#paul atreides packs

[diana-foggy-master]

𝐃𝐔𝐍𝐄 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝟐

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[soluners]

ㅤㅤ ㅤㅤ 💬 sani's new message : dune pack! ✦

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[comicchannel]

Dune: Part Two Action Figure Gold Label 4 Pack - McFarlane Toys

Link para compra BR: https://amzn.to/3OYXbi2

Buy here: https://amzn.to/3wFpfAy

[murdrdocs]

do you believe in us?

description. from a young age, you and PAUL ATREIDES believe you belonged to the other, and foolishly thought you could one day marry. not even an unlikely marriage between your parents will diminish those beliefs.

includes. STEPCEST, SMUT MDNI 18+, fem!reader, oral (f receiving), childhood best friends to stepsiblings, instigator paul, appearances by lady jessica, duke leto, and duncan idaho, sparring, sneaking around

wc: 5.3k+

a/n: title from us by movement. artwork credit to revol404 on instagram. ao3 link

When you were younger, you saw Castle Caladan for what it wasn’t. 

In nearly all of your memories, Castle Caladan was warm and bright. The sun shone into the large windows, illuminating the gray hallways and providing a comforting warmth that seduced your young mind into seeing Castle Caladan as one of the residences from the fairytales your mother would tell you. In these memories you were always running and smiling, often hand-in-hand with your best friend. Your first love. 

Paul Atreides. 

Castle Caladan was the home of the person you cared about most. Therefore, visits were vacations. They were scarce, becoming more rare the older you got, but that only made you treasure them more. 

You and Paul would spend the entire day together, even going as far as to sneak out of your allocated bedrooms and tiptoe into the chambers of the other. In the morning, the maids would find two little bodies sharing a bed, hands reaching out to touch the other in the empty space between you both. 

And as you grew, you traded running around the halls for playing each other in chess. Playing throughout the fields was traded for walking along the shoreline. 

Sneaking into each other's bedroom only changed by the nature of intentions. You still ached to spend more time together, but the innocence of it was lost. In the solitude of the night, you would make up for the time lost during the day to Paul’s training as the heir, and your duties with your mother and Lady Jessica. 

When your mother broke the news, she misled you. 

“You will be permanently living with the Atreides family,” came her carefully chosen words. If she had not trained you, maybe it would’ve taken you longer to catch the implications. Maybe you would not have understood what circumstances had brought this upon your family until you were packing, or even until you were already en route to Caladan. 

Instead, it’s then and there that you realize how your chances have been lowered to none. 

Your mother had said your name, her tone as dry and disappointed as her eyes. “You will never be able to marry him. It is as I said.” 

And that was that. 

Your best friend becomes your step brother in the blink of an eye. Together, you made up the new and noble siblings of House Atreides. 

Your mother and Paul's father were married, and you and Paul now shared a last name. It was an immovable fact, no matter how often you and Paul attempted to convince each other of the opposite in moments of intense desperation. 

No matter how many times you tried to convince the other that marriage is a procedure that could be reversed should the need ever arise, you both knew that a reversal would be unlikely.

Duke Leto married your mother despite his clear love for Lady Jessica for security. If he could manage to commit such an act onto the one he loves, then there would be no undoing this.

Now, you see Castle Caladan for what it is. 

As beautiful as it is dreary. As cold as it is large. As encompassing as it is comforting. 

You sit at the breakfast table next to Paul and across from your mother. Lady Jessica sits at the end of the table, and Duke Leto, your stepfather, is absent. 

There’s no small talk, just the silent scraping of utensils against expensive china and the occasional audible gulp of fluid down throats. 

Every so often, you throw a curious glance Paul’s way, and the look he throws at you is in similar fashion. You both feel the stiffness in the air. 

Paul raises his eyebrows. He nudges them towards your mother and then his mother, and does the same with his eyes for emphasis. 

You slightly widen your eyes pointedly, your way of saying I know without having to say it. His lips pull up into a small smile and then you both turn back to face your plates. 

The tense silence continues for a while. Your mother addresses Lady Jessica. Lady Jessica addresses Paul. Your mother addresses you and Paul. 

And then your plates are cleaned and Paul is standing. 

“May we be excused?” 

It’s surprisingly a clear day outside, and you did not have to speak to Paul to know that he intended for both of you to enjoy the agreeable weather before Caladan was inevitably submerged in water once more later in the night. 

“You may be excused,” Lady Jessica confirms. 

You’re in the midst of rising from your seat and pushing the chair out from under you whenever you catch Lady Jessica’s eye. She does not say anything to you, but she does not need to. 

Just the cold gaze of her blue eyes alone are enough to make you sink back into your seat. From behind you, Paul calls your name. If you were not locked in a trance, you would have looked at him, you would have found the soothing blue-green of his eyes instead of the petrifying chill of his mothers. 

“I’ll see you later, Paul,” you tell him on your own volition, but you think that is what Lady Jessica wanted you to say anyway. 

She waits until the dining room is cleared of anyone other than you two before she begins to communicate. 

“You and my son…” Her words taper off and you are too busy focusing on the way her lips have only moved to take in another bite of her breakfast, and not to speak to you. 

While you understand the ways of the Bene Gesserit, it never fails to amaze you. 

“Ma’am?” You are playing dumb and both of you are aware. 

Still, Lady Jessica elaborates, “You both have had feelings for the other since you were young.” 

There is no room for denial so there is no reason for you to attempt it. You nod twice, casting your eyes down to your lap where your hands lay restlessly. You begin to pick at your nails as Lady Jessica continues. 

“And are those feelings still present?” 

Your answer comes entirely too quick. 

“No!” Your voice echoes around the room and you cringe. 

Lady Jessica lifts an eyebrow. She senses your dishonesty. 

You chew on your bottom lip for a moment. “Yes, ma’am. But we have not acted on them.” 

When she communicates this time, it is with her voice. 

“Good. You are a smart girl and your mother has raised you well. I’m sure you will make both of us proud.” She finishes off her food and sits straighter, wiping her mouth free of nonexistent residue with a white cloth. “Now I’m sure you have things to be getting to, right, dear?” 

You have never been happier to leave somewhere. You say your goodbyes as graciously as possible and leave the dining room. 

You’re in the training room exhausting yourself with slightly shaky jabs at the practice dummy whenever the door opens. There is a split second where you’re prepared to turn around and throw the next jab at the intruder, but then he speaks. 

“If I were Gurney I would chastise you for fighting with your back to the door.” 

You speak around your heavy  breaths. 

“Eyes in the back of my head, remember?” 

Your reference is one that goes back to you and Paul’s young teenage years. A phrase you confidently proclaimed once you and Paul both had begun extensive training, learning combat that could protect yourselves and your—then separate—family names should the need ever arise. (To this day, Paul is more formidable in combat than you are, but back then you could confidently hold your own.) 

Gurney had taken over training then, and he had allowed you and Paul to train together, solely because you were visiting during one of Paul’s less intense training sessions. 

(You believed that Gurney always had a soft spot for you and the Atreides heir. Not nearly as obvious as the one held by Duncan Idaho, but its existence is present within the weathered man.)

When Gurney had chastised you for fighting with your back to the door, you quickly quipped with a claim that you had eyes in the back of your head. When Gurney tossed a rock at your back, not big enough to provide more than a bruise against your skin, you were able to block it without turning around. 

Gurney was impressed. Paul was stunned. You attributed it to pure luck. Yet since then, it was never let go. 

When you begin to notice Paul approaching you, you credit your awareness of his movement to knowing him more than you knew your surroundings. You weren’t the most skilled warrior. Your mother belongs to a notable house, which forced you to learn slightly more than the basic survival skills. Some chastised her for withholding you from Bene Gesserit training, or perhaps more in depth training that would harden both your body and your mind. As far as she cared, you could hold your own in a fight, and that is all you needed. 

But you knew Paul. The ins and outs. Sometimes, late at night when you would allow the sickness of infatuation to fall upon you as you gazed at the stars, you liked to think that you and Paul were intertwined. You liked to convince yourself that your souls were intertwined and codependent. 

It is hard to dispute that claim when you know based on intuition alone that Paul is right behind you. 

(You can also feel his body heat and his presence behind you, but in your mind that is not nearly as romantic.)

You spin around to face Paul, your arms raised and body tensed with preparation to fight. 

Paul eyes your posture, cocks his head to the side, and mirrors it. 

It’s over quickly. 

Paul has your dagger thrown to the side within the first three movements. He has your hands restricted in his grasp in the next two movements. With just one more movement, he has your cheek and chest pressed against the wall with your hands bound behind your back. For just a moment more, he stands a respectable distance away from you. 

With the space between you both, the position could be passed off as friendly. The position could pass as the competitive nature it resembled. 

Until Paul takes a step closer and flushes his crotch against your backside, making you well aware of the stiff form within his trousers. 

For just a moment more, you let yourself revel in the feeling with your eyes closed, the rate of your breathing evening out now that you aren’t exerting yourself. You shimmy your hips just a bit, nestling Paul’s erection between your cheeks as best as you can with lack of movement and layers hindering your abilities. 

But then the moment is gone. You push it away when you speak. 

“Paul,” you intend for the syllables of his name to be a warning. At first, they come out as a pleading whine, so you clear your throat and try again. 

“Paul.” This time, it is firm and demanding. 

When Paul hums, it is against the shell of your ear. The proximity allows you to feel his voice instead of just hearing it, and you are instantly reminded of the times Paul had been on his knees between your legs and using the vibration that came from him to bring you pleasure you have not felt since. 

“We really shouldn’t.” You’re trying to convince both him and yourself. 

“Why shouldn’t we?” 

The question should not have to be asked. It is a question that should not need to be answered, for you both know what is preventing you from having the other in ways from before. 

You do not answer. Your forehead thuds against the wall, your warm breath rebounds against the wall and hits your lower face when you exhale. 

Paul starts to gently rock his hips into yours. His free hand, the one not restricting your movement, presses flat against the cement structure. 

When the pleasure increases, and your desire follows, you lift your head and let it lull to the side, resting the side of your skull against the toned muscles in Paul’s bicep. You start to give in. 

Your lips part in a moan devoid of any sound as Paul asks you again. 

“Tell me, my star. Why shouldn’t we?” 

He lets go of your hands, instead using his own for a more important cause. His palm glides up the side of your shirt until he reaches your breast. You cannot feel the warmth of his touch through your layers, but just the pressure alone is enough to have you choking around your words. 

“Because it’s not right, Paul,” you eventually tell him. 

Paul tuts. The hand on the wall meets your waist, his fingertips pressing into the area as he uses his grip to pull you back against him. 

“What d’you mean it’s not right?” He kisses the side of your neck and at this moment, you are considering letting him take you here and now. “It feels right, doesn’t it?” 

You’re nodding before he even finishes speaking. 

You had not realized just how bad you missed Paul until now. Your mind has conjured up images of him in your sleep, perfect replicas of his face created from memories of your time spent together and imagining what could be if you just release your inhibitions. When Paul gently sinks his teeth into the skin along your shoulder, it dawns on you that with just a bit more time, your dreams could easily walk into the waking world. 

Maybe you were just about to give in. Maybe Paul would have convinced you to let him finally have you. 

Either way, the moment is lost whenever Paul steps away from you, taking away all of the contact points in one singular move. 

You turn to face him with your eyebrows furrowed and your eyes already beginning to sting with rejection whenever the door opens. 

You turn your head, both stunned and grateful to see Duncan Idaho walking through, his stride strong and purposeful until he notices you standing in front of Paul. 

He takes a moment to cast his eyes between both of you. You watch his gaze flicker around the room, no doubt taking in as much information as he could, before he lands on you. 

“Didn’t know you were joining us today, Eyes.” It is no surprise that Duncan pulls on the same story from before for your nickname. Just as you have yet to let the anecdote go, he has yet to let the nickname go. 

“I’m not,” you tell him, attempting to subtly adjust your garments. It is clear that you were not as subtle as you could have been whenever Duncan eyes you up and down. You swear there is something akin to knowing on his face. 

“I was just leaving.” 

“Don’t leave on my accord. Paul could use more of a challenge, isn’t that right?” Duncan smiles teasingly and finally looks at your stepbrother. You do the same. 

(You are surprised to see that Paul does not look as flustered as you anticipated him to. You hope you did not pull the short stick.)

“Oh … yes.” Paul turns to face you with a smile similar to Duncan’s on his lips. “Join us … little sis.” The term of endearment sounds foreign coming from him. That is not the only reason why it makes you cringe. 

You understand that both of them are making a joke at your expense. There have been a few times where you foolishly joined Duncan and Paul during their sessions, only to get knocked on your ass by Paul and goaded into getting back up by Duncan. The cycle would continue until you could do nothing but lay in bed the next day, praying for a speedy recovery so you would not waste a day that could be spent in Paul's presence. 

Now that you live here, that one issue would be taken care of. Still, you prefer to be able to comfortably move around without bruises and aches restricting your movement. 

Although your mind is already made up, you cannot help but attempt to defend yourself. 

“Who says I haven’t gotten better?” 

Paul smirks. You both know that while you have improved, he has too. He will always be ahead of you. The compromising position you were in only a few minutes ago serves as proof. 

“Have you?” Duncan asks. 

Your reply comes in the form of dismissal, which you do as politely as you can, adding only slight annoyance to your tone that you could only display in the presence of Duncan and none of the other members of House Atreides. 

“Enjoy yourselves. Paul, I’ll see you at dinner.” 

Paul nods once and then you leave with the boisterous sound of Duncan’s laughter escorting you out. 

Dinner is much like breakfast. 

Duke Leto joins this time, which allows for much more conversation. But the stiff and tense air still permeates the dining room. It takes you half of your entree to decipher exactly where the energy is coming from, but it is so clear once it is revealed that you cannot help but beat yourself up over your previous confusion just a bit. 

Different from earlier in the morning, your mother sits at the head of the table with Duke Leto on the other end. Lady Jessica has been casted off and forced to sit across from you and Paul. She appears uncomfortable in the seat, constantly readjusting herself between quick statements that clearly express her discontent at the new arrangement. 

You would have focused more on the dramatics of your family dinner table if Paul were not toying with you beneath it. 

You are incredibly thankful that he kept his hands to himself, but his feet are just as insistent. Just as restless. 

They poke against yours constantly, not in an attempt to gather your attention as you would consistently send looks his way. Never were they returned. He would either be discussing his day with his father, talking to either of your mothers, or focused on the diminishing food on his plate. 

There were a few occasions where you thought Paul’s actions were accidental. You would draw your foot back, but when his covered toes found yours once more, you knew it to be another one of his games. It was juvenile and childish, but you found yourself allowing it to happen. 

You would take any form of Paul’s touch, so long as it did not compromise too much. 

You repeat your philosophy in your mind over and over again like the sayings of the Bene Gesserit whenever Paul approaches you. 

You stand in the center of your bedroom in your night clothes. Your curtains are still open, exposing the vast nothingness that the sea presents itself as since the sun has set. The stars twinkle above, and you had already prepared yourself for a night of tracing constellations before Paul entered. 

He stands in front of you, dressed just as down as you are. His hair is still a little wet from bathing, and you briefly recount the many times you played with the curls until they began to dampen and eventually dry. Each time, his hair would look unkempt in the mornings, but Paul never cared. He claimed that his hair was just a reminder of the night he spent with you. 

You would pretend to be unaffected by his sweet talking, only to flush at the memory of his words later in the day. 

“Are you listening to me, my star?” His words pull you from your senseless daydreaming. 

“What was that?” 

Paul’s lips tug up in the corners as he dips his head for a moment. When he looks at you once more, he takes a step closer. 

You knew why he was here in the first place, but the advance of his hand reaching for your waist still has your breath hitching. 

“I was wondering if you would let me have a taste of you.” 

He stares at you, waiting for an answer. Meanwhile, you are losing yourself as you continue to look into his eyes, analyzing the way his long and dark eyelashes add depth to them for the millionth time. 

Eventually, the raise of his eyebrows cue you. 

“Paul,” you start with a soft tone, an attempt to keep it neutral. But Paul knows you just as well as you know him. Possibly even better. 

He senses the impending rejection woven in just the syllables of his name. 

He sighs. He pulls you closer by your hips. He rests his forehead against yours and presses his hands into your lower back. 

He says your name. No, he breathes it. His breath hits your lips before you part them. With his next exhale, you inhale. The pattern continues until Paul prepares to speak, but you interrupt him. 

“She knows.” 

You do not have to specify exactly who you are talking about. 

Paul sighs again, this time as if he is defeated. 

“Of course she knows. My mother is all knowing, didn’t you know?” He speaks with faux amusement. He’s lighthearted, and the emotion is completely misplaced. 

“We can’t go back to doing this, Paul.” 

He begins to speak over you, but you continue. 

“Paul, we can’t. No. No. It’s too dangerous. It’s too–”

“We can. Yes, we can, my star. Look at me–” 

You do as told, removing the touch of your foreheads from the others to look at each other head on once more. 

“What are you so afraid of?” 

The question is so simple. The answer is, too. It is one you have run over in your head day in and day out since moving in just a few months ago. It is the same response you reminded yourself of whenever Paul would touch you, even if it were just an accidental graze of his knuckles against yours. 

The difficulty comes with admittance. 

But in the safe confines of your bedroom, with nothing but the moon, stars, and sea as a witness, you open your mouth. 

“I’m afraid of losing you.” 

Paul shakes his head gently, sending little water droplets flying. 

“You will never lose me. You know that.” 

“Yes, I will, Paul.” 

“No. Why would you say that? We live together now. We’re bound together.” 

It takes a moment to wring yourself out of Paul’s touch, and when you do, he keeps his hands suspended in the air without making any attempts to straighten his posture. He looks dejected. 

You approach your window, staring off into the distance as you say, “Exactly. We are bound together in ways that will never reach marriage. We cannot get married.” 

Paul’s footsteps are near silent as he approaches you. 

“Does that mean you cannot be mine and I cannot be yours? What we have will always transcend marriage, my star.”

When you do not bother to respond, there is a resounding thud. 

You look to your side to find Paul on his knees before you. You, the bastard daughter, have brought the heir of House Atreides to his knees. Like this, with the low lighting in your bedroom reflecting the highest points of his cheekbones and emphasizing the valleys along the plane of his face, it is easy to remind yourself that Paul Atreides is just as much of a bastard as you. 

You two are in this together. Why should you not be together as well?

You are already planning to accept when he begs. 

“Please? Just one taste and I will let you be if that is what you wish. You have my word.” 

Typically, Paul is a man of his word. When you were kids and you accidentally knocked over a vase, a gift from another of the houses, Paul never told a soul just as he promised. When you had the tiniest crush on Duncan and let Paul in on the secret, he never told. He had given you his word both times. 

It is this time when you first are made aware of Paul’s capacity for dishonesty. 

Either way, you lift the skirt of your nightgown. 

Paul fits between your legs without much difficulty at all. While it may have been a while since you allowed yourselves this delicacy, it is as easy as breathing to return to the routine. 

Paul begins to lick and suck at your essence with appreciation derived from deprivation. His hands press into the fat of your backside, either to hold you steady or keep you flush against him. In any case, you are securely pressed against Paul’s mouth and he has no intention of letting you go anytime soon. 

You feel similarly, throwing your leg over his shoulder and digging the heel of your foot into the defined muscles of his back. Your hand presses against the glass plane beside you when Paul puckers his lips and sucks along your clit. 

The position calls for some maneuvering. You bend your standing leg, then grip Paul’s curls with your freehand, pulling him just a little closer to your center. His tongue has slid down to your hole and bringing him closer has bumped his nose against your clit. The bud catches the ridge of it, and you shamelessly run your hips side to side in an attempt to catch it again. Paul, noticing your efforts, does it for you. 

He grabs your ass just a bit tighter, adjusting your robes with one hand before returning to his handfuls, and then he shakes his head just enough to provide the stimulation you were searching for. He dips his tongue into your entrance, brings it back out, and repeats the movement. Coupled with the alternating shake of his nose against your clit, and your recent abstinence, you are close sooner than you would have preferred. 

You sacrifice your minute control over him when you free his hair from your hands, and instead imprison the linen fabric of your gown within your grasp. You pull your garb up, scrunching the fabric into your hand to get a look at Paul. 

When his eyes are revealed, they are already casted up towards you. They crinkle at the corners as if he is smiling at you, and the shape you feel against your cunt is confirmation. When he peels away from you there is a visible erotic sheen across his lips. 

“I forgot how good you taste.” 

He speaks to you casually, in a fashion to the conversations of nonsensical small talk you had been subjected to earlier in the day. 

For some reason, this makes your head spin. 

You nudge your hips back in Paul’s direction and he does not have to be told to return to work. 

There is so much slip and slide between your legs that you cannot tell what is your arousal and what is his saliva. The combination of fluids multiples whenever Paul slides a finger in your entrance, slinking it along your insides before he finds the spot. He pays extra attention to it, watching you as he slips another finger in to join it without much time in between. 

You have not been aware of the volume of your moans until Paul begins to flick your clit with his tongue, after which a croaky sound slips past your lips and it is entirely too loud for the circumstances. 

Your hand slaps over your mouth before you can stop it. 

Paul shakes his head, removing his lips from you but not his fingers. He chastises you. 

“Don’t do that to me, my star.” 

That is all he has to say for you to remove your hand and continue to let the sounds that encourage him spill out. 

(Luckily, your sleeping quarters exist further away from the other’s.)

It is only a few more moments before your lower abdomen tenses and an orgasm seizes control of your body without much warning in advance. You grip your robes for stability, press your fingers into the glass of the window, and keep Paul close with your leg wound around his shoulders. 

He had no intention of leaving at all. He continues to lick at you, now incorporating a loud slurp that is seemingly intended to clean you up.

When the twitching of your muscles has ceased, both of your feet have rejoined the floor for only a minute before Paul has your legs wrapped around his waist. 

He carries you off towards your bed. 

“May I continue?” he asks as he lays you on your back at the foot of the furniture. 

There is no hesitation when you tell him, “Please do.” 

‎

You heard the hushed whispers echoing throughout the hall, spreading information that should have solely remained private to your personal quarters.

"They appear to be close. Too close," came from the voices of your maids, spoken with excitement as the thrill from sharing tales that did not concern them flooded their bodies. Like always, they were in small huddles, bodies curved into each other, their postings abandoned as they assumed that no Atreides would be wandering the halls at this house.

Except you were.

Your lightweight garbs noiselessly tap against your ankle with each careful step, freed from the extensive jewelry you were usually kept in throughout the day. As of late, your mother has been presenting you as a jewel in an attempt to delude the Houses into forgetting that you are a bastard. House Atreides wanted for you to be seen as the potential for great alliances. 

Paul was presented the same.

Marriage became the topic of conversation more often, and you and Paul played the parts you needed to. 

You played the parts necessary to continue this. 

His door is cracked just enough for you to silently slip in. 

“They were talking about us again.” The lack of romance within Paul’s greeting words do not matter as much when his hands wind around your hips. 

Still, you can’t help but tease him just a bit. Your hands find his shoulders, palms easily gliding back until you can comfortably tug at his dark curls. 

“Could you at least tell me you missed me before we dive into Castle gossip? What happened to romance, Paul?” 

He smiles at you like he had been expecting you to say something along those lines. He leans in, pressing his lips to your cheeks and then your nose.

“Hello, my love. How I’ve missed you so. I have no idea how I lasted this long without you.” He is exaggerating. It has only been a couple of days since you and Paul last met into the hours of the night. 

You scoff and gently slap his shoulders. You do not bother hiding the effect of his words on you. 

“I heard the maids talking on my way down here.” You dive into repeating the words echoing around the concrete castle walls, but the way Paul looks at you is distracting you. His green eyes plainly flicker from your eyes to your lips, back and forth, back and forth, with a speed that says he does not want to be caught in the act. His lips, slightly chapped but no less appealing, are parted, allowing his tongue to briefly appear before disappearing back into his mouth. 

You let your words taper off. 

“You can kiss me, you know.” 

He nods once. When he speaks, his voice is a gentle whisper. “I know. I just didn’t want to interrupt you.” 

“Luckily I’m done now.” 

Paul kisses you with familiarity. 

You knew that no matter what, you and Paul would be married off to others. But in your deluded mind, you figured that you might as well have fun while you could. You might as well pretend that Paul Atreides was yours, and you were his, until eventually that would be forced to change. 

[lex-the-flex]

Drinking the Water of Life

Paul Atreides x reader

He didn't want this. He never wanted this to happen. So why now? And why did it have to you?

From the moment Paul Atreides claimed his Fremen name, he prayed this wouldn't have to happen. But it did. While his mind was clear and open, yours remained foggy and closed off. If it was up to him, he would've kept you there, with your limited visions of the future.

But he loved you with all his heart.

And he couldn't see you suffer any longer without him. Paul chose you to rule at his side, after all.

Returning to your place in the shared communal room, Paul offers you a small smile before returning to his meal.

"How are you? I haven't seen you all day." He whispered so only you could hear.

"I'm alright. The water extractors are holding up. You should've seen all the packs I had to carry. Stilgar was impressed that I could carry thirty pounds for three straight miles." You explain.

Finally being able to relax at Paul's side, you notice how his blue within blue eyes look at you. While he's proud of you, something else lingers behind his orbs.

"Paul, what is it?" You ask.

Setting down his bowl, he takes your hands in his with a gentle grasp. Calmly stroking his fingers over your knuckles, he leans closer, his lips inches from your ear.

"I need you to travel South with me. Just the two of us, on a private mission before the others make the journey. I need you by my side, Y/N." He explains.

Calmly nodding your head, you instantly knew what he meant: you had to drink the Water of Life. The others knew it too, spreading rumors that stung like needles into your back. How you weren't worthy of loving Paul, the Muad'dib. Even the other Fremen began to question your loyalty.

As you were an outsider like Paul and his mother, Jessica, you remained faithful to House Atreides as it was one of the final commands given to you by Duke Leto himself. But now you had to truly prove yourself, you had to show everyone why Paul chose you above any other Fremen girl in your sietch.

"Okay, Paul. I will follow your hand until the very end. I will follow Muad'dib, my Usul, with an open heart." You declare as he pulls you in for a loving embrace.

*****

Guiding you further into the Southern temple, Paul never lets go of your hand. The beautiful sanctuary pulls you in with its calming circular architecture and stillness. Leading you to the main chamber, Paul is welcomed by another Fremen fundamentalist showing him the utmost respect.

Discovering a pool of water, you wander over to it before noticing the presence of a small sandworm swimming in the cloudy liquid. Scrunching your brows at the rapidly moving creature, Paul places his hand on your shoulder.

"It's time, Y/N."

Joining Paul and the Fremen member, she holds a jar containing a bright blue liquid that appears even sharper than the blue within blue eyes themselves. Feeling your breath catch in the back of your throat, you begin to panic, even taking a step away from Paul.

Placing a hand over your chest, your bare fingertips try to find solace in the sand covered stillsuit, and your own heartbeat echoes against your eardrums.

"It's alright. It's alright, Y/N. I'm here." Paul advises, leaning his forehead against yours.

Holding the nape of your neck in his hands, his dark curls tickle the edge of your face.

"I... I don't know if I can do this, Paul. I can't fail you." You say as your lip begins to quiver.

"You can. I believe in you. House Atreides believes you. You can do this, Y/N, just as your Usul before you." Paul replies, stroking your cheek.

Calming your breathing, you quietly nod before Paul, coming to your decision.

Laying down in between the stone pools, the Fremen offers you the glass bottle, lowering the top of the spout into your open mouth. Drinking the cold liquid, you swallow the water, and it enters your system. Taking your hand in his, Paul rubs your knuckles whilst your body goes numb.

Convulsing on the stone, every inch of your body writhes in pain, from the temples on your head, to your very reproductive system. A terrifying scream releases from your damp lips as the visions of the future, past, and present dance along the thin skin of your eyelids. Then, as soon as they appear, the prophecies of the future disappear within seconds.

You were cold, numb, in between the land of the living and the dead.

Offering the bottle to Paul, tears begin to fall on his face, and he mixes the salty drops with the freshwater.

Pressing the water to your lips, Paul bends down and kisses you lips, allowing you to return to him once more.

Feeling his lips leave your own, your eyes open, and you are awake. Your mind was open and Paul took you into his lap, studying your new set of eyes with all the love he could give you.

taglist ~

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[crystalskiesandcherrywine]

The sound of the waves collide // Part One

Hello everyone, this is my first time writing. I just couldn't stop thinking about Feyd and how his story could have been different. So please don't be too hard on this. This is just the first part and I cannot wait to write more (smutty) chapters.

By the way, I cannot listen to Deftones without thinking of him.

______

Na Baron Feyd Rautha x Atreides!Reader

FxM

All feedback is welcome <3

____

You are Paul´s sister and after his love match to Princess Irulan it is on you to marry Na Baron Feyd ratha Harkonnen. And while you fear the unknown, there is a feeling in your gut that it may be more right for you than anything else in the known universe.

Part One // Part Three // Part Four

1.209 words

_________________________________________

There was no turning back once the decision was made. You were destined to marry Feyd Rautha and bear his heir, the Kwizadz Chaderach. It meant leaving behind your home, your family and though you never expected to miss her, even the Reverend Mother who visited your family so often. All the time you had spent learning the ways of the Bene Gesserit, the education your mother had given you it seems like they could continue forever. Only now did you understand the sadness that flickered in your mother's eyes when you complained about the long hours of the voice rehearsing or the never-ending combat training. She knew, even before you were conceived, that they were counted. Time was almost an abstract concept to you - the passing of the day in your home, surrounded by the warmth and love of your family, was such a natural environment f, while your mother knew full well that you would leave them when the time came. 

____

The news of your impending betrothal was so sudden and yet so expected. Paul's marriage to the Princess Irulan had been planned for some time and would take place in two weeks' time. 

"We will travel to the Padisha Empreros home for the celebration." Duke Leto announced. You will also meet your fiancé there. A week after that he will take you to Geidi Prime". 

You nodded briefly - there was no argument. And your pride would not allow it - after all, it would mean disappointing not only your father, but everyone in your family who poured their love, knowledge and kindness into your upbringing and training. But you couldn't help but notice a slight tension in Paul's muscles and jaw as he listened to your father speak.

As you left your father's hall, you took his hands in yours and let him out into the courtyard where you would be undisturbed. Lush green grass swallowed the sound of your footsteps and fresh sea air touched your skin. This palace was always your home and with Paul always at your side it felt like the most safe space in the universe. Not even the test by your Reverend Mother, the danger of the Gom Jabbar at your neck, the pain of the metal box she used could change that.

"Don't worry about me, brother" 

"And yet I do. Feld Ruatha is a brave warrior, but he is not known for his kindness. Rumours of his violent outbursts are well known. And his concubines are said to be vile creatures who feast on human flesh and encourage him to take pleasure in the pain of others. Baron Vladimir has moulded him into a being without fear, but also without pity. He has passed the test as we have, and yet I am not sure he is truly human". 

You felt a mixture of fear and anger rise in you. 

"And yet my fate is sealed, as is yours. There is no way out, so let us not wish for one".

Suddenly, Paul pulled you into an embrace so tight it almost knocked the air out of your lungs. 

"May your heart stay as brave as it is now, dear sister." 

And then you cannot hold back the tears, feeling the sense of security and love that seems to escape you with every passing heartbeat.

___

The preparations for your departure are a whirlwind. Paul's belongings, his books and his swords are gathered, as are yours. When almost everything is packed, you find a small glass box with a tiny fir tree inside and a note from your father, "A bit of home to take with you". Carefully, you place the box on top of the things you have already collected. But then you decide otherwise and place it next to a smaller box containing your jewelry, to be transported to your cabin instead of the cargo. 

Your brother's wedding to Princess Irulan attracts all the Great Houses to the Emperor's planet Kaitain. There are more ships than you can count, and even more navigators from the Space Guild, their faces covered with a sickly cloud of smoke from under their helmets. All of them dependent on spice. The one fabric that seems to bind all your worlds together. With Paul marrying the Irulan princes and taking over Arrakis, the Harkonnens could not simply be cast aside. So the Emperor made your match with his heir Na Baron Feud Rautha. Or so he thinks, and yet it was Bene Gesserit's plan all along. Princess Irulan seems to understand this too, for she sends for you the day after your arrival. You feel honoured by the invitation, but also a little nervous. As soon as you enter her chamber, you curtsy to her. 

"Princess, thank you for the invitation" 

"Please call me Irulan, as we are to be family for three days. Please join me for a walk"

You nod and follow her through the light-filled halls. Hers and your ladies-in-waiting follow close behind.

"I have a present for you," she says, her eyes twinkling. 

You are not sure what to make of it. You are both familiar with the teachings of the Bene Gesserit, and you know that the gift is more than just that. You enter a small room with a single table and a small metal plate on it. "It is a book about the Harkonnen, their house and their planet Geidi Prime. You can find any information that might be useful." Your cheeks flush pink as you realize the meaning. Princess Irulan knows what her love match with Paul has cost you. That he should have been a girl to marry a Harkonnen and yet Lady Jessica decided otherwise and by disobeying her orders made you the one to live on the inhospitable planet.

"Thank you for your generosity, Irulan"

"There is nothing to thank me for," she says, leaving you alone in the room.

As soon as you have returned to your chambers, you will find Lady Jessica waiting for you. 

"You are to meet Feyd Rautha tonight before the banquet."

"I understand." 

"This is your chance to make the right impression. Remember, fear is a small death"

"Yes, mother."

A lush green dress has been laid out for you, with small gold clasps at the shoulders and tiny glass beads forming leaf shapes around the bodice and hood of the dress. As the dress reaches the floor, it still feels as if you are not wearing enough to protect yourself. As your ladies-in-waiting prepare your hair, you try to calm yourself. When all is said and done, your family is summoned to the Emperor's Hall - as soon as you enter it feels like your skin is on fire, you feel like someone is watching you and then your eyes meet a muscular figure standing at the feet of the emperor´s throne. He is more of a statue, perhaps, than he is a man - hairless, with trained muscles and contrasting black uniform and piercing blue eyes. Everything else seems to fade away, narrowed down to this moment, your heartbeat and the intense gaze of Na Baron Feed Rautha Harkonnen.

[multific]

A Love’s Worth

Duke Leto Atreides x Reader

Words: 3.2K

Summary: You changed for a man, a man you loved with all of your heart. Even if your look on life was different.  

After your marriage to Leto you had to abandon your home and your life. You learned to be a Lady, wife of a leader. 

You were no longer allowed to do the things you loved before all because you fell in love with Leto.

You knew who he was, you knew what people expected from him, you knew the same will be expected from you if you marry him.

But you loved him too much.

You left your home to be with him.

And he loved you. Oh how much he loved you. You were his everything, the love of his life, the mother to his child.

When Paul was born you felt love like never before. Suddenly, you didn't care about anything else but him. Your little boy and your husband became the two most important, nothing else mattered.

"Mommy, can you tell me again about your home?" asked Paul with shiny eyes. The barely four-year-old little man loved your bedtime stories.

"It is called, Kaidis. It is said the grass is greener there. Many animals roam the lands and the entire planet is a big forest."

"What kind of animals?" he asked as you tucked him in.

"All kinds, wolves, big cats, horses, zebras, but most importantly, dragons."

"Wooow."

"Dragons are the protectors of my planet, they are wise, strong and loyal. It is said that every person with Kaidis' blood has a dragon."

"Do you have one Mommy?"

"I sure do. A beautiful white one, I used to ride with her, fly in the sky and help people when I was young. Her name is-"

"Devora." Paul finished for you, knowing the story very well.

"Yes, and-"

"You should be asleep." came a voice from behind you, both you and Paul looked at your husband in the doorway.

"Mom was just finishing up her stories, Father." said Paul as he pouted.

"You should sleep now." Leto said again and you kissed Paul's head.

"Do as your Father says." you said before standing up and heading out.

"Mommy?"

"Yes?" you turned to look at Paul as you stood beside Leto.

"Do you think I have a dragon?" his question made you smile.

"Of course, you have, Sweetheart." Paul nodded, satisfied before he turned to sleep while you and Leto headed for your chambers.

"You should stop telling him useless stories." you turned from your dresser to look at Leto. "You are filling his mind with useless things. He should prepare to become Duke, not listen to fairy tales and creatures that don't exist."

"But they do exist."

"Stop it! Your delusion will harm our son." he let out a sigh. "Please, My Love, don't fill his head with useless stuff."

It hurt, it really did. You knew that people believe the people of Kaidis are delusional and weak. You knew they didn't believe your stories, your creatures. In the eyes of others, everyone was a liar, dragons didn't exist, no huge wolves or cats. They didn't listen to the forest.

And you were okay with that, if they wanted to be blind, so be it.

But the fact that your own husband didn't even let you tell your stories to your own child, hurt on another level.

"I won't tell him anything anymore. I promise." Leto gave you a nod as he rounded the bed and laid down. 

---

Throughout the years, you kept your promise. No matter how much Paul would ask for stories, you didn't tell him anything.

And now, as he grew older, it seemed as if he forgot everything you told him. 

He became a true Atreides. A true leader.

And with the love you and Leto gave him, you both knew, one day he will be a great leader himself.

"My Duke you have an invitation to the planet Chusuk. Their leader, house of Terra invited you and many other lords. Looks like from all over the system."

"We will go, Steve Terra is an old friend of House Atreides, and I'm interested in what he has to say. Paul is coming with me." Leto nodded as he finished his food.

"And the Lady?" asked a maid, presumably she wished to know if she needed to pack your dresses.

"No, she is not required." Leto's answer was immediate and you felt yourself sinking back into your chair.

While it was true that lately your husband and you haven't been on good terms, this was something else.

You had an argument when he wanted to rebuild your gardens. Your gardens. The one you grew yourself. He wanted to just demolish it all because as he said 'It didn't please his eyes' but you have grown to love those plants, you swore they spoke with you as you helped them grow. 

Just another thing your husband took away from you, your marriage has grown cold, and you suspected he had lovers. Whores. Although you had no proof, even just the thought made you ill.

They left the next day to visit house Terra, while you stayed home.

"My Lady, we have a ship incoming." said Duncan as he approached. The poor soul was left with you to take care of you. You did like the man so, you had no issues with him as your bodyguard for the time being.

"Are they already home?"

"Not our ship."

When you saw the ship, you immediately gave permission for it to land.

It was your sister.

"My sister it has been so long." you said as you hugged her and she hugged you back.

"I came because we received an invite from Terra."

"So did we, Paul and Leto already left."

"The invite was sent out to all leaders, and technically, you are the leader of Kaidis. So, I came to you sister and ask you to represent your home."

"I am not able to you know that, I gave you power when I married."

"I am aware, but I can't go myself, I have other matters so, please represent Kaidis, My Queen."

You should have asked further questions, you should have told her no, you were a part of the house of Atreides no longer the Princess of Kaidis.

But then why were you on this ship? Why were you changing into appropriate clothes? And why were you smiling so much? And why was Duncan also changing?

---

"My dear old friend, Leto."

"Hi Steve." the two leaders greeted one another as Leto got off of his ship. "My son, Paul." 

"Last time I saw you, you were still in your mother." Steve said with a smile. "Good to see you grew up into a strong man, given your mother... But we are not here to talk about that."

Paul made a face, understanding the implication the man just made about his mother he expected his father to take action. 

When his father did nothing Paul felt a pain in his heart. 

Then another ship landed, all men heard it but didn't react as Leto went over with Paul to greet another House.

Then the announcer said, out loud.

"The Queen of Kaidis from House Y/L/N." this made almost everyone turn.

Just in time to see you walk towards them, a long robe following you, your hair curled, your skin glowing. Your dress all earth tones, littered with stones and gems. Your crown is simple, on your forehead.

You walked so elegantly. You looked like a real Goddess.

Everyone's eyes were on you.

Paul did notice Idaho behind his mother, following closely in similar clothing.

"Queen... so old fashioned." Paul heard someone mention as he turned and gave them a look.

"Didn't expect the Queen herself." Steve stepped over and kissed your knuckles. 

"The Queen couldn't come, so she asked me."

"Technically you are still the Queen so..."

"Exactly her words. But my sister did send gifts." you mentioned as people started to bring in chests. "Hope you and your wife will enjoy them."

Steve made a face seeing the gifts.

"How did you know?" he asked with a low voice.

"We always know." you smiled before heading to greet the others. 

"Mother, didn't expect to see you here." said Paul as he stepped over to you. "You look... amazing." you smiled.

"Thank you, Love." you turned to Leto, and offered him a smile.

Leto looked at his man as if expecting him to do something. But Idaho only smiled at his Duke.

"You should have seen her smile, My Duke." he said as he followed you towards the others.  

House Terra had a gorgeous palace. Lots of open spaces.

During lunch, Steve Terra announced the reason he gathered everyone. His wife standing beside him, you already knew.

"I gathered everyone here to announce that my wife is expecting our first child." amazing news, you smiled and clapped as everyone else.

Lunch went on as some Lords offered their... services... for you, which you all declined, but everyone could feel the cold air between you and Leto.

It surely didn't stop people from making comments. Paul heard them all. They were mainly about your title, family and beliefs.

"Did you know they believe in dragons?" one lord said with a disgusting tone.

"Delusional women. This is exactly why I wouldn't have one on the throne or in power." replied the other. 

Their conversation made Paul disgusted as he felt anger rising in him, not only towards the lords but his father, who sat there listening to all of this, not doing anything.

But the mention of Dragons did open Paul's eyes. Suddenly as if his memories were locked away, everything came back like a cold shower. 

The stories you told him as a child about these magical beings. 

Paul looked at his father, who only took a sip from his drink.

"She betrayed us." Leto said barging into his chambers after lunch, Paul following closely. 

"She did not." Paul argued.

"She appeared out of her House, she represented the House Y/L/N when she is house Atreides."

"She didn't do anything that would mean be-"

"Why are you arguing with me Paul?" Leto turned to his son.

"Because no one seems to realize that she is my mother. Not even you, Father. You keep going on about betrayal and all those when we know it is not the case. She said it herself, her sister couldn't appear so she came. It is no betrayal. The real betrayal is that I never even knew I had an aunt."

"Paul-" Leto started but Paul cut him off.

"You are a great father, no doubt about that, but you never stand up for her, never protect her." Paul watched as his father got angry. But he didn't stop. "These people have been talking badly about her from the moment we arrived and you did nothing. Do you even love her?" Leto shot a glare at Paul. "Then act like it, because I'm not sure if she knows anymore."

Leto hated to admit but his son was right. 

He fucked up and now he needed to apologize. But how can one simply apologize for all those years?

Leto found you in the gardens, of course. You looked at all the different flowers as you smiled at them.

"You are growing nicely, I used to have one just like you." you said and the pain in Leto's heart grew.

He made a small noise to alert you of his presence as you turned to look at him. When you saw him, you turned back to the flower and he decided to be honest and frank.

"How could I apologize for a lifetime of mistakes I have made?"

"Maybe, an 'I'm so sorry, My Love'? Could be a start." you said as you kneeled and pulled out a weed from beside the flower.

"I know it wouldn't be enough, no matter how many times I say this but I truly am very sorry, My Love. My Father fed me these lies about your people, and I was no better once I grew up. And I did the same to Paul. They say your people are blind but it is not true, we are blind, you see the beauty most people walk right past. I'm sorry for not being better. I'm sorry for locking you out and for all those things I said. I truly love you and I hope that one day you can forgive me." by the time he finished you stood up and turned to him.

You are pleased to not see the great Duke in front of you but instead that boy you met and fell in love with many nights ago. You opened your mouth, trying to form the question you feared getting an answer to for the last months. Leto, as if reading your mind replied.

"I do not have any lovers, never did, never will. You are the one I love and crave, no one else. I beg you to give me another chance and be your husband, a better husband."

"Each time you looked at me like I was some crazy old lady, it hurt. I couldn't tell Paul about my home, about who I used to be. It did hurt but nothing hurt more than when you push me away. I know you are busy and that you have responsibilities and duties and whatnot. I do not expect for you to arrive back to me, ready to hear me talk when you heard people talk all day. I do not expect you to touch me every night. But a small kiss and a gentle greeting would be appreciated. I love you Leto, which is why I stayed and it will never change. I will stay with you as I vowed but I don't want to hide anymore."

"And you don't have to. We will build a new garden, I kept some of your flowers, I'm sorry for taking that away from you. In my eyes, it symbolized my failure as a husband, and I couldn't look at it."

"We will rebuild." you took a step, placing your hand against his cheek as you smiled. Rebuild your garden and your relationship.

Leto leaned over and placed a kiss on your lips. Something you missed greatly. 

"We can fix this, I know we can." he said as he pulled back.

"We will." you smiled again.

---

Kaidis was a planet Paul imagined during his childhood but even his imagination couldn't be as amazing as it really was.

The trees, the flowers and so so many animals.

"They are all tame, even the largest ones, if you wish to pet them." you told Paul as his eyes shined, much like how they did when he was a child.

As you all got off the ship, your sister greeted you all. Hugging Paul.

"You were only a baby when I last saw you, you grew a lot." she said as Paul smiled, his aunt was just as lovely and caring as his mother, he definitely saw the resemblance. 

"It's time for you to see the other side of your blood. You were born to be an Atreides, but you are also a Y/L/N." she said as she grabbed his arm and guided him. You and Leto stayed behind, letting Paul on his own.

"I want you to meet someone." you said to Leto as he followed you through the garden into the woods.

"She is here somewhere." you said as Leto watched all kinds of animal scatter as they saw him.

"What are those?" he said pointing at an animal he has never saw before.

"Deers. Their antlers are quite something right? They are gentle but they don't trust people." you grabbed his hand as you guided him. Much like a child he pointed at every other animal asking what it was and you explained.

Then a noise Leto has never heard before. A cold shiver ran down his spine as he looked around with alarm. 

"It's okay." you told your husband as you took another step towards the clearing in the woods. "Devora." you said as you saw the huge beast emerge from the woods. 

Leto was not the kind of man who got scared easily. But this thing, it was huge, with even bigger teeth and wings. It was white but it also weirdly shined in the light. 

"Dragon." he said as you rushed over to this huge beast. "Y/N!" he meant to yell at you, stop you but you didn't, all he saw was you running into your death with open arms.

"I missed you my friend." you said as you touched its head. The giant beast laid on the ground, allowing you to pet it. "He's my husband, be nice." you told her before you turned back to Leto.

"It's okay, she won't hurt you."

"Are you sure?"

"Do you think I'd let her eat you?"

"After I destroyed your garden... perhaps?"

"Well, okay, but still, come."

He took slow steps as he watched this huge dragon, when it moved even if it was just a small movement, Leto stopped as you giggled.

"Come on, she won't hurt you. She listens to me."

"How could you tame a beast like her?"

"How could you tame a beast like me, My Duke?" he wanted to laugh but the dragon moved and he forgot to breathe. Leto looked into it's yellow eyes as he touched her.

"Dragons are real, and as much as the entire galaxy wants it to believe that we are all delusional, we aren't."

"Why don't you show them then?"

"They are not worthy to know, as you said, they are blind. And dragons are at least safe like this. No one comes to hunt them or hurt them. I will rather be called a delusional woman than let anyone hurt these precious beings."

Oh how much he loved you was beyond every word. 

"Let's go for a fly!" you said as you started to move towards the back of Devora. 

"What? Fly? On this thing?"

"Is it that the mighty Duke Atreides is scared?"

"I'm not scared of flying planes, ships but a dragon..."

"You can fly all the ships and planes, I fly dragons."

In the end you tricked him, pulled him close enough for Devora to move and he ended up behind you in her saddle. And up up up she went.

Through the clouds, Leto could barely breathe. The experience was entirely different from flying a ship. He felt so free.

So free and so in love. His arm moved from around you and reached out to a cloud.

"I'm so sorry."

"I forgive you. You couldn't have known."

"I should have listened when you told Paul. I shouldn't have told you to stop. This world is beyond everything. I love you so much." he placed a kiss onto your shoulder as you took Devora down, going back to the palace.

"Mother! Is that?" asked Paul as he rushed over to you.

"Devora." you told him as he smiled.

"Wow."

Leto moved as he pulled you close to him and kissed you. It was weird to kiss him like this, but you did feel the fire in him reignite. 

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~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

             DO NOT REPOST OR TRANSLATE ANY OF MY WORKS

[mousyatlas]

prompt from: @rabbitbites: modern au where feyd and paul are fwb, feyd wants to be more, but Paul is still trying to get over the loss of his father and breaking things off with chani and they have an angsty make out sesh about it [note: mature.]

The campus courtyard was a busy place. Off-world students enjoyed the splendor of Caladan. Those who grew up on the ocean planet continued to bask in the dreary rain and lush, green surface of the farming district. Paul Atreides had been born and bred on Caladan, sequestered to an estate near the sea where his father once oversaw the political wellness of its citizens. Leto’s death still turned Paul’s stomach. Eight months since the accident, still a wound too raw and festering to ignore.

Rain fell in drizzly sheets across the university and Paul walked through it without bothering to pop open his umbrella. Water beaded on his forehead and streaked his face, but he didn’t mind. He walked past one of the square lecture halls and cut across the lawn in front of the library and then made his way through the iron gates, stepping up onto a damp sidewalk. His phone buzzed in his pocket.

[feyd] you want a beer

Paul typed out whatever you’re having and hit send.

This quarter was almost over which meant Paul would have to start preparing the syllabus for next quarter. There was always an influx of students in the spring, cramming to get seats in prized classes with experienced professors. Paul Atreides, well, Professor Atreides taught a history class specializing in sietch formation on Arrakis, home of spice. And home of Chani Kynes, who would soon return to the desert planet, called back to her upbringing by golden dunes and Shai Hulud. By an unflinching duty to her people. Things hadn’t been the same between them since his father had died. They weren’t technically together anymore, they weren’t officially apart either. She had a key to his loft; he knew the code to her garage. She cooked him delicacies from Arrakis sometimes; he brought her boba and sushi sometimes. They slept together because it felt right. Because they didn’t have much time left and she knew his body, and he knew hers. Because for the last two years, Paul had loved her, and she had loved him.

Losing Leto changed everything though.

It started small, the grief binge, chasing adrenaline. Paul drank a six-pack one night, then a fifth of liquor the next. He went out with one his students after that, railing spice cut with something from Kaitain at a nightclub in the city. That same night, he met someone. Handsome, trouble. In his right mind, Paul would’ve walked away. But Feyd-Rautha, dressed in a fitted black long-sleeve, leather belt cinched around dark denim, had looked at Paul from across the dancefloor. They became fast friends, laughing under bright neon. Paul left with him, found something greasy at a food truck, agreed to meet again another night. Post-work drinks, like the one he was about to have, turned into time spent at Paul’s loft, watching a filmbook or cooking together, talking about the band Feyd-Rautha was in, one he couldn’t seem to get off the ground, or meeting at Feyd-Rautha’s apartment to play a boardgame or catch up. They commiserated about lost family. Feyd let Paul listen to unreleased music and Paul waxed poetic about the Known Universe. The first time Paul kissed Feyd-Rautha on the mouth at a nightclub, his mind had been glittering with spice, bloodstream tainted with whisky. They’d fucked in the bathroom like clumsy teenagers, Feyd’s palm rucked up Paul’s shirt, Paul’s pants pushed to his thighs, Feyd trapping him against the stall, chewing at his throat, and Paul spending at the first breath Feyd sent coasting along his earlobe. In the morning, they vowed to never do it again. Two days later, Paul showed up at Feyd’s apartment, sober but lonely, and Feyd didn’t turn him away.

Since then, for a handful of months, Paul Atreides and Feyd-Rautha met to talk, drink, fuck, read together, kiss lazily on the couch, share meals, fall asleep. Feyd was Paul’s friend, in a way.

Paul shouldered through the door at a small dive bar near Feyd’s apartment and took off his coat, draping it over his arm as he approached a dingy booth across from a dartboard. Feyd sat with his eyes on his phone, flicking through social media. His fair skin was warming as winter gave way to spring, but nothing could completely chase the milky glow from his complexion. He wore a leather jacket, one Paul had seen many times, and glanced at him as he fell into the booth opposite him.

“Got you a red,” Feyd said, knuckling a frosty glass toward him.

Paul nodded. “Appreciate it.”

“You go to therapy today?”

He took a long drink. “Can we not — "

“So, no,” Feyd grumbled.

“I don’t need grief therapy, I’m fine.”

“If a therapist opened a textbook right now and pointed to potential grief therapy client, your face would be on the page.”

Paul shifted his jaw. “I’m figuring it out on my own.”

Feyd-Rautha furrowed his naked brow and gave a single nod. “You following Chani to Arrakis?”

“Not yet, no.”

“Yet.”

“Feyd…” Paul heaved a sigh and took long pull from his beer. They’d talked about it before. The idea of them. Usually drunk, usually in bed or tucked away in the dark. But they had talked about it. And Paul knew, despite Feyd-Rautha’s stoic demeanor and cold exterior, that he wanted more than what they had. More than friendship pushed to the brink of catastrophe.

The longer Paul used Feyd like a coping mechanism, the more entangled they’d become. Paul knew that already. He’d known that since the start. 

“Look, I can’t…” Feyd paused to breathe. His jaw slackened and he talked with his hands, knuckles flexed, long fingers bent oddly to match his mood. Frantic, anxious. Angry. “I won’t keep doing this, okay? It’s not good for me, it’s definitely not good for you.”

“Yeah, and what’s good for me?”

“Sobriety, probably,” Feyd deadpanned, gesturing to the almost empty beer. “Stability. Therapy. Enough sleep.”

“And what if I don’t want you to be good for me?”

Feyd snapped. “You think I don’t know how we got here? C’mon, Paul. I’m not exactly your type.”

Paul felt the comment before it came out, barbed and hot. “You’re not, no.”

“Okay,” Feyd heaved a sigh, defeated, and stood. He threw a few bills onto the table and walked away.

Paul listened to the hard pound of his boots on the floor. A part of him, the stubborn part, fully intended to stay seated and let him go. But the part of Paul Atreides who loved how Feyd laughed and curled close to him at night and ate popcorn with him at the theater and panted in his lap was stronger than the grief-stricken young man left in Leto’s shadow. Paul finished his beer and darted after him, catching Feyd by the elbow outside the bar.

“I’m sorry,” he blurted, squeezing Feyd’s arm hard. “I’m sorry, you know I’m sorry.”

“I don’t, actually,” Feyd said, yanking away. He turned down an alley, trudging into the dark. Rain fell a little harder, splattering his leather jacket. He angled his mouth over his shoulder. “What’re you sorry for?”

Paul stomped after him, pawing at his shoulder. “We’re here because I’m a mess,” he confessed, halting Feyd in his tracks. “Because I met you and I liked you and — ”

Feyd whirled on him. His strong hand landed at the base of his throat. He pushed him backward, sealing him against the concrete, and seized his neck, angling his face upward. “And?”

 “And you make it easy. This, us, it’s easy,” he said, sighing. “Don’t take it from me yet. Please,” he whispered, craning against Feyd’s hold. “Let me keep you a little longer.”

Feyd-Rautha kissed a fire into him. Paul hardly had time to register he was being kissed at all until Feyd was prying at his mouth, licking between his lips, breathing hard. The cold rain kept falling, and Paul reached for Feyd’s face, cupping his cheek, then palmed his nape, hauling him closer. Feyd’s teeth slipped across his bottom lip. Paul nipped at his mouth, chasing the sensation.

“I might not be your type, but you’re mine, you hear me?” Feyd rasped, biting tenderly on the slope of Paul’s jaw. “You’re mine.”

“I’m a liar,” Paul said, gulping in air before he ducked down, searching for Feyd’s plump mouth. “You’re exactly my type, exactly.”

[andmaybegayer]

I rewatched Dune P.1 and it was a good idea. I got Catsed.

Getting Catsed

When I watched Cats The Musical The Movie for the first time I was like yeah, this is good, this is a weird way to go about it but I enjoyed this. The second time I watched it I was like hang on. This is missing crucial information that makes it really bad. I just filled in the things I know about Cats because I've had a twenty minute rundown of the complete plot of Cats loaded up and ready to go since I was 8.

To be clear Dune is good despite me getting Catsed. But it's missing so much stuff that it's a really different experience from reading the books. There's almost no politics! Which makes sense and arguably makes more sense if you're planning to make Dune Messiah and the rest, Paul wins politics at the end of Dune and fundamentally cannot be politically challenged after that, he's the Emperor, all his drama is Messiah-related.

All the obsessively detailed stuff about the Harkonnen-Atreides feud and links to the ancient Earth and the Empire's power and the spacing guild is not actually very important unless you really like the fun precise politicking of the houses. You can even comprehend Farad'n without really getting into the politics, you can just give his mother a personal desire for the throne.

Visual Style

Anyway that aside one of the things that stands out about the aesthetics of Dune is how much every scene looks like DeviantArt Concept Art drawn by a fan of the books. Detailed things are really detailed but there's very little clutter.

When the Hunter-Killer goes for Paul he's in his barren-ass concrete bedroom but the headboard of the bed is a super detailed gilt fish thing and that's a thing that's mentioned explicitly in the books!

When they're packing up Caladan there's a bunch of guys standing around huge empty caverns loading very specific items into crates.

The stillsuits and thopters are really gorgeously detailed mechanical things, every stillsuit has little unique features, but the landing fields are just open sweeping concrete, the city is monolithic sandstone that looks like an architectural scale model, it works and I think we're going to see a lot of people copying this style and getting it wrong by not having any of the details.

[mariusreviews]

“the visions are clear now. I see possible futures, all at once. our enemies are all around us, and in so many futures they prevail. but I do see a way, there is a narrow way through.”

dune: part two review.

as a massive fan of the books and having loved the first film by denis villeneuve, I would be lying if I said this wasn’t my most anticipated release of the year. the film picks up right where the first part concludes, with the fremen still transporting the body of jamis after he was defeated in a duel by our protagonist, paul atreides. after the destruction of their house by the hands of rivals house harkonnen, he and his mother, lady jessica, commence on a treacherous journey to avenge their fallen house. throughout the span of the film, the characters face a variety of issues delving into themes of fascism, imperialism, and resistance.

with dune: part two, denis villeneuve manages to create a visually breathtaking masterpiece that is distinctly his own. the film resonates with raw intensity, heightened by its immersive sound design and remarkable visual imagery. hans zimmer somehow manages to create an epic masterpiece yet again with this score, and he is undoubtedly one of the best to ever do it.

as of the acting everything was on point. rebecca ferguson as lady jessica is simply an outstanding casting choice. her performance in this film was ruthless, terrifying, and transcendental, just to put a few words on it. she managed to capture my attention in every single scene she was in with her very raw and real acting. timothée chalamet and zendaya both delivered solid performances as well. it is safe to say, that the future of the film industry is in good hands with these two leading the pack.

in terms of criticism there were a few scenes from the book I would have loved to see on screen, but I understand the implications, and some of them would have been hard to translate to the big screen. however, I do trust villeneuve's vision, and I still came out of the cinema feeling very good about it. It’s definitely the best book-to-screen adaptation I’ve watched in a very long time.

| 5STARS ***** |

[1slxt1]

Bride

Atreides!Reader x Feyd Rautha Harkonnen

____________________________________________

Chapter II

____________________________________________

The sound of footsteps echoed through the hallway. Shuffling feet, hushed voices. Or not. Some did not bother to talk quietly.

Whispers of shocking news coursing around the keep.

“-married to a Harkonnen..-”

“..terrible, terrible news-”

“I heard that the young mistress..-”

Gasps and shushing being uttered was as common as the rain on Caladan the past week, it seems.

Specifically, the young Miss did not exit her room if not directly summoned. Rumors that she was sulking, plotting an escape, or anything else did not help with the recent news of her arranged marriage.

Most of the servants avoided entering your room as they would hurry to tell everyone how depressed you had been. It was more of a mix of anxiety and sheer fear, but nonetheless not aiding your situation.

Paul has been great company, bringing you most meals and eating next to you. You enjoyed spending some time with your cousin, as it was likely he'll never be able to contact you once you’re shipped off to the hell hole.

News of who your betrothed would be had not arrived yet, but still, you were still quietly hoping it would not end up being Glossu Rabban.

The Bene Gesserit witches seemed to be coming to your home planet much more often these days. Always one or two spotted around your home. Watching.

But who?

Assuming it was you, no reason could be found except maybe a plot for escape. Your aunt? You knew she loved you very much but would not do anything to stop them. She had already disobeyed direct orders by birthing Paul, or so you have heard.

It was all irrelevant anyways. It was as if you could feel the phantom touch of the cursed promise on the nape of your neck. Quietly hovering there, the disgusting breath of it making you nauseous.

Your room felt eerily empty as you looked at it thoroughly. Almost naked. One of the things the cursed witches made you do was pack. Clothes, belongings, everything was packed.

They were ready to just ship you off as a moment’s notice. Why was this marriage so urgent to them? Why you, out of all people?

Your parents’ will. They had offered it to you to read, but you declined at the sight of dried brown blotches on it. A digital version was promptly sent to you, with no blemishes. Kindness? Or a silent reminder?

The doors to your room opening abruptly startled you, as it took quite some force to open them as swiftly as your guest did.

Paul stood in the doorway, looking at you with a wild glint in his eyes. You stood up from your place on the bed as he nodded quietly.

“A message from Geidi Prime has arrived. My parents and the witches are holding a meeting, I was told to notify you, you will be told as soon as they finish.”

He approached you, sadness taking over his gaze as he embraced you. You returned it, reveling in what could be one of the last moments with your dearest cousin. Your best friend. Your other half.

It was more than probable the beasts wouldn't allow you contact with family.

Paul was breathing deeply, you felt the rapid beats of his heart. Frustration. Fury. Pain. Anxiety. It pained you to see him like this.

For years you spied on whatever lessons Jessica had with him, as she was insistent to not include you. Paul would usually tell you afterwards anyways, but it did not have the same effect.

You spied in on them as a child, learning some of the witch-teachings. How to pitch your voice to make someone do your bidding, how to speak in secret languages known only to some and much more. Hopefully enough to help you survive when they throw you to the dogs.

Paul let go of you, holding onto your hand.

“I know my mother did not birth you, but you are and forever will be my sister. My kin. I truly love you as my own, and I will never allow any Harkonnen to lay hands on you, lay his gaze on you the wrong way.”

His eyes screamed fury, a raging promise to the threat looming not so far away. You laid your other hand on top of his.

“I will do my best to make this house proud, brother. I will not allow myself to be walked upon like a doormat by the rabid animals. If they wish to cut me off, my letters will be smuggled to you.”

Paul nodded in approval, smiling the true smile of the duke he would grow to be. A formidable ruler. You envied him a bit, for he did not have deceased parents that decided to marry him off out of lunatic depression.

A knock sounded at your door. You knew who was summoning you even before you stepped foot out of your room, Paul following suit.

As you walked towards your uncle’s council room, you traced the rough rock from which the keep was hewn.

From which your home was hewn.

Caladan.

The place where your heart lay, since birth and until your death. No other planet in the universe could compare to the green, rainy plains of Caladan.

Both you and your cousin remained silent the entire trek to the room. Your fate would be determined in that place in no more than half an hour. Such a small period of time, you thought to yourself. Only a week ago you thought you had all the time in the world.

Tiles that made up the colorful floor beneath seemed so dull coloured in the setting sun as you made your way over to the meeting.

Searching for that pang of horror, of the shock, only for it to be nowhere found in the pits of your stomach was surprising. As if it were a silent reminder this was your duty as an Atreides, and no amount of sulking would change it. Sulking would not prove useful to you anyways.

Your femininity were the chains that bound you to the promise your parents made. In a twisted way you envied Paul, for he could choose what, or rather who he could marry.

The large windows of Caladan castle illuminated the dust in the air, warm light falling in streams on the stone floor. You felt the warm, moist air setting down like a draped curtain over your senses.

A few hooded women stood before the doors of your uncle’s council room. Guarding? Or making sure you came?

It did not matter anyways, running away from this marriage would be considered treason over the Harkonnens, and would surely deepen the feud of your two families, if not even open a war.

You entered the room, your aunt and uncle sitting at the head of the table, the Reverend Mother taking a place to their left.

Mistrust.

You and Paul hot seated to their right, taking note of the metal scroll laying proudly on the table. Unopened. You looked at the blood red wax that held it closed, Harkonnen emblem engraved in it. Angular droplet fiercely staring back at you from the wax. It looked like blood.

Without bothering to ask for permission, you reached for it, snapping open the lid and watching the wax tear from its sides. Sliding out the letter, you skimmed your eyes over its contents.

The room was in stiffening silence, only the steady rhythm of rain trickling on the windows cutting through the silence.

“Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear.”

A clang echoed through Castle Caladan as you tossed the message on the rock hewn table. It bounced miserably a few times, then landed at the hands of your family.

“Feyd Rautha Harkonnen.”

You announced as your uncle and aunt read through the scroll, eyes darting over the text inscribed on its smooth metal surface. The letter was handed over, circling as you sat opposite to the Reverend Mother.

Her eyes glittered like jewels under the layers of veils she wore. Boring into you, as if her arms stretched through your chest and penetrated your very soul.

“Feyd Rautha Harkonnen.”

You repeated, eyes flying to your face. You would not let them see any fear, for sniveling wouldn’t do anything.

You almost felt embarrassed for acting like a child at your family meeting. A shaking mess. You must have appeared a scared little girl.

“I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past, I will turn the inner eye to see its path.”

Paul stood up and left the room. You knew he would be reprimanded for it later, but it made no use to hide how upset he was

Your eyes followed him as he left, your uncle following suit soon. Most probably for show, but still the room remained silent. The doors slammed after them.

Jessica took hold of your upper arm, tugging you with her as you shuffled out of the room, casting one final look at the veiled witch in the Duke’s council room.

She stared back.

____________________________________________

“Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.”

The halls echoed as your aunt half tugged, half dragged you to her morning room.

You obeyed.

What else was there to be done? Fight back, scream at the injustice? You weren’t stupid, you knew nothing you did from this day forward mattered.

It was silly, truly.

“Aunt, where are you taking me?”

Jessica stopped in her tracks, casting you a pained look. Her hand took place at your shoulders, giving a comforting squeeze, smoothing out the ruffled fabric of your dress clothes.

“Listen to me carefully, the Reverend Mother has requested to personally test you. It’s of the utmost importance. Remember whose child you are. We see you as our own. Don’t keep her waiting.”

She pushed you forward, the doors to her personal morning room only a few steps away. How had the Reverend Mother gotten here before the two of you?

Don’t keep her waiting.

You opened the door and saw the old crone sitting at your aunt’s desk, the evening light illuminating the river flowing by your castle in shades of pastels through the high windows.

“Sit down.”

Body lurching forward, you found yourself sat in the chair directly in front of the old lady.

“How dare you use the voice on me?” You spit out, hating the Reverend Mother more with every appearance she made. Not only is she disrespecting your aunt by sitting in her chair, but insulting you in this way?

“Put your right hand in the box.”

She ordered, without using the voice this time. Looking down to see a box materialize in her hand out of seemingly nothing, you hesitate. It was tiny, how would your hand fit in it?

“What’s in the box?”

You asked cautiously, looking at the weather worn metal object, green corrosion crusting it. A shudder ran through you at the mere thought of touching such a dirty thing. What if you get an infection from it?

“Pain.”

You saw her hand no longer rested by her side, rather stilling itself next to your neck. A shiny needle glimmering in the dusk.

This test is very important…

Recalling your aunt’s words, you placed your hand into the box. A tingling sensation ran through it, like being pricked.

“At your neck I hold the Gom Jabbar, poisoned enough to give you a quick and silent death shall you move. It is simple, remove your hand from the box, and you die.”

At the sight of the needle you felt a feeling long forgotten stir in the depths of your gut. The blade awakened horrid memories of matted hair, the slit necks…

The prickling sensation shifted to that of numbness, before pain, hot and searing enveloped your entire hand. Any thought before was quickly replaced by that of utter terror.

Your hand was being ripped apart, skin torn and your muscles ripped apart savagely, as if something were gnawing on your bones.

It was agonizing. Soon the pain turned to that of fire, the blazing heat attacking what was left of you. The flames seemed to lick your entire hand, scorching it so deep, burning off the flesh from your bones.

As if the entire flame of the universe was biting at your hand, tearing apart the nerves, pulling at them, seeping into your blood like venom.

You wanted to scream. Tear your vocal chords to shreds with the agony coursing through your arm in rapid beats. Yet only choked, pathetic noises came out.

“You’ve heard of animals chewing off a leg to escape a trap? This is an animal kind of trick. A human would remain in the trap, endure the pain and feign death to kill the trapper.”

A wrangled scream finally managed to escape your lungs, the Reverend Mother giving you a look that made you shut up again and push through the fire that surely melted your bones away.

“Silence.”

The cursed jolts of pain seemed to devour your wrist, pulling on the exposed nerves, unraveling your muscle fibers.

Then just like that - it stopped.

“Remove your hand from the box, silly girl.”

You pulled it out as fast as possible, expecting your hand to be missing, a charred mess. Yet - shaking, it was whole, the skin glistening with sweat but otherwise unharmed.

“What is this witchcraft?” Your voice cracked as you asked, throat sore from the little screaming you could accomplish.

“Pain by nerve induction.”

A simple answer, she did not deign you worthy of more. It would have offended you, had you not been preoccupied with checking if your hand is functioning as it should.

Your aunt opened the door, exchanging a few quick, hushed words with the Reverend Mother then watching her leave.

As soon as your figure straightened her arms were there, tightly embracing you. One was stroking your hair as she obviously forced herself not to weep.

“I am so sorry my dear. I did not wish for this to happen, but my hands are tied.”

You hugged her back, tears pricking your eyes. It was nice knowing she did not do this to you willingly.

The sun had long set when she let go of you.

____________________________________________

The dual doors of your bedroom were locked and secure, as now the vulnerability of anyone walking in on you would not be pleasant.

Still shaken from the previous encounter, you calmed yourself by watching droplets of water race down your window as the wind howled outside.

Your wardrobe lay open, almost empty save for a few garments that lay scattered in it and on the floor below.

You were sitting on your bed when the weight of everything seemed to dawn before you.

Or rather, crashes upon your shoulders with such force you fell down between the pillows and layers of sheets, sobbing.

You were off to be married to a sadomasochist freak like cattle for breeding. Is that not what it is? You’re simply a puzzle piece in some grand plan of the Bene Gesserit.

Everything seemed to accumulate to this particular moment in your life. The test, the marriage, everything.

You wished for a minute with your parents before they died, to stop the madness they brought to you. For more time. With Paul, with your uncle, aunt, anyone.

You wished for a normal life.

____________________________________________

[slayingqueenchal]

Interview(ed) | timothee chalamet x y/n

A remake of my first ever fanfic Interview. | Timothee chalamet x Reader (y/n) I'm a bit better at writing, comparing to my past self, this is full of fluff fluff fluffy, and I'm using second person perspective instead of first person perspective,and timmy describes you in french and it's like confessing! But I'll stfu rn, enjoy! (There's an ending to this not like the first one)

"Yes, how are you, y/n, Timothee! I am john" The interviewer said to you and timothee.

"Good good! " Said timothee, and you nodded with him. "Amazing, now, I'm going to ask you questions for both dune part 1&2, is that alright?" John ask and both of you nodded.

"So, timothee, how did you get the role of Paul atreides? " John asks while flipping his card.

"It was like every other auditions, it's a tough one, I was really lucky that I got the role" He explained, his hands were moving as he was speaking.

"Great, what about you, y/n" John asks. "It was my cousin, who made me audition for the role of alia atreides, she was nine, she's a, a really smart person, to the degree that she understood dune" You told John.

"Why haven't you told me this?! This is literally the cutest thing ever, Y/n" Timothee groaned.

John flipped another card. "You can choose to not answer this one, just tell me, but the fans are curious about you twos dating rumours, is that true? " He asks.

"That's fine" Said timothee, you told John "we're very platonic.. Too, platonic, sometimes" With a fake chuckle.

You always had feelings since you first met timothee. It's like, love at first sight.

"Oo, that's cool! Up to the next question! " He flips his card, "Can each of you tell me, who was the most funniest, adorable, relatable, nicest co-star in the whole film, say it at the same time! ".

"Okay.. Timmy, one" You said.

"Two" Timothee said.

"Three! " You said. You pointed at him, saying "you!". But, he had done the same thing to, he said you were the most fun from the whole dune film.

"Aww" John said. You realized that, you were blushing hard.

"Up to the final, special question, many fans have asked this, timothee, can you describe y/n kn french? " John asks.

"elle est belle, ma personne préférée dans le film, peut-être ma personne préférée dans le monde entier" Timothee says with a lot of emotions.

(she's beautiful, my favorite person in the film, maybe my favorite person in the whole world)

"elle est vraiment attentionnée, avec beaucoup de monde et je ne pouvais pas m'empêcher d'être jalouse" Timothee says.

(she's really caring, with a lot of people and I couldn't help but to be jealous)

"Je pense que j'ai des sentiments pour elle, mon amour"

(I think I have feeling for her, love)

"et je sais qu'il y aura un gars ou une fille française qui traduira ça, mais priez Dieu qu'elle ne le sache pas. c'est une belle, géniale, gentille personne et honnêtement je ne la mérite pas du tout mais c'est trop tard maintenant, je suis déjà tombé amoureux d'elle" He says

(and I know there's going to be a French guy or girl who is going to translate this, but, pray to God that she wouldn't know. she's a beautiful, great, nice person and I honestly don't deserve her, at all but it's too late now, I've already fallen for her)

"And I believe that's it, I guess" He says.

"That was great! I personally don't understand but, maybe there will be someone who will explain, well I'm ending soon so, thankyou so much for answering all of the questions! Goodnight and bye! " John says enthusiastically. Not you though, you and timothee looks like a dead zombie answering questions since seven in the morning to ten pm.

"Well, that's all guys, pack your stuff and you can go, goodnight! " Says the producer.

"Alright" You both said.

"Timmy! Goodnight" You said, waving at him. "Night, y/n" Timothee responses.

You walked down to your car in silence with your body guards, and got home safely.

You went upstairs, get cleaned up, and went for a good night sleep.

Everything was alright until a thousand notifications blew up on your phone.

"What the hell" You groaned, taking your phone. Though your eyes were blurry, you can still see.

Everyone one was tagging you all across the media.

"Oh my gosh, I'm French, and if you haven't watched the dune interview with buzzfeed, you're missing out! " The girl says and plays the audio.

'elle est belle, ma personne préférée dans le film, peut-être ma personne préférée dans le monde entier' the blurry audio says

"Timothee is saying how y/n is the best person in the world and later he says that he couldn't help but be jealous of people around her who she's nice with,OH MY GOSH, he says he thinks he has feelings for her, and that he doesn't deserve her but he has already fallen in love. Oh my gosh y'all" Says the girl.

You sat there for a second, trying to process what's going on.

Timothee, liking you back? Sounds like a daydream.

You opened your messages app to found timothee's was filled by apologizes, confession, and him saying sorry for a hundred times.

You wrote 'timmy, you don't need to say sorry, in fact, I love you too'. No, that's corny you changed it up a bit "timmy, you don't need to say sorry, in fact, I have feelings for you too".

You sent it with your eyes closed. Turning off the phone.

"Y/n, I have.. It's like love at first sight and since you've told me this, would you like, go out with me, I know I'm a sucker for asking this in chat but pleasee" The notification rings.

Well, you replied and, guess someone's going on a date.

This was really rushed I'm sorry

[comicchannel]

Dune: Part Two Action Figure Paul Atreides and Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen - McFarlane Toys

Link para compra BR: https://amzn.to/3TglMQX

Buy here: https://amzn.to/42VhJ0A

[murdrdocs]

dacryphilia; implied squirting; paul calls r "desert mouse" bc i said so; MDNI 18+ w/ PAUL ATREIDES

you're wasting too much water.

deep beneath the focus on pleasure, somewhere woven between your strong desire to reach the end, is the nagging realization that you are wasting too much water.

yet, it is not your fault at all.

paul did not listen to you when you told him to take it slow.

the wind had picked up today, a sure sign of a storm approaching, and in result arrakis had been just a little cooler. not extremely significant, but noticeable.

it had been cool enough to take more exertion to break a sweat. cool enough that stilgar was not nagging about water conservation. and paul, in the mood to take advantage of the circumstances, turned to face you once your leader was distracted. he wore a boyish smile that was subtle enough to go unnoticed by anyone who did not know him as well as you did.

but you knew paul almost as well as you knew yourself. and unfortunately, you feel as if he knows you better.

he knows your body better.

you would not call him an expert, at least not to his face, but paul is extremely adequate and well versed in the topic of your pleasure points. he knew the pace he needed to set, where he should angle his hips, what words would spur you on and calm you down. he is dedicated, a hard worker who could not half do something even if his life depended on it.

like usual, his efforts yielded great results. a little too great, as your secretion is entirely paul's fault.

tears glide down your warm cheeks, spreading out towards your ears if they are too quick for either of you to catch. paul, certainly feeling bad about the state he has put you in, is attempting to do his part. he has one hand dutifully on your cheek, the still-soft pad of his thumb catching your tears and gently guiding them back into your mouth.

"don't waste them, desert mouse," he tells you, a stupidly charming smirk on his lips the entire time as if he is proud of himself.

you know he is, because it had not taken much to get you to this point at all. he kissed you, removed your stillsuit with his to follow, slid into you with humiliating ease, and then he began to fuck you.

there were times where you and paul made love within the secluded area of your shared tent, but that was not what he did to you. he took you like your body was his and only his to own.

your legs wound around his lithe hips, your eyes welling up with tears of pleasure as you watched his toned figure work through blurry vision. he kept you compliant with encouragement. delicately spoken words of praise. as soon as you opened your mouth to tell paul to slow down, worried about the low possibility of dehydrating your body, paul would speak before you could.

"doing so well for me. staying so quiet. just a little more. you're close, yeah?"

and you were. you've been so, so close this entire time, but held back on your own direction. for fear of letting go was threateningly paired with fear of excretion you could not afford.

your thigh pack lay off to the side, completely useless, and there is nothing more you wanted than to strap it onto you and finally get to let go with assurance that whatever it was that wanted to come out of you would be conserved.

but that assurance did not exist. and paul, like the thoughtless man he tended to become whenever he had you underneath him like this, clearly could not care less.

"come on," he tells you, his voice a low and deep rasp as he starts to rut into you with more determination. his eyebrows furrow, they dip a bit into a look similar to the one he wears when he fights. his hair, tousled from both the wind and the exertion, bounces in lazy curls with every single movement. they provide a tether, one that keeps you distracted enough to avoid cumming.

until paul takes his hand and grips your chin, pulling your gaze to him.

"look at me," it's a command and you find yourself easily following it. "i know you wanna let go. can feel you squeezing around me. need you to do it."

you start to shake your head, pleading with paul for him to understand just why you could not afford to let go like this.

but he shakes his head, too, tutting gently, softening his voice to one you cannot ever turn away from.

"it's okay," he promises. "just let it go. it'll be okay. i got you."

"it's a waste," comes your feeble response.

"don't worry about it. i want it. we'll make up for it." he leans down, pressing his lips to your warm forehead once before lowering his face enough to nudge the tip of your nose with his.

then, he tells you, "i'll even clean you up."

and it's really not your fault that you let go instantly.

[new-sandrafilter]

Zendaya later returned with her Dune: Part Two co-star Chalamet. His character “is trying to redeem the House of Atreides” in the Legendary sequel directed by Denis Villeneuve. “In Part One, he was a student. In Part Two, he’s thrown into the Fremen culture and the terrors of the desert,” Chalamet said. Zendaya added of the relationship between her Chani and Chalamet’s Paul, “It’s a beautiful love story; there’s a war going on while they are just trying to grow up.” She was also psyched about the action, “I got to do fight scenes.”

Joining the sequel are Florence Pugh, Christopher Walken, Austin Butler and Lea Seydoux. Praised Chalamet, “What a crazy new group. Everyone brought their flavor and came in fully on fire.”

As seen in the trailer, Paul goes through a “rite of passage” as he endeavors to ride a sandworm. “The sandworms were real,” Chalamet joked. The beasts even had their own unit, “There was a main unit, a second unit and a sandworm unit.” Villeneuve then appeared in a pre-taped message saying he was deep in post, and introduced a behind-the-scenes featurette.

Chalamet returned to the stage for an extended look at Paul King’s Wonka which producer Heyman also introduced. For Chalamet, “It was a dream come true. I grew up on the Gene Wilder movie. It’s really how Willy became Wonka.” For Heyman, “there is not an ounce of cynicism” in the film which hits theaters for the holidays in December. CineEurope was also treated to an exclusive scene featuring Hugh Grant’s Oompa-Loompa.

[toweroftickles]

DUNE: The Skin We Shed

(Paul x F! Reader Tickle Fic)

Requested by @scentedkittenperfection and far too late.

So, I’ve never done an xReader fic before. Or anything POV, for that matter. I’m a little concerned that it’s too over-the-top and comes across as silly. Sorry. Gave it my best shot.

Arrakis' sky is on fire. When the sun touches the horizon, everything is scorched a deep, haunting orange glow.

The great and heavy slab doorway of the Arrakeen palace groans as it slides open, scattering dust and sand to the floor below. Crystalline flecks of spice stab at the corners of your eyes, and the howling evening wind tears at your stillsuit until the antechamber door crashes down behind you, the rest of your guard troop...and Paul.

Paul Atreides. Son of the empire. You'd been casual friends with him for a while, since you started working in the house on Caladan, but he never noticed you as much as you noticed him.

Every time...every single time you travel together and head back to the guard dormitories, you end up staring at him, and it makes you want to smack yourself. Ugh....It's that stupid, dumb, hot (no! stop it!) thing he does where he pushes that wavy dark hair out of his eyes. Two weeks spent in his personal guard haven't made it better. If you don't stop, he's gonna notice you!

You're all packed together in the narrow stone halls among the sweat and the chatter and the leftover adrenaline cloud of a spice contact high. Takes forever for everyone to clear out of the common area and head to the suit containment lockers. Finally, you're all alone.

It's a circular room with a central sitting area, furnished with few brutalist chairs whose sharp right angles are barely helped by their fabric outer layers. The walls seemingly stretch to the interstellar roads high above, where the shadows swallow the ceiling and the glowglobes' skittish warmth can't reach them.

You unhook the moisture regulator from your nostrils and cough out the few drops of vapor left in the back of your throat. You hear the clicking of polished shoes behind you, and suddenly, there in the doorway is Paul, dressed for the evening and eating an apple.

"Oh, hey. I'm sorry, am I interrupting?" he asks. You're surprised, but remain stone-facedly blasé.

"Good evening, my lord. You're looking well. Spice harvesting is finally on track for the season."

"How many times do I have to ask you to call me Paul?" As he says it, you smirk back, knowingly.

For someone of regal stature, he's always been surprisingly personable. Aloof, certainly, but not rude or dismissive. If you lived on Earth in the 21st century and understood what exactly a "movie" was, you'd have thought he was like an old film star.

"Who knows; after a few more tries I might get a handle on it."

Oh, come on...not again. The damn stillsuit is always so hard to take off. And now he’s watching you…of course. The primary water reservoir, encased in a leathery pouch over the stomach, strains as you yank on the harness around your waist.

Paul chuckles. "Do you need some help?"

“No, it’s…it’s fine,” you blurt out. Is he making fun of you? Does he just think it's kind of funny? No, stop thinking so hard about it. You keep yanking harder and harder but it just seems like the suit is getting tighter.

Wait...he's beside you. What's he doing?

“Here. Create some space…between your skin and the suit. You have to form a pocket that you can move a part of you around in,” Paul mutters. His hand glides into a slit between your waist and your hip…and your heart stops.

The Atreides heir’s fingers are spindly and pale…those of a cloistered rich kid who’s never felt an axe or saw wear down his hands. Mere seconds before, the water rushing down the tubes inside your second skin, from your neck to your feet, had felt cool and refreshing. But now that sensation is being drowned out in the rushing of your own blood, pumping at full speed up into your throbbing ears, staining your cheeks a bright red. Your face is hotter than the desert air outside.

No…no no no, he’s touching you…oh my god he’s touching you…

It's not just embarrassment. Every millisecond of grazing along your abdomen is killing you.

Fingers gliding across your skin...

You're shivering and squeaking...

All you want to do is beg him, plead with him not to touch you there...anything but that...

"D'AAAAAHH Haha!"

A loud shriek rockets its way up through your throat and bursts out of you. Your whole body contracts like an accordion and leaps away, beyond your control, from the gorgeous young prince.

Time is frozen. So are you. You can feel your heartbeat in your eyeballs. But just as you're considering stealing a bagful of spice, hopping a flight out to Geidi Prime and changing your identity to a mustachioed lobster farmer named Stephanie, Paul runs his fingers through the hair on the back of his head and laughs awkwardly. His eyes are averting yours.

"Heh. I didn't know you were that ticklish," Paul breaks the tension. Without another thought he plops himself down on a nearby couch, his off-white shirt melting into its identical fabric.

How can he be so casual during all this?!

"It's, um...it...I've gotta...go. Excuse me, my lord..." The sentence sprays out of your mouth before you can stop it.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to upset you...here...let me make it up to you..." A wave of his hand. Beckoning you.

"No, that's...fine. Thank you."

"What, are you afraid I'm gonna tickle you again? Ha ha..." (That’s exactly what he’s gonna do, isn’t it?)

"Really my lord thank-you-for-your-assistance-butIcanhandlethismyself…” (Which staring eye makes you feel more queasy...Paul's, or the floating glowglobe nearby?)

"Hey come on, come back." // “I really need to - ” // “Please - ” // “It’s getting la- ”

Suddenly, Paul's voice rings out again...but it's different. The House heir speaks softly, yet the sound still thunders like the roar of a tiger.

"Come back."

Vvvvvmmmmmm.

Something is wrong. His voice reverberates in your temples long after the words have passed. Everything is dizzy and clouded. You feel a thumping tremor in your legs...they can't move. Why can't they move?!

Wait...there they go........back….toward him.

…What the…?!

It doesn't even feel like you're walking. It's more like strings are hooked into your thigh muscles and pulling you forward, puppeteering an uncomfortable shell that you're trapped inside.

Paul's eyebrow arches upward...he looks bemused...like he's surprised by your movement. He touches the corner of his mouth, uncertain. What did he do?! Was it on purpose?! Before you have time to think, you're already on the couch beside him, leaning back, as if in anticipation. Every tick of the clock, you can feel your chest heaving in and out as your breath gets heavier. Your lungs are full of water.

And then he reaches into your suit again.

Finding another pocket and pressing it outward, Paul yanks at your shoulders, and it’s punctuated with a low zipping noise. The ruffling leathery layers of the stillsuit scrape against your arms, dropping away like the skin of a snake. To your slight embarrassment, beneath the armor you’re clad only in a form-fitting tank top, tightly knitted for modesty only. Hanging down around your waist, the flayed-off suit torso forms a kind of morbid skirt. You feel like a half-peeled banana with blazing cheeks.

The twinkling eye of a desert rogue dissolves onto Paul's face. His mocking smirk teases you with coming calamity.

"N-no...no!" you squeal, grabbing defensively at a woven Bene Gesserit throw blanket nearby. But you know already it's too late.

Black silken netting smothers you. You're wrapped up in the sofa, pinned like a matador underneath a bull, with terrible fingers prodding and poking and squeezing every inch of your belly. No matter how much you struggle, or squirm, or scream with laughter, you can't escape...it's like each of your most deathly ticklish spots is bounding with eager joy right into this boy’s spidery hands.

Shit, he's smiling that stupid cocky smile at you - !

"HA-HA HA-Ha Haha! *heave* Ha-Ha Ha-Ha! St-st-ha...sta...pleahee...!!" you wail. The words are stuck inside your throat...they won't come out. Your stomach hurts too much from how hard you're laughing…

…and then it stops.

"Heh-Heh Heh...you really need to relax. You keep your guard up on the job, not when you’re with friends, right?" You can't see through your tightly-clenched eyelids, but he teasingly pats your shoulder and you can hear him stand to leave, abandoning you there with your limbs retreated and both hands covering your face.

You chat for a few more moments, but the words just fade into vacant humming. You might as well be deaf for all it matters. All you can do is squeak and nod in affirmation, until Paul wishes you a good evening and steps out of the soldier barracks. It all happens so fast...but maybe you’re just counting every second until he finally gets out.

Your colleagues gradually file back into the room, completely ignorant as to what's just happened. Whatever stupid subject these meatheaded guards are droning about, it doesn't register with you.

Why would Paul do that?! Does he just like messing with people? What if he knows how his presence twists up your insides? Oh, you knew this was going to happen; why can't you hide your glances from him?! Or, more terrifyingly...was he flirting? Exactly how much are you overthinking this?

Whew. Oh god…Relax...relax.

The thoughts rattle around in your skull long after you retreat into your room. Your pulse still hasn't slowed down. Even spice itself can't create this kind of nervous tingle in you.

....damn it, you're going to bed.