#mehlange

[feyras]

created back in 2021 - 2022 when i wrote paul , but i wanted to drop them here again ♡

[gunbash-archived]

from  @mehlange​:  “I have a bad feeling about this.”

❝  YOU  SAY  THAT  EVERY  TIME  .  every  single  time  we’re  doing  something  that  could  be  somewhat  illegal  .  do  you  realize  you  do  that  ?  and  even  the  LEGAL  things  ,  you’re  always  — —  i  have  a  bad  feeling  about  this  .  for  the  first  time  in  your  life  . . .  TRUST  ME  ,  all  right  ?  just  trust  me  .  ❞  sebastian’s  muted  voice  ,  hinted  with  amusement  ,  comes  softly  through  the  shadow  of  darkness  as  he  tucks  alongside  paul’s  shorter  frame  .  he’s  not  mad  ;  he’s  comfortable  here  ,  skirting  around  guards  at  their  posts  ,  avoiding  the  eyes  of  half-asleep  lookouts  .  this  is  what  he  does  .  this  is  how  sebastian  survives  — —  and  now  ,  by  extension  ,  THIS  IS  HOW  PAUL  SURVIVES  ,  TOO  .  ❝  all  we  need  to  do  is  sneak  through  that  door  ,  grab  that  box  ,  and  leave  .  no  fighting  necessary  ,  ❞  he  adds  ,  glancing  at  his  companion  .  ❝  i  won’t  even  nock  a  single  arrow  .  PROMISE  .  ❞  the  guards  that  linger  closest  to  their  hiding  place  start  to  wander  off  ,  set  on  their  limited  patrol  routes  ,  and  sebastian  gives  paul’s  arm  a  tap  .  this  small  fortification  outside  the  castle  is  built  as  an  armory  ,  tucked  away  from  the  main  road  and  dangerous  to  approach  in  an  attack  — —  but  they’re  not  attacking  ;  they’re  stealing  .  ❝  time  to  move  ,  ❞  he  tells  paul  in  a  whisper  .  he  shoots  his  companion  a  wry  smile  ,  full  and  handsome  ,  before  crouching  and  hastening  his  way  in  the  cover  of  darkness  .  with  the  guards  talking  amongst  themselves  ,  they  don’t  notice  the  two  figures  ducking  inside  the  building  and  into  RELATIVE  SAFETY  .

[tachlit-archive]

@mehlange​ ​ asked  ;   ‘ we are built to live inside each other . this means we are built to ruin . ’ ( for paul . maybe like .. some sort of future prescience / version of himself reaching out ? )

                                                                                                         unplotted ask ; accepting.

 IT   IS   THE   FUTURE   HE   SEES,   THAT   TERRIFYING   VISION,   SOMETHING   BEYOND   THE   JIHAD.   he   can   still   taste   the   poison   turned   into   the   water   of   life   on   his   tongue,   but   even   now   does   it   remain   a   bitter   taste   only   worsened   with   what   he   sees.   how   is   it   possible   that   so   many   dead   ends   exist   ＆   amongst   them   only   one   path   remains   that   will   lead   humanity   to   salvation?   ＆   at   the   cost   of   his   own   can   it   only   be   achieved.   that   terrible   purpose   turned   into   terrible   burden,   a   curse   only   he   may   shoulder   at   the   expense   of   everyone.  is   it   him   that   stands   before   like   a   ghost?   does   he   haunt   himself   now?   the   thought   of   fleeing   crosses   his   mind,   a   notion   foreign,   ＆   yet   the   terror   that   crawls   up   his   spine   is   too   much   that   even   his   bene   gesserit   training   could   do   nothing   to   stop   it.   what   little   use   it   would   be   though,   for   where   could   he   flee   to   when   it   is   from   himself   he   runs?   he   looks   older,   exhausted;   what   occurs   that   makes   him   so   cruel?   paul   can   only   swallow   his   words   from   the   future.   an   omen   ;   of   what   is   to   come,   of   what   he   shall   do.   does   he   tell    himself   to   follow   that   path?   or   to   forsake   it?   ❝you’re   wrong.❞   attempt   to   sound   strong   comes   out   as   almost   a   mere   whisper,   ❝there   is   another   way.   there   has   to   be.❞  fear   replaces   with   rage;   it   is   his   mother   that   placed   him   in   this   position,   forced   this   fate   upon   his   shoulders,   her   ＆   her   sisterhood.   how   can   he   lose   so   much   when   he   has   only   just   gained   it?   his   thoughts   turn   to   chani,   relishes   in   the   image   of   her   captured   in   his   mind;   of   morning   sun   through   her   dark   curls,   of   her   in   silver   fabrics   flowing   through   the desert   breeze,   her   smile,   her   laughter,   her   hands.   he   wanted   to   show   her   caladan,   he   thought   wildly,   caladan   ＆   it’s   ocean,   caladan   ＆   the   growing   greenery,   caladan   ＆   the   softness   compared   to   this   wild   desert.   liet-kynes’   plans   echoes   in   his   head   then,   of   turning   this   wasteland   into   just   that   --   a   place   of   growth   instead   of   constant   suffering.  no.   he   will   not   go   willingly   upon   this   golden   path   that   has   been   set   for   him.   ❝. . . ＆   even   if   there   is   not,   then   i   will   make   one.❞   now   his   voice   carries   a   bite   to   it,   a   snarl,   his   mind   set.    ❝i   will   trample   down   the   grass   until   it   is   barren   beneath   my   feet   --   humanity   will   follow   that   i   create.   if   we   are   built   in   ruin,   then   i   won’t   stray   my   hands   from   such   creation;   but   it   will   be   through   my   own   choosing.❞   ＆   he   hears   it   now;   the   voice   of   millions   crying   out   --   only   to   be   silenced.

[roseguidedarc]

@mehlange ASKED,  ❛  𝟐𝟖 .   𝒂  𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔  𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓  𝒂  𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒓 . ( 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒊 ! 𝒐𝒏 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒄𝒉𝒆𝒆𝒌 ;-; )

         𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐍𝐄𝐖𝐒 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐓.   𝐀𝐍 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐊 𝐎𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐈𝐄𝐓𝐂𝐇 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐋𝐄 𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 𝐖𝐄𝐑𝐄 𝐀𝐖𝐀𝐘─chani had been one of the only ones able to defeat them or try && drive them away while those who couldn’t fight such as the elderly, wounded, && children hid as far away from the commotion as they could !   chani had taken charge as the story is being told to the likes of stilgar, the rest of the tribe, && paul who had been away while doing her best with who she had.   she herself had taken out 𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧    a handful of them,  but some weren’t so lucky to be just   𝙸𝙽𝙹𝚄𝚁𝙴𝙳   from the fight !     (   she’d been wounded severely during scrimmage, cut deeply on the side by a blade that had not only caused her severe blood loss, but also damage to her stillsuit.   once the fight was done, the threat either killed or driven out, she was tended to with the remaining standing.   she’d taken a fever, one of the healers will say,  but with prayer && blessing from shai-hulud she’d survived her fever in the days following.   )     ;     resting now, body awakens with the sense of someone at her side.  covers are pushed away from arms,  eyes opening to look upward && seeing the missed, welcome visage of who she held  𝖒𝖔𝖘𝖙 𝖉𝖊𝖆𝖗.    body pushes itself up right, ribcage && breasts wrapped in bandage.    ❝  usul, ❞   name spoken softly,  voice strained from exhaustion && near death experience.   though his name is spoken,  paul doesn’t seem to say anything back but lean forward until arms are wrapped ‘round her in a tight embrace,  chani winces a little,  but doesn’t pull away.   arm wraps around him, free hand cradling the back of paul’s head with fingers gently woven into strands of hair.   ❝  no need to fear, beloved.  you have not lost me && nor will you, i’m   𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓵𝓵   here.  ❞   bodies part,  chani feeling hands cup either of her cheeks && warm, tender lips press a kiss to the scar along her cheek.   smile spreads against lips,   ❝  what’ve you heard of the ordeal?   i hope the news of what happened didn’t trouble you much. ❞

[nightsprince]

instead of nyx what if we renamed u nicks

my name is nicks

it's short for

NICKELBACK ARCHERON

[roseguidedarc]

@mehlange​ ASKED,  ❛  𝒚𝒐𝒖’𝒓𝒆 𝒋𝒆𝒂𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒔, 𝒂𝒓𝒆𝒏’𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 ?  ❜ ( 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒊𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒏 )

        𝐒𝐇𝐄’𝐃 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐀𝐓 𝐎𝐍 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐂𝐇 𝐈𝐍 𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐘,  𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐖𝐈𝐓𝐇 𝐀𝐑𝐌 𝐒𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐘𝐄𝐃  out over the back.   eyes had studied paul up until the question is asked─his tone clearly implying it, speaking as if it were true.   question makes irulan smile wickedly,  head momentarily thrown back as a rather amused laugh echos out of her chest.  once returning center from her laugh,  eyes rest on him with green hues narrowed slightly like they usually are when regarding the other.   she holds no genuine smile, other than the wicked one holding on pink tinted lips,   not look of anything other than bitterness, resentment, maybe even some intrigue toward the other for what he   𝓽𝓱𝓸𝓾𝓰𝓱𝓽  he’d accomplish in the comment.    did paul think he’d rile her up?  get a reaction out of her?   not today, sorry to disappoint.     ❝  bold of you to assume i care anything about the birth of your children. ❞    the words spew past her lips with an edge of venom to them,  but amusement still leaks through.  a deep breath is taken into her chest before she can continue,   ❝  i could care less about your screaming, whining newborns.  they’re just something else to make noise, to take up time, to eventually run around causing trouble.  ❞      ;      (   words leave before she can think about it.   irulan hears herself, hears how . . .harsh the words sounds directly toward him.   for a moment she remembers hearing of poor baby leto being murdered before paul took her fathers throne.   maybe she should’ve taken to hitting less of a 𝚂𝙴𝙽𝚂𝙸𝚃𝙸𝚅𝙴   nerve.   )     standing, princess smooths out the fabric of her dress with hands clasped in front of her.   feet take a few steps closer to him,  head lowered as she does && raising when standing before him:     ❝  on a less argumentative   note . . . i do not wish your children ill as much as i might not ever be   𝖋𝖔𝖓𝖉  of them.   i hope they survive unlike your first boy.  ❞   tone is softer,  irulan trying to apologize.     ❝  i had to witness what happens to a mother, a father, at the loss of their child from my own mother before my sisters.  is isn’t pleasant. ❞

[roseguidedarc]

@nyktous ASKED, 💗  ( 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒄𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒊 𝒇𝒓𝒐𝒎 𝒑𝒂𝒖𝒍 . 𝒘𝒓𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒃𝒍𝒐𝒈 𝒃𝒖𝒕 ... 𝒔𝒉𝒉 )

           𝐌𝐎𝐒𝐓 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐖𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒.   𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐈 𝐔𝐒𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐔𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐃 𝐎𝐑 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐃 𝐂𝐋𝐎𝐒𝐄,  𝐀𝐑𝐌 𝐃𝐑𝐀𝐏𝐄𝐃   ‘round his middle, or hand rested on chest, with her face pressed close to the inside his neck with cheek pressed against shoulder.   comfortable, close, loving even in her sleep.   it wasn’t always like this for sometimes paul has to rise early, sometimes it’s his arms around her, or them simply sleeping beside one another comfortable in the knowledge that the other is   𝚁𝙸𝙶𝙷𝚃 𝚃𝙷𝙴𝚁𝙴.     (   over twelve years together, such a number chani hadn’t thought of upon first meeting her beloved,  && over time  they’ve gotten comfortable with not always needed to be touching like in the beginning.  it’s preferred, they both know, but not necessity.   )      mind was more than at ease in this early morning moment of opening her eyes against the raising sun of arrakis⸺she blinks slowly at first,  squinting despite the curtains, before hand absently comes to rub against her eye.     ;      hand rested against his chest can feel the steady, slowed pulse of heart underneath skin . . paul still sleeps && how she’d hate to wake him so early && from such rest.    she   𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓻𝓲𝓮𝓼   for him, her usul, at times with just how much is taken on.   being empeor isn’t an easy occupation,  but that was known from the beginning⸺time breeds a sense of routine,  but the work of a ruler is never done despite that sense of familiarity.  it results in off world trips, in long hours at a desk, in endless meetings, && sometimes even empty bed.     quiet breath is taken into chest,  chani reluctantly pulling self from his side to sit upward with palm pressed into bed.   free hand shifts hair away from features just as she heard the slightest change in his breathing. . . head turns to find paul awake.     ❝  did i wake you, my love?  i’m sorry. ❞    leaning back down,  hands now resting on either side of him && body hovering above, chani presses a lingering, soft   𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌  kiss to his lips.   after a moment, she pulls away with smile on lips,    ❝  i’m going to tell our babies good morning, visit for a minute.  you rest while you can.  i’ll be back soon. ❞   

[roseguidedarc]

@mehlange​ ASKED,   "𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐 𝒆𝒔𝒄𝒂𝒑𝒆—𝒘𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒚 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒄𝒆 𝒐𝒇 𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒔." ( 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒊𝒓𝒖𝒍𝒂𝒏 )

        𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐖 𝐅𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐎𝐖 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄, 𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐖𝐍 𝐃𝐄𝐄𝐏𝐄𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄.   eyes cast down toward the floor as she thinks over his words,  hands coming to clasp together at her front as piercing eyes rise && focus on paul from where she stands.   it was an odd thing to consider, but given everything it wasn’t that hard to conceptualize.   violence is a cycle,  a cycle that much of humanity or any other living form hasn’t ever not experienced.   violence, blood, war seemed a constant factor is many people’s history no matter the place, the time, or the reason !    (  take the harkonnen’s for example.  how many lives did they take? how much blood did they spill?  murder stains their soul like the blood on a blade⸻the same can be said for anyone else.  )   as unfortunate as it is,  it almost feels inescapable.   living in complete, utter peace isn’t a   𝙲𝙾𝙼𝙼𝙾𝙽   reality for them nor will it ever be, irulan considers.     ;     ❝  if that were true then wouldn’t all of us be   𝓬𝓻𝓾𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓭   under the weight of all that violence?  ❞   she asked aloud, tone even with an edge of curiosity for his answer.    ❝  for most of us, the violence && bloodshed our ancestors caused is enough to damn us.  we’d never be able to clean it up, to make up for it.  it’d be inescapable. ❞   a deep breath taken into her chest, thumb rubbing against palm of her other hand:    ❝  if we thought like that nothing would ever get done, because we’d all be dead before we got the chance. ❞