#paul walking away from us into the desert

[firelilyfox]

Deadly Eyes

Dune: Paul Atreides x female reader

Warnings: se&ual harassment / angst / curses / hateful words / comfort

If someone means harm to the girl he loves, Paul won't hesitate

Words: 1k

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You stare at the men and women right in front of you. All of them were looking at you with the same emotions pictured in their faces. Disgust. Outrage. 

Today was the first day after Paul announced your relationship to his people. The Fremen welcomed you with open arms… well some of them at least. Your roots lies with none of the big houses. All you know about your family is, that they were travelers who never lived at the same place for more than a couple of years. You are one of the Lost Ones. But when Paul rescued you from being tortured by the brutal Harkonen a couple months ago, you never thought about traveling somewhere else again. Your people always praised that the soul is a free from wich never settles and never find the one and only home. Paul changed your way of thinking. With him you felt at home for the first time ever. 

„The Mahdi can’t be with someone who is lost“, one of the believers growled as you were passing by. All you wanted to do was taking a walk and exploring the hallways of the Sietch, one of the rocky formations what the Fremen call their home. And now you are standing in front of a hand full of believers who are talking bad about you. 

A old, wrinkly woman hisses. „You don’t belong here, Lost One.“ 

You look at her fully blue eyes. The same color your eyes have turned as an outcome to the effects of spice everywhere. „Please let me through. I don’t wish for trouble.“ 

Now a young man steps right in front of you. Too close to be comfortable with. You try to move and bring some distance between the two of you, but your back almost immediately hits the wall. Your chest tightens up. This feels like a cage. A cage of people who hate you. 

„But you are trouble, whore.“ He couldn’t have been more than five years older than you, but he was so intimidating that you wanted to flee before he would hurt you. You still are one of the Lost Ones. Their are no fighters. Your people staying alive because they run for dear life when problems appear. That’s why the Fremen always looked down on your kind. 

„All your people do, is stealing and living in the shadows. You are not worthy to be here. Your are not worthy to be with Muad’Dib“, he grabbed your neck with a tight grib. „But I’ll find some use for u, don’t you worry.“ 

The others looked away while he is dragging you to a shallow corner at the end of the hallway. Your screams got muffled by his greasy hand and silent tears filled your eyes. The back of your head hit the wall hard and your vision flickers for a moment. Fear crawling all over your body, followed by the tip of his knife. You’re trying to beg for him to stop, but all he does is giggling at your helplessness. 

„I will show you your worth and after that I will give your body to the desert. I will…“ 

A voice is shouting at the near distance. „Where is she?!“ The man fearlessly let’s go of you and hiding his knife. You fall down on your knees as Paul rushes around the corner. Gentle hands pulling you up and you begin to sob, hiding your face at his chest. 

„How dare you to touch her!“ Paul growls at the man who is now lowering his head in respect for his Duke. 

„I did not want to bring any disrespect to you, Mahdi. But this woman damages you reputation. She is not worthy to be …“ but Paul cuts him off. 

„She is equal to me. I am who I am today, because of her. How dare you to speak about her like that?“ His voice became dangerously silent and you could feel under your palms how tense his muscles were. As you look around you discover that people have stopped and watching the scene with wide eyes. 

You reach up to gently touch his cheek, so Paul would look at you. „I’m okay, Paul. Nothing happened. I’m unharmed.“ 

For a moment the coldness in his eyes vanished, but as he looked down at your neck and saw the bruises … he was ready to kill someone. Paul kisses your forehead and it feels like that he needed to do it just to calm himself down, before he would actually cut a throat. His grip around your waist thightens but not in a hurtful way. You never felt more protected as right here in is arms. 

Paul turns his head slowly. A deadly look on his face. The man kneeled down in fear of his punishment. „I will only say this once and for all. Who ever touches this woman and mean harm to her, will be sentenced to death. Without exceptions.“ He looks around, making eye contact with everyone who is watching. „Spread the word. I will personally kill everyone no matter if man or woman.“ 

The Fremen quickly leaving the place murmuring and chattering. The message was clear. If you break this rule, death by Muad’Dip will find you. 

„And for you“, Paul looked down at the man who tried to do unspeakable things to you. His voice full of dark rage. „If you ever come near her again or look at her even from afar, I’ll break your neck.“ He gave two other men a sign to carry him away. 

„I should have known that something like that might would happen“, Paul curses. „I’m so sorry. I should have never left you go alone.“ His eyes meet yours and the deep sorrow in them breaks your heart a little. 

„You couldn’t ever have guessed that. This isn’t your fault and it’s not your job to see something like that before it happens.“ 

Paul pulls you closer now that the two of you are alone. „But is is my job to protect you.“ 

„And you did.“ 

He leans his forehead against yours, taking a deep breath. His body is still tense but his touch is so gently. „I don’t want to imagine what could’ve happened if I weren’t be here on time … I couldn’t…“ his voice breaks. This is the side of him no one ever sees. The softness and the vulnerability. To everyone he is the fearless Muad’Dib. But to you he is Paul Atreides. The man who owns your heart. 

„Then don’t. You saved me. I am right here.“ To prove your point you get on your tiptoes and kiss him softly. Paul cups your face with his hands, holding you so close to him that nothing would have room in between. 

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Thank you for reading! Comments, ideas & reposts are very welcome <3

[nervoushottee]

With Want | Paul Atreides x Fem!Reader

Summary: Paul Atreides always had dreams. But from the very beginning, there was an invisible string pulling him to you.

Warnings: (MDNI 18+) Reader's secret name is Nuri, Set in Dune Part 2 , fingering, soulmate/destined pairing, shitty understanding of the Dune universe (only watched the first Dune move and only half of Dune part 2 whoopsie so I'm probably butchering some of the lore or whatever. Its fanfiction babes, I'm not writing this for accuracy),

Note: Hey hottees!! Y'all I'm not even finish watching Dune 2 and I started writing this. Timothee was doing something to me in this movieeee. Hope y'all enjoy!

*not edited at all babes*

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Paul Atreides had dreams. Both enchanting and horrifying dreams that would eat away at his mind and soul. And from the very beginning, he had always felt this small pull of a feeling. 

It was weirder than his dreams because even when he woke, he still felt it. Like it was a small tether, a light string in his heart and soul that hummed so softly. A light that was so dim that you would have to squint to see. 

After everything that happened with his father and being forced out of his home. The Fremen people found him and his mother. And that feeling grew stronger. He thought it was about the sayings of what his mother, the Bene Gesserit, would tell him but it felt more than that. 

It was odd, he could never see what it was in his dreams, or hear whispers of it like a name. But it was always that same enchanting feeling. So when Paul followed the Fremens, it continued to grow. By the time they walked deeper into the caves, it went from a strong pull to an overwhelming presence. 

And that’s when he saw you. 

“Who is she?” Paul asks Chani. The young woman already knew who Paul was asking for before she turned her head. A small smile engulfs on her face. “Nuri.”

Nuri.

Paul repeats your name to understand the feeling on his tongue. He hadn’t seen you before. Or maybe he did, he wasn’t too sure. The Fremen people covered their faces from the desert and a lot from what he was learning.

‘She moves like the wind.’ Paul says to himself as he watches you glide through the crowded room. Paul’s eyes meet yours briefly. Yours blue from your sclera to your irises. You stop moving through the crowd to stare at him. 

That feeling buzzed around him, stronger than ever within Paul as his eyes never leaving  yours. Your lips slowly turn up into a smile. Your eyes move towards Chani who still stands next to him, nodding in acknowledgement. Chani repeats the same gesture with a smile on her face, your gaze lingers back on Paul before a group of people walk in front of Paul’s view of you. By the time the people separate. You were gone. And the feeling suddenly fades from a sharp intensity to a dull buzz. 

“You should be careful around her Outworlder.” Chani says to him in a low tone as the common area starts to get a bit busy with people. The two of them sit down on a blanket as other where for food. 

“Was she with the group when you found me and my mother?” Paul asks, dodging the statement his acquaintance gave him. 

Chani shakes her head, chewing her food before speaking, “No. She doesn’t come with us all the time.”That intrigued Paul. He turns himself fully towards Chani, his bowl of food mixed with spice long forgotten . “So is she not a fighter?” 

“She is.” Chani says between chews, ”But she also walks with the Sayyadina.”

The Sayyadina. The Fremen’s Reverend Mother. 

“From what I’ve been told, her family was killed just after she was born. Stilgar took it upon himself to look after her. As she grew, the Sayyadina felt something within her. So Stilgar gave them the authority to let her walk with them. She is truly a great fighter, so when we need good fighters she will come with us when necessary. If not, she stays.” Chani continues. 

“A fighter and one that walks with the Sayyadina? Is that possible?” Paul questions. 

“To a nonbeliever? No. But to those who do? Yes. Stilgar believes in the old ways and in the faith. The Lisan al Gaib.” She says to him in a taunting tone which causes Paul to avert his eyes. The moment they came in, some shouted hatred towards him and his mother but others screamed in rejoice, calling him The Lisan al Gaib.

“Our people follow behind him, he is a good leader and his judgment is almost always right and trustworthy.” Chani finishes. 

Paul sits with the information he tells her, his hands slowly dipping in his bowl to start eating the food that was cold to touch but warm against his tongue. The heat of the spice warms his insides as it goes down his throat. “And what about you? What do you believe?”

”I don’t believe that you’re the Lisan al Gaib, that's for sure.” She chuckles. Paul feels his cheeks flush in embarrassment but urges her to continue. “I believe in our people. And she is a part of our people. And if she plays some part in whatever faith stories then so be it. But she has never faltered in training. She has never failed in the dessert and she is a good friend. She believes in our people as much as I do.”

After the words Chani said, Paul felt that she was over talking about you, more hungry and interested in the spice beneath her fingers. So Paul didn’t ask anymore. He ate his food in silence but his mind was racing with the thoughts of you. 

—— —— —— ——

The day had turned into night. Stilgar showed him and his mother the small room for them to sleep in for the time being until their fate was decided. A lot of them didn’t trust him and his mother, and for that Paul understood. 

His dreams woke him in the late night. Lifting his head from the makeshift pillow, he looks over to his mother who is still sound asleep. Her hand was placed on her lower stomach. 

‘Rest easy sister, I will be back.’ He says in his head before getting up and quietly leaving the room.

The caves are quiet at night. Besides from the guards that linger within the open spaces to protect those who rest. Paul doesn’t think it’s necessary but he avoids walking around where they are. Just in case to not stir any trouble. The people were calm at the moment since their fates were going to be decided soon enough. 

He walks to the small body of water his mother had told him about. The scared waters of the Fremens. The waters they would never touch. He sat there for a while. Enjoying the stilllness in the air and the calm look of the water. It reminded him of home. “I miss you father. I will take care of mother and sister.” He says to himself quietly. 

He wants to cry but reminds himself to save his water. “Don’t waste your tears on the dead” from what Stilgar told his mother. 

Paul sat still for a moment longer before he felt that pull again. That invisible string strong and tight as it pulls him to his feet. He absentmindedly walks into a dimly let hallway, his pulse quickening against his neck. His heat beating erratically against his chest as he turns the corner to see you. “You’re Nuri.” Paul states.

“You shouldn’t be out at night Paul Atriedes.” You say to him, your back towards him but he can hear the teasing smile within your words.

“I couldn’t sleep.” Paul explains to you simply, “And I made sure to walk where the guards can not see me.” The feeling nearly suffocates him as he walks toward you. 

“Ah.” You turn towards him, you’re dressed in almost the same comfortable linens as him. His a tan brown color and yours an off white. “You and your dreams.”

How did you know about that? He questions in his head, unconsciously taking another step towards you. You both now at arms length.

“I see you in my dreams.” Paul lies. 

“Do you?” You ask back, your tone sounds as if you know he’s lying. 

“No but I can feel you. In my dreams and out. And I don’t know what it is or what it means.” He explains. 

You hum in satisfaction as you slowly walk around him. Like a beast or a predator trapping its prey. “And what do you feel now?” 

He feels like his body is vibrating, His skin tingling and his veins jumping. His fingers buzzing as if he wants to reach out and touch you. He does what to touch you, he wants to feel your skin on his. “What do you feel?” Paul asks the question back to you.

You stop walking to stand behind him. The hairs on his neck stick out as he feels your body heat near him. Your lips slowly grazing his ear making his eyes flutter close. 

What the hell is happening to him?

“I feel like the spice on my tongue. I feel like the sand beneath my feet. I feel like the beauty you see in your dreams. I can feel you.” You whisper against him. 

Paul turns around to you, your bodies closer than ever. His lips inches towards yours as his flickers between your eyes and your lips. 

“You speak in tongues.” Paul whispers to you desperately.

“Shall I tell you in a way you understand?” You whisper against his lips. 

“Yes please.” he begs softly. 

And you don’t hesitate to put your lips on his. Paul moving quickly as his hands clasp softly against your cheeks. Moaning in the delight as he feels your hands glide against his chest, gripping his shirt. 

He feels you everywhere, but it isn’t overwhelming anymore. Now that he’s holding you and tasting you, your tongue glides against his. He feels a wave of warmth wash over him as his body and soul settle into the feeling of you. 

So warm and inviting. So enticing and serene. 

You push him towards a dark hidden spot in the hallway. Your bodies are engulfed in darkness but when you break apart for air, you can see him all the same. Paul moves you toward the wall, his body trapping you in as he kisses your neck. 

“I’ve dreamt of you, Paul Atreides. I’ve seen you in my dreams, felt you lingering in my mind, heart and soul.” You say to him breathly. Moaning quietly as you feel his tongue glide against your neck. Your guide his hand to touch your breast, causing Paul to move away from your neck and look into your eyes. 

‘So beautiful.’ Paul thought. He brings his other hand on your cheek and kisses you hungrily. Squeezing your breast, feeling the weight of it in the palm of his hand.His hand glides to let your nipple slip in between his fingers as he squeezes.“I want to dream of you. I want to see you in my dreams, want to hear your voice call my name.” he mutters to you in between kisses.

When you break away from his kiss, Paul starts to ask what’s wrong until he feels your hand on his and glides it up to your lips. You kiss his fingers individually as he stares at you in adoration and desire. You slowly slip his middle and ring finger into your mouth causing Paul to groan. His hips shifting upwards against you as he feels the wetness of your warm tongue glide against his fingers. He watches as you pull his fingers out of your mouth, his digits glistening wet. Your hands glide his now wet ones down and underneath your linen pants.

“Touch me and you will see me.” 

He lets his hand glide against you as is greeted by your wetness, causing you both to moan out in pleasure. You are sinking deeper into the wall and Paul sinking deeper into you. His fingers continue to glide there experimentally as you pull him back for a kiss. “Help me see.” Paul mutters desperately against you

. 

Your hands reach down in your lines to move his hand into the position you need for him to make you feel good. You mimic a small circular rotation with your fingers on the back of his hand that was still against you. Once Paul understands, he begins to move his fingers in the motion you instructed, making you moan against his lips. 

He pulls away to watch you. You looked more ethereal than any other being or spirit that was believed in all of Arrakis. Your head back against the mountain wall, your lips slightly open as you moan. Your hips moving against his fingers as if you’re chasing for pressure. Paul dips his head in the corner of your neck and kisses it feverishly as he applies more pressure in his movements. Causing you to hold on to shoulder and call out his name. Oh how he wanted you to say his name again.

Feeling a little confident he glides his fingers down, but keeps his them pressed against your swollen bud. He pushes his middle finger inside of you causing you to gasp. You hold onto his shoulder gripping his shirt as you breathe heavily. You drag his head from your neck to kiss him. With his finger going in and out of you at an agonizing slow pace, you kiss him sloppily. But Paul doesn’t seem to mind, he enjoys it. Humming against you with a smile. 

When you feel his ring finger follow in for a second is when you lose it. “Paul!” you say loudly. 

His tongue mingles with yours as he silences your cries. With the slow circling of his thumb against your clit and the way he pushes his fingers into you makes you clench against him. “Fuck.” he moans. 

You whine as you feel your orgasm growing inside of you. The feeling you both shared with one another makes you feel even more on edge as you grip Paul in anyway you can. You rapidly as you feel yourself getting close. “Pau-Paul -” you begin to tell him as such but the building pleasure doesn’t get you far. Paul places his other hand against your cheek, tilting your head to look up at him. His eyes hooded and his cheeks flushed. You feel his thumb brush against your bottom lip. 

“Let me see you.” 

His words are the final push that sends you over the edge. Paul kissing you to silence your cries, you mewling against his lips as his fingers never stop their learned rhythm. You shiver against his fingers, your body tingly and warm. He kisses your face from your cheeks, to your eyelids and everywhere in between as he waits for you to come down from your high. He whispers your name, making you flutter your eyes open to see Paul stare at you with want. 

“Show me again.”

[thealexandriaarchives]

I can't stop staring at Feyd-Rautha's walk here and what it implies about his fight with Paul now that I'm able to stop just comparing it to Timothy's killer body work matching it (or vice versa).

Villeneuve takes the book canon, that the Harkonnens took the Atredies's morbid heirlooms of an oil painting of grandfather's death and the bull's head with his blood still dried on his horns to hang above the arena as trophies to the next level: making Feyd-Rautha the victorious young matador with the guards dressed as bull-minotaurs, circling to play banderillos and sink banderillas into the backs of the Atredies bull if it gets too close before the final faena has Feyd-Rautha pulling his opponent past him in the close, intimate passes that show off his athleticism and skill before his false blade is exchanged for the one that will be used for the killing blow and oh my god there are whole schools of thought on coming forward to meet your opponent vs waiting for them and killing with a single blow to the heart and honoring the fight and if anyone who knows how to make gifsets wants make one about this to I'd LOVE to rant more about the breakdown of these two fights and how Feyd is 1001% Matador Machismo but my point to all of this is:

Look at that Sand.

Look at his feet dig deep and kick it up as he strides out into the heart of that arena. Is it a rhythmic walk? Oh yes. Confident. Powerful. In the book this will be his 100th arena kill as he comes of age. This is his natural habitat. Where he learned his skills, for us to parallel with what we saw for Paul in Part 1.

This matters, because it's one of the main premises for why the Fremen are so Good At Fighting. When everyone is trained to fight with shields (stun then slow) and bulky armor, and on flat, solid ground with lots of cover, it's easy to be fast and silent and terrifyingly effective against them. Gurney Halleck is shown to be one of the best fighters in the franchise and the film makes a point of showing how his (recognizable) footsteps are not suited to move quickly, lightly, and with stability on sand like they are on solid ground.

Only... Bullfighting rings aren't sandy. They're fairly hardpacked. Earth for the bull and Matador to maneuver in quickly. There is a layer of albero traditionally layered on top, a chunky yellow clay dirt that serves aesthetics but also absorbs blood quickly. The idea the sand may not be white because... With Giedi Prime who knows?! Is Fantastic.

Paul Muad'Dib became the only Atredies to be recognized as Fremen, to see his father's dream of Desert Power recognized, to fight as Fedaykin, to be recognized as the Mahdi, the One Who Points The Way, and it is made clear to us from the opening words of a Child's History of Muad'Dib that Arrakis was his Home, and yet every major one-on-one duel he had from Jamis to Feyd-Rautha was on solid ground, giving him an advantage that made him respected as a fighter among the Fedaykin right away as part of his training.

Feyd-Rautha was the one Harkonnen who may have learned combat primarily or even exclusively with sand beneath his feet, and he died on Arrakis on the polished stone floors of a palatial residence, still trying to play by Matador rules.

thank u for coming to my Ted Talk

[fishbonex]

For you to stay with me

Paul Atreides x fem!reader

Summary: Paul wants to keep you by his side no matter what the cost.

Word Count: 574

Warning: ANGST, possessive behavior, poisoning, escape attempt, abuse of power.

note: since it's Halloween, this story is inspired by a dialogue from Crimson Peak.

You walked aimlessly through the corridors of the Palace, your vision blurred by tears, your steps not so steady. You walked as fast as possible, trying to get as far away from him as possible. You wanted to summon a shai-hulud and head out into the desert, but you couldn't do that in your current state of health.

You tried to breathe properly, but instead you just sobbed, reality crashing down on you more severely with each passing minute. Some servants passed by you with worried or scared expressions, but they didn't say anything and just walked on.

You tried to walk faster but you felt dizzy, so you let out a groan of frustration and placed your hands on your knees, taking a deep breath. The moment was interrupted when two thin, slightly calloused hands held you and guided you to lean against a wall.

Paul.

He made you lean your back against the wall as you tried to free yourself. He held your hands tightly inside his, towards your chin. You were in such bad health that you hadn't even heard him approaching.

"Calm down, calm down, please." he spoke in a soft voice, which you now knew was just a facade.

You moaned weakly at the pain of the grip on your wrists and continued trying to free yourself uselessly, tears now flowing freely down your face. You let out a painful sob and felt your knees weaken.

"Let's talk, calm down." Paul speaks again and you turn tearful eyes to him.

"Talk? How can you ask me that?" you twist your wrists in a frustrated attempt to free yourself. "Let go of me!"

Paul was poisoning you. He knew you wouldn't accept being his concubine after he married Princess Irulan, he knew you would leave and might never see you again. He asked you for some time to talk a few weeks ago and you accepted after much insistence from him, but the conversation ended up being postponed and you remained in the Arrakis palace for longer.

Every time you thought about leaving, Paul found a way to distract you and make you change your mind, and when he started failing to convince you to stay, you started to feel really bad about your health. You felt dizzy, weak bones, some pain, so it was difficult to get to the desert to summon a sandworm.

You would suspect that it was due to the food or the environment, after all you have been used to being exposed to the spice throughout your life and being in an environment with almost no spice could have induced this effect. Well, that could be it, but wasn't.

You knew you shouldn't listen, but you arrived early at Paul's boardroom and overheard him talking to his mother, openly admitting that he had been poisoning you by putting the substance in your food and drink for weeks. He looked scared while he was telling you this, you tried to get out of there but you made noise and he heard you.

"Be reasonable." he begged while still holding your wrists tightly.

"You lied to me." you sniffed

"I did."

"You poisoned me!"

"I did."

"You told me you loved me!"

"I do." you looked into Paul’s pleading eyes. "I do." he repeated.

You tried to pull away, your wrists already sore from his grip, but you felt another dizziness and your consciousness slowly left you.

[effloradox]

picture me in the trees

Behold a quick Paul Atreides fic written whilst I rewatched Dune. This is potentially bridging the gap of me not writing for Timothée and me writing for his Wonka 😔✊️

Pairing: Paul Atreides x Betrothed!Reader

Word Count: 1k

There's a soft knock at your door. It had been silent in your room aside from your soft breathing and the occasional page turning from the book in your lap so the intrusion to your peace had caught your attention immediately. You waited for the door handle to turn, for one of the many servants to announce their presence before entering, and you're puzzled as to why whoever knocked has not announced their presence. It's peaked your curiosity though, and you rise off your bed, careful to place your bookmark back in its place.

"Hello?" It's almost eerily silent as you make your way towards the door. It's only when you're a few steps away from the door that you hear a voice from the corridor.

"It's Paul." Relief instantly floods your body. You hadn't expected to see him today, his father had encouraged him to attend some of the meetings he had arranged and the Lady Jessica had told you not to expect to see much of Paul for the first few weeks of your transition to Arrakis.

"You could have come in, you didn't have to wait." You know Paul will never heed your words. He's far too polite to walk into your room without asking your permission first, but you feel the need to tell him everything you find him at your chamber doors.

"I have a surprise for you."

"A surprise?" A quick scan of Paul doesn't show any sign of it being a physical surprise. His hands are clasped together in front of him and they seem to be empty. You look to his face to try and spot any sort of clue but his only response is to smile softly at you.

"Do you trust me?"

"You know I trust you." Paul's hands move from his front as one falls to his side. The other rises in front of you as he opens his hand to you.

"Allow me to put this on?" In his outstretched hand is a piece of silk. You know he means to use it as a blindfold on you and, whilst it sends a flicker of fear down your spine, you trust him so implicitly that it's all you can do to nod gently. He makes quick work of putting it on, being particularly careful when he ties it.

"It's not too tight is it?" You can't help but smile fondly at the concern in his tone. Even after years of friendship and a year of being publicly betrothed, Paul still treats you as though you are made of something fragile. It's sweet of him.

"Paul it's fine." You listen as he steps around you, one hand rising to rest on your waist. He's careful when he encourages you to move forwards, stopping you after a few steps to close the door behind you before continuing to guide you through the palace. If he had done so in your old home you would've known where he was taking you but as it was you were completely clueless as to where he might be guiding you to.

It's only after what feels like the hundredth left turn that you decide to speak. "How much further?"

"Not long now." You can hear the amusement in his voice when he replies to you. True to his word though, after another few turns he stops moving to open a door in front of you. Another few steps and you're inside a room with him closing the door behind you.

"Can I take the blindfold off?"

"You can." You're almost nervous to do so but your fingers find the knot on the back of your head and your quick to untie it. You're not sure what you expected to find when you took the blindfold off but a room full of plants was definitely not in the realm of possibility.

You'd accepted that your position in life as the betrothed of the son of a Duke meant that you would be relocated alongside Paul and the rest of House Atreides as the Emperor saw fit but you had taken the news of leaving Caladan hard.

Caladan was your home. It had been difficult moving from a planet with such a rich ecosystem to a desert planet like Arrakis. You had done so without complaint as was expected of you but it had lowered your spirits in recent weeks. You thought you'd managed to hide your discomfort well, but you should've known how observant Paul was when it came to your wellbeing.

You find tears welling up in your eyes as you take in the room in front of you. The room is full of lush greenery, with a variety of plants you both recognise and have never seen before. None of them could be native to the planet, it's a much too harsh environment to support any of the ferns and shrubs surrounding you. The only conclusion you can draw is that Paul had all these plants imported for you. The notion sends a wave of affection through you as you finally turn to face him.

"I know this transition has not been easy on you. I wanted to do something to ease your homesickness."

"You did all this for me?" Paul turns bashful for a moment as though it hadn't occurred to him how well this gesture would be taken.

"I care deeply for you. I know it was not my choice to bring us to this planet but I hold some responsibility for the impact it has had on you. I wanted to help in any way I could." You turn away from him for a moment and run your hand over the closest fern to you. The feeling of it makes you close your eyes as it takes you back to the days you spent in the forests on Caladan.

"How is it you always know what I need?"

"You are my betrothed. It is my duty to know what you need and provide it." You feel him approach you from behind as he takes one of your hands in his.

"Thank you, Paul." You squeeze his hand gently, smiling as he returns the gesture.

"You're welcome."

[necstasy]

implications of dark paul; implications of manipulation + the voice; riding; dacryphilia; lisan al-gaib paul; & PAUL ATREIDES MDNI 18+

it's no surprise that after drinking the water of life, paul atreides has become a different person.

harder, more rigid, more demanding. he sees the way more often than he just sees you. he hears the voices of those who came before him more often than he hears you. but anytime you try to walk away, when you attempt to leave him with the burden his capable shoulders should be able to carry alone, he turns his focus to you. he sees you. he hears you.

and it's good for a while. you two are good for a while.

until he falls back into the pattern.

all the while you're trying your best to be there for him. you're trying to satisfy all of his needs, even when he's detached from this world and on another one.

still, somehow he's receptive. his hips pushing up into your mouth even when his cobalt eyes are watching the ceiling of the tent for nothing in particular. his hand still buries into your hair, rough palms pressing into your skull until your nose is buried in his pubes, suffocating you with the faint scent of musk and a familiar burnt cinnamon. these are the times where he pleads that you be with him, whether he's here with you or not. when you'll climb onto his lap and sink down onto his cock which stands at half mast, softly riding him until he's hard within you. when you'll scratch at his shoulders, pull his hair, sloppily kiss his unreceptive lips—anything to try and get the attention you so desperately crave.

but paul is gone, burdened with visions of the way, distantly watching your breasts bounce with your effort through the haze of visions. sometimes, when you cry and plead for him to come back to you, he'll sink a hand between your thighs and rub your clit and you appreciate the one touch so much that you're letting loose without much warning.

then there are the times where he's here. and his presence is too much. he's too much. he forgets that while he is the supposed prophet, you're just you. with no part in a fabled prophecy, you carry just as much weight as the next fighter. you don't have whatever it is that paul has weighing him down, doubling the gravity of arrakis until he's too firm and still upon the desert. you also don’t have paul’s strength. his durability.

it's the times like those where he's slightly merciless, shrouding his insatiable desire and his almost forceful attitude with praises designed to placate you. designed to mislead you.

forcing his hips into yours with a little too much enthusiasm. he sends you up the cloth beneath your back each time, friction from the barely covered rocks rubbing against your back uncomfortably. your eyes sting, the feeling bleeding down into your nose and throat with a threat you don't want to come true. you can't waste your water like this, to do so would be shameful and disrespectful.

you’re sure that paul, the lisan al-gaib, doesn’t care. he wants what he wants, and you’re going to give it to him. even if he has to use the skills of the bene gesserit to make you do so.

[lowtaperfeyd]

hello :))) i would love a duncan idaho x reader imagine where reader is paul’s sister and duncan confesses his love for the reader before he leaves for arrakis on caladan!!! super fluff !

Shoulder to Shoulder

Duncan Idaho x AtreidesHalfSister!reader

author's note: Heyyyy!! I did take more of an angsty route, that's just how the creative juices were flowing. But, this has sizeable amounts of fluff inside.

(Not beta read: we die like feyd-rautha)

warnings: mentions of death and some angst

wc: 1,058

(Y/N) Atreides was the older half-sister to Paul. A daughter from Duke Leto’s previous political marriage. Whose mother died in childbirth. For the longest time before Paul and Lady Jessica, it was just Duke Leto Atreides and daughter, as well as heir, (Y/N). But once Paul was born, (Y/N) was pushed back and was just a thought in her father’s mind now. It’s easier to compare her to a ghost than a prominent member of the family. 

Duncan Idaho is not a man who was afraid of change. In fact he thrives for the unknown adventure that would persist when he went to Arrakis in a few weeks. But he is a man who hates leaving things undone. 

It was the day before Duncan would leave for Arrakis and (Y/N) was sitting in the study looking over some books and films about the desert wasteland, the new place where she would live. While doing this, she thought about Duncan Idaho. The swordmaster who has always been a prevalent thing in her and her brother's life. 

“Are you going to sit there and take it, Paul!” She cried out mockingly and giggled at him as he was sparring with Duncan Idaho. 

“I would be more likely to win if you didn't distract me!” Paul said, equally sarcastic. 

“No, no my lady,” Duncan responded with a laugh, “Your brother is really trying to defeat me.”

All of a sudden, (Y/N) heard a knock on the study door, shaking her out of the fond memory of her brother sparring against the swordmaster.  

“Who is it?” She said cautiously 

“It’s me.” The deep voice of Duncan echoed through the door, “May I come in, my lady?” 

“Yes, come in, Duncan.” She said as she moved her books, clearing off more of a space for Duncan to sit in the chair opposite her. 

“I know Paul said that you were trying to learn as much as possible about Arrakis,” The swordmaster said as he looked around at all her books and papers, “But I did not expect to see you buried in them. Especially at this hour. It’s almost midnight, you need to go to bed.” 

“I’m not a child anymore, Duncan,” (Y/N) said while rubbing her forehead, “I can handle staying up late.” 

“Really,” Duncan said sarcastically, “‘cause if I recall just last week I found you asleep at the breakfast table because of the same events which are going on now. Unless that was not you, my lady?” He continued with the lighthearted teasing as he went to sit in the plush armchair at the other side of the table.

“That was an accident,” (Y/N) defended, “I didn’t mean to.” 

She let out a long, tired sigh. Her shoulders sagged when she buried her face into her arms on the table. And small tears welled up in her eyes. 

Duncan immediately picked up on her sadness. He didn’t like seeing the woman he loved in distress. But, he could never tell her that. 

“Hey,” He said gently while putting on a calloused yet soft hand on her forearm, “What’s going on?” The concern in his eyes was palpable when he laid them on (Y/N). 

“It’s nothing,” she said while lifting her head from her arms, “just something my brother mentioned.” 

With his other hand, he used his thumb to gently brush away the tear that was cascading off her face. 

“It’s obviously not nothing if you’re crying about it. What did he say?” He probed carefully.

(Y/N) got out of her chair and walked over to the window. The window overlooked the cliff sides and ocean of Caladan. With the night sky shining from the stars. 

“He said that something bad would happen on Arrakis…” She said, her voice barely above a whisper. 

“Nothing bad is going to happen on Arrakis,” Duncan reassured her, “that's why they are sending me tomorrow. To scout out the place and hopefully find the Fremen.” He walked over to stand next to her by the window, shoulder to shoulder. 

“I know, Duncan,” She said, still unconvinced. “what if you died?” (Y/N) said while looking at him. 

Duncan turned his body so he could see her fully. He took his hands and gently took her face into them. His affection provided a type of safety and assurance that neither shield could do or money could buy. 

“Why would I choose to die when I know you’re on your way to see me again,” 

“Duncan-” She interrupted. 

“Nope, let me finish,” He told her, “you are the most wonderful person on this planet. And that would continue to be true on any planet you went to. I would not die on Arrakis before you got there.”   

“I know but what if-” She tried to say before Duncan kissed her passionately. 

The kiss was fiery, smooth, everything and more than (Y/N) had imagined. It encapsulated the emotions that they both felt for each other. The bond built by love they hadn't been able to share with each other before now. If any member of court saw this kiss they would be blushing several shades of red.

Duncan pulled away from the kiss to see a frazzled and dazed (Y/N) Atreides. Whose lips were slightly swollen from kissing. With his hands still on her face. 

“I love you, my lady,” The swordmaster said, “and I would not let anything bad happen to you or myself on Arrakis. Do you understand now?” 

(Y/N) looked at him in the eyes and even though it felt like a dream, she understood what he was saying. A smile took her face as she said, 

“I love you too. ” 

“Good,” He said before placing a gentle kiss on her forehead, “now go to bed. I don’t want to see you with your pretty head in a grapefruit later.” He whispered playfully. 

“Okay, goodnight.” She said to him, softly. As he began to walk to the exit of the study. 

“Goodnight my lady, I’ll see you soon” 

The only person who really saw her was the swordmaster, Duncan Idaho. He was the only one who could break away the exterior of her. He did it with such care and kindness that it was impossible to not feel deep emotion for him. 

[hannibals-favourite-meal]

.⋆｡Oasis｡⋆.

Stilgar x plus size reader

When the sand is still and the sun has set, you reflect on what has become of your life but there is someone unexpected who wishes to show you how valued you truly are

Warnings: some Dune 2 spoilers but nothing too major, suicidal thoughts, self-hatred, fluff, love confessions, hope , mentions of death and pregnancy

WC: 1.1k

Minors DNI

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

You doubted that you would ever get used to the harshness of Arrakis. The heat and the perpetual dryness were a constant reminder about how far from home you really were but your duty was not to your own comfort, it was to your Lady Jessica. You followed her from the drowned planet of Caladin all the way here, protecting her and her son, as well as the unborn child within her. 

The Fremen looked down on you, even after Jessica was named Reverend Mother and Paul became Muad'Dib, you were still the outsider, the one whose eyes had yet to be stained by the Spice. You got used to eating, sleeping and walking alone, the sand beneath your feet becoming the only thing you could count on. You trailed behind everyone else, they called you a waste of water and there were times that you couldn’t help but agree. You could not fight, nor harvest Spice, you were raised and trained to be a lady’s maid, destined to spend your days in the shadows observing the world around you as life passed you by.

You often wondered why Stilgar had fought so hard for you to stay with the Fremen when you had nothing to offer them. Even Lady Jessica couldn’t find a use for you anymore. 

The moonlight cast a blue glow over the mountainous sand dunes and you could almost imagine that they were the ocean waves of your home planet. The camp was quiet, everyone having retired for the night an hour before yet you remained awake, deep in thought. No one would know you had gone until the morning, the wind would wash away your foot prints. You would give your water to the desert.

Just as you rose to your feet, a strong hand clamped down onto your shoulder, keeping you in place. “Why are you not resting Suhl?” Stilgar’s voice was quiet but it still held such power over you. You turned slowly in his hold to face him, yet he did not release your shoulder. His blue eyes shone like gems in the moonlight, making your heart jump and flutter. 

“Forgive me for worrying you, I found that I couldn’t sleep.” You bowed your head. Stilgar tutted softly and hooked a finger beneath your chin, guiding your eyes back to his. His thick brows were pinched in confusion though his expression remained soft, far softer than you had seen him look at anyone else. He seemed doubtful of your excuse.

“How many times have I told you to come find me if you need something?” Your cheeks blazed with the heat of shame. Stilgar was a generous man, especially with those he cared for and inexplicably, he was almost too giving when it came to you. He gave you extra water when you had consumed yours too quickly, he showed you how to sand walk when your fear of the sand worms had mounted, he had even shared his tent with you on so many occasions that you had lost track of the number. 

His hand shifted to your soft cheek, his calloused palm from a lifetime of fighting a stark reminder that you were not made for this life, this planet. “I can see that is not all that worries you Suhl. Tell me what troubles are clouding your mind.” You attempted to swallow down the thick lump trapped in your throat but when the older Fremen let his free hand wander to your lower back, his thumb gently rubbing the base of your spine, you choked on the tears you had not allowed yourself to shed.

“It is nothing.” You tried to deny and tug yourself away from the man that had been caring for you. Your eyes burned as he held you closer, a show of affection that you had never received before. He clicked his tongue at you, as if he were scolding a child.

“Suhl.” He cooed, dipping down to press his forehead to your own, the tips of your noses brushing together. You could no longer hold back.

The first tear that rolled down your full cheek shocked you both. It was quickly followed by another and another and another until they dripped down your chin and onto the loose white shirt Stilgar wore at night. You hiccuped and slumped into his strong chest. You clutched at his waist as you continued to sob but the Fremen, despite his constant insistence that absolutely no water could be wasted, gently rocked you back and forth, whispering comforting words into your hair, even if you couldn’t understand them.

“I shouldn’t be here. I should have been killed with the others when the Harkonnens. I am of no use to anyone and everyone knows it.” You pretend not to notice the way his muscles seize and he goes stiff in your arms, you wished to bask in his affections for as long as you could, before he too realised the truth.

His thumb ceased its movement and he slowly pried his chest away from yours. “Is that what you truly believe?” Your lack of an answer told him everything he needed to know.

He pulled you back into him, his thick arms wrapped tightly around your shoulders like he were fearful that you would suddenly dart away from him and into the desert where he could not follow you. Your eyes screwed shut as you curled into him. More tears stained his shirt but he did not flinch away from you.

“Do not waste your water on those who would not drink from you. You are better off crying for the dead.” A light breeze washed over the both of you, kicking up the sand around your feet. “You are not like us Suhl, you are soft where we are ruthless. It is true that you are not meant for this life but I would not have you take that light away from this world, not when I can keep you safe until this world is kind enough to let you bloom.” 

“Why?”

His chuckle made your head bounce against his sternum. “I thought it obvious. You are my Suhl.” A hand came up to lovingly cup the back of your head, urging you to look him in the eyes. “Suhl means peace. And that is what you are: my peace. And one day, when the sands have disappeared beneath a sea of green and Dune is free once more, I hope that I shall be yours too.”

You can’t help but smile which in turn makes Stilgar beam, the blue of his eyes shimmering with what you now realised was love. “Thank you Suhl.” Your pronunciation was clumsy and most certainly needed some practice but still, he squeezed the base of your skull and dipped down, pressing his lips to yours.

The sun would rise soon and you would be forced back into the real world and all its dangers, but for now, you basked in the moonlight, safe in his arms. Perhaps Arrakis held more than just pain.

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[m00nkissedlover]

・｡dream of me 💭

you've ordered: a slice of coffee cake! enjoy!

"i know it sounds super cliché, but you make me feel some type of way"

paul atreides x fem! freman! reader | word count: 1,166 words

summary: paul's been having rather...vivid dreams about you 💭

warnings: MDNI (everything's pretty mild, but i still want to put a warning just in case) mild spice, mild sexual themes, feminine terms used. let me know if i left anything out!

note: again, sorry if this sucks, i'm not the best at writing intimate scenes like this (even if it's vague) T-T also, this was not proofread-

you.

you were the reason why paul atreides hadn't gotten an adequate night's sleep in the past few weeks. every time he'd close his eyes, instead of seeing pitch black darkness or some other vision, he'd see you. he'd see your beautiful smile, your soft hair, your perfect body. the crazy part was he didn't even know you. paul swore he'd never met you in his life, that these dreams were the first time he'd seen someone like you, your bright blue eyes staring into his soul.

when he'd voiced his concerns about the dreams to his mother, lady jessica assured him that it was just that, a dream. but she knew deep down that sooner or later, you'd meet her son. and it seemed it would be sooner rather than later. with the sudden fall of house atreides, paul and his mother had to evacuate out to the desert, nothing with them except for the ring of house atreides that sat in paul's pocket.

that night, paul dreamt of you again. each dream would start off different: you two meeting in the desert, you two watching the sand dunes together, you teaching him to sandwalk properly, etc. but, every dream always had the same ending.

your lips pressed to his in a kiss so passionate, he could practically taste the spice on your tongue. you'd be sitting in the comfort of a tent, the smell of spice and overwhelming passion intensely pungent. your fingers would tangle into his curly brown hair, paul's hands moving from your waist to the hem of the shirt of your sleepwear. he'd pull away and mumble an ask of permission, the word "yes" leaving your lips before he'd even finished.

he'd see himself slowly peeling your sleepwear off of your body, his heart thudding in his chest. he'd practically feel you undressing him as well, your bodies molding together as one. he'd see everything after that in blurbs: the sound of your heavy breathing, the smell of your skin, the feeling of your fingertips caressing his back as he'd make love to you. then, just as things were getting to their peak, he'd wake up, covered in sweat, his heart going a mile a minute. just who was this girl that occupied his dreams every night?

when paul first saw you in person, he couldn't even speak. his mouth went dry and his hands got super sweaty as his heart thudded in his chest. you looked exactly like he'd dreamed: warm, sun-kissed skin, the prettiest hair, eyes as blue as the ocean, and that smile....the smile he'd see every night before he got an almost otherworldly taste of your lips.

you'd only spoken on a few occasions, your attraction to one another growing as the days and weeks passed. but then, he'd changed. he'd started avoiding you, making you think that he just didn't like you. each time you'd try to strike up conversation with him, he'd give you a one word answer and just walk off. after that, you started avoiding him too, walking right past him when he'd ask you something or completely ignoring him during sandworm rides.

enough was enough. one night, you wandered around the tents, finding that paul wasn't in his. lady jessica told you he'd gone to sit up on the dunes, something he'd been doing often since coming to live with the freman. you slowly made your way up the sand dune, sitting a few feet away from him as to not make him uncomfortable.

"did i do something to offend you?" you asked, drawing in the sand with your finger.

paul didn't answer at first, and just as you were about to get up and leave, you felt his fingers wrap around your wrist, pulling you back down next to him. he was so close, too close. you could smell the faint spice on him, your heart skipping a beat.

"no....you...didn't do anything."

"then why-"

"i've met you before," he blurted out, a look of confusion crossing your features.

he'd met you before?

"not literally. i've...had dreams, as you know. but recently," paul took a breath, glancing up to meet your crystal blue eyes.

"recently, they've all been about you....actually, that's a lie. i've been seeing you in my dreams since before we landed on arrakis."

your eyes widened a little, your body relaxing a bit. he'd been dreaming about you all this time.

"what do you see in these...dreams?" you asked. it was evident that your question had an interesting answer by the way paul glanced away from you for a second.

"i see you, laid out in front of me in all your glory. your eyes, it's as if they're...pulling me in. you lean in, then i lean in...then-" he trailed off, the pale skin of his cheeks turning a shade of red.

then it clicked, and you were blushing too.

"....you know...i'd be lying if i said i didn't develop feelings for you the first few weeks you were here..." you admitted, feeling a strange tinge in your chest. paul let go of your wrist, his hand slowly moving up to cup your cheek.

"do you want me to kiss you?" the question was so simple yet held so much weight.

your heart was beating in your ears, a shiver running down your spine as his breath hit your cheek.

"...yes....yes, i do. do you...want to kiss me?" you questioned, the look in his eyes making your knees go weak. good thing you were sitting.

"more than anything." he whispered before closing the gap between the two of you. the kiss started out soft and slow, soon taking a passionate turn.

it wasn't long before you were dragging paul through the sand dunes, back to the privacy of your tent. once the two of you were inside, paul was on you in an instant, pressing you against the makeshift mattress as he kissed you with newfound fervor. your fingers tangled into his hair, just like he'd dreamed of. but this was better than his dreams, by a thousandfold. passionate, breathy whispers, heavy breathing, and words of love and affection filled the air of the tent as the two of you melded together.

by the time it was all over, paul held you close, his face buried into your neck as he caught his breath. you breathed deeply, your free hand gently stroking his hair as he shifted to look up at you.

"you're definitely the girl of my dreams" he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the skin of your shoulder.

you felt your heart warm from his words, pressing a kiss to his forehead and letting your lips linger there for a moment.

"i love you, y/n~" paul said as his eyelids started to grow heavy.

you smiled softly, moving to nuzzle up to his chest. at that moment, you knew you'd forever love this caladanian for as long as you lived.

"i love you too, paul atreides~" 💭

© m00nkissedlover, 2024

[hiatuswhore]

Something For Your Mind II — p.a

♕ A/N: Sorry for taking so long to make this, it’s been sitting in my drafts for a while I just wasn’t satisfied with it. I’m still kinda not but I hope y’all like it. Please give me feedback, thanksss.

♕ SUMMARY: Your parents offered a simple explanation- Fremen with the gift of prescience. A secret amongst the sand.

♕ WORD COUNT: 2.5K

♕ WARNING: None

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STILGAR MADE NO ATTEMPT TO CONTINUE THE CONVERSATION OR WAIT FOR YOU. The journey back home was one of silence and brief exchanges. You would occasionally leave your thoughts to look up at your sharp-minded leader. Fools, all of us. You thought to yourself, all of the bickerings with your mother and uncomfortable dinners, for what? Stilgar knew, and you could only wonder who else smiled at you daily, feigning obliviousness.

"(Y/n)," Your mother greets you with a tight hug, her sigh in relief tickling your neck. You say nothing as she pulls away, and your father mimics her actions. Stilgar eyes you carefully, his blank expression masking whatever brews and boils beneath his surface.

"I'm going to lie down," You speak so low that you are confident your parents do not hear you. However, this fact does not stop you from walking away from the watchful eyes. You catch the tail end of your mother asking Stilgar what occurred on your travels. Will he tell them he knows?

He will not, and you know this, but still, the idea plagues your mind with an ever-present curiosity. By nightfall, you lay in the same position, painfully awake in the dead of night. Not a lick of sleep finding you. Stilgar still in your mind. If he knows of your abilities, what more does he know. How far does his knowledge really go, and what does that mean for our people, for my family?

You move from your bed, walking on the tips of your toes, the silence almost sickening. With one misstep, it seems as though your entire community will hear you. When you reach out to the sand, the night sky greets you with a cool breeze. You sit on the ground, the spice of the desert wafting up, tickling your skin. Out in the distance stretches what appears to be an endless desert, but you know out there are all your answers. The pull you feel makes your vision blur before the earth crashes, and the last tangible thing being the itch of the sand on the back of your neck.

When your eyes open again, you frown. Inside an aircraft, Paul sits with his head hanging. His hands bound behind him, cloth gagging him. Behind you, his mother holds her composure as she watches the Harkonnen men. One pilots the aircraft while the other stands idling behind him.

"Paul," You call out, glancing up. His eyes widen at the sight of you. Your eyebrows furrow at the lack of control. You did not intentionally enter this astral plane, yet all of Paul's mind now sits accessible to you. In this haze, only one thing sticks out to you, clear as day—they will die here.

The feeling of your heart in your throat makes your eyes water. Uncertain of what you can do, Paul's mother signs to him—her eyebrows pinched. After a few minutes, the aircraft comes to an idle, one Harkonnen moving to open the back while the other removes the cloth from Paul's mouth.

"You have to do something," Paul says, earning a look from the Harkonnen. He ignores it, looking directly at you. His mother follows his gaze where you stand to find an open space. You look at the Harkonnen, taking a deep breath, a sudden dizziness overtaking you. A cold feeling greets your skin before you move forward, thumb to his forehead and pointer finger to his temple.

"Sleep," You say, watching his eyes shoot open before all his mind contains floods you. A shudder shoots through your body as his crimes rip through you sharper than the edge of a sword. The sticky feeling of blood on your palms burns into your skin as if his memories are your own. A cry leaves your lips as the astral plane crumbles. Your eyes open, a loud scream leaving from the base of your chest and scratching up your windpipe. Thrashing around, you miss how your father holds you and your mother fails to ease your violent cries.

"You're okay! You're home, baby. You're home," Your mother holds a controlled tone as your father keeps your shaking to a minimum. A sob leaves you as your father plays with your hair rocking you back and forth. Grimacing, your eyes burning with a deep ferocity. You catch the slightest glimpse of Stilgar. He watches you wearing the same blank expression as before. The look you share feels like a secret, a joke of sorts that only the two of you understand.

Your mother brings you to bed, and no one dares to ask what happened. The icy moment of clarity sends a shudder rushing down your spine, so intense you flinch. Mother has been right all along. The confines of your room bring little solace, and the hours mesh together into a tireless loop.

When your mother returns in her hands, she carries hot tea and a slice of bread. You do not acknowledge her presence, so she settles on the edge of your bed instead. Her eyebrows pull as she contemplates her following words, a frown on her lips that does nothing to curb the terse silence.

"What happened?" She asks. The question's fair, but the line has blurred an unclear distinction between the Harkonnens psyche and your own. You open your mouth to speak, but nothing leaves you. How can one explain the Duke's son, his mother, or the aircraft?

It melts into nothing as the Harkonnen's memories sit in your brain, carrying them as your own. Your mother hovers her hand over your shin, and you stare at it with a downcast gaze. Looking up reveals the full scope of your tears, your head throbbing. Your mothers' eyes close for half a second as your arms wrap around her shoulders. She flinches first, her hands later snaking around you. The light squeeze she offers soothes your trembles.

"I—I have never seen such—malice, such disregard for life. Such brutality outside of self-defense," You sob into her shoulder as her hand moves up the base of your neck, supporting your head as if you were still a babe. Shifting down, you rest your head on her lap, and she rubs her hand across the top of your hair.

"I am so sorry you had to experience that, my love," She says. You do not see the confusion on her face as she tries to soothe you. Resembling the moments you would both share long before puberty arrived at your door.

"I'm sorry I did not listen to you, Mom. I just—" You pause at the crack of your voice, the burning sensation creeping up your throat with the watering of your eyes. Shaking your head, a dry chuckle leaves you in a poor attempt to mask your shakiness, "I really wanted my gift to mean something, but what I saw—Mom, I can't help anyone. Not when people like that are out there."

"Nonsense. You are special, my girl. You are destined for something amazing. No man nor Harkonnen is going to take that. Do you hear me?" She leans down by your ear with a warm tone. The small part of you nagging at your core, even in one of your most profound moments, still hiding a piece of yourself away from your mother. Closing your eyes, the room falls into a dark abyss, and your mind draws blanks for the first time in a long time.

When you wake from your dreamless slumber, silence becomes your companion. You make no attempt to move, the calm bringing a sense of solitude. Training with Chani, you silently thank her for not asking questions. The intense girl focuses solely on not allowing you to beat her. Neither of you yields, furthering the sparring match. Both your muscles ache, and you huff. You catch the faint sight of Stilgars suit. He moves so fast you barely see him. The lack of attention on Chani lands you on your back. She sweeps her leg at the floor before immediately aiming at you on the ground. You sigh before yielding. She has you.

Neither of you says a word as she offers her hand to help you from the ground. Jamis rushes by in the same direction as Stilgar, his stillsuit on—sword ready. Chani glances at you before you both rush to put on your stillsuits. You both move covertly as you find many of your people surrounding the Duke's son and his mother.

"—was there when you came to my father's council," Paul explains. Dirt marks his skin, and his mother wears deep bags beneath her eyes. Stilgar mocks Paul as though he did not immediately recognize him as Jamis grows bored of the conversation.

"Why are we waiting. Let's take their water," Jamis says, but Stilgar announces that no one can touch him. You frown at his words as whatever he refers to, you are not privy to the conversation.

"How can he be the Lisan's al-Gaib?"

"He hasn't proven himself."

"They are weaklings," Jamis unsheathes his sword disregarding the others as his eyes focus on Paul and his mother. You frown as your mother voices how she agrees with Jamis, "We cannot trust them, Stilgar."

"Enough!" Stilgar roars silencing your people before his eyes rest back on the remainder of the Atreides family. "That was a brave crossing they made in the path of Shai-Hulud. He does not speak or act like a weakling. Nor did his father."

"My thumper saved his life," Jamis points out, but Paul frowns before speaking. He keeps his tone level as his eyes scan your people, "My friend saved our lives. She is amongst your people."

"Go back to reason, Stilgar. He speaks of an impossible journey undetected by our people. He's not the one," Jamis says. Unaware of your abilities as your people doubt Paul, it eases everything that has worried your mind. Who is aware, and who is pretending? Paul's mother steps forward, voicing their alliance, if your people help them, they will help your people. A relatively simple transaction, in theory.

"What wealth can you offer beyond the water in your flesh?" Stilgar challenges, but you watch how Paul cannot remove his gaze from your father. You resemble him most while taking your mother's personality. "The boy is young. He may learn our ways. He may have sanctuary, but the woman is untrained and too old to learn."

Stilgar's words are clear, and your chest aches at the reality before you. Paul will not allow your people to kill his mother without a fight, and your people will give him that fight. Jamis goes for Lady Jessica; first, she maneuvers his arm away from her as she turns and reaches Stilgar, kicking out his back leg and bringing your leader to his knees. A knife at Stilgars throat, watching as Paul runs to the top of the split rock and aims down at your people. Closing your eyes, you focus on Paul before they open once more.

In the astral plane, you stand behind him as he aims down. Placing your hands on his shoulder, he flinches as you whisper, freeze.

Paul's eyes bounce frantically as he tries to catch sight of what constricts every muscle in his body at once. When you finally move into his view, he can only see your eyes as cloth hides most of your face.

"I am sorry, but my people come first," You whisper, looking down at Lady Jessica, who still holds your leader. Stilgar appears unfazed. He looks up at you without care. He eyes the blank space where no one but Paul can see. Yet Stilgar still finds a way to assert his awareness of your presence. You cannot hear what's said, but you release your hold as Stilgar cuts the top of his wrist, granting them countenance.

"(Y/n)," Paul whispers. Sheathing your knife, you stand, offering him a hand, which he takes. On his feet, Paul's hand lingers in your a second too long. You both freeze before swiftly pulling away.

"Only Stilgar and my parents know of my abilities. If you are to join my people, do know the secret of my capabilities keeps us all alive," You say, walking down the split rock without waiting for a response. Stilgar greets you both at the bottom of the rock. He commends your fast action before he turns to Paul.

"A gift. Give it to me. You will have your own maula pistol when you've earned it. Give it to me," Stilgar says as he places Chani in charge of Paul and Lady Jessica's entry of journeying with your people. You frown but say nothing as your mother joins your side. Jamis grimaces, his gaze unchanging. You take a cautious step toward him.

"Don't." You speak barely above a whisper. Your pointed stare only garners a chillingly calm glare.

Jamis speaks only for your ears. He stands rigid, "The boy clouds your judgment."

"Your anger clouds yours," You stand your ground, the air dry and thin as the attention shifts to the two of you.

"I will not have them," Jamis looks past you with a cold glare. One could mistake his stare for stoicism if not for the disdain that outlines his tone. He wants blood.

"Jamis, I have spoken. Be still," Stilgar's slow and gruff tone carries an authority you never dare to question. You look from Stilgar to Paul, uncertainty binding you both—bound by a nature beyond you.

"You talk like a leader. But the strongest leads, she bested you," Jamis speaks with a confidence you have only known Stilgar carry. You take a cautious step away from your mentor, your eyes locked on Stilgar. Stilgar does not move, his calm demeanor blanketing him, his ease clashing against the tension of Jamis's defiance. You can never grasp it, the pull that lingers around Stilgar, compelling all around him to listen. It's far more than his strength. You all know it, "I invoke the amtal."

Your eyes grow wide. Looking at Jamis, you open your mouth, but nothing leaves you. Stilgar's words do not reach you, the thumping in your chest ringing in your ears. Shifting your weight between your feet, you frown, the light trembling in your hand drawing your attention. None of it makes sense. Someone dies here today. You look down at your hand to find it still, yet a tremble still plagues you. Crossing your arms, you stand straight, wincing at the radiating pinch up your side as your body tenses.

You maintain a neutral stare, a glaze covering your eyes. A wall between your emotions and the others around you. The next few seconds blend in a disorienting haze. Paul shall be his mother's champion. You step back as he stares down at your mentor. The tremble of your hand still prevalent though your hand remains stagnant, heart beating in your ears at the speed of a sandworm though your chest reveals a steady rhythm.

"Poor thing, he looks terrified," Your father mutters, placing a hand on your shoulder. Your mother speaks with Jamis, insisting he revoke his challenge. A useless act, the challenge has been set—someone must die.

"Why do you say that?" You ask, looking at Paul, and your father speaks casually, "His eyes are glassy and cold while he keeps bouncing on the balls of his feet, heart probably racing. Then look at his hand. It's trembling."

[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.

———

Next chapter

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[animesmolbean]

Guardian of Light

(Male)

Author's Note: I'm finally back! Oh my God, it's been months since I last updated! I'm so sorry you all had to wait so long. School kept me very busy. I thought I would have time to update stories, but I had so much work this semester that I didn't have any time. But, now that I'm on break, I can upload more until I go back in the middle of January.

Story inspiration here

Hope you enjoy the chapter! ♥️

〰️

Chapter 8: Reunion

〰️

Paul's eyes slowly opened, coming out of his unconscious state. He took in his surroundings, seeing he was on a ship with the enemy.

Jessica was tied up to a chair, gagged.

“We will drop them in the desert. Let the worms have them.” A bald guy spoke in his language, the filthy Harkonnens that captured them.

Paul took notice of something else. (Your Name) wasn't on the ship as well.

‘Where is he? Is he alright? Is he alive?’ Many questions went through his head about his childhood best friend's whereabouts and wellbeing.

Paul directed his attention back to his mother, seeing her sign something, “The scarred one is deaf.”

The Ornithopter they were in started flying, the lights inside turning green. They were flown away from the ongoing destruction of the area.

After some time, one of the Harkonnens spoke, “I've never had a highborn. You?”

“Bene Gesserit ain't no highborn.” Another one replied.

“She is highborn enough for me.”

“Let's feed the kid to the worms. And give her a long goodbye.” The deaf one joined the conversation, looking at Jessica.

Paul glared at the male, “Don't you dare touch my mother.” He threatened in a low, dark voice.

At Paul's words, one of the Harkonnens slapped Paul. “Don't talk.” The deaf one demanded.

Paul looked down, breathing in deeply. Jessica saw what her son was trying to do, “Don't! You are not ready.” She signed to him frantically.

Paul exhaled, “Remove her gag.” He tried to use the Voice, but it came out normal, a stern growl, specifically. In response to this, the guy got up and hit him in the throat, making him gag. “Shut up.”

“Find the right pitch.” Jessica signed, getting worried for Paul's safety.

“We're far enough. Let's throw the boy out.” One of the Harkonnens spoke in their language, moving to open the back of the thropter.

Paul closed his eyes, moving his head down, and flexed his jaw, concentrating hard.

The same Harkonnen came up to him, pushing harshly against his seat, and Paul looked up suddenly,

“Remove her gag.”

He commanded using the Voice, his tone dark, raspy, and spine-chilling. Not like his normal voice at all.

The Harkonnen obeyed, and in a trance, went over to Jessica and removed the gag.

Her eyes stared into the Harkonnen before she spoke, using the Voice on him too,

“Kill him.” She gestured to the scarred Harkonnen, her voice sounding more threatening than Paul's.

The male did as he was told, walking up to him and slit his throat.

“Set us free.” Jessica ordered again, the glare on her face still present.

The Harkonnen did as he was told and started to cut the rope around Paul's ankles. Though, the other Harkonnen comes from the front of the ship, putting a hand over Jessica's mouth. He tried to speak to his comrade in his language to snap him out of the trance.

Jessica resisted and bit into the hand covering her mouth, making him groan out in pain. Meanwhile, Paul used this moment to use his now free legs to trip the Harkonnen in front of him.

The other Harkonnen was about to stab Jessica, but she acted faster, “Stop! Cut the rope.” She used the Voice again. He obeyed, setting her free.

“Give me the knife.” He did so, and Jessica stabbed the Harkonnen in the neck, killing instantly.

She got up from her chair, walked over, and grabbed the last Harkonnen by the neck, slitting his throat. She went over to her son and helped him out of the rest of his bindings.

“Your pitch was too forced.” Jessica scolded.

The two looked around for supplies. Paul found something familiar. “It's a fremkit.”

Then, they suddenly heard voices come out of the radio in the Ornithopter. They paused their search to listen. But then, the lights turned red, and the engine shut off.

“They've crippled the ship.”

The mother and son walked out on the ramp, fremkit on Paul's back, they ran across the sand.

Once they reach the top of a sand dune, they froze where they were. Arrakis had fallen. Smoke, fire, and destruction everywhere.

They looked out in silent shock.

Suddenly, they heard something. Footsteps. On alert, they looked around. Then, a voice rang out.

“Paul?! Lady Jessica?!”

Paul felt his heart beat faster with relief and excitement. “(Your Name).” He whispered.

Just as he said the name, (Your Name) came into view, running towards the sand dune Jessica and Paul were standing on.

(Your Name) saw them and felt tears well up in his eyes with happiness. He ran faster and climbed up the sand dune. Paul couldn't contain his relief, and he wrapped his arms around the boy tightly, burying his face into the crook of his neck.

“I thought I lost you.” He whimpered into (Your Name)'s neck.

(Your Name) rubbed his back up and down. “No way. Takes a lot more than this to keep me down. I wouldn't have stopped until I found you again.” He whispered to him.

Paul pulled away and pressed his forehead to his. “Oh, (Your Name).” He sighed, looking into his sapphire blue eyes with his hazel green eyes, making the biggest heart eyes at his proclamation.

Lady Jessica watched the childhood best friends reunite, a small smile on her face.

(Your Name) turned to look at Lady Jessica before smiling at the older woman. “I'm relieved you're alright too.” He told her.

“The same goes for you (Your Name).”

Paul then took in (Your Name)’s appearance. “What's with the outfit?” He asked. Jessica took this chance to look at the boy' s clothes, too, and her eyes widened in realization.

(Your Name) scratched the back of his neck shyly. He awkwardly laughed. “About that…”

Just then, they all heard something. Then, purplish black smoke appeared and disappeared, in its place, was the Heartless, along with some new Heartless that were dressed like desert bandits.

((Music: Kingdom Hearts 2 OST 44: Rowdy Rumble))

(Your Name) gasped and jumped in front of the two, his Keyblade out.

“The Heartless! Stay back, I'll take care of this.”

Paul stood there in confusion and surprise at the weapon she was holding. He felt Jessica grab his arms and pull him away from (Your Name).

“What's going on?” He asked, eyes still on his childhood best friend, who had started fighting the monsters.

“He has unlocked his power.” Jessica muttered.

“This is the Haris Aldaw’s power?”

“Yes. But, he is capable of much more than what he is showing. His powers are… otherworldly.”

Just then, a Heartless snuck up behind the mother and son and tried to strike them. The two gasped and backed away.

(Your Name) saw this and pointed his Keyblade at the Heartless. “Freeze!”

The Heartless was now frozen in place. With it immobilized, (Your Name) slashed at it, destroying it.

The mother and son watched in amazement as (Your Name) fought the Heartless, slashing and hitting, casting Blizzard spells at them until they disappeared, watching the pink crystal hearts float up into the air.

There were moments when the Heartless tried to attack them and (Your Name) would come to their rescue and protect them.

Eventually the last Heartless was defeated.

((Music ends here))

(Your Name) made his Keyblade disappear, and he looked at Paul and Jessica, who looked at him in shock.

“Unreal, huh?” The boy muttered.

“That was incredible.” Paul whispered, walking to the boy. “Are you alright?” He asked, placing a hand on (Your Name)'s face, cupping his cheek.

“I'm alright, Paul. How about you two?” He asked the son and mother.

They affirmed they were alright. Paul looked around, then out where the destruction laid. “Let's go.” He said, starting to walk away. Jessica took one more look out there before following Paul.

(Your Name) looked out towards the destruction with a frown. He bit his bottom lip to keep himself from crying. He took one more look before turning away and jogging to catch up with Paul and Jessica.

The three of them now were wandering the Arrakis desert.

Jessica on the left side of (Your Name) and Paul on the right. His left hand held his tightly as they walked along the sand dunes, away from what was once their home.

Taglist

@skeletonixsstuff

@babyqueen17

@ritosparty

[pythonees]

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ THREES A CROWD — paul & embry

WARNINGS: none

A/N: tumblr is a pos and is the most annoying platform to transfer text to like why is each paragraph it's own entity???? why is this still here take it away???????????

eleven ˖⋆࿐໋₊

For some reason, you found yourself buzzing with nervous energy, unable to sit still in the empty back seat. Your leg wouldn't stop bouncing, fingers picking at a frayed hem on your shirt. The ride back to Forks felt like it took forever, staring out at the trees as they zoomed by could only distract you for so long.

Both Embry and Paul were shooting you concerned looks every now and again, obviously sensing what they thought was discomfort. But how were you supposed to tell them that the thought of being alone with them was making your stomach do flips? That you could still feel the shape of their legs pressed against yours at Emily's dinning table, desperate for the contact as if you were lost in the desert, desperate for water.

They don't ask you what was wrong though, something you're grateful for as you will yourself to calm down. Settling yourself in for the drive home, you rest your head against the window as you listen to Paul and Embry talk about an upcoming patrol.

When they pull up to your house there isn't a single car in the driveway. Paul parks on the side of the road regardless, leaving room for your parents in the tiny driveway if they come back before they leave. From across the street, you can see the curtains in Candice's window fall into place, the dark maroon fabric a stark contrast to the light coloured brick of her house.

Looking at the rest of the house, you notice that every window has dark curtains of varying colours, all drawn tightly shut. It's odd that the curtains would be drawn while the sun was still out, and you can't help but eye the house suspiciously as you grab your bag and get out of the truck. Knowing the neighbourhood, she probably uses it as a way to keep herself out of the near daily gossip.

The walk into the house and up to your room is quiet, almost uncomfortably so. It's hard to tell how much of your emotions they're able to read through the connection you all share, but you hope they can't tell how flustered you are.

You easily fall into the same positions as the night before, comfortable but still lost in your own thoughts. You fiddle with your hands absently, trying and failing to get settled despite the comfort they radiate.

"Hey..." Embry starts, grabbing the controller from between you to pause the movie, "are you okay, you've been acting weird since the drive over."

Looking between the two boys, you smooth you hands against the top of your pants. Your heart hammers in your chest, but you will the racing to stop as you shuffle foreword, turning to face them both, though unable to look at either.

"I, uhh. I wanna kiss you," You say in a rush, voice quiet as you stumble over your words. You're staring down at your fidgeting hands, too embarrassed to try and meet their eyes. The boys are silent for a while, staring at you with blank faces. Just as the silence stretches on for too long, and you start to think that this was an awful, terrible mistake, Paul breaks the silence.

"Which one?"

You finally look up at that, noticing that both of them are desperately trying to keep any emotion from their faces. The hope still shines through though, and it makes you feel just a little bit better about your impulsive question.

"Both, if that's okay? I know we haven't really been together all that long, or have even talked about us dating, so I don't know if I'm over stepping, or—"

"Yeah, yes. It's more than okay," Embry cuts in, scooting forward so that he's sitting in front of you. He leaves enough room next to him as Paul does the same, "Who— who first?"

"Doesn't matter," You shrug, looking between the two as they look to each other. They seems to come to a decision, though, because Embry is leaning foreword, closing the already short distance between you.

He stops just short of kissing you, face so close that your noses brush at the slightest movement. His eyes dart between your own, and you realize that he's waiting for you to close the distance, to make the first move despite the fact that you asked for this. The thoughtful act makes your stomach flutter and your chest warm.

Leaning foreword, you brace one hand on the ground, the tips of your fingers brushing against Embrys, while the other cups the side of his face. Your lips brush faintly, barely even a kiss at all, but it's enough to bring a smile to your face. Letting your hand slip  into his warm hair, you press firmly against Embry, lips molding together perfectly.

The kiss is over far too soon, but as you pull back, you can still feel the shape of his lips against your own. It takes a moment for your eyes to flutter open, instantly spotting the pleased, soft smile on Embrys face.

You feel your face flush hot when you look to Paul, who is staring between you and Embry with hungry eyes. Swallowing around your nerves, you turn to Paul.

You let go of Embrys face, though before you can reach out for Paul, he's got your face cupped in his large hands, pulling you towards him.

His kiss is a lot firmer, motions clearly practiced. He still moves just a slow though, taking his time. Your hands, that were hovering in the air between you, drop to the carpet, and you push yourself foreword into the kiss.

Embry slides his hand that was resting on the floor closer, threading your fingers together as he watches the kiss. When Paul pulls away your chest is heaving, lips tingling. You ghost your fingers over your lips, a dopey smile on your face.

"Good?" Paul whispers, voice rough. It's a rhetorical question, if the knowing smile on his face is any indication. You nod anyways, subconsciously swaying foreword to get closer.

He goes to meet you half way, eyes sliding closed, but then stops a hairs breath away from your mouth. His head whips to the side, eyes staring out the window and into the dark of the night.

"What? What is it?" You follow his line of sight, but you can't make out anything in the dark. Embry shoots up from beside you, rushing to your closed window to throw it open. Both he and Paul tense up, growling low in their throat, "What's going on?"

"It was that leech," Paul says, face hard when you turn to look at him, "they were here."

©︎ pythonees — do not, under any circumstance, repost, plagiarize, modify or translate my work.

[timothee-chalamets-girlfriend]

Paul Atreides X Reader (Dune)

Part 5: The Meeting

     The sand beneath Paul and Jessica sinks and shivers, indicating the worm getting closer. "Run." Paul says, taking off with his mother. It was almost impossible to run in the sand even before the worm disrupted it, so the two didn't get very far before tripping and being knocked over. They seemed to be trapped in the sinking sand. Paul, using what little energy he had left, manages to crawl out. However, his mother didn't have that strength. "Shit!" Paul yells, seeing that his mother was still in the sinking sand hole. He tries to think of something, anything to do in order to help her. He desperately looks around, hoping he'd find a rope, but he doesn't. There was only one option. Paul jogs back into the hole, immediately being knocked over. He grabs his mother and drags her through the sand, basically swimming in it. Once he reached the edge of the hole, he gives his mother one final push to lift her into the stable sand. "Go!"

He says through gritted teeth as he tries to lift himself out, but he had no strength left. 

     Sand gets everywhere as it begins to cover Paul's face, his body falling deeper into the pit. He can feel something beneath him; the sand worm was starting to open its mouth. Paul takes a deep breath and closes his eyes, preparing for what's about to happen. The sand below him collapses and he starts to slide down, hearing a yell before he suddenly stops. He can feel himself dangling above the air from the large worm before being pulled onto the stable sand. Opening his eyes, he sees that someone was holding him by his arm. His mother was right next to this person, helping them pull him out. A thumping sound can be heard in the distance, drawing the sand worm away from them and leaving them laying in the sand, breathing heavily and trying to comprehend what had just happened. Paul wipes some sand from his face and looks to the person that had saved him. It was.. a girl. She had bright blue eyes, and- wait a minute, he knew this girl. It was the same girl from his vision. 

    Paul fumbles around a bit but eventually finds his balance and gets back on his feet. His hands were shaking from adrenaline, his heart pounding and he was still panting from the incident. "Are you okay?" His mother asks, wiping a few grimes of sand from his cheek. He looks to her with soft eyes, nodding. "Who.." he starts to ask, still catching his breath as he motions to the girl. "Oh, I'm Y/N." The girl says, "saw you two struggling with Shai-Hulud and thought you needed some help. It's not everyday we see other people that aren't one of us out in the deep desert. I'm interested. What brings you here?" She asks. "Our ship crashed, we've been trying to find the Fr-" Jessica begins, but Paul was insistent on finishing. "The Fremen," he says. "You're Fremen, aren't you?" He questions Y/N, but he knew the answer. Y/N nods, grinning. "I'd say we found you instead of you finding us, but that doesn't matter. Why did you want to find us? Usually when people try to find us, it's so they can kill us." She tells them, giving Paul a bit of a side eye. "You were our best bet at survival, as my father was killed. We have the same enemies: the Harkonnens. We're willing to help you, if you'd be so kind and help us." Paul said. "There's a few things we'd have to go over before that can happen, but tell you what. I'll bring you back to our camp and ask Stilgar his opinion, and we will go from there. Come on." Says Y/N, and she leads Paul and Jessica to the other Fremen. 

     "By the way, your sand walking was terrible." Y/N says as they approach the Fremen's camp. "Not only that, but the majority of the time you weren't even in worm territory." She chuckles. "How long were you watching us..?" Jessica asks. Y/N simply grins, shrugging. "Could you teach us how to sand walk properly?" Asks Paul, not being able to take his eyes off of this girl. He wanted to know everything about her and the Fremen. "Depends," she says, calling over her leader. "Stilgar! We have some guests!" Stilgar was in the midst of a conversation with his lead warrior, Jamarcus, when Y/N calls him over. "Y/N, what did I tell you about bringing in foreigners?" Stilgar complains. "These two say they're willing to help us get rid of the Harkonnens, they want to learn our ways." Y/N said, and Stilgar immediately shook his head. "You're almost worse than your sister." He sighs. "Chani?" Y/N laughs, "at least I brought in someone who actually has a chance." She motions to Paul, "he's young." She then looks to Jessica, "oh, no offense.." she mumbles. "None taken," Jessica sighs, "what exactly does he have to do?" 

     "In order to become Fremen, you must trade a life for a life. In other words, defeat one of our warriors in battle." Stilgar tells both Paul and Jessica. "That could be a possibility for the young man here, however, I fear the woman is too old to learn our ways." He said. "My mother could be of a useful asset. She's pregnant." Paul says, and his mother quickly goes wide eyed, turning all her attention to him. "How..?" She fumbles for words. "Just a feeling I've had for awhile," Paul admits, "a baby girl?" He felt confident that the dreams he's had on having a baby sister were true. "Yes.." Jessica whispers, still shocked. She had barely known herself that she was pregnant, yet alone that it was a girl. She didn't know whether to be frightened or to admire her son's ability to find that out on his own. Stilgar huffs, thinking. "Let's see if the boy can win a fight before we decide on anything." He decided on that option, calling Jamarcus over to the group of the two Fremen and two foreigners. 

     "What is he to do? Kill this man?" Asks Jessica, looking at the heavily built man called Jamarcus. "Yes, kill him or he kills you." Stilgar says, patting Paul's shoulder. "Take this blade," he hands Paul a newly forged crysknife. "You will die in honor with this blade in your hand." He grins. "Go on now." Jamarcus whips out his own blade from its sheath and stands in a ready position. Paul looks down at the blade in his hand, gulps, then turns to where his mother and Y/N were standing. His mother looked worried, and Y/N, well.. she looked like she believed in him. So he believed in himself as well. He had never killed a man, but he had been trained to. Gurney had taught him well, and Paul was confident those trainings would pay off now. However, part of him was still scared. He knew how good Fremen warriors were, and Jamarcus no doubt fit the definition of a good Fedaykin warrior, and he seemed confident as well. In fact, he saw no fear in Jamarcus's face. 

     The Fremen gather around in a circle, Paul and Jamarcus standing in the middle with their blades at the ready. Paul takes a deep breath just before Jamarcus lunges at him. Paul swiftly dodges the blow, lifting his own blade and directing it toward Jamarcus's chest, in which it is easily blocked. Their blades interlock, along with their eyes. Paul grunts, keeping the other blade from slipping before he takes a few steps backwards. Jamarcus lunges again, moving quickly and this time landing a blow of his fist into Paul's face. Paul stumbles, but remains standing. He shakes off the pain and thrusts his body forward, putting all of his weight into the opposing man, knocking him over. Jamarcus hoists his blade up, pointing it at Paul's throat. Paul is quick to grip onto Jamarcus's wrist, using both his hands to keep the knife from puncturing his throat. His hands shake as he holds the weapon in place; Jamarcus was strong but he wasn't giving up so easily. 

     Paul was so focused on his opponents right hand, he had forgotten about the left. Jamarcus propels his left fist into Paul's face again, causing Paul to fall backward and take his hands off of his right wrist, freeing the blade. Paul gets an unusual metallic taste in his mouth, and can feel the red substance flowing down from his nose. But he wastes no more time, rapidly regaining his balance before making another attack. Jamarcus had been ready, though, ducking beneath the soaring blade and simply lifting his leg to deliver a powerful kick to Paul's chest. Paul grunts at the impact and, again, is forced backwards and loses his footing, hitting the ground with a deep thump that everyone around could feel below them. Paul gasps for air as the wind had been knocked out of him, staying down on the ground and feeling too weak to get back up. Jamarcus stands over him, knife raised and aimed at his neck. The audience gasps. Paul's eyes glance at the blade above him, then travel to his mother, who wasn't even watching anymore, then to Y/N, whom was completely locked in on him, her blue eyes meeting his darker eyes for a quick moment. 

     Seemingly out of nowhere, Paul got a sudden burst of energy, and a determination to live. He glances at Y/N one more time, a tiny smile forming on his bloody lips, one so small he didn't even realize he had done it. He did notice the feeling, though. He wanted to live. No, he had to live. There were things he needed to know still, so much to learn. But most of all, in this moment, he just wanted to talk to Y/N again. Paul, with no more hesitation, turns all of his attention and his energy back into the current duel. Just as Jamarcus was about to make the final blow, Paul uplifts his leg, striking the hand the knife of his opponent was in, knocking it from his grasp. He sits up, snatches the other weapon from the sand, and plunges both blades into Jamarcus's chest, twisting them until they went in as deep as they could possibly go. Blood flows from the man's mouth and wounds as his body begins to shut down. It was a quick death for the Fremen warrior, as Paul had hit his major organs as he had been trained to do. The Boy from the Outer World heaves the crysknives out from the limp body, it falling into the sand. The blades were stained red with blood, and as Paul slowly stands, he drops both of the weapons and lets them fall in the sand besides the Fremen body. 

    He stands still in the middle of the circle, breathing heavily and wiping his bloody nose. He hears a small round of applause, soon finding out that Y/N was the one clapping for him. Was she proud? He had just killed one of her own. Paul finds himself being surrounded by a booming round of applause from the entire group of Fremen. Was he one of them now? Why did everyone, especially Stilgar, look so shocked? Was Y/N the only one that had believed in him? He wanted to know the answer to those questions, and he hoped since he had prevailed in battle, that he would soon find out.

[demon-of-the-ancient-world]

Other Dune thoughts thrown into one post

So it only really hit me recently that Paul is literally from a planet that is mostly water/very lush and rainy. And ends up in, you know, the desert for much of the story. ik that's pretty crucial but I just never clocked it, ya know?

Also: first time we see him interacting w/sand is in the scene right before they leave Caladan, and he picks up some of the sand that's underwater on the beach. He probably can't even picture sand without the context of being near water. There's something there.

The colours of House Atreides are green and black right? Isn't there a detail where in Paul's vision of the holy war he sees the fighters with his family's banner, but then when we actually see that for real in part 2 the banner is a different colour? The *actual* colours shown on the banner in part 2 are white and red. So you know, the exact opposite from what the Atreides banner is. I am Unwell.

Part 1: Reverend Mother walks into the Atreides home like she owns the place and holds a poisoned needle to Paul's neck. Part 2: Paul waltzes into the imperial ship like he owns the place and stabs the baron in the neck. Enough said.

Only noticed this upon watching a gif recently but when Paul grabs Feyd's knife, he doesn't actually try to push it away from himself, just redirects it so he gets stabbed in the shoulder instead of in the neck, and at the same using it as a distraction so he can stab Feyd.

Which is possibly - possibly - a concentrated reference to like. his relationship with fate/his visions in general? He saw terrible things happening if he did nothing, and terrible things happening if he did something. So he did Something, knowing it would lead to terrible things, but I have this idea that part of that is him wanting to at least have some control over what bad things happen - if tragedy and disaster is gonna happen anyway, he'd rather take responsibility for it if it means he can have some measure of control over it. Ergo, redirecting the inevitable into something that still has a bad outcome, but at least it's within his control. That knife is Going Into Him, might as well push it in a direction he can control even if it means still being hurt in the process. Idk. Maybe I'm looking too deeply into this.

The sign language. In part 1, every time it's used, it's either used only by Jessica, or the conversation is initiated by her. Until the scene where her and Paul meet the Fremen for the first time, where he initiates it. And then again in part 2, the first time it's shown he once again is the one who starts it. Shows he's beginning to "take the lead" in their situation.

It's subtle, but you can actually see Paul getting slightly more tan as the second movie goes on. sun, ya know.

Also, I like that his eye colour changes gradually instead of all at once, again it's subtle but you can see it happening in stages

Despite the Fremen being super careful about never wasting their water (i.e. never crying Ever - see Stilgar with Jessica), Paul cries a couple times in front of Chani and she never tells him to be careful about it despite it being so foreign to her. Not sure *exactly* what we're drawing from that yet, but you can definitely get *something* out of it.

Edit: more stuff vvv

Paul leaves Caladan at sunset (or at least they depict *a* sunset on Caladan, appears to be one of the last things he sees of his home planet) and then his final duel also takes place during a sunset - albeit one on Arrakis

I just think it's neat that in the final scene, when Chani remains standing and then turns to leave, Paul doesn't even try to stop her. There's a real look of understanding he's got on his face, like he knows that what he's done is unforgivable (and also possibly that it doesn't matter because she'll come back to him eventually)

[a-fluffer-nutter]

Drive the Negativity Away

A/N - Hi, this is a commissioned fic for Dune Part 2! I hope everyone else who reads this likes this as well!

Word Count: 3,000~

Hot was an understatement. The sun, Canopus, scorched everything its rays touched, slaughtering everything and anything that couldn't adapt to its harshness. Thus, Arrakis lacked a diverse ecosystem. Vegetation was scarce and fauna was scarcer. Despite this, Arrakis was a planet of great interest within the galaxy.

Conflicts on and for Arrakis were frequent, as most had come to know. Conflicts that Paul knew he was going to be thrown into the middle of, but he still held inklings of grief for it all. People were dying, and whilst that was an everyday occurrence across the galaxy, in every city on every planet, it felt a bit different now, as Paul had known the names of those who had died in the recent years. Grief was something Paul had learned to push into the back corner of his mind, but it was still there, the nasty monster under the bed just waiting to strike at the slightest hint of weakness. This weakness was to be trained out of Paul, yet he was still just a boy. Barely over twenty years of age, he had the maturity and the soul of one much older than he was, yet his youthful appearance and occasional slip into relaxation revealed his actual age. 

Exhaustion was what overtook him now, the dark bags beneath his eyes, a stark contrast from his pale skin. Sleep had been escaping him as of late; the past, present, and future continued to dance before his eyes, clouding his mind in every moment of rest. Such images flashed like lightning while he slept last night, disturbing the internal peace he hoped for every night when he closed his eyes. Alas, Paul awoke much earlier than he had wanted to. As quietly as possible in order not to disturb Chani’s slumber, Paul slipped out of the room to go on a walk. Of course, he knew that Chani always stirred just enough to acknowledge his departure, and earlier on in their relationship she would follow him, but after years of this behavior, she had learned to ignore it. Chani cared deeply for Paul, but she knew there wasn't much she could do to ease his mind when it was alighted with visions. 

Sand shifted unevenly behind Paul as he sat atop one of the million dunes blanketing Arrakis. He had not gone too far from Sietch Tabr, so it did not take Chani exceptionally long to find him. She didn't know why she had followed him this morning, but she had sensed the need to. 

“Usul,” her voice was quiet, almost annoyed. She sounded tired, but not unusually so. Definitely not as exhausted as Paul was. 

“Sihaya,” Paul softly greeted her, though continues to stare out at the desert, “I had hoped that I did not wake you. I'm sorry for disturbing your sleep.”

“Something is disturbing your sleep, Usul. Is there something I can do to help you?” Chani gracefully stepped over to his side and sat down beside him. Without giving herself time to second guess herself, she laid her head onto his shoulder, relaxing into his warmth. “Is it something that I have done?”

“No, of course not,” Paul was quick to respond, wanting to nip the negative thought in the bud as soon as possible. It was certainly not her fault that his brain was full of ominous, shadowy figures. The trauma that he had endured in recent years was all but her fault. Chani was one of the only people he could count on, one of the only things of consistency; her and the dreaded Arrakis heat. 

“Then, what can I do to assist you?” Chani's eyes were soft, yet brilliant like the sky above. “Of course, Usul, you do not need to express your emotions with me if you do not want to.”

“I apologize for not being so keen on discussing my feelings, love,” Paul's gaze averted from hers to the horizon line. 

“There is a technique that the Fremen use to drive a person’s negativity away,” Paul looked back at Chani, her lips curled into a soft smile. “Well, it is mostly done between children, but adults are not against using these tactics if necessary.”

“And what sort of tactics may these be?” Paul’s interest was piqued, especially when he noted the smallest change in Chani's smile. 

“I will show you, if you do not mind me touching you.”

“Of course I do not mind your touch,” his brows furrowed, curiosity bubbling over his expression.

“Lie down for me, Usul,” Chani placed her hand on his thigh, her eyes studying his face as he did hers. 

Too tired to question her words, he slowly leaned back and rested his body into the sand. Paul made sure to just lay back the minimum to just be resting on top of it all, not wanting the sand to get into his ears and to avoid having to feel the coarse sensation of it in his hair for the next week. 

      “Are you sure you're fully okay with all of this?” Chani asked. Paul gave her a silent nod before she positioned herself into his hips. 

       A faint blush rose to Paul's face as she shifted her weight, though despite her muscular build, Chani felt quite light. Blue eyes filled with mischief, Chani smiled down at him, causing Paul's heart to beat at an alarming rate. Despite being so close to Sietch Tabr, Paul still had the creeping fear in his mind that his heart was beating too fast and too loud, enough so that a sandworm would take interest in them. 

      Paul was ripped away from his thoughts as he felt an electric sensation, one that buzzed around the right side of his rib cage. 

      While the stillsuits were made with various padded layers and the interior layers were filled with materials that allowed for the perfect preservation of water, there were a few sections of the suits that were rather thin. One of these areas was the midsection of the torso. 

      Eyes locked onto Chani's hands; Paul watched as her fingers lightly scraped against the fabric just beneath the base of his ribcage. At first contact, Paul flinched away, the weird sensation electrocuting his nerves and frying his brain. This felt familiar, but the memory of this touch occurred so long ago. The sensation itself wasn't too much of an issue, but the psychological response he was having was puzzling. Paul was experiencing an unexpected urge to laugh.

       “It's okay to laugh, Usul,” Chani seemed to read his mind, or at least, she was able to read his quizzical look. “Laughing is the whole point.” 

       Wanting to speak, Paul opened his mouth, but all words were halted by a sound he hadn't heard much in years. The boyishness of his laugh surprised him; light and happy, his laugh delighted Chani to no end. Nose scrunched up as much as it could with the filtplug in one nostril, giggles poured from Paul's upturned lips. 

       “I figured the Lisan al-Gaib wouldn't be ticklish, or at least he'd be able to tune it out,” Chani cooed. Before Paul could protest, she began to tickle the side of his neck with one hand and under the chin with the other. 

      Ticklish. A word that Paul vaguely remembered his mother saying when he was a child, long before any of his many training sessions in various practices. Through his teachings from the Bene Gesserit, this realistically should not be affecting Paul as much as it was, however, likely out of love for Chani, this tickling was getting to him a lot more than he'd like to admit. Fight or flight was kicking in and it was flight that won. 

      Flipping over with as much strength as he could muster in the moment, Paul knocked Chani over into the sand. Scrambling to his feet, Paul ran back in the direction of Sietch Tabr. However, Paul forgot how hard it was to run in sand. 

     “Where are you going, Usul?” Chani mused, watching each of his steps being absorbed by the sand. She only let him get four steps in before she pounced onto his back like an oversized pack and tipped them both backwards. 

      “Chani!” Paul yelped as he fell into Chani's torso, wiggling around as she wrapped her legs around his thighs and latches onto his sides. 

      “Hm, you must not be the Lisan al-Gaib or you would be fine with all of this,” Chani smirked, purring into Paul's ear. 

      “Help!” Paul let out as he cackled, Chani's fingers finding the center of Paul's stomach. 

       “Help? We're way too far from the others. No one's here to hear your cries for help. No one can hear you scream, Usul.”

       Paul couldn't form words, in part from being overwhelmed by his own laughter and in part from embarrassment from having yelled for help. Struggling in her grip, Paul rocked back and forth like a feral beast does when they have an itchy back. Slipping out of her grasp, Paul scrambled away from Chani, clawing at the sandy ground, and struggling to stand again. Chani beamed up at him as she allowed him to run off, watching him fumble around like an animal playing with their meal.

            “Ack!” Paul yelped as he was brought down once again, his legs grappled from behind. Knees buckling, he fell face first into the sand. Covering his mouth with one hand to prevent the stirred up sand from going into this mouth and lungs, Paul again clawed at the sand in an attempt to pull himself free. This task would have been easier to do if Chani were not sitting on his calves and lightly scratching the insides and backs of his thighs.

            “Are you not having fun, Usul?” Chani teased, fully relaxed into the situation. She adored Paul with every ounce of her being, but still, there was the occasional nervousness around him when he got into certain headspaces or when attempting different forms of closeness. Chani was not afraid of harming Paul, nor overstepping any boundaries, but there was still a faint, creeping anxiety flickering in the back of her brain every once and a while. Paul would certainly console her if he were to know, but this was not something she ever really wished to bring up. Her partner did not need to be concerned with such silly qualms.

            “My love,” Paul managed to squeak out, though Chani could not hear him, his hand muffling his words and his wheezy laughter.

            “Oh, where are you headed?” Chani let out a silent chuckle as she “accidentally” slipped off his legs while he struggled. This game of cat-and-mouse had a certain allure to it. More often than not, Paul and Chani had to be serious in their day to day lives, stoically so on most occasions. So now, with no eyes on them and every person in the universe out of earshot, Chani could be intensely playful with her lover. So much pressure had been placed upon their shoulders at such an early age that moments like this, being allowed to act their age, act like young adults, being free of all judgement, was crucial to themselves and their relationship. Chani knew this well, and while Paul did as well, he was currently busy trying his best to get away from Chani’s devious tricks and fingers.

            “Sihaya,” Paul panted as he stood, facing her, legs slowly creeping backwards as he tried his best to not kick up much sand. Both of his arms were outstretched toward her, palms flat as if creating an invisible force field to ward her off. “We can talk about this.”

            “Can we?” Chani purred, folding her arms across her torso, cocky smirk gracing her lips. Her sapphire eyes sparkled brightly, as she knew if Paul were really upset she would have stopped by now. They both knew how much this was needed, the two of them. With everything going on in their lives, moments like this were crucial.

Chani crept forward, enjoying Paul's nervousness. From where she was standing, she could almost hear Paul's heart beating faster and faster. Chani knew he was going to run, so why not have a little bit of fun with it?

“What do you wanna talk about, my dearest?” Chani teased, having realized that Paul was not going to respond to her. She could see the nervousness in his eyes, adrenaline rushing through his veins. It was rare for Paul to be nervous, unless of course he was in a life threatening situation. While he still had anxieties, Paul hid these troubling feelings from everyone in his life. Chani, however, was excited by his nervousness, as it showed that he was a living being. This nervousness was playful, something rather unusual for the young man. Being able to play with Paul in this moment made Chani’s heart burst with joy.

“Chani,” Paul warned, a hint of seriousness now in his voice, “Don’t come any closer.”

“And why not?” Chani did not wait for his answer here, instead lunging at him, bounding over the sand like it was nothing. For Paul, the sand engulfed his feet and helped guide him to the ground, even before Chani had him in her grasp.

“Chani, just let me go. You’ve had your fun,” Paul’s voice was stern, though his eyes showed off a boyish excitement. Chani stared down at him, standing over his chest, her shadow ominously looming over Paul. “There is no need to go any fur-ack!”

“You’re talking too much, Usul,” Chani said in false annoyance, letting out a laugh as she sat down on his face to quiet him down. This was certainly not something she had ever really done before, but at the moment, it was the fastest way to shut him up. It also gave her the tactical advantage of being able to perfectly reach his neck down to his pant line. The position gave her the delightful experience of Paul’s head desperately snaking back and forth underneath her as her hands were drilling into his underarms. This spot was clearly a great spot, as Paul was smacking the sand and flinging some at her, despite it covering his own body as well.

“Having fun?” Chani let out a sweet laugh as she was thrown backwards into the sand. Paul scrambled back, sucking in deep breaths.

“Chani! Paul!” The young man was saved from answering as someone’s voice resonated across the desert. Both recognized the voice as coming from Chani’s mother, no doubt having been sent to retrieve them for some sort of business. Paul was almost too eager to get up and head back to the sietch, though his brain was churning up thoughts and playing Chani’s question over and over again.

---

Having experienced plenty of near death experiences, one would figure Paul was used to it by now. This, unfortunately for the young man, was not the case. Granted, this was the first time that his life flashed before his eyes from something that was not necessarily hostile. An attack it was, but not one that was meant to stop his heart or force blood to expel from beneath his flesh. No, this was different, and it was entirely his fault.

Only the occasional snort or squeak was uttered from Paul’s lips. He was completely wordless, laughter silent as he lay in his bed, completely safe from anyone wanting to do him harm. Chani, his lover, the woman to be the mother of his children, held Paul completely at her mercy. Mercy that he was not going to receive.

“Thank you for letting me know you enjoy this,” Chani teased, leaning over Paul’s entirely exposed torso, bare of all except for a little saliva from Chani’s lips. Not expecting a response, Chani let out a laugh before gently nipping the lower rim of his navel, heightening his anticipation for what was coming. Sucking in an exaggerated amount of air, Chani blew a raspberry just on top of his navel. Still mostly silent, the only noise Paul could make was a snort and his hands beating the mattress.

This had been the scene for the last half hour. Despite the duo being relatively exhausted from the lack of sleep the night before, the moment that Paul confided in Chani that he had enjoyed the shared experience from that morning, Chani leapt into action. After receiving consent to “try whatever you would like,” Chani was ready to go all out and make the potential Lisan al-Gaib experience every possible ticklish sensation possible. A devious technique she had done just before straddling his hips, was sitting on his face again and blowing raspberries all over his stomach. The fabric of her pants muffled his loud laughter from anyone who could be in the near vicinity, though she let up after a bit, allowing him to breathe, before straddling him in his current position. 

Pushing herself up into a seated position, Chani figured it was a good time to let him breathe. Sitting on his calves, Chani lightly scribbled along his thighs, tracing along the entirety of them both. Now, Paul was finally able to have an audible laugh. Gentle, boyish giggles erupted from him and to him, it felt good. The smile upon his face was not forced, but sincere. Paul loved the gentle touch, even when Chani kneaded into his hips, which elicited a somewhat deeper laugh.

“Before we end, I want to try one more spot. Is that still okay with you, Usul?” Chani asked, knowing that even with full consent, Paul may want to rescind his statement. Paul nodded, residual giggles still dominating his vocal cords. Receiving the okay, Chani rolled off him and the bed. Paul watched as she opened a dresser drawer and withdrew her hairbrush. Interest piqued by this action, his eyes followed her as she returned to the bed and sat back down onto his calves, albeit facing away from him.

“Sihaya?” Voice hoarse and eyes wet, Paul looked quizzically at Chani’s back. Without a quick verbal response, Paul was about to speak again when torturously ticklish tingles trailed along his toes. Head tossed back, Paul’s belly laugh returned, flowing from his lips like a waterfall. Brush bristles skimmed across his soles and arches; sensation reminiscent of an electrical current. Hugging himself tightly, Paul shook with mirth, completely lost in the ticklish feeling. 

“This might be the hardest I have heard you laugh, yet, my love,” Chani hummed more to herself than to Paul. His brain could only focus on one thing at the moment, and it certainly was not her words. Breath staggered, Chani could sense the end of the line was quickly approaching, though she had one more trick up her sleeve before concluding the fun. 

Unceremoniously, Chani dropped the brush, allowing Paul to suck in as much air as he pleased. Hair messy, Paul panted as Chani shifted her weight atop his legs. Not able to really see nor figure out what Chani was up to; Paul was just thankful for the moment of respite. Heart threatening to hammer through his chest, Paul steadied his breathing to the best of his abilities as he watched Chani manipulate herself into a puzzling position. This action did not set off any alarms on his head until he felt it. 

“Cha-ch-chan-ihi!” Proper language skills escaping him, Paul sputtered and wheezed as he felt Chani's gentle lips pressing against the soft skin of the bottoms of his feet and blowing as much air that her lungs could muster. A technique that had a devastating effect when applied on his stomach, raspberries had an even greater, over the top sensation when applied to his feet compared to the hairbrush from moments ago. 

“Did you have fun?” Chani asked moments later, untwisting her body so she could sit up enough and crawl up the bed, so she was looming over Paul's body. Tenderly, Chani cupped the side of his face with her dominant hand, her eyes sparkling fondly. 

“I enjoyed it quite a bit,” Paul replied, his voice scratchy yet soft. “Though I do believe it is time for us to get some rest.”

“I agree, my Usul,” Chani smiled before leaning forward, taking his lips into hers. Reciprocating her love, Paul wrapped his arms around Chani's shoulders and brought her close, two bodies becoming one.