#i was.... enamoured with yusuf

[thomasblanky-moved]

looking at my ffn account and the earliest surviving fic i posted anywhere was a god damn. assassin’s creed: revelations fic posted in 2012.

[non-un-topo]

@yusufsmoon​ Thank you so so much!! <33 I actually had a comic in my drafts that goes perfectly with this but I drew a new one anyway!

And here’s the original comic under the cut

[iphisesque]

Yusuf was a scholar. He was probably reading books like The Alchemy of Happiness by Al-Ghazali and writing poems about the beauty of life. The Maghreb wasn't even involved in the First Crusade. If he was fighting at the Siege of Jerusalem or the Battle of Ascalon he was there because he believed it was the right thing to do. Bet you 500 that the first word he taught Nicolò after they stopped trying to kill each other was inshallah and he truly did accept immortality as God's will.

I couldn't have said it better anon 😭😭😭

I'm not an expert in the crusades but they're called Holy Wars for a reason, of course there were very complex geopolitical factors at play as well but for what reason other than God's call would a merchant's son from Maghreb take up arms against the Christian infidels in Jerusalem? He was very much devoted to Allah (and still is imo), and I feel like he would definitely see his immortality as a gift from Him, or at the very least as His unchangeable will -- though he too does, of course, struggle with accepting the idea of seemingly living forever at the beginning. the Medieval Islamic philosophy is something honestly fascinating and I would love to see it reflected more in fanfics, especially since he's a scholar at his core, like you said: he's probably very familiar with it and it's a big influence on his relationship with life and with God, I would love to one day write something about this when I learn more about Islam!

and yeah, my man is a poet to his core, I know I talk a lot about ibn Hamdis but I really just think his style of writing would really reflect Yusuf's -- very flowery and lyrical, very grateful for the big and small joys of life with a hint of bittersweet melancholy. He is definitely the type to wax poetical about the orange he had at dinner as well as about the love of his immortal life, and Nicolò is absolutely enamoured by everything he writes ❤️

[alkaysani-archived]

For @blood-suits-and-tears – I hope you like this one, love. It has few of your favourite things, Kaysanova, Booker and my very own Booklet, Joseph. Happy birthday darling! May it be the best birthday yet!

*** a follow up on sir, hold my hand – where “Mr. Icky” aka Nicky helps little Joseph find his “Unca Yufu” and Papa, aka Yusuf and Sebastien, and ends up tripping into meeting a stranger who captivates him in a way that maybe, akin to falling in love ***

aka the return of Mr Icky and Unca Yufu

read on ao3 here

from me, to future you

They find Joseph’s Papa, and Nicky bids them goodbye not long after that.

But not before Yusuf tugs on his hand, as it remain in his, and smiles at him softly.

“You need to take my number,” he says, voice gentle, as he gives Nicky’s phone back to him. He had used it to contact Sebastien after his own had died, like planned. “I’ve already entered it in your phone, but I want you to send me a text so I have a nice surprise when it turns back on again.”

Nicky feels his mouth go dry as he takes the phone, and looks down. He swipes through his contacts and sure enough there’s a new entry.

Yusuf “Joe/Yufu” al Kaysani. 

He snorts, and finds himself writing a message as requested, almost immediately.

Hi, it’s Nicolò “Nicky/Icky” di Genova. Dinner sometime?

Nicky sends it and pockets the phone immediately, and looks up at Yusuf tilting his head curiously.

“What did you say to my future self?” he asks, and Nicky grins. This man is adorable.

“Your future self would just have to wait and see,” he replies, smoothly, he hopes, and Yusuf lets out a soft whining sound before nodding and squeezing his hand again, before finally, finally letting go.

And already, Nicky misses it.

What?

“Oh I’m definitely looking forward to it,” Yusuf says, before winking at him, and then turning to jog towards where Sebastien and Joseph are, the two of them waving at Nicky then, Joseph bouncing and grinning, little curls bouncing with him.

“Fank ‘oo for hep, Mista Icky!” he screams, and Nicky laughs, unable to help it.

“You’re most welcome, Joseph. Nice to meet you!” he says, and Sebastien grins.

“Oh I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of you!” he says, and just narrowly avoids a slap on the head from Yusuf just as Nicky flushes red.

It only takes about half an hour before he gets a text message from Yusuf.

Hello, Nicolò. Dinner sounds wonderful. Meet me tomorrow at this park around 5:30PM and we’ll walk together? Let’s go down James Street. 

There’s a pin on the park close his own workplace, which is about a 15 minute walk to James Street, a street lined with the best places to have dinner at. Nicky stares at the message, feeling like Yusuf can somewhat read his mind, or is just the most perfect person to exist. 

Nicky blinks.

Oh no, he definitely has it bad. He can hear Quynh giggling in his head, and he honestly can’t wait to see her over the weekend to tell her all about this dinner that hasn’t even happened yet.

He smiles, and then swipes to reply, and when he walks to the kitchen to make something to eat, he feels like he’s bouncing.

I can’t wait, Yusuf. See you very soon. 

***

“MR. ICKY!”

Nicky blinks, and then laughs when he sees Joseph running towards him, his Papa and Yusuf right behind him. Well, it’s more like waddling, little fat chubby legs just working overtime to get to where he is. He meets him majority of the way, and crouches immediately to greet him, smiling.

“Hello, Joseph!” he greets, and finds himself making an “oof” sound when the child barrels right into him, hugging him tight around the neck. Nicky keeps them both balanced, and smiles when the child pulls away.

“Unca Yufu shays you has a date wif him! Wassa date? Ish it fun? Josefee hash date wif you next?” Joseph asks, and Nicky chuckles, glancing at Sebastien and Yusuf now, who are both smiling down at them.

“Well, we can definitely have that arrange, I think? Do you mind if hold you?” he asks, and immediately, Joseph beams, nodding with bright eyes that are not unlike his Papa’s.

“You asky wike Papa anna Unca! Yesh pease, Mista Icky,” he says, and Nicky smiles, taking Joseph gently in his arms and standing up, walking closer to the other men.

“Your son just asked me out on a date,” Nicky says to Sebastien who grins, punching Yusuf on the shoulder lightly, who whines, pouting a little.

“My son’s got game, Joe, and he’s after yours,” Sebastien says, with such pride and Yusuf shakes his head.

“Hush up, Book. Baby, Nicky’s my date,” he explains, motioning for his godson now, and Nicky gives him with a smile, watching closely. Joseph giggles and nods, poking Yusuf on the cheek with a grin.

“I knows. Buh I go wif him afta. Unca, I foun’ Mista Icky,” he says, and Nicky finds that he’s completely enamoured with the child, smiling.

“Baby, technically, he found you,” Sebastien starts, but Joseph is shaking his head fiercely, his curls slapping his Uncle on the cheek, who just takes it to stride like it happens all the time.

“Nu! I did!” Joseph exclaims, and Nicky nods then.

“Actually, that’s true. He approached me and asked me for my help, while I was on my lunch. So, he did find me,” he says in a soft voice, and he finds Sebastien smiling at him, while Yusuf out right grins, before turning his attention back to Joseph, who is all puffed up at being proven right.

“Well then. My apologies, dear godson. May I go on a date with Mr. Nicky first?” Yusuf asks, tone actually apologetic, pouting at the child who was giggling at him, and nodding, leaning in to kiss his forehead.

“Oh cosh, Unca! Anna we go afta, yesh, Papa?” he says, to which Sebastien just nods.

“Of course. Maybe we can go to the art museum?” he suggests, and Nicky smiles, tilting his head at Joseph who looks at him with excitement.

 “I’d love to go.”

Yusuf nudges his godson’s cheek then with his nose, blinking at him. Nicky glances at Sebastien to find him rolling his eyes with a smile on his face.

“May I join the date at the art museum?” Yusuf asks, and Joseph doesn’t even hesitate, he nods, and plants another kiss on his godfather’s forehead.

“Yesh, oh cosh! ‘ow yous go wif Mista Icky!” he says, extending his arms towards his Papa now. Yusuf relents his hold, and plants a kiss on Joseph and Sebastien’s forehead then, the man just smiling as he holds his kid. 

“Have him home by 10PM!” Sebastien grins, winking at Nicky as he blushes, again. Yusuf squawks beside him, but Nicky just grabs his hand then, and waves at Joseph, who was frantically waving then as his Papa starts to walk.

“Say bye-bye, Uncle Yufu,” he whispers to Yusuf, who laughs, waving in unison with him now.

“I’ll see you soon!” he says, and they do it until Sebastien rounds the corner. Only then does Nicky turn to Yusuf, to find the man already looking at him and smiling.

“You and your family are hilarious,” Nicky says to him, and Yusuf throws his head back in laughter, squeezing his hand and pulling him then to walk towards the direction of James Street.

“They’re ridiculous but I love them. We go for walks together after work every other day, and I didn’t want to miss it, hence meeting here,” Yusuf explains, and Nicky shakes his head. 

“It was nice seeing them both again,” he whispers, smiling. “Being called Mr. Icky keeps me humble. 

With a snort, Yusuf squeezes his hand again and flashes him a smile that Nicky already adores.

“Thank you for asking my future self, now past self, to go to dinner, Nicolò,” he whispers, and Nicky finds himself staring then, for a moment, before nodding and nudging the man slightly on the arm, then slipping his arm under his and holding close. How adorable.

"You're adorable," he says aloud, and Yusuf just chuckles. 

He feels a kiss on his forehead then, feels Yusuf melt against him, and Nicky can’t help but feel like he’s floating this time. Closer and closer to this man that he just met.

“You’re most welcome, Yusuf.”

[thehuntersmoondiscord]

Crossovers, Mingling, and Fusions! OH MY!  Here is the masterpost for the Hunter’s Moon Discord Crossover Event. If you love seeing two of your favorite fandoms collide, you’ll love these amazing creations! 

(Special shout out to @foxymoley for the beautiful event banner <3 ) 

Hunter Hills by @ember-rayne-storm 

Malec, Sterek | Teen | (Tumblr Post) After being forced through a portal, Alec and Magnus find themselves in a strange new world. A world where an equally strange and potentially dangerous creature lurks nearby. Tags:  Post-Canon, Crossover, Interdimensional Travel, Established Malec, Snippet, Happy Ending

Malec Art by @high-warlock-of-brooklyn

Torn Wings by @brightasstars

Malec | Teen | (Tumblr Post) So you see, the story is not quite as you were told." - Maleficient Tags:  Malec/Maleficent fusion, emotional hurt/comfort, fairy tale style and elements, light angst with happy ending

Won’t Go Home Without You by @sowrongitslottie

Malec | Teen After finding a semi-unconscious Magnus Bane on the side of the road, the Five-O team are thrown into the world of magic and demons as an evil entity threatens to disrupt the peace of the island. Not knowing who else to call, Commander Steve McGarrett gets through to Magnus’ partner, Alec Lightwood, who hops on the first flight available with Downworlder and known New York cop, Luke Garroway. Will the pair be able to help the Five-O task force uncover the mystery of this entity or will they be targeted just like Magnus? Tags:  Malec, Shadowhunters, McDanno, Hawaii Five-O, Crossover Event, Alec Lightwood, Magnus Bane, Steve McGarrett, Danny Williams, Hurt/Comfort, Nephilim, Warlock, Cops

Of Taste by @jesssssah

Malace | Mature | (Tumblr Post)  Once the lonely and disillusioned human son of wealthy New Yorkers, Alec is now a no less lonely and disillusioned vampire who has developed a crush on a similarly jaded tabloid journalist. When said journalist - Jace - becomes enamoured with Alec during an interview he’s not expecting to conduct, and asks him to make him immortal, Alec grows angry and returns to solitude, leaving Jace alone with only memories, feelings, and the recording he’s made of their interview. In Alec’s wake and absence, Alec’s sire - Magnus - finds Jace, promising to give him the immortality he knows Alec won’t, if he still wishes to choose it. But only once Magnus is done showing Jace what immortality really entails. Tags:  Interview With The Vampire Fusion - AU, past Malec, Angst, Moral Ambiguity, BAMF Magnus Bane, Bisexual Jace Wayland, One Canon-Typical Joke About Cancer, Explicit Language, Slurs For Sex Workers, Homophobia, Recollections Of Conversion Therapy, Internalised Homophobia, Repressed Bisexuality, Vampire Typical Death/Violence, Choking, Claiming Marks/Bruising, Blood Drinking, Siring, Sexual References, Coming Out Themes, Drug References, Ambiguous/Open Ending

Malec Art: A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes... by @livinglifebehindthemask

Institutes and Recreation by @bextraordinary

Malec, Jimon, Clizzy | Teen | (Tumblr Post) Otherwise known as “Alec Lightwood's misadventures with a van full of idiots" On a road trip to the Los Angeles Institute, the shadowhunters and their downworld companions are lost in an Indiana town called Pawnee where they meet two very enthusiastic locals. Tags:  Shadowhunters (TV), Parks and Recreation, Crossover, Crack, Road Trips

The Painting by @sivan325

Malec, Buddie, Sterek | Teen | (Tumblr Post)

“Alexander, get away from that picture, I think that it’s cur-“ Magnus said but felt himself get sucked into the painting with his husband. “-sed,” Magnus finished his sentence as he landed on top of his husband, who lay on some soft grass, the air so clean as they breathed.

Tags:  Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Fellowship of the Ring fusion, Dancing with the Stars fusion, Blood, Poison, Alpha Derek Hale, Mage Stiles Stilinski, whump alec lightwood, Hurt Alec Lightwood, whump derek hale, Hurt Derek Hale, Hurt/Comfort, Bingo Square: Cursed Item, Crack, Fluff, Curses, Husbands Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Battle Couple Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Power Couple Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood

36 years to forever by @squiggly-lines-on-a-page

Malec, NickyxJoe | Teen  Alec is 36 when he finds himself not bleeding to death in fucking Jersey. If there is anything he is sure of it is that he should be dead. Tags:  Alec Lightwood-centric, MCD, dont worryThey get better, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Immortal Husbands Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood, Immortal Husbands Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova

[every-aj-needs-an-angel]

So last week was a particularly tough one for me, one of the rubbish things about getting older is that everyone I used to rely on now has their own lives. I’m no longer the practice baby because they all have their own so when life hits like a ton of bricks, I’m usually just left to crawl through it alone but this time I had help here. I could log in and there’d be a beautiful piece of artwork, a mind blowing gif, some incredible writing or a fun ask game going on and long story short it all just helped so much that I wanted to give something back, even if it pales in comparison its the thought that counts right? Anyway this little sort of AU idea has been floating around my head for a while so I decided to try to write it out as an ode to all the lovely blogs, just for being their wonderful selves. @yusufnicolo @ssungods @marwankenzari @nicolodigenovas @noenoaholi @aliceblakeart @ahkaraii @fereldenturnip @hachinana87 @luminarai @mannadraws @tiups @monicashipsnickyjoe @nico-di-genova @nilefreemans @quyhns @fantasticbeastsandheretofindthem @leanconnoli @pirateladyoftherbbc @spearmintthief @starsisbig @stuart-littles-gay-attorney Thank you so much and sorry in advance.

I’ve Been Dreaming Of You My Whole Life.

A Joe/Nicky tale.

When Yusuf was finally born there was no wailing, no snuffling, no hiccuping sobs, just silence. His mother wasn’t surprised, it had been a long and arduous labour and she was too numb to be sad or disappointed yet. No one tried to save little Yusuf, he was born in a different time, no one yet knew how or that it was even possible. Although a short time later when baby Yusuf not only started to breathe, but scream as healthily as any other baby, all on his own, they were all delighted by their miracle. No one questioned it, just grateful for their beautiful bundle of joy, especially when their first born turned out to be their only child.

Little Nicolò was a surprise, born as the third child to parents thought too old to have another, his elder siblings taking care of him when he would become too fussy and restless. Ten year old, Lucia would take her baby brother on long walks to entertain him, fashioning a sling to carry him on her back when his little legs grew tired of walking. Thirteen year old, Ermo on his way back from town, caught up to his younger siblings on the road leading back to their home. Nico was tiring of being carried, kicking and whining, but the sun was starting to set and not wanting to stop so close to home, Ermo agreed to hold Nicolò steady while he was released from his sling. Disaster struck, however, when the teen was distracted by their neighbours daughter waving enthusiastically and shouting his name, Ermo turned his back on his siblings to return her attentions and Nicolò fell from the sling hitting the ground with a dull thud. An impassioned argument started between the two siblings until they realised with horror that for the first time in his life Nicolò was completely silent and frighteningly still. Ermo sprinted home to fetch their parents but by the time the family arrived back to where the accident had happened, Nicolò was up and wandering around, babbling to his sobbing sister. Their father checked Nicolò over and they went home, not thinking too much of it, just happy that the littlest member was unharmed but the two older siblings learned to be much more careful with their baby brother.

Yusuf had always dreamed of three people, always the same three people, until one day he started to dream of a little boy as well. Unfortunately for Yusuf he didn’t have any real friends, other children were always mean to him even though he was always kind, he didn’t understand why but he didn’t mind much. Instead he kept the people from his dreams close to him, taking them into his heart, they became his friends, hoping one day the weapon wielding ladies and their battle ready companion would come and rescue him from his ordinary and lonely life. The dreams of the boy with the sky coloured eyes and the wild mop of hair started just as life became simultaneously better and worse for Yusuf, better for his new friend, worse in the way he was treated, although the other children’s scorn at a growing boy having imaginary friends did have one advantage in that, in his attempt to explain how he saw the world, Yusuf became a highly adept artist.

The dreams were interpreted differently by Nicolò, when he saw a tiny baby or a little boy with a head full of tiny ringlets, kind eyes and a dazzling smile mixed with images of three adults, always together, smiling even in battle; Nicolò thought them a calling. Visions of a numinous little boy mistaken for the Messiah and, depending on how old Nicolò was, either disciples or those known as the Three Wise Men. His family encouraged this hypothesis when he told them of the dreams, especially after a few years of the same recurring characters, even if the dreams themselves sometimes differed, no one questioned the theory that there were bigger plans for their Nico. The dreams fuelled his belief, strengthening it all throughout his life, thinking he’d been chosen for a purpose, especially as his morals wavered over a choice between leaving the priesthood or joining Ermo in going to battle. Nicolò wasn’t sure he was as brave as the three friends he saw every night but by his late teens he was sure his visions were guiding him in the right direction so he set off with his big brother.

Once word of invaders reached Yusuf’s people he suddenly became less enamoured with the idea of people who fought so easily. Images of the blue eyed boy, slowly becoming a man, were always fewer than those of the three unlikely best friends but he now woke in a cold sweat whenever he saw them. Their laughter once joyful, now seemed taunting rather than comforting. Yusuf began to wonder whether he’d known of the invasion all his life and had never heeded the warning. He offered to take night watch, learning how to fight in the day, readying himself to defend his home until bone deep exhaustion took over and he didn’t dream, just slept. He repeated this behaviour until the battle came, although he almost missed it, running into the fray in time to see sky blue eyes, that he knew better than he knew his own, staring back in disbelief.

Nicolò’s shock was quickly taken over by anger, deep rooted fear that maybe what he’d been seeing for as long as he could remember wasn’t what he thought after all, that he’d blindly walked into this life. The trust he’d put into his assumed visions shattering as he stared back into the face of the young man he should hate but knew all too well, leaving deep betrayal and visions of the horrors he’d seen since he started his journey bubbling in his mind's eye, fuelling his rage like a lightning storm, death, destruction and his big brother’s broken body and lifeless eyes causing a red mist. Nicolò was unseeing with it, could barely breathe and trembling with the need to do something.

Yusuf couldn’t quite believe his eyes, rubbing at them trying to clear what he presumed was a sleep deprived haze, those distinctive features, the azure eyes staring back, it just seemed impossible, especially when they mirrored such recognition. Surely such a kind and brilliant person couldn’t be a part of this, couldn’t be a part of the death and destruction of the reputation that preceded the invaders, eyes so beautifully blue that crinkled just so when he smiled, couldn’t hate so deeply that he would join such an unjust cause. It had to be a hallucination or maybe he was still asleep and dreaming. It wouldn’t be the first time he’d dreamed of battles, only those dreams were usually filled with laughter whereas now all he could hear was the clangs of metal and the rage of men.

Nicolò charged forward not really sure what he was doing, what he really wanted to do was run away, far away, all the way back home. He didn’t know why he was running into the mess that surrounded him, he certainly didn’t realise he was holding his sword until it was sticking in the boy he’d been dreaming of for as long as he could remember, who seemed equally shocked to have instinctively reached for his own weapon slicing blindly but precisely. The choking and lack of breath wasn’t as scary as Nico had assumed it would be. The rage he’d felt not moments ago draining from him in an instant was replaced by a deep disappointment that he’d never get to find out what the dreams meant or who the boy now in front of him was. It was a little late to ask even if they had the capacity to do so and as he sunk to the ground watching the light fade from the familiar brown eyes and from around his vision he wondered if they’d meet again, wherever it was they were going now.

Waking alone in a field full of bodies but the one you died with felt bizarre to Yusuf, he still wasn’t sure he wasn’t dreaming but he was quite sure his imagination wasn’t good enough to conjure the sights and smells that surrounded him, his only comfort being that there seemed to be more dead invaders than those of his people. He realised that he now had a choice, he could go home and wait for the next battle or he could leave in the hopes of catching up to the blue eyed boy, in the hopes of getting some answers. Maybe he knew that they dreamed of each other, maybe he dreamed of the three friends too and maybe he knew why they dreamed of each other. Although right now a more pressing question seemed to be why did you just stab me? but somehow Yusuf instinctively knew that he’d not really meant it, or maybe that was wishful thinking. As he checked himself for the wound he realised it was missing, he wondered again if he was just dreaming but decided either way he was going after his friend. Yusuf chuckled to himself as he realised that he still classed his murderer as his friend, maybe there was something wrong with him like the others had always said after all.

It was three days after the battle and Nicolò had never felt so alone, his brother and his battalion dead, the person he dreamed of was too. He wondered if this was his punishment for questioning his purpose, being left to roam the world alone, maybe he’d get home and find his mother and sister gone too. Nicolò just wanted to sleep but he couldn’t, images taking over his mind, the resonating metal, the taste of blood, tiny matted ringlets on a lifeless body that usually exuded vivacity, he was almost certain he’d only stopped being ill because his body had nothing left to give. At this point he really didn’t care, he would either finally get some rest or his body would give up altogether but the footsteps coming towards him had him instinctively on his feet, weapon in hand and he was reminded that he came from a long line of warriors, it’d take more than a little brooding to change who he was, who he came from, they were all a part of him whether he liked it or not.

Yusuf shuffled to a stop, three days he’d walked and now here he was with a blade sticking out of his chest, he supposed by now he shouldn’t be surprised but surprise was one of the emotions reflected back at him in the sleep deprived, manic blue eyes of the one person he was determined to find, though Yusuf’s slowly staling brain wondered if this one was real, maybe the other three were too. Consciousness flickered as he fell to his knees, concern, confusion and, going by the little crinkle in his dark eyebrows, annoyance pouring out of the blue, washing over Yusuf along with the warmth of the campfire that had led him in the right direction, the yellow light causing some of the flecks to appear green adding an ethereal aura to the one person he simultaneously knew and didn’t, who he fervently he hoped he’d wake again to see.

Present Day

“I thought you said you’d killed each other many times” Nile asked

“Oh, we did! Not always on purpose, of course,” Joe laughed

“We didn’t speak the same language, communication was difficult to start with,” Nicky elaborated, turning back to the stove.

“It sounds like there’s a story behind that!” Nile exclaimed, excitedly banging her hands on the kitchen table.

“Oh there is,” Andy sniggered, taking a sip of her coffee.

“Please, no,” Nicky whined, refusing to look at the group.

“Tell Nile what the first thing you learned to say was,” Andy tittered, Nile turning her full attention to Nicky’s back. Joe reached out to hold Nicky’s hand, rubbing his thumb back and forth as Nicky mumbles inaudibly.

“What was that?” Nile asked giddily.

“I’ve been dreaming of you my whole life,” Joe and Nicky repeat in unison, Nicky turned to look at Joe, a soft smile crinkling his eyes.

Neither man notices Nile’s revering gaze or Andy silently gaining her attention and them both sneaking out the kitchen leaving the lovers to their reminiscing.

[sulfurousdreamscapes]

"Wake up, Baba!" Yusuf and Miriam, twin lights of my life, pulled on my sleeve just as the dawn light was reaching in through the window. "The Walking Library is coming here!"

The Walking Library. Nadia always kept telling the kids about it, that when she was a kid, the Walking Library would visit her village. They were enamoured by the tales, and they'd ask me if the Walking Library ever came to the village where I was born. I told them no, and I told them to go to sleep.

Nadia was already up, and surprisingly, she was dressed for outside.

"It's true, it's here," she said with a smile. Her nose ring glinted in the light, and she pulled the scarf over her hair. "You don't want miss it."

Outside, the kids were already crowding the streets. Usually it'd just be the shepherds up and about at this time, but this time, we'd need an angel to shepherd the kids.

They kept pointing at the horizon, where the Walking Library placed one great wooden foot after another, marching towards our village. The children squawked like birds. Some of the older ones had books with them, which they wanted to donate.

"Come on, I think it's going to set up in Javed's field!" Miriam tugged at my pants. Nadia hushed her, but I tousled her hair.

We were halfway towards the Library when it knelt down by the field. Its knee-guards—or well, they looked like knee-guards—bore great platforms to support the beast. The great man-shaped library then bent unnaturally, laying its legs down flat and raising its chest straight up.

"It's opening!" Miriam shouted, and the kids started running ahead, even as Nadia shouted at them and I ran to catch up.

The Walking Library's hands clutched the great cabinet doors of its chest, and sunk the fingers deep into holes larger than caves. It pulled the doors open, baring its chest, the treasure trove of thousands of books that graced its intricate insides.

Spiral staircases wound through the floors like arcane bone structure. Shelves and shelves of books were stacked on enough rows that no adult could see them all in a week, let alone a child.

Inside, not a soul peeped out. The Library's great, impassive face looked at our village, and its eyes lit ablaze from within. There were so many wonders on display, at once, that we all just stood in awe.

And then, Yusuf and Miriam looked at us for approval. "Let's go," I said with a smile. Nadia held their hands in her practised grip.

The Library always stayed in place until nightfall. That was the legend Nadia had always told the kids. I was worried the great thing would get up and trap us inside it, but the sun arced upwards, and then proceeded into the other side of the sky, and here we were: still browsing the library.

When sky's brightness began to fade, I told the kids that it was time to go. Yusuf asked if he could take a book with him—it was a long story about a valiant princess. Before I could tell him no, Nadia told him that it was okay. Miriam picked out a book, too. It was about all the rivers in the world.

It was only some time after we got out that the library began closing its great doors.

"Now you believe me?" Nadia smiled, as the Library stood up in reverse, its grand silhouette making an impression against the waning sky.

"I'm not even sure I believe myself," I replied.

[njcklenjart]

Post-fbtcog, part 6

Tina leaves that following week. She’s not the only one, Yusuf the first to depart. He promises to keep in touch and to visit, but is determined to get his affairs in order.

“I’ve let my father’s revenge take so much of my life,” he says sadly, shaking their hands one by one. “I think it’s time I do something for myself.”

Jacob prepares him some food. “I ain’t one of them French cooks, but at least you won’t leave hungry.”

In a prejudice world, Yusuf is a kindred soul, a pureblood who accepts the gifts of a Muggle and willingly embraces a Maledictus when even the more revered wizard would not. He leans in close when Jacob leads Nagini back to the kitchen to finish everyone else’s breakfast. “Look after Mlle. Nagini. She’ll be treated far better here than anywhere I take her.”

Theseus promises and, while Newt’s brother is a good man (if not insufferable at times), he’d never been one to take in strays. Paris has taken something from each of them, but it’s also given something in return. Another chance.

Newt personally takes Tina to the Ministry that night.

They stand by the fireplace in silence, awaiting her turn while the crowds of witches and wizards pass by, an air of morose hanging over them like a stormcloud. Staring at the pristine stone that make the mantle, the shining plaque that reads ‘New York City’ in lovely cursive, Newt comes to a sudden realization. He absolutely doesn’t want her to leave.

They haven’t spoken much about what lies between them, about what it means, or what comes after. It’s something entirely new, more dangerous than any of his escapades to foreign jungles and deserts, his pulse rocketing in anticipation at the mere thought of her responses. For the first time in his life, Newt would like nothing more than to talk about this terrifying feeling, except he isn’t sure how to go at it himself.

“I’ll get Jacob situated,” he promises instead of bringing it up, “and Nagini will be taken care of. She’s agreed to let me, um, study her curse. I’m not sure I can do much—alleviate the symptoms maybe—and hopefully give her more time.”

“Thank you.” The cool light in the atrium paints the scene like it’s the end of some tragedy and it’s a pitiful way to end their story. “Take care of yourself, Newt.”

Newt glances up at her and finds that Tina’s holding back tears and he reaches forward to do—what, he doesn’t know—only for Tina cover the rest of the distance for him. She steps into his space and envelops him in a what he can only describe as a loving embrace, and, after a beat, his arms wrap themselves around her waist like this is a normal habit of his. He holds her tight, beginning to see why Theseus likes it so much, the feel of someone he so desperately wants close, unwilling to let go just yet, not until he’s ingrained the moment in his memory for duller days.

“I will,” he says to the crook of her neck and soon he’s holding back his own wave of emotions. Exchanging letters will be a pitiful replacement, inadequate to having the real object of his affection in front of him, speaking to her whenever he likes. “Try not get in so much trouble that I need to go chasing after you.”

She squeezes a little tighter. “Keep doing that.”

“Do what?”

She pulls away to face him and this close her eyes are dark and endless. “Chase after me.”

It’s a quieter breakfast the following morning.

“Where’s Tina?”

Newt looks up from his breakfast. “She went back to New York.”

Jacob nearly drops the eggs from the pan. “What? Tell me you didn’t mention no salamanders and scare her off.”

Theseus looks at him confused and Newt resolutely keeps his gaze on the tabletop. He never openly talked about his growing fondness for Tina, preferring to be selfish and keep her to himself, and with the engagement and his newfound fame, he valued his solidarity more than ever.

“I don’t understand why that would scare her off. As an auror she sees and hears quite a lot of unsightly things,” Newt says, playing with his food, his appetite nonexistent. “And she took the compliment rather well.”

“She did? Then what went wrong? Did she tell you?”

Newt shrugs, just as confused. “We haven’t, um, spoken about it much. I’m not sure Tina…she said she wants me to chase after her…”

For the first time in days, Jacob’s expression doesn’t have any lingering sadness. He looks gobsmacked. “And you’re still here?”

“Well, she still has things to take care of in New York. MACUSA will want a report of what happened in Paris and I suppose she needs to deal with her…” Newt grimaces. “Boyfriend.”

Theseus is staring at him strangely now, like he’s grown two more heads.

There’s a clatter as Jacob abandons his cooking and pulls up a chair beside him, breakfast forgotten. His elbow nearly topples Pickett’s small dish of lice. “Listen, pal. When a doll says to come after her then you follow her!” He turns to their only female companion. “Right?”

Nagini stares blankly at them, startled from her own activity; she’s become enamoured with the baby nifflers and their courageous attitudes and has been giving Newt’s spare change to the little buggers. Pumpernickel has become particularly fond of her and begun to gift her bits and pieces of treasure that only he finds valuable. Brass knobs, golden wrappings, and the like. “I don’t…”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart.” Jacob pushes past her blunder. “We’ll, uh, go over the rules later.”

Newt frowns. “It’d be easier if everyone was middle-headed instead flapping around like a diricawl in heat in the hopes of doing the right step.”

Jacob stares at him for a beat. “I don’t know how to answer that.” He turns to Theseus who shakes his head.

“I don’t know either. Newt, you’ve treated her as equally as everyone else, am I right?” When Newt makes to explain that Tina is not like anyone he’s ever met, his brother gives him a stern glare. “She accepted your confession, though as strange as it was?”

“Yes, but—”

“Then what’s stopping you from snatching her back?”

“Snatch her back? Tina’s not—I don’t think that’s appropriate here.”

Jacob continues despite Newt’s preference for this conversation to end. “When you see her again, all you have to do is sweep her off her feet and place a good one on her. Go to town until she’s swooning. Gals like that.”

Newt flushes. Tina might jinx him if he did such a thing.

“Let her decide,” Nagini whispers and they all quiet at the sound of her voice. “You both should compromise and…not think so much about it.”

Jacob rolls with this advice as enthusiastically as he did with Theseus’s. “Go find your thunderbird.”

Newt frowns. “Excuse me?”

“I’m just trying to speak your language. You know what—forget I even said that.” Jacob takes Newt’s morning tea from him and pulls him to his feet while Theseus summons his coat. “You gotta get to New York stat!”

Newt stumbles when his clothes straighten and clean themselves, pulls at his tie when it tightens a smidge too tight. “I’m still banned from international travel!”

“I’ll deal with Travers and the rest.” Theseus lays a hand on his case when Newt makes to grab it. “Let’s keep this here for this trip. I’ll send for your assistant if there’s any trouble.”

He’s not a stranger to impromptu adventures, faces most problems in his life with the assumption that surprises should be expected and that it was better to go with the flow of things rather than fight the impossible, to enjoy the value of the experience. Except this is more terrifying than anything he’s ever faced, laced with guilt at the mere aspect of focusing on something so selfish while the world is that much closer to crumbling; it feels wrong to be happy when others have lost so much.

Nagini must guess his thoughts because she smiles sadly and reaches for his hand as he passes by, pressing something into his palm. A miniature salamander made from the golden wrapping of a liquor bottle cap. “For good luck.”

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

[hoziersmoon]

🧑 🍄 💡 📒 the last one's a joke because i know the answer is yes but i told you i'd bother you till i got to read it and i was not lying <3

hi beloved!! 💘

🧑 favorite character to write?

this will come as a surprise to NO ONE but i love love love writing yusuf with all my heart. what i love even more than that is writing from the perspective of a character who loves yusuf as much as i do because i get to pour all my affection for his character into my writing <3

🍄how do you get yourself in the mood to write?

i wish i could say i have a routine for this but honestly sometimes i just have to wait for the muse to strike. one of the most cliche places this happens is in the shower and i have definitely gotten out of the shower and grabbed my phone to quickly write down a line/idea in my notes before i forget it.

💡what inspires your fic ideas?

OH! okay usually i have like (1) scenario that i want to put the characters in, and then i start working around that. i know i’ve told you this, but the multiverse au spawned from me wanting to write a younger yusuf flirting with a thousand-year-old nicky, and i kinda built everything else after that!!

📒any fics planned?

ajslkjdslkjdssdkjl <3 YOU KNOW I DO!!!! okay for anyone who read the multiverse au and is patiently waiting, i AM currently writing a fic about the divorced joe&nicky from chapter 3. have a snippet under the cut:

The next day, they pack a bag at Nicky’s apartment and grab Amira’s things, then bring it all over to Joe’s place. As they all step inside together, Joe realizes that Nicky’s never actually spent much time here beyond dropping Amira off. It’s slightly disorienting to see him moving around a space that Joe got specifically to put space between himself and Nicky.

Amira has no such reservations. She’s thrilled to have both of her parents in one place, and Joe winces thinking about the inevitable tears that will come at the end of the week when Nicky goes back to his own apartment.

That’s a problem for future-Joe, though. For now, he watches Amira give Nicky the grand tour of his tiny apartment, dragging Nicky by the hand, her voice climbing with excitement, “And this one’s my room, Papa! Look, Baba painted Kiki and Jiji on the wall for me.”

Nicky smiles down at her fondly, tucking one of her curls behind her ear. “Very nice, tesoro.”

“And there’s my witch hat on the bookshelf!” She points at it, demanding politely, “Lift me up so I can get it, per piacere.”

“‘Mira,” Joe admonishes, even as Nicky lifts her up without a second thought, “Papa just got out of the hospital. Let’s give him some time to feel better, yes, habibti?”

“I’m fine, Joe, really.” Nicky places the witch hat over Amira’s curls, adjusting it so she can see. “It was just a one-off thing, I’m sure.”

“You told me you don’t remember anything that happened after I turned up at your place last night.”

Nicky’s odd behaviour from the night before makes less and less sense, the more that he thinks about it. He has a visceral sense-memory of Nicky’s broad familiar hand cupping his cheek, their faces so close that Joe could feel his breath puffing across Joe’s lips.

His voice low, firm: ‘I will always worry about you, and I will always take care of you.’

Joe had remembered at that moment what it had felt like to fall in love with Nicky for the first time. The way he’d been so enamoured by the way Nicky would just say things like that: sincerely, unselfconsciously, factually. The way he’d focus all that kind, loving attention on Joe, how heady that was.

What had gotten to Joe the most last night was that look in Nicky’s eyes: unguarded, open, eyes shining with unfettered love. A look that Joe hadn’t seen on him in a year— maybe longer than that.

Just for a second, he’d forgotten that Nicky wasn’t his anymore, that he wasn’t Nicky’s. It had hurt all the more then, when he’d remembered.

It hurts now.

Nicky’s voice breaks through the fog of Joe’s thoughts, “I really think I was just sleepwalking. I was napping on the couch when you got there. Did I do anything odd?”

Joe looks at him for a moment. Whatever had caused Nicky’s sudden affection last night is long gone. His eyes are as guarded as they’ve ever been this past year since they separated.

“No. Nothing weird.” Joe shakes his head, tries to smile. “You’re still taking the bed, though. I’ll take the couch.”

Amira has found her way up onto Nicky’s shoulders, waving her plastic wand over Nicky’s head, muttering rhyming incantations under her breath. Nicky holds her steady by the ankles, “Fine,” he tells Joe, “but only for tonight. We’ll switch off.”

“Fine.” Joe agrees.

Maybe if he says it enough, it will be.

[museumofkashmir]

Durear / Separation — Queen Habba Khatoon • Habba Khatoon was Kashmir’s Empress. She was married to Sultan Yusuf Shah Chak who had fallen in love, when he came across her, during a hut in the woods. • Habba Khatoon’s maiden name was Zoon which means the moon in Kashmiri. After being subjected to domestic abuse in her first marriage. She got divorced to get rid of that toxic relationship. • Yusuf was instantly enamoured by her personality. He got married to her, despite her being a divorcee. A taboo that continues in Kashmiri society till this day. • Under Chak’s rule Kashmir broke into a sectarian strife, a full-blown civil war was about to break out. A group of Kashmiris went to see Akbar, the Mughal Emperor to mediate in the crisis. Kashmir then was an independent country with its own King and ambassadors in many courts in Central and South Asia. • Akbar invites Yusuf to Delhi to hold talks to end the crisis. Yusuf despite being advised to not leave, had no option but to meet the powerful counterpart in Delhi. • Yusuf while deliberating with Akbar on Kashmir was detained and imprisoned. Akbar seeing an opportunity sent his army to add Kashmir into his empire. • Habba Khatoon was devastated knowing that her husband and lover was detained. She wrote and sang songs on the separation. Her form of poetry is called Lol (longing) which continues to be sung for this day. She wandered through mountains and hill streams in search for Yusuf. • Sultan Yaqub Shah goes to Delhi to seek the release of his brother. But Akbar refused. He offered him a deal where he had to kill a Rajput rival and he would get his brother back. Yaqub was successful and presented his decapitated head while famously saying, “I am Sultan Yaqub Shah Chak and I am a Kashmiri.” • Akbar refused to release his brother and Yaqub left the court angry and betrayed. • Akbar’s army had reached Bhaderwah but due to the warriors of Dar and Magray tribes, they were defeated. They tried again with reinforcements but they were again defeated by the Kashmiri resistance led by Sultan Yaqoob Chak, Yusuf’s younger brother. • More later https://www.instagram.com/p/B3jbyG5n7hF/?igshid=170wob1kw9dcz

[brassmanticore]

Malik said:

I said to him, "By God, tell me what's happening to you," and he replied, "It has only been good.  God called me with His grace, and I answered Him, and so He gave me all that I sought from Him!"

Then he recited:

When He called me, I said, "Welcome! Come in!"       In union with You, how sweet is Your love, how fresh! By Your reality, You are the goal, the wish, the desire,       and when the blamer blames me for loving You and goes on and on, My heart does not long for the Arak trees of Na'man,       nor for Khayf or Quba's land. If they appeared one day with Su'da or Zaynab,      I would not long for Su'da, no, nor desire Zaynab. For whenever those encampments are recalled, O my masters,      then my goal above all others is she who lives in the tent there.**

Malik said, "Then he went back to his circumnambulation of the Kaaba, and he left, and I never saw him again or heard news of him."

** That is to say, the poet is not enamoured of an earthly beloved, and so remembering the alighting places of the Hajj pilgrimage reminds him only of God.

 - From The Principles of Sufism by A’ishah bint Yusuf al-Ba’uniyyah (d. 1516-1517), ed. and tr. by Th. Emil Homerin (New York University Press, 2014), pg. 29.