Paul Atreides Fanfic - Blog Posts

✮⋆˙𝐏𝐚𝐮𝐥'𝐬 𝐉𝐨𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐛𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐤

╰┈➤ 𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞, Paul Atreides and you were overjoyed to learn you were pregnant with a boy, the child he had long hoped for, but beneath his joy lay a quiet tension as his prescience hinted at an uncertain future. Over time, Paul’s resolve to remain detached crumbled, and he grew deeply attached to the unborn child, imagining the life he would have with his son. However, the fragile happiness was shattered when you suffered a devastating miscarriage, leaving Paul helpless in the face of his greatest fear—a tragedy he had foreseen but could not prevent.

⊹₊⟡⋆ 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟽𝟿𝟸୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

⊹₊⟡⋆ 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎: 𝚊𝚗𝚐𝚜𝚝 ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

⊹₊⟡⋆𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐: 𝚖𝚒𝚜𝚌𝚊𝚛𝚛𝚒𝚊𝚐𝚎୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

⊹₊⟡⋆𝙿𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝚝𝚠𝚘 𝚝𝚘 𝙿𝚊𝚞𝚕'𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 .ᐟ ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

· · ─ ·𖥸· ─ · ·

Then, it happened. You were pregnant with Paul Atreides’ baby—a boy, just like he had hoped for. The realization hit you as you sat on the toilet cover, staring at the pregnancy test in your trembling hand. After months of trying, you had finally missed your period. Anxiety surged through you as you scrambled to confirm the result, grabbing five different pregnancy tests from the cabinet. One by one, each test displayed the same answer: positive. A wave of emotions washed over you—joy, disbelief, and a deep, gnawing nervousness.

“You’re pregnant,” came Paul’s calm voice as he entered the bathroom. His tone was steady, his presence commanding yet strangely tender. Of course, he already knew. With his prescience, he had likely sensed the new life growing within you before you even suspected it. But something about his demeanor gave you pause, a subtle tension behind his warm smile, as if he were grappling with knowledge you didn’t yet possess.

Paul said nothing more as he knelt before you, his piercing blue eyes searching yours. He reached out, his hands steady and sure, as though anchoring himself in the moment. “I can’t believe it… a boy, just like I wanted,” he murmured, his voice soft yet filled with awe. A genuine smile broke across his face, his usual intensity momentarily softened by the overwhelming joy of impending fatherhood.

He rose gracefully, his movements fluid and purposeful, and extended a hand to you. You hesitated, still caught in the whirlwind of your thoughts, but his touch was firm and reassuring as he gently guided you to your feet. “Come,” he said, his voice a quiet command laced with tenderness. Hand in hand, he led you out of the bathroom, into a future that felt both exhilarating and terrifying—a future that had already begun to take shape in ways neither of you could fully understand.

The two of you were overjoyed when you found out about the baby. For weeks, it was as though a light had been reignited in your lives. Paul’s usually guarded demeanor softened around you, and even though he had sworn to himself that he wouldn’t allow his heart to fully attach to the child—knowing the risks of the future—he couldn’t help but fail. As the days turned into weeks, his resolve crumbled. He began to speak to your growing belly, his voice tender and filled with cautious hope, imagining the life of the son you both longed for. Despite his efforts to guard himself, Paul’s love for the unborn child became undeniable.

But the fragile joy was shattered all too soon. Paul was in the middle of a strategic meeting with his advisors when the sound of your blood-curdling scream pierced the air. The sound stopped him mid-sentence, freezing the entire room. His heart dropped like a stone as he turned toward the door, his prescience offering him fragments of what was to come—too scattered to act upon, yet clear enough to fill him with dread.

Without a word, Paul pushed past his advisors and strode down the hallway, his movements purposeful but laced with growing panic. As he approached your shared bedroom, the scene before him confirmed his worst fears. Doctors and nurses were rushing in and out, their faces taut with urgency. The air was thick with tension, the muffled sounds of hurried instructions and medical equipment creating a chaotic backdrop to the dread pooling in Paul’s chest.

He shoved his way through the crowd, his pulse pounding in his ears. The moment he stepped into the room, time seemed to slow. You were on the floor, your body curled in agony. Blood was pooling around you, staining the once-pristine rug a deep, sickening red. The sight stole the breath from his lungs.

Paul’s prescience had already told him what had happened—perhaps he had known even before it began. Still, the reality of it struck him with brutal force. You had lost the baby. His son. And there was nothing he could do to stop it.

“Move,” Paul barked at the nearest doctor, his voice sharp and commanding despite the despair threatening to consume him. He dropped to his knees beside you, his hands trembling as he reached out but stopped short, afraid to touch you and cause further harm. “I’m here,” he murmured, his voice breaking. “I’m here.”

Your tear-streaked face turned toward him, your eyes wide with pain and terror. “Paul…” you choked out, your voice barely audible.

“I know,” he said softly, his prescient vision flooding him with all the outcomes he could neither change nor escape. His hand found yours, gripping it tightly as the chaos continued to swirl around you both. Despite his immense power, in this moment, Paul Atreides felt utterly powerless.

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 😙

🌟 = Fluff, 🪐 = Angst, ✨ = mild spice, 🎬 = hurt/comfort

{𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝} → open ! || requests are usually open unless they get too much, then I will turn them off so that I could finish other requests ! ||

HARRY POTTER - MARAUDERS :

REGULUS BLACK

SIRIUS BLACK - (N/A)

REMUS LUPIN - (N/A)

JAMES POTTER - (N/A)

HARRY POTTER - (N/A)

DRACO MALFOY - (N/A)

DUNE :

PAUL ATREIDES

FEYD RAUTHA - (N/A)

LETO ATREIDES - (N/A)

CHANI KYNES - (N/A)

DUNCAN IDAHO - (N/A)

PRINCESS IRULAN - (N/A)

OTHERS :

TIMOTHÉE CHALAMET

WILLY WONKA

LEE (BONES AND ALL)

ELIO PERLMAN - (N/A)

KYLE SCHEIBLE - (N/A)

YULE (DON'T LOOK UP) - (N/A)

HENRY V (THE KING) - (N/A)

✮⋆˙ 𝙿𝚊𝚞𝚕'𝚜 𝚙𝚎𝚛𝚜𝚒𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚗𝚝 𝚍𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚖 .ᐟ

╰┈➤ 𝐈𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞, Paul Atreides gets baby fever and pesters his beloved wife into having one

⊹₊⟡⋆ 𝚆𝚘𝚛𝚍𝚜: 𝟽𝟾𝟷 ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

⊹₊⟡⋆ 𝚃𝚑𝚎𝚖𝚎: 𝙵𝚕𝚞𝚏𝚏 ୭ ˚. ᵎᵎ

The desert winds howled against the walls of their quarters, a steady rhythm that had become background music to Y/N's life. She was seated at their low table, sorting through a collection of reports from the sietch leaders. Across from her, Paul Atreides lounged on a cushion, his chin resting in his hand as he stared at her. She glanced up, feeling his gaze. “What?”

“You’d look good with a baby in your arms,” Paul said, his tone casual, as though he were commenting on the weather.

Y/N froze mid-scroll, lifting an incredulous brow. “Excuse me?”

“A baby,” Paul repeated, his blue-within-blue eyes alight with something far too mischievous for her liking. “Our baby.”

She let out a laugh, shaking her head. “Paul, we’re fighting off assassination attempts, managing alliances, and trying to ensure Arrakis doesn’t collapse into chaos. And you want to talk about babies?”

“Yes,” he said simply, sitting up straighter. “Think about it, Y/N. A child of ours—someone to carry on what we’re building. Someone who could bring joy to the sietch, and to us.”

“Joy?” she repeated, her tone dry. “More like sleepless nights and endless crying.”

Paul grinned, undeterred. “It’s not all like that. Imagine teaching them about the desert, watching them grow, seeing the world through their eyes.”

Y/N sighed, setting the reports aside. “You’re serious about this?”

“As serious as I’ve ever been,” Paul replied, leaning forward, his gaze locking with hers. “We’ve fought so hard, Y/N. We deserve to have something of our own, something that’s not tied to prophecy or politics.”

She studied him, trying to gauge if this was another one of his intense whims. But the way he spoke, the way his voice softened as he described their potential future—it was clear he’d been thinking about this for a while.

“Paul, our lives aren’t exactly stable,” she said gently. “Bringing a child into this... it’s a risk.”

“I know,” he admitted. “But everything we do is a risk. At least this one would be for us, not for the throne or the Fremen or anyone else.”

Y/N tilted her head, lips twitching into a small smile. “You’ve really thought about this, haven’t you?”

“Every day,” he confessed. “Especially when I see the children in the sietch. They remind me of what’s possible, even in the harshest conditions. We could give that to a child—love, guidance, and a future worth fighting for.”

She leaned back, crossing her arms. “You’re romanticizing it. Babies are hard work, Paul. And you’re not exactly known for having free time.”

“That’s why we’d do it together,” he countered, his voice filled with conviction. “I know it won’t be easy, but nothing in our lives is. That’s never stopped us before.”

Y/N was silent for a moment, letting his words sink in. She couldn’t deny the warmth spreading in her chest at the thought of a child—a little piece of her and Paul, growing and thriving amidst the chaos. But practicality had always been her guiding force.

“Let me think about it,” she said finally, her tone measured.

Paul’s face lit up, his grin wide and boyish. “That’s not a no.”

“No, it’s not,” she agreed, shaking her head at his enthusiasm.

Over the next few weeks, Paul didn’t let the subject drop. He found ways to weave it into their conversations, whether they were discussing strategy or simply sharing quiet moments together. He’d point out how Y/N’s nurturing nature would make her a wonderful mother or muse aloud about what their child might be like.

One evening, as they walked through the sietch, Paul stopped to watch a group of children playing in the sand. Y/N followed his gaze, her heart softening as she saw the way his expression shifted—hopeful, almost wistful.

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” she asked, nudging him gently.

“Not a chance,” he replied, his voice warm. “But only because I know you’d be an amazing mother, Y/N. And because I can’t imagine anyone else I’d want to raise a family with.”

She sighed, a small smile tugging at her lips. “You’re relentless, you know that?”

“I’ve been called worse,” he teased.

That night, as they lay together under the dim glow of the desert moonlight, Y/N finally spoke the words she knew Paul had been waiting to hear.

“Fine,” she murmured, her voice soft but steady. “Let’s do it. Let’s have a child.”

Paul’s arms tightened around her, his breath hitching in surprise. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” she said, turning to meet his gaze. “But you’re changing diapers.”

He laughed, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Deal.”

part two !!