#immortal guards au

[kursed-curtain]

For the ask, no1 and no2 immortal guards au.

"Okay, I believe that's enough for tonight," Ken practically slammed himself against the office door, tugging at the neck of his sequined vest.

Matt patted Ken on the back, half reassuring, half mocking, "If the noise was going to be too much for you, why would you let Larry and Kyle choose the music?" He chuckled, slipping off his stilettos to let his soles rest.

Ken groaned, "They're the ones who know the youth best. I just failed to assume that the youth would have such brain-numbing taste."

-+-

Prompt Post

[itty-bitty-sunshine]

Doodle dump ft. Ya girl Vanessa

[baeshijima]

u know what would be a cool genshin fic idea? isekai/transmigrated reader, but instead of appearing within the general timeline, you come into the genshin world 500 years prior to the start of the storyline in khaenri'ah.

honestly it could be either a little before the cataclysm, giving enough time to delve into some relationship building + explore some world building with characters like dainsleif, traveller's sibling (which would probably be lumine bc i actually do like her as abyss sibling & aether as traveller), and npcs like halfdan (still crying over him to this day ;w;) and possibly the khaenri'ahn royal guards (assuming you either join them or have a good enough relationship with them), OR it could be you appear during the crisis, completely and utterly lost as to why you were brought amidst the chaos and bloodshed as you watch everything you barely knew about this nation crumble before your very eyes.

either route will still result in reader's existential crises and constant "why am i here? just to suffer?" monologues because really, who would be fine after going through that after coming from /our/ world? and not to mention you've had to endure the next 500 years wandering with no real set path because you don't know this world— this era of teyvat or of genshin. you're merely stuck, unable to die, and forced to live a life of uncertainty with no clear direction for you to go to.

despite it all, you've at least been able to see dain during this course. while your meetings pass far too quickly for your lonesome, and his solemn demeanour is something you're yet to be accustomed to after having been with him before the fall of khaenri'ah (assuming it's the route where you appear before the cataclysm), you're glad to see a familiar face every now and then. after the messy departure with the lumine who left for the abyss order, you've come to appreciate his quiet presence more and more each time.

and then you decide it might be time to settle. you soon realise it's difficult to do so when your lifespan has become far more than that of a human's — of a mortal's — and so you find yourself becoming used to staying in one place for a few years before setting off for the next. rinse and repeat. over and over. it's come to a point where you've witnessed the nations undergo various changes each time you visit. you know change is inevitable, and yet your heart stings each time you witness it; a testament to how the world is ever-changing, yet you're stuck in place as a bystander.

one thing you're grateful for, however, are the bonds you've established amid your back-and-forth over the centuries. from archons like zhongli and venti to long-life beings such as neuvillette and the adepti to regular mortals who have showed you kindness as if one of their own... you've grown to cherish those memories, often reminiscing them when the nights get too long and surroundings too quiet. it was difficult at first, and still is, but you've become used to the inevitable change and the passing of those you once knew.

and after 500 years, you find yourself face-to-face with one you haven't seen since before you appeared in this world; the protagonist of this world, and the one you eventually join in hopes of finally finding a means to an end, aether.

little side notes/extras:

from /our/ world, you would probably know the storyline from up to around current (5.0) or maybe a little after the fontaine aq conclusion. it gives a lot to work with, but you definitely won't remember a lot of the lore after so long other than some main events, especially since most of your knowledge is pretty irrelevant for the next 500 years,,,

i think it would be cool if you had an inteyvat on your person as a little homage of khaenri'ah, which may or may not invoke some opinions from certain characters (*cough* aether immediately being reminded of lumine and having an existential crisis *cough*)

post-cataclysm you would go through a, uhm, long phase of helplessness, wondering why you were even brought to this world so far back if you couldn't even make any contributions. it does eventually morph into a resolution to do what you can to help those you come across if it's within your capabilities, but the nightmares and helplessness come back every now and then as a reminder for what you can't do :D yippee :D

honestly i'm on the fence whether you would have a vision or some other type of abilities (think on the similar lines of aether/lumine's and dain's), but i think having some type of purification mechanic would be a must in your arsenal !! would definitely lead to some moments between you and characters like dain or zhongli who suffer from the erosion as you give them a slight reprieve from what rages within and corrodes them

a little self indulgent, but i'd like to think your first /proper/ meeting with zhongli happens during a lantern rite festival, wherein you're admiring the lanterns in the sky after making a wish of your own and he comes up from behind with "they're beautiful, wouldn't you say so?" and !!

also as for love interests, as much as i would love for human/mortal characters, a part of me feels like this story would be better suited for the immortal/long-life characters as love interests?? idk i feel like considering that 500 years is, well, a long time, the bonds you would have with them compared to characters like, say, alhaitham or diluc would be way too different ?? though i would definitely still add them as love interest bc i am a sucker for so many of the human characters ;w; it would also add to the angst and hurt/comfort ahahha...

anyway thank you for reading this massive brain dump of a fic bc i absolutely would put this as a long term project, and if u made it this far then i would like to say that dain solos—

[sgt-tombstone]

Old Guard/Immortal AU

I found this in my notes and I can’t remember if I ever posted it here

————

Whenever Johnny had spared a thought towards his own death, he always imagined a dusty desert somewhere in the Middle East, a knife to the throat by insurgents or a stray bullet to the chest in the dead of night.

He never imagined the Channel Tunnel, halfway between England and France, a bullet turning his brain to bloody mush 115 metres below sea level.

He also never imagined waking up again.

———

Simon, Price, Gaz, and Roach all woke up at exactly the same time. It was a rarity, all of them being in the same place at the same time, but Laswell had requested their help, something to do with a human trafficking ring, and Price had never been able to turn his oldest friend down. But human trafficking was the last thing on Simon’s mind as he shot up, the dredges of his nightmare still clinging like thick ink to his mind and skin. As soon as he caught sight of Roach’s eyes across the room, he knew.

Another one. A new one.

“His name is Johnny,” he gasped out, his voice on the edge of rasping panic. Something in his chest flipped at the name; he hadn’t known it until it had slipped out of his mouth, but it felt right on his tongue, even when everything else about the vision felt achingly, viscerally wrong. “Price,” he said, equally breathless, almost a plea. “His name is Johnny.”

“He was shot in the head,” Gaz said, rubbing both temples where the bullet had entered and exited. “Pistol, small gauge. I heard a Slavic accent. Russian, maybe?”

“Underground,” Price supplied. “A tunnel. I saw train tracks.”

“That could be anywhere,” Simon said, shaking his head, attempting to dislodge the inexplicable sense of wrongness. He had born witness to others in the group die their first deaths before. He had seen Roach’s sandy-blond hair catch fire like summer-dried grass, had seen Gaz’s hand slip from a rope as he plummeted from a helicopter to the busy highway below. Neither of them had affected him like this.

Slowly, Roach turned his sketchbook to the group. After his own death, he had become the group’s designated sketcher. He wasn’t the best, but he was leaps and bounds better than anyone else, whose hands were far more used to the heft of weaponry rather than the finesse of artistry. His knack for visualization helped, too. As usual, his sketch of the details he had caught from the nightmare revealed far more than Simon’s spotty detailing or Gaz’s audio clues.

Simon dragged himself from bed and scrambled to snatch the sketchbook from Roach’s hands. His friend didn’t seem to mind; it left his hands empty enough to sign, finally joining the conversation properly. But Simon wasn’t paying attention. He was drinking in the details.

A mohawk. Wide, bright eyes that he instinctively knew were light; green, maybe, or grey. No, blue; he knew they were blue. A strong, stubbled jawline below slightly pouty lips. A headset and tactical vest: military. A Union Jack patch: British, or British-adjacent. A blood type patch: O positive.

A gaping gunshot wound to the head, leaking colorless blood and viscera onto cold concrete.

He didn’t realize he was keening until Price’s hand landed on his shoulder, and he didn’t realize he had clutched the sketchbook to his chest until Roach gently pried it from his grip.

“We’ll find him, son,” Price said, and a glance up into his stubborn, flinty eyes settled something in Simon’s chest. Whoever Johnny was, he was going to be okay. They just had to get to him first.

[zairaalbereo]

When he was young, Joe cast a spell to fall in love with an impossible man to make sure he would never fall in love at all…

But the spell found its goal, and when years later magic brings trouble to Joe’s door, it also brings Detective Nicolò di Genova.

It’s the spooky season once more and so it’s time to rewatch one of my favourite movies. Luckily for me, @gallifreyburning is also writing an amazing Practical Magic TOG AU:

a love even time will lie down and be still for

Read it, it’s beautiful! I can’t wait to see it finished.

[fandomfanservice]

Ready for my Christmas miracle!

It’s been nearly 5 years since we got the first one, read all the comics I can get my hands on and still sequel.

Even Booker’s drank ass would have completed and more importantly released the sequel. Come on Netflix, what’s the hold up

[f1-disaster-bi]

Here you go, the angst you request and some context behind it:

"Lando..." There was panic in Charles's voice. Hands pressed against his stomach, making Lando groan as his eyes flickered open. Something wet hit his face. When he could focus his eyes, he realised it was tears. Charles was crying even as he yelled at Martin to hurry up. Desperation clung to every word. Hurt tinged his voice. Charles's own wounds were healing beautifully, leaving behind only smears of blood and dirt on his face. "It's okay", Lando tried to say, but all he could get out was a horrible sounding whine. "Don't talk", Martin soothed, his own face eerily stoic as he knelt beside them. His shaking hands betrayed what he was feeling, "Save your strength, lieverd" He wanted to wipe away Charles's tears. He wanted to hold Martin's shaking hand. He wanted to take away their fears and pain but he was tired. For the first time in his long life, Lando felt his age as his aching body tried to stutter through the motions of breathing and staying awake. The newest member of their little family hung back with trembling shoulders and horror in their eyes. Too young to really comprehend what was happening despite knowing it in their soul the way the other two did. "All things must die eventually", Lando had told them months ago when confirming that they could die. All things must die, and as Charles begged him to stay and Martin tried to patch him back together, Lando felt himself slipping away in a way that felt permanent. Maybe this time there would be peace.

[sheafrotherdon]

The Unreconcilable Calculus of This (14179 words) by sheafrotherdon Chapters: 3/3 Fandom: The Old Guard (Movie 2020) Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova Characters: Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani, Andy | Andromache of Scythia, Quynh | Noriko, Nile Freeman, Booker | Sebastien le Livre Additional Tags: Love, New Beginnings, Old business, Art, Restorations, Hobnobs, Secrets Series: Part 4 of The Repair Shop AU Summary: A humidor, a jigsaw puzzle, and a chair. A new home, an old colleague, and love.

[andromacheofappalachia]

An Old Guard! AU where Abish Pratt does die in the massacre only to wake up minutes later. She gets taken with the other women not understanding how she is alive, but understanding that she *did* escape death. And every time she escapes from the Shoshone camp she is only reaffirmed that she isn't *staying* dead.

Meanwhile, Red Feather, who already has died several times and assumed he was alone, has a vision of a woman getting her throat slit at the center of a wagon train. He *feels* her die. Watches it replay in his mind. And when he sees that same woman about to get her throat slit he knows that she would just wake up shortly after.

In his mind, they are bound, destined to walk the same path, though he isn't sure what their purpose is yet.

In her mind, well, Abish doesn't know what to do with her newfound immortality.

Bonus: Isaac and Sara end up in the same immortality boat to boot (they end up killing each other more often than they would admit).

[cookiemom6067]

Podfic of "where no one has gone before" by liadan14!

Already standing in his customary position above the captain’s chair, legs wide, arms clasped behind his back, chief of security Nicolò di Genova doesn’t even flinch when Joe walks in. He probably gets up at six on the dot to comb all his hair precisely into place and iron his mustard-yellow uniform. “We’re not actually military, you know that, right?” Joe mutters to him for the second time this week as he slides into his bridge position, which is a sort of casual lean against the first officer’s chair. “I see you’ve forgotten your comm,” di Genova responds, just like he did yesterday. “Again.” Same old di Genova, reliably a shit.

In which The Guard, one of Starfleet’s flagships flying under the unorthodox command of Captain Andromache Scythian, keeps reliving the same Tuesday.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/41243550

[dog1teeth]

i struggled so hard drawing this help me

[captmickey]

Flufftober Day 15 - Laundry Day

"Ken, what on Earth are you wearing?"

"Oh, shut it. It's laundry day."

[negotiumcrucis]

a heart like mine

Joe/Nicky, Omegaverse, Mature (wip)

When Joe’s bag gave way, spilling all its contents on the corridor floor, it took every ounce of willpower not to fall on his knees and weep like a child. Of course, Hana had finally settled down in her carrier, and she continued to sleep despite the crash of a half dozen cans of baby formula hitting the carpet, so Joe merely blinked back unshed tears and took a deep breath, finding his key and unlocking his flat. He left the door ajar as he carefully put Hana’s carrier on the sofa and quickly went back to retrieve the scattered cans.

After the tragic passing of his omega sibling, alpha Joe got custody of his newborn niece. Unfortunately, things weren’t progressing as well as they should and now Joe has found himself in dire need of a wet nurse.

---

read @ ao3

---

I have a new omegaverse wip... please mind the tags and the author notes!

[sgt-tombstone]

Is there more to the old guard AU, please (it’s one of my favorite movies of all time and Hoooooo that was a v good read)

there’s always more to the Old Guard AU dear anon

I actually started to reconsider the dynamic of the group after posting the first part earlier, so consider…

Simon is way more apathetic about Johnny (he still knows that his name is Johnny, but he doesn’t really care). They have a human trafficking ring to worry about; they can’t deal with some idiot halfway across the world who got himself shot in the head. Of course, when their job gets finished, flawlessly as always, Price takes one look at Simon’s clear, wordless plea not to send him after the new kid and promptly sends him after the new kid.

It’s… a rocky start.

Johnny doesn’t understand what’s going on, and Simon isn’t inclined to tell him. It’s basically an attempted kidnapping (following the movie pretty closely, with Johnny protesting about going AWOL and Simon not giving a shit). They fight about it, because of course they do, and when Simon very easily overpowers Johnny with two gunshots to his kneecaps (never his head, never again, he’d subject himself to years of torture to keep a bullet from touching Johnny’s head again), Johnny gives up. It’s a bittersweet victory on Simon’s end. He can secretly admit to himself that Johnny’s passion is… new. Exciting. Attractive.

But he shoves it away in favor of focusing on transporting the new kid to their next safe house, despite his unwavering urge to squirrel him away all for himself, and that’s… concerning, to say the least. He tries to convince himself that he’s just terrified of the sheer chaos that Johnny, Roach, and Gaz will unleash on the world, and he’s almost successful.

Only when Makarov, Johnny’s original killer, comes back to hunt the entire team down, kidnapping and torturing several members in turn, does Simon really confront his own feelings about Johnny, and by then, it might be too late

Anyway, I’d love to do a full write up of the cast of characters and how I see them in an immortal group dynamic (maybe even bringing in Farah and Alex? 👀) so let me know if you’d like to read something like that

[zairaalbereo]

Room for Love — Part 1

So I started a comic!

Room for Love is a TOG modern AU (Joe/Nicky).

Featuring: (sort of) forced cohabitation, snark, idiots in denial, increasingly stupid excuses for s€xual favours, and falling in love.

If you like the sound of this, and want to see it unfold, you can follow this blog for updates. And, of course, reblogs are very much appreciated! ❤️ You can also subscribe to the story on ao3.

Please do not repost the art!

[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)