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queenvreads · 8 months

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REVIEW: Hollow Heathens by Nicole Fiorina

3/5 ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

This story started off strongly but declined as it progressed. I managed to finish this book in a day, but I did skim through a lot. The story seemed to drag on towards the end; it didn't need to be that long.

Fallon is lured back to the town she was born in to take care of her ill estranged grandfather. There is a magical history in this town, prophecies, and cursed individuals.

She meets Julian, who is a Hollow Heathen, someone who has been cursed. She doesn't belong with him, but of course, they are drawn together.

I do love this type of story, and I was fully invested for the first half of the book. I loved the angst, the darkness, the natural pull between Julian and Fallon. It was great! Until it wasnt… I just suddenly stopped caring.

I just finished reading "Her Soul To Take," and I found that the plot was really similar. So it didn't feel that fresh. ' A girl comes back to hometown she hasn’t been since birth. Mysterious parents she never really knew, dark evil forces that have plans for her because she’s part of some prophecy.. A monster man who grabs her heart'… sounds familiar? LOL I also found the story a little reminiscent of "The Vampire Diaries," not the same at all, but the town had very Mystic Falls vibes, full of lies and secrets, and of course, I love that!

Where the story started to weaken for me was the back-and-forth between Julian and Fallon, him pushing her away but then needing to be with her. He was acting so pitiful, tortured. Like we get it, he’s this MISUNDERSTOOD dark figure that has the weight of the world on his shoulders, and he’s a monster, yadda yadda. But dear lord, the forbidden-ness became very irritating at some point. Everyone knew they were together, yet it was still such a problem. Also, when Fallon first met her grandpa, I found their interaction so weird. Like she came for him, to care for him, and he was just grumpy about it, telling her she shouldn't have. I know we find out later in the story about that disconnect, but any normal person would have said, "Hey man, you wrote to me to come here, what are you bitching about?" LOL

There were a lot of useless conversations and scenes that, as I said, dragged the story. Not only that, but I skimmed through those parts and really pushed to get to the end to understand the CURSE and how Fallon & Julian are tied, and... Yo, that ending was SO RUSHED. It was like… boom and then ‘the end.’ The story should have been shorter, and the ending better. I also felt like the characters acted so young, like it read like YA at times, but they are supposed to be in their mid-twenties. I also found some of the romance scenes a bit cringey? Like their first time, which was also Fallon’s first time... Julian just sort of told her “this will hurt” and literally kept it going, and she was thinking, "I hate this, why do people have sex?" Yikes. Idk, I’m torn. Like I said, it was good until it wasn't.

Overall it was ‘good’ I finished it, but I did skim a lot towards the end. But not the best, just very familiar in many ways to better stories.

#bookstagram #bookish #booktok #booklr #books #book review #romance #dark #gothic #small town #mystic falls #cult #witches #coven #prophecy #cursed #paranormal #nicole fiorina #hollow heathens

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vulturereyy · 10 months

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Don't worry guys hegemol is totally fine don't look at that last post he's fine see he's fine

#lurien can never get him to pose for art bc he always falls asleep #lu is telling him about the new pigments he got until he falls asleep #so lurien can wriggle out and go back to work like a heathen until aedmon cuts him off from tea at about 3 am #he says sir. go the fuck to sleep #lurimol #lurien the watcher #hk hegemol #hk lurien #mighty hegemol #my art #hollow knight #mallowdraws

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ryuichifoxe · 2 years

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*chin hands* :)

#I have so much to do today #but the whole commute home all I wanted #to draw was a matching emery #emery becerra #hollow ground #yes the scar placement being opposites was on purpose #✨for funsies✨#ryu art #ryu plays fallen hero #sidestep #fhr #y'all heathens still shouldn't thirst over HG #but I made Emery a nice looking man so that's on me #that was his base haha

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aetherielwanderer · 11 days

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#0053 BRS Dawn Serenade, owned and ridden by @mischiefpup, and dam and daughter team #0042 BRS Mountain Mimzy & #0065 BRS Mountain Lotus, owned and handled by @ellifainstarglow, riding in tonight's Western Class over at Raven Hollow Equestrian

Visit: Raven Hollow Equestrian

Campion Mustang Breed Club

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smashpages · 2 years

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Vault Comics has announced UNBANNED — “a Pride month initiative to give away free queer books to everyone, everywhere.” If you’ve followed the news over the last few months, you know that there’s a very orchestrated campaign going on right now against books with LGBTQ+ themes (among others) as politicians attempt to win points with constituents. Vault is not only making some of their titles by LGBTQ+ creators available for free on their web store all month, but also shared a very heartfelt message with LGBTQ+ readers in doing so.

Banning books is nothing new to the world of comics and literature, but in recent months we’ve seen an unprecedented uptick in new bans across the country. These bans have targeted many queer books and creators. And while politicians and extremist groups may be working hard to erase LGBTQIA+ voices, we at Vault Comics continue to maintain that this space, our space, has always and will always be safe — but more than safe, it will be loud, proud, and unapologetic.

For anyone in an area where bans are being enacted, we see you. You are not forgotten, and you are not alone. Queerness is powerful. It is human. We will celebrate and be celebrated together.

So, for the next five weeks, we at Vault are giving away a different LGBTQIA+ themed title, by LGBTQIA+ creators, on our digital store for free. Use the code: “UNBANNED” on the digital version of these books in our webstore to receive them with no strings attached, and check back each Monday for a new title you can add to your library:

June 1st: Heathen Vol. 1

June 6th: Submerged

June 13th: She Said Destroy

June 20th: Test

June 27th: Queen of Bad Dreams & Hollow Heart

PRIDE is as much of a protest as it is a celebration, an opportunity to shout and laugh and chant together. To assert that we will never be silenced, we refuse to be erased, we reject your bans, we’re not going anywhere, and our stories don’t just matter for a month, they matter forever and always, backward through history and forward into the future.

Queer stories shape the world.

We’ll never stop telling them.

— Vault Comics

– Damian Wassel, CEO & Publisher – Adrian Wassel, Editor-In-Chief – Nathan Gooden, SeniorArtist – David Dissanayake, V.P. of Sales & Marketing – Syndee Barwick, Director – Sales & Marketing, Book Trade – Daniel Crary, Communications Director – Alex Scola, Social Media + Digital Advertising – Ian Baldessari, Production Manager – Tim Daniel, Art Director, Branding & Design – Sonja Synak, Art Director / Wonderbound

#pride month #vault comics #free comics #unbanned #heathen #submerged #she said destroy #test #queen of bad dreams #hollow heart #comics

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graphicpolicy · 2 years

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Vault announces its "Unbanned" Pride Month Initiative, Giving Away Free Comics

Vault announces its "Unbanned" Pride Month Initiative, Giving Away Free Comics #comics #comicbooks

Pride Month is underway and Vault Comics is not only celebrating it but also addressing the attacks on LGBTQIA+ books and comics across the country. While banning books is nothing new to the world of comics and literature, there has been an unprecedented uptick in new bans across the country as part of the cynical right-wing culture war in hopes of winning elections to enact further draconian…

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#comic books #Comics #heathen #hollow heart #pride month #queen of bad dreams #she said destroy #submerged #test #vault comics

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el-tur-el · 1 month

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(Last updated 3/14/24)

Want to request something? Please read my request guidelines here!

Oneshots:

Rolan: It's the waiting, love, it's the wanting (Explicit) Penumbra (Mature) manibus adhuc mollior. (Explicit) Dammon: i will wine and dine you in the hollows. (Explicit)

Ikaron: ceilings, plaster. (Explicit)

Harper Geraldus: like a heathen clung to the homily. (Explicit)

Multi-Chapter Fics:

Girl Against God (Rolan/F!Tav, Explicit)

Headcanons:

Rolan comforting Tav after a nightmare Dammon with a partner who is a craftsperson

#shut up t #bg3 #rolan bg3 #rolan x tav #bg3 rolan #dammon bg3 #dammon x tav #geraldus x tav #bg3 geraldus #bg3 x reader #ikaron x tav #bg3 ikaron

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bookishbethanyerin · 1 year

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• Review: Hollow Heathens•

I know it’s time for all the festive year-end holidays, but if you’re still craving something spooky, you *need* to pick up Hollow Heathens by Nicole Fiorina.

It’s an intense, Gothic-inspired love story set in Weeping Hollow, a Maine town occupied by two very different covens and hidden from the rest of the world — and the book is filled with incredibly atmospheric and evocative writing that will have you re-reading sentences two and three times because they’re just so *good*. Plus, if you’re a Stephen King and/or Mary Shelley fan, there are tons of clever Easter eggs for you to find.

So if you’re not quite ready for festive cheer, hang out in Weeping Hollow with Fallon and Julian – I’m willing to bet you’ll find yourself completely absorbed in their haunting love story.

4.25🌟

1🌶

#hollow heathens #nicole fiorina #book review #books #bookish #paranormal romance #kindle unlimited #book rec #book recommendation

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whatisamettafor · 1 year

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An art courtesy of my dear friend’s latest obsession, I cannot wait to read Hollow Heathens and Bone Island, it’s going to be so good XD

#hollow heathens #bone islan #phoenix wildes #fable sullivan

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battyaboutbooksreviews · 5 months

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Queer Books November 2023

🌈 Good afternoon, my bookish bats! Struggling to keep up with all the amazing queer books coming out this month? Here are a FEW of the stunning, diverse queer books you can add to your TBR before the year is over. Remember to #readqueerallyear! Happy reading!

❤️ The Pirate and the Porcelain Girl by Emily Riesbeck 🧡 Heading North by Holly M. Wendt 💛 The Wisdom of Bug by Alyson Root 💚 Trick Shot by Kayla Grosse 💙 A Holly Jolly Christmas by Emily Wright 💜 Outdrawn by Deanna Grey ❤️ Yours Celestially by Al Hess 🧡 The Christmas Memory by Barbara Winkes 💛 Violet Moon by Mel E. Lemon 💙 The Santa Pageant by Lillian Barry 💜 Only for the Holidays by Shannon O’Connor 🌈 Homestead for the Holidays by Wren Taylor

❤️ You Can Count on Me by Fae Quin 🧡 No One Left But You by Tash McAdam 💛 The Worst Thing of All is the Light by José Luis Serrano, Lawrence Schimel 💚 Today Tonight Forever by Madeline Kay Sneed 💙 Wren Martin Ruins It All by Amanda DeWitt 💜 Emmett by L. C. Rosen ❤️ Finding My Elf by David Valdes 🧡 Tonight, I Burn by Katharine J. Adams 💛 Gorgeous Gruesome Faces by Linda Cheng 💙 Bookshops & Bonedust by Travis Baldree 💜 A Power Unbound by Freya Marske 🌈 We Are the Crisis by Cadwell Turnbull

❤️ The Manor House Governess by C.A. Castle 🧡 You Owe Me One, Universe by Chad Lucas 💛 Last Night at the Hollywood Canteen by Sarah James 💚 Skip!: A Graphic Novel by Rebecca Burgess 💙 Something About Her by Clementine Taylor 💜 Touching the Art by Mattilda Bernstein Sycamore ❤️ A Nearby Country Called Love by Salar Abdoh 🧡 Normporn: Queer Viewers and the TV That Soothes Us by Karen Tongson 💛 Sir Callie and the Dragon’s Roost by Esme Symes-Smith 💙 The Order of the Banshee by Robyn Singer 💜 Once Upon My Dads’ Divorce by Seamus Kirst, Noémie Gionet Landry 🌈 Forsooth by Jimmy Matejek-Morris

❤️ A Common Bond by T.M. Kuta 🧡 Risk the Fall by Riley Hart 💛 Just a Little Snack by Yah-Yah Scholfield 💚 Home for the Holidays by Erin Zak 💙 NeurodiVeRse by MJ James 💜 Dark Heir (Dark Rise #2) by C.S. Pacat ❤️ sub/Dom by Rab Green 🧡 Bitten by the Bond by Elaine White 💛 Heir to Frost and Storm by Ben Alderson 💙 The Sea of Stars by Gwenhyver 💜 Bad Beat by L.M. Bennett 🌈 Idol Moves by K.T. Salvo

❤️ Plot Twist by Erin La Rosa 🧡 In the Pines by Mariah Stillbrook 💛 The Crimson Fortress (The Ivory Key #2) by Akshaya Raman 💚 Only She Came Back by Margot Harrison 💙 Megumi & Tsugumi, Vol. 4 by Mitsuru Si 💜 Pritty by Keith F. Miller Jr. ❤️ Just Lizzie by Karen Wilfrid 🧡 An Atlas to Forever by Krystina Rivers 💛 Come Find Me in the Midnight Sun by Bailey Bridgewater 💙 Bait and Witch by Clifford Mae Henderson 💜 Shadow Baron by Davinia Evans 🌈 Day by Michael Cunningham

❤️ Livingston Girls by Briana Morgan 🧡 Delay of the Game by Ari Baran 💛 The Nanny with the Nice List by K. Sterling 💚 A Talent Ignited by Suzanne Lenoir 💙 A Kiss of the Siren’s Song by E.A.M. Trofimenkoff 💜 Rivals for Love by Ali Vali ❤️ Whiskey & Wine by Kelly Fireside, Tana Fireside 🧡 Buried Secrets by Sheri Lewis Wohl 💛 Ride with Me by Jenna Jarvis 💙 Living for You by Jenny Frame 💜 Death on the Water by CJ Birch 🌈 Merciless Waters by Rae Knowles

❤️ Vicarious by Chloe Spencer 🧡 Sapling’s Depths by Spencer Rose 💛 That French Summer by Sienna Waters 💚 System Overload by Saxon James 💙 King of Death by Lily Mayne 💜 Warts and All by Ashley Bennett ❤️ Principle Decisions by Thea Belmont 🧡 The Best Mistake by Emily O’Beirne 💛 Sugar and Ice by Eule Grey 💙 Until The Blood Runs Dry by MC Johnson 💜 Splinter : A Diverse Sleepy Hollow Retelling by Jasper Hyde 🌈 The Mischievous Letters of the Marquise de Q by Felicia Davin

❤️ The Queer Girl is Going to be Okay by Dale Walls 🧡 Til Death Do Us Bard by Rose Black 💛 Leverage by E.J. Noyes 💚 Alice Sadie Celine by Sarah Blakley-Cartwright 💙 Godly Heathens by H.E. Edgmon 💜 Gwen & Art Are Not in Love by Lex Croucher ❤️ To Kill a Shadow by Katherine Quinn 🧡 Warrior of the Wind by Suyi Davies Okungbowa 💛 For Never & Always by Helena Greer 💙 A Demon’s Guide to Wooing a Witch by Sally Hawley 💜 Heaven Official’s Blessing: Tian Guan Ci Fu Vol. 8 by Mò Xiāng Tóng Xiù 🌈 A Carol for Karol by Ann Roberts

#book release #queer fiction #queer romance #queer books #queer #books #books to read #queer book recs #book recs #batty about books #battyaboutbooks

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jokeringcutio · 6 months

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Ernst Toller x Reader (Witch)- Sweet Halloween (Contains smut)

AN: Follow me for more Halloween Reader Inserts. More stories will follow this month.

Fandom: First Reformed Pairing: Ernst Toller x Witch!Reader Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Mention of inner conflict, Pastor x Witch, Explicit Sexual Content, Slight Bondage: Ernst is tied down, Reader on top. The prompt:

Tags: @ethanhawkelover01 Witch’s Night

The dimly lit living room felt suffocating as Ernst Toller sat alone on Halloween evening. The candy bowl rested on his lap, a weighty reminder of the children who would come knocking. It felt wrong to open it, but how could he keep his door closed for the children he wanted to bring into his church? He needed to be seen as someone charitable, as someone kind, and trustworthy. Perhaps then he could save the dwindling numbers of people actually attending his services.

The doorbell rang, jolting him out of his miserable thoughts. How to solve the issue of the dwindling numbers of his flock? How to return his faith in God? He put on a cheerful face as he opened the door, handing out candy to the children dressed in their costumes. But as soon as the door closed, his smile faded. Memories of his own son and his failures weighed heavy on him, leaving him feeling hollow inside.

He wished that he could feel worthy. That, for once, he would feel the Lord’s light shine upon him.

The doorbell rang again, and Ernst hesitated. Should he open the door? He reminded himself that Halloween was just a heathen celebration. He thought about Samhain, the ancient pagan festival from which Halloween originated, and how far removed it was from his own beliefs. It only made him feel worse.

His hand hesitated, but ultimately, he decided to let the false smile grace his lips once more. Opening the door, he found another group of costumed children.

“Hi there,” he said, a smile on his lips. “Why, aren’t you looking wonderful.” He handed out candy and complimented the children on their costumes, kneeling down to their height so he could fill their buckets and bags with candy. As he slowly rose again, he watched them leave. And then, behind the departing kids, you appeared.

How long you stood there, he could not say. Only that when he caught sight of you, it took his breath away.

Ernst's eyes trailed down your shape as he took in your appearance. You were undeniably gorgeous. But there was something unsettling about your appearance.

You were dressed as a witch.

Halloween, he had to remind himself. Even adults dress up for Halloween nowadays. It meant nothing, he told himself. Yet, your eyes drew him in, and he couldn't tear his gaze away from you. For a moment, he thought you were the real deal: a sinful creature sent to tempt him.

He knew he should shut the door, but decency begged him not to. He had a reputation to maintain, even if the numbers of his church had been dwindling, even if you probably didn’t know who he was and what he did for a living.

"Excuse me," you said softly, "can I quickly use your bathroom?"

So that was why you had lingered behind, he thought. Of course, the thoughts in his mind had just been silly notions. Just because you were pretty didn’t mean you were here to tempt him.

Ernst hesitated, wary of inviting a stranger into his home—especially one dressed as a witch—but ultimately, he nodded and stepped aside, allowing you inside. "Sure," he said, trying to lighten the mood with a weak joke, "just don't cast any spells in there."

It was clear, though, that he was actually feeling tense. You caught the underlying tone and saw his clothes and the little Christian relics that adorned his walls and lay exposed upon his table.

As you walked past him, the scent of your perfume filled the air, intoxicating and dangerous. Ernst couldn't help but inhale deeply, his body betraying him as he felt a stirring deep within. Impossible. His cock started to stir deep in the confines of his pants, and he gritted his teeth as he tried to deny what he felt. You were like a forbidden temptation, impossible to resist. Why had he allowed you into his house?

Running a hand through his hair, Ernst watched as you disappeared into the bathroom. His heart raced and his mind was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions. He was a pastor, a man of God. How could he find himself so drawn to a woman dressed as a witch, a symbol of heathenism and sin?

"God forgive me," he whispered, feeling the weight of his desires pressing down on him. You were beautiful, yes, but also much younger than him. He should not even think about it, should not want to crave touching you that way. But fuck, his cock hardened at the thought of having you in his hands. Of having a young thing like you moan and writhe on his cock. His own thoughts shamed him. The age gap only compounded his guilt, and yet it did little to quell the sinful thoughts beginning to invade his mind.

He tried to focus on anything else— the sound of the doorbell ringing in the distance, the wind rustling through the trees outside—but all he could think about was the way your eyes had locked onto his, the sultry curve of your lips, the seductive sway of your hips as you walked past him. And despite his best efforts, the image of your body pressed against his own relentlessly invaded his thoughts.

"Get a hold of yourself," he muttered, clenching his fists at his sides.

The doorbell rang and, swifter than before, he made his way to the door. This time, his smile was real. Handing out candy to the kids was a small reprieve from his unsolicited desires. But that distraction ended way too soon, and before he knew it, Ernst rested his head against the closed door, wishing silently that the bell would ring again.

There was a rustling sound behind him and he slowly turned to see how you emerged from the bathroom, your face flushed and your eyes sparkling with an intensity that made his knees weak.

"Thank you," you said, your voice soft and sultry, sending shivers down his spine.

Ernst tried to maintain his composure, to keep some semblance of coldness in his response. "You're welcome." But his voice cracked, betraying his inner turmoil.

He took a step aside, hand on the doorknob, a clear signal that he wanted you to go. But instead of leaving, you stepped closer to him, your gaze never leaving his. Your proximity was intoxicating, and he could feel the heat radiating off your body as you leaned in, your breath warm on his cheek.

"You seem... troubled," you murmured, your hand reaching up to brush against his arm.

The touch sent jolts of electricity coursing through him, and Ernst realized that he couldn't resist you any longer. His eyes widened as he took you in once more. He wished he could have denied it, but the witch’s outfit only added to the sinful desire he felt. As if the devil’s temptation beckoned him and he, once again failing, could not resist. The temptation was too great; the allure of your sinful beauty had ensnared him, breaking down his resolve.

"Damn you," he whispered, as you took his hand and guided him back into his chair, your fingers tracing lines of fire along his skin.

"Is that what you want?" you teased, a wicked gleam in your eyes.

And as you pressed yourself against him, offering your forbidden touch, Ernst couldn't help but surrender to the darkness threatening to consume him. A dangerous and haunting desire had taken hold, and he would no longer deny it. He wanted you, craved your touch. He’d be damned if he were to let you go now that you were offering yourself to him so willingly.

As your lips met, a rush of urgency surged through both of you. His hands were upon your back, guiding you close, not allowing you to move away. Not that you would want to. You enjoyed the sweet taste of his lips.

Your kisses deepened, tongues dancing together in a battle for dominance that you quickly won. With a skillful hand, you produced a length of rope from your witch's garb and began to tie Ernst's wrists to the arms of the chair. You could see the darkened eyes as he looked up at you, the question visible in them. But he did not ask why you did it. He merely offered a small smirk and allowed you to continue tying him down until he was completely at your mercy.

"Trust me," you whispered into his ear, your breath hot and heavy as you secured the knots. His heart pounded against his chest. Oh, he trusted you all right. You felt the hot and firm bulge poking your thigh as you squirmed upon his lap. His lips parted in a gasp and his cock throbbed beneath his pants. He couldn't deny the thrill that coursed through him at being so vulnerable to you.

Your hands roamed over his body, teasing and tantalizing, eliciting gasps and shudders from the man beneath you. He was exceptionally attractive when he moaned, and you slowly unbuttoned his blouse, revealing the toned flesh beneath, marred with the marks of his self-inflicted penance. Each button undone was like the peeling away of layers of his faith, leaving him exposed and raw.

"Such devotion," you murmured, your fingers trailing down his chest before dipping lower, unzipping his pants with deliberate slowness. His cock strained against the fabric, eager to be free, dripping the first droplets of seed and wasting it on the fabric of his waistband. When your hand finally wrapped around it, cupping his balls, he couldn't help but moan.

"Ah... yes," he breathed, his eyes clouded with lust. You straddled him, skirts bunched up high as you positioned yourself above his throbbing member, the heat of your core already causing him to shiver with anticipation.

"Ready?" you asked, a wicked smile playing across your lips. He could only nod, lost in the spell you'd cast upon him. And then, with a slow, deliberate motion, you lowered yourself onto him, enveloping him in your tight, wet heat. He slid in with ease, your juices lubricating his hardened, pulsing shaft.

"God..." he groaned, the pleasure nearly overwhelming him. The chair creaked beneath you both as you began to move, rocking your hips back and forth, grinding against him. He strained against the ropes, desperate for more of your touch, more intimacy, but you held him firmly in place.

Your hips moved expertly, creating a salacious motion that had your cunt milking his cock with each move. He groaned, teeth clenched, while his hands formed into fists. He wished he could grab you, hold you. It felt so good. So terribly good. How could this not be compared to heaven?

He desperately wanted to hold you and guide your hips with his hands. But he couldn’t. And didn’t that helplessness, that powerlessness, make it all the more delicious?

You could tell he was enjoying the power that you held over him and decided to tease him some more. Bringing your arms around him in a light embrace, you made sure to roll your hips smoothly, taking him in even deeper, hitting that delicious spot deep inside of you that made you moan and writhe on his lap.

It worked. Ernst threw his head back, eyes closed.

Then, an unpleasant mutter tumbled from his lips. “I see you now, God.”

Your hips moved against his frantically, breasts brushing against his chest while you moved a hand to grasp his cheek. He easily complied when you guided his head to look at you and opened his eyes again. The silent demand was clear. His lust-blown pupils met yours.

"Remember," you panted between thrusts, "it isn't God bringing you closer…It is me.”

Your words stoked the fire within him, and he watched as your eyes rolled back in ecstasy, your body convulsing with an orgasm that rocked you to your core.

"Please..." he begged, his own climax building, threatening to overtake him. Your walls were deliciously clamping down on his cock, begging him for his cum. His balls tightened, ready to blow his load deep inside. But just as he was about to come, you lifted yourself off of his lap, and his sperm shot forth, streaking across the skirt of your witch's dress. The sight was sinful and mesmerizing all at once.

"You've been a naughty pastor," you teased, leaning over him to untie the ropes. His chest heaved as he tried to catch his breath, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts. Your eyes darted down to see his pulsing cock. His shaft glistened with juices. Your juices. You licked your lips at the sight and watched till the last ropes of cum, till his sack had emptied and his twitching member was slowly becoming limp.

With a gentle hand, you untied the ropes that had held him bound. Then you quickly righted your skirt, tucking yourself back into decency while Ernst did the same. The air between you was thick with lingering desire and unspoken questions.

"Wh-what have I done?" Ernst's voice trembled as he buttoned his shirt, avoiding your gaze. "As a pastor, I shouldn't have...I've lost my way. I don’t even know who you are."

You tilted your head, watching him grapple with his thoughts. For a moment it felt like you lived in some sort of twisted fairy tale, where the Prince danced with Cinderella and realized that he never even asked her name. Was Ernst willing to know more about you? It felt that way.

His hands shook as he adjusted his collar, trying to regain composure. "Ernst," you said softly, reaching out to touch his arm. He flinched but didn't pull away.

"Your faith isn't gone, just...misguided." Your words hung in the air, heavy with truth.

"Maybe," he whispered, glancing up at you. His eyes were filled with longing and confusion. The doorbell rang, but at that moment, he leaned closer, his chapped lips parting, seeking solace in another kiss.

Your hand blocked his movement, his lips brushing gently past your fingertips instead. A look of confusion was upon his face when he looked up to see you smile. You stepped away from him, uncaring about the traces of cum visibly smeared upon your skirt. And then you opened the door for the eager trick-or-treaters outside. Their laughter and excitement were a stark contrast to the charged atmosphere behind you.

Ernst followed you to the door, his mind racing. Was this encounter a test? A punishment for his sins? Or perhaps a chance for redemption?

But then he saw your bright smile as you handed candy to the kids and felt a warmth blossom inside his chest. No, he thought determinedly. What he had done had been right. You had been right for him. The right medicine. The woman he’d been waiting for. A blessing turned into flesh.

“We’re running out,” he heard you say, and with a quick nod, turned around to fetch a new bag of sweets that he had lying on the table in the kitchen. He grabbed it, thinking hard about what he wanted to do next. His somber evening had lit up entirely. He could still feel the rope as it seared into his skin, not like fire but like the touch of a lover. To think of how he had enjoyed being at your mercy. He desperately hoped you would do it again to him. With the bag in his hands and a smile on his face, he returned to the door to find the candy bowl empty. Just like the doorstep. His smile fell.

Looking around, calling out for you, he had to conclude that you were gone. Like a phantom, leaving only the residue of your touch on his skin and the echo of your voice in his ears. His eyes traced the street filled with kids trick-and-treating, their laughter echoing through the night. A gentle twitch of his softening cock reminded him that you had definitely not been a dream. The feel of his empty balls and the slight buzz of the afterglow only confirmed that you had truly been there, not too long ago.

"Please," he whispered into the void left by your absence, "come back to me."

He hoped you would hear his plea. And perhaps, somewhere in the darkness of the night, a young witch sat on the porch of a house and heard that silent plea. And it made her smile, just like him, eager for more.

~ Fin ~

AN: Liked my work? :) ♡ Support me on Ko-Fi ♡ Love you all

#ernst toller x reader #Ethan hawke smut #ethan hawke fanfiction #Ernst Toller #First Reformed Fanfiction #Reader Insert #Halloween prompt fills #Reader is a witch

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chonker-chan · 3 months

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Marazhai & Ulfar interactions my beloved

and also these are possible ending slides you can get depending on choices:

After burying his brothers, Ulfar Everlost looked inward upon his heart and found it broken and bleeding. Loyalty to the Allfather, the pride of a Wolf, brotherly love, and the thrill of battle — he laid it all upon the pyre, until hollow anger was all that remained in his soul. From that moment on, his path is lost in darkness. But there is an eerie legend in the Expanse that speaks of a monstrous titan rejected by death — a deliverer of curses that come to be. Numbed by sorrow, he slays both the pious and the corrupt, though more often the corrupt, as he has chosen to dwell upon the worlds of the Heathen Stars, where devotion to the Emperor is rare indeed.

It is said that the xenos Marazhai travelled to these dark sectors to hunt down and exterminate the beast more than once, but each time he limped back in a sorry state. He was proud of his experience, however, and believed that one day he would succeed

#rogue trader #warhammer 40k rogue trader #ulfar #marazhai #I just think they're neat #poor Ulfar getting bullied by his furry bros because of our silly choices

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darkearthsuggestions · 4 months

Text

Thank you for the kind words, and apologies for the delay in answer-- Each result can be found below! Thought it would be nice for any others with the same question to find this answer.

The Shadow

Something walks behind you, nipping at your heels. You know the shape it takes, though you cannot see it. You think you know. Its edges look like yours, but clean and concise, close-cut lines articulated into iridescent air. Turn around and catch it-- and it slides away. Your shadow shines and you are blinded. You half-hear it whispering words that stick to your skin like mist and evaporate under your gaze, but they shake you. Even their echoes are true. It knows you. It wears your skin. It is more you than you are. Are you the chaser? Are you the shadow? Which, really, were you rather be? Walk backwards if you must. You must keep looking back.

The Moth

What a lovely light-- what a shining thing, just outside your reach. But you were given legs to walk, so really, you are blameless. Adoration, exultation, fluttering bark-winged joy. Never mind the dark beyond. Never mind the aching wings. Never mind the part of you that curls inside the cocoon, husked and rotting in its acid desire-- why should you always be the moth, and never the flame? Where is your lantern? Where is your light? But you were not made for that. You love to love. Never mind. Never mind.

The Hidden Rot

Something in you is wrong. Deep and curling. You know it will show itself one day, a slick fuzz slinking across your tongue, blackened, pitted teeth. There is no sign of it now, of course, but it is there. It eats away your depths. Has it hollowed you already-- is that why you feel so shallow, sometimes, so sick? You can see it in their eyes when they smell it. Everyone knows. Your curse does not hurt, and you wish it did, because maybe then you would know where it was. Until then it is everywhere. You cannot tell anyone, but you cannot step too close, lest it spread. You cannot forget the rot.

The Waxing Moon

Of hunger. Of envy. Your curse pricks along your skin, calls your nerves to attention, electric soldiers glaring in the moonlight. You know what you want. You can taste it. You have imagined a hundred times what it might be like for those hungers to be filled. But you know what you would have to become-- what you have secretly always been, under the tight-stretch gauze of your sun-time skin. It may have been a wound that made you, but the tooth left behind looked strangely like your own. Swallow your hunger tonight. Maybe all you need to change is ache.

The Turning Heel

Bracken crushed beneath your foot, waving the spiderwebs away-- a new path to leave for others to follow. How bold you are. And then the heathen-faced oak, again. And then the scum-scoured pool. Another try at breaking ground-- and the oak grins with its leaves. Your feet turn so slowly that you cannot notice, but you are back on that same path again. Your curse lays in cycles and cycles and cycles again. You will always end up here. You can never stop walking.

Dessication

Sandal feet in sliding sand, the light's hollow teeth grazing your skin. Others join you, but they flush and sweat and swim through it all, strange, foreign fish under this shared glare of sun. They feel so strongly. They weep, and you lick your lips, the chapped edges smarting under your tongue. You do not know the last time you felt like that. When they tell you of the sunset, you wonder what oils have set their canvas aflame-- all you see is another cooling night. Your curse is a shallow life. A dry mouth. Bloodless cheeks. What are you missing? What do they know? Where do they find all this water-- and why can’t you ask them to share?

Dispersal

You had a home once. You've seen it in the broken glass, heard laughter on the wind and remembered the way it used to move you. It's not yours anymore. You couldn't stay. But there must be another one along this road-- there must be a place where your skin could grow soft again, where you will be tumbled and ruffled and fall gasping in the joy. You know how it would feel, how your chest would fill like a glass of wine, heady and reeling with ease. You have walked with others before, but it wasn’t like that. It would help if you knew where you were. It would help if you knew what to do. It would help if you had the words to fill your ragged howls-- a pack to teach you the tune.

Warren's Wend

Over and out and down and out and in-- the warren winds and writhes and wends another net into the earth, another untraceable shape of your own clawing need. You must always find another tunnel. Another mouthful of dirt to stain your tongue. And when you think that you are done, the smell of smoke to set you off again. You need to keep digging-- because something is chasing you. You need to keep digging-- because when you dig, you do not think. And down and out and on itself, weaving the turgid air. The surface is never nearer. The dogs are always close-- they could not turn back if they tried. You are the rabbit. You are the snare. You dig.

The Sculptor's Skin

You've always been soft. Bruise easily- wear down quick when cold eyes grate against you. This is your curse. Every finger that brushes your skin, every breath, to help or to harm, lingers there. You wear them. You change. You are clay under the sculptors’ hands and you cannot help but let yourself be shaped. With every thumb that leaves its spiral behind, you feel yourself move farther from what you used to be. It's hard to remember what that was. One day you will be something else altogether, pinched and molded and mended until you are nothing true. Barely even human. And then you will change again.

The Lantern

You hold it up so high that your arms ache. You strain to hear above the winds for the calling of your name, but all it carries is a low and painful moan. This is your light. One day people will come to it, like you have seen so often, those swinging lamp smiles and rolling laughs. You know that a spirit with lanterns in its eyes cannot help but be adored. It hurts to hold it for so long-- the long wick nips at your palms-- but you know that this is in you. You are good. You have the heart of a king. You have to be something But it must look easy, or they will not come-- those who are seen always look so easy. Your arms tremble. You raise the lantern higher.

The Dream

You know that there is more than this. Haven't you seen it before, don't you remember? Last night, or the one before-- the lapis lazuli and how it crumbled in your palms, the way it turned to beetle wings and bluegrass fields, and how the sun burbled to the ground. Your breath is shallower with your eyes open. Even the light is thin. Your curse is the vivid dream, a world that is always richer than this. You cannot take anyone there. It is not real to them. But to you, walker of waking-dream, you know better. And what is here, for them, is so little. It will never be the dream. There is always another world-- and even in this shallow echo, you can hear it sing. What is another day awake, when asleep, you can have the sky? Lose yourself in the certainty of story, song, and sleep. Why bother with waking at all?

Poor Man's Prophecy

How is a prophet meant to live? When you can see the threads of fate and watch as they fall into folly's knot. You can see the mistakes a year away. You know best how to weave them. When it comes time for your own hands to work, you know they are naturally clumsy-- you know they ache; you know why; you know what would make them whole. You know why you choose to keep weaving. You know why you know why you know. No one can help you because you already know-- what can they say that a prophet has not already weighed? What new stones can they turn when you spend your nights watching the butterfly's wings? Some things do not have easy answers. You know this too. And yet still-- you hurt. You will always hurt. You know.

#hope you enjoy!

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