shriveled and the twigs were beginning to smoke. Hollyleaf realized that they didn’t have much time before their bridge to safety would be ablaze.

Squirrelflight staggered up to Ashfur. Hollyleaf had never seen her mother so angry. Her fur bristled with fury; she looked like a warrior of TigerClan. Yet it was obvious that the climb to the top of the cliff, followed by her struggle with the branch, had weakened her, and she was exhausted.

“Your quarrel with Brambleclaw has to stop,” she hissed. “Too many moons have passed. You have to accept that I’m Brambleclaw’s mate, not yours. You can’t keep trying to punish Brambleclaw for something that was always meant to be.”

Ashfur’s ears flicked up in surprise. “I have no quarrel with Brambleclaw.”

Hollyleaf exchanged a shocked glance with Lionblaze. “That’s not how it looks to me,” he muttered.

“I couldn’t care less about Brambleclaw,” Ashfur continued. “It’s not his fault he fell for a faithless she-cat.”

Faithless? A growl began to build in Hollyleaf ’s throat, but then she stopped and watched the cats on the other side of the blazing branches. Something ominous was taking place in front of her, and even with flame roaring around them she felt a sudden chill. She shrank closer to Lionblaze and Jayfeather, whose head was up, his sightless eyes intent, as if he could see the confrontation between his mother and Ashfur.

“I know you think I’ve never forgiven Brambleclaw for stealing you from me, but you’re wrong, and so is every cat that thinks so. My quarrel is with you, Squirrelflight.” Ashfur’s voice shook with rage. “It always has been.”

Horrified, Hollyleaf took a step back and felt her hind paws begin to slip on the edge of the cliff. Her head spun as lightning stabbed out and thunder drowned all other sounds, even the roaring fire. For a heartbeat she dangled over empty air, and she let out a strangled yowl.

Then she felt firm teeth meet in her scruff; blinking against the smoke, she realized that Lionblaze was hauling her back to safety. But there was no safety: only the hungry flames, and Ashfur blocking the end of the branch with fury in his eyes. Fiery sparks floated down on all three young cats, scorching their fur, and flames licked the underside of the branch; fear flooded afresh through Hollyleaf when she saw that it was already beginning to smolder.

Ashfur has to let us get out! But Hollyleaf couldn’t find any words to plead with him. What was happening here didn’t have anything to do with them, even if they died because of it.

“All this was moons ago.” Squirrelflight sounded puzzled. “Ashfur, I had no idea you were still upset.”

“Upset?” Ashfur echoed. “I’m not upset. You have no idea how much pain I’m in. It’s like being cut open every day, bleeding onto the stones. I can’t understand how any of you failed to see the blood. . . .”

His eyes clouded and his voice took on a wild, distant tone, as if he could see the blood spilling out of him now, sizzling on the burning ground. Terror burst through Hollyleaf and she pressed closer to her brothers. This cat was more dangerous than the storm or the fire, or the fall lurking perilously close to her hind paws.

Desperately she tried to step onto the end of the branch. At once Ashfur rounded on her, fully conscious again, his teeth bared in a snarl.

“Stay there!” Turning to face Squirrelflight but keeping one paw on the branch, he hissed, “I can’t believe you didn’t know how much you hurt me. You are the blind one, not Jayfeather. Who do you think sent Firestar the message to go down to the lake, where the fox trap was? I wanted him to die, to take your father away so you’d know the real meaning of pain.”

Hollyleaf ’s shocked gaze met Lionblaze’s. “He tried to kill Firestar?” she gasped. “He’s mad!”

Determination glittered in Lionblaze’s eyes, and he bunched his muscles for a giant leap. “I’m going to fight him.”

“No!” Hollyleaf fastened her teeth in his shoulder fur. “You can’t!” Her words were muffled now. “He’ll just push you into the fire.”

“Brambleclaw saved Firestar then,” Ashfur went on to Squirrelflight. “But he’s not here now. He’s not here—but your kits are.”

Squirrelflight’s eyes blazed. For a heartbeat Hollyleaf thought she was going to pounce on the gray warrior, but she knew that exhausted and in pain, her mother would have no chance. Squirrelflight seemed to realize it, too. She drew herself up, head high; she was trembling, but her voice was clear and brave.

“Enough, Ashfur. Your quarrel is with me. These young cats have done nothing to hurt you. Do what you like with me, but let them out of the fire.”

“You don’t understand.” Ashfur looked at her as if he was seeing her for the first time; his voice was puzzled and petulant. “This is the only way to make you feel the same pain that you caused me. You tore my heart out when you chose Brambleclaw over me. Anything I did to you would never hurt as much. But your kits . . .” He looked through the flames at Hollyleaf and her brothers, his eyes narrowing to dark blue slits. “If you watch them die, then you’ll know the pain I felt.”

The flames crackled threateningly closer; Hollyleaf felt as if the heat was about to sear her pelt into ashes. She edged backward, only to feel the edge of the hollow give way under her hind paws. The three of them were pressed tightly together, so close that if one of them lost their balance, all three would be dragged off the cliff. Hollyleaf couldn’t control the trembling that shook her whole body as her glance flickered between the cliff and the fire.

Jayfeather was crouched close to the ground, looking tinier than ever with his pelt slicked flat by the rain. Lionblaze’s claws were unsheathed, glinting as the lightning flashed out again, but the tension in his haunches didn’t come from preparing to leap at Ashfur; it came from the effort of keeping himself on the top of the cliff.

Squirrelflight raised her head, her gaze locked on Ashfur’s crazed eyes. “Kill them, then,” she meowed. “You won’t hurt me that way.”

Ashfur opened his jaws to reply, but said nothing. Hollyleaf and her brothers stared at their mother. What was Squirrelflight saying?

Squirrelflight took a step away from them, and glanced carelessly over her shoulder. Her green eyes were fiercer than Hollyleaf had ever seen them, with an expression she couldn’t read.

“If you really want to hurt me, you’ll have to find a better way than that,” Squirrelflight snarled. “They are not my kits.”

[jadarnr]

TRINITY BLOOD

RAGE AGAINST THE MOONS

(Sunao Yoshida)

Vol.1 From the Empire

FLIGHT NIGHT - Capitolo 2

Traduzione italiana di jadarnr dai volumi inglesi editi da Tokyopop.

Sentitevi liberi di condividere, ma fatelo per piacere mantenendo i credits e il link al post originale 🙏

Grazie a @trinitybloodbr per il suo prezioso contributo alla revisione sul testo originale giapponese ✨

La Tristan, con una lunghezza di duecentocinquanta iarde e seicentomila piedi cubi di elio, era la terza nave volante più grande al mondo. La superavano solo la Midguard Gerange del Regno di Germania e la Charmaneau del regno di Francia. Ma la sua velocità massima di cento miglia all’ora generata dalle eliche a doppia inversione del diametro di 13 iarde, insieme al suo lussuoso servizio passeggeri mettevano la Tristan in una categoria a sè stante.

La nave passeggeri era il fiore all’occhiello dei cieli del Regno di Albione.

“Ecco Capitano” disse Jessica.

“Oh grazie cara. Pensa che piloto questo mostro solo per extra come questi” confessò il Capitano. Annusò il ricco aroma del caffè. Il vapore inumidì i suoi baffi perfettamente tagliati, tipici dei nobili di Albion.

“Avete del tempo libero non é vero?” commentò la ragazza.

“Soprattutto tranquillo. Abbiamo ancora sei ore fino a Roma” rispose il Capitano.

Il timoniere e l’ingegnere erano rilassati e di buon umore— segni sicuri di un viaggio tranquillo.

“Dov’è il Vice Capitano Roswell?” Chiese il Capitano.

Dickins, il navigatore, si guardò intorno nello stretto ponte di comando, verso il sedile vuoto accanto a quello del capitano. “Capitano, ho visto Roswell di sotto. Non si sentiva bene perciò si è preso una pausa”. Lo informò Dickins.

“Non mi sembrava tanto in forma nemmeno a Londinium” osservò il Capitano.

“Si tratta di qualcosa di fisico o di personale?” Chiese il signor Orson, il timoniere, alzando un sopracciglio.

“Probabilmente qualcosa che ha mangiato” disse Dickins facendo l’occhiolino “ Sua moglie è la donna più adorabile che conosco, però…”

Il piccolo equipaggio della Tristan poteva sembrare sotto staffato per una nave così grande, ma avevano tutto sotto controllo. La loro sicurezza avrebbe tranquillizzato anche il più pauroso dei passeggeri. Ed essa era ben riposta. Il sistema di auto pilota della Tristan, disegnato dal geniale ingegnere Catherine Lang, era il fiore all’occhiello della nave. La Tristan era controllata da un ‘computer’, una reliquia della civiltà passata. Per questo motivo per pilotarla serviva solo un decimo dell’equipaggio. Ed il suo design rivoluzionario era senza pari.

“Signor Orson, mi scusi credo che…” Jessica indicò uno dei pannelli di controllo “L’assetto sia leggermente sabgliato. Non dovrebbe correggerlo?” Chiese.

“Fammi vedere. Uh. É vero. Come lo sapevi?” si chiese Orson guardando attentamente il pannello di controllo ed aggiustando un pulsante. Il resto dell’equipaggio sembrava divertito.

“Perché non lascia il timone a Jessica?” Suggerì Dickins.

Il Capitano rise “Mi renderesti il lavoro molto più semplice.”

Jessica arrossí per l’imbarazzo. Si vergognò per aver corretto il signor Orson. “Sono solo una hostess” farfugliò.

“Ma avevi fatto richiesta a questa compagnia per essere timoniere, giusto? Che spreco. Perché non possono giudicare meglio il talento?” Si lamentò il Capitano.

Il Capitano Connelly era conosciuto per le sue idee progressiste. Voleva l’equipaggio migliore, senza far caso al genere. Sapeva che quel mestiere era troppo pericoloso perché le vecchie abitudini andassero ad ostacolare il miglior lavoro possibile. Età e genere non avevano posto nella sua analisi.

“Lo farò notare ai miei superiori la prossima volta” disse il Capitano.

“Grazie, ma non c’è bisogno che faccia questo per me” mormorò Jessica timidamente.

“È nostro compito quello di raccomandare le persone con un vero talento, Jessica”

Proprio in quel momento ritornò il Vice Capitano Roswell, con un viso estremamente pallido.

“Dov’era finito Roswell?” Chiese il navigatore “E chi è lui?”

C’era un uomo dietro Roswell. Roswell iniziò a balbettare una presentazione, ma l’uomo lo interruppe “Sono Alfredo, Duca di Meinz, del Regno di Germania”

Il Duca si inchinò in maniera eccessiva. Il cappotto che portava, una costosa giacca con cappuccio, era minuziosamente confezionato. Il suo giovane viso mostrava un ghigno malvagio. “Perdonate l’intrusione, ma ho detto al signor Roswell che ho una passione per le navi volanti. Dopo aver insistito un po’, si é offerto di portarmi a vedere il ponte di controllo” disse il Duca con voce suadente.

“Duca, mi spiace ma non le posso permettere di rimanere qui” disse il Capitano educatamente. Il suo tono gentile diventò un rimprovero quando si rivolse al Vice Comandante Roswell “Cosa le è saltato in mente Vice Comandante? Sa benissimo che le persone non autorizzate non possono salire qui!” Il Capitano era furioso.

“Signore, la prego non si arrabbi con lui. La colpa è mia” disse il Duca con voce piatta.

A Jessica non piacevano per nulla le maniere affettate del Duca. Invece di sembrare nobile o elegante, appariva volgare ed insolente.

Pensò a quanto fastidioso fosse quel ricco Duca, e quanto invece fosse stato gentile quel povero prete che aveva incontrato solo pochi minuti prima. Anche se non aveva soldi, sembrava molto più ricco nello spirito.

Ora che ci pensava, non le sembrava di ricordare che nessun nobile Germanico avesse prenotato un viaggio sulla Tristan quella notte.

“Le mie più sincere scuse, Duca, ma non possiamo autorizzarla a rimanere sul ponte di controllo. Sono sicuro che capirà.”

“Che peccato” disse il Duca “Mi sarebbe proprio piaciuto far schiantare questa bellezza contro qualcosa di grosso, sapete? Così, per gioco”.

Lo humor nero del Duca non fece presa sull’equipaggio. Specialmente sul Capitano Connnelly, che disse “Questa nave ha una funzione di auto-pilota. Anche se l’equipaggio cambiasse la rotta… Hey! Ma che sta facendo?” Chiese il Capitano, sbigottito.

Il Duca fece scivolare un piccolo disco di metallo dalla sua manica e lo fece cadere in uno slot sul pannello di controllo. Il capitano tentó di fermare il braccio del Duca ma era troppo tardi.

“Che cos’ha fatto? Cos’era quello?”

Dickins si alzò per protestare, ma improvvisamente lo schermo del suo display tremoló e si spense. Prima che potesse capire cosa stava succedendo, lo schermo venne invaso da del testo indecifrabile.

“Capitano, il computer sta negando l’accesso!” Urló Dickins.

“Che cos’ha fatto?!” Esclamò il Capitano.

In quel momento la nave si inclinò in avanti, come cadendo in picchiata.

“Le impostazioni per la nostra destinazione non sono cambiate ma l’altitudine è scesa a meno trecento! Se continuiamo così ci schianteremo su Roma!” Gridò il timoniere.

Un sorriso sottile si allargò sulle labbra del Duca. “È tutto qui? Cavoli è stato fin troppo facile! Questo bestione cadrá sulla testa dei quel maledetto Vaticano! Ahah!”

Dickins afferró il bavero del Duca e lo scrollò violentemente “Sei pazzo? Morirai anche tu!” Urlò.

“Non credo proprio, sporco Terran! Morire non è tra i miei piani” disse il Duca seccamente. Dietro quel sorriso compiaciuto si allungarono i bianchi canini appuntiti del Duca ”Sono un Methuselah! La morte non può toccarmi!”

“Un vampiro!” Sputò Dickins. Fece a malapena in tempo a proferire quella parola che la sua gola venne tagliata dal Duca ad una velocitá impossibile da vedere da un occhio umano. Soffocando nel suo stesso sangue, il navigatore urlò e poi cadde a terra.

Il sangue schizzò in tutto il ponte di comando. Ogni angolo della stanza si riempì di grida di terrore. Uno per uno, ogni membro dell’equipaggio cadde vittima delle azioni brutali del Duca.

Alla fine rimase soltanto Jessica, il colore scomparso dal suo viso.

“Bambolina finalmente siamo soli!” Il ghigno lascivo del Duca rivelò le sue zanne.

Il mondo di Jessica iniziò a vorticare senza controllo. Tutto l’equipaggio era morto? E che ne era stato del Vice Capitano Roswell? Lo vide sdraiato a terra vicino ai suoi piedi, il corpo senza la testa. Essa si trovava sul pannello di controllo, la sua faccia congelata in un grido eterno.

“Ahah quel tizio era veramente un idiota. Che bisogno c’è di tenere degli ostaggi quando puoi ucciderli, stuprarli e poi bere da loro?”

Jessica sentì un dolore lancinante al petto. Le dita di Alfredo le palparono il seno sotto il suo grembiule. Iniziò ad ansimare per il dolore, la paura e l’umiliazione.

“La smetta la prego….”

“Così mi fai eccitare ancora di più. Quando ci si nutre delle donne, tanto vale possederle prima, e poi leccare il sangue dalla loro gola!”

Le labbra del vampiro si incurvarono. Alfredo afferrò uno dei suoi seni con una mano, Jessica inarcò la schiena esattamente come si aspettava, e le sue zanne si allinearono perfettamente con il suo collo.

“No!” Jessica gridò nel momento in cui sentì un dolore acuto nel collo.

“Signorina Jessica, stavo pensando…” la voce gentile del prete giunse dal portellone aperto. “È contro i dettami della Chiesa accettare la generosità senza poterla ripagare. Quindi pensavo che forse potrei lavare i piatti o pulire i bagni o… Ma che sta succedendo?”

Il vampiro indietreggiò alla vista della veste del prete e sibilò: “Vaticano!” Una corda sottile uscì da sotto il suo mantello.

“Un Vampiro?!”

Abel scivolò per terra su una pozza di sangue, proprio nel momento in cui una lama trapassava l’aria sopra la sua testa.

BANG! Improvvisamente un colpo di pistola li sorprese tutti.

La pistola fissata al fianco di Abel si era staccata accidentalmente. La pallottola era rimbalzata contro la parete ed era andata a colpire una tubatura sul muro dietro Jessica. La tubatura si spezzò e il vapore bollente fuoruscito da essa ustionò il vampiro.

Il Duca lasciò andare Jessica coprendosi la faccia in preda al dolore. Evidentemente perfino gli occhi ed il viso di un vampiro erano sensibili al vapore bollente.

“Signorina Jessica, da questa parte!” Gridò Abel.

Il prete afferrò il gomito di Jessica e scapparono via. Lei si voltò indietro per vedere il vampiro accecato imprecare e distruggere le console.

“Sei morto, cane del Vaticano! Mi hai sentito? Ti tirerò fuori l’intestino e lo userò per strangolarti!”

[trinitybloodbr]

E αqui começα o projeto de trαdução pαrα o Pt-Br dα Novel de Trinity Blood.

α série foi divididα em duαs pαrtes

R.α.M - Rαge αgαinst the Moons ( 6 volumes)

R.O.M - Reborn on the Mαrs (6 volumes)

Cαnon

Iremos começαr com α pαrte R.α.M - Rαge αgαinst the Moons e o seu primeiro volume.

A trαduçαo serα feitα α pαrtir dα novel originαl em jαponês.

Espero que nesse período de tempo, consigα encontrαr mαis fαs dessα obrα, que pαrα mim, é minhα fαvoritα em termos de vαmpiros.

Essα obrα nαo é de minhα αutoriα.

Trαdução feitα de fã pαrα fã.

NαO é αUTORIZαDO utilizαr essα trαdução em outros lugαres sem α devidα permissão.

𝔄𝔧𝔲𝔡𝔢𝔪 𝔬𝔰 𝔞𝔲𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔢𝔰 𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔭𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔡𝔬 𝔰𝔲𝔞𝔰 𝔬𝔟𝔯𝔞𝔰 𝔬𝔯𝔦𝔤𝔦𝔫𝔞𝔦𝔰.

[monstersflashlight]

Pavlovian response (Day 1/8 of 10k followers event)

Werewolf x fem!reader || dub-com, exhibitionism, public sex, knotting

It starts like a joke, but when it starts working… You keep doing it. You’ve been training him for what feels like forever but had only been a couple weeks. Every time you are excited and a bit horny, you ring the bell. With just a tiny ring, he’s ready and leaking, ready to fuck you senseless.

And it’s fun. For both of you.

Until you ring the bell one day by accident, and he gets to you with a raging hard on and mouth salivating already, almost feral. You laugh about it, and he looks at you confused and ready to fuck, but you just chuckle and tell him to calm down. He doesn’t like that, but you keep going through your day. After a while you start to give it a good though, and the more you think about it, the more you want to test it.

So you start doing every once in a while, alternating it with times you actually have sex with him. And it works every single time. You accidentally trained your werewolf husband into one of Pavlov’s dogs, they irony is not lost on you as you chuckle at the thought. Maybe that’s a bit offensive to werewolves, but so funny you can’t stop from giggling every time you ring the bell.

But then it goes south.

You are going to tease him like any other day, but you don’t look at the moon calendar before doing it. Teasing your werewolf husband any day is dangerous, but close to the full moon is almost suicidal. But you are dumb enough to not realize, to do it before thinking twice about it. You ring the bell and go outside, on your way to the pack meeting.

You don’t hear him approach, you don’t feel his heat, you don’t realize he’s behind you until his chest is covering your back and you are being pushed to the ground and he starts grinding his monstrous hard on against the seam of your clothed pussy.

You moan without having time to stop it, and he growls. That shouldn’t make you as wet as it does, but as soon as you hear him you are soaking your panties and wanting to rock back into his dick. You try to break free of him, but you feel his clawed hands against your back, pushing you to the ground as he pushes your ass up. You are in complete submission as he manhandles you until you are panting on the ground and your pants and panties are wet with his precum. He’s leaking so much you can hear it against your clothes.

“We- The pack… The pack-meeting,” you get out as he keeps grinding against your center, making your brain fuzzy and your body thrum with anticipation.

“You think it’s funny?” He growls, his voice so low and dangerous that you had to swallow a whimper. “You think you’d get away with training me into your good pet?” You want to laugh, to cry, you are not sure. But his dick is pressing your clothes against your clit and creating the most amazing friction, driving you so insane.

“I- I’m sorry,” you apologize, your voice breathy and needy, completely messed up after the constant grinding of his dick against your center.

He laughs cruelly, his body cracking behind you. “No, you are not. You love being treated roughly, you love when I fuck you senseless… And now, you are going to get every little bit of that.” You feel him change before you feel his claws prickling at your sides. His body turning so much bigger, so much stronger. You are swallowed by the size of him, so big and feral.

“He- Here?” You ask, trying to focus on the fact that you were outside, close to the pack-meeting point. Closer to all your friends. And you were about to get fucked.

“Yes.” He growls against your ear, his fangs too big to fit his mouth, saliva dripping down your neck as he holds you down and tears your clothes away. Just like that you are naked against the floor and his dick is rubbing against your soaked entrance.

“Somebody could see!” You exclaim, a bit alarmed. He growls against your ear. You groan, his feral nature turning you on more than anything ever could. “They- they are going to see!” You repeat, but he’s too far gone for that. Too far gone to care about anybody seeing you.

“Let them,” he growls. His dick pushes inside of you as you cry out.

He fucks you like a piston, fucking in and out of your pussy like he’s the owner of it, of you. And you can’t stop the ah ah ah you are letting out every time the tip of his dick hits your happy place.

When everyone starts arriving, you want to melt into the ground, but also melt into him. The pleasure is so intense and it’s only heightened by the eyes on you. You are exposed, your pussy being fucked in front of everyone as you groan and moan uncontrollably. He fucks you ferally, no control, no finesse, no caress at all about your well-being, just using you as his full moon toy.

And everyone is watching.

You want to be embarrassed, you want to be mad at him, but in reality you are just hot all over seeing everyone looking at you as you get fucked. Most of them say nothing, some of them are rubbing themselves through their clothes. And you can’t stop the broken groan escaping your mouth at the sight.

You come. Just like that, with everyone watching how much of a slut you are for him. Everyone watching as you get fucked without an inch out of your life. When he starts expanding inside of you, you scream. He growls and bites the back of your neck, making you submit completely to him as his knot fills you. You cry out again, whimpering as he grinds his hips against your pussy. Someone laughs at your pathetic attempt of moving, and your face is hot with embarrassment.

He fills you to the brim, and by the time his dick deflates, there’s an orgy going around you, some jerking off, some fucking, everyone is in some kind of nakedness. He pulls out and howls, enticing a bunch of responses from the rest of the pack. He looks at your abused pussy, leaking and stretched and licks you clean with his long and raspy tongue, so inhuman in his transformed form. You groan and come again, crying out as everyone around you cheers.

He picks you up and walks away. “Never thought she was such a slut…” Someone says as your werewolf husband carries you away, his tail wiggling behind him as he takes you to his den, to your house, to keep fucking you until he’s satisfied.

[magicdustsworld]

𝐀 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐄𝐑'𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: A guide on how to properly date your tattooed, big, bad boyfriend.

𝐓𝐑𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐒: Established relationship, slice of life

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: some profanity, biting(non sexual), fluff, no curse AU, usage of nicknames, no mentions of y/n. (Would be just a short series of drabbles)

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝟏 : 𝐆𝐄𝐓 𝐇𝐈𝐌 𝐓𝐎 𝐂𝐔𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐘𝐎𝐔

Divider credits: @cafekitsune

"I love you."

"What?"

"I love you." You say with a sheepish grin playing on your lips as you get on your knees, crawling over to him. The silk sheets crease under your deliberate yet rhythmic movements – something which he doesn't even seem to notice. For the felicity in your eyes and the ardor clouding your visage is a expression to great to ignore and even though it's Sukuna, he can't ignore you.

You reach his side, resting your arm on the bedframe, looking up at him with a expression akin to a child looking at something it holds dear. "You know I love you so much, right?"

He blinks, clearly baffled with your sudden proclamation of love. Raking his brain over everything he did today – nothing out of the ordinary except being a asshole to that one salesman who wouldn't take his leave until selling his– whatever it was. But for Sukuna that's ordinary cause he's a jerk at heart.

He tilts his head, "What do you want?"

"Your arm." You are quick to reply, voice carrying an ardor which is too loud to miss. "Give me your arm."

His eye twitches, shooting you a – are you serious – look. You reply with a nod, stretching your hand, asking to get served. A disinterested scowl graces his lips, sparing you a glance, he turns to the opposite side.

This time, your eye twitches. He did not just reject your advances. You huff, inching closer to him as you place your hand over his bicep, "Baby... look at me."

He does. You jut out lower lip, eyebrows furrowing and tipping your head up at him. He can't help but consider how much you ressemble a cat with that expression. He pinches his lips, "If you think that's going to convince me otherwise then you're wrong— ow!"

In no time, you have sunk your teeth on his bicep, the canines puncturing the flesh, incisors holding the skin in place as you glare up at him.

Sukuna winces in sheer pain, trying to pull his arm off of your hold but you remain adamant on not letting him go. "Owh— what the actual fuck woman? Let go of me!"

You do let go, retracting your mouth but do not let go of his arm. You pout at him and Sukuna looks down at the attacked area. A circle of crescent moon shapes has forned on the part of the skin – it hurts like a bitch.

He turns to face you fully, crimson eyes blazing with a rage as he looks down on you. "What the hell was that for?"

You pout, narrowing your eyes, "Cuddle with me."

"After that stunt you pulled? Absolutely not."

"Absolutely yes."

He glares at you and you glare back; the silence turning into a staring match.

Sukuna scans your face, the crease on your forehead to the way you've twisted your lips and finally the flicker of vexation in your eyes.

Definitely a cat.

He sighs, threading his fingers through his hair before stretching out his arm. "Come here."

In an instant the irkness vanishes and you jump into his arms, eyes gleaming with delight and mouth stretched into a triumph grin. You giggle, "I knew you'd come along." You say, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck as Sukuna loops his arm around your waist, shifting you to a closer and better position.

He sighs, "Whatever, brat. Just don't bite me again."

You pursue your lips, gazing at him with a guilt. Leaning up, you press your lips against his cheeks in a chaste kiss, "Mhm, sorry."

Heat rushes up Sukuna's face, spreading from his ears to his neck; he looks away from you.

"Aw, are you blushing?"

"Shut up."

"You are blushing."

He merely responds with placing his hand on the back of your head and pushing your face down on his chest. "Shut up."

You giggle, mumbling something incoherent before snuggling closer to him. "I love you."

This time, Sukuna doesn't suppress the idiotic grin which spreads on his lips. With your face pressed against his chest, he strokes your hair, placing a soft kiss on top of your head.

"I know, brat."

𝐄𝐏𝐈𝐒𝐎𝐃𝐄 𝟐

[my-castles-crumbling]

motel - November 3rd - jegulus - @taylorswiftmicrofic - word count: 248

"There's nothing else?" Sirius asked the harried-looking person at the front desk, his voice a bit desperate but not rude.

"Sorry sir," she frowned. "Two rooms on opposite sides of the building, each with a king bed. That's all we have."

James, Sirius, Remus, and Regulus all stared outside from the snow storm raging to their very ill-equipped car.

"Alright," Sirius sighed. "We'll take them. I'll share with Reg and James and Moons can share."

"That's stupid," Regulus piped up, rolling his eyes. "Share a bed with your boyfriend, Sirius. James and I can deal with each other for one night."

Frowning, Sirius looked between James and Regulus, as if trying to see if they could actually last twenty four hours without killing each other.

"I promise I won't severely injure him," Regulus added, sending Sirius an annoyed look. James just chuckled uncomfortably. "We can get along for a night, can't we, James?"

"Yeah," James shrugged, grimacing a bit.

After a moment, Sirius seemed to give in. "Fine. But remember the roads are out, so no there are ambulances if you stab each other."

It wasn't until ten minutes later when they entered their room that Regulus and James turned to each other. James, beaming ear to ear, pressed Regulus against the door and immediately began kissing down his neck. "Think we can get along for the night, Reg?" he whispered in his ear, his breath making him shiver.

"I think so," Regulus smirked, pulling their lips together.

[i2sunric]

𝐋𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐁𝐘 (s.jy)

PAIRING: horny!jake x succubus!reader (f)

SUMMARY: jake has always been an hyper sexual type boy, always seeking relief in the depth of night. but his hand isn't as satisfying anymore and neither are his toys, and in his moment of desperation, you appear like a gift sent from heaven (or hell).

WARNINGS: kinktober. succubus (a sexual demon), masturbating, pillow humping, riding, overstimulation, messy blow job, jake is kinda sub, doggy, missionary, unprotected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy!), cream pie, dirty talking, manhandling, (idk if there’s a slight cnc?), slight choke kink, jake whines and whimpers (we like), cum eating, oral (m receiving), pussy licking, pet names (jakey, baby), lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

PUBLISHED: 20th October 2024

WC: 2.9k

TAGLIST: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @jwnghyuns @bangtancultsposts @shawnyle @jooniesbears-blog @skzenhalove @ro-diaries @onlyhyunjin @xcosmi @strawberrhypen @heeheeswifey @destinyhoon @jakeflvrz @emislove @astratlantis @tunafishyfishylike @branchrkive @insommni4 @kirinaa08 @leiclerc @nxzz-skz @laurradoesloveu @beomluvrr @heeshlove (oneshot) @leov3rse @eileenville @roastandtoast @heeaxvhhoon @doublebunv @ancnymcnzjy @heartynoo @rii7eis7 @lyxnneee @yunahszx

a/n: i literally have 8 drafts for kinktober but i’m not sure i’ll be able to finish them all (sorry). i don’t even really like how this one came out but i thought i owned y’all some new fics since i’ve been ia for a while. please REBLOG to spread bcs only likes don’t take authors so far. thank you 🩷

Jake was resting on his bed, or so he tried to. His back was against the mattress, the only light illuminating the room was the one of the moon, entering from the window as if to peek to his desperation.

Fact was, he had been a painful hard on the whole day and fate wanted that he couldn’t seem to make himself come.

It was true when they said that as you overdo something, you grow tired of it, because his hand had stopped working a couple of weeks before, which led him to the sex shop downtown to purchase a couple of toys.

And they worked, for the following couple of days until the empty feeling after jerking off hadn’t come back.

“Ugh…” He muttered to himself, he was desperate at this point.

His entire body felt hot with arousal, the air around him getting stuffy. It was a wonder how his hand hadn’t fallen off from all the wanking he had done in the past week.

Jake was left with a raging bulge making fun of him through the fabric of his sweats, his cock so hard it was even painful to exist.

He grabbed his phone from off to the side, opening up the internet in hopes of finding something to satisfy his needs. He began scrolling on a pornography site, a small sigh escaping from his mouth as he quickly found something he liked.

It was a rather soft porn, just a ‘morning sex’ one, he skipped all the intro until it got to the good part.

Jake slowly pulled down his sweats, just enough to free his cock from the restraints of the clothing.

He hadn’t even worn his boxers to bed, feeling suffocated.

He raised the volume of the video, holding his phone with one hand while he started to touch himself with the other.

He was sensitive, slowly pumping his shaft up and down. As the moans of the video got louder and the boy fucked the girl harder into the mattress, he too tried to fast his pace— and nothing.

Jake continued his search, even going to the hidden pictures of his galleries where he kept screenshots of his favourite porns of all times.

Nothing seemed to work on him, nothing brought him enough pleasure to get him off.

Jake groaned loudly and threw his phone on the mattress, far away from him.

He stared at his cock as if it had personally offended him, it stood proud and angry red in front of him.

Suddenly, an idea flashed in his mind.

If hand didn’t work, and neither did the kinky toys he got, he’d have to try the traditional way of fucking a pillow.

He grabbed the pillow from behind his head and turned around, his chest now pressed onto the mattress.

Jake rested his head on the other, smaller pillow while he raised his backside, enough to make a makeshift hole of the pillow.

He inserted his aching cock and thrusted his hips, slowly. The fabric of the pillow touching his length made him moan softly. He tried to imagine someone being under him, someone letting him rut his cock inside of them.

Just as he focused on the small pleasure he got, a giggle made his eyes widen in surprise.

Peeking from behind his shoulder, he noticed a red figure.

“What—“ Jake turned around, covering his dignity with the pillow (as if he wasn’t just grinding on it). There was no way someone had entered his bedroom, or his house in general. He remembered he had locked all the doors before going to bed, so how did you get inside?

You stood in front of the bed, looking at him with a wide smile on your face. Your skin was reddish, and you had small horns on your head, as well as a tail moving left and right, as if you were amused by the scene you had just witnessed.

“Hey,” You purred, waving your hand at him “Having fun there?”

“Who are you?” He asked, moving into a sitting position “Or… what are you?”

Your body was barely covered by a brown top and a pair shorts of the same colour, making your curves and body perfectly visible.

Lord, if you weren’t such an arousing sight. Had he been in the right mind, and not clouded by lust, he would’ve realised you were a succubus.

A demon that got its power from having sex with desperate men in the middle of the night, taking strength by their semen. Your body was meant to make him horny.

“Don’t worry about it...” You raised a brow, as if to ask, him for his name.

Jake understood and cleared his throat “Jake.”

You smiled happily “Jake, what a pretty name for a pretty boy!” You exclaimed.

“I am Y/N.” You introduced yourself, placing a hand on your chest, clearly making his attention go to your tits.

He nodded in reply, his eyes ranking over your figure warily “So.. what are you?”

You just rolled your eyes. “It doesn’t matter, I’m here to help you.” You bit your bottom lip “Don’t hide from me.”

Jake glanced down at where the pillow was hiding his lower body and let out a shaky breath.

He debated whether to listen to you or try and get some more answers out of you— but you were so willingly giving your help to him, he couldn’t just refuse you. Not after he had waited for this moment so long.

Cautiously, he removed the pillow, showing his cock that sprang free.

Your eyes widened and your mouth watered. “Aren’t you huge?” You complimented, loving the way it throbbed at your comment.

Just the sight of your perfect body made some precum leak from the tip, and you knew he must’ve been so pent up he was suffering.

“You don’t have a pussy to bury your pretty cock in?” You purred, slowly crawling on the bed.

“N-no.” Jake replied.

“It’s okay,” You stated, slowly pumping his shaft “You can use mine.”

Just your mere touch made his mind grow foggy, your pretty palm wrapped around his length.

He moaned softly as you spat on it, using your saliva to lubricate the skin.

Jake’s eyes fluttered shut, it just felt so good to finally be touched by something that wasn’t his own hand, and he whimpered when your mouth wrapped around him.

It was so warm and it felt so good, the way you slowly moved up and down, bobbing your head to pleasure him.

Without even him realising, his hand had moved to your hair, grasping your locks as he thrusted upwards.

In a way, you liked how desperate he was. Your power was lowering the past few days and he was just what you needed— a horny college student in desperate need of filling some nice pussy.

Oh, if only he knew your true intentions.

His hips began to move as he held you still, fucking your mouth like you were a flesh light. Though you felt even better.

You gagged around his length and the sound only fuelled his contorted desires. “Mh— fuck.” He moaned, his hips snapping back and forth “So good,” Jake breathed out “So fucking good.”

You decided to hollow your cheeks and let him use you, one of your hands moving inside your panties to lazily circle your clit. You were already dripping wet, while he was leaking precum inside your mouth, filling your taste buds with a bittersweet taste.

“I’m so close, M’gonna— Oh!” He groaned loudly as he shot his thick load down your throat, his cock pulsating inside your mouth as he pushed your head down further. You palmed his balls, just adding to the overwhelming pleasure he felt.

You could almost feel him whole down your throat, you frowned as you tried your best not to gag around it.

After a couple of seconds, he let you go, his breath heavy as he tried to regain strength.

You pulled away and licked your lips, loving the sweet taste of his cum.

And as you looked down, you noticed he was already hard. You widened your eyes, a smirk forming on your lips.

But Jake wasn’t as lust-high as he had been when you found him humping his night pillow, and he sat up properly.

With one swift movement he grabbed your throat, making sure not to squeeze it too tight and he pressed his plump lips on yours.

As surprised as you were, you quickly recovered and reciprocated the kiss, teeth crashing and tongues swiping one on the other.

His free hand snuck between your thighs, feeling your wetness, making him swallow your moan.

“So wet for me, mh?” Jake murmured on your lips, helping you out of your tight shorts “Let me give you back your favours.”

You felt his finger press against your entrance but you stopped him. You certainly didn’t need any prepping, the only thing you needed was him shooting his cum deep inside of you.

But that, he didn’t need to know, so you just whined “Need you inside of me Jakey, please.”

“Yeah?” He retrieved his hand, manhandling you into the mattress. He crashed your head on the pillow - yes, the one he was fucking just a few minutes before - and held your ass up.

It was cute how he thought he was in charge, but you didn’t mind being dominated, so you let him be.

He opened your asscheeks with his slender fingers and licked a long stripe out of your folds, making you moan.

“Hurry,” You pressed your backside further into his face, making Jake slap your asscheek.

Had your skin not been already red, his slap would’ve left an angry mark. But you liked it, so you pressed your ass against him again.

Jake groaned, slapping the same asscheek that left a burning sensation cursing through your body.

He moved up, quickly discarding his shirt and sweatpants, throwing them somewhere on the floor. “Want a condom?” You almost laughed at his question, reaching a hand to pull him close, you hissed “Give it to me raw.”

He felt himself grow even harder at your dirty talk, he pumped his shaft and pressed it against your clit, gathering all your sweet juices.

You hummed softly at the teasing, needing him to be inside of you, that thick cock to press against your cervix and making you see the heaven you weren’t allowed in.

With one quick thrust, Jake slammed all of himself inside of you, knocking the air out of your lungs.

It was true that you didn’t need any prepping, having done this for a living - literally - but you felt him whole, “S’deep.” You sighed.

Jake moaned at how your walls hugged him, squeezing any drop of precum, swallowing his full length.

He pulled out just to slam back inside, gripping your asscheeks. “Fuck,” He breathed out, his pace already quickening as he tried to chase both of your highs.

“You like it deep, baby?” He asked, “You like it feeling me so deep inside of ya?”

You nodded, reaching your hand behind to touch him, but Jake got ahold of your wrists and held both of them behind your back.

The position would’ve been uncomfortable if you weren’t so aroused, it’d been a while since you were fucked hard and Jake seemed like the best victim you had in ages.

“Pussy so good,” He grunted, eyes squeezing as he felt himself near the edge “So fucking perfect, baby.”

You tried to peek at him from behind your shoulder, and Jake noticed. He gave you a sly wink and let go of your wrists, pulling out of you to turn you around.

Your back was now on the mattress, the human spread your legs wide as he aligned with your entrance once again.

He positioned your legs on his shoulders and quickly got inside again, as if he were addicted to being in you, his balls slapped against your ass.

“Better, ain’t it?” You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him down to you to kiss his lips “I get to see your pretty face as I fill you up with my cum.” The angle you were bent was awkward but you didn’t really care.

The thought made you clench around him and Jake groaned in your mouth, his cock rutting fast and deep.

The squelching sound of skin slapping filled the room, for once Jake was glad of owning a house and not an apartment, or the neighbours would’ve had already come to complain.

He held your throat with his veiny hands, adding just the right amount of pressure to make you light-headed.

“Jakey,” You breathed out, mouth agape “Want your cum, give it to me.”

Your words only fuelled his desire, he sped his movements - if it was even possible - his face contorted in pleasure as he felt his orgasm approach.

“Yes, yes, M’gonna give it to you, baby,” He chanted out, his cock throbbing “Fuck— I’m gonna fill you up so good.”

He rested his forehead against your shoulder and squeezed your clothed breast, kneading at the soft flesh.

His movements became sloppy until with one last, deep thrust he came deep inside of you.

“Yes!” You breathed out, as his cum flooded inside of you, you could feel yourself growing stronger, your powers returning.

Jake’s movements grew slower until they stopped, his laboured breath tickled your skin.

He was tired, strangely so, he pulled out of you and laid beside you “Shit, this was the best thing that has ever happened to me.”

His eyes closed as exhaustion washed over him, but you weren’t done.

Oh, you were far from done.

First, you hadn’t come yet and second, you needed more of his semen.

You climbed on top of him, smiling at his fucked up state. He looked so pretty with messy hair, swollen lips and red cheeks.

Jake slowly opened his eyes, widening them a little as he took you in “Y/N? What are you— Fuck.”

He groaned loudly as you fisted his softened cock, wanting him to get hard again so you could ride him.

“S-stop.” He gripped your hand but you were stronger than him now, shoving it away “Shh, I’ll make you feel good, pinky promise.”

You chuckled within yourself, slowly grinding your wet pussy on his hardening length.

Jake sighed, his hands lazily holding your hips “You need to cum, baby?”

You hummed, your fingers grazing his happy trail “Mh… yes, will you make me?”

Jake nodded, his eyes half lidded “I can use my tongue, no need to…” He grunted as you lifted yourself and held his dick up, slowly lowering on him.

As you bottomed out, you moaned, the shadow of his bulge peeking through your stomach.

You threw your head back, his cock sliding in and out easily thanks to your wetness and his previous orgasm still lingering inside of you.

“M-too sensitive baby, please…” You chuckled, “You can take another one.”

His brows furrowed as you alternated between moving up and down and grinding him, his nails digging in the skin of your hips.

“So? Can you take another one, mh?” Jake sighed, nodding his head weakly “Y-yes.”

“Atta’ boy.” You exclaimed, rewarding him by riding him faster.

Jake felt all of your movements, the overwhelming sensation making his body rock with tremors “Can’t… can’t.”

“No, you can.” You grasped his shoulders and moved your hips almost frantically, your clit brushing against his skin.

His body tensed, his feet flexing and relaxing, “Fuck… I’m gonna cum again.”

You bit your bottom lip, feeling your climax reach as well “Mh… give it all to me, Jakey.”

His hands moved to your breasts as he squeezed them to the point of pain, you clenched around him and he snapped.

His cum shot inside of you, his cock throbbing painfully as he came for the third time of the night.

He whimpered when you didn’t stop, trying to move you away but you didn’t, you just kept moving until you saw white as well.

Your legs trembled as you reached your euphoria, while Jake’s body collapsed whole on the bed.

His eyes slowly closed, too tired to even stay awake. He slowly succumbed to sleeping.

You smiled victoriously, feeling your powers raise even more. Standing up, you let the remaining of his semen drop out of you and stretched.

Sighing contentedly, you reached for your discarded shorts and put them back on.

“I’m feeling so refreshed!” You smiled happily, but as you turned around you saw Jake’s slumped figure on the mattress.

Feeling pitiful, since he seemed so vulnerable, you covered his naked body with the blanket. Smiling at his face, you noticed he really was a pretty guy.

You leaned down and pressed a gentle kiss on his cheek, moving some hair out of his sticky forehead.

“See you soon, Jakey.” You smirked and disappeared, with the intention of coming back to him whenever you felt weak. Which, maybe would’ve happened more often.