#the art and soul of dune

[keefechambers]

"While Rabban is only featured wearing his armor in the first film, Part Two reveals him wearing black silk pajamas like the Baron in Part One. The character is more aloof and his clothes more decadent." - The Art and Soul of Dune: Part Two.

[rebeccalouisaferguson]

Rebecca Ferguson as Lady Jessica and Timothée Chalamet as Paul Atreides on set of Dune: Part Two | "The Art and Soul of Dune: Part Two"

[callmebyyournamephoto]

Timothée Chalamet as Paul Muad'dib Atreides in "Dune: Part Two"

[atrxides]

Leto & Jessica x Macbeth Dune 2021.

[ladypepsfanart]

Still thinking about ✨Dune✨

Have a Bene Gesserit Reverend Mother design

[rebeccafergusonfan]

Rebecca Ferguson as Lady Jessica | Behind the Scenes of Dune Part Two | 2024

[theblackbookofarkera]

From the travelog Dreams of Distant Places Vol 12

[party-in-the-front]

Inprnt's New Year sale is over but now they're doing free shipping until tomorrow! On that I did a 20% reduction, go check it out! https://www.inprnt.com/gallery/luis_melo/

[dr0wninthefear]

L.S. Dunes / Manchester 29/01/23

one of the most cathartic shows i’ve been to in a long, long time. fellow lost souls in a small sweaty basement sharing a lot of big feelings. i’m very grateful.

[lsdunesarchive]

lsdunes: Been loving all the art that this song has inspired 🌌

Art by: 1 - @toothhatr 2 - @designby.emilychim 3 - @.rectangularhalos_art 4 - @.victoria_p.art 5 - @.buildinghells 6 - @swarmmustdie 7 - @ciah2.0 8 - @.whyvette_11 9 - iz.likes_art 10 - @.lunapoison_art

(L.S. Dunes Instagram | August 28, 2023)

[sandsofsolstice]

(((ok this drawing will probs not be finished so take this sort-of-okay version, an illustration from a scene in the fic)))

Rating: M

Warnings: Graphic Depictions of Violence + Blood

Pairings: The PolyculeTM (Jackal/Dune/Carrion/Locust)

Summary: During one of his late night patrols, Dune Zerda is ambushed by Sphinx's lackeys. Although he's able to stumble home, he's been seriously stabbed - it'll take him quite a bit to recover. Will he be able to let down his walls and allow his partners to take care of him? Will he brave accepting tender loving care from them?

Excerpt below this line:

“Tell me who did this,” Jackal says. His rage is barely concealed, shaking with fury, all that righteous anger bubbling up to protect Dune. “Tell me who, and I will kill them.”

“Guess who’s little henchmen,” Dune snarls with a scoff. Who else could it have been besides Sphinx’s underlings? No one wants him dead more than Jackal’s ex, the man’s jealousy running even hotter than his vengeance. It makes him wonder why he isn’t well and truly dead in the sands right now.

Jackal’s scorpion-like tail thrashes angrily as he turns towards the door, hands balled into fists, his pacifism abandoned. He can’t quite remember the last time he saw Jackal this angry: maybe the last time he was actually face-to-face with Sphinx? Perhaps it was the time someone had vandalized the graveyard.

“You will make him better,” Jackal hisses, looking at Locust, the man shrinking a little under his gaze. It’s easy to forget that below his quietness and kindness that the man was practically raised to be a weapon. It’s easy to forget that he runs this town, that he protects it. He’s always so… mellow, when he’s at home. Dune wishes he could fully appreciate the moment.

Instead, when Jackal races out the door, pure panic grips his heart. “Go after him,” Dune says, voice shaking. “If anything happens to him-” his voice breaks, cutting him off.

Locust starts to object before cutting himself off. “Go. But be back fast,” he tells his husband, who spreads his giant wings as he runs out the door next. Dune can faintly hear the powerful wingbeats beating through the air. Jackal couldn’t have gotten far, and Carrion’s faster flying then Jackal is sprinting. It eases the pain in his chest, ever so slightly.

“Just us two, then,” Locust says, sadly, holding Dune up by his shoulders.

“I really hope you’re not the last bastard I see,” Dune says back, trying to put some bite behind his words. He wants to argue and bicker with Locust, for things to feel normal, like he wasn’t bleeding out on the kitchen counter.

[euphorial-docx]

i’m thinking about turning my opev art ao3 post into a general opev art book companion thing with more than just one piece of art (which is lovely, btw. the one already there is beautiful.)

so if you have opev art, old or new, and you want me to add them/give me permission to add them to the art book, let me know! <333

[cosmicwolfboy]

T R Y L. S. D T O D A Y ! !! ! !

inspired by the silly lsd shirt they sold as tour merch

[callmebyyournamephoto]

Behind The Scenes photos from "Dune: Part Two"

credit x , x

[rebeccalouisaferguson]

"There were a couple of scenes [in Dune (2021)] that were all about the training technique. There was one scene that I was quite sad they cut away. There are physical training methods, where Jessica teaches Paul the art of fighting with the knives that he later uses on Jamis [the Fremen warrior played by Babs Olusanmokun]" - Rebecca Ferguson for The Hollywood Reporter

Rebecca Ferguson as Lady Jessica and Timothée Chalamet as Paul Atreides photographed by Chiabella James on set of Dune (2021) | "The Art and Soul of Dune" and "Dune: Part One : The Photography"

[n0cturn4]

Character: Adult!Damian Wayne x Reader Summary: “I offer you my heart,” he murmured, his voice now an intimate whisper. “And the freedom to do with it as you will.” Word Count: 1185 Music: Habibi

It was a night of scorching heat in the infinite desert, where the sky, dotted with stars, reflected the glow of a fate written long before the birth of kingdoms. In the palace of Al-Nadir, grand and carved in marble and gold, Prince Damian Wayne, now a grown man, wandered silently through its vast corridors. His firm steps echoed like a whisper of responsibility and power. Damian, the prince who carried the weight of two legacies within him, had always been an enigma, a man made of shadows and steel. But that night, something beyond the throne unsettled him. He felt an emptiness, an absence that neither gold nor glory could fill.

The festival of Al-Nadir pulsed like a living heart in the city below, where the people celebrated, and the arts flourished under the desert heat. On that special night, dancers from all corners came to showcase their talents, but there was one in particular, a presence that stood out among all, like a rare flower in the sands of destiny.

And then he saw her.

You, a dancer whose movements seemed to defy the very stars. Your feet glided across the stage like a gentle breeze over the dunes, and your eyes, burning and mysterious, revealed stories that words could never contain. Your body, adorned with veils and jewels that shimmered in the torchlight, moved with a grace that did not belong to this world. Every gesture, every curve of your body was silent poetry, a promise of freedom and power.

Damian, a man accustomed to hiding his emotions, felt his heart waver. The serenity he always carried like armor shattered before your dance. He, a prince of steel, was captivated by a flame he did not understand but could not ignore.

When the music ceased and the applause echoed, Damian knew he had to meet you. He ordered to be taken to you, not with the arrogance of a prince, but with the curiosity of a man before a mystery he longed to unravel. In the palace’s private gardens, beneath the shadows of exotic trees, he waited. The sound of water running through the fountains was the only noise besides his own heartbeat.

You arrived, your eyes raised, firm and fearless, as enigmatic as your dance. There was no fear in your posture, only calm curiosity, as if you knew this encounter was inevitable.

“You called for me, Your Highness?” your voice was a thread of silk, as soft as the night breeze.

Damian tilted his head, his green eyes analyzing you as if he could read your soul through every subtle movement.

“There is something in your dance,” he said, his voice deep and controlled, “something that goes beyond art. There’s a story behind every one of your movements. A battle... a freedom.”

Your lips curved into a slight smile, something enigmatic, like a moon partially veiled by clouds. You observed him with the same care, surprised by his insight.

“Every gesture I make carries the weight of my own story,” you replied. “Dancing is the only freedom I truly have.”

Damian stepped closer, his words like veiled promises in the warm night air. “What if I could offer you more than just that fleeting freedom? What if I could give you something greater?”

You raised an eyebrow, your eyes sparkling with curiosity. “What exactly would you offer me, Your Highness?”

He did not hesitate, his words were precise, like the arrows he so skillfully wielded. “A choice. Stay by my side. Not as a prisoner of my will, but as an equal. Someone who challenges my spirit and shares the burden of power with me. I see in you what few would—strength that deserves to be honored, not tamed.”

The night seemed suspended between you, the wind carrying only the echoes of something forming, something neither of you had anticipated.

“And if I accept this offer,” you asked, your tone low but filled with meaning, “what do I get in return, besides power and your wealth?”

Damian took another step closer, until his eyes, intense as the desert itself, penetrated yours.

“I offer you my heart,” he murmured, his voice now an intimate whisper. “And the freedom to do with it as you will.”

You stepped forward, reducing the distance that still remained between you. Your eyes, deep and mysterious, met his with firmness. It was like looking into a distorted mirror—you, the free dancer, and he, the chained prince. Two worlds so different, yet drawn to each other as if the universe had conspired for this moment.

“And what would you do, Prince,” you began, your voice flowing like a soft melody, “if I took your heart and turned it into my own dance? If I made it part of who I am?”

Damian smiled, a rare smile, almost imperceptible, carrying both melancholy and hope. There was something vulnerable in his stance, a man who had always been a fortress now lowering his defenses before a stranger, yet still, a soul he seemed to have known forever.

“Then,” he replied, with a soft gleam in his eyes, “I would become part of your freedom. Because in the end, there is no greater power than being in the hands of someone you trust.”

For a moment, the world around you seemed to stop. The sounds of the festival in the distance, the murmuring fountains, even the soft breeze among the leaves, all silenced in the intensity of that moment. The moon poured its silver light over the garden, as if the heavens were watching and approving of what was unfolding.

You stepped even closer, until you were so near that you could feel the heat emanating from his body, his presence strong and solid. Your fingers, delicate and skilled like in your dance, gently touched Damian's chest, right over where his heart beat. The touch was light, almost like a breeze, but the connection that formed was deep, instantaneous.

“Your freedom and mine are like two stars dancing in the sky, Prince,” you said softly. “I accept what you offer, but know that I will not be a silent companion. My soul is not meant to be contained.”

Damian breathed deeply, as if your words had the power to ignite something deep within him. His eyes never left yours for a moment.

“That is exactly why I chose you,” he murmured, his voice dense, full of promise. “I don’t want someone who bows, but someone who walks beside me. I want someone who challenges me, who makes me question the world as it is.”

You tilted your head slightly, studying him, as if deciphering the final secret hidden in his soul.

“Then, Prince Damian,” you said, a light smile on your lips, “we will dance together.”

And so, under the stars that silently watched, the bond between you was formed. The Prince of Al-Nadir, with his heart in the hands of a dancer, and you, with the promise of a love that could not be contained by borders or duties. The night, a silent witness, became the stage for the first act of a story that would defy fate and time.

And in that dance of souls and hearts entwined, Damian Wayne's world began to change, one step at a time.