#kneeling motif

[raayllum]

We are, all of us, stardust, held together by love for an instant.

[imminent-danger-came]

(1x00 A Hero is Born)

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(1x09 Macaque)

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(1x10 The End is Here!)

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(2x05 Minor Scale)

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(2x10 This is the End!)

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(3x09 The King, the Prince, and the Shadow)

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(3x11 Embrace Your Destiny)

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(4x07 Pitiful Creatures)

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(4x08 The Brotherhood)

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(4x10 The Jade Emperor)

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(4x11 A Lifetime of Mistakes)

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(4x13 Rip and Tear) (He's little but he's kneeling in both)

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MK Kneeling Motif

[shallowseeker]

What about the silver platters? They're in your Biggerson's meta and your Lebanon meta. When Dean comes into the diner, there are two empty platters, and he fights Cas with them in Lebanon.

Oooo. MY BLOODY VALENTINE:

And LEBANON:

It's in the shot when Dean kneels in the ruins of it, too.

I mean, what immediately comes to mind is something like "silver spoon," and "served on a silver platter," something to do with unearned class, but that's not quite right here. I'll think about it.

[aedearly]

✎ . . . 𝑪𝑨𝑳𝑳 𝑴𝑬 𝑨 𝑺𝑰𝑵𝑵𝑬𝑹.

₊˚⊹ a collection of loose poem verses, quotes or lyrics from various books and chansons. most were written originally in portuguese or french, and were translated to english by me. some are extracted from personal poems, as well! they all have some type of religious reference/motif. writing/roleplaying prompts. from fluff to angst and suggestive! feel free to edit as you see fit.

❝ i never felt more alive than when you called me your angel. ❞ ❝ saints above help me… don’t look at me like that. ❞ ❝ admit it, you’d have taken a bite out of eden, too. ❞ ❝ what are you waiting for? pray. ❞ ❝ confess. repent. repeat. ❞ ❝ for you? i will be any believer you want me to be. ❞ ❝ run away with me, where no gods can find us. ❞ ❝ i begged for a miracle. instead, i got you. ❞ ❝ you smell like the devil. ❞ ❝ where is your faith now? ❞ ❝ call me a sinner. ❞ ❝ the way you call my name sounds like heresy. ❞ ❝ in your gaze, i find my prayers answered. ❞ ❝ your lips are scriptures i long to memorise. ❞ ❝ even silence feels sanctified like this. ❞ ❝ when you embraced me, i felt like i was cradled by divinity. ❞ ❝ i do not wish for the stars to hear us now. ❞ ❝ meet me at our shared altar, where our ghosts can dance. ❞ ❝ kiss my hand. make me feel holy. ❞ ❝ your love feels like a fallen angel’s curse. ❞ ❝ please, can’t you be my sanctuary tonight? ❞ ❝ should i kneel and beg you to look at me again? as if you’re a saint? ❞ ❝ worship does not come cheap. ❞ ❝ must i pay for my sins? cry for forgiveness? ❞ ❝ hate me, blame me, crucify me; just please don’t walk away. ❞ ❝ i do not know how else to love you if not like a sinner. ❞ ❝ you were my redemption; now you are my ruin. ❞ ❝ the weight of your absence is my penance to bear. ❞ ❝ i built cathedrals of dreams, and you razed them to dust. ❞ ❝ you’re a hymn that haunts my mind at midnight. ❞ ❝ you left me bleeding for you, devoted—abandoned. ❞ ❝ i prayed to forget you, but even the heavens refused. ❞ ❝ do not tempt me with your promises. ❞ ❝ hellfire has nothing to your touch. ❞

[castieltrash1]

hiii since you're taking got requests and i saw sandor is one of your faves: there's this post that's like "submissive like a guard dog is submissive" (i hope this makes sense even if you don't know what i'm talking about) and it always makes me think of him bc he's. you know. the hound. so what i'm saying is anything sandor-related with a dom reader would be very appreciated since i've never really seen anyone write him like this before :] if that's not your thing, that's totally fine though !

oh dw anon u came to the right place <3

sandor clegane x gn!reader; smut, dom/sub dynamics, dog motif, the hound is ur beaten and battered guard dog <3 mentions of violence, strong language, etc.

it doesn’t matter how you meet. maybe he serves your family. maybe he’s kidnapped you. maybe you’re just some lowborn whore whose face he pushes into the mattress to avoid looking at when he’s fucking out his anger. at some point, regardless of the roots of your relationship, the hound begins to heel. it’s not always obvious -- especially if you’re not some little lady/lord he’d be beheaded for lifting a finger to -- but it’s there. he’s already spent most of his life like this, and being with you is no different. you can’t teach an old dog new tricks.

once he (somewhat) lets you in, the dynamic shifts. you’re not just his liege, his captive, the prettiest face at littlefinger’s silk street brothel -- you’re his. and that makes him yours, he thinks. it means taking care of you, giving you as much comfort and safety that he can offer in this hellish life. it’s the least you deserve for picking him, since now he’ll never let you leave. you’ve resigned yourself to a cruel, cold, and crass beast; who cares if he has to behead a man or two to keep you fed or hold an entire inn hostage just so you can sleep on a featherbed for the night? he’ll never say please or thank you, but he’ll always stand in front of you. he’ll always lean against the door in case someone tries to break in.

he’s not gentle. he’ll growl when you tug his hair, a makeshift collar threaded between your fingers, urging him between your legs or bringing him back up to your mouth. he’ll bark about breaking you in, splitting you in half, vulgar words foaming at his mouth the longer it goes on. and when you lock eyes with him, he’ll always crumble under the weight of your gaze, lowering his head in some twisted form of obedience. he’ll eat out of your palm and you’ll know there are mutts in volantis better fed than him.

“sandor?”

you could hear the resulting sigh from a mile away, the sound of his armor clanking as he heeds your call. when your eyes lock on his figure, he rolls his shoulders back, masking the way he bows his head as if it were nothing more than loosening a crick in his neck. it’s hard to tell when he’s blushing, but you swear there’s a hint of flush blooming down his neck. you think if you asked him to kneel right now, he might even do it.

“i’m hungry,” you say instead, making your way toward him with a small, knowing smile. “let’s go eat.”

+ you’d be better off never mentioning it, but the similarities between sandor and your average dog aren’t too far off. he sleeps like one, always either curled into a ball or sprawled halfway out of bed; huffing and kicking with night terrors. he slurps out of bowls and licks his plates clean. he’s good at sniffing out enemies, even better at finding their scent on you, teeth bared as he asks where you’ve been and who with. he loves being pet and, if you catch him in a good mood, he'll sometimes nuzzle against your hand. and when he’s got you on all fours, clawing at the sheets or floor while you scream his name, it’s not hard to see he's always been more animal than man.

game of thrones weekend (reqs open!)

[magnetothemagnificent]

Perpetually pissed off that when people say "religious imagery" in regards to art and media they're just saying "Christian imagery".

Because stained glass, kneeling with your hands clasped, crosses, an old man in a beard in the sky...... that's all *Christian imagery*.

And it leads to like....an environment where non-Christian art with no Christian undertones gets mislabeled as Christian because they associate a nursing mother or a spire or a choir singing in operatic tones as Christian. It also leads to religious art that isn't Christian not being recognized as religious and its meaningful symbols and motifs unappreciated.

When I and other Jews make art involving fire, water, and trees- that's religious imagery. But this cultural Christian sphere doesn't recognize as such because they think religious = Christian.

[littlebird95]

I have always perceived the act of kneeling in the scene where Tav undergoes the transformation into a spawn not merely as an act of submission, but as a kind of oath-taking ceremony. In D&D lore, vampires possess a lawful evil alignment, which is inseparable from strict principles of hierarchy. Astarion calls Tav his consort, emphasizing not only his power and status but also Tav's crucial role in his plans. This also symbolizes their union within the framework of vampiric hierarchy and the new life that will begin after Tav's transformation.

Consort is a title traditionally used to refer to the spouse of a monarch. In the context of a royal family, a consort does not hold the rights of a ruler but serves as an important figure in public and state affairs.

It is particularly noteworthy that it is right after the night of the turning that Astarion first calls Tav his consort, which I personally cannot see as mere coincidence unless he intentionally imbued the event with ritualistic meaning. Such wording is undoubtedly steeped in an aura of regal solemnity, which is especially remarkable for Astarion, given his yearning for grandeur and liberation from his former subordinate position.

When Tav knelt before Astarion, I was reminded of the painting «The Coronation of Napoleon» by the French artist Jacques-Louis David. The painting depicts the moment when Napoleon Bonaparte crowns his wife Josephine during the ceremony held in 1804 at Notre-Dame de Paris. Napoleon stands on an elevated platform in his imperial attire, including a luxurious cloak trimmed with ermine, as he places the crown on Josephine's head himself.

Meanwhile, in the developer's note to the animation tag for this scene in the game, it says: «Tav kneels before Astarion. Astarion stands proud before the Player. He is powerful. He is free.»

I have no doubt that Astarion was indeed imbuing this moment with a special ritualistic meaning. He wants Tav to acknowledge his supremacy by kneeling before him, as if it were an oath-taking ceremony. This is not just an act of dominance but a kind of ritual with profound cultural and historical undertones.

Undoubtedly, this scene is filled with clear eroticism, which perfectly aligns with Astarion's love for decadence and theatrics. I find this quite amusing, and I'm sure Astarion also enjoyed playing with this subtext, giving the moment a particular sexual tension and sharpness. All of this comes together in a quirky pattern, creating an exceptionally rich scene where cultural and erotic motifs intertwine.

Kneeling is a gesture that carries a variety of meanings depending on the cultural, historical, and social context. It is commonly associated with expressions of respect, submission, devotion, or acknowledgment. In a religious context, kneeling symbolizes reverence before a higher power, humility, or repentance. For example, in Christianity, people kneel before an altar or during prayer. In some religions, the gesture signifies a plea for help, mercy, or forgiveness. In a monarchical context, kneeling has been used as part of rituals such as knighting ceremonies or being admitted into the circle of royal privileges. In the feudal context of the Middle Ages, vassals knelt before their liege lord as a symbol of loyalty and submission. This act was often accompanied by kissing the hand or a symbol of authority (such as a sword or crown). In a romantic context, kneeling is a gesture symbolizing a marriage proposal, as well as an expression of respect, admiration, and love.

For myself, I highlight the following:

Acknowledgment of sovereignty — kneeling before a monarch symbolizes submission to the authority of the crown and recognition of its legitimacy.

Acceptance into the circle of royal privileges — in this context, the act can be interpreted as a ritual of initiation, where kneeling marks entry into an exclusive circle, granting access to the advantages and status associated with monarchy.

Astarion perceives himself and Tav as something superior to all other beings, stemming from the fact that Tav becomes a vampire. He believes that the transformation of Tav into a vampire grants them the opportunity to become "something more," elevating them to a new level. This transformation not only makes Tav a vampire but also symbolizes their entry into a special, elite category of beings who possess power and authority beyond the reach of ordinary mortals or other creatures. For Astarion, as a vampire, this means that Tav can now share in his greatness.

Astarion: You are stronger now. Better. You will thank me one day, I am sure. Astarion: You will be stronger, swifter, sharper, but you won't be different. You were already perfect before. It's hard to improve.

An expression of respect and devotion — such a gesture underscores reverence for the monarch as a divine or political symbol.

Kneeling as an act of humiliation:

In Astarion's thoughts, one can discern that he views Tav’s decision to stay with him and become his spawn as something indicative of degradation, perhaps even moral decline.

When Tav agrees to become Astarion’s spawn, it can be interpreted as a conscious act of self-sacrifice, where they relinquish equality in the relationship and willingly submit to him. This step symbolizes the rejection of personal autonomy and the acceptance of absolute dependence. Tav entrusts their life entirely into his hands. Astarion: You have given me everything. Thank you. Astarion likely perceives such a decision as a form of "degradation," believing that a normal person, from his perspective, would not make such a choice. He tries to understand why Tav would do this and concludes that Tav derives a certain satisfaction from such a dynamic, perhaps even having an inclination toward it. Narrator: But perhaps you wish to degrade yourself. And he knows it.

This explains his surprise when Tav, contrary to his expectations, asks for tenderness. It’s simply not what he anticipates. His reaction reveals confusion and forces him to reassess Tav’s motives, as such a request goes beyond the scenario he had envisioned.

Astarion: So, tell me what you desire. What can I do for my dearest pet? Player: I want you. I want your body. Astarion: You've earned it. But don't you want more - don't you want eternity? One more bite is all it would take. As for Welch's remark that Astarion "won’t respect you," this narrative only applies to the phrase "I want your body," which itself is not required in the game. This line adds an interpretative layer but is not central to all the possible interactions between Tav and Ascended Astarion.

Baudelaire Welch: He's literally looking down on you because you are someone in that situation who believes you deserve sex as a reward. He will give it to you, but he won't respect you.

In essence, the entire narrative about the sexualization parallels the scene with Araj in Act 2, where the player asks for sex as a reward for defending Astarion before Araj or helping with Yurgir's murder. And although Welch desperately tried to impose this motif in the Ascended route, limiting roleplay, it is not the only one, and far from the most obvious. There are other reasons to help Astarion with the ritual, and even he is aware of them:

Astarion: Of course I understand love. All too well. The gravest crimes committed in this world are committed for love. A hunger crueller than bloodlust.

Many also overlook that Tav's consent to become his spawn is seen by Astarion as an expression of exceptional trust and devotion. His gratitude the following morning confirms this: he sincerely expresses appreciation for the trust shown in the very first phrase he addresses to Tav. Astarion: You are so beautiful... And you will be beautiful forever. Thank you for trusting me. Moreover, trust becomes the leitmotif of his dialogues afterwards, especially when their relationship with Tav is questioned or criticized by their companions. Each time, he emphasizes that their relationship is built on this foundation:

Karlach: You know, Astarion, I'm not sure I can trust you anymore. You're… different. A bit scary, to be honest. Astarion: I have one person who trusts me completely. That's enough for me. Lae'zel: You have shared your new power with your lover, Astarion. I'm surprised - I expected you to turn your back once you got what you wanted. Astarion: Quite the opposite - I need someone I can trust. And now I know they'll never betray me.

Unfortunately, in the kiss scenes of Patch 6, the original context was lost, and the focus shifted to themes of fear and humiliation that were not present in the original dynamic with Ascended Astarion. Considering that the kiss scenes were based on the scene of Tav’s transformation into a spawn, which is almost obvious, their emotional tone was distorted. For example, initially, Tav knelt entirely of their own free will, which emphasized the intentional and voluntary nature of their decision. In the kiss scenes, on the contrary, Tav is shown kneeling out of fear, the source of which remains unclear. Throughout the game, it is never shown what consequences Tav could fear for refusing to do so. In the transformation scene, Tav can refuse and not face any frightening consequences.

It also seems illogical when Tav is frightened when Astarion grabs them by the throat. This contradicts the transformation scene, where Tav themself initiated it, asking Astarion to hurt them and even tilting their head back, exposing their neck.

Astarion: It will only hurt a bit, the pleasure will be far greater than the pain. Player: Oh, come on. Let it hurt.

In the kiss scenes, however, this dynamic, based on mutual consent, was changed to an act of violence. This further exacerbates the inconsistency, especially considering that in the original script of this scene, it was noted that both Tav and Astarion derive pleasure from what is happening.

In dialogues, Ascended Astarion also demonstrated a willingness to be tender with Tav when Tav expressed it through words. He was not solely focused on rough dominance, as was attempted to be imposed in Patch 6. This change is likely an attempt by Larian to please the audience who, without going through the Ascended route and without understanding its nuances, actively promotes the narrative of the collective majority about the cycle of abuse.

Yes, the facial expressions in the kiss animations were changed due to fan requests for the Ascended route, but the aftertaste and consequences of these changes remain.

Some players still argue that facial expressions in role-playing games should be imposed "for the sake of the great narrative," while others use game conventions, such as cyclicality of animations, to demand the return of scared expressions. However, bringing back this dynamic would undermine the story and the character that fans of Ascended Astarion have known and loved for six months after the game's release.

In my opinion, to expand the role-playing experience, it would be much more useful not to return the scared expressions as an option, but to add the possibility for the lord to use more standard kisses, similar to those in Patch 5.

It is unclear why many are convinced that the vampire lord is incapable of tender kisses with Tav when his love scene demonstrated just this tenderness, and the moment with the kiss on the hand is one of the most refined and delicate romantic episodes. In particular, the kiss on the hand, which happens after the "be gentle" option is chosen, not only emphasizes Astarion's attention to Tav's desires and his willingness to listen, but also contradicts the notion of his exclusively dominant and cold nature.

If Astarion is capable of expressing such tenderness in intimacy, why is it excluded that the same softness could be maintained in his kisses?

The kiss in Patch 6 would only make sense if, upon choosing the "be gentle… if you can" option, Astarion ignored Tav's request, and his actions were no different from those in the "let it hurt" option.

I would also like to draw attention to the sharp contrast in Tav's facial expressions in the bite scenes, written by different writers. In Act 1, when Astarion was written only by Stephen Rooney, Tav's facial expression shows ecstasy, and this same expression is repeated in the lord's love scene, which, according to Welch, they did not write.

However, in the transformation scene, which, as Welch confirms, was written with their involvement, Tav's facial expression is noticeably different.

It’s not fear, like in the kisses from Patch 6, but the expression conveys a "problematic/kinky" mood — a term that Welch themselves used to describe this scene. This looks particularly strange in the dialogue where Tav explicitly asks to be hurt:

Astarion: Shall we have one last night together before you join me in immortality? One for the road, so to speak. Player: We shall not. I just need you to bite me. Astarion: Impatient are we? Well who am I to deny you?

This suggests that Welch’s views on "kinks" are at least debatable, and this influences how they are portrayed in the game. For example, Welch sees the transformation into a spawn as an "irreversible sex-pact/kink/form of gratification," but Tav's reaction in this scene is somewhat more uneasy than in previous episodes involving similar actions.

Both scenes are consensual, but they have a different tone simply because one of the writers condemned the player for "kinks," while the other did not.

In the cinematic context for the transformation scene, the following was stated: "You are naked and vulnerable before him." This feeling, it seems to me, is what the animators tried to convey and embody, capturing the intimacy of the moment. However, with the release of Patch 6, this message became distorted, turning into something entirely different — crude and devoid of the original subtle undertones.

In this context, I believe that the kisses from Patch 7 appear much more consistent compared to the facial expressions in Patch 6.

Especially when considering the following points:

Astarion grabs Tav by the neck solely at the player's initiative, and the dialogue clearly implies that Tav wants this.

Tav has previously reacted with obvious pleasure to similar actions by Astarion in other scenes.

I genuinely do not understand why Baudelaire Welch's contribution should be considered more significant, given that they joined the project during the later stages of the game's development. Especially when you consider that the character was originally created by another writer, who laid the foundation for his personality, story, and key traits. Prioritizing late additions that distort the original concept seems unfair and disrespectful to Astarion's creator and his vision.

At this point, I would like there to be an option in the game to kiss Astarion's hand. A hand kiss is also a symbolic gesture that conveys respect, devotion, submission, and acknowledgment of power or authority. I find this incredibly romantic, and I truly miss it. It would further emphasize the symbolism of this route.

[fluffs-n-stuffs]

MOLD HOW DID YOU KNOW. HOW DID YOU KNOWHSDUFSNDS 😳🫵

Gotta get festive~ ❄✨

[azrielbrainrot]

The Meaning of Devotion

Pairing: God!Eris x F!Reader

Kinktober 2024: Body Worship

Description: Your husband shows you just how much he loves you.

Warnings: Smut, lots of kissing and heavy touching all over, oral sex, a bit of exhibitionism

Word Count: ~1,3k

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Notes: I have another story I'm working on with God!Eris in my Folk Tales series (I promise I'm still writing them) so this could be seen as a sequel when they're already together even though the story isn't out yet. Hope you enjoy!

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

It's hard for you to wrap your head around how a simple, thoughtless comment had led you here. You had been happily sitting on your husband's lap just a few moments ago, listening to his warm, deep voice as he told you about one of his brothers' weddings, describing how the temples started adding motifs commemorating his wife as well, when you make the mistake of musing aloud how you wish you could have had that.

The minute his body tenses under yours you try to correct your mistake, reassuring him that you didn't need titles or statues, reminding him that, even after becoming immortal, you were still human, and there was no reason for others to treat you as a God. He wasn't listening to you at all it seems because in the blink of an eye you had been transported to what you soon recognize as one of his temples.

You had seen more than a few of the temples humans had built for him in the time you had been married, but this had to be one of the most luxurious ones by far. There was a giant statue at the top, overlooking the entire space, and you didn't want to linger on it too long but you were certain it had to be made of solid gold. Every corner was meticulously decorated in beautiful paintings, sculptures and even tapestries.

In fact, you were sitting on one right now. The beautifully crafted tapestry had been snatched from its place by the wall upon your arrival and stretched over the cold stone altar by Eris himself. Seeing how carefully he had smoothed it over the surface, it shouldn't have come as such a big surprise when he lifted you up and sat you over it, or maybe it should have, this had to be somewhat sacrilegious, even if it all belonged to him.

“Eris,” you call out to him, almost forgetting your next words when he smiles at you and pecks your lips at the sound of his name. “What are you doing?”

“I'm showing the priests that you are not just a human.”

He lays you down carefully, grabbing the back of your head so it doesn't collide with the covered stone. Not that he had ever been anything but gentle with you, but he was handling you as if one simple wrong move would break you now.

“The priests?”

Nodding, he kneels and grabs your foot, taking off your shoes one at a time. “Some humans are chosen to carry on the word of the Gods.”

“I know that but,” you start, breath hitching when his warm hand finds your knee, moving upwards, “what do you mean by showing them?”

“They have dreams of my orders or moments I allow them to see.”

His words make his intentions perfectly clear in your mind, and if they hadn't, his words certainly would as he started lifting your dress up towards your waist, baring your lower half to his enchanting eyes.

“Eris-”

“And tonight they will dream of their God's beautiful wife.”

He kisses you before you have a chance to say anything else, strong hands holding onto your waist, warm tongue coaxing yours, making you forget where you were for a moment. When he pulls away, looking down at you with so much love and adoration, you can't help but melt into him, grabbing his cheeks and pulling him down to your lips once again.

Mortal society no longer had any hold over your life and it was time you stopped acting like you were still human, if your husband wanted to fuck you in his temple and show his people that they should be singing your name next to his, then why would you ever think to stop him.

This was the only confirmation Eris needed, a knowing smile playing at his lips as his hands continued on their earlier path, slowly lifting your dress up and up, until he had to break the kiss to completely pull it off over your head. You expected him to resume the kiss, but instead he dropped a chaste kiss on your lips before kneeling, spreading your legs apart, and gazing at your naked body as if you were the Goddess in the room.

“There will be statues across every temple, created by the most skilled artisans, made of marble and gold,” he says, leaning and dropping a kiss to your bent knee, “but none will ever come close to your beauty, my love.”

Eris grabs your wrist next, kissing the back of your hand and continuing trailing a path up your wrist, up your arm until he reaches your shoulder. His hands were glued to your body, caressing every stretch of skin he came in contact with reverently as he moved over you and repeated the same action up your other arm.

“Eris,” you breathe out, not sure what you were even asking for.

He let out a hum and kissed your neck, lingering long enough to leave a mark on your skin, possessive as always. Your hand finds the back of his neck when he keeps leaving open mouthed kisses trailing down to your sternum, palming at one of your breasts as his mouth finds the other, softly licking and sucking your nipple while his thumb mimicked the same action on the other side.

Harsh breaths start turning into moans, sweet sounds of pleasure coming from deep in your chest at the attention your God is giving you. You could never call him anything but an attentive lover, but everything felt different in that moment - he truly was intent on showing you and the priest just how much he loved you.

Even though you were the one laying down, completely naked for all to see while he stood over you fully clothed, you didn't feel like you were relinquishing control even for a bit, not when he was worshiping you with every breath he took.

You were just about to start fully immersing yourself in the pleasure when he moved away from your chest, prompting a small whimper from you, and a “patience, my love” from him.

That wasn't what shut you up though, it the fact that his path led downward, where you truly needed him. If you were in a different, more sober state of mind, you would have noticed the way you were dripping on that ostentatious tapestry, possibly even would feel a bit embarrassed at the fact, but he had been kissing every inch of your skin for quite a while, and your sanity had abandoned you along the way.

His hands massage your thighs as he lays down, carefully positioning each of your legs over his shoulder before delicately pulling your folds apart so he could fully bare you to him, letting out an obscenely hungry moan at the sight.

Expecting him to finally give you what you craved for, you can't help the whine of his name from coming out when he kisses your thighs instead, meticulously going over the entire area, not wanting to leave even a bit of skin untouched. By the time his mouth hovers over your cunt once again, you were already melting into a pool of desire, seriously contemplating on flipping him over and just riding his face.

“Now,” he calls for your attention, kissing your lower tummy softly, “I just need you to lay back and keep calling out my name.” He smirks when your breath hitches, dropping an otherwise chaste kiss right on your clit. “Show them what a real prayer looks like.”

You obey his command as soon his tongue licks a broad stripe up your cunt stopping at the top and sucking your clit into his mouth, his name falling from your lips like it would bring you salvation, and you don't stop as he keeps going, letting him and the priests know just how good he's making you feel, your prayers echoing around the temple.

[r0tting-rat]

DCA PROMPTOBER 2024

Skipped day 3 because I'm weak. Also omg I did NOT expect so many people to like my promptober.

Day 4 - Bells

Pairing: Yandere!Moon x Gender Neutral Reader Warning: Suggestive Words: 1800~ Summary: It's naptime, and Moon is a teasing little shit.

Naptime was a very special moment at the Superstar Daycare, and not just because it was the time when the Attendant Moon came out of his “slumber”, but also because it was the only time when silence fell into the daycare. You clocked in, in the morning, and the upbeat tune of the daycare would already be playing in the background, unstopping until naptime. When it was time the lights would begin to dim, the music would slowly fade away, the Attendant Sun would say goodbye to all his friends and the calm, collected and peaceful Moon would emerge.

As every other day, from behind the security desk, you watched as the nightly animatronic coaxed kids to sleep, singing lullabies, reading stories, covering them in soft smiles and kind whispers. Already smiling, you watched the crouching robot standing up to his full height after putting the last kid to sleep, slowly turning to look at you with his bright red eyes. As always, he would walk closer to you, hands behind his back and a grin on his face, and you would observe his demeanor change. With the kids Moon was gentle, but with you the naptime attendant showed his other face. Vicious, mean, playful and teasing.

-Hi, Shooting Star,- he murmured, -Good to see you.-

-Hi to you too, Moonie.- You smiled up at him, already knowing you were in for a long, long hour of constant flirting.

-Had any dreams about me tonight?- asked the animatronic, resting his hands on the desk on either side of you, as a way of caging you in. Already used to it, you didn’t let yourself feel intimidated like the first time. Moon had gotten quite the crush on you and everyone equipped with eyes would have been able to notice it. He didn't really care about hiding his love from the eyes of the public.

-Maybe. What about you? Did I visit you in your sleep?- You knew animatronics couldn’t dream, and that was exactly the reason why you had asked such a question in the first place. The grin on Moon’s flat face became bigger.

-You know that I constantly and always think about you, my sweet,- he cooed, leaning closer to you, like he wanted to go in for a kiss, -You plague my every thought, you are everywhere I look. I close my eyes and still see your beautiful smile embellishing my memory.-

You inched your face closer to Moon’s with half-lidded eyes, parting your lips and breathing a deep sigh, but exactly when the robot shuddered and tried to close the distance you stood up, pulling away. You smirked, hearing him groan in frustration after being fooled once more.

-What a tease,- he complained, clutching his chest, -Tempting me with something you’re not willing to give me!-

-You’re welcome,- you laughed, leaving the safe space behind the desk and beginning to walk towards the closest arts & craft table. You sat on top of it, and in less than a blink you had Moon kneeling at your feet. The bells sang in the empty daycare as he swiftly moved, literally falling for you with a soft thud muffled by the mats under him. His huge, clawed but gentle hands rested on your knees, prying them just slightly apart so he could sloth himself between them, then rested his head in your lap. You caressed his fluffy sleeping cap, like you would do with a cat, and immediately the robot began to purr something alike to a melodic motif.

-Why must you torture me this way?- Moon begged you, sounding hurt, but you knew better than to fall for one of his tricks. -You hold me, you caress me, whisper sweet nothings and then throw me away! You leave me unkissed.-

Moon shifted so he could look up at you from his position in your lap, and the look he had in his eyes made you tremble. A shiver ran up, from the base of your spine to the back of your neck, making goosebumps rise on your arms and shoulders. Moon stared at you with such intensity, with so much longing, like he could follow the patterns the goosebumps formed on your skin from under your clothes. Under his gaze you were always defenseless, naked.

-You leave me wanting, darling,- he spoke, voice so deep you felt it in your stomach, -Desiring, starving, begging.-

Two claw-tipped hands came to place themselves around your waist, and you gasped. Moon had never gone that far with you, he had never looked at you in that way before. Was he at his breaking point? Had you pulled the string too taunt?

-Will you ever give me what I so desire?-

You wanted to give in so much, you wanted to say it. “Yes, yes! I will!” You wanted to lean down, cup his face in your hands and kiss him, but you were scared. No, you were terrified. Of what? Of not being able to stop. You feared it would become a drug to you, addictive, because Moon had that effect on you. Each time his hands left yours you felt cold and alone, and such solitude could only be healed by his contact. You were scared that, if you did kiss him, all your repressed emotions would surface and you wouldn't be able to pull away ever again.

-Only when you prove yourself deserving of my love,- you replied, pretending like your insides weren’t in complete turmoil.

-What do you want me to do?- asked Moon, and in his voice you could feel all his desperation. That robot, who was far, far stronger than you could imagine and more than capable of doing harm, looked like he was ready to maim and kill for you. He had the eyes of someone willing to rip out one of his own arms with no hesitation if you ordered him to do so, and yet you couldn’t understand the power you were holding in your hands. The little jester was dancing in your palm, mindlessly joking, flirting and courting, but at the smallest order he could become a beast terrible enough to be feared by humans and robots alike.

-I dunno,- you shrugged, -As soon as I think about it I’ll let you know.-

Cuddles had become a part of naptime ever since you had gotten hired at the plex. Moon didn’t even know he was that touch starved before meeting you, but ever since he saw you he had felt a growing urge inside of him which he couldn’t place. He had fallen for you, quickly and hard, and as soon as your hands caressed his face for the first time electricity sparked in his wires. He was touch starved. Heavy on “starved”, mainly because just seeing you left him hungry for more.

As you caressed his nightcap you eyes noticed something unusual in Moon’s clothes. One of the red ribbons tied around his wrists was loose, and the bells were chiming in distress, like begging you to save them. You grabbed Moon’s hand and brought it closer to you, which caused his smug expression to return to his face.

-If you wanted to hold my hand so badly you could have just asked, Nightlight,- he purred, but his expression quickly changed when he noticed his little problem, -Oh.-

He attentively watched as you untied the ribbon without saying a word, gentle, leaving his wrist naked and bare. The sight of it was unusual, new, and somewhat… No, you couldn’t think that, it was just a wrist. The bells jingled happily in your hands as you slowly wrapped the ribbon again around Moon’s lithe wrist, careful and attentive, tying it into a pretty knot. All the while, the jester looked at you wide-eyed. Your eyes met, and his fans kicked on.

-Sorry, my bells tend to slip away,- the robot joked, -One wrong move and they’re gone.-

-You should be more careful then, if you don't want to lose them,- you said, not letting go of his hand yet, -Tie them tightly to you.-

-I will,- he nodded, -I never intend to let them go, I’m just… I don’t want to risk damaging them.-

You and him weren’t talking about bells anymore, were you?

-You’re a very kind robot, did you know that, Moon?- you smiled, squeezing his hand in yours. The soft padding of his palms was warm against your skin, a strong contrast with his cold and sharp claws that were resting on your forearm, with how long they were. Ever since Moon got those upgrades, meant to help with his security job, he had learned to be careful with his hands. He cradled children, he held them and lulled them to sleep, he couldn’t allow them to get hurt because he couldn’t control his own hands! Also, he didn’t want to hurt you, his dearest flower.

-I thought I was a mischievous bastard?- Moon laughed, but he returned serious again when you rolled your eyes. -...Thank you.-

Your eyes looked so pretty in the dark, they were so bright he could see his image mirrored in them. He wasn’t joking when he called you his shooting star. You brightened his night.

Your faces were so close, your nose was almost touching Moon’s faceplate. This time you were the one who began to lean in, slowly closing the distance between you and him, until your parted lips brushed against his heated silicone. So warm, so close, so close.

-Mr Moon?- a child yawned, beginning to get up from her little bed, -I had a bad dream!-

Immediately, you and Moon both gasped, parting from one another like you had been burned. The animatronic’s red optics ran swiftly between your blushing face and the child, not knowing who to prioritize as the heat inside his chassis subdued.

He had gotten so close to kissing you, so, so close. You were right there, he could still…!

-Mr Moon?-

No, he had a job, he had to stick to the rules, as much as he desired something else. Apologetic, he looked at you and sighed.

-Sorry, Nightlight,- he said, beginning to stand back up, -I have to go.-

-Wait.- You spoke hurriedly, like you were scared courage could leave you. Surprised, Moon turned back around.

-Is something wro…?-

In the dark of the daycare, kept hidden by voyeuristic eyes and in the comfort of one another, you grabbed the jester by the frill around his waist, pulling him close with all the strength you had. Your face was burning, your whole world was burning, nothing existed beside you and him, so before Moon could even understand what you were doing your lips crushed against his, and you kissed him.

Should I mention that the entire time I was writing this I pictured @xitsensunmoon's Moon? I'm sorry I just. I love him. (Hope you don't mind the tag jshdjd)

[cjrae]

Stunted Love. Or: The Theme of MaoMao's little finger.

Maomao's little finger is a recurring motif in the Apothecary Diaries, and it receives even more emphasis in the anime's first season - it represents her belief that romantic love leads to pain and destruction. Spoilers primarily for the anime, but also the epilogue of light novel four and Chapter 15 of light novel six below.

Love In A Cage

The motif is first introduced in "The Unsettling Matter of the Spirit" - Concubine Fuyou's story. Maomao has already noted the parallels between the red light district and the Inner Palace, but here we see what happens when romantic love is introduced into the mix. On paper, Concubine Fuyou is a literal object of pity. Her personhood is being gifted to an officer who recently distinguished himself on the front lines, discarded after having failed to please the Emperor. It's telling that this is one of the first times we see Jinshi interacting with a consort where he is completely serious, without bringing his charm to bear. We never hear him say anything, but it's clear that he's communicating the Emperor's order with respect and understanding the gravity of the consequences for Fuyou.

As the events of the episode unfold, the parallels between courtesans and consorts get stronger as Maomao introduces the concept of having a contract bought out - if a man wants a courtesan enough, she is also an object to be purchased, albeit at potentially astronomical price. At first glance, it would seem like these women have absolutely no power in these scenarios - but by the end of the episode, Maomao shows us the feminine side of this transaction - how a woman can manipulate the system she is trapped by in order to get what she wants. All she has to do is lower her value - a rather counterintuitive measure that can go horribly wrong all too easily, as we see later.

And what Concubine Fuyou wants is to escape the Inner Palace to be with the man she loves - a task that she succeeds at. She has played a long, patient game in the service of freedom. Trapped in the cage of the Inner Palace herself, Maomao holds her scarred finger against the freedom of the sky and wonders what kind of medicine love would make.

Devotion

We see further flashbacks to Maomao's past through multiple episodes, but the next time the concept of love is brought up is when Fengming is confessing her role in the death of Consort Ah-Duo's baby in "Honey" (episode 11). Maomao is brought up short by Fengming's confession - she flat out says to the audience that she's never loved anyone with that depth of devotion Fengming displays toward Ah-Duo, so she doesn't know how Fengming feels. But if she doesn't have empathy to offer, she does have a rough kindness. Another person might have said that Ah-Duo deserved to know why her son died, that the knowledge might have provided closure. Maomao, however, believes that knowing the baby's cause of death would only cause more pain (it's never the crime and always about the cover-up) without providing any actual benefit.

With these two episodes framing her early character development we see that, whatever Maomao's natural inclinations are (and I will leave discussion of neuro divergency to those better qualified to discuss it), there is a certain distance between Maomao and her emotions most of the time. It is implied that this distancing from her emotions is a trauma response as the image of a woman holding a knife above her head while kneeling on a bed is shown but not explained (it is the only recurring image during the montage before the discussion about her potential execution with Jinshi).

Lakan and Fengxian

In "Lakan" (episode 18) the motif begins recurring more often as Maomao's parentage is revealed. We've caught glimpses of the sick woman in the annex before, but as the camera pans over the bed, it's clear that this is Maomao's mother (as always in anime, the hair is a dead giveaway). We've seen Maomao in this room, always curled in a fetal position, staring with blank eyes, but here we see Maomao actually caring for a woman who she describes as driving her out over and over again. The camera's focus is on Maomao's eyes as she watches her mother continuing to deteriorate - they're blank yet again, echoing her earlier line of "This is stupid. She's gone."

This is not the look of a girl who genuinely doesn't care about her mother. The image of her mother with the knife upraised is straight out of recurring nightmares that wake her gasping with terror and continue to haunt her after she's returned to work. While there is no AFFECTION involved, there are certainly very strong emotions here. Later, in the bath with Meimei, Maomao wonders if Meimei's in love - and immediately shies away from the thought, insisting that "love is an emotion I'm sure I left behind in the womb."

Interestingly, this is immediately belied as the Three Princesses (the women who took on the maternal role that her mother discarded) begin to pamper Maomao in the bath, and she relaxes into their touch, flushed with belonging and pleasure at their attention.

Confrontation

In "Blue Roses," (episode 22), everything has built to a head. By hiding Maomao back into the Rear Palace, Jinshi is acting as her shield - and Lakan responds with a power play. Both he and Jinshi are aware that Lakan knows his true identity, so Lakan provokes Jinshi with a political test. "Nothing is impossible" for a man with Jinshi's power - so providing some blue roses at a garden party in early spring should be simple, right? It's a near impossible task and Lakan knows it - even if Jinshi were to figure out how to dye the roses to be the appropriate color, they're still out of season.

Up until now, Maomao's response to Lakan has been to hide. But, with Jinshi's reputation on the line and seeing how worn out he is, Maomao has finally had enough. So she takes Lakan's challenge on and, while she's in the process of growing the hothouse roses so that Jinshi can best Lakan, she diverts unwanted attention from the Crystal Palace's handmaidens by showing Xiaolan how to do a manicure - something that draws attention to the deformed pinky on her hand and changes her perspective of the damage to the finger.

The art should be paid attention to here - we see close up shots of two other people's hands after having the manicure done - Xiaolan and Consort Lihua. In both of these shots, there's some subtle detail paid to their little fingers as well - Xiaolan's is ever so slightly crooked rather than perfectly straight, while Lihua flexes her fingers so that the pinky is extended as she looks at her hands. In the next shot, Maomao has done her nails as well - and when Jinshi draws attention to the fact that he's surprised she would do her nails (like Hongiang, Maomao usually prefers work over fashion), she looks at the finger and remarks that, even though her little finger is twisted and scarred, it looks better than it did before - an acknowledgement that the finger is not actually a hindrance, but a piece of her identity.

Healing

Giving Lakan the opportunity to finally do right by Fengxian is the most grace and forgiveness that Maomao can extend to either of her parents. Their romantic love is certainly sympathetic to an outsider, but Maomao was shaped by the consequences. Lakan's carelessness and Fengxian's willingness to break the rules of the pleasure district in order to deliberately lower her value so that she could be with the man she loved, is the guiding cautionary tale of her life.

But Maomao has also grown over the season. She is neither the terrified little girl, abandoned by mother and father alike (however unintentionally on Lakan's part) nor a teenager full of fear fueled rage at Lakan's persistence. She is Luomen's daughter and proud of that fact - she has found her family and a place in the world. It is with that more adult understanding of the world around her that she dances atop the wall of the Rear Palace, giving her parents the only thing she can, which is her blessing and best wishes for their short future, as she sends her mother off.

Sure enough, who is watching her as she takes a step toward a more mature identity but Jinshi? Other characters have provided a shield between Maomao and Lakan - Verdigris' madam, Meimei and even Luomen. But it is on Jinshi's behalf that Maomao decided to face Lakan herself. She loves her adoptive dad and granny and sisters with all the affection she never received from Fengxian, but Maomao's actions have always spoken much louder than her words - Jinshi protected her and she, in turn, chose to face her childhood bogeyman to help him.

Is it stating the obvious that Maomao tripping and Jinshi catching her is an obvious metaphor for falling in love?

As she dances on the wall, we see the two seemingly disparate sides of her identity coalesce into a whole. The moment she lets down her hair is a uniquely Japanese moment of eroticism (this is why maiko and geisha use the oshiroi that bare the nape of their necks), even as she's also deliberately reapplied her freckles.

The moment she realizes that Jinshi truly sees all of her in a uniquely emotional moment, she trips and is made terrifyingly vulnerable as she nearly goes over the edge - only to be caught safely in Jinshi's arms.

Safely back atop the wall, the little finger comes up one more time - except that this time, instead of looking at the damage inflicted and seeing the scar, Maomao looks at her pinky and shows it to Jinshi, telling him what sounds like a strangely gruesome medical fact. That a fingertip can regrow if cut off. For all the trauma that her biological parents caused her, for all that her pinky will be scarred for the rest of her life, the wound did heal. Maomao has healed - she is capable of friendship, loyalty and love that can inspire devotion - even if she rarely displays open affection.

Love Creates Fear

This motif comes back again, at the end of light novel 4 (what will be the end of Season 2, if the studio continues to stick to two light novels a season for pacing, which I expect they will). Jinshi has officially cast aside his cover as a eunuch and stepped into the political limelight as the Imperial Brother. Maomao, as a result of their adventures, has returned home, to her apothecary shop and, as she works she thinks about how everything has changed.

"Jinshi must have finally gone back to being whoever he really was. Maomao didn't know his real name: she couldn't have used it even if she did. The worlds they lived in were simply too different…Anyway, now that Jinshi was no longer a eunuch, he couldn't get away with keeping some lowborn girl around him…So it was for the best, really, that Maomao had come back to the apothecary's shop in the pleasure district."

As Maomao ruminates to herself about how she will never see Jinshi again, she retreats to what she knows best - medicine. She's got her emotions under lock and key and she's begun experimenting, working on creating a more potent painkiller. However, her pain tolerance is too high to work with her previous methods.

Or, to lay the metaphor bare, Maomao has dealt with abandonment before, but not like this. Her usual methods aren't working - so it's time to up the ante. What she does next is extremely telling.

"'Got to cut deeper if I want to be sure'. Maomao looked at her left hand, then tied some string firmly around her pinky. She stood and took a small knife from a cabinet. 'Here goes!'

Just as she was about to bring the knife down, a beautiful voice interrupted her: 'WHAT are you doing?'

Without a word, she turned to see a man in an unusual mask standing in the entryway of the shop…'Done with all your work?' Maomao asked, undoing the string around her finger and putting the knife back in the cabinet."

The thought that she and Jinshi are now living in such different worlds that they will never see each other again is painful enough that cutting her finger off in a thinly justified experiment is preferable to feeling her own emotions. What Maomao wants in this moment is a return to the emotional numbness of the past - only this time, she will do the damage herself.

But Jinshi is not Lakan and abandoning Maomao for any reason is simply not an option. Just as he caught her on the wall, Jinshi catches her again. A prince is standing in an apothecary shop on the edges of the red-light district, a place where he should not be - except for the fact that it's where Maomao is.

Connection and Communication

Finally, as a callback toward the end of light novel six, Jinshi and Maomao are beginning to reconnect after Jinshi screwed up and lost a lot of emotional ground in light novel five's epilogue, and he does the following.

"She reached out for the package, which Jinshi had put behind his back, but he planted a palm on her belly to keep her from sitting up and she couldn't reach it. She kicked her legs from sheer frustration and this time he grabbed her ankle. She was just trying to decide what he might be planning when he brushed the tip of his pinky finger along the back of her foot.

'Hrk?!' Maomao choked, squirming...The back of her foot, and her back as well, were hopelessly vulnerable to a gentle brush of the fingers.

'M-Master Jinshi...That's...not...fair!'"

While Jinshi is still the instigator in this scene, this is the the first instance of romantic and sexual contact that Maomao accepts, eventually bursting out laughing - and when he gets that laughter, Jinshi also immediately backs off, accepting that he has pushed her as far as she can go right now. But that first contact was via that tiny fingertip representing love.

His hard-learned patience is rewarded when Maomao is finally willing to speak to Jinshi about how she's feeling about his desire to marry her, first obliquely as they discuss the plot of a very familiar tragic romance, before she addresses the issue directly.

"Instead of answering, she murmured, 'I don't want to be an enemy.' Jinshi gave her a sidelong look as if to ask whose enemy she meant. 'To Empress Gyokuyou,' she said.

Would Jinshi understand what she was saying? If not, that was fine, Maomao thought. There were things even he didn't know.

'You - '

He seemed about to ask her something else when a horse whinnied outside..."

Maomao may be hesitant, she may feel very confused, but she finally gives Jinshi something to work with here - communicating to him not that she simply doesn't care about him that way, but that she has a very real, concrete fear about what a romantic relationship with him would mean, not only for them, but for everyone else around them.

That's a lot to balance on the tip of a pinky.

[raayllum]

1x03 / 1x06 / 3x04 / 5x02 / 6x04

[imminent-danger-came]

Part of me, deep deep down, wonders if we still may have a scene of MK on his knees versus his friends a la 4x07

[vidavalor]

What do you think is happening in the scene when Crowley falls to the ground in pain in Tadfield?! I find your thoughts about Satan and Crowley really interesting and sorry if you've already mentioned it but I think I've gobbled up all your metas on the subject and didn't see it. Thank you 🤗

Hi there! 💕 Thanks for reading & asking. I have an assortment of Christmas cookies to share. *gets the plates* Sugar feels extra necessary for Satan-related Crowley meta...

Let's talk about that 1.06 scene you mentioned where Crowley is dragged to the ground by Satan in Tadfield, what it has to do with a motif throughout both seasons around a thing known as proskynesis, and how all of that is relevant to The Final 15 in S2.

TW: rape (mentions of the non-consensual possession-as-rape allegory).

Note: Themes of bodily autonomy and its relationship to freedom overlap between Good Omens and Terry Pratchett's Discworld and that's the main reason why some of us are still here, not giving up on this rare, A+++ survivor story, despite also wanting to hurl a certain, other person once involved with it into an active volcano. Considering the topic, I felt the need to just mention that at the start.

Sooo... let's talk about what the scene in your ask has to do with a bunch of other ones, including that scene in The Final 15...

Good Omens has a few scenes that are dealing with a thing known as proskynesis. If you're unfamiliar with this, it's a word describing rituals of reverence and worship in royal courts, as formed originally in various parts of the ancient world, like Persia, Greece, and Rome, as well as rituals involving religious worship across many different religions.

Aspects of proskynesis exist into the present in different ways in different cultures. For societies that are monarchies, proskynesis is at the root of rituals regarding how subjects in those societies address royalty. Everything from kissing the ring of high-ranking clergy in some churches to doing the same with some mafia leaders has historical ties to this. Things like bowing and curtsying customs in Victorian England can also be rooted back to proskynesis.

There are also elements of it in everyday manners and customs in societies that you wouldn't think would have any connection in the modern world to things like this. In many democracies, for instance, as in many other countries of the world, the custom of getting down on one knee to propose marriage is actually rooted in proskynesis, even if the partnership is (hopefully) more equal in today's societies.

The Japanese, who have an intricate system of bowing as part of the social expectations of their society, are a great example of how proskynesis elements have evolved to not necessarily be related to royalty or religious worship but also form the roots of manners between people throughout all classes of a society.

The rules of proskynesis in a society or a religious group varied in details a bit between cultures but has always had the same, general, wide gap between different types of actions.

As a general rule, there's a polite head bob of a bow on one end of the spectrum of proskynesis, with different bows then getting progressively lower and more intense, until we're closer to the other, more extreme end of the spectrum. That end involves kneeling at the feet of the king or in worship of a deity. The absolute, opposite end of that spectrum from that polite, head nod/bob of a bow is fully prostrating, which is lying fully on the ground, and what of this is tied to the scene in your ask, as we'll look at here.

The sketch below is a good, simple visual of what I mean:

[User: Arseni on Wikipedia]

What's interesting to note here is that when you look at the above sketch and see different movements in it that are associated with different religions, these things came to those religions by first being associated with the royal court of ancient Persia and then being adopted, in part, into Greece and Rome. What physical worshipping in a religious way looks like to this day was adopted into different religions from how humans were showing deference to other humans as royalty.

One, big debate in Christianity is actually what kind of proskynesis was given to Jesus. The word is found in The New Testament but Jesus is the perfect example of the blurred lines here between venerating a human being and treating one like a god.

There are different levels of proskynesis for religious figures, with saints and the like being ok to venerate but proskynesis involving full worship supposed to remain only for God. What kind of treatment Jesus received or should have received and what he thought about it is a matter of debate. Is he a carpenter or is he a king of kings, right? Is he human or is he supernatural... or is he both?

Crowley and Aziraphale struggle with this, too, but what they wind up doing is not technically proskynesis but it's arguably a lot better. They bear witness to Jesus' suffering and murder. They show him empathy and respect. The scene we see shows them talking about him a bit, as two people might do at any wake or funeral or the like for ages to come.

When it came to royalty, what kind of proskynesis you would perform would be dependent in different courts on your rank and your relationship to the king. You might be expected to grovel with some really low bows if you were of low rank or to have a more modest bow or to kiss the king, if you were of higher rank. The lower ranked people were expected to go lower in their bows and do more work with all of this, in order for even the chance of being recognized by the king or another high-ranked royal.

When Crowley mocks Beez, addressing them formally as Lord Beezlebub, he does a formal bow, complete with the proper foot positioning-- you can see him step into it from how his hips move. He bows almost to the waist, complete with flourishing hand gestures that are showing mock-fealty and deference to the Grand Duke of Hell by sarcastically treating them as if they were a king.

This scene which, as we'll see, is related to the one in your ask, is only one example of a couple of Crowley sassing the fuck out of someone, specifically by using proskynesis. It also adds to the chilling nature of the scene in your ask by having occurred just a matter of moments prior.

Beez lets it pass entirely because they're really only Lord Beezlebub in an attempt to project power enough to try to survive Hell. Their title is more about self-protection than it is about an expectation of deference-- which is something that Crowley also knows and is at the heart of the mockery.

Like Aziraphale, with his respectful bowing to his friend in gratitude for the sushi in 1.01, Crowley has no issue with a polite, non-religious, non-royal version of proskynesis. If worshipping the humans is wrong, Crowley and Aziraphale don't wanna be right. They don't revere individual humans as kings or gods but they do revere humanity itself as a whole in that way. They show polite respect to those sharing that with them or educating them in it.

They also do that with one another. Crowley's soft, polite nod of a bow to Aziraphale when they meet in Eden is gentlemanly. It's respectful but not in a way that isn't just treating Aziraphale as an equal. Nina gets a similar treatment when they meet in S2.

Crowley still does something similar into the modern era with Aziraphale-- note the little nod/bow when Aziraphale accepts his lunch invitation in S1.

This is all very much on the egalitarian end of proskynesis; it's in where it basically formed parts of the foundation of gestures related to having good manners in different societies. It's respect and acknowledgement between people who view and treat one another as equals, as is the case with Crowley and Aziraphale.

Their relationship is one that is built around equality, free choice, and consent. Therefore, when Crowley apologizes in S2 in another scene that is related to the one in your ask by being an intentional, totally opposite contrast to it, Aziraphale can barely contain his laughter at Crowley's mock-submissive dance. The dance, in many ways, is really a satire of proskynesis.

Crowley is doing this "yes, my king" dance for Aziraphale with tongue firmly in cheek. The dance is poking fun at the difference between general submissiveness, which Crowley loathes and likes to mock, and voluntary sexual submission with one another, which different scenes have shown us that they both periodically enjoy as some light fun from time to time.

Aziraphale is desperately trying not to laugh long enough to reply with equal humor in his dry, self-aware, soft dom voice. He can't resist smiling a bit and mimes a kiss at Crowley-- seeing Crowley's droll mocking of proskynesis-- which is etymologically linked to words related to kissing and which can involve it in different stages-- and replying by bestowing upon Crowley a kiss.

Aziraphale is intentionally doing something that isn't really the result of proskynesis when in the royal circles that Crowley is referencing with The Apology Dance. The subject is meant to seek the king's favor and would be the one, if ranked high enough to warrant such a relationship with royalty, who would kiss the king-- not the other way around. By miming a kiss at Crowley, Aziraphale is meeting Crowley's mocking of inequitable aspects of proskynesis with some mocking of his own by being miming a kiss at Crowley, who is his equal and partner.

There's also a droll joke in there where the only royal subject of a king who could reasonably have expected a kiss from the king, if maybe not always in a public setting, was the king's queen. So, Crowley's whole mocking Apology Dance has a joking, "yes, my king" vibe to it and Aziraphale's response is to show equal humor towards and affection for the person who is-- in all senses of the word-- his queen.

The end of Crowley's dance is a combination curtsy and what's known as a bow-and-scrape-- the thing from which the phrase "to bow and scrape" comes. The scrape is the movement of the foot behind a person across the floor, done to be able to go lower to the floor on the bow.

To "bow and scrape" was to basically grovel in this really overly demonstrative way for favor with the king, in the hopes that he'd be impressed by your humiliating submission enough to bestow favor upon you. The phrase now refers to doing a large amount of work or groveling to someone in a position in authority, usually with the suggested reward likely not forthcoming.

The second word in the phrase-- scrape-- also contains the word for the thing Crowley has survived at the hands of that fucking monster, Satan, who lives for the demons to bow and scrape for his favor. That's intentional on Crowley's part-- the end of this apology dance is also a visual pun on the word scrape, which contains the word rape, and this while he's doing this mocking dance that is a perfect example of how completely different and very healthy his relationship with Aziraphale is by how he is free to be this hilarious, sassy shit with his partner versus the forced subjugation by his assailant.

You might think that wordplay-- visual or otherwise-- involving the word rape is a bit dark. I won't disagree with that but I just want to briefly show you other examples of it that I've noticed so you can see what they're showing as the rationale for it between Crowley and Aziraphale. It's actually more of an empowering thing when you see other examples of it that are in other scenes.

Crowley and Aziraphale's cant vocabulary-- their invented hidden language-- uses a lot of words-within-words, just like how rape lives within scrape. If you consider that, you might also notice a couple of foods that recur in Good Omens that also are related to this. In Crowley and Aziraphale's language and in their life together, food is food but food is also figurative language for sex. Their healthy relationship and all the food and sex that is part of their life together is their answer to the traumas they've both suffered.

It's sensual, mindful living that focuses on healthier, positive experiences that help them to provide one another with a quality of life that the pain of Heaven and Hell does not. As a result, some frequently mentioned food and drink is held up between them as examples of the loving, enjoyable, pleasurable relationship with one another that they have that stands in contrast to Heaven and, especially, Hell.

Crowley enjoys wine, right? Which is made from? Grapes, as Aziraphale orders in 1601...

The opposite of the rape-related issues that Aziraphale unintentionally triggered in Crowley in 1793, for example, is what he then offers him for lunch-- both figurative and euphemistic crepes.

Not coincidentally, that's also what Aziraphale suggested the day after Crowley was assaulted by Satan on the night Armageddon began-- the crepes of Paris, 1793-- and Crowley, as we could see, was all for it:

Another covert reference to this is Aziraphale's magic trick of changing a turnip into an inkwell. It's a metaphor on a couple of different levels but one of them is that the word rape overlaps with a type of plant that is also called that and is the category name for a group of plants and vegetables, the most famous of which is the turnip.

Turnips are also a pretty clever food metaphor for rape. They have been in existence for forever and are, horrifyingly, really common, but no one-- no one lol-- has ever really wanted to eat a turnip. They're not a terribly appealing food and I would wager that if you lined up every person on the planet and asked them to name a delicious food no one-- at all-- would say the turnip.

So, adding that into the etymology of the vegetable being tied to the word rape, then turning "the common turnip" into "an inkwell"-- when sea creatures, like octopi, are often sources of ink, and 'well' meaning both healthy and a flowing source of liquid? It's Aziraphale making a magic trick that is a metaphor for him helping Crowley heal from the rape-related inorgasmia referenced subtly in a few, other scenes, and which is the subject of the Fish meta, if you're interested in that.

Anyway, the healthy, humorous, proskynesis-mocking apology dance is one of the scenes that serves as a direct contrast to the scene in your ask where Crowley is forced to the ground by Satan in Tadfield. That scene involves the other, more extreme end of proskynesis, which is number 6 on the sketch near the start of the meta: prostration.

To be clear: how people want to worship in any way, if they do, is no one's business, so long as it's not harming anyone else. There's nothing inherently wrong with any of this if it's of someone's free will. The scene in your ask, though, doesn't involve free choice, it involves forced subjugation, which is from where the horror of it comes.

Prostration involves lying flat and face down on the ground with your arms outstretched. It involves kissing the feet of the king or the ground that you believe belongs to the deity you're worshipping.

Prostration is complete submission. It's basically a rejection of any sense of self in full deference to the king or the deity.

In Hell, all the demons are seen as belonging to Satan. Several of them, like Hastur and Shax, refer to Satan as "our Master." They are all seen as Satan's subjects and his property-- all known as a collective referred to by Hastur in S1 as The Fallen, as we also looked at in relation to Aziraphale being Mr. Fell in this meta.

In Heaven and Hell's view, The Fallen do not belong to themselves but to Satan. Crowley's sense of autonomy and his relationship with Aziraphale are secrets he keeps because of how they conflict with Hell, where he's not supposed to have any other desire but to live to serve his rapist, who believes that he owns him.

All of Crowley's mocking of anything more than a polite nod when it comes to proskynesis is more than just being generally anti-royalty and anti-authority. The root cause of all of it is Satan.

In the scene in Tadfield, Satan is forcing Crowley to first kneel and, then, to prostrate, before him.

When Crowley clutches one hand to his chest and uses his other hand under him to keep himself an inch or two above ground, he's doing so in an effort to resist fully prostrating.

He's trying to keep his hands from being pulled out in front of him and to keep up enough to keep his lips from kissing the ground in forced subjugation to Satan.

This is probably the darkest scene in the show-- even darker, maybe, than 1.01's scene of Satan attacking Crowley in The Bentley-- because this is a whole new level of horror here. Crowley is shaking with the pain of fighting for enough control over himself to keep from prostrating any more than he is being forced to. This is happening with other people present-- including Aziraphale and kids, including Satan's own kid-- with the obvious humiliation factor being part of the attack.

Unlike in 1.01, when Satan took complete control of Crowley to a point that he couldn't speak, he's left him that ability in this scene, getting off on hearing Crowley protest. This scene shocks because the 1.01 scene of Satan attacking Crowley, and subsequent scenes reinforcing the non-consensual possession-as-rape allegory throughout the story, lead the viewer to believe that this is how it will always be referred to in the story. It lulls us into a sense of complacency where we think we know what the show will do, which has the desired effect of making this scene, in which they shift that tone pretty dramatically, all the more impactful and terrifying.

Furthering the allegorical here is that Crowley is outmatched, power-wise, for the most part, but is putting up a fight. He's moved by an assailant against his will, quite violently. He's dragged to his knees and then pushed forward to the ground. He's in pain and distressed, he's lost control of his body, his legs end up splayed, he pulls in on himself as much as he can, and he's repeatedly saying the word no. I think it might be pretty much impossible to make a scene full of more direct correlations to rape than this scene. They're doing so to really underline this survivor story with Crowley that is running through so many of the other scenes.

Crowley grabs his right leg when he is forced down to the tarmac, presumably because that's the side that is being forced to move by Satan to drag Crowley to his knees. It's possible, though, that this might be also be an allusion to the aftermath of 1827.

When we saw Crowley in 1862 in the scene that functions as him still trying to deal with what happened in 1827, Crowley was carrying that cane that many think was more than a fashion statement. Something that could cause Crowley periodic pain, while also still allowing for other scenes in which he pretty clearly isn't in any pain, is the possibility that, in the 1827 aftermath, Satan broke one or both of Crowley's legs.

As any of us who have ever broken a part of our human corporations know, they can often be painful long after they heal and frequently subject to weather and stress. It's possible that Crowley had recurring pain for decades and might still into today. This is all speculative but why else might this idea also fit?

Possibly just because there are so many scenes in Good Omens that are nothing but Crowley just walking freely or hopping, owning his human body by sauntering around on the legs that are often symbolic of his life as a human of Earth, as he very notably doesn't have them in snake form... and his snake form is something that he associates negatively with his fall and Hell.

Crowley's walk at any given time is related to his sense of empowerment and, sweetly, there are also a bunch of scenes of Aziraphale just gazing at Crowley as he walks around. Including, darkly, the one that was happening when Crowley was dragged to Hell in 1827:

The scene related to this that I like best, though, is when Crowley and Aziraphale both get one over on Satan and The Metatron by successfully hiding Gabriel in S2. They grin at one another as Crowley hops down from the chair, fully in his body, landing gracefully and happily on the legs that, whether once broken or not, we have seen in 1.06 ripped out from under him by Satan before.

Hell also has some Godfather-referencing, mafia-like nods in different scenes in the series and breaking someone's legs is kind of classic mob stuff but, really, I think it's more tied to the whole forced subservience snake thing. Crowley, telling Aziraphale that he'd changed his name to one we learn in S2's Job minisode is associated for Crowley with freedom, autonomy, choice, and Aziraphale...

...from one that is "a bit too squirming-at-your-feet-ish" to Crowley. It's a comment made more horrifying when 1.06's scene in Tadfield makes it clear that this isn't just a metaphor here-- Crowley's unwillingness to be Crawly and his discomfort with being a snake makes even more sense once we have this scene in Tadfield that sees Satan knock his human legs out from under him and force him into literally squirming like a snake at his feet.

No wonder why Snake!Crowley has a tendency to prefer roaring like a lion when transforming into a snake-like monster, like he did in the paintball scene...

Crowley and Aziraphale working to reframe and claim The Serpent from Crowley's negative associations with being a snake is something I talked about in the other meta I posted recently, should you also be interested in that.

The other thing of note when it comes to this scene of Satan trying to force Crowley to fully prostrate is then the fact that, while we've looked at the horror that Crowley is experiencing here, there are some other scenes that are subtly referencing positive life experiences that can be associated with this same type of position, if the situation is consensual and of someone's free choice.

They're also the exact types of things that can be complicated by having been assaulted. Lying face down are obviously both common sexual and sleep positions, for instance...

In S1, one of the scenes that got cut was supposed to be Crowley waking up from a nap in his flat. The script book says it was supposed to be that Crowley was sleeping on the ceiling in his bedroom, which also looks to be how they were filming it from the picture of it that exists. DT filmed it standing up, presumably so that they could flip the shot around and make it look like Crowley was sleeping on the ceiling. In addition to the heat-seeking snake aspect of this, there's some interesting psychology that may be at work here.

Crowley's flat in S1 was not owned by Crowley-- Hell owned it, as we can see even more in S2-- and he was not technically safe in it. Hell isn't great with boundaries and, although Crowley had structured the flat to make it so that he might have some warning if someone were to come through the front door, there was no guarantee that they would do that. Crowley sleeping on the ceiling in the bedroom in his flat might suggest that he did so, at least in part, to try to have an advantage over someone who might show up in his flat.

It might suggest that Crowley likes to sleep on his stomach but he felt too vulnerable to do that in the bed in his flat so the only way he could make that happen there was to sleep on the ceiling, where his position would potentially be a bit more advantageous. Where Crowley likely does not have that issue is in the bookshop, as he's much safer there.

In another area of life? After 1.06 showing where the proskynesis theme was leading in that season, this scene below is then retroactively given another layer:

As looked at before, Aziraphale's hand gestures here are actually massage movements. His dialogue is also full of massage-related puns-- need/knead, back, practice. Probably also not coincidentally? In addition to just being fun and relaxing, massage is also often suggested by therapists working with couples where one or more partners has been assaulted, as it can be therapeutic on a variety of levels. The scene is suggestive of Crowley being comfortable with a variety of different kinds of pleasurable prostrate positions with Aziraphale, which stands in obvious direct contrast to the horrors of Satan.

So, here's where we're going to end this by talking about some mirroring to the scene in your ask with The Final 15, especially through using etymology. The word proskynesis comes from the Greek and is a combination of pros (meaning: towards, in this case) and kyneo (meaning: kiss). Some translations of it actually wind up being less "towards the kiss" more along the lines of "to kiss in the presence of."

Yeah... There's a word in the mix in this story that means "to kiss in the presence of" and that feels pretty relevant to the last few minutes of the most recent episode we've seen, no? 😂

In the S1 finale, the season's recurring moments of proskynesis lead towards the Tadfield scene, in which we watch Crowley wind up forcibly prostrated before Satan and resisting a kiss with everything he's got. While he'd do that anyway, what's the biggest reason as to why he was in that moment? Aziraphale, right?

It's because Aziraphale is right there and this is all already more than horrible enough. Crowley does everything in his power to retain enough control to resist this kiss because he is absolutely not kissing the Earth Satan claims is his, in forced deference to him, with Aziraphale watching.

Poor Aziraphale can't do anything about this in the moment that it's happening. He can't go to Crowley without giving away that he's Crowley's partner. They've been terrified for a long time that Satan would kill Crowley if he found out about them and, based on what we've seen of how violent and dangerous Satan is, it doesn't seem like that fear is at all unfounded.

By S2, Crowley and Aziraphale are becoming a bit less of a secret but the people who they are letting in are ones they feel are trustworthy. None of them have any affiliation with Hell or Satan. The one person around them each a bit that does have affiliation with him-- Shax-- is the one they're both still attempting to fool.

The S2 mirror of the proskynesis/"kiss in the presence of" moment from 1.06 of Satan attacking Crowley in Tadfield and Crowley resisting the kiss in front of Aziraphale involves these same three characters again... but some aspects of it are-- as they would be with a mirror-- shifted around a little.

In 2.06, it's Crowley with a kiss again-- but, this time, it's Aziraphale that he's kissing. Instead of being the person who is watching the kiss be resisted, Aziraphale is the recipient of a kiss that Crowley is actually willing to give.

Aziraphale, like Crowley in 1.06, is mostly resisting the kiss. While Crowley pushed to resist it entirely in S1 for obvious reasons, Aziraphale isn't put off by the idea of kissing Crowley in general but, in S2, is resisting it as much as he's able to do so.

Why?

Because Aziraphale knows with almost complete certainty that it's Satan watching them through the window.

[liliewrites]

"MY CONVICTION"

a/n : hallo! part 3 of the worship series, and i am glad to announce that this series was a success!! yay, now that it's done. i hope you all look forward to my next one about to be released next week:)) thank u for readinggg hihi:)) again, big thanks to haddy for editinggg:))

-warning/s ; somewhat religious motifs(?), NSFW, fingering. furina might be a little ooc.

-pairings/s ; furina x fem!reader

- where in; these three women worship you, their lover, when hundreds and thousands, even millions of followers would drop on their knees to ask for blessings, for mercy, for prayers - and yet for you, at your beck and call, they would do anything you ask as they kneel for you at the same time, as proof of their devotion to you.

(men and minors dni utc!)

”Mon amour.."

The Hydro Archon sighed happily as she stared at your sleeping face. The both of you lie on the bed you both shared, with her holding you in her arms. she tucked the strands of hair behind your ear for she cannot help but ponder, have you ever realized how dazzling you are? Oh, for every moment she spent with you, each one not only ingrained within her mind— but burned within her soul. How could she forget? No, for she cannot. With every script she reads, for every poem she recites, for every song that she sings, if it relates to love that she feels for you then she cannot help but yearn for you. If she was deemed the star of Fontaine, then you were the muse of her every work.

To the people of Fontaine, she is the god of splendor and justice and with it, a heavy burden comes along and hides itself beneath the flamboyant façade she puts on whenever she bears the title. To her lover however, she was no more than herself— none more than a woman in love. The only time that she can ever recognize herself, was not when she held Fontaine within her hands, but when you held her within your own. She knows that she has a duty to fulfill, a prophecy to honor, an oath to her people— but sometimes she cannot help but wish that things had gone a different path, where she could just be herself with you. She sighed wistfully, nuzzling her face in the crook of your neck as an unnerving feeling of longing sank into her chest. 

Unbeknownst to the Archon however, her actions caused you to slowly awaken. You don’t move for a while, trying to grasp your senses for a moment. She only realized that you were conscious when you wrapped your arms around her waist as you let out a giggle, feeling ticklish at her nuzzling her face in your neck. “Mon amour, what.. oh, oh! I'm sorry, did I wake you up?” she worriedly pulled away from you, a feeling of guilt for interrupting your slumber.

However, she’d be lying if she said she didn’t feel her heart flutter at your gorgeous smile. “It is fine, cheri, I… don’t mind.” You yawned, leaning in to kiss her cheek with a wide smile. Oh, Celestia, her fiancé was both adorable and handsome even with bed hair and tired, morning eyes. However, you cannot help but noticed the melancholic stare Furina bore upon you and it worried you. “Is there something troubling you, cheri?” You ask, raising your head from her chest to take a better look at her face. The Hydro Archon seems surprised that you had seen through her, but this was not the first time you've had done so, you know her too well. Besides Neuvilette, it was only ever you who came to know her without her famous façade. She looked away, avoiding your gaze, not knowing exactly what words to say to you for she cannot admit her troubles.

You no longer press on, no longer wanting to make her feel uncomfortable or sad. So you leaned in to kiss her, causing her to be surprised once more but with a flustered expression this time. “Mon amour?” she asked, confused from your sudden shift of mood. You smiled at her, said no more, before pulling her in for a kiss. As you pulled away however, you couldn’t help laughing at the look on her face. Her cheeks a maddening red, her gaze flustered as she lay beneath you. “My Furina, you look so... baffled.” You chuckled, sitting up on top of her.

Furina was a woman of many words, but at the sight of you, it was as if she had became illiterate. It frustrated her that she couldn't find the right word to properly describe you, for your radiance was far more beyond than simple words. All you were doing was sitting on her lap with a messy button on, and you had already taken her breath away. “Mon amour...you look so...” her words laced with an obvious ache you couldn’t find the reason of, but she pulled you in to press her lips against yours and you could feel the yearning from her kiss.

Needy kisses turned into needy hands, the Archon’s hands slowly leaving your neck to settle on your thighs at her sides. you could feel her gentle caresses become needy grips, hands full of flesh, wanting to feel more of you as her sighs turned into whimpers. “Mon amour…I need you.. .” she whined against your lips, breathing heavily as you pulled away a little. 

“Then take me, ma cheri..” you mumbled, making Furina’s mind go hazy with the thought of only you. She looked at you with an enamored stare with her hands fumbling with the buttons of your button up. She was way too focused on her newfound intention to please you to feel embarrassed, but you found her trembling hands extremely adorable.

With your front exposed, her eyes froze at the sight of your bare body. Oh, gorgeous, gorgeous you. She immediately leaned in to press her lips against your tummy, loving the taste of your skin. Her hand went in to grab and squeeze your hips, completely addicted to the warmth that radiated from the fibers of your every being. You, you, you– her heart only wanted you and she could only hope that you wanted her the same way too. 

Whimpers left her mouth as she continued to kissed and sucked on your body, too lost in the feeling of drowning in the feeling of you to realize how your moans were slowly increasing in volume. Her lips met your ample chest, a gentle kiss. “Mon amour, I want to…  I want to hear from you, please?” She pleaded, looking up at you with pleading eyes that bore into you, making you unable to say no. You answered her question with your hands finding its way around her neck, hands pressed against her nape with your fingers tangled in her hair.

With your approval, Furina had let herself loose with her desire to please you and abandoned all restraint from doing so. Her hand moved to caress your lower back, pulling you in closer to her as if she wanted you to melt into her. Her mind was only filled with you, the sounds you make and how you shiver with every touch of her hand. Gently, gently, she thought, you were none but a gentle briar to her. She felt as if you’d fall apart with one wrong touch and that was against the best of her wishes. She only wanted to make love to you, to make you feel the enamor that you’d sparked within her. Right now, she was not a god, but a slave to your rapture.

Her hand crept up to the middle of your thighs, softly kneading at your flesh. “Mon amour, if only you could witness the sight you behold, then you’d come to know the desperation that you had invoked in me.” She mumbled, not louder than a whisper as she slid her hand higher. Your breath hitching, eyes closing, it made Furina question whatever had she done that deserved to see such breathtaking wonders. Her hands tugged off your panties, wanting to uncover more of you despite the fact that you had shown more than she deserved to see. Her heart fluttered at the sight, your slick dripping down your thighs and onto her hand. To Furina, it was a blessing endowed upon her by Celestia above- no, for you were the blessing itself granted to her by Celestia, and she was more than honored to call you as hers, and to have been the object of your affection.

As if to test the waters, not wanting to startle you, she gently ran a finger along your slit. her actions caused you to let out a shaky breath, tickling against Furina’s skin. “Ma cheri, please- don’t tease...” You moaned in a pleading tone and Furina's heart couldn’t handle the sound of your begging, no, she didn’t want that. She wanted to hear your blessed sounds of pleasure, to have it ringing in her ears endlessly as you writhe above her. 

“Mon amour, I’m not trying to tease...” She whined, sounding like a dejected puppy. Her fingers repeated the same motions from earlier, before finally complying to your wishes. 

“See? I’m doing my best to please you…” She mumbled in a whiny tone, wanting to prove to you her words, ending it with a kiss to your shoulder. She pulled you into her, as close as she could, as two of her fingers moved in to slowly feel your walls constricting around her. she couldn’t help but let out a whine of her own at your moans, wanting and needing more of it— of you and the blessing of witnessing you. 

“Mon amour, you sound so beautiful..” she whispers against your shoulder, kissing it once more as her fingers increased its speed, trying to find the perfect pace to make you feel the same delirium she feels just from looking at you. 

“Ma cheri- you’re doing great, more… more...” You pleaded in her ear, your hips bucking as you found yourself wanting more and more of Furina. Furina happily complied, absolutely delighted to see you immersing yourself in the pleasure. Her fingers pressed harder against the spots she knew you loved the most, her fingers settling on the pace that she was sure to drive you crazy.

Endless moans of her name spilled from your mouth, one after another, Furina.. Furina.. Furina, you kept repeating in her ear and with every mention of her name, you held onto Furina tighter and tighter. You toppled on top of her, completely leaning into her with your face buried into her neck as you felt your whole body weaken and tremble with pleasure, much to the Archon’s delight. 

“Furina- ma cheri.. I can't- I'm..”

You couldn’t even find it in you to form proper words, so Furina pressed reassuring kisses upon the crown of your head, as she was unable to kiss your face even if she wanted to. Your nails were digging into her back and she could feel it through her clothes. A little whimper leaked out her mouth but her movements didn’t falter. She kept going, wanting to see you reach your high and be immersed in it.

A loud cry left your lips as you completely reached your high, you could feel your insides throbbed around Furina’s fingers and she could feel it too. She watched you as you basked in your own euphoria, her mind capturing this moment like an eternal painting in her memories. You were far too out of this world, and as your follower, her belief in your enchanting allure remains firm and constant within her mind.

As you tried to catch your breath, Furina held you in her arms as she did before. It was only then when she realized that it was raining outside and as the fervor melted away, she could feel the cold air within the room and brush against her skin. Upon knowing that you were barely wearing anything, she immediately pulled the covers upon the both of you, cradling you against her to keep you warm. 

“Mon amour, are you feeling cold?” she asks, concerned about your well being. You let out a content sigh, not budging even a little bit, just wanting to sink into her warmth. 

“Ma cheri, if I may ask now, what was it that was troubling you?” You gently pry, but Furina knows she can’t tell. instead, she presses a soft kiss to your cheek. 

“Nothing, mon amour. when the deed has been done, I promise you...” She whispered lovingly into your ears, closing her eyes as she relished in her warmth- fearing that she may never once again, but she hopes that wouldn’t be the case. “I will find my way back to you, always. Mon cheri, even if Celestia forbids it.”

You no longer questioned her words, instead choosing to trust your lover. To the people of Fontaine, she was their god, their savior— you knew that she held many secrets of her own, a world that you cannot pry into yet to you, she was your lover. She was your Furina, the silly girl you had come to love and wished to hold. The woman on stage that you wished to kiss and yearn to be with for as long as you could. Alas, you couldn’t help but sigh at the implications of her words. “If you say so, ma cheri. I love you.” You answer and Furina feels as if all her burdens were taken away with your words. 

“Thank you for understanding, mon amour. I love you too…” She replied and she does love you- she really does. All she had to do now was find a way to fulfill the promise to her people so she could also fulfill her promise to you, wanting to experience more of life's greatest joys beside the woman she loves most.

[inkofthebrain]

Imperial

[Paul Atreides x F!Reader] 2523 words

Paul Atreides, Duke of Arakkis, takes the hand of the Emperor’s eldest daughter for the throne, yet neither are pleased. They know they must learn to be civil, but what will it cost them…

Tags: post-Dune 2, strays from book canon, no use of y/n, dune typical everything, Corinno!Reader, slow burn, enemies to lovers kind of? (More strangers to lovers tbh) ARRANGED MARRIAGE TROPE, not proofread LOL

Warnings: Dune typical themes, motifs, and actions. Jessica being Jessica once more….

A/n: Once again, we will see more Paul soon. Just trust. I hope you guys enjoy!

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Dune masterlist

Four———

[Six days until the ceremony]

It is always is the same recurrent nightmare.

Trapped in the desert once more, surrounded by dunes. The sky is an angry crimson, and the temperature is impossibly hot. There is a storm growing on the horizon, and the wind is whipping up the sand into your eyes.

You are filled with a growing sense of hysteria, as you are overwhelmed by the burning heat and the constant bombardment of sand.

It grows darker, and the storm grows in intensity. You start to feel frantic, your breathing heavy, your heart pounding in your chest. A thunderous, booming voice fills your mind.

"Fear is the mind-killer," it whispered, "Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration.”

The sand whipping around you begins to feel like glass, slicing away at you.

“I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me.”

A wave of pure terror washes over you, a feeling of doom and impending doom growing stronger.

“And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.”

Just as you think you can't handle it anymore, you jolt awake. You eyes adjust to the light, and you begin to make out the figure who had awoken you, standing above.

“Irulan?” You question as she begins to take a few steps back from you bedside as you swiftly began to sit up.

Her ceremonial Bene Geserit attire immediately caused chill to run down your spine. She stands near your doorway, you could barely make out the cold, emotionless look on her face through the thick black veil.

"It is time to meet with Reverend Mother Jessica... come, let us be quick."

You shoot up in bed and instantly start pummeling questions at her. Why is she here? Where is father? Has something happened?

She avoids your questions, seemingly aware of your growing frustration and confusion. She speaks in a flat, emotionless tone, with no hint of emotion or explanation.

“Come”

She leads you out of your room, walking down the hallway and taking you to the library. She is silent, the only sound coming from her is her footsteps echoing lightly off the tiled floors as you make your way to the library.

You can feel your blood rushing through your entire body, anxiety follows.

As you stop outside the room your sister turns to you and takes your hands and squeezing them lightly. “You must obey the mother, sister, please.” Before you can say a word she shoves you into the room.

Standing opposite you is Jessica Atreides, dark black robe and tight black veil covering her face, the only glimpse of her being the blue gleam from her eyes.

Once the door closes, you speak “I demand to know what is going on.” Your voice is stern and booms through the empty library.

“The beginnings of the truth” she says coldly. "Now, come here," she gestures for you to move closer to her.

You silently walk towards her, heart pounding out of your chest as Jessica’s demeanor becomes harder, and her tone becomes sharper.

"Kneel. Show respect and obedience. You must prove your willingness."

“Prove my willingness?” You question

“Silence!”

Her gaze remains steadily on you, demanding your submission. She moves her right hand revealing a box. As you kneel down in front of jessica, your eyes fixate on the box she has just uncovered.

“Put your hand in the box”

Your heart pounds in your chest, your mind racing with questions. What does this mean? What will happen when you put your hand in the box?

As you extend your hand towards the box, suddenly Jessica thrusts the gom jabbar towards your neck, holding it firmly against your skin.

“An animal caught in a trap will naw off its own leg. What will you do? Resist your impulses? Or die like an animal?” She says.

The words hit you like a blow, a cold chill running down your spine. You realize that the test is about more than just physical pain; It's about the mind and the strength to resist the instincts of self-preservation.

You take a deep breath, forcing yourself to remain still and resist the urge to pull away from the gom jabbar at your neck. You look up at jessica, your expression defiant but determined.

Slowly, with nervous determination, you place your hand into the box. Suddenly, a searing hot, sharp pain washes over you, causing you to flinch and cry out in pain.

With each moment, the pain grows more intense, as if a molten fire is spreading from your hand to every nerve ending of your body. The agony is overwhelming, and it feels like a thousand knives are piercing your flesh. It is beyond anything you could have imagined, and your resolve is tested to the limit.

Tears stream down your face, and your breathing becomes shallow and rapid. You feel the blood pulse in your ears as the pain courses through you. Yet, despite the overwhelming pain, you find a deep, powerful, almost hypnotic focus. The gom jabbar at your throat now feels like a caress compared to the excruciating agony in your hand. Your entire awareness is concentrated on the pain, your world narrowed down to this single, burning sensation.

Just as suddenly as the pain started, it begins to subside. the intensity gradually lessens, until eventually, The pain is gone.

You look up at jessica, your eyes wide and tearful. You see a sense of pride in her eyes, and a small smile on her lips. "You did it," she murmurs softly, her gaze steady on you. "You passed the test."

As you stand before Jessica, your gaze is steady, but your expression is sullen. Despite your success in enduring the box, you are filled with anger and resentment. You know the pain and trauma you've endured, and all the deception that led you here.

You look at her, your eyes hard and defiant. "What now?" you demand, your voice tense and angry.

Her voice is low and soothing. "In order to prepare you for what will be, I must first help you remember what has been done before. I will reveal to you a secret that is known only to the most devout of the Bene Geserit, our sisterhood's most closely guarded mystery."

She continues speaking, her voice growing more intense with each word. "All this time since birth, your body has been shaped and trained to fulfill this moment. It has been honed, conditioned, and prepared for this specific purpose.

"From your early days of life, you were conditioned and trained by your mother and sister in our ways," She explains, "There has been a master plan set in motion, orchestrated by our sisterhood, in order to ensure that your union with paul will be the most significant one in history."

Jessica continues, still speaking calmly but with a sense of intensity underlining her words. "There is a prophecy, that a special individual, known as the Kwisatz Haderach, would be born. A male Bene Geserit.

We have been watching and manipulating circumstances to fulfill this prophecy for generations. Paul is the one who was foretold, and he will be able to bring about the desired outcome we so greatly need."

You are left standing in silence, feeling overwhelmed by the weight of all the information that has just been presented to you. As jessica speaks, it is clear that she fully believes in the prophecy and its implications.

Fate is something you never believed in, yet as the wool that has been placed over your eyes starts to slip you realize—your fate has been decided centuries before your birth.

She looks at you, her face serious but understanding. "You will make the future bright for the imperium.”

jessica looks at you calmly, her demeanor unfazed by your anger. "Now you will continue your preparation for the marriage to Paul. There is much more to do, and you must be ready to fulfill your purpose."

"I understand you must feel betrayed," she adds, her tone softer now, "but understand that what we are doing is for the greater good of the Imperium."

For all her soft words, you cannot shake the feeling of betrayal. You know that you have been pushed and manipulated into this role, and you cannot help but feel resentment and anger toward those who have done this to you.

You take a deep breath, trying to regain control of your emotions. "What happens when paul and i marry?" you ask, your tone cautious.

“We leave for Arrakis.”

You feel a sense of dread wash over you at the mention of the desert planet arrakis. You know that the journey there will be perilous, and that the environment there is harsh and unforgiving. Nonetheless, you nod, determined to face whatever challenges lie ahead.

"And what comes after that?" you ask, pressing for more details.

"Once we arrive, you will play a crucial role in the upcoming war with the house harkonnen," Jessica explains. "You must learn the ways of the freemen, and help Paul navigate the treacherous political landscape. he needs your support now more than ever."

You mull over her words, feeling a sense of burden and responsibility settling down upon you. This is not what you had expected or wanted, but you know you have no choice in the matter.

Jessica looks at you intently, as if reading your thoughts. "You may not have chosen this fate,” she says quietly. "but it is yours nonetheless. And you will find that the path you follow is one of great honor and significance."

You nod silently, your mind still swirling with confusion and resentment.

"For now, you should rest," Jessica says, her voice gentle. "You have faced great trials today, and you need time to recover and process all that has happened."

You feel relieved by her offer. Yes, you think, a chance to clear your mind and gather your thoughts would be welcome. You nod weakly in agreement, and jessica gives you a small, reassuring smile. "Goodnight, my dear. we shall speak again soon."

You turn your head as you hear the door open. you look up in surprise as irulan enters the room. A pang of anxiety and unease washes over you as you wonder why she has come. Was she privy to all that has been said and done here?

Irulan gazes at you with a cool, unreadable expression, her demeanor giving away nothing. Her presence makes you feel on edge, as if she is both an ally and an enemy at once. You wait in anticipation for her to speak, your mind swirling with questions and suspicions.

“I shall walk you back to your room, sister” she says

You look at her hesitantly, not entirely sure if you trust her. But you know that you have no reason not to go with her, and you feel too exhausted to protest. You nod silently, signaling your assent, and together, you leave the room with her.

As you walk side by side, Irulan is silent for a long moment. Finally, she speaks, her voice soft but confident. "You are a brave one, to have endured the box. few could ever imagine the pain of that test."

You look at her, unsure of how to respond. what was her purpose in telling you this? Was it a genuine compliment, or a veiled threat? You remain cautious, waiting for her to reveal her intent.

She continues, her eyes fixed straight ahead. "however, be warned, sister. There are many more trials ahead, and some may be even more difficult to bear."

You feel a chill run down your spine at her words. You had imagined that the test of pain was the worst that you would face, but now you realize that it was only the beginning.

“What is to happen to father after the wedding, do you know?”

Irulan glances at you, a small, barely perceptible smile playing at the corners of her mouth. "As i suspected," she murmurs, almost to herself.

Before you can respond, she continues. "you are concerned for father, i see. Rest assured, he will play a pivotal role in the events that loom on the horizon."

You feel a brief sense of relief at her words, but you cannot help but sense that they are not the full truth. why won't she just be straight with you?

"There is more to this, is there not?" you say, your voice tinged with skepticism. "I sense that you are withholding information from me. Why?"

Irulan pauses for a moment, her expression inscrutable. "You are wise, sister," she says finally. "Many pieces are still in motion, and i cannot reveal all at this moment. I promise you, in time, all will be made clear."

You study her face for a moment, searching for any sign of deception or falsehood. She maintains her composure, giving nothing away. you sigh, frustrated but resigned.

"Fine," you say, "I shall have to wait then. but I hope you will not keep me in the dark for much longer."

"Have no fear, sister," Irulan replies, her tone gentle yet firm. "I understand your desire for knowledge, but sometimes it is best to wait and observe. Trust in the process, and in due time, all will be made clear to you."

With that, she gives you a small nod, and you continue walking side by side in silence.

You feel uneasy as you reach your room, unsure of how to interpret irulan's words. Was she truly on your side, or did she have some ulterior motive? You decide to take her advice and wait for the full truth to come to light, and hope that it would be worth the wait.

"Thank you, Irulan," you say, turning to face her. "Your guidance, though cryptic, has been valuable."

She looks at you for a moment, then nods slightly. "goodnight, sister. sleep well."

You send her a warm smile as you stop outside your chambers. “I hope this is not our last encounter…” you say

Irulan gives you a small, enigmatic smile in return. "Fear not, sister. our paths will surely cross again."

With that, she turns and walks away, leaving you with a lingering sense of curiosity and uncertainty.

You enter your chambers, feeling both relieved and confused. you sit down on your bed, trying to make sense of the day's events. your mind is a swirl of emotions, from pain and fear to hope and determination.

You lay down, closing your eyes, but sleep does not come easily. Your mind is still racing, trying to process all that has happened. but eventually, fatigue wins over, and you drift off into an uneasy slumber. It is always the same nightmare.

———

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