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twistiraki · 9 months

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🎀Headcanons how Twisted Wonderland boys met you and what kind of family you'd have 🎀 Scarabia and Pomefiore

‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗ TᗯIᔕTEᗪ ᗯOᑎᗪEᖇᒪᗩᑎᗪ Characters Kalim, Jamil, Vil, Rook, Epel x F!Reader Warnings none ‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗

🦦Kalim Al-Asim

Y/n’s got introduced by Kalim's father as a suitable marriage candidate due to her wealthy family background, Y/n and Kalim began their relationship as friends. However, as they spent more time together, they realized their connection ran much deeper. Kalim's cheerful nature complemented Y/n's intelligence, and she completed him in ways he never expected. They fell in love for who they truly were, appreciating each other's dreams and ambitions, forming a strong and loving partnership.

Y/n and Kalim have a bustling and joyful household with currently five children. They are blessed with three boys named Wasim, Omar, and Amir, and two girls named Laiha and Almira . Currently, Y/n is pregnant with twin girls, and the family eagerly awaits their arrival. Kalim's genuinely friendly and cheerful nature makes him the perfect father, always ready to play with his kids and make them smile. Despite his occasional clumsiness, he is a loving and supportive parent. The family enjoys many joyous moments together, and Kalim encourages his children to pursue their passions, just as Y/n supports him in his role as the head of the household.

🐍Jamil Viper

Y/n and Jamil met at a lively party. A moment of frustration led to a one-night stand, but little did they know it was the spark that ignited in something more. They might not have been looking for a relationship, but fate had other plans.Y/n was pregnant. As they embraced parenthood, they discovered their connection. With each passing day, their hearts danced to the rhythm of love, and now, their little family was the most beautiful melody in their lives.

Jamil and Y/n have one bright and talented son named Malik. Y/n is the person Jamil trusts the most, and she understands his passion for dancing and his desire to show his true self. Jamil's feelings for Y/n run deep, and though he may be good at hiding them, she can see through his façade. They are a tight-knit and loving family, cherishing the time they spend together and creating beautiful memories.

🪞Vil Schoenheit

Y/n's first impression of Vil wasn't favorable. When Y/n first delivered flowers to Vil from her flower shop, they seemed like opposites. Vil found Y/n's dungarees and mud on her face a little amusingly messy, while Y/n thought Vil was a bit too vain and egoistic.However, as they interacted more while Y/n delivered flowers to Vil from her shop, they discovered their shared traits of hard work and ambition. Their initial animosity turned into mutual respect, and they began to like each other more. Vil surprised Y/n with flowers and asked her out on a date, forming a special connection between them.

Vil and Y/n have a daughter named Annalise, who inherits her father's beauty and elegance. Y/n appreciates Vil's effort in making their home a beautiful and comfortable place. He values Annalise's opinions and takes care of her with a motherly touch. Vil's forceful nature is softened by Y/n's calming presence. They are both loving and attentive parents, doting on Annalise and supporting her dreams.

🏹Rook Hunt

Y/n noticed Rook around town and the library where she worked, and soon, she found poems expressing his admiration on her desk. While Rook's initial presence felt eerie, he opened up about his feelings for Y/n, making her curious. Amidst curious gazes and secret poems, Y/n and Rook's story unfolded in the most whimsical way. One day, Y/n found Rook standing smiling in her garden. Though she found it a tad creepy, his genuine confession of liking her melted her heart. As they spent more time together, Y/n couldn't resist the enchantment of Rook's affectionate heart, and she grew more and more fond of him.

Y/n and Rook have a dynamic family with three children – one girl and two boys. Their daughter is named Odette, reflecting the beauty and wonder that Rook is fascinated with. The two boys are named Orion and Atlas, each having their unique curiosities and interests. Rook's fascination with beauty extends to the curiosity he shares with his children, and they often explore peculiar interests together. Y/n's nurturing nature allows their family to grow and thrive. Rook is a genuine and loving father, always there for his kids and eager to encourage their passions.

🍎Epel Felmier

During a visit to Harveston, Y/n met Epel through the cousin, from the hairdresser's uncle, who was the neighbor of Epel's grandmother. When Y/n visited Harveston for a family visit, she had no idea that her heart was about to take a wild adventure. She met Epel, who was eager to show her around the town. But as soon as he laid eyes on Y/n, he was smitten! Attempting to be cool and flirty, Epel's accent slipped, revealing his true, country self. Y/n couldn't help but giggle, and her laughter became music to his ears. Their picnic in the apple garden became a delightful chapter in their story of sweet, countryside romance.

Epel and Y/n have two wild and energetic boys named Wiliam and Brody. Y/n appreciates Epel's dainty charm and his desire to be more manly. She encourages him to express himself freely and supports him in solving issues head-on. As parents, they embrace the challenges and joys of raising their boys. Epel's competitive spirit is balanced by Y/n's patience, creating a harmonious family environment where love and laughter abound.

You can find the other parts here! Hearstlabyul Savanaclaw/Octavinelle Scarabia/Pomefiore (You are here) Ignihyde/Diasomnia

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a-person-on-earth · 2 months

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Dr. Omar Suleiman on X: "59 years ago today, #MalcolmX (El Hajj Malik El Shabazz) was martyred. Here he is in Gaza 60 years ago where he stood in solidarity with the Palestinians and wrote in opposition to the Zionist project. Before genocide, it was apartheid. And truth tellers were already speaking.… https://t.co/5EOltH5zRv" / X

#palestine #israel #gaza #humanity #malcolm x #history

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louisxomar · 3 years

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hiii its the first time i use tumblr and i don’t really know how to use it lmao, I’m Ali , 19yo from Italy. my pronouns are she/her

I’m a one direction fan in Louis lane, I’m a no stunt larrie and neutral in ziam, i stan 1D as solo artists, Taylor Swift, Olivia Rodrigo, Omar Rudberg and Edvin Ryding

help me to find new moots💗

#louis and harry #louis tomlinson #one direction #liam payne #niall horan #zayn malik #larry stylinson #taylor swift #olivia rodrigo #young royals #edvin ryding #omar rudberg #wilhelm x simon #ziam mayne

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motionoftheocean · 4 years

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Every single time Malik popped up on my screen

#elite #elite3 #nadia x guzman #omar x ander #season three #malik #elite spoilers

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intomusings · 3 years

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﹒﹒ male names masterlist !

in honor of my third milestone on here ( thank you sm ) , i’ve decided to release a master list of 400+male names i personally love and think could be used more in the community . this was also requested by a few anons and names will be added to the list frequently . the names are sorted by first letter but not alphabetically within each letter category . if you found this useful , feel free to like or reblog to spread this !

A : alston, ander, adamo, alex, austen, ace, arian, adrian, atlas, augustus, axel, archer, angel, archie, aaron, abel, asher, amir, adriel, andrew, ace, alejandro, arlo, adonis, atticus, abram, ambrose.

B : bryce, bryson, benji, bellamy, banks, bear, beau, bentley, barrett, brody, brayden, bennett, braxton, bowen, briggs, baker, bruce, benson, bristol, boston, brycen, bryant, brock, brendan, bruno, byron, braden, bronson, braeson.

C : colton, cartier, cyrus, caleb, carter, cedric, carson, cohen, calvin, callum, casper, caspius, chase, cole, connor, camden, colt, caden, cash, crew, chance, clayton, cruz, cairo, corbin, colson, cesar, clark.

D : damon, damien, darren, dylan, dominic, declan, dean, dario, drew, dimitri, dakota, dawson, daxton, dante, desmond, denver, dax, deacon, drake, derrick, darius, duke, deandre, dash, dilan, dayton, duncan, dior.

E : eduardo, edward, elias, emilien, evan, easton, everett, emmett, enzo, ezra, elliot, emmanuel, ezekial, elias, emerson, eric, emory, edwin, elian, esteban, edison, emir, everest, eliseo, everley.

F : florencio, flynn, fabio, forester, francis, flynn, fallon, finn, finnick, felix, fernando, finnegan, fabian, ford, forbes, fletcher, fisher, fox, fitz, flint, fulton.

G : giovanni, gage, gomez, grayson, griffin, grant, graham, gavin, grant, gianni, gunner, gideon, gregory, grey, gustavo, guillermo, gentry, gadiel, gabriel.

H : halton, herman, holden, hayes, hudson, hayden, harrison, harlow, harvey, hugo, hank, henley, holland, hamza, hugh, houston, hakeem.

I : isaac, icarius, idris, ian, ivan, isaiah, ismael, ilan, irvin, iain.

J : julian, juniper, joao, joaquim, jordan, jaxton, joshua, josiah, javier, jayden, justin, jonah, jace, jasper, jay, jj, jackson, jeremiah, judah, joel, jensen, jaylen, jonas, jamal.

K : kai, kolton, kaleb, klaus, kyrie, kingston, kayden, king, kobe, knox, kyler, kaden, khalil, kane, killian, keegan, kian, kamden, kieran, keanu, kyland, kareem, kasen,

L : liam, lukas, logan, lucien, lawrence, leo, leighton, leon, lindell, lamar, latrell, larson, lance, levi, luke, landon, luca, lincoln, landon, lorenzo, london, lennox, leonel, lawson, luciano, layton, lux, leroy, lamar.

M : micaiah, mateo, marcell, manny, mac, malcolm, mckay, meechie, matias, mason, maverick, mitch, murphy, miles, malachi, maddox, marshall, malik, moses, marvin, milo.

N : noah, nicolai, nasir, nico, nash, neymar, naveen, nehemiah, nixon, nelson, nigel, niles, nolyn, namir.

O : orlando, ozzy, oliver, omar, orion, otto, odin, otis, oskar, osvaldo, owen.

P : peyton, parker, pearce, prince, preston, porter, pierre, penn, patton, paxton, paolo, pope, percy.

Q : quentin, quinn, quint, quang.

R : roman, rowan, reid, riggs, reece, rafael, ryland, roland, ronan, rhett, rhys, rory, rainer, roscoe, rocco, ryder, ryker, remington, russell, romeo, raiden, ruben, ridge, rex, rudy, remy.

S : sawyer, spencer, salem, salvatore, stefan, samson, sebastian, samuel, santiago, silas, sutton, sterling, sully, sergio, seth, santino, santibel, soren, saint, samir, saul, sal, santos, slater, santino.

T : tyson, tyrin, taylor, teagan, tobias, troye, tristan, tucker, theo, torrento, tanner, travis, tripp, trenton, trey, tomas, talon, thad, terrance, teddy.

U : uriel, ulysesses, umar, urbane, uri, ursel, usher.

V : valencio, victor, valence, valentino, vance, victor, vaughn, vincent, virgil, vernon, vander, vito, vero, villard.

W : wick, walker, weston, wyatt, wolfgang, wells, wilder, wesley, walter, warren, wade, winston, watson, wiley, waylen.

X : xavier, xander, xane, xavion, xavi, xiomar, xackery, xan.

Y : yosef, yosan, york, yasir, yoel, yuri, yannis.

Z : zane, zakhar, zavier, zion, zahir, zev, zeus, zacharias.

#male name masterlist #male names #writing help #name help #rpt #rph #m:masterlist #resources

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xadoheandterra · 2 years

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Series: The Heir, The Reader, and Clay

Title: Run It Again Chapters: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX | X | XI | XII | XIII | XIV | XV | XVI | XVII | XVIII | XIX Enabler: @kingbob2-0 Beta: @claire-the-queer-dragon Characters: Kadar al-Sayf, Altair ibn La’Ahad Pairings: Altair/Malik Tags: Isu Fuckery, Ghosts, Mild Horror Tropes, Baby Badasses, Scholars Are Secretly Their Own Cult, Don’t Fuck With Scholars, Mistakes and Consequences Summary: They hadn’t found an answer yet, and Layla was impatient despite the promise of the Grey being timeless in its nature. She didn’t want to have to search for an answer that might never come–so she made another suggestion. Why not just change it? Why not counter the Isu influence on the Pieces of Eden where it counted, and counter what Juno inevitably did to the Eye in the Grand Temple?

It was all the push that Desmond needed to let himself be just that bit more selfish. So selfish he chose to be, and there was one moment where the Isu’s hold on the Pieces of Eden had a profound effect–the Levantine Brotherhood. Altair Ibn La’Ahad. Al Mualim. There was just one problem–Desmond was eight, a child, and didn’t remember dying.

Layla at least had his back, even if she was just a bit fashionably late.

The knife slipped from his fingers, sweat-soaked and slick and they trembled as he stared near unseeing at the bloated shape in front of him. It wasn't his first kill, far from his first kill, but there was a profoundness to this moment. The breath in his lungs stilled as he looked at the face slack with death; he looked at the still imagery and could see--movement, from his peripheral. A shape, shifted and paced.

A whisper, "Why?" against the back of his neck and Kadar for a moment couldn't breathe. He couldn't breathe; why was this so much more? His head throbbed, and Kadar placed a hand to his temple as he grimaced--Jamal touched his elbow, a gentle tug and a reminder both and Kadar shifted away from the cooling corpse and allowed the younger boy to drag him from the room with a soft nudge.

"Why did you do this?!" the words were a wailed shout; they echoed around Kadar and with a grunt Kadar pressed his fingers tight to his head and tried to fight back the headache that threatened him from within. Now was not the time for this, whatever this was. He needed to get out--he needed to leave--Jamal tugged insistently at his elbow and he followed, a wordless grimace across his face. He could barely see where his feet took him--could barely think beyond the ache behind his eyes.

Jamal slowed, hand tight against Kadar's elbow and the only sense to ground him as his head swam and, "Why did you do this?!" was hissed into his ear, hot breath against the nape of his neck, and a chilled touch down the back of his spine. He could faintly tell Jamal spoke to someone--

("Is he okay?" Numair asked, eyes a furtive glance to Kadar whose pupils were dilated differently, a vaguely concussed look across his face.

"No," Jamal pressed his lips together and shook his head. "He's been like this after he stabbed Abu'l.")

--but Kadar could not make out the words in comparison to the wail in his ear and things yelled at his face. Abui'l made a ghastly figure as he danced around in and out of Kadar's vision with erratic movement. His blood poured down his front from his neck which existed as nothing more than the gaped wound Kadar had left in him. His lips were painted red, and it stained his teeth when he grinned and grimaced in Kadar's direction. Kadar had the vague sense of saying something--

("He's speaking nonsense," Omar hissed, but moved forward when Numair shoved him.

"We will have to address it later," Numair ground back. "Did you get that boy somewhere safe?"

Omar huffed and raised his nose to the air with a short, "Of course I did.")

--but the next moment the words left him as Abu'l ducked in forward and then low so that Kadar's half-hung head as he listed sideways into Jamal was given full glance of the stab wound in Abu'l's neck. Red, red, red teeth widened in his face and Kadar fumbled back with a shout; he barely registered being grabbed by both arms and some distanced shouting--

("Hold him steady!" Numair grunted.

"I am trying!" Omar ground out.

"We need to go, now!" Jamal shouted, tugged at both of their sleeves, and they began a shuffled hurried struggle forward with Kadar held aloft between them on drunken feet.)

--and all Kadar got were fragmented sentences that made little context rushed together, all from a should-be-dead man while his vision whited out, blacked at the edges, and swam all at once.

"Look at me!" Abu'l howled, a dramatic twist as Kadar nearly fumbled out of the grip on his arms.

"Vengeance?! Is this all for petty vengeance?!" red blood dripped onto Kadar's hands as fingers grasped at his cheeks and pulled.

"You are the thief! Not me! Not me!" Abu'l spun out of his sight as night air hit Kadar in the face; the coldness refreshed him, eased a bit of the pain behind his eyes. He listed, blinked slow and for a moment lost himself--

("Fuck, hold!" Omar grunted.

"I'm holding, I'm holding," Numair growled back. "Jamal what is it?!"

Jamal looked down at the feather in their hand, stained red with blood, and then back to the twins. "Get out of the city. I will meet you outside the gates."

There was a moment as the twins gaped, as Kadar swayed in their grasp, and then together they said, "What?! No! Jamal! Jamal!" but Jamal had already turned and darted into the shadows of the night, and with Kadar in their arms they could not follow.)

--and then Abu'l was there, arms cradled around him as he pressed Kadar's face into the fat of his belly, a soft croon from his voice as he whispered, "Oh, little abomination. We are not so different...." and Kadar wanted to be sick. Blissfully, thankfully, he passed out not a second later to one last wailed, "Why?!" as the ghastly visage pulled at his hair and howled and screamed bloody murder at him.

Omar and Numair grunted the minute Kadar went fully limp in their arms. For several minutes now the older teen had dragged behind, feet a stumbled mess that would catch on loose stone as they worked their way through the shadows with there mostly incoherent, nonsense-mumbling leader. With the sudden increase of Kadar's weight Omar and Numair struggled for half-a-second, before the twins were able to shove Kadar against a wall and let him slump over. Omar grimaced; Numair turned from Kadar in thought.

"This just got harder."

"No shit."

For a moment both boys exchanged a glance, mirrored reflections of each other, before they looked away again and contemplated this new mess. About the only good thing happened to be the lack of an alert. Jamal had come through with the herb-riddled alcohol and so they left the guards at the Merchant Prince's palace to snore away in pure bliss. They both doubted the body of Abu'l would be found any time soon--definitely not before the sun would be up. None of the servants would want to dare enter the Master's bed chambers after all, especially not when he had clearly retired with the intent to have fun.

The boys exchanged a glance again, and then looked to Kadar, before they sighed in tune and said, "We treat him like our drunken passed out older brother?"

"What about the blood?"

"Got into a fight? Back alley brawls happen all the time and the guards don't care normally....."

"....it is a lot of blood though."

Omar crouched down, hand hovered just over where the blood had sprayed across Kadar's lightly, nothing more than a few drops. The rest of it had clearly hit the front of Kadar's shirt. The kill was not probably as clean as their mentor would have liked, given the breadth of the spray. Abu'l struggled.

"Bastard got him good," Numair pointed toward the bruised eye and Omar grimaced.

"He got the bastard good back," Omar countered and they lapsed back into silence for a moment longer before both boys straightened back up and looked to one another.

Kadar would need a change of clothes; they couldn't be certain how coherent he would be upon waking--they weren't even sure what had brought on the fit except that perhaps Abu'l was cleverer than they could give him credit and gotten Kadar with some sort of poison. If that were true neither boy could recognize it, and they learned plenty about poisons under Master Kadar from before--which meant really it had to be something rare since Master Kadar had known his stuff given that he ran the apothecary. The change of clothes was more immediate, and a wash to his face perhaps, and all that they couldn't do without their gear which was--safely stashed elsewhere.

"Remember where the packs are?"

"Of course I do."

"You get them, then."

"Why me?"

"You’re better at climbing!"

"Fine."

They split; Numair darted off into the night with a huff while Omar settled down next to Mentor Kadar. After a moment he decided perhaps he should do something to mask their presence a bit better than just sit in the open and began to drag some of the crates in the alley around to block line of sight. At least he would have a better chance of keeping hidden with those placed to build somewhat blind spots in the alley if a guard decided to check on things. With a bit more security Omar settled back next to Mentor Kadar and tapped his head once lightly against the wall. This had quickly become a nightmare--the plan, the work, everything off without a problem in sight and then this--and Omar didn't know how he felt about it all except that it was a mess and a half. Kadar was skilled, and with half-decent back up, so something like this should not have happened. Logically it made no sense. Of course, then Jamal was off doing who knows what and where and Omar pressed his hands against his cheeks with a huff and a faint growl.

"We are not doing this again," Omar mumbled to himself, glanced to Mentor Kadar, and then breathed out slow. "We aren't, Master. Although I doubt you can hear me...." Jamal had better be at that gate ready for them. Omar doubted Mentor Kadar would awaken before they got there, and he and Numair would need the help in getting the unconscious older teen situated. They needed a cart, too, now that Omar thought about it--they couldn't carry the older boy for long and there was no clear way to know how he would be once he woke up.

A cart, a horse to lead the cart, Jamal, Numair, and changes of clothes for all of them. Omar rubbed at his cheeks and puffed them out as he blew a breath of air from pursed lips. At least they would not need to be back in Damascus for a long, long while. Which was a bit of a pity because it'd been rather fun sneaking around and being one with the shadows. He liked it. He liked it a lot, and honestly, he'd miss the city and its little nuances and--and Omar tugged his knees up and buried his face in them for the moment as the thought hit him like a hammer. He was afraid.

In Jerusalem, when they first had to run all those months ago Omar had been terrified. Hidden in that old, abandoned church and felt like a nightmare; unsure of who to trust or where they could go--they were alone, the group of them. Hakim led them then, with Alem at his side, and they looked up to the older man. They all knew that he was due to go through the Ceremony, that he would be named Assassin. When Kadar came, it was relief--because Kadar meant the Demon of Masyaf was not far behind, that the Eagle was not far behind, and that meant safety. They knew between those two they would be safe and well and nothing could hurt them.

Missing an arm or not had not dulled Malik's skill; Omar had watched the man practice his blades in the early morning once. His faith--all their faith--was not at all misplaced. Malik took them under wing and taught them, readied them--furthered their training beyond what they had gotten. He was a taskmaster, a demon certainly, but they were better for it and Omar knew it. Numair knew it--they all did. Kadar was skilled, too--personally trained by the Eagle and the Demon why wouldn't he be? They were safe with him, safe in his hands as Malik sent them out to be his eyes and ears--to find the secrets that were being kept--and the secrets they had found....

Kadar was not supposed to get hurt though; not supposed to pass out. They weren't supposed to do the job of an Assassin with a group of three Novices and one not-really-a-Novice, let alone a job that was surely meant for the Eagle. This was not what they were to do. The fact that things changed so quickly, so abruptly--it terrified him. Omar was worried what Acre would bring. Omar was worried Kadar wouldn't wake. Omar was worried Jamal wouldn't return. He was afraid--so afraid--

"I'm back."

Like a switch Omar raised his head and let the worries slide back and down and away. Right now he had a job to do--get Kadar to safety--and his twin was here to help. He could deal with the rest later. He had to.

Altair stared at the gates of Damascus with a critical eye, lips pressed together as he lingered in the shadows. There were far more guards than normal posted at the entrance, and they paid far more scrutiny than typical to each person that entered. They checked for things as simple as weapons which any traveler worth their salt carried, chained anyone they remotely were suspicious of, and more than once Altair had seen a guard pull aside a person and then beat them while demanding answers just outside of view of the rest of the populace. Even the scholars crowded together outside the gate, off to the side, to not gather attention.

With a sigh, Altair turned from shadows he made his home in and crept over to the group of scholars in effort to hide himself. He was more conspicuous in white by himself, with guards on such high alert. They would see him as an Assassin within a heartbeat; even among the scholars' number Altair knew he would stand out, but he planned to keep to the back of the group and hope that worked in his favor. Altair knew he stood a good head taller than most of the monks, so he hunched himself down to be small as he inched his way toward the back of their number.

The group shifted, slightly; the scholars were aware of him, as they were any Assassin in their midst. Theirs was a mutually beneficial arrangement--trade of information for secrecy, for safety. They weren't brothers, not truly, although they had their own Scholars within Masyaf that were. The scholars in the cities were entities of their own, and their agreements far different than most allies the Brotherhood subtly entertained.

Still, when they addressed Altair, it was with silent, barely moved lips and a softly whispered, "Brother," that had Altair shift.

"You should not be here, brother," the one closest to Altair said under his breath, hands pressed together as if in prayer.

"I have business in the city," Altair said in response, turned slightly to the side as he eyed the guards with a narrowed gaze.

"One would think your business concluded," another of the scholars uttered, voice just the slightest bit sharp, "given the state of things."

Altair turned toward the man, lips pressed together as he hissed, "I have only just arrived, how could my business be concluded?" He wondered if the scholars knew of his business already and a part of him bristled at the thought.

"Calm, brother," the first said as he unfolded his hands. He pressed his fingers of one arm to the agitated scholar, hovered the fingers of his other over Altair's left hand. "It is already heated enough without infighting."

For a moment nothing, and then a softly sighed, "I apologize," came from the second scholar.

"I... also apologize," Altair's hand twitched, for half-a-second his fingers brushed the first scholar, and then he folded them in front of him as if in prayer. "Tell me, what has happened here in Damascus?"

"Hm, what indeed."

Altair's expression pinched, but he waited. The scholars would name their price for their information--they dealt in it heavily after all, and while normally they hoarded it, they would occasionally give out nuggets for a price. The prices weren't always fair, but Masyaf and the Brotherhood had their agreements with the scholars, and agreements would be honored. Altair would see to it if nothing else.

"An exchange," one scholar said, and the group murmured faintly into a soft hum of background noise. "Information for information."

Altair inclined his head. "What do you seek to know?"

The answer came quick, sharp, and without any hesitation. "Where has your Brotherhood gone?"

Altair could not hold back the reflexive flinch at the question; his eyes flashed gold, the world lit twilight with reds and blues and golds before he shook his head of it and blinked back into the sun. The question begged something deeper--where had the Brotherhood gone does not mean just Assassin's out of Masyaf. The Brotherhood was in every city. Their presence may have been rather thin in places, but it was there and it was felt. Altair breathed in slow--he needed to get in the city, to check on Kadar and the Novices. If the Brotherhood's presence was not felt here in Damascus....

"Nothing to say, brother?" one of the scholars scoffed, and Altair raised his head slightly. Each of them had eyes in his direction, although they kept their heads bowed down as if in supplication and prayer.

Altair licked his lips, turned his eyes to the side as he spoke. "I do not know as to the Brotherhood here in Damascus."

"We do not ask about just Damascus."

Altair tilted his head slightly and spoke, words slow and cautious, "I do not know the truth of things, with the Brotherhood. I am not...as trusted as I was, once. Yet even I can see the unrest within my Brothers. Shaykh al-Jabal has chosen to keep us close in the aftermath of current events."

"To clean house," one of the scholars growled.

"No," Altair's words were short, tone sharp.

"You should," another scholar said. "Clean house, that is."

The thought of betrayal struck Altair like a hammer, and he hated the idea that there could be traitors in trusted position. Yet wasn't that what Malik had proposed? Brothers who turned on Brothers? For a long moment there was silence, Altair's lips pressed together until they were pale, hands near clenched into fists as they mimicked prayer. One the brothers shifted; his clothes brushed against Altair's leg and drew his attention back. He eyed the man carefully, waited.

"Abu'l Nuquod was killed last night in his palace," the scholar said. "A blade to the neck, the perpetrator long gone by the time his guards became aware. He was meant to host a party today, a grand event in celebration."

Ice curled in Altair's veins as his breath stilled in his lungs. A blade to the neck and guards on high alert sounded like an Assassin's work. The quiet thoroughness of the job indicated someone skilled, someone prepared and ready. The victim Altair's own target--he needed in the city. He needed in the city now. For a moment Altair eyed the gate from within the scholars. He entertained the thought of his blade in hand as he cut a bloody swath through the gate and its guards--and then he turned away.

"Thank you," Altair said, and slipped from the group of scholars who murmured to themselves, there was a different way into Damascus; a bit trickier, and less safe, but given the state of things perhaps it was the better option for the moment

Quietly Altair turned down the road, slipped through the crowds until the road curved out of sight of the gate, and then began to make his way up the sloped hill and toward the wall. If his memory served there was a small space, a smuggler's entrance, hidden in the brush. It would be marked, Altair remembered, by a group of cairns that to a lesser eye looked like a series of gravestones. He spotted them rather quickly, and from there the brush that covered the wooden hatch that led down into the tunnels. The hinges creaked loudly as Altair pulled it open, but he paid that no mind and instead dropped down into darkness.

#fic: run it again #fic: the heir the reader and clay #altair ibn la'ahad #kadar al sayf #assassins creed #wip #fanfic #altmal #altmal raises baby desmond #time travel #desmond lives au

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0bianidalas · 4 years

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im downloading S3 as i post this. feel free to request whatever as long as it isnt sam*/c*rla or omar x malik bc ☠

#elite #elite spoilers #elite s3

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pooma-islam · 3 years

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This is a list of South African ulama who passed into the mercy of Allah during the past two years. The list does not differentiate between covid and non-covid deaths and is not arranged in any specific seqùence. It also has names of sulaha who were held in high esteem by the ulama.

1. Moulana Yusuf Tootla, Stanger

2. Moulana Haroon Abbasomar, Isipingo

3. Moulana Shabbier Kazi, Durban

4. Moulana Nazeem Hunter, Isipingo

5. Moulana Sulaiman Goga, Durban

6. Mufti Hashim Bhoja, Benoni

7. Mufti Yaqoob Minty, Klerksdorp

8. Moulana Umar Bismillah, Azaadville

9. Moulana Ahmad Jassat, Azaadville

10. Moulana Yusuf Pandor, Hazeldene

11. Moulana Moosa Pandor, Lenasia

12. Hafiz Naeem Jeebhai, Laudium

13. Hafiz Doctor Hansa, Ladysmith

14. Haji Ghulam Muhammed Bellim, Baberton (Khalifa of Hazrat Moulana Abdul Hafeez Makki ra)

15. Moulana Rashid Karolia, Greenside

16. Moulana Hammad Modise, Mobapane

17. Moulana Ilyaas bin Moulana Moosa Samrodi, Polokwane

18. Moulana Ismail Patel (Paryeji), Polokwane

19. Moulana Hanif Pandor, Stanger

20. Moulana Sadeck Patel (Manjra), Crosby

21. Moulana Dawood Padia, Stanger

22. Moulana Nazeer Lateef, Ustaadh Darul Uloom Azaadville

23. Moulana Ismail Salejee, Isipingo

24. Moulana Muhammed Iqbal Patel (Pretoria)

25. Moulana Muhammed Haneef Jeebhai (Newton)

26. Moulana Yusuf, Marble Hall

27. Hafiz Sulaiman Essack (Lenasia)

28. Shaikh Siraj Hendriks (Cape town)

29. Moulana Muhammed Monia (Zeerust)

30. Moulana Muhammed Naby (Durban)

31. Qari Asadullah Nicobary (Roshnee)

32. Hafiz Rashid Omar, Durban

33. Moulana Muhammed Mehtar, Durban

34. Hafiz Jeebhai, Benoni

35. Moulana Nazeem Bloemberg, Cape Town

36. Moulana Ashraf Abrahams, Cape Town

37. Moulana Marwaan (Cape Town, old jamaat worker)

38. Sheikh Ebrahim Abrahams Rooibaard (Cape Town)

39. Moulana Rashaad Lakay (Cape Town)

40. Moulana M. Tayyib Allie (father of Ml. Muaath Allie) Cape Town

41. Moulana Toyer Leak (Cape Town)

42. Molana Noor ud Deen, Darul uloom Zakariya

43. Moulana Abu Bakr Siddiq Chetty, Nelspruit

44. Ml Iyaas Jogiat, Azaadville.

45. Ml Abu Bakr Nanabhai, Warrenton

46. Hafez Mohammed Hoosen Kathrada formerly of Nelspruit

47. Moulana Shaukat, Grahamstown

48. Moulana Khalid Desai, Port Elizabeth

49. Moulana Ismail Kathrada, Vryheid

50. Moulana Ismail Allie, Cape Town (Qasimul Uloom)

51. Haji Abdul Kareem Davids, Cape Town

52. Moulana Abdul Raheem Khan, Durban

53. Moulana Saleem Hoosen, Newcastle

54. Moulana Abdur Rahman Sirkhot, Pietermaritzburg

55. Moulana Ziyaad Bikhoo, Lenasia

56. Hajee Muhammad Rangila (Jhb Marjaz)

57. Moulana Ghosain Rhoda, Cape Town

58. Shaikh Musa Titus, Cape Town

59. Moulana Abdullah Nana, Lenasia

60. Moulana M. Salim Mangera, Bloemfontein

61. Moulana Abdul Malik Fanie, Cape Town

62. Moulana Imdaadullah Kathrada, Vryheid

63. Moulana Ismail Mayet, Springs

64. Haji Idrees Hansa, Durban

65. Mufti Taha Karaan, Cape Town

66. Moulana Dawood Asmall, Durban

67. Moulana Ismail Norton, Cape Town

68. Moulana Riedwaan Hassan, Newlands, Jhb

69. Moulana Hashim Moosa Jibhai, Lenasia

70. Moulana Yunus Kosadia, Dundee

71. Moulana Ibrahim Bhamjee, Lenasia

72. Moulana Alaauddeen, Darul Uloom Zakaria

73. Moulana Ismail Ibrahim, Lenasia

74. Mufti Ebrahim Desai, Sherwood, Durban

75. Moulana Farouk Rylands, Cape Town

76. Moulana Ahmed Mia Loonat, Crosby

77. Shaikh Fuad Gabier, Cape Town

78. Moulana Yaqoob Sidat, Harding

79. Moulana M. Yusuf Panchbhaya, Koster

80. Moulana Zahed Motala, Polokwane

81. Moulana Suleman Ghareya, Burgersfort

82. Goolam Hussain Dadabhai (Ameer Sahib), Johannesburg

83. Moulana Yunus Daya, Marlboro

May Allah bless all of them with His forgiveness, mercy and the loftiest ranks in aakhirat. May Allah Ta'aala bless the rest of us, our spouses, children, siblings, friends and fellow ummatis with 'aafiyah. May Allah protect our ulama Aameen.

May Allah reward the ulama who assisted in the compilation of this list. Aameen

💎 Muslim Mayet Notifications

1)This is a reminder for us all

2)One does not have to know the Marhooms

3)This notification gives us the reader of this Marhoom notice to be able to read 3 x Kuls for the Marhoom

4)This also gives us opportunity to get closer to Allah(S.W.T)and also elevate our status in the eyes of Allah(S.W.T)

5)We don't know if the Marhoom has anyone or family to pray for them or not..

(This is not important we all one Ummah)

6)Who knows

*It could be your prayers that Allah accepts for the Marhoom*

7)Who knows maybe your Duas may get the Marhoom entry to Jannah Aameen

8)We offer prayers for the Marhoom only for the pleasure of Allah only Aameen

Let us not ignore these Mayet notifications.

For one day soon our names will be appearing on this very Same Mayet notifications list.

Remember we all worried about this Duniya n our Retirement on earth..

What about our retirement in the Akhirah.

Aameen Rab bul Alameen.

Ya Allah guide me 1st and everyone else to your guidance and goodness Aameen Rab bul Alameen.

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edenroc · 3 years

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➶ anonymous is wondering... who would you like to see

➶ anonymous is wondering... mw?

➶ anonymous is wondering... hiya im a little stuck on an fc so mwm?

➶ anonymous is wondering... mwf? :]

here we go ... check the source link for more !

jaden smith, roh jisun, zhong feifei, hwang yeji, lee saerom, bretman rock, bestdressed, edie liberty rose, milktpapi, beabadoobee, lisa onuoha, omar apollo, bbyambi, yoo jimin (karina), nxshaya, tong___tang (lee hongchang), eliasriadi, aminé, bella michelle, aj clementine, han hyunmin, lame.cobain, ava tocloo, naswyn, sza, adut akech, scarfxce.xo (nico), ebby brown, katelyn sade, sabs0ul, imaam hammam, park jinyoung, nam joohyuk, aron piper, ashely moore, jakemarcelo12, olibrom, lil nas x, queenpoko, christina nadin, aj saudin, memu conteh, naressa valdez, fuhzz, maria isabel, curlyfrysfeed, kiana lede, moon gayoung, lee hangyul, nadine lustre, zayn malik & hwiyoung (sf9) !

#twitter rp #mw

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akhielim482 · 3 years

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How To Play (and Win) at 적토마게임 #1649

Therefore, players get 1 to 2 for the numbers 4 and 10, 2 to 3 for the numbers 5 and 9, and 5 to 6 for the numbers 6 and 8. A 5% commission (vigorish, vig, juice) is charged up front on the possible winning amount. The description included the house pockets, "There are exactly two slots reserved for the bank, whence it derives its sole mathematical advantage." Although in hazard the dice shooter may choose any number from five to nine to be his main number, de Marigny simplified the game such that the main number is always seven, which is the mathematically optimal choice. In the 2011 film Fast Five, Don Omar and Tego Calderón play roulette and each bet their millions on red or black.

Each suit contained ten “spot” cards (cards identified by the number of suit symbols or “pips” they show) and three “court” cards named malik (King), nā’ib malik (Viceroy or Deputy King), and thānī nā’ib (Second or Under-Deputy). The city of Macau is the only Chinese territory where it is legal to gamble in a casino... and it also happens to be the world's largest gambling city. A mix of Latin and Germanic suits developed into the well-known French-suited deck now seen globally. French decks come in a variety of patterns and deck sizes. The 52-card deck is the most popular deck and includes 13 ranks of each suit with reversible "court" or face cards. Each suit includes an ace, depicting a single symbol of its suit, a king, queen, and jack, each depicted with a symbol of their suit; and ranks two through ten, with each card depicting that number of pips of its suit. As well as these 52 cards, commercial packs often include between one and six jokers, most often two.

By 2003 a particular type of poker known as Texas Hold 'Em emerged as the game of choice. http://edition.cnn.com/search/?text=카지노사이트 If this is followed by a win, the next bet would be 1 units. From this it was a very short step to betting on the outcome of the throws. On the long term means that after N games a seeded number should be hitten k times, where k=N/38±x (k=N/37±x in Europe).

In either case, all single or multi-roll proposition bets may be placed in either of the two rounds. If the jackpot payoffs are different, you can calculate the expectation from the following formula:--where * denotes multiplication, JP is the size of the jackpot, and f(x,y) is equal to the smaller of x and y if there is a cap on the straight flush payout or equal to x if there is no cap.stick (now clubs) can be associated with Fire, Creativity, Work, Projects, Sexuality, Networking Social Milieus. Only gambling site that scored top marks have made our list, so when you choose to play with one of our picks, you know you’re choosing a place you can truly trust.Caribbean Stud is a high stakes game, and regular gamblers like to know they are playing quality games at quality sites.

If a player wishes to change shooting hands, they may set the dice on the table, let go, then take them with the other hand. A working bet is a live bet. Bets may also be on the board, but not in play and therefore not working. Pass line and come bets are always working meaning the chips are in play and the player is therefore wagering live money. 안전한놀이터주소 The Hydro-electric Power Plant at Rue des Cristalleries (1927) A pachinko machine resembles a vertical pinball machine but is different from Western pinball in several ways.

So the casinos, then hired private investigators to frustrate advantage players in their winning attempts. The wagers are made in cash, never in chips, and are usually thrown down onto the ground or floor by the players.This is because you then have a higher than average chance with a ten-valued card on one or both of the two new hands created. In the 2000s, Alberta reallocated some of its VLTs to increase the number allowed at specific sites, in effect reducing the total number of sites in operation.

Let's get started with a little more background information to help you decide if casino gambling is right for you. Individual casinos (and sometimes tables within a casino) vary greatly in the maximum odds they offer, from single or double odds (one or two times the pass line bet) up to 100x or even unlimited odds.Nearly 40 percent of the total tax revenue in the state of Nevada comes from gambling. After the payout mode has ended, the pachinko machine may do one of two things.

As in Louisiana, the games in Montana are not technically part of its lottery. Historians think it all started with an old British dice game called Hazard (such a better name).Bookmakers ordinarily accept bets on the outcome of what is regarded as an uneven match by requiring the side more likely to win to score more than a simple majority of points; this procedure is known as setting a “point spread.” If you’ve heard whispers of the MIT Blackjack Team and want to find out more (and see one of the best gambling-themed movies of all time), start off with 21.

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ghostcultmagazine · 3 years

Video

youtube

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motionoftheocean · 4 years

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Malik every damn time he saw Omar at the club

#elite #elite3 #omar x ander #malik #i did not appreciate this

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xadoheandterra · 3 years

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Series: The Heir, The Reader, and Clay

Title: Run It Again Fandom: Assassin’s Creed Characters: Desmond Miles, Malik al-Sayf, Kadar al-Sayf, Faheem al-Sayf Pairings: Altair/Malik Chapters: I | II | III | IV | V | VI | VII | VIII | IX | X | XI | XII | XIII | XIV | XV | XVI | XVII | XVIII Enabler: @kingbob2-0 @claire-the-dyke-dragon Tags: Time Travel, Dad Malik, Desmond Raised By Others, De-Aged Desmond, OC’s Galore, Faheem Is An Asshole, Kadar Is Best Enabler, Feels, Emotional Trauma and Implied Abuse Summary: They hadn’t found an answer yet, and Layla was impatient despite the promise of the Grey being timeless in its nature. She didn’t want to have to search for an answer that might never come–so she made another suggestion. Why not just change it? Why not counter the Isu influence on the Pieces of Eden where it counted, and counter what Juno inevitably did to the Eye in the Grand Temple?

Layla at least had his back, even if she was just a bit fashionably late.

Malik scrubbed a hand over his face as he stared down at the work in progress map of the city. The road structure was there, and Malik was fairly certain the city walls were marked out properly on the map as well, but something about it looked off and he couldn't determine what. Perhaps it was just because he hadn't put in the major structures yet that the roads looked strange. Malik was fairly certain he had the calculations for the map correct, that everything was as proportionate as he wanted it to be. Malik leaned away from the map and looked over the workroom; he needed a break. Between giving the Novices directions, going over progress with Kadar, working on maps that he'd been commissioned to make, and getting accounts from each of Kadar al-Nasri's Novices Malik felt stretched thin.

It took a week, settling all of the Novices into place with Kadar acting as his second and pseudo-Field Assassin mentor. During that week Malik worked with Omar and Numair to get a clearer understanding of the situation with the Informants in the city. All of this was broken up with needing to care for Desmond, who was frequently around either Kadar as he trained the Novices, or shadowing Malik as he worked, and just as often fell into fits of tears that Malik had no clear indication as to why. He weathered through it as best he could though; supportive and calm whenever Desmond had his emotional fits. He wished he could do more, but Desmond was surprisingly rather closed lipped about what bothered him.

If Malik's calculations were right Al Mualim should have sent an Assassin along to help the Bureau and potentially take a few of the Novices off of Malik's hands. After the first night he'd sent a short missive by messenger bird to indicate that the Novices were alive and well, and that an account would follow--which he'd then sent by courier once he'd gathered all the information be could between Hakim, Omar, Numair, Alem and Jamal. Malik had made clear that he wished to keep at the least Hakim here in the Bureau.

"Jawad!" Malik turned, left the map on the desk, and slipped through the side door into the more personal rooms and backspace of the shop as he called out for Jawad. The Novice looked up from where he was working with Desmond on the boys letters and then promptly dipped his head toward Malik.

"Dai," Jawad said.

"Man the front of the Bureau," Malik gestured behind him, and quickly Jawad got to his feet and shuffled out to the main space. "And keep an eye out for a Field Brother!"

"Yes, Dai!"

Malik watched as Jawad headed through the door silently for a moment and then turned toward Desmond with raised brows when the boy looked up at him and gave him a wide smile. A second later Malik smiled lightly and moved to look over Desmond's work. Desmond leaned into his side as Malik came beside him, and calmly Malik wrapped his right arm around Desmond as he stared down at the practice page.

"Your penmanship has improved," Malik noted and Desmond practically beamed in response.

"Can we practice blades?!" Desmond asked, and Malik had to withhold a snort of amusement at how utterly excited the boy was at the idea of practicing with blades. Ever since Malik had offered blade training--proper blade training--the boy had been more than eager to begin right away. Malik was inclined to jump right into things too, but he had more on his plate than just Desmond so they worked out a compromise. Desmond would get blade practice for small knives only after he did the work on his other lessons that were overseen by the Novices.

"In a bet, child," Malik said after a moment. "I am a little too stiff right now to actually teach." He watched how Desmond pouted, arms cross over his chest as he glared down at the papers.

"You bend over too much," Desmond said, words a bit sharp, and Malik grimaced. The boy was entirely right--he did bend himself over his maps for too long a period of time and he could feel the ache building in the lower part of his back. He needed to commission a carpenter for a stool to sit himself at when he needed to map, or for a better work surface that was angled so that he need not bend near as much, Malik knew.

"That is why we rest," Malik said calmly. "It is also why we stretch. Come." He gestured to the child to get up and follow, which Desmond did with a wide grin. The Bureau had a small training room set aside from the Novices to practice blade work and to stretch in. Assassin's would also use the space for preparation from time to time; Malik could remember that he would sit and meditate when he needed to before a kill in the practice room. It was a bit more practical than the open garden that was also used as the Assassin's main entrance.

Desmond sat down, and Malik sat down next to him. He waited for the boy to glance in his direction and then began to run them both through a few gentle stretches. Most of the stretches Malik did were designed to help ease up the tension in his back, and given how Desmond frequently hunched himself downward Malik figured the boy could do with a few of those stretches too. They moved swiftly on to more limbering stretches--and then Malik ended up running through his full set at some point to which Desmond thankfully didn't try and mimic but he did watch with wide eyes.

Malik thought he heard a faintly whispered, "So strong," from the wide-eyed, gaping smile across Desmond's face that had him almost preen as he worked himself up into a sweat. He had to adjust most of his stretches to accommodate the lack of his left arm; there were a few spots were he still fumbled through them since they were relatively new changes. Malik winced less and less though when he made abortive jerks with his stump, half-forgetting he had no hand to follow through.

"Can I do that some day?" Desmond asked as Malik worked through a brief cooldown, and Malik did laugh at that. He grabbed the pitcher of water in the room and poured himself a glass, set it down, and then tapped Desmond on the head.

"Some day, maybe," Malik said. "It will take years of work to get to such level, though. Dedication." Desmond nodded his head, face set into a strong sense of determination that had Malik give him a pleased smile. He brushed his fingers through Desmond's hair, and then gestured over toward the practice weapons rack. "Go, pick out one of the practice knives."

Desmond's face lit up, and Malik laughed softly to himself the way the boy raced over to the rack and began to look over each items with a critical eye. If Malik had any question as to whether Desmond had some sort of prior training, it vanished as he watched Desmond look through the practice knives and pick out one that was suited to himself. He was careful about it; checked each practice blade before he chose the one he wanted to work with. Malik finished his drink and moved to grab his own practice blade when he heard Jawad call for him.

"Wait here," Malik said, and when Desmond's face started to fall he gave the boy a small smile. "I will be right back, Desmond."

"Okay," Desmond replied and Malik strode quickly from the room.

Jawad stood just in the doorway to the Bureau, tense as he fiddled with his hands. He relaxed slightly when Malik stepped into view, and Malik felt his lips curl down. Very little he learned made Jawad nervous; the teen by far the best of his given Novices and knowledgeable to boot. Malik strode quickly to Jawad's side, hand rested upon Jawad's shoulder as he looked down with lips pressed together.

"Is everything alright?" Malik asked quietly and Jawad seemed to shake himself. He quickly bowed to Malik and uttered a short, "Dai," to which Malik patted him on the shoulder.

Jawad breathed out slowly and said, "A Master Assassin has arrived from Masyaf to see you." Malik paused, and glanced around the interior of the house that served as their Bureau. He looked back to Jawad when he saw no stranger in their midst. "He waits for you in the front."

Odd, Malik thought, that any brother would wait when obviously the one they sought was not behind the counter. The fact that Malik's top Novice stood waiting should have signified that Malik was busy, and as such any Master Assassin worth their rank would come into the house proper and settle themselves. There was space enough to hold a few Assassin's that were in the field, and pillows lined the open garden for those who didn't want to bother being in such confined quarters with others.

"Who has come to visit us?" Malik asked, lips pressed thin at the slight this 'Master Assassin' had given he and his.

Jawad ducked his head and said quickly, "Faheem Al-Sayf, Dai." Jawad winced when Malik's hand reflexively tightened at the name, and quickly Malik pulled his hand away from Jawad's shoulder with a hissed out breath.

"Desmond is in the practice room," Malik said quickly. "Go and run him through a few basic stances. Let him know I will be along as soon as I can."

"Yes, Dai." Jawad quickly darted toward the practice room, and Malik breathed out slowly to steady himself. He mentally tallied where each of his Novices were now--Kadar had taken Kalid, Makhi and Nasir to the market to drill them on blending with the crowd; they should return within the hour. Hakim and Alem were in the workroom building up a small supply of medicines for the Bureau now that they weren't an official apothecary; they'd remain out of the way for some time if Malik were to guess. Omar and Numair were assigned to Jamal for the day and should be running the boy through their Informants, practicing their free running and climbing skills after silly things like flags--they wouldn't be back until sunset at the latest. They knew were to get a few good meals in if they needed throughout the day. That left Jawad to keep an eye on Desmond in the practice room--and Malik had no idea how long that would last. Desmond was a curious and capricious child and he would bet his right arm that sooner or later the boy would come to seek him out if only for the perceived slight to handing blade practice over to Jawad.

"Fuck," Malik hissed between his teeth, then squared his shoulders and pushed open the door. Best to get this over with and get Faheem out of his Bureau before the man had any chance to interact with his Novices.

Faheem stood over one of the drying maps when Malik entered the room, bent with his hood down despite what propriety demanded. Malik kept himself rather stiff and upright as he stepped behind the counter, then cleared his throat to grab Faheem's attention. The man turned, a wide smile across his face as he flung both arms out, completely unfazed.

"Malik!" Faheem said magnanimously. He stepped up to the counter and leaned across to grasp Malik by both shoulders; Malik barely withheld the flinch in his face. He couldn't stop his left arm from jerking reflexively with the new and unwanted touch, although Faheem showed no signs of recognizing the action. "Look at you, my boy! Dai at twenty five!"

Malik wanted to frown at the action; instead he kept himself perfectly still. Such pride Faheem had for him now--where was that pride when Malik made Master Assassin alongside Altair? Of course there was none then--Altair made the rank first and was alive and well settled into it by the time Malik had achieved his own merits. That Faheem would cheer him now when Altair was dead--Malik breathed out slowly and stepped back from Faheem's grasp on his shoulders.

"Safety and peace," Malik said, words quietly slipped from him. He picked up the stone to hold his latest map in place and began to roll it up carefully one handed. "What brings you to Jerusalem, Faheem?"

Faheem laughed, but there was an edge to it that had Malik pause in his movements. "Come now, no need to be so cold, Malik. I am your father."

A pause, then, "Yes, father," Malik said and finished rolling the map up as quickly as he could. "The question still stands. For what reason have you come to Jerusalem?"

Faheem stepped away and gaily waved his hand through the air as he spoke. "Masyaf received your message and letters of account as to the nature of Kadar's Novices." His movements were quick and full of grace, but also deceptive in that he spun, shifted into a new pose or gesture at the drop of the hat. It was a technique Malik recognized; one he was not comforted to see used in front of him. Malik instead chose to focus on cleaning up his space so he did not have to see Faheem move about. "I was sent to evaluate them and return the lot to Masyaf."

"I see," Malik replied, words spoken slow. "Perhaps there is a misunderstanding, Fa--Father," Malik bit back the grimace as he fumbled his words. "I am not quite willing to relinquish these Novices just yet. There is more that they have to share as to the dealings of Kadar and the ways of the city. Such actions will only benefit the Bureau at this time. I merely aimed to inform Al Mualim of their miraculous survival--"

"Miraculous it is!" Faheem said, and his words sharpened. "Shockingly so, is it not?" The threat was not subtle; Faheem was rarely if ever subtle. He often went for the obvious and clearest path for a kill, Malik knew this well. Faheem could not wait to finish his mission and perceived duty--quick as you please and all about the finish.

"Faheem," Malik said, and the words were biting as he turned to look at his father with narrowed eyes. "I pray you do not suggest a group of young and traumatized Novices happen to have sold out Master Kadar."

"Is it so surprising?" Faheem stepped up to the counter and leaned forward; Malik forced himself to stand his ground. He was higher ranked and better skilled than his father even one handed--he had to be. "We seem to have plenty of traitors in our midst, these days. After what you wrote of Farid...."

"All the better for one of our best to watch them, then, is it not?" Malik countered.

"And watched they will be! Back at Masyaf," Faheem clapped his hands, pleased, and Malik let his frown show this time as he looked at his father and then scoffed.

"No, Faheem," and Malik spat his father's name like a curse, shoulders tensed as his hand gripped the sword hidden below the counter tight. "You would lose them on the route. None of those boys will be traveling with you. They will stay here were I can keep an eye on them." Malik narrowed his eyes when Faheem took a step back, all pleasure and politeness gone from his expression like a flash. "You will find, I am sure, that Al Mualim certainly agrees with me."

Faheem laughed, a barking and sharp sound that nearly covered up the sounds of booted feet in the garden. A half-second glance told Malik that Kadar and the Novices he'd taken to the market had returned. Malik fought the urge to curse as Faheem said loudly, "A cripple?" and could not repress the flinch at the term, or how his fingers went slack from the hilt of his sword beneath the counter. "You think the Master would trust a cripple, like you? A failure?"

"I am Dai," Malik reminded Faheem through gritted teeth.

Faheem waved his hand dismissively. "Please, son, we both know you were granted the title out of pity and not any real skill." Malik went stiff-backed immediately, teeth ground together in fury at the slight. "After all you did the Master a great boon, and the Master knows how ridiculously attached you were to Kadar." Faheem looked to Malik with a sharp smile that was cold and did not reach his eyes as he stared back. "Your brother, need I remind you, that you got killed."

Malik almost swayed from the sheer rage the curdled in his gut, hand clenched tight to his side as he said waspishly, "I did no such thing."

Faheem scoffed and leaned into Malik's space, sneer on his lips enough that Malik had to lean back and fought the urge to look away as his skin crawled with the sight. His stomach curdled--he never wanted Kadar to see this side of their father, and how his brother would see first hand what type of man Faheem could really be when he wanted to.

"You know that boy should never have been near that mission," Faheem said, words sharp. "It needed two Master Assassin's. A Novice should never have been there."

"You do not know the specifics that required Kadar," Malik ground out. "Do not speak as if you do."

"He should not have been there," Faheem snarled. "He would be alive if you had left him alone!"

Malik's gaze darted to Kadar who stood stock still in the doorway, face pale beneath his hood, and then went straight back to Faheem as he said sharply, "Be quiet--you do not know of what you speak!"

"Kadar is dead and it is your fault just like it is your fault Ketifa--"

Malik's lips were pressed thin, eyes wide with his fury as Kadar stormed forward and physically hauled Faheem back with a shout of, "Enough!" The action startled their father momentarily that when he whirled around to reprimand the fool to touch him and saw his supposedly dead son Faheem went silent. The Novices that were at Kadar's back quickly moved to Malik's side, faces stony as they looked to the Master Assassin who had so rudely spoken to one who was higher ranked. "I am alive!" Kadar said, words sharp.

"Kadar?" Faheem's words in contrast were quiet, drawn out in surprise. "My boy." He reached out a hand to touch Kadar's face and Kadar quickly slapped it away.

"I am not your anything," Kadar said, words sharp. "Now apologize to Malik."

"Kadar--" Malik started to say, but the three Novices at his sides bullied him to a stool to sit. Kalid whispered something about going to get tea and then slipped through the door before Malik could say or do anything, and Kadar shot him a glance that had him still in surprise at the sudden ferociousness in his brother.

Faheem's lips curled downward even as he said a brief, "My words were not meant to harm."

"That is a lie," Kadar snapped back and Faheem pressed his lips together but said nothing more. "Malik is Dai, and head of this Bureau. You must pay him proper respect." Malik watched as Faheem struggled against opening his mouth, but surprisingly he saw his father stay his tongue while Kadar talked. "Whether you agree or not."

The room fell into an awkward sort of silence as Kadar stared their father down, arms crossed over his chest and their father fought back the desire to speak in the presence of his 'dead' son, even if said son was reprimanding him for inappropriate behavior which was not the job of a Novice, but the job of a Dai--Malik blinked when Kalid set a warm cup into his hand and gave a tense smile.

"Thank you, Kalid," Malik said softly into the silence and drew attention back to himself.

"Jawad is keeping Des occupied," Kalid spoke softly, although with the way the rest of the people in the room were quiet it was loud enough. "He was upset at all the yelling."

"I am sure he was," Malik said softly, just a bit sadly. "Please go and let him know we are all fine. I will be along shortly for our lesson as I promised." Malik looked to Faheem who stared at Malik with narrowed eyes and sighed heavily. "I need only deal with this fool first."

"I am not a fool," Faheem said shortly.

"You are a fool to me," Malik replied sharply. "Only a fool steps into another's house to bear insult. Only a fool thinks of no consequence for his actions. Only a fool spouts such vitriol and believes themselves in the right." Kadar nodded with the words Malik said so sharply into the air. "State your business, Assassin Faheem, and be done with it."

Faheem pointed out, "You know my business."

Malik snorted, took a sip of his cup, and said a short, "That business is done. If that is all, then you may take your leave." At Faheem's raised brow he added a short, "Promptly."

"What? No offer of rest?"

"If that is all," Malik said, let the words hang, and waited. Faheem grit his teeth and Malik watched all of this, watched the way Kadar judged their father as their father struggled with a sudden impotence--with Malik not laying down and accepting the accusations in this moment as he'd done any other time Faheem deemed him in need of a reminder of his failures. Eventually Faheem sighed and explosively, but passively, responded.

"Fine. I have a contract," Faheem ground out.

"Name?" Malik questioned as he sat his cup down. He reached for the Book of Accounts from below the counter and dropped the heavy tome onto the table.

"Kasim Al-Nahdi."

Malik grabbed his brush and scrawled the name into the book. A second later he blew upon the pages and then slammed the book shut. He looked to Faheem and said, "I will bring you news no later than sunset. You may rest in the garden if you must, but no further. You are not welcome in my house."

Silently Faheem inclined his head, and with a nod Malik grabbed his tea and turned once more to head inside. At his heels followed his gaggle of novices, Kadar trailing last before they slipped inside. Malik caught sight of his brother grasping the Book of Accounts that he otherwise would have left behind the counter, and sighed. Perhaps Malik was a bit foolish in thinking that Faheem would not bother to break a sacred rule when obviously their father refused to acknowledge Malik's new station when it pleased him. Malik glanced to each of his novices, and then to Kadar.

"Go," Malik said, and shooed the boys away. "I have a little bird I need to tend to."

Desmond did not want to practice, not when the loud voices from the front were still there even if they were quieter, less invasive. It was reflex to drop into the dark spaces of the world with his eyes when someone yelled, and Desmond couldn't drag his gaze from the sight of redredredredred that slowly began to drift back toward purple and blue as the group of safetyandpeacebrotherfatherallies finally made their way back inside. With a sniffle and a rub at his eyes Desmond curled tighter into the corner, unsure of what he wanted to do and so very angry that Jawad had grabbed him when he tried to fly out of the room at the first sign of danger--Jawad was surprisingly strong and had been quick to grab Desmond before he could escape, quick to tell Desmond to wait that it would be fine--

--it wasn't because Desmond could see the way the other went from blue to purple to red and he knew those changes, he knew them intimately--William stood there and was yelling at Desmond and he didn't like it. He didn't want Malik to see that or deal with that and he was so, so terrified that he was and then Malik would be taken away and then Desmond would be taken away and punishment was going to be so much worse--

"I am going to kill him," Malik said, words short, and Desmond's gaze snapped up and he relaxed at the familiar sight of Malik's colors, the familiar safety--he blinked and the world returned to normal and his head hurt and Malik reached down and scooped him up with a tired sigh, settled Desmond onto his right hip and turned to Kadar who stood in the doorway with a fierce scowl on his face.

"Jawad, mind the front," Malik said sharply. "Do not let that man any further in. Ignore him if he speaks to you. Only get me if there is something serious; I trust you to judge appropriately."

"Yes Dai," Jawad said, and Desmond could see the way fury and coldness radiated about the teen as he turned sharply on heel and danced around Kadar who let him.

For a moment Malik stood there, Desmond in his arm, and Kadar stared at them both. Desmond leaned against Malik's shoulder and let his eyes drift shut where it wouldn't hurt too much. He whined, slightly, and Malik let out a faint hum and tried little to jostle Desmond, which he appreciated. Malik was warm and his everything was soothing and it helped that Malik was safe and William was not here and--

"Family meeting, then?" Kadar said lightly and Desmond blinked open his eyes; they were in Malik's rooms which weren't really just Malik's rooms but rather Malik and Desmond and Kadar's. Malik didn't say anything, but he must've had some sort of look as he settled down onto the bed and then settled Desmond less on his hip and more at his side. "Really, brother, it is as plain as the day that you have already adopted him."

Desmond frowned as he curled himself against Malik's side and peered at Kadar from beneath Malik's arm. Malik fussed with his hair for a moment, then grabbed the blanket and wrapped it around him while Desmond wondered who Malik had adopted. Was he going to have to leave? Did William do something? Desmond nibbled at his lip and Kadar looked right at Desmond and then smiled softly enough that Desmond felt himself relax just the littlest bit and let out a sigh.

"I have not..." Malik started, voice soft, and Kadar raised an eyebrow at him. "Desmond is not mine, Kadar," Malik said after a moment. "Neither is he Altair's," Malik said a bit more sharply and Desmond watched Kadar press his lips together, a faint frown to his face. "I have heard you, you know."

"He looks just like him," Kadar pointed out, then shook his head. "That is not the point, Malik. You are taken with him. He is yours now no matter his parentage. I can see that--the others can see it too." A moments pause, Desmond snuggled a little bit closer to Malik and watched Kadar, watched the way Kadar's face twisted with his thoughts before Kadar eventually said, "You were exactly like this when I came to the fortress for training."

Desmond blinked, slowly, curled into safety and warmth while Malik seemed to deliberate on his words. They were safe like this; the faint edge of danger finally, completely passing from Desmond's mind. Eventually Malik said a soft, "Perhaps you are not...wrong, Kadar. Yet I do not dare say so unless...."

"He's not going to reject you," Kadar pointed out. "Your a better father figure than whatever shitty person he's dealt with before now."

"Kadar...."

Desmond yawned, and said a drawn out, "Bill," because that's what everyone called his dad and they were talking about his dad, right? Malik shifted his arm so that he had a decent look to Desmond's face, and Desmond scrubbed at his eyes feeling them itch and dry. The ache to his head was lesser, now. "M'dad's name is Bill." Kadar's eyes were narrowed for a moment, and then he gave this gesture like 'see?' to Malik who huffed with his sigh and Desmond blinked up at Malik's face, a frown across his own as he asked, "He didn' do 'nothin' did he?"

Malik blinked. "Who?"

"Bill." Desmond rubbed at his eyes again. "He was yellin' at you."

For a moment Malik stared down at Desmond and Kadar's eyes went wide, and then Malik sighed and scrubbed his fingers through Desmond's hair and said a short, "That was not BIll, Desmond. That man was Faheem--my father." Desmond didn't understand; he looked like William. The colors were the same, the way they twisted around and changed that Desmond had been certain William Miles had found him--that he was going to be taken back. "He must have looked monstrous, hm?"

Desmond huffed out a, "Yeah, I guess..." and Malik hummed a response for a moment. Kadar looked completely lost, settled into the chair across from them. Desmond reached his arms out--Kadar should be cuddled up with them, instead, and he made that apparently as he flexed his fingers in Kadar's direction. Desmond wasn't quite sure how to say what he wanted anyway.

"Altair always told me Faheem looked monstrous," Malik said while Kadar got to his feet and curled up against Desmond's side. "Especially when he chose to talk to me; I take it your father is quite the same, hm?"

"Mm," Desmond yawned. "Yeah. I guess?" It was very monstrous, Desmond thought, the way the colors shifted and how they shifted in the presence of one person. William was almost always purple; he wasn't as good at putting on two faces as some of the others were. After a moment Desmond decided, "Faheem is mean."

"He is indeed," Malik murmured in agreement. Desmond drifted for a moment, curled between the two most safest people he could have found. "Bill was mean, too, wasn't he?" Malik asked. Desmond mumbled a faint reply and felt Kadar shift at him. The silence dragged on for a while longer as Desmond dozed; Malik and Kadar probably having some silent conversation--Desmond didn't care so much now that he knew the man he thought was William wasn't, and that Desmond was safe from having to go back to the Farm.

Half-asleep Desmond said a faint, "Dun wanna go back," that heavies the silence around them.

A moment later Malik asked, "Desmond?" and Desmond blinked himself back into awareness enough to get out an affirmative. "Would you like to be known as ibn Malik?"

It did not take much thought; Malik was safe and nice and while Desmond was still not certain William wouldn't find him and drag him back to the farm he liked the way Malik talked about things. Malik listened and Kadar listened and they didn't force him into anything he didn't want to do--except for writing, which was stupid, but that was normal stuff and not Assassin-stuff. Desmond could live with being forced to do normal stuff. After a moment, as Desmond felt himself drift off, he said a faint, "Okay," and thought Kadar laughed, pleased and teasing. He couldn't be certain; he rather liked being warm and safe and that not-nice-man Faheem being nowhere near.

#fanfic #fic: run it again #assassin's creed #malik al sayf #desmond miles #kadar al sayf #faheem al sayf #altmal raises baby desmond #altmal #time travel #wip #fic: the heir the reader and clay

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