I just wanna say that I am SO excited for the part 2 to your Paul Destiny fic. I have so many questions and Im excited to see if they get answered. Like if Paul is pledging his love to the reader then is the romance plot with Chani still relevant? Is the reader still the princess here? Very interesting
Imagine if Paul Atreides claimed you as his destiny: PART Ⅱ of Ⅱ
|| Word Count: 1.7K || Fluff ||
A/N: Honestly, I didn't think this would blow up so much- 1k+ likes??! Thank you all, it's sick 🙃 in answer to your questions, I didn't really specify if the reader (you) are part of a Great House or the Emperor's daughter, or maybe someone else, that's kind of up to your imagination. And yeah, sorry Chani fans, I kind of kicked her to the curb lmao; This is all about you, and so enjoy the second and final part of this destiny trope before I work on some relationship headcanons for Paul and Feyd-Rautha...
Requests are open for Dune 2, so don't be shy 📩
You can't escape fate.
It's as real as the Spice that threads through the grains of sand blanketing Arrakis in heavy, warm golden waves. It twists and turns in the air, in the tides of change, something beyond understanding roping together reality and its lives to bond, whether in love or hate.
At least, with the newly ascended young Emperor, you know which side you're on. Since the day of his declaration and claiming of you as his Empress, you've never once left his sight, unknowingly or not. The boy is almost ridiculously close and observant, as if testing the depths of the events unfolding around him, testing to see whether you'll try to run from them, from him. But you can't run from fate, either.
"You aren't resting."
Paul's soft, low voice slices through the silence of the dusk, the only words you hear before you feel his warm, firm arms slipping under your arms and around your middle, pulling you into his front in a smooth, protective motion. His chocolate brown locks tickle your neck and cheek as he gazes up at you from your shoulder; wandering, curious eyes study yours knowingly, his natural hues tainted blue with the Spice.
"What troubles you?"
You hesitate in your response, unsure of the right thing to say. There's no point in lying, not to him, to a boy who could easily use the power of his Voice to make you tell him everything and anything with just a few words. He's done it to the Bene Gesserit, to those who speak out of turn and challenge him cluelessly, but never to you. And something tells you that he never will.
"I'm sorry," is how you answer instead, in a small whisper, trying to read his expression before his reaction.
But all Paul does is give you one of his soft, amused smirks, a brow raising slightly, unconvinced.
"Don't apologise to anyone for anything," he murmurs, his fingers drifting to lock with yours, his hand hot and strong in yours. "We are to be wed, you and I, soon. So what troubles you?"
"It's not you," you tell him as earnestly as you can, his eyes capturing yours and holding them as you blink up at him. "I'm just... nervous."
"Nervous?" Paul repeats gently, his hands squeezing yours for a moment, his face an inch away from yours. "What have you to be nervous about?" He grins slightly, not attempting to hide his teasing amusement. "A wedding?"
You can't help but smile at his tone, savouring the unguarded moments of the new, young Emperor, his boyish traits lingering beneath the newfound power and promises passed down to him.
You were nervous, because you weren't so familiar with destiny and its quirks, and yet, Paul Atreides seemed to be its master. Nervous, because although there was a strange pull between you and him, a deeper part of you somehow knowing him, at an instinctive ease with him, you had never met him before these past few days, and now, you were going to be joined together for time indefinite by marriage. Nervous, because he didn't just want you to rule with him, but alongside him, as a partner, a second part of him. His second half who's with him in soul, not just spirit, physically, not just mentally. And he's relishing in it.
"I've never had one before," you shake your head with a light smile, "I don't know what to expect. Or what's expected of me."
Paul hums to himself at your reply, pausing for a while as he thinks over his words.
"It isn't just a wedding," he tells you quietly, "it's so much more. This... this a beginning. A new dawn."
"Beginning?" You echo in bemusement, looking up at him in wonder. "Of what?"
"Of a new era," Paul says thoughtfully, his hands moving from yours to run over and down your sides, tracing over your figure absentmindedly, a gesture that makes you hold your breath for a beat as you watch him, "the first of many. You are more than a mere future. You're the future. My future. And the future of my people."
The sincerity and conviction in his voice makes you stare back at him in slight awe, taken by his certainty of what he's seen in the deepest stretches of his mind, the flickering images of you, adorned in all your natural beauty and grace that he could find nothing short of perfect. You were a fantasy and a hope materialised. Someone he'd wished and dreamed for so much, that you came true, just as you should have.
"Anything that happens to you," Paul continues, looking you straight in the eye as he speaks, "happens to me. You have always been mine, and I was yours before then. Absolutely and completely."
And his words make a home in your head, everything he says so poetic and beautifully surreal, but so honest and unwaveringly confident. He didn't need to practise what he said before he whispered the sweet words in your ear, in a voice only you could catch, in the long, warm nights on Arrakis. There was no need for practice. He had been made for this, and he wouldn't have it any other way.
You let yourself relax slightly in his grips, giving him an earnest smile. "That sounds nice."
Paul smiles back at you, a bright, sweet smile that makes him seem so soft and normal, almost forgetting for a moment of his utter strength and glory over the planets, his dangerous darkness that he occasionally allowed to rule over his actions at the tensest of times, until those who stood up against him retreated in bewilderment and fascination and fear.
"It does," he agrees, his gaze dropping to look out at the dunes beyond you, "you can't imagine..."
You couldn't. But every part of you wanted to. And those parts won.
"Won't you tell me?"
Paul's attention shifts back to you after you speak, before you can stop yourself.
"Would it be kind to tell you?" He asks aloud, speaking half to himself as his eyes go to search yours again, studying every inch of you, almost unsettlingly intently.
"Do you dream?" Paul questions you softly, and you dither before shaking your head.
"Not like you do," you answer steadily.
"Like I do. Seeing your face amidst the streaks of sunbeams and every kind of ethereal power that could create wonders, planets, worlds. Waking up, and you're not here, though it felt so real," he goes on, his voice laced with longing, as if it pained him to remember the feeling. "Realer than I've ever felt anything before. Every sense in me was awakened, because with destiny, I saw hope. And I did not know that hope could be so.... beautifully... angelic."
Paul draws closer and closer with each word, pulled by invisible strings to rest his forehead against yours, closing his eyes for a long moment to breathe, breathe you in. The sight of it is almost dizzyingly hypnotic, staring at the little scattered freckles over his fair, lightly tanned skin, cheeks flushed golden. He moves his face to rub his cheek against yours, seeking out affection in an irresistible rare, vulnerable move. Your hand reaches up to brush your fingers against it, and he takes it in his immediately, pressing his lips against your fingertips as he speaks.
"I need you," Paul insists, his voice firm and pressing again as he stares at you with a spark of desperation. "I need only you. More than you can comprehend. By my side, always, where you belong."
"I'm right here," you reply a little giddily, looking away from his eyes slightly bashfully from the intensity and unbridled longing of his gaze. "I suppose I'm just not used to this."
"To what?" Paul questions, his fingers tilting your chin up softly to force your eyes back up to his, his face a little closer than before. "To being an Empress?"
Before you can respond, he's pushed himself closer over you, his warm, damp lips sliding and pressing against yours and parting to encourage you to deepen his affections. It sends hot shockwaves rushing straight through your blood, as Paul crouches over you, all patience and purpose forgotten in the moment where it's just the two of you in the calm, lingering desert night.
You fit together perfectly, too perfectly for his words to be untrue, and his head tilts keenly where your fingers skim his neck, his lips parting from yours as they tangle in his hair with a short gasp. He loses none of his confidence and persistence, his azure blue eyes a shade darker as he watches you with an open trace of adoration.
"A queen?"
"Paul," you start shakily, as he smirks at you fondly, his head ducking to trace his tongue briefly up the skin of your neck, with a faint chuckle.
"To being desired?"
You glare at him weakly, hanging onto his hands tight to find some sense of grounding. "You're just playing with me."
"I intend to do so much more than that," Paul grins at you, kissing your cheek before burying his face against your shoulder. "And so should you. Test the depths of our connection. Push it to its limits. Push me. Please."
You find yourself speechless again at his way with words, simple and truthful, but full of passion and unthought romance, a sensation he's been craving since the first shadows of your being in his hazy dreams and visions.
"Give into your destiny, sweet girl," he croons to you in a whisper, his lips brushing against yours and pressing down against your skin needily, hungrily. It takes almost inhumane strength not to crumble and shiver under his touch and desire radiating off him and his dark glare, the wanting over years of dreams and prophecies building up to its peak. "Give into me."
"I think I will," you whisper back in awe and giddiness, your arms having to hold tightly around his neck to stay upright. "I think I want to."
"That's good," he praises you with a soft smile, as his voice lowers. "And besides," Paul mutters in your ear, nuzzling against your cheek breathlessly, with that subtle, teasing look in his eyes, "I plan on taking you as mine well before the wedding."
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Taglist (lmk if you want to be added to this for my future Dune fanfics): @minaxcarter @milaeth @ennycutie @weird0o0 @aoi-targaryen @jindongdongie
Thoughts on Timothee. (nothing hateful, just observations from a fan) :)
I wanna start a discussion about Timothée, the way he is presenting himself in this Marty Supreme era, and the way fans (old and new) are perceiving him.
As a long-time fan, Timothée has always had a charming, silly side to him. This can be seen through Lil Timmy Tim and his high school years. When he was relatively new to fame and getting attention for CMBYN and Little Women, I think he had a quirky/anxious quality to him simply because he was figuring out his footing in Hollywood and newly navigating interviews, press tours, and attention. He was also young, in his early twenties.
Timothée is nearly thirty now, he has been in countless projects, and has evidently made a name for himself. This is all deserved. If you follow along with Timothée, you know how dedicated he is to his craft. He spent years preparing as Bob Dylan in A Complete Unknown, and he has spent even more of that time preparing for Marty Supreme. The main reason I bring this up is for two reasons: the way people expect him to be, i.e., "I miss the old Timmy," and the way people are reacting to a recent interview he's done.
First, you cannot expect a grown man to act the same way he did when he was 21 or 25. People grow, they evolve. Timothée is obviously much more comfortable in the industry, so there's no reason why he'd be the overly anxious guy we saw in some of his late 2010s/early 2020s interviews. Plus, it's not like he switched up on us. If you keep up with his Marty Supreme antics, you'd know that he is still incorporating his humor and personality into what he does. I don't know him personality, but I can positively assume that he is still the same sweet guy that he's always been. Most of the "I miss the old Timmy" discourse I've seen is mainly coming from the fangirls (which I can admit I am), but I think it's a very parasocial and weird mindset to have about someone you claim to love and support. Why wouldn't you want your favorite actor to evolve? Do I miss the early 2020 era of Timothée and his career? Sure, but that doesn't mean I don't support him now. (Does this make sense? I think you can miss what once was while appreciating what currently is. Some of these fangirls are acting like he died! It's crazy.)
Next, Timothée conducted a recent interview for Marty Supreme, where he discussed his thoughts on his work, which he considers great. (I apologize for my bad paraphrasing; I literally cannot find the full interview anywhere, only the out-of-context clip.) However, the main message he was trying to convey is that he "doesn't want to take for granted" his work and that it's "top-level shit." Whether he was being sarcastic (which he tends to be) or serious, I honestly don't understand why people are criticizing him for taking pride in his work. "Top-level shit" was his dry sense of humor, but I do believe him when he says that he doesn't want to take for granted his work. Dare I say, Timothée deserves to be proud of the work he's doing. Especially when he dedicates years of his life to a single project, I think he deserves to take pride in it. For years, I have watched amazing performance after amazing performance from Timothée, and he has not been given his roses. So, I don't hate him for being proud, and I do think that he deserves to be recognized as a great performer. Some people may find this arrogant, but Timothee deserves to feel confident about his work.
Overall, I hate that the film bros found Timothee...LOLZ, imagine if I wrote a whole essay discussing Timothée Chalamet, only for the true theme to be "film bros suck." They do, but I digress. No, what I mean is, I feel :/ that the film bros who don't even care about Timothee's craft keep tearing him apart. It happened when he said he wants to be one of the greats, and as long as Timothee continues evolving, people are gonna continue to pick him apart. True moral of my essay: y'all don't get Lil Timmy Tim like I do, so back off him, cuz I will defend this man with my life!!!!
Does anybody actually care about this? I dunno. I am interested in hearing what others think or have to say about this. I've loved Timothée for so many years now, and it's interesting to see how the online discourse about him has shifted. 🫶🫶🫶
the prescribed use of lies, well spring of jokes | depsidase
i'm here for it, every ridonkulous statement on this very topic
remember when they used to play this soundbyte whenever we suspected s/o was lying to us; Clinton ended televised remarks 1998-01-26, with the infamous statement: "I did not have sexual relations with that woman, Ms. Lewinsky." I think Vance is suffering from the rebound effect of Chalamet, doesn't matter what he says his body posture tells it all—then Rubio is the "warlord of Cuba/Venezula/Iran" has MIC's approval amirite?
War with Iran Has Just Crossed a Dangerous Line | VisualPolitik EN
I think if we go by the Book of Revelations, then all of the above will occur bc ppl who are desperate will stop at nothing to "win," including mutual assured destruction.
Some moments just shift the culture 💫 Tonight was one of them. Bigfoot. Zendaya. Timothée. Three forces of fashion, one flashbulb in time 📸🔥 history doesn’t repeat—it poses. 🦶✨ #BigFootBigFit #Zendaya #TimotheeChalamet #IconEnergy #Chalamet #Sasquatch #Bigfoot #SquatchWatch
Kylie Jenner is too beautiful and rich to be with a man that looks like a literal RAT. 🤣 and is getting to big for his own boots! Kylie is waiting for Timothee Chalamet to marry her. But that white boy will never marry a woman with 2 black children . We live in a racist society and Timothee Chalamet is apart of the white dominant society. Hes in the rich white mans club and using kylie jenner like the snivelling rat he is to boost his fame and to enjoy her wealth.
If Kylie wanted to be an old money babe and be apart of the dominant white society, she made a mistake by trying to cosplay black, Latina woman and having 2 kids with a black man who looks and acts like a hood rat thug leaving her a baby mama with half black children. Which definitely stained her reputation . Unfortunately. Wish we didn’t live in this kind of racist society but we do.
But really think about it every woman in that Kardashian family that has had children with a black man has been left a baby mama ! 💀💀 y’all . I can’t.
