#feyras

𝐈𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐉𝐔𝐒𝐓 𝐋𝐈𝐊𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐔𝐋 𝐓𝐎 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐁 𝐇𝐄𝐑 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐄. or so the princess thought, felt, more times than not. both of them seem to grow tired of their clashing heads, their stubborn wills, but no matter what happens irulan feels that argument cannot be avoided so easily. that is unless one or the other, in their exhaust for hurled back handed comments & subtle insults, concede for the sake of ending the conversation. never did she imagine her life would amount to this--yes, she'd been given an assignment of sorts from the reverend mother but that doesn't dimish the effects day to day has on her strong, but taxed, mental state. the game between them grows old, but a game played nonetheless to irulan's immense displeasure.

@feyras said, " I HOPE YOU'RE NOT LEAVING ON MY ACCOUNT. "

He had dreamed of her. the sweet nothing of the phrase held a weight she couldn't comprehend. She had only seen what they had shared in the orgy of the consumption of the waters of life.

It was peace between storms. it was love in the simplest terms. She reached for his hand, letting it guide her to sit near him.

She knew nothing of him before he came. Her first meeting with him was that of holding a maula pistol to his back. The tribe came before the individual. If the tribe persisted then so did each and every person.

He saw things no one could. the future, the past, and the now. He was more than just a man, yet it was not Muad'Dib that she loved.

I LOST THE MEME

@feyras ASKED: Ever since I met you, no one else has been worth thinking about .(PAUL)

the rapid beat of her heart was excruciatingly loud in her ears and she felt achingly cold. the air wasn’t chilled, the house always kept the rooms warm during this time of year. it was her insides that were freezing, teetering on the edge of frostbite. upon azriel waking her there was a light coating of frost on her tongue, her eyelashes dusted with hoarfrost. it didn’t take nesta very long to conclude what had happened; she had a nightmare that manifested the extremities of her powers and azriel was the one to wake her. her nightmares were sporadic and the cause of them could be any number of things.

this time she believes it’s because her, gwyn, and emerie are looking deeper into her powers together. the three spend endless hours in the library searching for any book that has information that could help them as well as experimenting with nesta’s magic in the library’s pit. so far there had been no books and nesta was sure one would never appear. as for her magic, she never delved too deep or pulled up a lot at once for fear of hurting her friends or the library. they needed to go somewhere else for that and nesta debated finding a place by herself so her friends weren't at risk.

I LOST THE MEME

@feyras ASKED: please don’t regret me. (PAUL)

"Do they not have games on your homeworld, Usul?" she asked, holding the sandtrout in her hands carefully. The idea of donning them as gloves did not seem strange to her. Sandtrout were only a larval state of the maker.

They were not yet comparable to Shai Hulud. They were not yet God.

There was a certain kind of weight in his words, almost comparable to their shared vision during the communal partaking of the changing of the Water of Life.

She did not wish to live in the future, or that great destiny that would weigh on him. She only wished for now.

@feyras

𝐈𝐓'𝐒  𝐍𝐎𝐓  𝐎𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐍  𝐇𝐄  𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐒    other's  close  enough  to  touch  him  and  most  of  the  time  getting  close  enough  to  touch  him  was  only  met  with  either  a  spur  or  bullet  to  the  face  shortly  after .  robin  ,  however  ,  had  shown  interest  here  and  there  in  how  the  hunk  of  metal  that  he  called  a  body  worked  and  he  was  happy  to  oblige  in  her  curiosities .  he  couldn't  hold  it  against  her  ,  it  wasn't  often  that  someone  was  both  seemingly  synthetic  and  organic  at  the  same  time  ,  even  for  all  the  eccentricities  penacony  held  ,  he  stuck  out  like  a  sore  thumb .  the  jacket  that  often  concealed  the  top  half  of  his  body  lay  thrown  over  the  back  of  a  chair  ,  his  head  bare  of  his  hat  ,  the  piece  set  off  to  the  side  near  where  his  jacket  had  been  discarded .

❝  no  ,  no  ,  you're  right .  ❞  boothill  hummed  ,  giving  a  small  knock  to  the  upper  part  of  his  chest  lightly  ,  the  small  clink  of  metal  on  metal  echoing  in  the  space  between  then .  ❝  the  type  of  metal  they  used  to  remake  my  body  doesn't  hold  heat  for  long  ,  better  not  to  overheat  in  the  middle  of  a  job  ,  y'know ?  ❞  he  cannot  help  the  lingering  amusement  in  his  tone  as  he  brushed  away  any  assumed  insult .  if  there  was  anything  he  was  acutely  aware  of  it  was  how  chilled  the  metal  of  his  body  could  be  ━  especially  in  comparision  to  her  own  warmth .  at  robin's  question  his  head  cocked  to  the  side  ,  almost  in  thought  though  his  gaze  remained  trained  on  her .

she  was  ethereal  ,  even  in  the  dim  lighting  of  the  room  they'd  taken  shelter  in  for  the  night  ,  though  boothill  hardly  thought  that  she'd  ever  be  a  sight  he'd  soon  forget  ,  no  matter  the  setting .  lips  part  to  answer  her  question  only  to  be  captured  by  his  songbird's  own  ━  a  suprising  show  of  boldness  on  her  part  but  not  an  unwelcome  one  by  any  means .  his  hand  that  doubled  as  another  firearm  came  to  rest  gently  at  her  waist  ,  the  other  snaking  it's  way  find  it's  anchor  at  the  back  of  her  neck  ,  though  any  hold  to  keep  her  close  was  loose  at  best .