i am so freaking excited for dune messiah!!!! so i finally bestow upon thee my Muad’dib cat!
design notes (most of the world-building can be found in my fogpaw post!)
- compared to my fogpaw (paul pt. 1 cat), the colors on mousestar are much warmer. this is mainly because my style has changed into gravitating towards warm tones in my designs, BUT!!!!! he’s gone from living in a water-based biome to a desert… he got a kitty equivalent of a tan Ok don’t ask questions
- his fur gets a lot longer and is generally more unkempt. not only does he just not worry about his looks much after being appointed as leader, but the harsh winds make keeping your fur well-groomed a hell of a task
- mousestar’s sensitive ears are now torn and droopy due to SpiceClan’s harsh conditions, when this “erosion” first began, he was often in a lot of pain
- his warrior name (which he didn’t have for too long lol) was mousebound! pretty on the nose but yeah it’s the closest i could get to Muad’dib. i previously had it as mouseleap but idk the “d” at the end of bound echos the ‘dib for me idk idk idk THIS IS MY AU I DO WHAT I WANT!! he is only called usul in the camp (the sietch), mainly by his mate Chani (still workshopping her warrior name!)
- his paw is still scarred by the bene-gesserit, i’ve decided the “box” they use is a literally fox trap just cuz uhhh it gives him aura! the scratch on his face is unspecified, his long fur covers most of his scars otherwise
- at this point Mintpurr (lady jessica) is the medicine cat of SpiceClan. she revived Mousebound with water from the Bluepool
- the sandworms in this AU are massive moles with hard-plated shells similar to an armadillo, unrelated to the post but i thought i’d throw it in kwkekek
Request: “Paul Atreides reacting to neck kisses!” Anon
A/N: You have a talent for getting the softspoken heir flustered in seconds
It was a wonder that Paul was capable of an outspoken word. He was just so still. So quiet. So observant. He spoke in short and hushed sentences. His voice rarely raised above a normal speaking level.
Paul was trained from a young age to be the next Duke. Naturally he became a quiet man as he kept his thoughts to himself. He must uphold the image they’ve created. And after so many years, it simply became a regular part of who he was.
Being such a polite, softspoken man, Paul was often tested by a great deal many things. One of which was he betrothed: the Lady (Y/N).
She took it upon herself to get more of a rise out of him. It was a personal mission of hers to see Paul flustered, perhaps uncomfortable, and close to the edge.
She longed to see him lose control sometimes. He had shared his thoughts, ideas, and opinions with her on many occasions. She knew he was passionate about a great deal many things – especially in researching projects like Arrakis.
It was considered a good day when she could get him squirming.
Today the mission led her to his bedroom. Paul was on his bed as he usually was in his free time.
“Hello, my dear,” she mused, standing beside him.
He only gave her a short glance, “Hello.”
She frowned, “Explain.” That was the code word they chose for when Paul concealed too many of his thoughts and needed an outlet. It created a safe space and allowed him to share without fear of the court finding out.
He breathed deeply through his nose. “Headache.”
“Sleep?” she questioned, matching his quiet, short responses. She watched him shake his head.
Without a word, she gathered her dress in her hands and crawled onto the bed. Paul knew what she was doing, moving until she was sitting behind him. He rested his head in her lap and stared at the ceiling.
(Y/N) put her fingers to work, brushing his hair aside, the color of charcoal. She scratched his head, massaging his pressure points. His eyes fluttered to a close.
“What might the cause of this headache be?”
“Duncan,” Paul muttered, his breath evening out with his hands across his stomach. “Too many punches.”
She noticed the growing purple of his jawline. “You work too hard.”
He hummed, opening his eyes, bright and green. He stared at her thoughtfully as she rubbed his temples. It was making her smile.
“Explain.”
“You’re beautiful,” he stated simply. “But also generous and kind. I don’t know how I became so fortunate to have you by my side.”
His voice was steady and quiet as per usual and it made (Y/N)’s skin prickle to hear him speak. It urged her to do something about it.
She leaned down, painfully slow, and kissed his forehead. His eyes closed again, his breathing still even. She licked her lips and hid a smirk, turning her head to the side and aiming for his neck.
She kissed the soft skin there.
His breath hitched.
She gave a breathy laugh, warming his skin. She kissed him again, then again, lining his neck with lingering lips. She held his head in her hands, tilting him to the side and finding the spot under his ear.
A sharp breath came through his mouth this time.
She brushed her nose against his ear, making a path down his jaw, nipping and sucking. His fingers tensed where they were laid on his stomach.
She pecked at his skin – it didn’t matter – he had a growing bruise there anyway.
She could feel his heartbeat through his neck. She saw him flex his feet at the end of the bed. He wasn’t being so quiet anymore.
