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lovelikedestiny · 1 year

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Just some humor and romance with our immortal idiots as a little treat before the weekend💕

“Your eyes look like stones.”

This phrase on itself isn’t something Nicolo would consider as an intelligent observation and certainly isn’t proud of, and the way he says it aggravates the embarrassing situation tremendously: blurting it out like the words could burn his mouth if they stayed in a second longer, so sudden that he startles Yusuf who was drawing peacefully in front of the fireplace until now.

Until Nicolo ruined the relaxed ambience.

Instantly, Nicolo wants to take back every word he has ever said but although he cannot die, the power of turning back time isn’t part of his gift. Unfortunately.

Yusuf blinks perplexed, restless fingers stopping in motion. “I beg your pardon?” He says confused and Nicolo wants God to strike him down with a lightning or the earth to swallow him whole as his face starts to burn suspiciously.

And because his brain shortcuts, leaving him helpless on his own, and Nicolo has the ability to get himself into a right mess, he repeats his remark in a voice not sounding tender or gentle but direct and weirdly loud. “Your eyes look like stones.”

“Oh…” Something closely resembling disillusionment erases a spark in Yusuf’s endless night skies and Nicolo thinks he can detect a hint of disappointment in his tone which is more than he can bear. “Uh…I suppose I should thank you for…that?”

Before Nicolo can work up the courage to explain his hugely failed attempt, he turns back to his drawing, brushstrokes somehow more sloppy than before. Any trace of boldness Nicolo had left dies in his throat.

Because his effort to compliment Yusuf’s magnificent eyes has gone badly wrong.

Clenching his fists at his stupidity and incapability to do something right for once and weave colorful metaphors like Yusuf, Nicolo leaves their cabin. Seeking comfort in the presence of their goats, he vents his annoyance while petting their he-goat. “Why is it so hard for me to do one thing right? Just one thing?”

He waits in vain for advice from his furry companions.

Truth is, Yusuf is always the one forming breathtaking pictures not only with paint but with his captivating words too. With his voice, his facial expressions, his eyes, with his whole being, Yusuf is the definition of passion and creation.

He compares Nicolo’s eyes to a reflection of the moon on a motionless lake or shards of sea glass, having trapped the stunning forces of nature inside their fragile heart.

He shows Nicolo eagerly the sketches he made of him every time he has captured him in simple charcoal when he was cooking, goat milking or only daydreaming, in such a way that Nicolo dares to think of himself as…average looking. Because Yusuf manages to turn his flaws - the too big eyes or his huge nose or his large mouth, not able to smile even - into some kind of charm.

He compliments Nicolo nearly every day, so often in fact that Nicolo has no idea how to behave whenever Yusuf tells him how his laugh lights up his face or his facial structure is a perfect replica of an ancient marble statue. Or “He is the moon when I’m lost in darkness and warmth when I shiver in cold. He is the kindness that treats the wound the world has caused me when it has shown its worst again.”

The delicate thing that has evolved between them out of their hardly won truce transformed into a cautious friendship is still fresh and Nicolo finds himself wondering at night, as they lie tightly embraced in bed after a weirdly chaste kiss or another new gesture of an affection that has just started to grow, how he has deserved such a man after all he had done.

After all he had done during the Crusades…after all he had done to his former enemy.

In his first life, Nicolo had always been called verbally clumsy and straightforward; missing elegance in his pattern of speech. He had trouble learning to read, each day staying behind to finish his studies, being the last one of his monastery all the time.

This - the impulse to tell Yusuf how gorgeous he is in Nicolo’s eyes - is new terrain to him, tingling with excitement and worrying by extreme nervousness. Having blown his chance at the first try feels like a heavy stone in his stomach.

No-good, they had named him because he sometimes took longer to comprehend things. Failure, disaster, fool.

He feels like an utter fool now too.

With a groan of embarrassment he buries his head in his hands, tearing at his hair, surrounded by the goats’ pitiful bleating.

Yusuf and he don’t talk much after the…incident, spending their days and nights in the ordinary routine they had acquired themselves but the existing silence between them isn’t comfortable anymore.

It is Nicolo’s fault and he doesn’t know how to fix things, fearing to destroy them further.

On the sixth day he finally takes heart because he cannot endure another night in awkward tension.

“Thank you for the delicious meal,” Yusuf says smiling after dinner, though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and stands to gather the used dishes.

Nicolo stops him by placing a hand on his strong forearm, enjoying the body heat seeping into his own skin as if he had been cold before. “Wait!” A swallow, a withdrawal of his hand when Yusuf freezes in motion. “Please,” he adds pleadingly.

But the crucial factor that leads Yusuf to settle back down on his chair appears to be Nicolo’s anxiously trembling hand on the table he hides a second too late in his lap.

“Is everything alright?” Yusuf wants to know and Nicolo is almost close to crying because Yusuf suddenly seems highly concerned for Nicolo himself. When he isn’t answering Yusuf reaches over the wooden table top, unusually self-conscious in the way he presents the palm of his hand, offering the support of a simple touch. “Nicolo? Did something happen on the market today? Or is it something I s…”

“I’m sorry,” Nicolo bursts out, interrupting Yusuf mid sentence, and bites his tongue inwardly cursing right after due to his lack of finesse in conversing. “Oh my…why am I doing that?” He coughs flustered, suppressing the flight instinct constantly growing inside him. “I’m incredibly sorry, Yusuf. You did nothing wrong, believe me. You’ve been perfect and caring and kind and I want to deeply apologize to you because I screwed up.”

“Apologize for what?” Yusuf inquires, knitting his eyebrows so they form one dark line. “Nicolo, your behavior unsettles me. What is the matter?”

When he leans forward, Nicolo holds his breath, releasing the air only after Yusuf’s slim artist fingers stroke his cheek, calming yet still asking for an explanation of Nicolo’s edginess.

Faced with Yusuf’s obvious concern and the wish to relieve Nicolo of whatever burden he is carrying on his shoulders, he decides to be honest - simple solutions often prove to be the most effective ones.

“For offending you with my blunt remark.” Putting all of his eggs into one basket, he takes hold of Yusuf’s hand, slowly interlacing their fingers until their palms are slotted together like two pieces of a puzzle. “I didn’t mean to compare your eyes with stones and it pains me to know I hurt you with my inept words, even though you didn’t let it show.”

“No, you didn’t hurt me,” Yusuf astonishingly assures him after a moment of consideration, and squeezes his hand as Nicolo grimaces skeptically. “I guarantee you, you didn’t offend me. Was it unexpected what you said? Yes. Did it surprise me? Absolutely. But you didn’t upset me.”

Puzzled, Nicolo scrunches up his nose. “Then why were you so quiet? I couldn’t think of anything else than that I wounded you with my words and induced your disappointment.”

Yusuf smiles slightly at that, finally igniting the familiar spark in the two endless depths. “The only reason why I wasn’t myself the last few days was because I was incapable of figuring out what you wanted to tell me. I’ve heard and used a lot of stylistic devices but your phrase was a riddle I couldn’t solve. What did you allude to?”

To Nicolo’s amazement Yusuf really just seems to be curious about it and he is crushed by a wave of relief. “Your eyes look like stones. I wonder what you were referring t…?”

“I love your eyes,” Nicolo cuts him off for the second time this evening and Yusuf suddenly makes a wheezing sound, hand getting limp in Nicolo’s own.

“What?” It’s almost funny how stunned Yusuf stares at him, lips slightly parted, except it’s not because Nicolo’s heart is beating so fast it hurts and he is sweating and maybe he is getting nauseous.

“I love your eyes.” It is a dry rasp and his throat clicks loudly when he gulps. “I love your eyes, Yusuf.” He reiterates quieter, whispers it like a prayer in the hope of voicing the amount of devotion he feels for Yusuf, filling every single inch of his body. “Your eyes are so much more than stones and undoubtedly not so dull.”

Yusuf continues to speechlessly gaze at him, so Nicolo proceeds getting it all out of his system. “I love your eyes, is what I wanted to express with my pathetic phrase.” Following a sharp impulse he gets up to kneel beside Yusuf, not letting go of their interlocked hands for one second. “Your eyes are warmth: like sun-kissed wood and the glimmer of a safety promising hearth fire. Your eyes brim with raw, pure life and whenever you spot something you like they begin to glow with joy, so vivid I can taste your delight as if it were my own.”

At that, Yusuf tries to say something but all that leaves his mouth is a choked gasp and Nicolo has to laugh, more hysterically than anything else. “I can see infinite night skies in your eyes, beholding every opportunity you’ve gifted me with thanks to your benevolence of reaching out a hand to me after I had killed your people and raided your home. Your eyes are obsidian containing stars and I love them…” Nicolo’s lips curve into a barely visible smile, a bit unsteady in the corners due to the emotions overwhelming him. “...because I love you.”

He hasn’t even time to process that he eventually had the guts to tell Yusuf what went through his head days ago when his attempt on poetry didn’t work out as planned as Yusuf grabs the front of his shirt and nothing but reels him in.

Their mouths collide, clashing, but considering that Nicolo is being kissed by the man he loves and hangs on for dear life, doing his best to kiss him back just as feral, he couldn’t care less.

Yusuf cups his face as they part, both breathing heavily. “”Next time you’re going to be poetic, give me a little warning, okay?”

Nicolo giggles wetly. “I only did what you do to me every day.”

“How else am I supposed to show you how much I love you?” Yusuf says affectionately and Nicolo thinks he might die then and there.

“You love me?”

“Every day a little more, ya amar.” His beloved places another kiss on Nicolo’s lips, and another on his cheek, on his nose, on his forehead, covering his entire face with his lips. “Every second a little more.”

Almost a millennium later, Joe - dozing on their blanket amidst thousands of flowers, shining colorful in the afternoon sun - cracks an eye open and Nicky doesn’t even have to see his face to know about the mischievous grin having appeared in his beard. “What was the poetic declaration you used centuries ago in order to woo me? I’m afraid I cannot recall it. Was it something with stones by chance?”

Nicky merely shifts his weight and turns a page of his book, not making the effort of sparing him a glance. “You are the love of my life, Joe, but shut up.”

#it's been a hot minute since I've posted some newly written stuff so I'm nervous af #the old guard #fanfiction #fanfic #ficlet #tog #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #joe #nicky #joe x nicky #yusuf x nicolo #immortal husbands #immortal idiots in love #kaysanova #some humor #attempt at poetry #love speeches #Nicky probably centuries ago: Yusuf is so romantic I have to compliment him and his beauty #YoUR EyES LoOk LIke StONES #Joe probably centuries ago too: I wonder what Nicolo wants to tell me with that #*insert image of Nicolo hiding in their flock of goats trying to overcome this humiliating attempt of impressing Yusuf with #his weird-ass compliment #face burning bright red #replaying his words every night in his head dying a little more inside every time #while Yusuf is just like #What an intriguing metaphor #a riddle waiting to be solved #a word puzzle meant to sharpen my mind

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rithmeres · 9 months

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i don’t think i’ve rewatched atla since becoming a committed pacifist and i just finished what was probably my tenth rewatch and i have never loved aang more. i've seen it so many times but i still came away with a new appreciation for the way the end of the story was handled. aang is the only survivor of a genocide and he is clinging to the last remnants of his culture and religion, and everyone is telling him the only way to save the world is to kill the dictator whose regime is responsible for the genocide, but to do so would abandon the deeply held beliefs of his people. if aang goes against his beliefs and kills ozai, his people's way of life dies completely and sozin wins.

aang knows it would be wrong but he can't see another way out so he prays for an answer, and the universe hears him and the spirits send out the lion turtle, and the creator answers him. and here's the thing that i never put together before today: aang would not have been able to energybend ozai if he had given in and wanted to kill him. the lion turtle tells aang that only the incorruptible can bend another’s energy, or else they will become corrupted themselves. and i think that aang, because of his love for the fire nation as he had once known it, was never corrupted by personal hatred for the fire lord or the fire nation. he was able to expertly hold two conflicting beliefs in harmony better than any adult could, the belief that ozai is a horrible person and the world would be better off without him and that he's still a human being with a life that is sacred.

and i don't think it's a matter of selfishness like some people make it out to be. aang is not some immature little kid who doesn't want to kill because killing is for bad guys. he's an incredibly wise and spiritual person who was shaped by airbender beliefs and upholds airbender beliefs, and he can see beyond the scope of this war. the balance of the world depends on the existence of the four nations, and aang does not just represent the air nomads, he IS the air nomads. he's all that's left.

despite many people’s interpretation of the four past avatars’ advice, none of the past avatars outright tell him to kill ozai. they tell him to be decisive, to bring justice, to be proactive, to be sacrificial. but none of them tells him definitively to kill him. he doesn't disobey or ignore their advice, he follows their ancient wisdom while still staying true to his beliefs. yangchen actually comes the closest to outright telling him to kill ozai (even more than kiyoshi, surprisingly) but what she fails to account for is that aang is not just the avatar, he is the last airbender, and being the last airbender is far greater a burden than being the avatar. no matter what happens, once he dies, there will always be another avatar. but if he is not careful to preserve the airbender way of life, there will be no more airbenders. yangchen could sacrifice her air nomad way of life for the sake of her duty to the world because there were thousands of other air nomads to continue their traditions. aang has no such privilege.

and it's not that he doesn't want to kill, it's that he actually doesn't think he can do it -- both that he won't be able to emotionally bring himself to kili someone, and, prodigy that he is, he doesn't have the raw bending skill to overcome a comet-powered master firebender. and then it turns from 'i don't think i can do it' into ‘i can’t do it.’ and when the avatar state gives him enough power to actually do it, he changes the answer to ‘i won’t do it.’ he overcomes all the combined power of his past lives to say no, i have found another answer and i will remain incorruptible. to kill is to maintain the power struggle of the fire nation and to reject air nomad wisdom and without airbenders the world CANNOT be brought into balance.

the only thing ozai cares about is power, and that's what the entire fight with ozai is about, physically and ideologically, because ozai only sees power in terms of force, fear, threats, and violence. to ozai, aang (and his entire people) are weak and undeserving of life because they are largely pacifists, but he fails to see the magnificent power that the airbenders do hold, spiritual wisdom and mastery of the self and contentment and joy and harmony and a deep understanding of the world that a man like ozai could never obtain. to kill ozai would ratify ozai’s worldview that power as he defines it is the most important pursuit in the world and the only way to assert one's right to be in the world is to be cruel and violent like him. i think to ozai, becoming powerless might be worse than being dead. he wants power, or he wants death, and aang gives him neither. it upends everything he believed in. aang, the avatar, but more importantly, the last airbender, armed by his past lives' power and his people's love and the spirit world's blessing and the lion turtle's omniscience (and toph's mastery of true sight through neutral jing), ends the war 100 years to the day after the air nomad genocide, in the way that his people taught him, with power that goes beyond force and violence, with spiritual wisdom, with an incorruptible soul, with mercy -- mercy that is not weakness, mercy that brings justice.

#they just don't make kids cartoons like they used to!!!!#also zuko said 'love and peace' in his coronation speech. i am squinting at bryan and mike. is that what it think it is #atla #aang #meta

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