#totalnerdwrites

[nilefreemans]

Thanks for the prompt! Here's one for you (whatever characters/fandom are appealing to you)

“Don’t ask me that…”

Joe/Nicky because I'm predictable feat a modern au where Joe is a psychic and Nicky is a chef

this is born from the weird mix of watching the Bear and Maggie at the same time

The restaurant has long since closed, and Joe sits at the bar, twirling his half-empty glass in his hands idly, mind distracted as his friends close up for the night.

Across from him, Andy is cleaning out the taps, wiping them clean for the night and she sighs heavily before setting down her rag and leaning against the counter, looking at Joe and placing her hand on his own. "Your thoughts are louder than your ice clinking against the glass Joe," Andy says and Joe sets down his glass and glances at Andy, apologetic. She pats his hand before going to get down the bottle of vodka and two shot glasses, filling them both. "Spill," Andy says and she gives Joe the shot. He accepts it and clinks the glass against her own before throwing it back, grimacing. Andy in turn laughs loudly. Hopefully not too loud, Joe didn't really want the reason for his thoughts being so loud to walk through the door and ask questions Joe doesn't want to ask. "Relax, Nicky is going over the new menu with Nile, they're in their own world if anything it will take both of us to drag them out of there," Andy explains and Joe relaxes just a little. "Nicky keeps asking about my vision of him," Joe says and Andy hums, encouraging him to continue. She's been his friend since Joe was a teenager and she was skeptical at first about his abilities, but she came around after Joe's vision had rescued her horse. "It wasn't a bad one though, you would have told him if it was," Andy says and Joe sighs because that's just it. Nicky had believed Joe when he explained that he was a psychic, he didn't even ask for proof or even a fortune telling for himself. He had just taken Joe's word. They became friends slowly. Nicky was working on relaunching his family's restaurant after a tragedy, and Joe was starting his own business. They had similar friends and Joe had recommended Andy to bartend after she had retired from horse competitions.

He had a few visions of Nicky in the restaurant. He had seen Nile come in before they ever met her, and he has seen the fire that had taken out half the kitchen, and Nicky collapsing during a stressful service.

But then Joe had a different vision of Nicky. He had a vision of himself with Nicky. Happy, married, with two kids and a dog and a house. The whole domestic scene had Joe reeling because he wanted it so bad he ached.

"I've never had a vision of myself before," Joe stresses to Andy after telling her the vision of his supposed future with Nicky. "And Nicky is-" "In a relationship with his job?" Andy sums up and Joe grimaces. Nicky was a good man and he was very passionate about what he did, but he often left his personal life behind on the figurative back burner so he can work on his actual back burner. "Talk to him Joe," Andy says firm but not unkind. "I can't-" Joe starts and there's a noise from the entrance to the bar and Joe startles to see Nicky there, looking at the two of them with wide eyes. Andy's eyes dart between the two of them, and she squeezes Joe's hand gently before moving away to give them space.

"What did you see in your vision Joe?" Nicky asks, voice quiet as he looks at Joe with his wide eyes that Joe can never quite guess what color they are. They go from a stormy grey to the calm colors of the sea in the morning, and right now Joe can't make out what color they are, just that their intensity is directed straight at Joe.

"Don't ask me that..." Joe says, meeting Nicky's intense stare with his own. He knows Nicky to be stubborn, this restaurant would have failed if he wasn't, but Joe can be just as stubborn. "You said you didn't want to know about visions with you in it." "But what about if it's us?" Nicky stresses, stepping forward and Joe finds that he's at a loss for words.

He never saw this coming.

#kaysanova #the old guard #joe x nicky #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #andromache the scythian #usernicolo #userlyde #my writing #totalnerdwrites #these two shows couldnt be more different so have this weird ass fusion ahjsdhjkasdhjasdjhd #sorry idk who to tag anymore #ereshai #thanks for the prompt!

[nilefreemans]

this isn't escaping my head sooooo, I'm going to write this quick snippet of a big fic idea

(kind of spoilers for the new Thor movie)

***

Nile doubts anyone else noticed in the midst of fighting all of the shadow creatures that had been terrorizing the city. Why would they when Nile had only noticed it by chance? They had a job to do afterall, protect the earth, save innocents, fight evil.

It was the job of heroes.

She had turned because a creature had slipped from her grasp and she had to give warning to Nicky who was at her back for most of the battle.

He falls to his knees.

It wasn't something unusual, all of them could only do so much, and Nicky was a human. He didn't posess some of their abilities, so Nile has seen him fall, but he was always quick to come back up.

This time, he struggled.

Shaking arms had reached out for an enchanted sword and when Nicky finally had it in his grasp, it took both hands to rise, using the sword as leverage.

Nile doesn't mention it, not until the fight is over, not until they're all back at Booker's place, celebrating their victory.

Nicky had excused himself a little while ago, saying he was tired and Nile had given him a few minutes before following him.

She hears a muffled sound from the bathroom down the hall from everyone else. At first she thinks it's someone gagging, but the sound is violent and before Nile can think she's opening the door-

And freezes at what she sees.

Nicky is bent over the sink, coughing up blookd into the white porcelean. The contrast of the red on the white is startling, but not as much as seeing Nicky out of the enchanted armor that comes with his sword.

He's terrifyingly thin, is the first thing Nile notices, her eyes going to the outline of his ribs that she can see through his shirt.

"Please, shut the door," Nicky says and he doesn't ask her to leave, so Nile closes the door behind her and walks forward. Nicky eyes her warrily, his body slumped against the sink, and he looks at her with tired, bloodshot eyes.

"You're sick," Is what Nile says and Nicky's non reaction is enough of an answer to Nile. Looking at him now that she's closer, Nile can see the paleness of Nicky's skin, a sickly palor, and the ways his hands shake just so.

"I'm dying," Nicky corrects, resigned and honest and Nile gasps, reaching out for her friend and drawing him in, knowing full well he was telling the truth. She holds his body, it's cold and thin and her hands can feel his spine and how he is unsteady.

"How-" Nile starts and Nicky pulls away, sighing. His eyes dart over to the sword that grants him his abilities. And she winces. "You're sword."

"It was not made for mortal hands," Nicky says, a pained smile on his face. "My body can't keep up. Cancer is what the doctors say, but the treatments are beyond me."

"You're dying," Nile echoes what Nicky had said earlier, tears in her eyes as her voice breaks, realizing that what she had seen earlier in battle had been Nicky's body slipping, failing.

Dying.

"Am I the only one who knows?" Nile asks, but that isn't the full question.

Does Joe know?

"Yes," Nicky confesses, and although his voice is as calm as ever, Nile can see the pain in his eyes. Shame and guilt and something so much deeper, something that makes Nile's heart ache.

"How long?" Nile asks and Nicky shakes his head, unable or unwilling to answer her question and Nile doesn't take it personally. Nicky will tell her, he will tell all of them in due time.

"I will tell the others, when I can no longer fight at your sides," Nicky says and Nile wants to argue that he's more than just someone they fight with, he's part of their family. Nicky must see her heartache in her face because he reaches out and grabs one of her hands and holds it with both of his large hands.

They're cold.

"You still have some time with me," Nicky promises. "I will not leave you without a fight."

"Just please, don't say anything, I am trying to find the time, I need to-" His voice breaks off and Nile sees his tears fill in his eyes. "I have to tell Joe first."

#the old guard #nile freeman #nicolo di genova #yusuf al kaysani #but he's only mentioned #idk some kind of superhero au? #but Nicky is like Jane kind of #oh to be dying and to hide it from your loved ones #kaysanova #joenicky #usernicolo #userlyde #idk who to tag im sorry #my fics #totalnerdwrites

[nilefreemans]

chapter five of my tog october writing challenge is up 

andromaquynh + wandering 

link

#andromaquynh #the old guard #tog #my writing #andromache the scythian #quynh #totalnerdwrites #october fic challenge

[nilefreemans]

4. Soulmates. Black and White. Kaysanova

did you say AU? because you’re getting an AU

Seeing the world in monochrome shades wasn’t a burden, not for Nicky. He didn’t have colors to distract him from anything, so Nicky focused on his work and that was enough for him. 

Nicky ignored the lonely feeling always sitting at the edge of his emotions and the longing he had to share anything of himself with another.

He was tired of being alone. 

Nicky could push it back though, he could put on the mask of being content and he would look away when other people’s happiness would be too much. 

So he lives in a world of black and white.

Nicky is at work when his world explodes with colors that he never dreamed he would ever be lucky enough to see. 

There’s a fire at a local school and Nicky is one of the first people on the scene, arriving after the firefighters. It’s a minor fire, a malfunction of the old kiln in the art department. No one had been seriously hurt, but Nicky was still there to provide any minor first aid and to make sure the people that needed to get additional medical attention would. 

The kids are younger, so their tears fall freely from their faces, they’re open with their fears in a way that no adult could ever be, and Nicky is patient with them. He has a stuffed dog in his truck, a small dalmation, black and white so he never has to imagine what colors they could be, and he would give them to anyone who found that they just needed to squeeze something soft. 

Nicky talked through the dog, asking after injuries with a goofy voice that drew laughter from tears. The last child he was with, a little boy who had scraped his knee when he had been tripped in the chaos of the fire, was finally calm enough to accept Nicky’s bandages and Nicky was seeing him off, waving his stuffed dog’s arm and telling him to be safe with Dr. Spot’s voice. 

"Does Dr. Spot have time to see another patient?” A voice asks and Nicky turns to see an attractive man with an amused smile. “I think I might have sprained something.” 

“Oh of course,” Nicky says in Dr. Spot’s voice, then winces as he clears his throat, a blush blossoming over his face, then continues in his own accented voice. “I can take a look at your wrist.” 

“I’d appreciate it.” The man sits down, on the edge of Nicky’s truck, and holds out his arm gently. Nicky takes it, his own gloved hands slowly turning the offered hand, apologizing when the man winces in pain. It was a mild strain, nothing too bad as long as the other man kept it easy, and Nicky told him so. 

“I was worried I’d have to take some time off,” The man says as he watches Nicky wrap his wrist gently with dark eyes that Nicky was trying hard not to stare at. His smile was bright as he told Nicky about the events that had transpired at the school. The man was the art teacher and had been the first to the scene, leading his students out of the room. He had hurt his wrist when they had run into a student who had slammed the door open on his unsuspecting arm. 

“You’re all set,” Nicky says, smiling. Normally he wasn’t one to talk to his adult patients, preferring to leave the ones that liked to talk to his partner Lykon, but the art teacher was a calming presence, and Nicky had fallen into the conversation easily. “I would check back in with your doctor if you have any additional problems.”

“Thank you, Dr. Spot,” The man picks up the stuffed dalmatian, shaking its paw with a serious expression. “You saved an artist’s hand, their most important tool, you're a hero.” 

“Can’t have the children go without their teacher,” Nicky says in Dr. Spot’s voice, and then after a beat the two of them burst into laughter, the art teacher bending forward as Nicky throws his head back. It’s completely ridiculous and normally Nicky would be embarrassed but it just felt so good to laugh. For a moment he forgot his loneliness. 

“I’m Joe by the way,” The man offers, extending his uninjured hand. Nicky’s so caught up in the moment that he forgets his usual rule of not having skin to skin contact with a patient and takes off his gloves to shake the other man’s hand in one fluid moment. 

Their fingers meet and Nicky gasps, tightening his grip as his vision goes from black and white to a world of colors. 

They’re beautiful. 

Nick looks down at Joe, their hands still intertwined, and watches as the man takes in his own now colorful world, his smile blinding as tears well up in his eyes. 

Joe is beautiful, Nicky thinks, the colors he can see for the first time seem pale in comparison to Joe’s unabashed joy. 

#the old guard #the old guard fic #tuseradriana #usercacau #tusermj #useremmaa #bookersebastien #coffeebeannate #usermarwan #usershan #userluca #userjilly #joenicky #kaysanova #immortal husbands #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #my fics #my writing #totalnerdwrites #prompts #filled #coffeemakesmeahappybean

[nilefreemans]

number 5 for yusufnicolo!!! so excited to read your writing again kayla 💖💖💖💖

cacau! you’re always so sweet, thank you for the prompt

They caught you when you slipped on ice and nearly fell over.

...

”Travel to the mountains they say, it will be fun they say.” Nicky mutters to himself as he carefully makes his way across the slick road to the cabin that he had rented for the next two weeks. Truthfully he was grateful for Quynh’s suggestion to get away from the city for a while. He had been stuck on his current novel for quite some time, and while his publisher wasn’t pushing him about it, they had given Nicky some very pointed hints.  So Quynh suggested a short stay in the mountain, had even booked the cabin as a gift and Nicky had gone.  The snowstorm was unexpected.  Nicky had not prepared for this weather, and his rental car simply couldn’t make it down the entire driveway without sliding and to avoid an accident Nicky had called the resort, and they said he could park the car and someone would pick it up when the storm died down. They told him that someone would come to check on him as soon as possible, so Nicky grabbed what he could and headed up the rest of the driveway to his cabin.  Very, very slowly.  Sneakers were not made for ice.  He’s keeping his head down as he holds his laptop bag against his chest, knuckles white with the effort. He’s so focused on just walking that Nicky never hears someone come up behind him until a shuffle startles him, and Nicky yelps in alarm, losing his footing as he slips and he begins to fall forward- But instead of falling headfirst into icy gravel, Nicky falls into a pair of strong arms that were connected to a very attractive stranger.  “Careful,” The handsome stranger says, smiling at Nicky. They’re so close that Nicky can see freckles on dimpled cheeks, the whole package is tied together by shinning dark eyes, curls sticking out from under a beanie, and snowflakes sprinkled on a well trim beard- “Grazi,” Nicky says, because his Nonna had taught him to be polite and Nicky really didn’t want to blurt out anything embarrassing like ‘would you like to carry me back to the cabin so I can see under your parka?’ That might be a little too forward.  “I’m Joe,” The man says after a beat and Nicky realizes with some horror that he was still holding onto the handsome stranger - Joe as it turned out - and he lets go, with wide eyes.  “Nicky,” he answers because again, Nicky was a polite human, and if Joe wasn’t so damn attractive he would find his brain and be more eloquent as well.  “Most people wear boots to the mountains,” Joe says as he pointedly looks down at Nicky’s poor choice of footwear with mirth dancing in his eyes, and Nicky snorts.  “I’ll keep that in mind for my hike tonight.” Joe catches onto Nicky’s joke and laughs, throwing his head back letting Nicky catch the glimpse of the strong line of his neck- Quynh might have also been right when she told him he needed to get laid.  “Can I help you get to your cabin?” Joe asks, offering his arm out as the male lead in a Jane Austin novel. Though the heavy look he gave Nicky as his eyes roamed up and down his body was something more appropriate to a harlequin romance novel.  Nicky takes Joe’s offered arm with his own heated look.  “I’d like that very much.” 

#usercacau #tuseradriana #useremmaa #userlyde #usershan #usernicolo #userlyra #moonlightandromache #bookersebastien #usercoffeenate #kaysanova #the old guard #nicolo di genova #yusuf al kaysani #my writing #totalnerdwrites #prompts #filled #idk who to tag anymore #yusufnicolo

[nilefreemans]

46 + yusufnicolo 🥺🥺🥺

You reach for the same bouquet in a flower shop. 

Joe had felt rushed, nearly running through the parking lot to get to the door. He managed to find his semblance of being a person who didn’t run into buildings at full sprint and was actually a functioning member of society.  When a small old woman gives him a look for running, Joe only shrugs and opens the door for her which gives him a smile in return along with a ‘what a nice young man.’ Once he’s in the flower shop though all of Joe’s plans to just come in and grab something quickly, disappears at the horrifying realization that today was Valentine's Day and that Joe would be very lucky to find even a single carnation. The whole shop was picked over, the only pieces remaining were either absurdly expensive or over the top pink and red monstrosities which would be the exact opposite of what Joe needed.  It shouldn’t be so hard to find something simple?  Wrong.  Ten minutes later found Joe at the back of the shop, the teenager at the counter had given him a few concerned glances, and had even suggested he check near the back entrance of the shop by the greenhouse. Which was where Joe was now, looking at mostly empty shelves and patches of dirt when he saw it.  A small bouquet of white and yellow flowers, in a tasteful white vase. They were perfect.  Joe reaches out to grab them only for the pot to be grabbed up by someone else. He looks up from the hand, broad and strong looking, to the owner of the said hand and in any other situation, Joe would have found the stranger handsome, would have even attempted to flirt, but instead he just groans.  “Sorry?” An accented voice asks and Joe looks up to see concerned grey-blue eyes looking at him with consideration.  “No it’s-” Joe sighs and runs a hand through his curls. He catches the stranger looking at the action, and if Joe wasn’t in a hurry he would be getting this man’s number. “My best friend had his baby a week early and it’s a little boy and his wife loves flowers, and they asked me to be the godfather and that’s amazing but I hadn’t planned on her going into labor so I didn't have a gift and-” Joe trails off, gesturing towards all the red and pink of the decor.  “Ah,” The man says, and then looks down at the flowers, before holding them out for Joe. “Your reason for flowers are much better than mine, you should take these.” He says and Joe just blinks at the man then looks down at the flowers.  “You don’t have to,” Joe says because this man had grabbed the flowers first and the fact that he was willing to give them up was incredibly kind.  “I insist,” The man says smiling and practically shoves the vase into Joe’s hand. He accepts them with a quiet thanks and the man is still smiling at him, and Joe smiles back. “I’m sure your godson will love them.” He says, and yeah Joe might just have to be late getting to the hospital because there was no way he wasn’t going to get this man’s number.  “This is going to sound forward especially after you saved me with the flowers, but would you maybe want to get coffee tomorrow?” Joe asks, looking at the stranger beneath his lashes, and giving him his most charming of smiles. “I could do coffee, but you’re paying since you owe me flowers.” The man says smirking before offering Joe his hand. “I’m Nicky.”  “Joe.” He responds, shaking Nicky’s hand. They exchange numbers and agree on a coffee shop not too far from here before Joe checks out and makes his way to the hospital to meet his godson.  He sends Nicky a picture and gets a flower emoji in response.  Joe is really looking forward to their date. 

#the old guard #joenicky #joenicky fic #kaysanova #usercacau #userlyde #usernicolo #moonlightandromache #useremmaa #userlyra #usercoffeenate #this is the sappiest thing ive ever written maybe #probably #thank you for the prompt cacau #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #au #my writting #totalnerdwrites #prompts #filled #yusufnicolo

[nilefreemans]

"I miss being in your arms" + joenicky <3

The room Joe steps into seems inhumanly large and he supposes that it would need to be, for what it was used for, for what it held- Who it held.  The room felt cold despite its warm temperature, the sterile environment, and harsh fluorescent lighting only proved that the facility was clinical in nature. Joe looks around at the equipment, understanding what little of it did beyond trapping his beloved beyond the thick pane of glass. He takes careful pictures and videos, frustrated that he can’t do more at this moment but observe and take notes. They didn’t have the resources to rescue Nicky, not today, and it made Joe feel so helpless, but he wouldn’t risk Nicky, not now when they were so close to freeing him.  “Do you have what we need Joe?” Andy’s voice crackles in his ear, the reception spotty from just how deep underground they were.  “Yeah boss,” Joe says as he goes around the last bit of machinery, taking as many pictures as he could for Booker to study, knowing the more information they had the faster they could figure out how to shut this place down safely. The faster they could get Nicky back.  “You’ve got fifteen minutes,” Andy informs him, voice gentle but firm, and Joe’s heart feels like it restricts in his chest. That wasn’t enough time -  But Nicky had already been taken from him for over a year, what’s more than a few more days?  “I’m sorry,” Andy says after a beat, understanding Joe completely, knowing how he must feel. “Tell Nicky we’re close.” Joe’s com clicks, a signal fromAndy that no one was listening in, that Joe would have some privacy.  He’s so grateful that he still has Andy for support, Joe isn’t sure where he would be if it weren’t for her unyielding strength. Andy was the one who found him after he had been forcefully separated from Nicky, she had saved his life and then promised him that she would help him find his heart, his Nicolo.  Joe goes over to the center of the room, his hand tapping against the glass in a rhythm that would seem meaningless to anyone but Nicky. From the corner of his eye, he sees a flash of movement, and his steps hurry to catch up, Joe practically runs to the edge of the room where a ladder has been set up to an observation deck, a safe way for Nicky’s captors to observe him.  He smiles as he climbs up, knowing full well that Nicky has been giving these bastards hell since day one.  When he finally is on the observation deck he can see the full expanse of Nicky’s massive prison, and he stares into the deep depths, waiting- A splash sounds and Joe looks down through the thick glass floor to see a pair of familiar sea glass eyes looking at him from below-  “Nicolo-” Joe falls to his knees, touching the thick glass, wishing he could break it so he could get Nicky free- bring Nicky home. On the other side of the glass, Nicky reaches up and mimics Joe’s position the best he can, his hand flat against the glass directly beneath Joe’s.  “I miss being in your arms-” He gasps out. Mere inches separate Joe from Nicky now, when just days ago he had almost given up hope on finding Nicky again. “Hayati-”  Nicky’s expression is pained, and he makes a sad trilling sound, unable to speak but knowing Joe would understand him. I miss you too. “Are you alright?” Joe asks because he only knows what little information they had managed to gather, that Nicky was being experimented on, that they were taking samples, and it shows. Nicky was always pale, especially when he was in the water like this, but his parlor looked sickly, and the dark bags beneath his eyes looked like bruises. Across his side his gills look red and irritated and when Joe notices that he can see Nicky’s ribs he has to look away-  A bang against the glass and Joe is brought back from his thoughts, and Nicky is giving him a small smile, offering Joe what comfort he can despite his own pain.  “I’m coming back for you,” Joe promises, his voice fierce and determined. “I’m going to bring you home Hayati.”  Joe wants to say more, he doesn’t want to leave, he wants to break through the barrier of Nicky’s tank and sink into the water just so he can hold Nicky again, but Andy’s com clicks in and she’s telling him he has to go and Joe knows that if he stays he ruins any chance they have in getting Nicky back.  They share one last moment, a shared look that whilst brief spoke more than either of them ever could. Then Nicky nods his head and dives back into the water, making it easier for Joe to leave, and he loves him so much for it, and before leaving the room Joe looks back to see Nicky close to the tank’s walls, the scales of his blue tale shimmering in the lights of the lab. He’s always been a vision in this form and Joe can’t wait to see him once more in the sea by their home, where Nicky’s colors truly shine.  Nicky crosses his heart with his hand and bows his head, a part of his native language that Joe had learned so long ago. *I love you.*  Joe signs it back before leaving the lab, knowing it was only a matter of days before Nicky was in his arms once more. 

#moonlightandromache #SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG I WAS DEALING WITH THINGS #joenicky #the old guard #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #joenicky fic #usercacau #useremmaa #usermarwan #usercoffeenate #tuseradriana #usersimo #usernicolo #usershan #userlyde #my writing #totalnerdwrites #au #mermaid au #modern au

[nilefreemans]

au in which joe takes nicky out on their first date and by the end of it he gives nicky a ride on his motorcycle 👀👀👀

Nicky shifts again in his seat, inwardly cursing at his damn nerves, and hoped that his date wouldn’t note on his behavior. This had been the first good date he’s had in years and Joe was truly amazing and Nicky had to damn his own luck from the very start. He was exhausted, having pulled a double the night before and the warm atmosphere of the restaurant was lulling him to a gentle sleep. 

In short, he kept yawning, and judging by their waiter giving him the side-eye several times he was coming off as rude. Mentally he was already preparing what he would tell Quynh when she would ask about how her set up had gone, and he could imagine her exasperated sigh followed by the ever familiar “oh Nicolo” which was her way of reminding him that he was a disaster. 

He yawns, again, and winces. 

Why did he only get four hours of sleep again? He can’t even recall what he had done the previous day to warrant such little sleep. Past Nicky was a pain in the ass and he thinks maybe he should have listened to Quynh when she had told him to catch up on his beauty rest. 

“I’m sorry,” Nicky says, when Joe stops in the middle of his tale about the time he had rescued a painting from a burning building, which was possibly one of the most interesting things Nicky has ever half-heard because of how damn tired he was, and gives him a concerned look. “I’m being rude.” 

“It’s okay,” Joe says, smiling so brightly that Nicky feels butterflies in his stomach. He was going to really miss that smile when Joe inevitably never called him again because of what a bust this first date had been. 

“I’m tired,” Nicky says instead of an actual explanation that would explain that he wasn’t normally this terrible on dates, that he could actually keep up with a conversation and the dark bags under his eyes weren’t always there. 

Fuck, he’s really going to regret this one. 

“Let’s get you home,” Joe says, instead of telling Nicky off for wasting his time, which actually shocks Nicky enough to wake himself up some. In a movement that was literally just standing up but Nicky’s sleep-deprived brain had deemed as beautiful, Joe stood from his seat, placed a generous amount of money on the table to pay for their meal, and offered Nicky his hand. 

“Ah-” Nicky stumbles, begging his brain to catch up with what was actually happening in front of him. “I walked here.” 

Smooth, Nicky.

“That’s not a problem,” Joe replies leading them out. Nicky realizes that their hands are still intwined, Joe’s hand is nice, warm witth ink staining his finger tipss. Nicky should probably let go, he doesn’t. “I always travel with a spare.” 

“A spare -” Nicky is about to ask what, but he find his answer as Joe stops them in front of a motorcycle. A very beautiful, very deadly motorcycle.

“I always cary an extra helmet in case the situation calls for me to give a beautiful man a ride home.” Joe looks at him and Nicky’s breath catches as he winks. 

“I’m not beautiful,” Nicky says dumbly. Any successful flirting from him had been abandoned before the date had even started and it seems that he wont be playing catch up anytime soon. 

“As a painter I know beauty when I see it,” Joe responds to Nicky’s blunder, as smooth as ever, and pushes the spare helmet into Nicky’s hands. “Let’s get you to bed.” 

For a moment Nicky almost repeats that he had walked to their date and was in no condition to do any sort of riding, but he keeps his mouth shut. His brain is already chasing aftter several innuendos that he was sure was all in his head anywayss, and Nicky would prefer to not embarass himself any further. He watches as Joe swings a leg over his motorcycle, straddling the seat.

Nicky is suddenly envious of a piece of machinery. 

Maybe Quynh was right when she said he really needed to get laid.

Joe kicks up the brake and balances the bike, steadying it for Nicky to get on. When Nicky does nothing but curse his very existance, Joe helpfully pats the seat behind him. 

“Hop on and hold onto my waist, I’ll go easy for your first time.” Joe is smiling again, but its more gentle than flirtatious and Nicky snaps his helmet into place and does as he’s told, relaxing with Joe’s easy demeanor. “Where to?” 

“Anywhere,” Nicky answers, before his brain catches up with him and he blushes, burying his head in Joe’s leather clad shoulder to hide his embarassment. 

Nicky realizes that if Joe were to ask he really would go anywhere with the other man. 

Joe, the angel that he is, smiles instead of laughs. “Maybe next time, lets start with the adresss to your bed.”

Nicky’s glad he has enough of a brain left to tell Joe where he lives before he holds onto Joe tightly and only screams a little as the motorcycle kicks off into traffic. 

#usercacau #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #the old guard #tusermj #HAPPY BIRTHDAY #immortal husbands #my writing #totalnerdwrites #prompts #filled #nicky is a disaster gay especially around joe #Joe exists and Nicky's brain short circuits

[nilefreemans]

for the prompts: nile & nicky playing chess, nile is obviously winning and joe finds it hilarious

asdgdsadsga I literally know nothing about chess btw

...

Joe watches from the other mood, amused, as he takes in the sight of his husband biting his lower lip in concentration. There’s a furrow in his brow that shadows his bright eyes slightly and a slight downturn to his lips. He’s not angry or frustrated, Joe would know those emotions better than anyone else, but he was very determined to win his game of chess against the newest addition to their family. 

Too bad he was clearly losing. 

Nile moves her knight, trapping Nicky’s king and essentially winning the game. She smiles up brightly at him, a little smug, but very relaxed compared to how she used to be with them their first few months together. Nile is finding her place in their family and the realization that she’s opening up to them so easily makes Joe smile warmly. He loved his new sister with his whole being, a feeling he knows Nicky shares equally.

Nicky moves one of his few pieces, being too stubborn to admit defeat early, and only snorts out a laugh at Nile’s proudly exclaimed “checkmate.” 

Joe catches Nicky’s eye as Nile talks about the food Nicky will have to make her as the result of him losing yet another bet, and winks at his husband knowingly. Nicky narrows his eyes in return, a mock scowl graces his features and Joe laughs loudly from where he’s standing in the doorway. 

“I should be fortunate that you didn’t bet away all our money again,” Joe says as he crosses the room, putting a hand on Nicky’s shoulder as he inspects the finished game board. “You keep him humble Nile, thank you.” 

“If it means I get to pick out dinner I will gladly beat Nicky at any game.” Nile’s smile is radiating, bright in a way that makes everyone want to smile as well. Nicky and Joe share in her contagious happiness, feeling a little bit lighter in her presence, feeling a little bit more hopeful. 

Andy is still mortal, Booker is still gone, and the memories of Merrick's lab still haunts their dreams. Their trauma isn’t going to go away soon, and their problems are still very much real, but they have each other. 

They can take moments like these and remember to breathe, to be human, to be a family. 

Nile helps them remember why they do what they do and Joe and the rest of his family will never stop being grateful that the universe gifted them with such a sister as loving and good as Nile.

“I will make your dinner as agreed, but I refuse to call it pizza.” Nicky exclaims over his shoulder as he makes his way to the kitchen, pausing to give Joe a quick kiss to the corner of his mouth. 

That night Joe hides his laughter behind his glass as Nicky and Nile argue over the merits of a Chicago Deep-dish Pizza, and already has requests for different toppings for the inevitable time Nicky will have to make it again. 

#tuseradriana #usercacau #usermarwan #useremmaa #tusermj #the old guard #kaysanova #nile freeman #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #my fics #totalnerdwrites #immortal husbands #prompts #filled #joenicky #the old guard fic #immortal family #joe-nicky

[nilefreemans]

for the promts thingy "i miss being in your arms" + yusufnicolo 💀

Nicolo watches. 

Nicolo watches as his beloved goes through his nightly routine. Picking out his clothing for the next day, brushing his teeth, changing into the soft pajama pants Nicolo had gotten for him years ago as a gift during a particularly cold week. 

Nicolo watches as Yusuf crawls into bed, the left side - Nicolo’s side, and hold his arms tightly around himself. Nicolo watches as Yusuf stares blankly across their dark bedroom, fighting off tears that eventually come every night since the accident.

Nicolo watches Yusuf with a broken heart because it’s the only thing he can do. 

Ghosts, if that what he was now, couldn’t touch the living, couldn’t comfort when their loved ones needed it most. It was frustrating in a way that makes Nicolo angry, but his strength was limited, so he buries it. When he’s too emotional he’ll lose time, and that means he loses time with Yusuf and he can’t stand the thought of leaving his beloved alone. 

There were no rules for his new state of existence, no amount of books or movies could have prepared him for life after death. Nicolo isn’t quite sure if he’s a ghost of himself or a ghost of Yusuf’s memory. He’s anchored to his husband in an unknown way, being only able to go where Yusuf is. Nicolo had tried to leave but found that he couldn’t. If he left Yusuf’s side he would lose himself only to blink into awareness hours later.

He’s tied to Yusuf but he can’t communicate with him, can’t make him see that Nicolo is right there. 

When Nicolo isn’t there? He’s somewhere else. Somewhere else that frightens him. It’s cold in this other place, cold and foggy and he feels as if he’s drowning in something thicker than water. The other place feels final, feels like death, so he avoids going there as much as he can. Yusuf was always his whole life, his reason for living when things were at it’s darkest. 

Lately, Nicolo has been to the other place more and more, and he fears that perhaps being with Yusuf is a dream and that his nightmare is actually his reality. 

Yusuf’s breathing hitches and Nicolo is drawn from his dark thoughts to see tears fall from Yusuf’s tired eyes in the moonlight streaming from their bedroom window. Even in his sadness, Yusuf remains beautiful and Nicolo’s heartaches. 

“Please,” Yusuf cries quietly into the dark, unaware that Nicolo can hear him. His voice is rough, thick with emotions that threaten to break him with their weight. Exhaustion paints Yusuf’s features and Nicolo is angry with himself for being the cause. 

“Come back to me.” Yusuf’s words are like a prayer, and Nicolo comes closer, no longer wanting to be apart even if his heart can not see him any longer. Nicolo could never deny Yusuf anything, even in death. 

“I miss being in your arms,” Nicolo confesses, wishing that Yusuf could hear his voice, longing for the touch of his husband’s gentle warmth once more. He’s so tired of being cold - 

“Nicolo?” Yusuf sits up suddenly and Nicolo can only stare as Yusuf’s eyes fall to his own. Staring directly at him and not through him as he has done before. “Habibi are you-”

“You can see me truly?” Nicolo whispers and steps forward, leaving no space between them. Nicolo is aware that he is crying now, matching Yusuf’s tears in full. He dares to reach out, and a sob escapes him as his fingers meet warm skin. 

He’s so cold.

“You’re-” Yusuf starts but stops, leaning in towards Nicolo’s touch, trying to calm his breathing. Finally he opens his eyes, his dark beautiful eyes that always seem to take Nicolo’s breath away, and continues. “You’re a beautiful nightmare.” 

“I fear so yes,” Nicolo whispers. His vision is getting hazy again, a warning sign that he’s about to find himself in the other place, that his time in heaven will be ripped away from him once more, because he wasn’t sure of anything of his strange death but he was sure that being with Yusuf was his paradise. 

“You need to let me go,” Nicolo says firmly when he can no longer feel Yusuf’s warmth. He’s quickly fading away and he fears that this time it might be final. “It will be okay-” 

“Never,” Yusuf answers, grabbing at Nicolo’s hand and his face falling when his hand goes straight through. Their brief moment of being able to touch is gone, and he’s fading from Nicolo’s vision. “I’ll find you Nicolo, I’m going to bring you back to me.” 

Nicolo’s final thoughts are how its strange to say that a dead man was lost. 

...

Warmth floods his body and Nicolo blinks awake to lights that are too bright and the beeping of a monitor that’s too loud. There’s something in his throat and his eyes widen in panic. 

He can’t breathe, he can’t move, it’s too bright - 

Suddenly a mop of familiar curly hair blocks the harsh lighting and a gentle touch pulls him away from his thoughts. Dark beautiful eyes stare into his own and Nicolo’s body relaxes.

He’s with Yusuf, he’s safe. 

“You’re okay,” His husband reassures, brushing a stray hair from Nicolo’s face. Nicolo leans into the warmth of Yusuf’s palm, the cold being chased away by Yusuf’s very touch. “You’re safe now.” 

Nicolo can’t speak with the tube around his throat, but the two of them never needed words to communicate. Yusuf understands his expression becasue Yusuf’s own softens, and he leans down to kiss Nicolo gently on the forehead, avoiding the deep bruises and cuts from the crash.

“I love you too.” Yusuf says, and Nicolo closes his eyes, exhaustian  taking him as he falls gently into sleep once more. Before he can slip away fully, he hears Yusuf’s voice once more. “I’ve missed having my arms around you.” 

Nicolo drifts as Yusuf watches this time. For the first time in days he doesn’t feel cold. 

#usercacau #useremmaa #tusermj #usermarwan #usershan #userluca #nicoloalkaysani #the old guard #nicolo di genova #yusuf al kaysani #kaysanova #immortal husbands #my writing #totalnerdwrites #prompts #filled #I GUESS nicky was in a crash #and they couldnt find his body #so they thought he was dead #but he was alive #aaaand he only thought he was a ghost #idk I saw a movie once #yusufnicolo

[nilefreemans]

(coffeebeannate) "Come here often?"-Kaysanova

Joe closes his eyes, inhaling the scent of Nicky, something salty and sweet with the underlining hint of wild that Joe is still intoxicated by even after centuries of living. He kisses the juncture of Nicky’s neck and collarbone, and when Nicky shivers beneath him Joe can feel his fangs lengthen in anticipation. 

“Drink habibi,” Nicky instructs, voice husky and quiet. He’s arching into Joe’s touch, naked skin hot against Joe’s icy fingers. If Joe wasn’t busy he would take a moment to draw his husband, Joe would use his charcoals to capture the way the moonlight plays against Nicky’s features, chest heaving with barely contained breaths and eyes shining bright, looking at Joe with an expression so deep and so filled with love that it leaves Joe struggling to find any words to properly describe their emotion. 

Joe grasps Nicky’s chin and tilts it so their lips can meet. Nicky’s touch feels like fire beneath Joe and they spend the next few moments kissing heavily. Eventually, they break apart and Nicky laughs when his lower lip catches on Joe’s fang. 

“You taste so good,” Joe licks the small bit of blood on Nicky’s lip, the small cut already healed, and closes his eyes, head falling forward to rest against Nicky’s own. Joe stays like that for a few moments, calming his racing heart and steadying his breathing. 

“Yusuf-” Nicky’s voice breaks the silence of the room, tilting his head to the side, exposing the strong line of his neck as silent permission for Joe to take his fill. Joe swallows thickly at the action, taking one of Nicky’s hands and interlacing their fingers, squeezing gently. 

Slowly Joe lowers his head, fangs elongated fully now. The first initial bite to break the skin is always painful despite the countless times they’ve done this, and Joe feels and hears Nicky’s answering gasp. Blood pools into Joe’s mouth at the bite and he drinks it in slowly, eyes closing at the euphoria of feeding, of finding relief from the constant hunger that plagues his existence, calming the part of himself that isn’t human. 

Nicky’s breathing steadies out as Joe takes his fill, his hand not holding onto Joe’s reaching up to idly play at the curls at the base of Joe’s neck. The venom from Joe’s fangs always left Nicky feeling languid and relaxed, eyes closing in content bliss. 

Eventually, Joe finishes, stopping right before Nicky’s heartbeat gets too slow. His mouth lingers at the bite, licking away any leftover blood and kissing the warm skin beneath. The mark will be gone in an hour, disappearing as Nicky's body heals. In the past Joe would have hurried the healing, applying a small amount of his own blood to the wound, but Nicky had told him he enjoyed having Joe’s mark on him, even briefly. 

They lay together, limbs intertwined as they both come down from their own highs. Joe gets up, smiling when Nicky pulls him back down for a brief kiss. Joe could have easily followed through and stayed in bed, content to spend the rest of the evening in Nicky’s arms, but he had found in the past that Nicky usually faired better after a little bit of care. 

Joe crosses the room to their dresser, removing the cap from Nicky’s water bottle and opening a protein bar. He goes back to Nicky’s side and Joe smiles at the gentle smile on Nicky’s face. 

“Come here often?” Joe jokes lightly as he sits on the edge of the bed, helping Nicky sit up and encouraging him to drink his water and eat half of the energy bar. Nicky moved as instructed and Joe rearranged them on the bed so that Nicky’s head was laying on his lap. Joe always had too much energy following feeding and he wouldn't find sleep till the following night. Nicky on the other hand would be lethargic for the rest of the day, staying in bed till eventually, he would grow restless enough to go for a run.

Their routine was comforting, a private moment shared regularly between the two of them, keeping them grounded, keeping them human. 

Nicky snuffles in his sleep, nosing at Joe’s stomach making him laugh softly. He grabs his phone off the nightstand and opens up a book Nile had recommended him and scrolls through while his other hand cards through Nicky’s hair softly. 

#coffeebeannate #usershan #useremmaa #usermarwan #usercacau #tuseradriana #tusermj #joenicky fic #joenicky #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #vampire!joe #nicky is a werewolf but you can't tell #he likes his hair being pet though so I guess thats there #my writing #prompts #filled #totalnerdwrites #the old guard #the old guard fic #Anonymous

[nilefreemans]

32 for andromaquynh!!!!

You wear matching masks at a masquerade party.

The flow of fabric around her is almost dizzying, the shine of delicate silks shinning off the low candlelight of the room. To the back of the room, an orchestra plays, and Quynh takes a look at her companion whose green-grey eyes watch the room behind a simple black mask as his hands play expertly at the cello. Subtly he turns his body to the left, his head tilting down and Quynh moves in that direction, understanding his single.  She sees the target easily enough, a pompous gentleman with a hunger for power that only rivals his hunger for fame. Sir Merrick was quickly abusing his power, kidnapping innocents and holding them for ransom under a different name, and he hired people to kill his competitors.  Slowly she makes her way in his direction, moving through the crowd easily, ready to make her move on the man.  The song changes to that of a more sultry dance and there’s a hand on her waist, spinning her and Quynh turns, hidden knife in her hand tucked against this stranger’s throat.  The stranger is a handsome woman, dressed in a suit with a mask that was identical to Quynh’s own, and just like Quynh had a blade to this woman’s throat, this woman had a blade to her side.  “As much as I’d love for you to kill the bastard,” The woman says quietly, with no fear of the blade at her throat as she looks at Quyng with amusement in her beautiful blue eyes.  “I’m afraid I need him alive a little longer to get the information I need to save someone who is very close to me.” The woman says and she pulls the blade away from Quynh’s side, tucking it back into her coat with clear and careful movements, showing Quynh she wasn’t a threat.  “I might not get another opportunity,” Quynh says, tucking her own knife back into the sleeve of her dress, dropping her hand to the woman’s shoulder, and letting her lead her into a dance. They’re closer to the band stage, the music covering their conversation easily, and she catches Nicolo’s eye, knowing he will step in if something goes wrong.  “I’m asking for three days,” The woman replies, dipping Quynh low and lifting her easily going back into the steps of the song. “After that, I will help you kill him.” Quynh hums in response, considering the woman’s offer. The plan for tonight had been to separate Merrick from the rest of the party and let him talk about himself long enough for Nicolo to slip away so they could make it look like Merrick suffered an unfortunate accident.   “How could I trust someone I don’t even know,” Quynh asks as she’s spun around while lifted, mirroring the couples around them.  “Andromache the Scythian,” She replies with a smile, and Quynh’s eyes widen in recognition. Andromache the Scythian is someone who had a reputation in the world of assassins.  “I assume you know my name,” Quynh says, the dance coming close to an end,  their steps slowing with the music.  “And that of your companion, my research never mentioned di Genova being able to play so beautifully,” Andromache says and Quynh smiles, stepping back as the song ends, giving a curtsey to her unexpected dance partner.  “Three days time,” Quyng reminds the woman when they part. “You’ll meet me at The Garden, and we will take care of our mutual problem together.”  “I look forward to it,” Andromache says as she takes Quynh’s hand while she bows, kissing her knuckles and looking up at Quynh through her lashes.  Andromache, Quynh thinks, is frustratingly charming. 

#usercacau #andromaquynh #moonlightcanary #usernicolo #userlyde #userbooker #usercoffeenate #useremmaa #userlyra #usershan #my writing #the old guard #andromache the scythian #quynh #assassin au #I have a whole background but this is all you get #thank you cacau #totalnerdwrites #prompts #filled #yusufnicolo

[nilefreemans]

Joe + 3 piece suit for @alkaysani

Steady hands secure a favorite pin onto his right lapel, a jeweled turtle that Nicky had gifted him long ago, and Joe places his hand over his beloved’s, intertwining their fingers as he brings Nicky’s hand to his lips for a soft kiss against pale knuckles.

“You look divine,” Nicky says smiling, his eyes traveling up and down Joe’s body in obvious approval. Joe can see a deep want in those sea green eyes he loves so much, and he knows that if he doesn’t step away now they are going to irritate Andy in making her wait. 

They move to seperate and Joe lets their hands part but stops before Nicky is fully away from him, his fingers finding the pulse of Nicky’s wrist, the steady thump of his heartbeat calming him before the mission. Nicky, never being one to deny Joe anything, allows him this moment of vulnerability, of reassurance that they were both still here, both still alive, their hearts beating in tandem as if they shared one.

“Model for me,” Nicky teases, breaking an easy smile from Joe as he puts his hand to his chin and looks Joe up and down with a mock serious expression. “Let’s see if you’re worthy of being Nile’s date.” 

“Oh is that so,” Joe huffs out a soft laugh as he turns, lingering when his back is turned to Nicky knowing where his husband’s gaze would fall, and judging by Nicky’s hitched breath he had succeeded. “I wouldn’t want to embarass Nile at her first gala.” 

“You look acceptable.” Nicky says nodding. Joe’s three piece suit had been tailored, their funds from Copley meaning every stitch was too his exact measurements. The pinstripes were subtle, catching the light as he moved, and the dark blue fabric stretched against Joe’s frame, accentuating the strength of a body honed from centuries of battle. The vest was a darker color, and accent to the stripes of the suit, and the whole package was finished off with a crisp white collared button down and black velvet tie. 

“He looks hot,” Nile enters the room, interrupting the couple’s teasing as she walks towards them in a beautiful green ball gown. She would be posing as Joe’s date to the gala, their plan was to distract the target while Andy slipped away from her position as the weight staff to get the information they needed. Nicky would be up high, keeping an eye on everyone as he hid in the shadows. 

“Ready to go?” Nile asks, taking the knife Nicky hands her and tucking it into her a secret pocket hidden in the folds of her dress.

“One second,” Nicky says, and pulls Joe by his lapels, kissing him deeply.

He was going to take his time taking Joe’s suit off later. 

#usercacau #tuseradriana #yusuf al kaysani #niclo di genova #the old guard #usermarwan #tusermj #userbooker #idk who else to tag tbh #my writing #totalnerdwrites #immortal husbands

[nilefreemans]

motorcycles + nile & yusuf 💛

“Loosen your hold on the clutch-” Joe is being endlessly patient with Nile. She had wanted to learn the moment she had seen Joe’s bike parked in a storage shed on a mission a few months back, and they were now taking some downtime. Nile mentioned that she always wanted to ride one but her mother had put the fear of God with her in motorcycles, and she had never acted on her mild curiosity. 

Joe, being the vibrant man he was, was ecstatic to teach Nile how to ride. 

“Finally someone with taste,” He had joked and only kissed Nicky’s cheek when he had groaned. Joe had told her a fantastic tale about a motorcycle chase that had happened in the 1970′s, back when Nicky apparently had a mustache and Nile wasn’ quite sure how much of it had been true, but she’s seen Joe ride on a mission while getting shot at, and so she chooses to believe in most of it. The man rode his bike like you’d see in an action film and Nile could only begin to imagine how much practice went into the stunts Joe would pull. 

Being immortal didn’t mean you weren’t immune to adrenaline rushes. 

“It keeps an old man young,” Joe had joked when Nile asked if he had any other dangerous hobbies, his smile wide and contagious. Nile felt a little at ease when she was around Joe, she missed her past life just a little bit less. A part of her knew when the others were distracting her, but she welcomed the attention and reaped the benefits of having three people over nine hundred years in age wanting to teach her some of the skills they have learned in their long lives. 

It wasn’t like she had to worry about time anymore, might as well fill it with as much as she could.

“We’ll get you a bike soon,” Joe says, impressed with Nile’s progress. “Something pretty that will not be shot at.” 

“You have experience losing pretty bikes?” Nile asks, and Joe sighs dramatically, making her smile.

“I had this beautiful white Harley. A drug runner didn’t appreciate her as much as I did though, the explosion had been so underwhelming too.” Joe closes his eyes at the memory and places his hand over his heart. “Truly a tragic end for such a magnificent piece of machinery.” 

Joe continues their lessons well past lunch, trading stories as he shows her how to properly lean her body into turns, and how to compensate for sudden changes in balance. Part of his lessons reminded her of when her father had shown her how to ride a normal bicycle. If Joe senses her change in mood, he doesn’t mention it and Nile is forever grateful to him for it. 

#usercacau #tuseradriana #bookersebastien #tusermj #yusuf al kaysani #nile freeman #this probably isnt what you asked for #but action scenes are hard #aljshajs #THANK YOU THOUGH #cacau tag #my writing #totalnerdwrites #the old guard #yusufnicolo

[nilefreemans]

Joe/Nicky + "Is that... my shirt?"

They’re packing up their small camp together, getting their few items ready for the horses for another long journey ahead of them. Constantly being on the move meant that there was no steady income, and the past few weeks had been rough on the two of them. The few towns they had managed to come across had been wary of the two of them, whispers following them labeled the pair as bandits, despite the simple fact that both men wanted nothing but peace.

Unfortunately greater powers have determined that the two would run into trouble and given their talents, it would be selfish to stand by when both were capable of doing some good. 

Fighting was inevitable, and in a world where cruel men would kill to get what they desired, their clothing was the largest casualty. So many shirts had been sacrificed to the greater good, their threads slashed apart and dyed red with blood. 

Yusuf had mourned the loss of many good shirts. High-quality fabric that was soft against his skin and deep colors that he knew had Nicolo’s gaze linger for longer than was appropriate. If he was going to continue to die, Yusuf was determined that he would at least not look like a dead man walking. 

Nicolo on the other hand, whilst being a dear friend, did not care about his state of dress. It was both endlessly endearing and frustrating. Many times Yusuf had tried to get Nicolo to be more conscious of the clothes he would purchase the few times they were given the chance. But often, as it usually was with Nicolo, he would spend less on things for himself and more for others. 

For every threadbare article of clothing he purchased, someone would be finding food when before they had none. 

Between the two of them, Nicolo had less worldly possesions, beyond his weapons, but Yusuf could not fault the man for his kind nature. 

It brings them to now, however, the night after a messy run-in with some violent thieves had left both of them bloodied and exhausted, After riding far from the scene of their battle they had fallen asleep quickly, and now in the morning, they were witnessing just how little they had left in the morning light. 

“Is that... my shirt?” Yusuf asks, when he turns to Nicolo, watching him stretch next to his own horse, a deep red shirt hanging off his frame. Yusuf’s shirt.

“I’m afraid my last one was suddenly filled with too many holes to wear,” Nicolo says, his crooked smile lighting his face that seemed to shine brighter than the morning sun itself. “Stab wounds have that unfortunate side effect.”

“You make jokes while stealing my clothes?” Yusuf replies with his own smile and joins in when Nicolo laughs brightly, shaking his head as he finishes strapping his small pack to his horse. 

“I’ll return it as soon as I’m able,” Nicolo mounts his horse, as Yusuf has seen him do thousands of times before, but with the addition of red silk falling over strong shoulders, Yusuf can’t help but watch as if he’s never seen the action before. “Surely you’d prefer me sharing then seeing me bare for however long we have until we find another town.” 

Yusuf was known to always be able to find the words, his talented tongue was a gift he had for his whole life. He could compose passionate poetry at the drop of a hat, but at Nicolo’s teasing words he can’t seem to find any to reply. 

“No I wouldn’t mind,” Yusuf swallows, looking Nicolo up and down with the same suggestive glance the two had been exchanging for months now, neither acting on it, afraid for irrational reasons. Yusuf wasn’t ready for that though, so quickly he adds, “you wearing my shirt. It’s better than watching the sun reflect off your white skin into my eyes.” 

Nicolo laughs again, his whole body shaking on his horse, and Yusuf watches again, entranced by how his shirt shifted against Nicolo’s skin. He would not mind witnessing the man before him bare for the world to see, but he found the idea of Nicolo wearing his shirts somewhat more desirable, more intimate.

“I’ll do my best not to damage it,” Nicolo says earnestly, shaking Yusuf from his yearning thoughts. 

“We’re around the same size,” Yusuf hurries, reassuring his friend that despite the teasing he really didn’t mind. He does not add that he would actually enjoy the sight of Nicolo in more of his clothing, though he aches to say the words, to be the first to break from the dance they’ve been sharing, to extend an invitation to something more. 

Instead, he mounts his own horse and rides with Nicolo, a little distance behind so he can watch the way red silk moves across capable shoulders as they ride.

#modeas #usercacau #tuseradriana #tusermj #immortal husbands #yusuf al kaysani #nicolo di genova #what if I wrote another pining fic??????? #the old guard #prompts #filled #totalnerdwrites #modeans

[nilefreemans]

you’re my ex but i think i still have feelings for you + yusufnicolo (make it very angsty pls 🙈)

read on ao3

His steps falter as he moves, one hand clenched at the wound on his side, and the other hand blindly leading him through the dark, bloodied handprints staining the soft blue of the walls. He doesn’t dare turn on the light, afraid that it will just make his current desperation somehow more real, more final. 

Nicky’s breath is labored, loud to his own trained ears, but to anyone else he would still be deadly quiet. He stumbles purposely, letting his footsteps alert the resident that he was being invaded, that he wasn’t alone.

He stills, waiting, eyes closing as he tries to stay upright. There’s careful footsteps, and the sound of the safety being turned off a handgun. Nicky smiles, glad that his unwilling host is still protecting himself. 

“Don’t move-” Joe’s voice is rough from sleep, and Nicky doesn’t need to see Joe to picture his face, determined and deadly, but still so beautiful that Nicky would be breathless from things other than the wounds that litter his body. 

“I can’t move much anyways,” he replies, and swallows the blood that pooled slightly in his mouth, the metallic taste anchoring him to the present, anchoring him to Joe.

“Nicolo?” Joe’s voice breaks and with it so does Nicky’s will to stay upright. He stumbles and Joe catches him, lowering the pair of them to the floor. “Shit Nicky what-” 

Joe’s hands find the worst of his wound and Nicky groans, pain flaring through his side and making his vision blur. There’s blood on Joe’s hands now, his blood, and he hopes that he doesn’t stain Joe’s carpet too badly. He already shouldn’t be here, he doesn’t need to add property damage to his long list of crimes towards the other man. 

“Nicky what -” Joe’s struggling for words, and Nicky frowns. Joe was always the more articulate of the two, a poet to his very soul. “I can’t-”

Joe stands and Nicky mourns the loss of the warmth of his hands. His whole body feels cold, in the back of his mind he realizes that it’s because he’s lost too much blood, that his body is shutting down, but the sentimental part of him, the one he’s been ignoring for years connects the lack of warmth from Joe moving away. He’s cold now from his injuries, but he’s been numb for years. 

Selfish, his mind supplies, hissing at him with a spiteful anger that Nicky was very familiar with. He was being selfish for coming back, for returning to Joe one last time. He’s not going to survive this, and Joe deserves better. It’s the reason why Nicky had left in the first place. He’s a stain on Joe’s life, like the blood on the walls and floor of the apartment that he could have had a life in.

A warm hand touches his face, and Nicky blinks his eyes open, wincing at the light. He hadn’t even realized Joe had returned, let alone had turned on the lights to his living room. Nicky was losing what little time he had left, the adrenaline leaving his body, his mind finally relaxing because he’s always felt safest with Joe.

“Don’t you dare fucking come here only to die on me,” Joe tells him, his hand tilting Nicky’s chin ‘til he was looking directly into Joe’s warm eyes. Nicky had missed those eyes, missed how they were never ending in their depth, and so expressive that Nicky felt as if he could spend a thousand years with Joe and still not know every emotion they shared. The crinkles around them are stressed and Nicky returns Joe’s own gesture, his hand shaky and cold against Joe’s warm face. His thumb rubs at the creases of Joe’s eyes and frowns at the blood he leaves behind, it shouldn’t be there, he shouldn’t be here. 

If Nicky could move he would leave, but he can’t feel his legs, and his raised hand falls to his side. He doesn’t have the strength anymore.

“- should call a hospital.” Joe is saying, and Nicky’s lost some time again. Everything is hazy, like he’s not really there. He hears himself telling Joe that a hospital would be no good, that he can’t go anywhere with as wanted as he is. He’s unaware that his speech is slurring, that Joe’s hands are shaking as they try and stop the bleeding. 

“Thank you, Yusuf,” Nicky manages to get out. He’s speaking in his native Italian now, but Joe understands his words, he’s the only man who could understand any of him. In a better situation, he wouldn’t be dying at Joe’s side, he would be apologizing and begging Joe to take him back. Joe would have every right to say no, and Nicky would never come back. At his loneliest and most desperate he imagines the life he could have had with Joe, the one he threw away, the one Joe had asked him to stay for. 

Nicky had run instead. 

He’d run and he hadn’t come back, wouldn’t come back until he knew Joe was safe

Nicky blinks and looks at Joe again, only he’s crying. Why is Joe crying? Joe shouldn’t be crying, he’s safe, he’s finally safe.

“-safe now,” Nicky manages, smiling despite the pain, and Joe lurches forward, dropping the bloody rag to take Nicky’s face in his hands. His hands are shaking, and Nicolo sees the red and tries to imagine other colors there instead. Joe’s hands should only have paint on them, not blood. Nicky’s hands had enough for the both of them. 

“You’re a damn fool, Nicolo,” Joe’s voice is a broken whisper, voice filled with anger and desperation and something that Nicky’s muddled thoughts can’t process. Years ago he would have called it love.

“I love you,” Nicky says with as much conviction as he can, all of his strength going to making his voice as clear and steady as possible. He can’t leave without letting Joe know the truth.

If these are to be his final words, may they be ones of love.

Six years ago.

Joe sits restlessly in his wheelchair next to his hospital bed. He had been admitted for eight days and Nicky had been with him the entire time. A solid presence at his side, silent but helpful, but something in Nicky had cracked when he had found Joe half dead, what felt like a long time ago, and he had been barely holding the pieces together. They had both been on edge, and their fight the night before had sent Nicky running. 

Foolishly Joe had hoped that Nicky would be there in the morning, that he wouldn’t have taken Joe telling him to leave seriously, that he would come back.

“You promised me you quit this life.” Joe’s words echo in his head, purposely cruel. He was in so much pain, and he was so tired, an exhaustion that made him lash out. 

Nicky had apologized, had explained that he was doing his best to put it behind him. The organization he worked for hadn’t accepted his retirement, and Joe had paid the price for it. He had almost died and the realization of his own mortality had terrified him.

Nicky had held his hand, had kissed his knuckles gently and promised him that he was going to take care of things, that he would make sure Joe was safe, that no one would ever hurt him again. 

“The thought of you going out for revenge hurts me, Nicolo,” Joe closes his eyes, remembering Nicky’s pained expression. “Leave it all behind, I don’t want more bloodshed. We can start over.” 

Nicky had frowned, and told him that it was impossible.

“Stay please.” 

Nicky had left that night, and when the nurse came to wheel him out to the lobby Andy had been waiting for him instead of Nicky.

Joe had come back to an empty apartment, Nicky’s only remaining belonging being a gun. There was a note saying that his bills had been paid for and that he was to move as soon as he could, that the apartment had been paid off for the rest of the year. Joe did as instructed, he wasn’t foolish enough to stay where he could almost get killed again. He was furious, but that fury had numbed down to a resignation that made him almost spiteful. 

He moved to an apartment that Nicky would have loved, had painted the walls a shade of blue that reminded him of their vacation in Malta. 

Joe waited. 

A week turned into a month, and months to years and three years later Nicky still hadn’t returned.

Joe moved on. 

Three more years passed and he had settled into his new life. He had dated others, but Nicky’s ghost haunted his relationships, and Joe wouldn’t let his relationships suffer from that. He wasn’t really alone anyways, Joe still had his friends, his family, and he always ignored the small part of him that knew Nicky had no one.

He sleeps alone. 

He sleeps alone, he lives alone, so when he hears someone in his apartment he grabs the gun Nicky had left for him and turns off the safety. He’ll never be as good with it as the man who had left it for him was, but he isn’t going to be left alone to die again. 

“Don’t move-” He tells the intruder, assessing the situation the best he can in the dark of his apartment. The intruder is slouched over, his left arm shaking as he tries to steady himself against the wall. Joe blinks, he knows the slope of those shoulders and- 

“I can’t move much anyways,” says a voice he hasn’t heard in six years, and Joe almost drops the gun he’s holding. The man before him isn’t a ghost, he isn’t some dream that Joe’s lonely mind had conjured, he’s real and there is something very wrong with the way he’s holding himself.

“Nicolo?” Joe asks finally, his voice catching on a name he didn’t ever think he would speak again. Nicky stumbles, and Joe rushes to catch him, lowering him to the floor and discarding the gun in as smooth of motion he can. His hands touch Nicky’s sides and they come away warm and slick with blood. Joe tries finding his words, tries to ask Nicky what the hell happened. 

He shakes as he stands, turning on the light and wincing at the bloody handprints on his walls. For a moment he feels frozen in time, but Nicky groans in pain and Joe is moving. He rushes towards his bathroom, taking out the first aid kit he keeps stored under his sink and makes his way over to Nicky, kneeling at the other man’s side and trying desperately to stop the bleeding. 

Joe suggests a hospital, and Nicky turns him down, but he’s not surprised. Nicky’s wounds are an echo of the life the other man lives. He wouldn’t find help there, and Joe isn’t even sure if Nicky would make it to the hospital in time, not with all the blood he’s lost. The blood that’s all over his apartment, Nicky’s blood. 

“Don’t you dare fucking come here only to die on me,” Joe repeats what he said earlier, but his statement doesn’t seem to reach the other man. Nicky keeps fighting consciousness, and Joe is helpless to it. Nicky’s running out of time, and there’s nothing he can do to stop it. 

Nicky thanks him for some odd reason. Thank you Yusuf. It has been years since he’s heard his full name said in Nicky’s beautiful tenor and Joe hates that he’s hearing it again like this. Hearing it as Joe tries to stop Nicky from bleeding out, from dying. 

Joe’s aware he’s crying, but he can’t stop. The tears fall freely and his throat aches, but he can’t look away from Nicky. He can’t miss a moment of what little time Nicky has left. He holds back a sob and listens as Nicky tells him that he’s safe now, smiling because Nicky has always been kind even when he didn’t believe it himself. 

“You’re a damn fool, Nicolo.” Joe’s hands cradle Nicky’s face gently, holding onto what little life Nicky had left to offer. He thinks of all the times he had ached to do this before, and curses his cruel reality of having those wishes come true only to end in such a way. 

“I love you,” Nicky tells him, his words steady, a conviction to his voice that felt like something final. His breathing stops, like speaking those last three words had taken up all of what little energy he had left, what little life he had left. 

Nicky’s eyes are open, blue and unseeing. 

“Wake up!” Joe shouts, shaking Nicky’s body, but he gets no response. “Come back to me. Stay. Please,” Joe begs, but Nicky can’t answer him, not anymore.

Finally he breaks and he pulls Nicky’s unmoving body to his chest, holding him tightly. Later he will get up and he will wrap Nicky in a blanket and close his beautiful eyes. He’ll scrub the blood off his walls until he strips the paint and he will call Andy and figure out what the hell they were going to do now. Later, he will go into the part of Nicky’s life that he had always tried to protect Joe from. Later, later, later. 

Now he pulls Nick’s still body to his chest as he weeps, gasping for breath between pained sobs. Now he mourns over a man that had his full heart and soul. Now he will whisper the words he wished he could have said one last time. 

“I love you, too.” 

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