#ghost quynh

[anosrepasi]

Code Switch - Chapter 2: Little Brother

The first time Nicolo calls Quynh little sister she had laughed and protested, “I am not your little sister, not by centuries!” -- Quynh and her brothers over the course of time.

[minteagalaxea]

steep (woo) | r.r

roman and quynh

genre: angst . fluff . smut (minors dni) content warnings: thigh riding . praise kink . mild sir kink . nb character (afab) . multiple orgasms . implied age gap (quynh is in their mid-twenties) . protected sex (quynh is stated to have the arm implant) word count: 4.45k inspiration: roman reigns' many barbs about missionary position against john cena . tea and boba obsessions songs: woo by rihanna (slowed and reverb) (x) . claws by kim petras (slowed and reverb) (x) read also: "steep (xxviii reasons)" (x) note: thank you to @lov3rla03 and everyone who enjoyed the first one, so i hope you guys get to enjoy the journey quynh gets to experience and lets you guys get to know them!! they're one of my favorite ocs i've made (and i've made a lot lol)

at twenty-five, quynh learned the weight of building a life around a ghost—rightfully so for someone who was twenty-five, it wasn’t something they particularly enjoyed.

they loved john. of course they did. but it was tiring to know that when they had crafted a life, a career, and identity of their own outside of his shadow, was equally liberating and suffocating to know that they weren’t just connected to him in career, they weren’t connected to him in the slightest.

they corrected themselves as they sipped their tea as they read through the card for the night, noting which questions they were asking and to whom backstage as they did their round of pacing. it was somewhat liberating that they weren’t tethered to a clean-cut image that was so saccharine quynh’s stomach roiled violently just at the mere thought of it. but, he liked it, so they tried. they really fucking tried.

as they paced in the room, quynh realized that they should be angry with john. it was well within their rights to be. they did their part, calling and texting and sending photos to include him in their life, the moments they crafted. fuck, they even texted him and called him about their tattoo appointment, wanting him to share it with them and be there.

that text barely went acknowledged—quynh went alone, and that was when they really knew that they were living with a ghost for a boyfriend.

when they heard the door open, they looked at their lover and realized the title felt hollow, like an empty platitude to justify that they both used to be in love. and, with a hug, a kiss to his cheek, they said they couldn’t do it anymore. and he understood, kissing their forehead and wishing them well on the show; they did the same.

the shit thing was how their farewells were so easy: given how he relocated, it made it harder for them to miss him. how could they miss something that never really existed?

“you could mourn, you know?” quynh heard someone say as they started to prepare, slipping in a pair of colored contacts. silver, to separate from his blue and orange.

they peered up once they were on, affixing their gaze upon the other man through the mirror. “what do i have to mourn if there isn’t anything to mourn, roman?”

roman reigns—if quynh had to consider who they really built their career around, no matter how unintentional it was, it was him. they knew, as everyone did, and they knew that wwe was pushing him hard. so hard that they weren’t sure how he managed to get in the ring every fucking night and have the self-possession to not let it hurt his soul. except everyone figured out that there was a surefire way to get roman over without absolute question.

all it took was quynh interviewing him.

quynh knew that it wasn’t inherently as simple, but they always shared that same sense of intensity. and the way they looked at one another, body harmonizing and eyes smoldering as they let him bury his own grave with each question they asked and each silence prolonged. there was something about the tension, the unspoken dance, their natural dynamic, that seemed to have the wwe universe cheering and actually getting him over. not that the audience ever realized that they weren’t together. both had a healthy appreciation of one another, but knew what it meant if either were to ever entertain the fantasy when they were still with john up until less than thirty minutes ago.

except now they weren’t. and quynh thought that perhaps was scarier.

the two stared at one another through the mirror for a moment, silent as they pondered one another’s words in the mirror. quynh tried not to fantasize about the way his arm piece would look against the ones on their sides as their top rose while they started to work on their makeup.

roman offered a smile, one of those genuine ones beneath the smoldering intensity of his gaze, and wished them good luck, and they did the same. quynh tried to not consider how much more invested they felt with a man they were never with.

at (almost) twenty-six, quynh learned what it meant to miss someone that wasn’t a ghost, despite being far away.

roman looked…healthier. and that was good, given what he just fought. and yet, here he was, staring at them with a pallor that suggested he actually did see a ghost, except perhaps the ghost was them.

out of respect, quynh didn’t excessively contact him, preferring their meetups for boba when they were in town or a rare video call. casual and easy, they tried to be close to him, offering him patience where they could over the past four months. and they enjoyed learning about roman, the soul that was strong and gentle, sweet and bitter in equal measure.

it took them a moment to realize that roman hadn’t seen them quite as glamorous in a long while, sensual as they were deadly in their long legs and heels that put them just at his height. maybe it was a good thing they were attempting to kill a man who just came back from beating cancer, because it gave him one of the greatest reactions ever.

except nobody had to know how he took their hand when the camera didn’t notice, trying to ground himself in quynh’s iciness, their stoicism. the pallor might have remained as he stared, but both knew what their job was, and it was to give their audience the greatest damn show in the world with his return. quynh missed seeing him grind his eyes into theirs, onyx meeting whatever artificial color suited their whims. tonight was their normal color for once.

nobody noticed how they settled in the hotel bar together with drinks as they celebrated, both casual and intimate at once as they scrolled through their phone, responding to their artist about their appointment. “first one?” roman asked, voice warm and low and genuinely piqued.

quynh shook their head, swirling their grasshopper before they took a sip. “i got one a year back.”

“he come with you?” he didn’t need to name him—both of them knew.

“left me on ‘read’.” they weren’t sure why they didn’t sound as bitter; perhaps it was due to john’s own lack of them. their eyes lingered on roman’s own arm, a beautiful tapestry of his culture and took another sip of their drink, trying to not think too hard about how it contrasted and complemented their minimalist lines.

“i could come with you, if you��d like,” he offered, snapping them out of their introspection. quynh’s hand stilled, eyes heavy with scrutiny as they questioned his intentions. “i know you probably didn’t cry or anything, but i’d want to be there if you wanted mortal support.”

they blinked at him carefully, not wanting to set themselves up for disappointment, “day after tomorrow if you wanna come.”

quynh hadn’t expected for him to show up then, sitting sentinel throughout their session and providing copious amounts of attention to them as he watched the art take shape on their physique. they hadn’t felt quite seen like this before, and it made them feel acknowledged as he saw the art continue onto their thighs—heard the story behind the genesis of the piece from their artist. when the piece was finished, the heat returned to roman’s eyes as their artist applied the second skin bandage, admiring the masterpiece to their body with ferality. he looked at them through the mirror as their artist took more photos of their physique. the heat was unmistakable as they tilted their head in confusion.

“what was he like?” he asked them.

quynh considered the question thoroughly, attempting to find the words for a man they didn’t want to entirely badmouth.

yet, they couldn’t deny the heat in their eyes as they responded, “regular white meat babyface, i guess.”

“and i’m not, baby?” roman challenged with a smirk, one that brought heat to quynh’s eyes as they let themselves indulge in the timber of his touch, the velvet of his voice.

“you’re back now…i guess we’ll see if you can follow through on your ambition, big dog.”

at twenty-seven, quynh learned exactly how ambition turned a ghost into something physical, ferocious, and fantastic.

they had always liked roman just fine—they had no reason to deny the unfathomable amounts of chemistry and connection they had. yet, they had no reason to broach the territory beyond tenuous friendship and burgeoning want. not because of john, though the beginning certainly contained that, but they were both…complacent, they supposed. it wasn’t unwarranted, and the constancy of their dynamic was one they definitely valued and appreciated as the pandemic hit.

and then, roman returned at summerslam and destroyed braun strowman and the fiend with absolute vengeance that quynh hadn’t seen from him before. and he took a chair to braun strowman. and quynh, who had observed the entire match, commentated on the entire match?

well, they had never felt more heat stream through their veins when he met their artificially gold ones.

in quynh’s opinion, roman had never been more attractive to them, now that he was tapping into the ambition, the darkness, the power they always thought he tried to temper to make himself successful. and now that the brakes were off, and he was asserting what was his, taking without mercy, quynh felt their heart rate spike.

when roman took back his universal championship, they smiled with a feral want they hadn’t expected in themselves. they were starting to truly understand why roman looked at them so, and perhaps why things seemed to naturally work between the two of them, with each appearance to support them through their tattoo appointments (not that they ever needed it) and each interview and comment they gave him now that he was the head of the table, the tribal chief.

quynh quickly learned where the irony really lied—he took from others, but gave to them beyond measure. and it really started one night in his hotel as they fell back into their easy ways until he leaned up into them, forehead against theirs as he offered the smile of a jackal poised to pounce. “what was it like…being with him?” roman asked, and quynh wasn’t sure how to respond, or the context he even asked. the only additional hint it required for them to really decipher the context was his hands splayed on their waist.

“he preferred missionary,” they murmured dryly, ambivalent about it all, but not wanting to badmouth a man who they loved once a long time ago, dissonant as they pondered the reasoning. it was easier, given his exhaustion, and he wanted the intimacy they could provide in that way.

certainly, though, routine was the mother of complacency, and it did explain quynh’s revolving door of boba drinks they picked depending on their temperament.

“every time?” he asked, subsequent to a moment of silence. they nodded, and shrugged haplessly as they thought about it.

“it was easier.”

roman’s voice growled as he cinched their waist closer to him, “easy doesn’t mean good, baby.”

quynh nodded, a hand resting against his arm as their legs straddled over his hips, while his own roamed up to their halter-neck bralette, the crisscross cutout revealing the moment of ink on their sternum. “baby, why did it take so long?” he asked, “you know this ain’t something you can hide. you know we keep coming back to each other.” they knew, and they whispered exactly why.

“the beginning…we knew…with john, and we knew we were better than being dirty secrets,” they confessed, “but, i was waiting…you seemed like you were going through an evolution, trying to figure who you wanted to be. and the man i see now is the man i adore even more. i’ve always known what we could be, but we weren’t ready. we didn’t know who we were then. we do now.”

when roman bridged the gap, capturing their lips into a kiss that told them everything he didn’t say aloud, quynh knew that this was where they were meant to be as he lifted them to his bed, extricating their bralette and undergarments to have them straddling his thigh. flexing the muscle there, he let them set the pace, allowing them to rediscover human intimacy in a way that died down long after their relationship with john. maybe even because of him. roman, however, seemed hellbent on trying to reignite that spark in them as he murmured things. so many things and fantasies that dated back to the very first interview they conducted with him. things about how he wanted to kiss them, pin them against the wall.

“baby, when i came back in remission and saw your outfit?” he rasped with interest as he helped them bounce on his thigh at the pace they were finding they liked, “that silver hair of yours, that turtleneck? your leather jacket? your heels? fuck, i wanted to get you out of those right then and there, make a big statement on my return with you.”

part of quynh realized that this probably explained a large part of why roman’s gaze always lingered the way it did, like he was trying to respectfully undress them in his mind. not that they were susceptible to that type of energy now, and especially now that he made it so much easier with those fitted t-shirts over that tactical gear.

as their hips flexed on this thigh, they rested their face into the junction of his neck, whimpering in an almost uncharacteristic shyness as one of his hands brushed their pearl, pressing insistent circles to help them along. quynh thought their body was crumbling apart, bursting into seafoam, only for him to mold them back together.

maybe the metaphor is inaccurate—roman might just be more adept at helping them blossom and be devoured at the right time, like a master of fine and rare teas that they had been exploring at tea shops more recently.

yet, somehow, it didn’t matter as he whispered them promises of desire, stories of want, years of yearning that he could finally have them, the version of them unencumbered with ghosts and monsters and tannins that sucked the moisture from their mouth. it was enough for that wave of tension to crash over them and soak the fabric of his pants as he offered them a kiss and swallowed their gentle sounds with greed until their hips stilled. it was a fascinating paradox, then, one that sent their mind reeling and hazy in the most saccharine of ways as he held them close, pressing kisses that made the heat rise to their skin and dilation to their pupils.

“you okay if i fuck you now, baby?” he asked, running his hands along the new pieces along their waist and thighs with a small, playful smirk, “promise it won’t be missionary for the hundredth time.”

quynh leaned into him, a breezy sort of giggle as they assented, their artificial nails digging into his shoulders as he knelt, wrapping their legs around his waist as he rubbed his tip against their soaked folds, before helping them sink down onto his length and feel every stretch.

“better than missionary?” he teased, giving them a moment to adjust before allowing them to set the pace while he caressed every inch of their inked body in between fevered kisses. they didn’t respond, not verbally, punctuating their desire with slow, impactful slams down onto his sizeable girth, the airiest of mewls tumbling past their lips as they kissed, tongues tangling as his hips met theirs halfway and harmonizing with his heavy growls.

as they arched their back towards him and tilted their head back in bliss, roman took over the pace for them, matching their preferred rhythm while lavishing kisses and marks to the column of their throat; quynh held him close, claws sinking into his luscious locks to keep him affixed to their throat as his thrusts swept inside deep into them, imprinting their cunt to fit him perfectly as he dragged them to the precipice of euphoria.

it was with this that they came with a breathy moan of his name, letting him spill into their clenching tightness not long after, sinking his teeth into the junction of their neck just above their tattoo as their groan reached a crescendo, just enough to bathe the room with their desire as roman pistoned himself through both of their climaxes. whispers of his name flowed from their lips as quynh settled, craning their neck forward again to press their forehead against his as their breaths mingled.

as their voice came back to them, quynh’s eyes settled on the man beneath them, cupping his face as they finally decided to answer that question of his from earlier. they hadn’t remembered the last time they felt this powerful, this free, now that their ambition for an equal let them take as much as he was willing to give them.

quynh lilted, “better,” and they felt like they had finally blossomed into the creature they were always meant to be as they peered at roman with a breathless, blissful beam.

at twenty-eight, quynh learned that some ghosts, no matter how much they buried them, didn’t like to stay there.

john was back, of course he was. they weren’t sure how they felt about it personally, but they maintained their professional veneer. they weren’t sure how they could function without it, despite their body simmering into frustration, because of course john had to return now.

roman, as he always did, took it somewhat unpleasantly, though it wasn’t just for his own sake, much to their shock. because he was right: john didn’t change, no matter what hollywood wanted to portray him. however, the other part of it was the intrinsic knowledge of their relationship, and the snippets that quynh offered over the year of their relationship, their proper relationship as partners.

the fact that roman really had to use the missionary reference for john when delivering that promo made them sound like a borderline hyena backstage despite the audience jeering at the statement. though, quynh considered, a fair majority of it had more to do with the fact that they knew roman was trying to protect them in his own way, upset about the situation for them about john in a way they never really processed.

and when john cena hijacked the signing for that summerslam match? all because roman denied him his challenge for the universal championship?

they felt like they were a teapot of steaming water about to fucking explode.

roman told them he was going to deny it—that wasn’t the surprise, because they knew what the whole point was. roman had changed, evolved into someone with so much more than the initial reputation he had. and that had made them even more chilling on the microphone during their interviews with him than he probably expected, because he still knew them. more than they wanted to admit to themselves.

hence, the sense of vindication they felt when roman brought up how twenty years of missionary wasn’t enough for them evidently. quynh could only smirk behind their mug of tea as they blinked at him with a raised brow, safe behind their sage colored contacts and their almond-shaped press-ons, the perfect juxtaposition to the vivacity of john’s attire and roman’s monochrome. and the nebulous definition of their relationship on the screen enabled roman to rattle john so deeply, a lesson john had taught them about letting the appeal of their relationship, the on-screen will they won’t they parts of it, become the major draw of their thing. quynh loathed that they had to learn how to hide the true nature of their relationship with someone they loved so deeply to spare them both given how intertwined their persona was with roman’s.

when summerslam started, they let everyone else talk. there was no point for them to exert that energy towards something that they didn’t feel pertinent to the overall story, though they provided their own analysis of the situation in the way that would make sense to anyone else: john wanted to come back and take opportunities away from younger, more current workers. and they chose not to answer when cole asked them if they thought it had to do with them, providing context for others the potential jealousy john might be experiencing given how roman swayed their affections. everyone else could think what they wanted to about the matter.

yet, as they thought about the nature of their relationships with these things, they scoffed as roman nailed john with another spear after some superman punches after john tried to mimic roman’s signature move. quynh wasn’t sure if they wanted confirmation that he tried that after seeing their disinterested expression. and then roman looked at them as they leaned back in their chair, and he finished the job. corey also had to snark that roman worked devastatingly hard to earn quynh’s praise, praise that felt like an elusive prize for someone as dominant as he was.

so, they gave it to him, commenting that roman laid out an almost artful performance. john nearly glared at them for that, though they paid him little mind as they worked on commentating the loose ends of their feud. and the heat in roman’s eyes when he looked back at them as he walked away made their cheeks imperceptibly warm.

the smirk on their face from brock lesnar’s unexpected appearance and giving john german suplexes and a f-5 in immediate succession was just the icing on the cake to try and keep their ghosts away now that this was all over.

at twenty-eight (several hours later), quynh learned how to properly bury a ghost.

roman, for all his exhaustion, was determined to celebrate in his impatient sort of way as he kissed them, hard and intense but with considerable care as they leapt into his arms, his hands gripping their denim trousers before slipping off their leather jacket and the belt of their pants.

“you make it hard for me to do my job, baby,” he teased, voice raspy in his exhaustion as he managed to slip off their pants and leave them in their black turtleneck bodysuit.

their hair billowed in this face, soft and fluffy against his wet and denser tresses from his conditioner and water as their nails tangled into them. “does it matter since you won?” quynh rebutted, jovial and seductive in equal measure as they buried their nose into his neck, “can’t have a fighting champion that slacks off right, sir?”

he nearly ripped their bodysuit off of them, how they used that title like it was a weapon that made him bleed with pride for them, one used sparingly and with the full force of a freight train as he pressed them on top of his face, sinking them down onto his handsome visage with vigor. they took from him, cognizant of his exhaustion in this position as they rode his face with semi-reckless abandon, blossoming underneath his tongue like a moon-blooming flower as they mewled and whined and preened for roman over and over. his tongue delved in like a man starved in the desert, having finally found his oasis—an oasis willing to give him all the ambrosia to consume.

they weren’t sure how many times they came like that, but quynh knew that at some point, they felt a pair of eyes on them, a familiar pair that could easily discern by the sheer weight of his gaze. yet, they didn’t deign to give him more satisfaction beyond a view that he evidently couldn’t look away from. maybe it was ironic, then, maybe it could be attributed to roman’s youth relative to john, the fact that he never really stopped wrestling, and didn’t just return on a whim.

they also knew their lover well enough to know that he really wanted to spite john just a little more, while also bringing them to new precipices of pleasure as he took them from behind, their body arched deep as he took his time, letting everything about them melt into a perfect harmony and contrast, their complexions, their ink, the bodies telling a story of yin and yang as roman pulled moans from them and had their body writhe in inexorable ways with each apex of pleasure.

but the reality that they were being watched set quynh’s nerves ablaze, and not because it made them aroused. it was the fact that the ghost they wanted to exorcise wouldn’t fucking leave. and they wanted roman to hide them, to shield the type of vulnerability they had just started learning to give again. roman hadn’t broken a promise with them yet, and he understood what they needed as he held them close, helped them slide onto his length, meeting them despite his exhaustion, his stamina relentless as ever.

quynh was starting to forget what it felt like to have just a piece of silicon bring them pleasure on nights like these, nights where they couldn't have the closeness they craved more than anything else. roman always delivered on that aspect, their banter fluid as water and viscous with adoration as he felt the imprint his length made in their abdomen, the deepness he provided, as they begged. and with the impeccable timing of his favorite pet name, he spilled into them, deep inside their walls as he kept them close and worked through their nth climax. yet, their most favorite part was the aftercare, the way he always ensured their comfort as he kissed the shrine of ink along their body, especially their arm with their implant as they shied away from their intruder, wanting to hide the artwork that defined their journey without him, especially their first one on their sides.

roman helped them back up back to their feet, helping them affix their heels and hair before draping his hoodie over them and asking if they wanted hotpot for dinner. quynh also heard the scurry of john’s footsteps to try and recover some semblance of dignity, but they knew when they affixed their gaze onto him, eyes scanning as they always did as they reflect on the amount of barbs roman had left about missionary, him asking them earlier if their coupling position beat it out.

at twenty-eight, quynh learned that they became their old flame’s ghost with just a single word: better.

[pwnyta]

HUH

So no one was gonna tell me about The Old Guard?

I was supposed to just find it on a random ass Halloween 4 years after it aired... aight.

I mean I thought we were cool but I see how it is.

Anyways I watched it and I loved it IF YOU EVEN CARE.

Opinions-

Andy- Phenomenal. Never seen Charlize Theron look so damn hot. Even with her spooky eyes. Crazy butch bisexual(?) wielding a labrys sometimes. Love. Her church fight was sick as hell... im in denial about the stab tho... you can pry her from my cold dead fingies Netflix.

Booker-Like... OK. Like I get he was sad but its so hard to feel bad for him sometimes and like.. I dont hate him at all but just... I do wanna strangle him a little. JUST A LITTLE. I dont want him to be gone and never see Andy again... I hate that. I hate this movie.

Nicky- Great side profile, terrific nose... what in the Ben Linus is going on with the eyes tho? Those pale buggy eyes... This is your man, Joe? This Italian priest Templar knight with ghost eyes? Aight. Ribbing aside... I love him. Even if hes got spooky eyes.

Joe- Mortal enemies to immortal lovers is diabolical work. If you give me friends to lovers... it better be Crusade era enemies to begrudging companions to understanding friends to soul mates or fucking dont talk to me about it. NGL Joes kinda my favorite. Hes a silly little guy. Maybe my love for Sayid has made me soft for hyper-competent, deadly, romantic, shiny eyed Muslim men IDK.

Nile- LOVE. ..Ya know when Andy was like 'shes just a baby' I was like I sure hope this movie dont make me ship them cuz the fandom is probably gonna be annoying about that line but their plane fight was so hot... SUE ME. ANYWAYS... I love her. Apparently theres a second movie coming out & I cant wait to see her get to be a silly lil guy with the fam cuz she is silly lil guy. I love her relationship with Andy & I hope Andy gets better so they can be together forever & there can be some messy lesbian love triangle nonsense when Quynh.

Quynh- Dont got like... the deepest opinion of her just yet but her and Andy were like the Sapphic Nicky & Joe but in reverse.. like Nicky & Joe killed attacked each other then became lovers and it seems like Andy & Quynh were close and might become enemies? Of course IM GONNA IGNORE THE BAD STUFF AND PRETEND THEY JUST FIND EACH OTHER & ARE IN LOVE FOREVER. So...

Copley- Similar to Book I get his mindset but also I wanna strangle him a little. He is beautiful tho... so... Im interested in how hes gonna fit in with the gang... Im hoping for some drama at the start maybe them being like '...ya but hes not Booker...' and then Copley like... having some big hero moment saving the team or at least one of them and they get real close and then more drama because their new family is also just a normal guy & theyre gonna hurt to lose him some day. ANYWAYS.

MISC stuff I like-

The difference in how Nicky and Joe hug Andy.

Everything about this scene tbh. I just wanna see these types of scenes from now on. Silly lil guy moments.

Also Andys baklava addiction. Baklava is one of those things Ive always wanted to try... like boba and churros... ONE OF THESE DAYS.

This sick ass take down. Actually all the fight scenes were pretty sick. I like seeing them fight baddies all together... ODA TAKES NOTES. Also... full offense to guns but seeing Andy Nicky and Joe wield their old-school weapons is so much cooler... who brings a knife (labrys, long sword, scimitar) to a gun fight? THE COOLEST PEOPLE. THATS WHO.

Joe spitting out a bullet that he got shot in the face with.

'Shes just a baby!' (me with the whole team) Also TBF to Andy... Nile has such a cute baby face.

The development of Andy and Niles relationship. THO TBH I was bothered about Nile getting shot in the head because the exit wound woulda fucked her braids up.... I had a hard time focusing cuz I couldnt let that fact go lmao... It was driving me nuts...

The girls are fighting! (gone sexy)

Eepy not-boyfriends

Ancient head bonks of desperate affection. I hope all three of them head bonk Nile in the next movie. If this doesnt happen... im killing everyone in this room (its just me) and them myself.

This silly bitch in this moment.

Joes 'Hes not my boyfriend' speech. Incurable romantic indeed.

Honestly the soldiers tryin to insult Joe by mockingly asking if Nicky was his boyfriend and getting way more than they bargained for was fucking funny.

I just wish we coulda seen the faces of the guy driving the van as he heard the massacre in the back LMAO. Just keep drivin bud... aint nothin you can do about your boys in the back.

Immortal not-boyfriends gettin silly!

This is a nice plane! Theres a TV Joe!

lmao. The sillies.

Andy and Nile continuing to make me ship them.

Reunited and it feels so.... something but they were fighting together and it was real cool.

THEMB.

'You shot Nicky... you shouldnt have done that....'

Joe- Im a silly lil guy but (suplexes a man and breaks his neck)

Whyd he look so devastated after?

She wont jump out of a plane... but....

You betray Miette? You betray her like the bastard? Oh! OH! BANISHMENT FOR 100 YEARS!

Joe lookin at Booker the whole time... :c

[toxotesj]

What exactly is the vibe here? Unclear, but feel free to tell me! Are they both dead without ever reviving, sharing a very nice tomb in a “there was only one bed” situation (and falling in love as ghosts)?

Did Joe sneak Nicky Content into a window he designed?

Do they own a bunch of gravesites in a ‘dads picking out a burial plot’ kind of way?

Is this just a fancy window in their cottage in Malta (I bet they built that thing how I build in the Sims: all my favorite things, not caring if they match).

Whatever it is, everyone certainly is yearning. (please notice the sun/moon, where Nicky is looking, and that Andy/Quynh weapons are also in this)

[moxiebustion]

I had an idea for the Old Guard and Sherlock Holmes a few months back, which goes like this.

John Watson is an immortal.

He doesn't remember the year he was born, but it was after Andy and just before Quynh; and in any case the calendar has changed over more than a couple of times since then.

He is, in an incredibly unlikely scenario, killed by Andy the first time, because this was way back in Andy's crusading days and there have been plenty of invaders to Albion. They kill each other and dumb chance has one of them getting washed away by a river or something and hey, look at that, no dreams, because technically they have met before. Hardly a meeting to engender the warm fuzzies in any case. Life goes on.

Andy goes back to her wandering.

Watson, after many aimless years believing himself to be cursed to be a walking ghost, watching all the people he falls in love with die, falls in with a leader of men - a truly unique mind - and it lights a spark and gives him a purpose, finally. When the king dies, he makes John swear that he will defend his lands and his people until his last breath, which, you know, might be a while. Watson vows it, and Watson is not a man who breaks promises.

Sometime in the ensuing centuries and far to the east, Andy finds Quynh (or more accurately, Quynh finds her) and oh, hey, those dreams were about an actual person, they're real, Andy is not alone. There is much rejoicing, etc, etc, and Quynh says hey, we might have to go find the other one.

And Andy is like... what the fuck?

So they head back west and lo and behold, it's the damn random soldier that wouldn't quit and got tossed into a river for his trouble. And he's amazed, astounded, enthralled. Well, he is after they've clashed swards a few times; in Watson's defense, he has no idea what the fuck is happening. He's been haunted by weird dreams of a lady getting it on with his murderer for years and, you know, this is centuries pre-Jung, he has no explanation at all for this except that he might be going ever so slightly, benignly insane.

So, anyway. Blood is spilled, then swords are disarmed, explanations are had, amazed, astounded, enthralled etc etc.

Andy says you should come with us.

John, channeling his inner Hobbit two and a half millennia before JRR Tolkien was even conceived offer her a polite thanks ever so much, but, um, no.

Andy's like, what the fuck?

And Watson is like, well, I made a promise, and you don't break promises, do you? I swore to protect these lands and by gum, I'm going to do just that, thank you.

And Quynh says, aren't you bored though?

And Watson just give her a slight smile because at this point he's had three wives and two husbands and has raised innumerable orphans and says well, no. Not really. Wherever I go I find interesting people. Truly unique minds. My king rises again, you see. And so do all my friends. They rise again and again. I see them everywhere, in every genius, every artist, every eccentric who takes a chisel to the universe and cracks it open. They're always there if you care to look. And I swore I would protect them and I'll keep my word, so I will.

Andy looks at him like he's insane, but shrugs and says, well, when you change your mind come and find us, we'll be out there doing some actual good.

And Watson just gives her a little smile and said gods go with you then, Andromache the Scythian. You'll have a hope and a sword arm with me if needed, but otherwise I'm staying right here, thank you very much.

And that's that.

Andy expects Watson to join them eventually. He never does. It drives her fucking mental, which means she respects the hell out of him for it.

Time goes on. Life goes on. Seven husbands and three wives later, Watson meets the new guys. He adores Nicky and Joe - he's known as Galvagin by this period of history, and Nicky and Joe are fascinated by this immortal who has travelled every continent in earth (and married on them), but never wanders. He has a home. He has people who know he's immortal in his home. His spouses all knew, so do most of his children. They keep the secret. He becomes a local cryptid of sorts. Oh, yes, that's just the old soldier's house, ha ha, they say he's immortal, ha ha. And no one ever examines the joke too closely. Besides, some old-fashioned jingoism helps keep the secret too. He's their immortal, isn't he? Proper British and all that. It's not as if he's some foreigner.

The Old Guard come and go through the years. Sometimes Watson will join them on a grand adventure or a fight for a few years, but he'll always head home. Sometimes they'll lodge with him and explore every nook and cranny he knows of the isles. Andy and Watson's relationship becomes strained after Quynh is lost, because look at you, why do you defend them?? But Watson gave his word and he will not break it, even for Andy. What people are without sins, he asks, without treachery and cruelty and ignorance? The Old Guard has helped plenty of pretty shady regimes in their time. They can only be made better, only helped to change. He will search every inch of the coast, he promises, he will chase every rumour and every hint that comes to him. He will sail every boat that might conceivably travel across where she might be. He will try. But he will not leave.

He does help search. But eventually the others, grieving and in despair, must leave again. Watson promises to keep his eyes peeled in the meantime, a solitary watchman.

Watson doesn't see them again - except for letters - until the advent of Booker. He connects with Booker over his grief - oh, how many children has Watson lost! Spouses too! And over an astounding number of stories of unique minds, his resurrected friends, that Watson has found over the years. Watson is himself a very interesting man, and a good storyteller and Booker shares this love of stories. He tells him if he ever needs respite, he can come to Watson's home for a while.

Booker opts to stay with the Old Guard only because he still doesn't like the English very much, and also because running into jobs and missions sometimes distracts from the wailing grief inside his head.

When they finally all meet again, Victoria is on the throne, steam trains are ascendant and Watson has shacked up with another unique mind at 221B Baker Street.

He's an interesting one, Watson, who is now Watson properly on paper. And he smiles. He has found another friend, risen again.

Why John? Andy asked.

Boring, Joe says, who is still somewhat smarting over Joseph Jones.

John shrugs and says: There's enough Johns to make it commonplace, and I'm pretty commonplace. And Watson because, what son am I, where is my father? I do not remember.

Besides, he adds ruefully, no one uses Galvagin these days. No one east of Wales can pronounce Gwalchmei correctly...

(Booker nods in fellow feeling).

And Gawain just sounds pretentious. So... John.

It is a good name, Nicky Smith smiles.

And in the corner Sherlock is losing his goddamn mind because he had a) no fucking idea what kind of mismatched pidgin they are speaking and b) every single logical deduction he tries to make about these people all make perfect sense until they open their mouths and start talking about their lives, and then it's like OUT OF CHEESE ERROR, REINSTALL UNIVERSE AND REBOOT.

The problem with John Watson is that you have to eliminate the impossible, and the marker for that keeps fucking moving.

(Mycroft, on the other hand, as this era's Copley, sweats bullets every time John gets within spitting distance of the Stone of Scone)

[throwingbread]

10 fic for International Fanworks Day. Here are some fics from my bookmarks that need more love, in no particular order.

Those Who Come Closest (30325 words) by dagas isa Chapters: 11/11 Fandom: Final Fantasy X Summary: How do ordinary people become Fayth? It takes a certain amount of desire, dedication and desperation. These are their stories. Propaganda: You want worldbuilding? This fic has got worldbuilding out the wazoo.

Apprentice of the Beast (1651 words) by JetBlackKobold Fandom: Final Fantasy XV Summary: On their journey to the Disk of Cauthess, five men stop to rest and, bound in each other's company, talk a little. Ardyn is a strange man with a fondness for old stories, poems, songs, and rhymes. With a little prompting, he shares a story about a Beast and a Soldier whose good intentions are corrupted by power. Propaganda: Backstory, in Ardyn’s own words.

The Endlings (664 words) by TheBrightestNight Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022), The Sandman (Comics) Summary: end∙ling /εndlŋg/ n 1 the last known individual of a species or subspecies. Once the endling dies, the species becomes extinct. Propaganda: Extinct animal feels.

at the last trumpet (9830 words) by liesmyth Fandom: The Locked Tomb Series | Gideon the Ninth Series - Tamsyn Muir Summary: the line of the Tomb-keepers demands an heir, no matter the cost. Featuring a small-scale genocide, the breakdown of a marriage, an angry ghost of the MILF persuasion, and a normal amount of bones. Propaganda: Yes more worldbuilding. Glorious cursed necromantic worldbuilding.

freedom so liberating that we call it magic (2566 words) by EtchJetty, FlaringK Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: The Legend of Zelda: The Ocarina of Time, The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms, The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild Summary: People don’t talk about Sheik that much. It must have been hell for Zelda, to pretend to be a gender she wasn’t. Especially if she had done it before. (or: what if zelda was a girl?

Propaganda: TRANS GIRL ZELDA

setting sail, coming home (5989 words) by beaufort12 Chapters: 2/2 Fandom: Hades (Video Game 2018) Summary: In which Zagreus escapes the underworld, keeps running, and never looks back. Propaganda: Shameless fix-it fic.

The Moonstone (21266 words) by Vriah, gisho Fandom: The Sandman (TV 2022)

Summary: Morpheus finds a way to avoid killing a vortex - he gives Rose his own heart, forcing her to take his place as Dream. The new Dream has to deal with a life she never expected and try not to repeat her predessor's mistakes. In the waking world, the people she left behind grieve and wonder. And when Roses's little brother Jed is offered the chance to switch from superhero to questing knight, with some help from an old friend, he leaps at the opportunity. Propaganda: My boy Jed!

Lampshades on Fire (5739 words) by ostreatus, stellarators Fandom: Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse (2018) Summary: Or, How Dr. Olivia Octavius Stopped Worrying and Learned to Love the Morally Unambiguous Nature of her Violent Actions. Summary A review of the scientist-to-supervillian pipeline, based on a longitudinal case study.

Propaganda: The villain origin story we were so cruelly deprived of in canon.

built a lot of castles (12055 words) by basketofnovas Fandom: The Old Guard (Movie 2020) Summary: In the eighties, Quynh is rescued by a marine archaeologist, and finds herself in an alien world with no easy way to contact Andromache - or even know she's alive. Propaganda: In which Quynh receives some much-needed comfort in the form of random human kindness.

Inferno Seized (14726 words) by MuseofWriting Fandom: Hades (Video Game 2018)Relationships: Asterius | The Minotaur/Theseus ( Hades Video Game) Summary: The monster went to Tartarus. The hero went to Elysium. Or, depending which storytellers you asked, and which songs you heard, maybe the Underworld got it backwards. Or maybe neither of them were monsters or heroes. Maybe they were just imperfect beings, tied together, messily, terribly, inescapably. This is the story of how they found each other. Propaganda: Look its the most eloquent Minotaur/Theseus fic I’ve ever seen.

[lady-of-the-spirit]

I know it's kinda contrary to the whole point but imagine if Joan's sister also became immortal at the same time as Joan, both assuming the other was buried under all the rubble (iirc?) And just each go their separate ways.

Joan's sister, is, of course, immediately found by and joins up with the old guard.

STOPPPP THAT'S SO SAD OMG (I love it so much)

So continues Joan's curse of having THE WORST LUCK EVER. at this point it's just a joke to her.

Joan got up and left the church, forced to leave her sister behind. Andy was there when Adina (sister) woke up and immediately helped her out, hiding her so no one would see she had come back to life but promising to come back soon. Then of course the rest of the guard come and introduce themselves, their whole deal, and ask if she wants to come with. Adina doesn't have anything to return to. She says yes.

Joan and Adina both going through the "my sister is dead but I'm alive" survivor's guilt NOT KNOWING THEY'RE BOTH ALIVE.

Joan is out there, trying to navigate life as a lonely immortal. Adina is out there, hanging with the guard (having her lesbian awakening because having a gaggle of immortal queers around helps her realize some stuff). Each going on living, but still remembering her sister. Getting miniature portraits painted of the other so they remember...

Joan is doing her best to live a normal life. Adina, never a warrior, still learns to use a weapon from the best. Adina suffers the loss of Quynh just like the rest, losing yet another sister. Joan loses anyone she ever tries to connect with, and keeps on going anyway because what other choice does she have?

Then Booker comes around and meets Joan as in the Joan Universe Canon there are TWO ways this could go: 1) Adina - cursed the same as Joan with Shit Luck - doesn't see Joan in her dreams of Booker, only every other fucking detail BUT that and doesn't wonder about the woman the others see in their dreams of the new immortal. Which means that it takes another 200ish years to reunite, when Nile finally comes around. Joan knocks on their front door, sees Nile, sees her long dead sister who looks like she's the one seeing a fucking ghost. she faints.

2) Adina DOES see her and IMMEDIATELY kicks into gear because THAT'S HER SISTER!!!!! COME ON GUYS WE GOTTA GO TO RUSSIA RIGHT THE HELL NOW!!!! and is basically a one-man army getting everyone to move!!! (And then they don't get to Booker before he and Joan split up and Adina is fucking feral, grabbing poor starving Booker by the shoulders and demanding to know where she went and has to be restrained before she just takes off by herself the minute she gets an answer.)

It's a tearful reunion either way, followed by extremely complicated feelings of being together again after so long. but the sisters are back together again. 💖

[kaydeefalls]

WIP Ask Game

tagged by @what-alchemy - thanks!

Rules: Post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it. Tag as many people as wips.

I am once again restricting this to WIPs that have been touched within the past year, or I'd be listing a whole bunch of ghosts of fandoms past in here. This list...has not changed much since the last time I played this game, to my chagrin, but now featuring more than just TOG fandom! And I should note that one (1) of these currently consists solely of notes to myself and no actual fic written yet but uh have at it anyway.

heartstopper canon divergence

inception au

J/N Firefly

Quynh/Nile ficlet?

cadfael 2 electric bugaloo

who dares wins

Tagging anyone who wants to play, seriously, consider this your excuse!

[druckkugelschreiber]

I have a reincarnation OC for an the old guard fic floating around my brain for a while now and so I'm putting this here so maybe she'll stop haunting me.

Her name is Ezra and she's only a little younger than Quynh and has basically been thirdwheeling Andy & Quynh (and Lykon) for millenia, but she never really got pulled into the polycule because she was just always the emotional sounding board and friend for Andy and just other emotional shenanigans and Ezra never standing up for herself.

So in WW2 they're fighting to take down a concentration camp and Ezra is loosing her immortality. She's known for a few days but not told Andy or the rest of the team and then she gets hot (throwing herself in front of one of the people she was rescuing).

Andy turns back. "Ezra?"

Ezra sunk down against a tree, hand across the rapidly bleeding wound in her abdmonen, her breathing too heavy.

Andy knows deep down what is happening. She knows the pain in Ezra's eyes from Lykon's death, but she doesn't want it to be true. "Come on, we have to go."

Ezra shakes her head. "This one isn't going to heal."

Tears run down Andy's face.

"It's okay Andromache. Go save them. I chose this." [Not only did Ezra chose to fight that day but she chose to throw herself in front of that woman and her child. She chose death in a way because she didn't want to live in a shadow of her own emotions anymore].

Andy has to leave Ezra behind and run as they are pursued by Nazis.

And in the absence of Ezra, as Andy has to mourn another longtime friend, she realises how much she misses the other woman, how many feelings she has for Ezra she never saw especially not after grieving Quynh and Lykon both.

So at one point Quynh comes back and finds out Ezra died and she's like "And you lost Ezra as well?" in reproach because Quynh always loved and protected Ezra like a little sister and is generally angry at Andy (as we all know).

A few years after Nile joins the team, Azriel appears, Azra for short, she's a new immortal, a circus artist who died in a fire and not only does her name remind Andy eerily of Ezra but her eyes, her smile, the way she looks at the world.

Andy is instantly wary, reminded of her old pain and just generally burned out. She's reluctant to open her heart to Azra because of old pain and wounds and because she keeps seeing the ghost of Ezra and how Andy feels she has wronged her and she doesn't want to repeat those mistakes with Azra so she'd rather stay away alltogether.

However Azra has memories of what happened to Ezra (as she is a true reincarnation (there's a really fun science experiment super power backstory there I'm not putting in here) and she's fucking pissed. She's not about to stand back and do one sided pining for like 4000 years. She's here to fuck around and find out.

Andy doesn't know what she's in for.

[dearqueerdeers]

WIP Writing Game

I wasn’t tagged by @non-un-topo but I am doing the game anyways! Titling these as their names in my google docs. which may or may not actually be descriptive of what the fic entails

1. ‘god is your father’ - a mischievous cat causes a 10-year-old Nile to have delusions about ghosts for roughly the next 17 years

2. ‘nicky vamp’ - what if being a vampire were an allegory for being gay but also you are actually gay as well . and repressed about it

3. ‘nile nicky’ - nile and nicky have a no good very bad time together

4. ‘The Aftermath’ - sequel to the above, in which nile and quynh become girlbesties via trauma dumping

5. ‘Steel Blade’ - homoerotic boy besties in 1100 having their first big fight that doesn’t end in killing each other

6. ‘wolfie & silver’ - guy who can shapeshift into a wolf becomes homoerotic boy besties with a shapeshifter cat. also shapeshifting is an allegory for being trans

tagging @lambfromfield and anyone else who wants to do it!! please tag me, I’d love to see what y’all are working on!

[klinw]

a snort left her when he'd complained about his ruined aesthetic. damn nate would be the only one to worry about that at a time like this and it almost makes the situation palatable. almost. quynh hated this. she liked having control of her life. she liked knowing what she was up against. but ghosts? it was a concept she wasn't even able to grasp until the unexplainable events that lead them to this very moment. quynh was very much still trying to find the answers to the questions they had... just in case there was a chance they weren't actually dealing with the supernatural. his invitation to join him in nipping this in the bud did not go unheeded, though reluctantly may she have propped her self up to follow him out with nothing but her usual knives strapped to her. she was much more somber as she walked up to him. "doing something about it just might be what would calm me down. i'm hoping you have a plan?"

"ah, pastilaaaan!" cried nate, voice rising to a shrill pitch. he held his flashlight in one hand, a dagger in another. "i can't take this anymore! i spent so much time on my hair and people just keep on messing it up for me 'cause of that ghost. ugh." he said, "i wish they'd just calm down and actually do something about it. i know i will. are you coming?" he carried with him a bag full of items to drive the ghost away.

[minteagalaxea]

hot . line (p. one) . jy.u

on impulse, she decides to call a hotline to help her get some relief. her experience is much more positive than she thought when the receptionist pairs her with jey. (x)

blood . line (p. two) . jy.u

she's settled into her routine with her phone calls with jey every friday night, content to never meet him in reality. and then that changes. perhaps for the better. (x)

steep (xxviii reasons) . r.r

john's not the best at handling rare teas because he lets them sit for too long. roman happens to excel at handling them. and the rare tea in question? quynh (x)

steep (woo) . r.r

from twenty-five to twenty-eight, quynh learns something new about ghosts. roman happens to be the focal point of those lessons. (x)

[bakingmoomins]

sometimes i open my wip folder and start trembling after seeing a very good concept i came up with and I need to scream for a second because i want to read it but that means I have to write

[elizabeth-mitchells]

I DID IT. I FINALLY FINISHED THE FIC THAT WAS DRIVING ME CRAZY

[andromaquynh-ficrecs]

my heart (is like a haunted house) by @daniwouldnever (ao3 moonflowery)

Summary: My heart is like a haunted house There's things in there that scratch about They make their music in the night And in the day they give me such a fright

Andy, troubled past and full of skepticism, finds herself with an odd job in an old, abandoned, English building. She doesn't believe in ghosts, she doesn't believe in herself anymore, and she's never had a reason to believe in love. And then... there's Quynh.

Rated: Teen Up Audiences | Words: 29898 - Chapters: 13 | Alternate Universe - Ghosts

What i loved: Everything!! the characters are so well written and developed. The mystery. How the story progress in letting us know about Andy story and Quynh story. How it describes Quynh’s feelings and sensations about being a ghost. How Andy and Quynh help each other to heal and falls in love. All the cute moments between them. The teasing!! Soft Andy, caring too much about everyone. Nile being all kind, literally a ray of sunshine and a very good friend. A happy ending, like we deserve ☺ 

[perpetual-trashcan]

Nicolo Di Genova and looking after your new little brother.

Okay this is just a dumb little headcanon I have, spawned partly by this thread  (i rambled in the tags, forgive me) with @sunsetcurveauto.

I have this idea, where Booker has just joined the guard. It’s not long after the last of his family has passed. And it hurts all kinds of different because it was his little boy. His son who he loved more than anything, and its tinged with his son’s fear and anger that Booker can do nothing about.

(I think Booker wouldn’t have kept in contact with the guard, even after he found out about the immortality. At least, until he had no other choice. I think there’s a lot of resentment in those early days because it’s not a gift he wants, and if he can’t fight the choice, then he’ll fight the people who share it with him, especially if they try to tell him it’s okay which some of them are probably likely to do in those early days, trying to starve off panic)

And while Booker travels with them for the most part, he’s a bit of a ghost in the house. He’s withdrawn and quiet, not leaving his room for days, or he’s passed out on the couch, waking with hangovers that don’t last nearly long enough.

The guard have tried to reach him. Nicky is the caregiver of the family and it hurts his soul to see someone so in pain. Both he and Joe have tried to talk to him, soft words that beg understanding but Booker either ignores them or leaves the room with a polite apology. Only twice has he snapped at them and he looked ashamed as soon as the words had left his mouth. But he didn’t stay. Didn’t reach back.

Booker does seem to find some common ground with Andy, having just lost Quynh and knowing his grief all too well. But they don’t talk. They drink and enjoy the silence that comes with each others company. Occasionally Andy teaches him to fight, or shoot because she intends to keep the idiot alive as long as possible until he gets to the other side of this. And it’s during these times that she learns he’s capable of an unfairly funny quip or joke that under no circumstances makes her snort.

But Andy still gets tired. Nicky hasn’t and will not give up on his new brother but Booker is not the only one who needs him. Andy buries her grief just as deep, if not deeper and while there is a mission - and there is always a mission, Booker not included - nothing is allowed to distract her. So Nicky does what he does best, and tries to look after his family.

Sometimes, that’s just making Andy baklava. They’ve travelled with each other long enough that Nicky knows his sister, and while he can’t fix everything, he can do this.

So one afternoon, he comes out to the backyard of their latest safe house while the two of them are training, baklava stacked high on the plate. Booker and Andy are taking a water break and even though Nicky’s been making it more often than not these days, Andy still perks up every time. Nicky has to suppress his smile as he hands it over, talking about how he’s been trying new recipes - it’s not perfect yet, and Andy deserves it to be perfect - and asking suggestions. Booker is quiet at Andy’s side as he always is, just watching the side of her face as she eyerolls and hums her way through Nicky’s rambling.

And then it happens. Andy is shoving baklava in her mouth, somewhere between heaven and bliss when Booker turns his eyes from the side of Andy’s face to Nicky. It’s only several centuries of training and experience that stop Nicky from visibly straightening but his entire being is aware of the fact that for the first time, Booker is looking at Nicky’s face and not down at his own shoes.

And while Booker looks shy and uncertain, there’s an amused twitch to his mouth that Joe swore Andy was making up when she told them about it. And he makes a joke. Or least an attempt at one, teasing that he has a good test subject, that surely Andy has eaten enough Baklava to guess every flavour by now.

And Nicky knows that he’s probably right, even taking away how long Andy has been around. But this is the first time Nicky’s new little brother has spoken to him. Has looked at him. 

 And maybe this, this dumb little joke is how he starts to reach Booker. This is where they start communication. Not with heaviness or grief, but with small moments of humour and joy. Like Nicky had been trying so hard to give Booker in the first place.

The grief will always be there but maybe here is where he can build a foundation to eventually help Booker. And while it’s weak and tenuous, Nicky wants to grab it with both hands. So he does.

Nicky looks back at Booker, mouth twitching back in a soft smirk as he says, “you think so? You want to make a bet?”