#andromache of scythia x reader | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

multifandommilfs · 2 months

Text

Our Last Hundred Years

Pairing: Andy x reader

Wc: 2377

Angst, fluff ps sorry Nile

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

It had been long since Andy took off to the pharmacy, way too long. It caused worry to brew in your chest. It was usually after a battle that Andy would stay as close as possible to the team to check in on everyone time and time again. Damn it, you buried your face in your palms, paranoia gnawing at the pit of your stomach. What if another wave of army storms in right now? You grit your teeth in frustration, forcing your mind to listen to Nile and Booker's faint conversation.

The door to the old mine creaked open, natural light pouring in. You leapt up instantaneously, giving your teammates an open palm telling them to wait. One step, two steps, you made sure your gait was light as you unsheathed a knife. Yeah, it could very well be Andy, but at this point, you weren't ready to take any risks.

The door to the open space was a narrow flight of stairs and a blind spot just off to the sight where you hid. Thump, thump, thump came in quick succession. In the darkness, your heart sped, the grip on your blade tightened.

The brown coat was what you saw first which was enough to make you launch at her, encasing her in an embrace with relief. She yelped at the blitz attack, body tensing when your arms wrapped around her neck. "Ow shit." She swore softly when your elbows hit her shoulder and you pulled back quickly. Ow? You hadn't heard that since forever.

"Hey, I'm taking Andy out! Just outside!" You hollered while scrutinizing the woman before you.

"Sounds like a bad date!" A round of snickers came from them, and you rolled your eyes. "Says the person who doesn't have a date."

"Ooh! Burnt!" Nile said, but you were dragging Andy upstairs by her arm, hearing her sharp inhalation was more concerning than her absence. Though it might be undetected when it came to others, you had been with her since the birth of everything, you knew her, you could have her tell you what she held back with a look. That's why your glance at her wasn't returned.

You chose a shrouded spot where greenery thrived.

"You have something to tell me." You said with arms akimbo, but let your features remain lax, so she wouldn't feel so asphyxiated by your demand. Nevertheless, she chewed on her lower lip, eyes meeting yours momentarily before they darted back to the grassy ground. She couldn't tell you about it.

You let out a breath, dropping your hands from your waist. "Andy..." Your fingers tipped her chin up softly, her gaze remained everywhere but you. "Look at me please?" You manoeuvred into her line of sight, luring her eyes to you. It was then that you noticed a sheen of tears gleaming in her irises, the downcast of her lips. "I'm worried, I have been worried, will you please tell me what's wrong?"

She let out a bitter laugh, brows furrowing as the tears thickened, threatening to fall. You had always been her weakness and her strength, but most importantly, you were the one she trusted to ravage her mind after Qunyh.

She had to tell you but her lower lip wobbled in fear even when she was mentally preparing herself. A glance to the entrance of the old mine and around it proved that there were no traces of eavesdroppers, so her gaze trailed back to you.

"I went to get medicine for my wounds." She winced at how indirect she was being but you were listening intently.

"What are you saying?"

"My wounds, i- they-" She squeezed her eyes shut. How could something she had desired for so long become something so dreadful? "They won't heal." Her voice turned into a whisper because even she couldn't believe the fact. Six thousand years she lived, and suddenly her immortality was stripped away by the stab of a knife.

When she peeled open her eyelids, she was met with a deep furrow cutting in between your brows. "T- that's ridiculous, no, no, that's not supposed to happen, Andy, are you sure you're not misreading it?"

"I'm sure." She saw how tears prickled your eyes, with red rims already forming around your eyes.

"Let me see it." You said firmly and scuffed your foot as if you were losing balance. Before she could even reply, you tore the coat off her shoulder, immediately sensing the faint scent of metallic. Your eyes were next to see the damage, red seeping out of the fresh bandage.

"Okay?" She asked, shrugging the coat back up as you staggered back in disbelief.

"No." Your exhale was shaky, and your knees dropped you onto the ground. Six thousand years together and you were left with less than a hundred with her. It was laughable but your mind could only connect to the newest member of the team. Shit has been falling ever since her arrival.

"Is it the girl? Is it Nile? It was yesterday- yesterday when she really accepted herself and today- " Tears gathered in your eyes as you dared a look at her.

"I don't know, darling." Her arms wrapped tightly around her midriff. She paused before her eyes drew to you. "We'll figure it out."

"It's her and you know it! Ever since she came, shit's been going down the fucking hill!" Your voice rose, and Andy glanced at the basement door in nervousness. "Stop it!" She hissed.

"She's leaving." Your demand made Andy's gaze flit to you in shock. "No, that's- she has nowhere to turn to, y/n!" Her voice turned into a yell because you were slamming the door open to the mine, heading straight for Nile with Andy on your tail, shouting something. But you were mad, heart pounding, seeing red, mad.

In a quick motion, you dragged the girl up by her shoulders, slamming her against the wall and yelling something you couldn't hear yourself say. All you could remember was Andy telling you, "It won't heal," and the look in her eyes: fright. It was enough to kick up your defence.

"You did this! You did this!" The words mustn't be yours, your voice was never that raw.

Then you were flying back too fast for your legs to catch up. There was pressure around your shoulders. A sharp pain jabbed the crook of your knee and you kneeled. Andy held you in a vice grip on the ground as you thrashed until you ran out of strength. With wetness on your face, you sobbed as Andy hoisted you into her lap.

"I can't live without you, I don't know how to live without you." You pushed your face into the crook of her neck, breathing raggedly.

"You'll live-" she started softly but you cut her off. "I'll exist! I- I don't live without y- you. I won't have a fucking life, I won't have anything, I can't d-do anything!" Your hands gripped her coat. It was an old coat you got for her, it was one of the first coats that were made, but it was still too new to preserve the memory of Andy when you had thousands of years left to live.

Booker could only comfort Nile and stare at the both of you. He was never really a witness to your emotions, having avoided them after he left his family. But here Andy was whispering something in your ear as you held on as if your life were vanishing before your eyes.

The following weeks were never the same, even after the 'experiment for the greater good fiasco', and Booker's hundred year excommunication. You were pulling Andy out of Nile's proximity in hopes that she'd regain her immortality. Joe and Nicky were well-informed of your feud with Nile. They were all adamant it would blow over, but there came a day when enough was enough.

Today was that day.

"You've got to stop this." Nicky leant against the kitchen counter, a small smile on his lips as you busied yourself with dinner.

You made no sound, moving from the stew to put dirty dishes into the sink. "Am I getting the silent treatment too?" Nicky spun you over by your waist when you passed him so that you couldn't avoid him anymore.

You huffed. "You want me to stop cooking? Fine, you take over." You shoved a ladle in his hands, but he crushed you into a hug. "You shouldn't hurt others because you're hurting."

Your fingers balled up his shirt as your chin adjusted to a more comfortable position. He swayed a little, arms tied around your waist. "It isn't Nile's fault that Andy is now a mortal."

"It is, I think it is. You would do the same if it were Joe."

"For a while, yes, I would presume. But you cannot create an answer to an unanswerable question. Nile is not the answer y/n. There is no answer to why we lose our immortality."

He heard you sniffle. "The stew is boiling." You pulled away slowly, putting out the flame and moving to wash the dirty dishes.

"Okay?" He asked when he joined you, pulling you in to kiss your cheek before taking his fair share of dishes. You looked at him, teary-eyed, letting yourself work automatically. "What happens if I don't know? Andy, she's out there right now, with Nile and Joe, and-" you grabbed the kitchen knife, slathering it with dish soap.

"And- I can't function. It's not like I will die but how do you function with the knowledge that you'll lose everything in the next few decades? Not even a century, just five or six decades and she'll-" The blade slipped, cutting your finger as you hissed in pain, garnering Nicky's attention to your wound. Blood seeped out of it, a sight you've seen a thousand times.

Just then, the house bustled with energy as they barged in. Andy and Nile laughing at Joe's joke as they dumped groceries onto the table. Your attention was diverted, and the pain subsided when you had to catch rolling apples and oranges before they hit the ground from the toppled paper bags.

"Watch your head." Andy said softly, resting her hand on the edge of the table when you ducked out from beneath the table.

And you had to savour her affections when there was not enough time to accept them absentmindedly. She saw the exhaustion on your features, the worry that was wordlessly telling her to stop caring about you so that you wouldn't have to miss her that much.

Frustration built up in her, she wanted to care with the time she had left. "Come here for a second?" She requested.

You wasted no time in avoiding her, heading in Nile's direction. God knows you owed her some clarity even if you didn't forgive her.

It was a split second touch, Andy's fingers slipped to yours and you winced in pain. "Fuck!"Your hand was now cradled in another, close to your chest.

The chit-chatter dropped in an instant, everyone's heads creaked in your direction like a nightmare, their widened eyes hovering. "Fuck." You whispered under your breath when you understood the situation.

Then, unexpected to yourself, a sliver of happiness curled up your lips just when everyone started panicking and crowding around you.

Andy was gripping your hand as blood slipped from your finger to touch the back of her palm, leaving a trail of red. Nile, in shock, was left behind when Nicky and Joe, with worry present in their expressions, mumbled something, then closed their eyes, praying and begging for your wound to heal. But it wasn't healing, not in the least when Andy's grip tightened and more blood seeped from the cut.

You were smiling, lipless, as your eyes drifted to Andy's frustrated ones, and you wondered if that was the expression you were wearing when she became mortal.

"I'm sorry." Nile said aloud but it only caught your attention. You turned to her, remembering her pariah because of your doing. "I mean, it's me, isn't it? I'm doing this, I'm causing all your... immortality, I'm..." Tears surfaced in her eyes. "I'm killing you guys."

"No- no. No, Nile, you're not killing us, and you shouldn't be sorry." You paused, glancing at Nicky for affirmation he granted. "I am the one who should be sorry for making you the answer to an unanswerable question. So I'm, I'm so sorry, Nile, for casting you out of our family." You breathed, ignoring the tickle of pain on your finger, and continued. "Being a grownup, I expected more of myself than to outcast a fellow soldier, and I know you do too. I was emotional and irrational during the unexpected. So I owe everyone an apology." You let your gaze linger on each member of your family, your troop, "I'm sorry, Nile, for not treating you the way I should've. Nicky, Joe, I'm sorry for having both of you in the middle of my problems. I'm sorry, sweetheart, for not being more accepting of your change."

Tears dripped down Nile's cheeks. "Thank you. Thank you for that apology." She gritted out through her emotions, wiping away her tears on her sleeve. Nicky and Joe gave you a watery laugh of relief while Andy's nails dug lightly into your wrist, reminding you of your wound. "So, um, I'm mortal." You shook your head in disbelief. "What do I do?"

"Well, first of all, don't outcast me again." Nile said, and you broke into watery laughs.

"No, I won't." You assured her, then turned to Andy, her sad eyes desperately searched yours, tears filling up. "What do we do?"

"We die." You gave her a soft smile. "We get our dream, and we die, together. And when we do," you swivelled over to the rest of your team momentarily. "You make sure to bury us together in the same grave, six feet deep, or I swear I'll haunt your asses until you die. And god knows how long that'll take."

Wet laughter filled the room. Andy took her bottom lip in, nodding in acceptance. "That's the best plan I've heard in six thousand years."

#charlize theron x reader #charlize theron #the old guard #andy #andromache of scythia x reader #andromache the scythian x reader #andromache the scythian #andy x reader

72 notes · View notes

acupofqueercoffee · 1 year

Text

“With her sweetened breath and her tongue so mean”

Andromache the Scythian x Witch Reader

gif ▸ queen-shuri ( i don’t know how to link a gif ㅠㅠ )

request ( found here ) by @nightly-polaris

i left her powers to your imagination though i did play around with the idea of them being soulmates. wow it did take me a while. this was harder to write than i thought. frankly, i’m not very pleased with it. i went too long without writing and i feel like i’m getting rusty. i just hope that i managed to do your idea justice 🥹

(=^･ω･^=) leonora the cat made a cameo appearance

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

Myriads and myriads of millennia. That was how long the Scythian had been walking the earth. There was not a corner of this world where her soles had not touched. Many a time had the sky borne witness to her downfalls, and thereupon, her immediate beginnings. Throughout her journey as an immortal, she had seen it all, privation, plenty and everything in between. The wonders and weirdness of the world could no longer provoke in her a sensation that would otherwise have six thousand years ago.

Regardless of her very old age that could have her certified as a living fossil, and the boundless knowledge that she had collected throughout her very long life making her a walking encyclopaedia, there existed many mysteries that even Andromache had yet to see. Amongst them, magick was a concept that still remained foreign to her; therefore, a threat. Unfamiliar though it was, it was not entirely unheard of. After all, she herself had been caught in the crossfire while trying to free the accused from the witch trials. In the end, they were just that: accused. There ended the extent of her experience regarding witchery or anything supernatural for that matter.

The only occult phenomenon that she knew to be bona fide was their immortality. The rest was sham. That was, until her team notified her of the all too familiar dream. Until a family of four bar Quynh and Booker, became a family of four, plus a hazardous, peculiar individual.

━━━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━━━

The arcane parts of you that had remained concealed for the better part of your life had only recently come to light when you unfortunately faced your demise.

The cause of your death had been as good as silly, slipping on a wet tile and cracking your head open on the edge of your bathtub, but it had shed light on an important piece of information nonetheless.

One second, you were dead, and the next, you woke up in a pool of your own blood. To you, who had been revealed to the bombshell of an information about a week ago, that you were a witchling, you were just in assuming that it was part of your newfound identity.

However, on the following day, with the arrival of a mysterious woman on your doorstep, your life was turned upside down. Going with her had not been of your own free will, having been meticulously knocked unconscious and finding yourself on an unfamiliar bed upon awakening.

The root of your sudden perturbation stemmed from the absence of Leo, a majestic Somali cat with gorgeous red mane that resembled a smaller version of a fox. She had been your greatest companion long before you had been made aware that she was your familiar. It appeared that the bond between a witchling and her familiar became only stronger once a witch unlocked her true potential. Only when a fluffy ball of scarlet hopped onto your bed could you calm.

In addition to, quite frankly, the charismatic complexity of a woman that you eventually learned named Andromache, you met three other people; Nile, who looked the closest in age to you, Nicky who had the kindest face out of the four, and Joe who appeared the most laid-back. All five of whom, four who you had just met, and the remaining one who, as explained by them, was away to carry out his punishment, were not entirely unfamiliar to you. You had seen them in the dream that had sought you right after your very first’s death.

Regardless of your non-involvement in being here, the decision to remain here was done of your own free will, reached by not only your instinctual feelings but also the support of Leo. Growing up alone, you had no one to miss you, and no one to be missed by you. It seemed sound to stick with those as peculiar as you were, than to stick out like a sore thumb amongst the ordinaries, or so you had believed.

Oh, how terrible of a mistake you had made by assuming that being immortal would make you the same as them, or them the same as you.

Although the others welcomed you warmly, making you feel at home as best as they could, your confession about your true being was not received kindly by Andy as the others called her. In fact, even the nickname was a privilege that was beyond your reach.

“That’s Andromache to you.” so she had corrected, lips the very picture of a straight line, when you had made a slip of your tongue.

Being forced out of slumber one night by a curious dream, similar in kind to the one you had on your death’s day, led you to seek the group with a question in mind. No sooner had you set foot in the room than the Scythian made herself scarce without so much as acknowledging you.

“Andy, albeit not being the most open person, can be ridiculously protective of her team. You are now one of us which means that she cares.”

“Humans harbour fear of the unknown. Even Andy cannot be entirely immune to it. Give her time.”

“She’ll come around. Take me for example. I had been killed once, beaten to a pulp, and had my bones broken by that woman, all of which transpired within the same day.”

Despite the reassurances from Joe, Nicky, and Nile, you would rather she kill you than disregard your existence altogether. Her aloofness stung you all the more for you felt oddly, albeit rather profoundly, connected to her.

You wanted to believe that it was time she needed, and time, you gave her, but when you were being actively avoided by her like you were the very plague, it only made sense that your tolerance would eventually run thin.

Unlike the Scythian along with Joe and Nicky who had been protecting humanity for centuries, and Nile who used to be a marine, you lacked experiences when it came to being a warrior. Additionally, being a witchling meant that you were a complete novice in magick. During one of your first missions, due to an error on your part, you had hindered your team by causing their unnecessary deaths.

You were not oblivious to the fact that the Scythian’s immortality had reached its end. In fact, it was by dumping all your attention onto the woman that you had not a dot to contribute to your part of the task. Although the mistake was borne of your all consuming concern for the Scythian’s safety, appreciation was the farthest thing from which you ended up receiving.

“Andromache, I keep having this dream of a drowning woman. Is she someone like us?”

When you had brought the question to her with a flimsy hope of instigating communication, sapphire green eyes had coldly held your soft-eyed gaze.

“There is no us.”

Such had been her words, thickly laced with venom that it rendered you absolutely crestfallen.

Thereafter, you were left alone in the room along with your question neglected. The answer to which was being delivered to you presently in what you could only describe as the most unkind fashion.

“You wanna know who that woman in your recurring dream is? That’s Quynh and if I could, without question, I would trade you for her. You should be the one locked up, not her. Quynh isn’t a witch. You are!”

“I- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-“

“Every day, I worry over whose immortality will be stripped away next now that you’re in existence. What use are your abilities when you can’t even make good use of them? A hazard to the team. That is what you are! Nothing but a liability.”

Razor-sharp and poison-bitter, her frankness certainly did a splendid job of maiming you.

Despite not only being shunned, but also having your sorry little heart wounded by the very kingpin of the team, withering was the last thing that befell you. If it did, you were doing a good job of putting up a front, fragility hidden behind a tough facade.

You trained more. You smiled more. Always so cheery, always so carefree until one day, a relatively trying mission brought about the shattering of the mask that you had painstakingly put in place.

“Have I done something wrong? Why does she loathe me so?”

Having been bursting at the seams with bottled up emotions, it was no wonder that your heart reached its breaking point.

“I can’t. I can bear it no more.”

An endless leakage of tears marred your features as you came apart at the seams, revealing to the team the depth of the wound the Scythian’s coldness had burned into your psyche.

━━━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━━━

You were different as they were but at the same time, you were different from them altogether. The Scythian had her suspicions to begin with when, after swiftly sketching the picture of the one who had visited their dream, Joe had handed her the book in which a familiar face stared eerily back at her.

Losing her immortality meant that she was no longer privy to these interconnected dreams. However, there was no mistaking the face that had been plaguing her dreams for years. Andromache did not know what it suggested for them, and it was disconcerting to say the least. Then, once the fact was made known that you harboured powers beyond immortality alone, with her suspicions solidified, you were deemed a threat.

As was with Nile, there, too, was a strong possibility of you coming to be at the cost of one of the veterans’ immortality. The staggering awareness that it could very well be Quynh was a bitter pill to swallow. It did not make it any more palatable that Quynh was unfairly accused of being a witch, and locked up in the bottom of the ocean for centuries upon centuries only for a real witch to take her place.

If her rationality had not been muddled by stress, and the deeply rooted guilt and resentment of having to lose Quynh, she would see that her judgement about you had been done with extreme unfairness. Cruelly subjective instead of reasonably objective.

In the end, Joe and Nicky had to play the role of an eye-opener.

“What’s wrong with you, Andy? You’re being unreasonably cruel to the kid.”

“She proved hazardous to the team.”

“She is a part of the team!”

“She’s not entirely like us.”

“That’s absurd!”

“I lost my immortality upon Nile’s arrival. Quynh is next in line. What if she-” Brushing her palms over her face, a sigh was heaved into the cocoon of her hands. “The innocent has to suffer while the guilty takes her place? Don’t you think it’s unfair?”

Joe levelled her with a glare that screamed incredulity while both of them sounded truly disappointed.

“My god, Andy, are you hearing yourself?

“Where is the Andy I know who’s endlessly caring to her people?”

“Your anger is dreadfully misplaced. It is those pea-brained bastards that should be rightfully crucified, not an innocent kid.”

Even amidst being chastised, Andromache could not help but be awed by the couple as they effortlessly supported each other.

“You’ve been nothing but, to be brutally honest, a heartless bitch towards her, and yet, she’s always been heedful of your safety. Despite her lack of experience, the kid’s been tirelessly pushing herself. Can you not really see? Or, did you blatantly choose not to?”

“The way you treat her is cruelly unfair. You know it to be true. You can’t tell me otherwise. Whether she is a witch, or- or say, a vampire, or whatever the hell she is, she’s irrevocably one of us.”

“Poor kid’s devastated by your actions. You would do well to own up to your mistakes and ask her for forgiveness.”

Slowly but surely, the Scythian was beginning to see the errors of her actions, but it was only after having been knocked some sense into her by her very family could she truly grasp the extent of her callousness.

And thus, she came seeking you, a mission that was accomplished rather swiftly.

The sight that she had walked in on forced her to a stop. Keeping herself hidden behind a wall, she was caught off guard by a pang of…perplexity, she decided to name for now, that started pounding against her ribcage.

You were locked snugly in Nile’s arms, face buried in her chest as you dissolved into tears. Seeing you so broken, and knowing that she was undeniably the culprit behind your suffering did something inexplicable to her, but when the pang only intensified, her mind was transported back to a period of time many many moons ago. She had found the amour who she was particularly fond of mingling with someone else, and needless to say, it had not sat well with her.

The green-eyed monster had taken possession of the Scythian then.

Now, the same monster was knocking on her door, bringing with it an unpalatable sensation.

Confused and overcame with labyrinths of emotions, Andromache who had never, in her immortal life, willingly backed down from a challenge experienced her first surrender. Incapable though she was to approach you, the Scythian’s night was spent fruitfully as she dissected her puzzling reaction.

By morning, the puzzle was solved, and her feelings, understood. The pang of perplexity, as it so happened, turned out to be a pang of jealousy, followed closely by guilt and something else entirely that she was not yet ready to admit out loud.

The question however was, had she been too late in realising her mistakes, and thereupon, her feelings?

She had every intention of talking things out with you, but the sudden emergence of a mission compelled her to put it on hold.

Joe and Nicky took care of driving, and as much as she disliked seeing you stick to Nile the entirety of the ride, she knew that she had no rights interfering. For that, she had but herself to blame.

━━━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━━━

Raining down around Andromache in a violent downpour were bullets. None of them were offered a chance to reach her, for as she fought with her foes, her team had taken it upon themselves to guard her. They were playing defence while she did the offence. Although at first, their strategy was working remarkably well, as the troops multiplied on the opposing side, their stance faltered.

Being a burden to her team was the last thing she wanted, and having had enough of her team suffering in her stead, she took off from the formation, aiming instead towards the enemy line with her beloved labrys in hand. At her lead, her team followed suit, coming to grips with the enemy team. They covered her, as one after another, the opponents were annihilated by the Scythian’s effortless execution.

Everything had been working in their favour until, all of a sudden, Andromache found you planted firmly in her way. Although, if only for a moment, she was confused, she learnt just as quickly that a bullet had found home in your flesh. A moment later, and her axe, too, found sweet purchase directly between the eyes of your aggressor. Together, you made light work of defeating your opponents. As you kept them restrained with the help of your powers, she delivered finishing blows.

Between using your powers to assist her in combat and taking damages for her should the assaults were to prove lethal, one too many times had you use yourself as a shield. As a result, your body was riddled with many an injury which the Scythian noticed were taking longer than necessary to heal. Through the wounds leaked blood, and it made Andromache nauseous with worry.

What she perceived next, she heard it first, before she saw it. A loud bang of a gun that sounded from behind you.

Almost instinctively, her hands found home on your hips, soft flesh yielding beneath her calloused fingers as she quickly did a swap of positions. If a bullet were to hit, it would be her instead of you. The inevitable pain, which she was bracing for, never came. She understood why by the time her eyes fell on you. Tendrils of glowing green were dancing to your fingers’s desire as a protection was conjured around the pair of you.

The mission, once again, accomplished, she took the time to admire the delicate blossom of a smile on your lips. A feeling that quickly dissolved into worry upon hearing the little whimper that escaped them. By the time your eyes slipped shut, and your legs gave out, with her heart in her throat, she caught you in her arms.

━━━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━━━

The shock Leonora the familiar felt upon seeing you in the Scythian’s arms only continued to crescendo when you were carried not into your room, but, hers.

“She isn’t healing. Why isn’t she healing?”

The question was evidently for her, and so, she answered.

“Immortality doesn’t grant her immunity to damage done by her mate. A mate’s rejection to a witch is quite possibly the most harrowing form of torture. It leads to deterioration of the body.”

Her response took a while to come. “How can I find them?” Leonora eyed the Scythian curiously as plethora of emotions flashed across her face before the words were hissed through gritted teeth. “Her mate.”

“A witch’s familiar cannot be understood by just anyone. Only her true mate can.”

“What are you implying?”

“You’ve been seeing her in your sleep, have you not? Long, long before her immortality came.”

By the way she was looking at her, sage green eyes shimmering with shame, she almost felt bad, emphasis on almost, because in the end, she did not shy away from rubbing salt on her wounds.

“Given your time on this earth, I had surely believed that you would know better than to jump to conclusions. I’ve overestimated you, it seems.”

“My time on this god-forsaken place is precisely why I can’t trust people outside of my team. On more than one occasion have I been led to plight by pity and my sense of duty. Some of which have caused me my comrades.”

“And you thought it wise to reject one of your own?”

━━━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━━━

“I fucked up, I know. But I don’t want to fuck up any more than I already have.” The Scythian’s voice was laced with genuine upset as she pleaded with your cat, eyes desperately beseeching. “So, tell me, please. How can I fix this?”

“There are quite a few things you can do. That said, physical contact with her mate is the easiest and the most effective way for a witch to replenish her energy. I would strongly advise cuddling.”

Thus landed the Scythian into her bed that was presently housing your unconscious frame.

Only now, as she was lying face to face with you, did she realise how little she had looked at, let alone appreciated, you.

Tentative fingers touched a cheek so soft to unveil your face curtained by a few strands. Battle-hardened though they were, they executed the task with tremendous tenderness.

The scars that her eyes discovered upon wandering down your neck had the effect of jogging her memory. With the long forgotten memory now dug up and on the forefront of her mind, she was transported back in time.

During one of her travels, she had chanced upon a house on fire. Even though, normally, she would avoid involvement in fear of exposing herself, and consequently, her secret, she felt compelled to enter the roaring flames. What, or rather, who she found was a little girl trapped inside a room. Instead of crying as any child in such predicament most likely would have, she was busy murmuring reassurances to the little kitten that was cradled protectively in her tiny little arms. There was no doubt that she was in intense pain if the wound that had been leaking blood on her neck was any indication.

Now that she thought about it, the familiar dreams began on the very same night. It had been so dark in the house that she did not get a chance to properly see your face. Nevertheless, your cat was right. Andromache should have known. If she had only taken the time to think carefully instead of rushing to conclusion, all the suffering would have been spared. After all, in all the dreams that she had of you, you had never so much as harmed a hair on an ant’s, let alone, a person’s head. How big of a nitwit had she had to be to harbour the thought that you would be capable of intentionally sabotaging them.

With your face as sweet as Baklava and your heart so golden, you had to be the quintessence of innocence, pure, unsullied white, sent into her life to remind the Scythian, who was tainted with darkness and death, that the world was not only teeming with war and wickedness. In contrast, she had to be the wickedest of them all to be able to trample a delicate little bud without giving her a chance to prove herself.

She had, Andromache admitted, oh so cruelly, snuffed out the little shimmering ray of light. Come hell or high water, it was now the Scythian’s duty to chase away the heavy, stormy clouds that were threatening to devour the little sunshine.

If you were to allow it, she would, in fact, declare you her sunshine.

━━━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━━━

Meanwhile, feeling rightfully smug, Leonora the cat revelled in having her head scratched as the ginger fur-ball lounged in Nile’s lap.

She might have made a drama out of a crisis while playing cupid, but what she had said, in her defence, were not entirely incorrect. She would be a fool not to make the most of a stellar opportunity if it meant making her best pal happy. After all, unlike you who was annoyingly upright, she was a firm believer that if used wisely, trickery always bore the sweetest of fruits. Plus, if you finally found someone to cuddle with, then, she would hopefully, thankfully be spared the odds of being squeezed to death.

And viola! If love was on your side and luck on hers, you would win yourself a girlfriend, while she got to experience freedom. It might just be the best example of killing two birds with one stone, if Leonora did say so herself.

━━━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━━━

Waking up to a muscled body pressed against yours, and strong arms cocooning you, you had half a mind to believe that it was a by product of your sleep-ridden mind.

Only when you heard Leo’s voice in your head did you realise it was in fact not a hallucination.

“You really don’t have to do this.” Unlike your utterance, your actions suggested otherwise. As if possessing a mind of its own, your face had sought solace in the warm dip of her throat. When you spoke again, it was but a murmur. “I’m aware that you love Quynh.”

Her reply came a moment later in the form of a merciless stab to your heart. “I won’t lie to you. I do love Quynh.” Your endeavour to escape from her embrace was doomed to failure. “But, it is no longer the kind of love that I felt once upon a time. Loving her doesn’t equal falling in love with her.”

“It was hard, losing Quynh, and I don’t think I’ll be able to forgive myself.”

You were wounded, and thereupon, healed by her words. The choice, essentially, lay in her hands.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to forgive myself either if something were to happen to you.”

She coaxed your face out of its little haven in favour of her soft-eyed gaze roaming over the planes and hills of your face.

“You must have felt scared. Lost. I was supposed to be there for you.”

In addition to the collapsed eyebrows, her voice had a sad lilt to it as a thumb gingerly caressed your cheek.

“I know a simple sorry cannot fix all the pain I’ve caused you, but if you’ll let me, I truly wish to earn your trust.”

Since the mood had been too gloomy to your liking, you opted for a lighter, more benign route with your response.

“Now, now, Andro-“

“Andy, please. Call me Andy.”

“Andy.”

Her name tasted sweet on your tongue.

“You were saying?”

“-someone might think you’re trying to woo me.”

You came dangerously close to disclosing your desire, and if you were being honest, you had been entertaining the idea of confronting her after your facade fell in front of the team. It was an all-or-nothing decision.

After everything she had said and done, you would be lying if you said you were not hoping for her to ruthlessly reject you. At the same time, saying that you were not foolishly hoping for her to miraculously return your feelings, too, would be a downright falsehood.

“What if I am?”

In the end, it was neither foolish nor impossible, though, it did feel miraculous all the same.

You liked her. Tremendously. And although it was true that she had hurt you, you knew for a fact that her reason for doing so was not ill-intentioned. It was done out of worry for her team, and blaming her for it would be ludicrous. You did admit that she had been terribly unkind to you, but you knew that she was altruistically caring at heart. Not only could you feel it, you liked her too much to deem the errors of her way irreparable. Mistakes came to be in the first place as an opportunity for one to learn from them. You were all to willing to give her a chance.

“Well then, Andromache of Scythia, luckily for you, I’m not very hard to please.”

“Kiss me as much as you’re sorry, and I’m all yours.”

You watched, giddy and gleeful, as a smile bloomed on her handsome face.

“With pleasure.”

Fanning the flames of heart palpitations by bombarding one with kisses, as sweet, and soft as soufflé, should be included in the ever-growing list of ways she knew how to kill a man. Of course, she was allowed to use this delightfully tantalising technique on you and you alone.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

this is how i imagine leo would look like as a cat

700 notes · View notes

youvebeenlivingfictional · 6 months

Text

Kinktober Day 28

Day Twenty-Seven | 🌹Kinktober Masterlist🌹 | Day Twenty-Nine

Pairing: Andy (The Old Guard) x Reader

Rating: Explicit - 18+ Only. Any minors interacting with ANY of these Kinktober prompts will be blocked

Warnings: Intercrural Sex/grinding; nipple play; fighting; light degradation

“Get up.”

Andy’s words were harsh as they cut over your head. You winced, rolling from where you’d landed on your back on the training room floor to push yourself onto your hands and knees.

“Come on,” Andy snapped. You drew yourself up, rolling your aching shoulders back.

“Are you always this agreeable?”

“Being agreeable will get you killed.”

“Only temporarily.”

You managed to duck out of the way of Andy’s ongoing punch, catching hold of her wrist and dropping to your knee, using the leverage to send her sprawling to the ground. She sprung forward, tackling you to the ground. You groaned, your breath knocked out of you as she shoved her knee between your thighs, pressing her forearm to your neck. You struggled, pushing your hips up against her, trying to unseat her, and thrilling in the throb that you felt as you ground against her. She pressed down against you a little harder, her face twisted into a sneer as you reached up, shoving at her shoulders as her thigh flexed against you.

“Is that all you’ve got?” She taunted. You grunted in irritation, then let out a yell as you planted your foot on the floor, using all of your might to roll the two of you over. You grasped Andy’s wrists, pinning them beside her head. Andy’s chest heaved from the exertion, her smile growing slowly as she nodded.

“That’s better,” She murmured. “Just remember—if you wind up like that again, try not to grind against their thigh.”

Your eyes widened in shock, your face going hot with embarrassment. You began to reel back, but the second you let go of Andy’s wrists, she curled her arms around your waist, stilling you.

“Did you think I wouldn’t notice it?” She added, pushing herself up, her lips brushing against your sweat-streaked neck, “Fucking yourself on my thigh like that?”

“I was—I was trying to—”

“Trying to what?” Andy’s hands smoothed over your sides, stroking the exposed skin between your sports bra and your sweatpants, “Trying to be subtle? You failed miserably.”

“Andy.”

“Mm,” She nuzzled up against your jaw, bending her knee and pressing her thigh between your legs. You shivered, pressing down against it before you could stop yourself. She hummed encouragingly, urging, “Think of it as your reward.”

“For what?”

“Kicking my ass,” She chuckled. “Go on.”

You hesitantly rolled your hips down against her, moaning softly as the sensation made your clit throb. Andy’s hands slid to your hips, grasping them and drawing you down against her thigh more harshly. She nipped your jaw, chuckling softly against the stinging skin as you raised your hands to grip her short hair. You lowered your head, catching her lips in a messy kiss. You slotted your knee between her thighs, pressing it forward, and thrilling as Andy groaned against your lips.

You made no argument as she rolled you onto your back, grinding more forcefully against your knee. The two of you arched and shoved your hips against one another. You reached down, yanking down the front of her shirt and bra before leaning up to draw her breast between your lips. You moaned against her, swirling your tongue around the hardening bud as your hips drove up against her.

“Can you cum just like this?” She pants. “Riding my thigh like a good little slut?”

Your head fell back, your hand raising to tease and stroke her slick nipple as you peered wondrously up at her. You nodded, licking your lips as she drove her knee against you.

“Can you?” You countered. Andy smiled, catching your lips with hers before murmuring, “Cheeky little girl.”

Your mouth fell open in a soft laugh, turning to a moan as Andy’s pace picked up. The dampened seam of your leggings pressed harshly against your cunt, sending you closer and closer. You whined as you arched up against Andy, riding out your high as she fucked her hips down against you. She leaned back after a few moments, chest rising and falling as she got a better look at you. You gazed up at her, trailing your fingers gently over her nipple, then giving it a soft tweak.

‘C’mon,” She urged as she stood, tucking her breast away. You frowned, propping yourself up on your elbows.

“What?” You asked dumbly.

“We’re not done.” She took a couple of steps back, brows raising. “You beat me this time, I’ll let you fuck me properly.”

She grinned as you scrambled up off of the floor.

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @phoenixhalliwell ; @wild-rose-35 ; @daisyslibrary ; @informally-liz ; @andrastesflamingtitties ; @muchacha-encabronada ; @nerdygirl0414 ; @elen-aranel ; @ohbee-whatcanyoube ; @kmc1989 ; @quietpainter ; @thedreadandthefugitivemind ; @kaletastrophes ; @nyx2021 ; @thatesqcrush ; @adarasforest ; @s-u-t ; @silversprings-mp3 ; @senawashere ;

#Andy (The Old Guard) x Reader #Andromache of Scythia x Reader #Andromache of Scythia x You #Andy (The Old Guard) x You #Kinktober #Kinktober 2023

82 notes · View notes

annie-creates · 1 year

Text

New Year's Eve

Pairing: Andromache of Scythia x reader

Genre: fluff

Words: 800

Note: Happy (late) New Year to you too! I wanted to celebrate with something special, so I chose the character there's allarmingly too little of fics for. Hope you'll like it!

Andromache has seen many New Year’s Eves. Thousands of years worth of colorful lights and celebrations. Dozens of decades of resolutions and traditions, some of which disappeared already. The celebrations have evolved during her time on this earth exponentially. Nowadays it was a big deal. People bought bundles of fireworks, recorded commemorative videos and kissed loved ones right on the midnight.

To her it was just another commercial bullshit. A scheme designed to rip you of your money and generate profit. She couldn’t care less about sparklers, candles and cute sparkly outfits for a party. It was just another day for her, not different from the millions she already lived.

Yet lately things started taking a new turn in her life. It all started with you. A girl barely on the doorstep of adulthood whose life was taken too soon. Or so they thought. You were given another chance, a chance to take immortality and do the best you can with it. Looking for you took them months. Months of torturous dreams of a beautiful young woman dying. But they found you. In the end they always find each other, whatever it takes.

Andromache didn’t see you as anything more than a baby. A toddler compared to the length of their lives. What was over twenty years for you they could pass in a blink of an eye. That’s what happens when you live for hundreds of years. Your youth and naivety annoyed her. Your bright sight of the future and hopeful dreams angered the old Scythian. She couldn’t wait for the reality of the world to crash your hopes and dreams. For you to realize it was actually a helpless cruel place. One you could describe as hell even.

She hated the way you made everyone happier. As if you brought in the breath of fresh air, the youthful life they all forgot how to live. It showed her there are things she can’t provide for her team. She kept everyone safe, warm and sane for the most part. But even as the mighty leader there were things she couldn’t give. And to have someone, just a nobody and newbie like you, walk in and give it without expecting anything in return was a punch in her pace. A bitter pill to swallow.

Everyone knew you were a pain in their ass. You talked too much. You sang in the shower. You danced while making breakfast. You were addicted to your late night tv series. And yet they couldn’t imagine giving you back up. They’d fight for your life with their own. They never let any harm go your way. Maybe they also saw you as just a naïve child, needed to be protected from the real world outside. Her team warmed up to you and she could do no other, for the team is one and one is part of the team.

So Andromache studied you. She observed your interests, habits and hobbies. The books you liked to read, the kind of music you put on when you were left alone or the side of bed you like to sleep on. She analyzed and examined you. And with every new discovery she had to admit she too liked you the tiniest bit more. Your personality was really hard to stay angry with. Even when you messed up, she couldn’t be mad at you for more than a day. Especially when you made pancakes for breakfast to make up for your mistake.

That’s how she found herself agreeing to the crazy idea of buying fireworks for your first New Year’s Eve with them. Even when she wasn’t completely comfortable with the idea, it wasn’t the most stupid one you’ve had, so it seemed relatively safe. She of course didn’t let you anywhere near the pyrotechnics, leaving it up to Nicky and Joe to set them up. They didn’t need you to accidentally blow yourself up or something.

As the midnight neared and darkness fell over the sky, you all went outside to see the showcase of lights. With a loud countdown getting down to zero, the fireworks went off creating magnificent scenes in the sky. You hugged her without warning murmuring thank you’s into her chest, and she squeezed you to her, setting her head up on your own as her eyes roamed the colorful sky. Even if she wasn’t a fan of New Year’s Eves, she’d set the lights up for you every night just to see your joyful smile.

As everyone settled down around the living room back inside, she made sure to keep you close, as if to draw in a bit of your energy and cheerfulness. She couldn’t imagine her team, her family, without you anymore. You were the perfect piece into their complicated puzzle.

#andromache #andromache x reader #andy andromache of scythia #andromache x you #andromache of scythia x reader #andromache the scythian #andromache the scythian x reader #charlize theron #andy x reader #andromache of scythia #the old guard #fanfiction #fanfic

183 notes · View notes

ahsfan05 · 1 year

Text

Charlize Theron Masterlist

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The Old Guard

Andromache of Scythia

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The School for Good and Evil

Leonora Lesso

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Atomic Blonde

Lorraine Broughton

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gringo

Elaine Markinson

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I haven’t written anything here yet but requests are open.

#andromache x reader #Andromache of Scythia #andromache the scythian #Andromache the Scythian x reader #Andromache of Scythia x reader #Andy x reader #the old guard #gringo #elaine markinson x reader #Elaine Markinson #the school for good and evil #lady lesso #lady lesso x reader #Leonora lesso #Leonora lesson x reader #charlize theron #charlize theron x reader #atomic blonde #lorraine broughton x reader

160 notes · View notes

hxzxrdous · 11 months

Text

Hi, I'm Ana ♡

Rules

I only write platonic x teen!reader fics, that's pretty much it

Feel free to request and/or send me stuff, comments, literally anything, I love interacting with you guys

꒰ ͜͡➸ 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑺𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒍 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝑮𝒐𝒐𝒅 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑬𝒗𝒊𝒍

𝘓𝘢𝘥𝘺 𝘓𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘰

𝘔𝘪𝘥𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 (blurb)

𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘵 (blurb)

𝘞𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯 (pt. 1)

𝘍𝘦𝘦𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘭𝘪𝘦 (We have eachother pt. 2)

𝘚𝘱𝘦𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭

𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘦 (pt. 1)

𝖧𝗈𝗅𝖽 𝗆𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗇𝖽

𝖢𝗅𝗈𝗌𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖾𝗒𝖾𝗌 (ft. Clarissa Dovey (Dovesso🤭))

𝖨 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝗏𝗈𝗂𝖼𝖾 (Hope pt. 2)

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵

꒰ ͜͡➸ 𝑨𝒕𝒐𝒎𝒊𝒄 𝑩𝒍𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆

𝘓𝘰𝘳𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘉𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘰𝘯

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘧𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵 (pt. 1)

𝖠 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝖼𝗄𝖾𝗋 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗋𝗎𝗌𝗍

WIP (The butterfly effect pt. 2)

꒰ ͜͡➸ 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑶𝒍𝒅 𝑮𝒖𝒂𝒓𝒅

𝘈𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘰𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘚𝘤𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘢

𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚎𝚝 ツ

꒰ ͜͡➸ 𝑺𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝑾𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒆 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑯𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒔𝒎𝒂𝒏

𝘘𝘶𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘙𝘢𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘯𝘢

𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚑𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚎𝚝 ツ

(づ￣ ³￣)づ </333

Enjoy!

62 notes · View notes

ssunkissedsunflowerss · 1 year

Text

what’s stopping me from writing something for andy? *moving house on tuesday, being bombarded by new ideas as i lie awake in bed daydreaming to the point that they are now a jumbled, chaotic mess, unfinished fics in drafts staring daggers at me, headaches, feeling extra blue lately*

nothing. nothing’s stopping me |･ω･)

pleaseeeeee for the love of boobs if you are in need of more andy x reader fics and have ideas for one or idk if you’re just simping for her like i am, offer me some braincells. i am literally half dying to write something for her but i’ve been brainstorming a lot that everything’s becoming a mess 😩 but regardless, i’ll sort out my thoughts and eventually dish out something 😗

just in case if you want to request something and is curious about the way i write, you can check it at @acupofqueercoffee which is currently shadowbanned, so i’m residing here 🥲

#charlize theron #andromache the scythian #the old guard andy #andromache of scythia x reader #the old guard #the old guard andy x reader #character x reader #charlize theron x reader

77 notes · View notes

kbirbpods · 1 year

Text

Original Fic: baby kiss it better by saiditallbefore on ao3

Fandom: The Old Guard

Relationship: Andy | Andromache of Scythia/Quynh | Noriko

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Tags: Post-Canon, Canon-Typical Violence, Temporary Character Death

Audio Length: 2 minutes, 48 seconds

Summary: Quynh doesn't know she's mortal now. She's shooting to kill.

Notes: Yule gift for @flowerparrish

#the old guard podfic #the old guard fic #the old guard #andromache of scythia x reader #quynh the old guard #andy x quynh #noriko the old guard #podfic #kaje pods #saiditallbefore #flowerparrish

9 notes · View notes

merci-bitch · 1 year

Note

Charlize’s characters being jealous?

Hi!!

Well, what can I say. 😺

Warning(s): NSFW mentions, mentions of death, jealousy, semi public, PDA, possessiveness

Also, not my gifs! Credit goes to whoever made them ! <3

Lady Lesso

- Yikes

- Girl is possessive

- If you do it on purpose.

- I’ll come to your funeral.

- She will go feral. I mean crazy

- Lesso isn’t bitching around

- Don’t fuck with her

- Again, if you decide to play wicked and do it on purpose, she will kick your arse. ;)

- She will show you, who you belong to.

- She won’t play nice

- Lesso doesn’t play nice with bratty little girls 👀

- She will not let you walk properly for weeks

- She will make it her own personal mission.

- If it wasn’t on purpose that certain person suddenly goes missing.

- She doesn’t know what you’re talking about.

- She will still take you to bed, make sure you know who you belong to.

- Girl ain’t sharing one bit of you.

Andy

- To be fair

- I’ve seen people say she doesn’t get jealous

- Course she does

- She’s just lived so long it doesn’t effect her as much as perhaps Lesso

- She will be a little, perhaps colder in her behaviour

- She will pull you closer to herself

- Perhaps wrap her arm around you

- She trusts you, and trusts you won’t do anything to hurt her

- Cause she can’t handle another heartbreak

- She might be a little feisty. But not too much because she trusts you with her heart

Elaine Markinson

- She’s similar to Lesso

- Only she will backfire it

- If she notices that you’re doing it on purpose

- She will make you jealous

- Elaine doesn’t take shit

- She takes what she wants

- When she wants

- Daddy’s blue ribbon girl

- If you wanna act like a brat?

- Go ahead. See how fun it is

- Cause if you’re doing it purpose, she will give you your punishment in a whole other way

- Cold shoulder

- Call you a slut perhaps 🤷🏼‍♀️

- If you’re not doing it on purpose, she’ll be all handsy.

- Make you sit in her lap

- Whisper filth in your ear

- Her hands on your thighs and hips, occasionally giving a squeeze

- She would, without doubt, make out with you in front of anyone who’s a much as tries to steal you from her

- Telling them to fuck off as she openly asks you if she should take you home for a good fuck

Charlotte Field

- Now she does get jealous.

- Charlotte was used to you getting jealous from when she used to chat with the Canadian prime minister

- She loved the thrill of it

- Sex was amazing - quote from Ms. Field.

- But when it’s her?

- She gets pouty.

- Perhaps a little insecure

- Even though girl loads of confidence

- She’s always scared of losing you because of her job

- She doesn’t always have those 5 minutes to be affectionate

- Margret will always spoil your plan

- If you intend to do it on purpose, she will know

- She will try to backfire it , sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t

- She doesn’t like to jealous

- Doesn’t like to be teased

- Girl is desperate

- She’s bossy af

- Loves when you’re jealous though

- Loves to tease you about it

- Cause she knows you will flip on her

- Sex was amazing - Ms. Field.

Clea Strange

- Well

- Is it possible?

- I think, if you’re trying to do it on purpose, she’ll find it amusing

- I don’t think Clea is the jealous type like that

- I don’t really think she will act out on it

- Perhaps she’d still give you a little reminder

- If you’re in a relationship with both Clea and Stephen, S will get jealous

- Again, I don’t think Clea is the jealous type

Mavis Gary

- Be prepared to die

- Ask Marri

- No but she will go crazy

- She’s already in such a bad place mentally that she wouldn’t be able to handle it

- And it’s so sad

- Because she’s a teasing type

- She just doesn’t have the energy for it

- She will feel broken by it

- But if she’s in a better state mentally, and knows you’re only doing it to get a rise in her

- Boy are you in for a night

- I think she would go crazy

- On you

- In you

- She will threaten you

- Tease you

- Leave you on edge

- Too bad you got yourself in this position in the first place 🤷🏼‍♀️

Lorraine Broughton

- Honestly, if we’re thinking outside the box and adding her American self

- I think she would be like Clea

- Find it amusing

- She will still get jealous, perhaps a more quiet jealous until you’re alone

- If she trusts you, knows you, loves you

- I think she would find it rather amusing , knowing she could leave you weak with just a simple touch

- She will be all smug about it before she takes you home

- Absolutely rails you

- Perhaps in your more normal way, just more teasing

- She doesn’t need to tell you who you belong to

- She will make you voice it

- Aftercare is bomb, cuddles

Cipher

- Tough cookie

- Well

- Do I have to explain?

- She’s got big dick energy

- Either beg for forgiveness or prepare to DIE

- Girl ain’t having it

- Choose your death

1. Choked to death

2. Shot in the head

3. Begging on your knees before her

- If it wasn’t your fault

- She would jsut kill the person

- Honestly

- She doesn’t give a shit 😭

- But if you need a reminder ?

- Well.

- GOOD LUCK PAHAHAH

Ravenna

- Eh

- Don’t

- Don’t even try to make the Queen jealous

- If it’s before the second movie, she will threaten to take your beauty for herself

- Seeing the dear fear in your eyes

- She loves it

- Gets her going

- That knowing smirk on her lips

- She just have to raise her eyebrow at you

- Daring you to continue

- It’ll leave you a mess for days

- Second movie

- Love is illegal because sis girl is trying to be special

- It’ll be more fun

- Cause you can get away with it more

- It pisses Ravenna off because she can’t go take you now and then

- In secret she’ll have you wish you could beg for mercy

- Freya asking why you seem sick or injured

- Ravenna sitting in the back, biting down her own grin

#ask #lady lesso x reader #charlotte field x reader #andromache of scythia x reader #clea strange x reader #lorriane broughton x reader #queen ravenna x reader #cipher x reader #elaine markinson x reader #mavis gary x reader

576 notes · View notes

romancingromanoff · 6 months

Text

Second Death

Andromache the Scythian x f!reader

I decided to create a series for Andromache (my beloved). Here’s part 1, part 2, and part 3

Summary: Your first mission does not go according to plan

TW: Violence, major character death, somewhat descriptive gore, getting shot in the face, head explosions (kinda), ANGST

Words: around 3,000

A/N: Aside from being very difficult for me to write, this is probably the darkest I've ever gotten in terms of physical violence. So, uh, Happy Halloween I guess?

The plan was based off Buenos Aires 1822 (not 1922 as you had incorrectly assumed at first) which was a reference you obviously didn’t understand but was being explained to you in the most hectic way possible.

“Wait, so Nicky was decapitated-”

“Half decapitated. I didn’t actually die!”

“But you were quite light-headed for the rest of the day, my dear.” Joe feigned concern, brushing the back of his hand across his partner’s forehead and smiling like a fool.

Your leader was having none of it.

“Can we be serious please?” Immediately, the entire group’s focus shifted back to the Scythian. She certainly wasn’t going to admit it but she was apprehensive with this being your first mission. For months, you’d been doing nothing but training and begging her to let you in on the action until she was finally forced to give in. The instinct to keep you safe gnawed at Andy while it became increasingly difficult to ignore how your desire to prove your worth would only continue to grow. She recognized the same frustrations in a much younger version of herself and remembered how reckless it drove her to be.

“I’d rather we didn’t repeat that portion this time, agreed?”

You all nodded.

They laid out all the details about the traffickers and the group of people you were meant to rescue. It was an estimated 25-40 women and older girls being smuggled through for undoubtedly unpleasant purposes Andy didn’t get too detailed with. She, Joe, and Nico planned to storm the ship when it completely docked and most of the crew was on land retrieving supplies and weapons. That would leave only a few guards standing between them and the captives, who were most likely being held somewhere below deck. Once they find them, you and Booker would bring in the truck to help get everyone out. It sounded simple enough, but the fact that it was meant to go off without a hitch somehow doubled the amount of pressure you were applying to yourself. They had all done this at least once before, so if things went south then it was all because of you.

A few hours passed and you sat next to Booker in the passenger seat of the truck parked a couple of meters away from the ship and near a loading dock. With the engine off it was starting to get increasingly cold, but you didn’t even mind the chill at that point. You needed to be as alert as possible for what was to come.

Booker clearly sensed your apprehension. “It’s okay to be nervous, we’re not going to let anything bad happen to you.” He kept his voice low and his eyes glued on the dock entrance while you tried to do the same.

Your mind was wrapped up in much bigger concerns. “I’m not worried about that. What if something goes wrong because of me? If I get hurt then so be it, I just don’t want to endanger anyone else when their lives and freedom are at stake.”

“You’ll be fine. Trust your training and lean on your team if you need help. That’s what we’re here for.” He offered you an encouraging smile that you attempted to return the best you could, yet you also wished he wouldn’t look at you with so much sympathy all of the time. As much as you appreciated everything they had done for you, you longed to show the others that you were capable of carrying your own weight and didn’t need someone to hold your hand constantly.

The two of you settled into a silence that was occasionally filled with a comment or two about nothing in particular. It didn’t do much to settle your nerves. You watched as dozens of muscular men left in packs, each one armed with at least a pistol that Booker taught you how to spot. He translated some of the French he could hear them speaking, which was mostly crude, misogynistic banter that made your jaw clench up.

“Good to know that men are pigs in basically all cultures,” you murmured mostly to yourself and tried to get your jaw to relax. Surprisingly, it earned you a gratifying laugh from the Frenchman and you were relieved when he didn’t take your comment too personally.

“For the most part, I don’t disagree.”

“How will Andy and the others know when all of them have left?” You changed the subject upon the realization that the rest of the guard was hidden somewhere no one would see them, not even you. It was still difficult to imagine they had a better scouting position than the near-direct view you did.

“Don’t worry, they’ll know,” Booker assured you in a slightly amused tone. Some secrets were still too complicated for you to know about yet, you supposed.

Almost a half hour later, three heads eventually peered up through the shadows and Andy, Joe, and Nico lifted themselves up onto the ship. Perfectly lit by hues of the full moon, they danced towards their destination, the sheer coordination and skill reminding you of just how experienced they were. With Andy leading the pack, they silently began making their way up the vessel as a single unit. No words or other body gestures needed to be shared when they occupied the same hive mind. The group only came to a stop when they reached a door and huddled around it, trying to listen for anyone that might be on the other side. When you assumed everything was clear, Andy swiftly kicked it open and entered with her gun aimed and ready.

Not even a minute after all three filed in, the sound of a gunshot suddenly shook you. You immediately turned to Booker, whose face gave away the slightest look of concern at the noise. This must not have happened in Buenos Aires. No more gunshots followed, thank goodness, but there were sounds of a struggle going on below deck which had the two of you on high alert. You prayed that nobody else close by could hear the commotion.

Things began to steer away from the original plan when Joe emerged from below far before he should have, struggling to keep another figure under control as he held their arms in a twisted position behind their back while continuing to firmly push them forward. Even in the dark, you could just make out how young the kid appeared to be. He couldn’t have been older than 16 and you assumed his reason for being on the ship was because he had an older relative in the crew. You relaxed when you realized that meant how unlikely it was that he’d be trained in how to fight. Joe would definitely keep from harming him unless he absolutely had to. Stupidly, you also forgot about how reckless young boys can be.

Everything fell apart in a mere matter of seconds. As he appeared to calm down, Joe eased up on the grip he held the boy with and he it didn’t seem like he would move at first. But in an instant, the scraggly kid darted from his grasp and sprinted around a corner and out of your line of sight to the completely opposite side of the ship. Booker reached for the door handle as a precaution while the rest of his body remained seated. A bead of sweat rolled down your neck despite the chill in the air and the gradual understanding that Book might be preparing to leave you on your own stilled your body completely. All of the careful planning you had fought to carefully commit to memory melted into mush.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a high-pitched whistle that rang through the air and your eyes quickly followed a bright red light travel up into the sky before it burst into a large display of lights and smoke. Time seemed to slow down and your heart sped up. Of course, if there wasn’t going to be another pistol going off, it had to be a goddamn flare gun. Yelling, alarmed Frenchmen could then be heard scrambling towards the dock and Booker cursed under his breath.

“Stay here, I’ll go help the others!” Booker leaped out of the vehicle, throwing the keys which hit your petrified figure. Part of you wanted to speak up and stop him but you could only squeak out an indecipherable sound of concern seconds after he was gone. Looking back at the ship, you caught sight of Nico peeking his head out from the door they entered through. He exited with a determined look on his face and was followed by a line of women. You itched at your sweating palms when twenty women or so had piled out and there was still no sign of Andy.

The men hurrying in from the opposite direction quickly diverted your attention. Squinting your eyes, you were able to spot a figure in the distance headed straight towards your vehicle. You nearly panicked but caught yourself, uncertain if you were dealing with the traffickers or possibly random dock workers that had been alarmed by the flare and merely wanted to check out the situation. Either way, you decided it was still too risky to start up the engine just yet. At least, you told yourself the others probably wouldn’t want you to give away your position.

That’s when you noticed a faint movement in your side mirror. A tuft of matted blonde curls belonging to a distressed woman’s face peeked over the top of one of the crates not to far behind you. She must’ve spotted something concerning, because her eyes went wider than a trapped mouse’s and she disappeared back down, ultimately causing the crates to shake. You ground your back teeth together and prayed it was only you who had seen her. But then right on cue, the blinding glow of a flashlight landed directly over the area where the woman was hiding. The man you had spotted only moments before, his flashlight lit up a devious grin on his face that urged you to hold in your breath. He even sounded like the devil when he spoke. It didn’t take a high level French skills to tell that he began goading the poor woman like it was some sadistic game to him.

He approached the crates ever so slowly, savoring the anticipation which laid before whatever unspeakable plans he had for his victim. It then occurred to you that she was most likely paralyzed with the same fear that had struck you.

And yet, she was the one currently being hunted while you were poised to sit and watch it unfold. You, protected by both your position and inexplicable gift of immortality. None of it seemed remotely fair and your body began to stir at the simple thought.

“Under no circumstances should you be engaging in combat,” Andy had firmly laid down the law several times leading up to this day. You’d never wanted to disobey anything she said so passionately before and here it felt like you scarcely had no other option but to go against something she forbade.

The adrenaline rushing through your veins threw your body into action before you could debate any further. Barely aware of the forces taking hold of you, you tumbled out of the door and landed directly behind the attacker who continued to stalk forward towards the woman’s hiding place. He slowly began to raise his gun, something with barrels much longer than your forearms, and it was like you didn’t have the time to properly assess whatever danger lie at the other end. You just didn’t want it pointing at her.

Without a hint of hesitation, you drove foot into the back of the man’s left knee and he immediately crumbled down to about a third of his height. You were ready for him with your knife once his face spun around and an overpowering sense of rage guided your arm to make a clean cut from just below his right eyebrow, across the bridge of his nose, and finally through the center of his left eye.

Something solid and heavy smacked the front of your head and you could hear the woman behind you scream in horror before everything went black.

Horrific violence was nothing if not a sheer constant to Andy. She had both experienced and caused enough to fill the oceans with blood, yet nothing made her seethe with rage more than watching yours spill from your head like a geyser. A thousand lifetimes stained with death could not have prepared her for the sight of your limp body hitting the ground, to which there was no question as to whether or not you were dead. Even if you had been wearing some type of protective head gear, a shotgun firing within five inches of your face would have been fatal.

She was usually a pro at keeping her emotions under control until the mission was completed and never steered away from the plan without first calculating the absolute best course of action. The other teammates she had and the terrified group of women she was meant to protect called upon her to uphold her position as the leader, a task she had shouldered over a million times before despite whatever her personal feelings demanded. Absolutely none of that mattered now. Getting to you, killing that bastard, and wrapping you up in your arms became the only course of action she was capable of taking.

Her first priority was taking out the son of a bitch that dared to touch you before anyone else got hurt. She handed off the little girl she had been carrying to Nico before barreling over a crate and launching herself over the side of the ship, rolling smoothly to break her fall when she hit the the dock.

Despite how fast she ran, she seemed to move at a cursedly slow pace. She was still too quick for the man, his blood leaking from the fresh gash you had tore across his face, to notice her. He didn’t even get a chance to run before the warrior drove her labrys straight into the already-open wound. Andy could only revel in the brief taste of satisfaction for a moment before her emotions began swarming once again, the anger she had held for that man was now aimed solely at herself.

“Booker, get her into the back!” She barked at the Frenchman to take care of the hostage still hiding while rushing over to where your body collapsed. Up close, the sight was even more gruesome as blood, flesh, and bone were splattered all across what used to be your face. It would have been generous to call what was left of everything above your neck a simple stump. She knew she needed to get you out of there fast but hated to leave behind any parts of your head that might have been salvageable. Even saving something like an ear or significant chunk of your skull could aid in speeding up the healing process. She knew it would be excruciatingly painful for you to grow back yourself.

She desperately grabbed at fistful of what she hoped was your brain before scooping you up in her arms. It was the fact that you were so much lighter than usual which made her wince, though she couldn’t help but be somewhat relieved when it meant it allowed her to run faster on her feet. Cautious yet quick, Andy made a beeline for the passenger’s seat of the truck and cradled your body in her arms while you continued to bleed out. It wasn’t a sight she wanted any of the hostages to witness and it’s not like she was letting go of you anytime soon anyway.

“Drive!” One word was all she needed to command whomever was at the steering wheel to get out of there as fast as possible. It didn’t even occur to her to look up and check to see who she was sitting next to, as she immediately began trying to pick up any movement in your chest or a sign of a pulse in your wrist, anything that indicated the resurrection process was in motion.

“Please, please, come back to me,” she pleaded as your warm blood began to pool across her lap.

“Give her a second.” She realized it was Booker currently driving. “It’s only her second time and will probably take longer than expected.”

The women they had freed were now crammed together once again, only this time being in the back of a dark loading truck as it sped through the dead of night was probably far more merciful than them being forced to witness the transformation you were currently undergoing. Andy, however, couldn’t tear a single string of her attention away from you throughout the entire process.

Each noise you made followed by the eventual cries of her name from your lips, once your mouth and airways had completely reformed, tore at Andromache deeper and deeper, in ways that no physical pain she had ever endured could compare. She bit down on her tongue till it was bloody as you repetitively squeezed her hand throughout the entire process. The same ones you often used to delicately recreate precious moments on paper broke more than a few of her bones. But Andy barely noticed and didn’t have the capacity to care. All she was focused on was you.

For the first time in centuries, the Scythian invoked the words of an ancient prayer and resurrected a long dead language as she tried to soothe your pain. She stopped believing in a higher power a long time ago but couldn’t shake the truth that repeating those words made her feel anchored to something even larger than her life or her immortality. There wasn’t anything she wouldn’t try if it might possibly bring you a sense of comfort, which she actually prayed may happen.

#andromache the scythian x reader #andy the scythian x reader #andromache of scythia #the old guard #one shot #andy the scythian #the old guard x reader #andy #andy x reader #andromache x reader #angst #Charlize Theron characters

80 notes · View notes

multifandommilfs · 5 months

Text

Perks of Living Forever

Pairing: Andy x reader

Wc: 1834

Tw: death but they ressurect because immortality :)

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

"who's that?" Nile held up a photoframe that encased a black and white picture of you and Andy posing together, her arm around your waist and yours hung around her shoulder. Andy seemed genuinely blissed and sober with a gaze from you directed to her. There was something intimate about it, Nile could tell, for your gaze held such affection, pure content by the meek crinkle of your eye. The photo seemed accidental, captured on the spur of the moment.

Nile turned the frame between her fingers in the direction of the team in her outstretched arm, seeing how Andy averted her eyes instantly, Joe and Nicky chuckling wryly. Andy snatched up her bottles of vodka and crossed the room, right out to the pier. Nile had her confusion thinly veiled.

"That's uh-" Joe scratched the back of his neck, his eyes finding Nicky's, an affirmation garnered. "Andy's lover. Taken quite recently I'd say. A year or two before World War Two, she got her hands on a camera, never told us how she did it, that's the first picture in our team. I'm quite proud that I took it." Nicky punched his arm lightly, eliciting chuckles. "We took it together!"

"A year before- why isn't she with Andy? With us? Is she-"

"We wish, but she's too stubborn for death itself." Nicky righted her.

"They had a disagreement on who they supported during the Second World War; you see- she had a psychopathic streak that longed for world dominion, took sides with Germany and went off the grid after the war ended. We couldn't find her but Andy persisted that she's alive, she was there for every soldier's death."

"Why hadn't you told me about it before? Why keep this from me?" She felt like a pariah, like the camera that captured the picture in her grasp, intruding on something that wasn't privy to her.

Nicky and Joe exchanged a conflicted glance. "We don't like to talk about it."

___________

Goussainville, just outside of Paris, September 2, 1940. A cacophony of gunshots hollered throughout the Charlie safe house, hauling them awake from sleep instantly, hearts pounding loudly in their ears, contrasting their silent footsteps that threaded fast on the wooden floorboards, pistols angled downward in their stiffly outstretched arms.

Book slammed his shoulder into Andy's room, a damp splat onto the ground as it broke off from its rusty hinges. "Oh shit." Book swore. The smell of metallic blugeoning them in the face. "Foterre!"

"What is it?" His chest heaving, the sight obscured by his two tall friends provided him with more consternation before they parted and he almost retched.

Andy, chest flat against the floor, lips dipped in a spreading puddle of her own blood, they could see the cragged outline of her blown-apart skull; the flesh gave way to bullets.

They stared, drenched in their own shock. Nicky made the first move, hands turning her on her back, the Glock in her hands slipping out of her loose grasp was it then that he realized the true extent of the injury and grimaced in disgust, recoiling away from the disfigured face, hair crusted with blood.

Then Booker lunged forward, rutting her against the ground by her shoulders. "Wake up Andy! Wake the fuck up!"

A wheeze and splutter filled them with immediate relief. They looked on as the trauma healed itself familiarly, flesh filling out the hollow, skin sticking itself back together as her pupils adjusted to the light. Booker released her, trembling from adrenaline, from fear. Nicky reached for Joe's hand and held it in a vice grip. They could see the disappointment clearly in her eyes as she heaved herself off the floor, tucking the gun into the back of her jeans. "Get back to sleep boys." Her tone of voice reminded them of a failed mission as she staggered for the bathroom.

______

Nile looked between the lovers, then out of the window to see Booker and Andy. She held a reassuring smile on her face to quell his tears. She could tell that they were going to split up; Booker would have to craft his own path, a consequence of his treachery that harboured a pure goal at heart. "She'll make it into a bedtime story when she's ready, or perhaps you'll dream about it." Nicky chided, throwing Nile a half-grimace smile. She really had to give it to Nicky's welcoming nature for the instant comfort she felt.

____

Andy's arm acted as a barricade at the doorframe, being the first to step past the threshold of their safehouse, stilling the rest of them.

"Someone's here." She kept her voice low, only audible to the ones behind her, her eyes left the haphazardly rolled-up mat by the doorway. Her gaze sweeping the darkened room, the shadows that drove up the walls made it all the more unsettling.

There was nothing, not even a whisper of wind from the window left ajar, but her hand readied on her gun, another hand reaching into the house at an awkward angle to slap the light switch on.

Light bathed the room in a blink, the darkness shrinking away to the corners. The hasty shuffle they heard then was unmistakable. Andy drew out her gun in an instant, the others following suit.

She zeroed in on the root of the noise, making a daring step onto the wooden floorboards despite Nile's less-than-erupting protest.

"You two keep watch." And Joe disappeared past the doorframe, Nicky's demurring trailing behind him.

Nile scrambled to the edge of the doorway; she had Andy and Joe at the corner of her eye now as they crept further into the house. She held her breath as Andy rounded the corner, bracing for a gunshot, a scream, something other than the heinous silence that was ceasing her breath, ladened on their shoulders and squeezing their throats.

She forced a breath in, adamantly staying calm even though she was anything but that. Then Andy said a name she didn't know, the silence perforated, Joe sprinting away from her view and Italian words were churning out of Nicky as he stepped past Nile and right into the house, his eyes wide as he shoved his gun back. Nike was compelled to follow without a word, her feet fast, gun pointed towards the floor by her thigh. Her heart beating fast in her chest at the urgency of others.

But it didn't need to last when she saw Andy, her arms wound around a silhouette so tightly that she would've thought it was a chokehold if it weren't for the pair of grasping hands pulling the back of her shirt taut.

The haste that passed her nerves was replaced with gnawing uncertainty, the feeling of intrusion coming back into her again as she watched Nicky and Joe being pulled into the embrace. Her heart twisted uncomfortably at the feeling, yet she couldn't help but watch as a raw sob escaped from one of you, pulling into each other unyieldingly.

When all of you broke apart, she scurried to the nearest couch.

She could faintly hear a watery chuckle, a few exchanged words that brimmed with affection and she wondered if she could ever find that kind of connection outside of the formed group. Immortality was the ultimate curse for someone who loved too much.

Nicky and Joe appeared in no time, hauling her away from her thoughts. "You should meet her." Joe offered. "The partner." Nicky filled in the spaces and everything seemed to click together too fast for Nile to handle. "What, really? That's the woman in the photo? Andy's wife?" She had to force her voice down from the shock.

_______

With Nick and Joe splitting away from the both of you to the girl you didn't know, your lips sought Andy's out. She stumbled backwards from the force, gasping softly before maneuvering you closer by your jaw, her actions tentative yet knowing. It was all familiar when you let half your weight on her, knees trembling as your arms hung around her shoulders. All familiar and fervent, filling yourself with what you missed for the last few decades.

She was quiet when you parted, her eyes glazed with affection as her thumb ran rounds from your cheek to your jaw. It was a warmth you had forgotten and arose tears that blurred your vision, your lips cracking into a smile.

"I don't think I've been so haunted by someone." You said it with mirth and she let out a scoff of wet laughter.

"Shut up with your poetry." She ducked her nose into the crook of your neck; you could feel her smile on your skin, her hand on your jaw dropping to another side of your shoulder as you held her.

When the adrenaline fell away, you remembered what you wanted to say during decades where you were manipulated by fear. Fear made you hunger for control and power. But you knew deep down that you couldn't ever be sorry for living that life. It was every human instinct to replace what was lost with something else. So you said so.

"I'm not sorry for wanting what I wanted." You whispered and felt her stiffen beneath your fingertips, the weight on your shoulder beginning to lift.

"But I am sorry for leaving." You got it out fast before she could look you in the eye and steal your courage, making you swallow your words. "So s- sorry." Your voice broke and you pushed your face into her shoulder with a sudden burst of tears as she rose from yours, catching you in time. "I'm so- I'm so sorry." Your lips twisted with ugly sobs and this time you didn't know if you were apologizing to her or yourself for putting the both of you through this torture.

A warmth smoothed over your back, her hand on your shoulder cupping the nape of your neck as her lips pressed against the crown of your head again and again and again. "I have nothing to forgive you for." She said. "But I cannot say the same for the others."

You nodded wordlessly in her clutch, tears soaking her sleeve. You laid against the damp fabric, listening to her pulse beating through bone and skin and basked in it, letting your breath level with hers as her fingers weaved through your hair, momentarily scratching your scalp.

"Lovebirds, an introduction is needed." Joe's words left you moving apart from each other, her hand finding its place on your waist as yours hung around her shoulder.

A girl stepped into your view, her eyes widening, a grin spreading across her lips as Andy became the medium of introduction.

"God, you look so much like the photograph!" She spilled with wonder tinted in her features. "I mean it's like you haven't aged a bit and that photograph was what- 10 years ago?"

"Perks of living forever." You glanced at Andy before shaking Nile's hand. "You never age."

–––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––––

Here's a link to my masterlist ^^

Comment, reblog, drop an ask! Feedback is greatly adored

#andromache the scythian x reader #andromache the scythian #andromache of scythia x reader #andy x reader #andy #charlize theron x reader #charlize theron #The Old Guard #the old guard

121 notes · View notes

acupofqueercoffee · 1 year

Text

“Offer me the deathless death”

Andromache the Scythian x Female Reader

request ( found here ) by @nightly-polaris

|･ω･) go wild, you said and go wild, i did. i included as much of the provided details as i could. hopefully, you’ll find it agreeable

cw : 18+ 18+ 18+ 18+ 18+ // dubcon-ish // ✂️ ✂️😼 // overstimulation

casually quoting hozier for all my andromache fics. that fight scene on the plane and the way she grabbed nile by the jaw tho 😩 wanted to incorporate it in a fic ever since i saw it, and fucking finally did

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

Hallucinations. A fever dream.

Anything but reality is what you tell yourself, and what a job you have been doing thus far! Fantastically foolish if nothing else. Cocooned in a bubble of lies that spill forth none other than your lips, and illusions that are carved by your very mind itself, you harbour not a droplet of doubt that the reality in front of your eyes is nothing but bona fide.

People after all are the most masterful at fooling themselves.

Ensnared in a web of deceit weaved by your fingers lie no hapless preys, but you, yourself, who revel in the sweet taste of false security as you do in the richness of the creamy warm chocolate drink that coats your tongue.

Even though business in your shop today is notably satisfactory if not the most profitable, it is not the digits that matter to you the most. Your little shop is borne purely out of your profound passion and desire; obligation is out of the picture. It is where you feel the most at home, doing what you love while bathed in the aroma of freshly ground coffee and cocoa.

Amidst brewing a cup of americano as per the order of a customer with stylish sun-glasses and a striking jawline, your dress is accidentally soiled. Little do you know, the scatter of black and bitter constellations along the pristine white of your sleeve is merely the dawn of a darker, more bitter happening.

──────── ༻✿༺ ────────

Finding you has been relatively easy.

When the familiar dreams begin plaguing her usually dreamless nights, a telltale sign of a new immortal on the horizon, Andromache has half a mind to ignore them altogether. Had she not seen the places that stoke recognition amongst the wild tapestry of images, she certainly would have. But alas, her target, as it so happens, is no stranger to her. By no means does the Scythian know you. Nor you, the Scythian. New immortals bring together with them an assortment of risks, one of them being the exposure of their secret. It is with such knowledge in mind that Andromache feels obliged to set out for you despite her reluctance. You living in the neighbourhood of her temporary place of residence only makes the search all the more convenient.

Being a warrior for many a millennium has developed a vast array of tactical traits into personal trademarks. Those that once upon a time had had to be mindfully exercised, now occur as easily and effortlessly as breathing, involuntary more often than not. Beneath the dark shades of a spectacle perched on a well-defined slope of a nose lies a pair of sage green eyes, scanning the vicinity of wherever she goes like an eagle on a hunt. They have landed on it then, during her visit to a store, standing adjacent to it is a cafe in the name of “Trouvaille”. The Scythian is not one to be easily intrigued, but what a lie it would be to say that the charming building with its vintage air and curious name had not tickled her fancy. Or its owner whom she has noticed is all sweet smiles and dulcet eyes.

Eyes which she has only seen from afar then, now she stares directly into them. Protected by the shades, the intense greens study you with brazen openness, roaming all over your frame, from the tiny clips that decorate your cascading hair like colourful Christmas lights to the butterfly pendant that dangles from a simple silver chain, hovering directly above the dip of your throat, from the little flower prints on your dress, the skirt of which softly caresses your thighs, to occasional glimpse of seemingly soft flesh that teases the Scythian, left uncovered by a pair of white thigh-highs.

It is retrieving you that is the hard part.

Immediately upon arrival, Andromache has read your features for perhaps a trace of recognition. You paying the Scythian a visit in her dreams can only mean one thing after all: that she, too, must have appeared in yours. Yet, no widening of your eyes greet her, only a smile that does not waver.

“Hi, welcome to cafe Trouvaille. What can I get you?”

“Americano will do. Hot.”

Beside the fact that it is broad day light, a few people roam the place. As capable as Andromache is of manhandling you, it is not in her best interest to attract attention. The situation calls for patience. Rushing will spell only more trouble at best. Wait she must, and so, wait she does.

Leisurely, the Scythian sips her coffee, studying you periodically as she does so. It is after some minutes have ticked by, the cup of coffee sitting on the table, empty and cold, that she decides to fish a book, leather-bound and well-worn, out of her backpack. Thumbing through old pages, Andromache spends the better part of the wait indulging in literature, until one by one, people start trickling out of the shop.

In due time, it leaves only the Scythian and you.

The sky has taken on a deep orange hue by the time she stands to approach you. She eyes you surreptitiously, and upon confirming that she is not at the receiving end of your attention, the Scythian moves to lock the door. Ever the diligent wielder of caution, she does not forget to flip the little dangling plate. The letter “We’re closed.” that is carved into the wood will help ward off potential visitors.

Even as she walks towards the counter, you do not seem to notice her for you are kept occupied by the book in your lap, fingers busy scribbling onto paper. It is the tinkle of porcelain on marble as she drops the cup and saucer atop the counter that finally has your eyes zeroing in on her. She watches you watch her. Backdropped by the sunset with her shades finally tucked away into the pocket of her jacket, the sight of the Scythian brings about a subtle shift in your mien. Although fleeting, the furrow of your brows that must have been imperceptible to others, does not go unnoticed.

“Hello, again. I hope you’ve had a good time.”

The smile that you give her is sweet, if not the most genuine.

“Why don’t we save the pleasantries, hm?” The smile that touches her lips, in contrast, has a hint of sourness. “You’ve seen me before.”

“I’m sorry. I don’t believe I have.”

Your answer only brings about a twofold increase in the Scythian’s irritation. Judging by the slightest delay in your response, she knows that you are well aware that she has not meant it as a query, and so, she says as much.

“It wasn’t a question.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. You must have mistaken me for someone else.”

The adamant denial from you has strong, slender digits tightening around the strap that is slung over one shoulder.

“Do I really have to spell it out for you? You died, and then you woke up, saw a bunch of people you had never seen before in your dream, including me.”

“But, that was- No. Surely it was-.”

“Look, kid-” Forming into a thin line are Andromache’s lips as she takes a moment to compose herself, slowly huffing out an exhale through flared nostrils. “-I know you’ve got questions but I need you to come with me first.”

“No. No, I don’t think so. This isn’t real. None of this is real. Leave, please. I need you to leave.”

Lips that slowly curl into a smirk and a chuckle that comes out dark and dangerous. “It’s cute that you think you have a choice.”

Battered boots that come to rest just shy of polished loafers.

“You know…your folly is, dare i say, commendable. Reality is not just something you can rewrite, and yet, you managed an impeccable job of tricking yourself into thinking what you believe to be the truth is the truth.”

One foreboding frame that looms like a predator and the one that cowers like a cornered prey.

“Alas, I almost feel bad for shattering your little illusion. But then again, I’ve done a great many questionable things in my life having lived as long as I have. What significance would it make to add another?”

“What I saw in my dream. They really happened.” It is a question albeit not being voiced like one. The Scythian does not find the need to answer. Why bother when the answer already lies in your hand?

At her silence, a look of horror dawns on your features. “You’re a murderer. You and your friends. I’ve seen them. I- I’m not- I can’t.”

“Oh darling, a rose without thorns is but a weed, easy to be plucked, to be trampled on. You’re one of us now. You will come with me whether you like it or not, and you will do so this instant.”

Every single step you hesitantly take back is met with an immediate footfall of boots as they fall right onto the place that your loafers have just vacated. It goes like this for a while, you actively ruining the close proximity, and Andromache rectifying it, until there is nowhere for you to flee, and your hips collide with the counter edge.

“Why me?” She parries your plea with a nonchalant shrug, face impassive. “Beats me.”

“Please, I-” Tears glisten in your eyes, murmuring beseechingly. “Let me go. I can’t kill. I know nothing about fighting.”

While her hands grip the counter on either side of your waist to cage you in strong arms, her lips lower to the shell of your ear, breath warm as she speaks. “Don’t worry your pretty little head about it. You can kill. In fact, anyone can. You just have to listen to me.”

“No! Let me go! I don’t want-” Yells dissolve into a yelp by way of digits seizing your jaw.

“I’ve gone out of my way to exercise great forbearance, but it is running terribly thin. It would do you well not to try it any further.” She husks threateningly, feeling the softness of your cheeks giving under the roughness of her battle-hardened fingers. Salty droplets drench her digits as tears start spilling in rivulets down your cheeks.

“Go on, bite me with those baby teeth. Scratch me with your little paws.” She taunts. “Why, would you look at that! All bark and no bite. How pathetic.”

It is as she says this that your teeth sink into the palm that is pressed tightly against your mouth. The unexpected retaliation has her stance faltering, and although you manage to break free from her bodily confines, the Scythian, being far more nimble and dexterous, hardly has to break sweat in recapturing you.

“You're a stubborn little thing, aren’t you? Two can play that game, although don’t say I didn’t warn you. Breaking men, after all, is considered one of my fortes.”

Wrists locked behind your back in her iron grip, and body bent over the marble counter, Andromache revels in the quavering of your body beneath her own as one wicked hand, like a sneaky serpent, slowly slithers up your thigh.

“Are you-” A whimper flies past your lips when your arms are pulled taunt, shoulders craning uncomfortably. And then, she yanks, hard and unforgiving, until you are forced onto your feet, back colliding with her front. “Are you going to kill me?”

Andromache cannot help but laugh at your question, a rich throaty sound that brings about the erection of soft little hair on the nape of your neck.

Your wrists are released at the cost of your cheeks bearing the brunt of her ire as rough fingers dig into your flesh. They flee from their cage between the two of your bodies to take sanctuary on her forearm, soft fingers grasping the sleeve of her jacket. “Where’s the fun in killing you when I can just have my way with you, hm?” Her hold around one of your thighs remains unrelenting while the hand on your jaw coerces you into craning your neck. Your head rests on her chest with a grunt, and you drown, held spellbound by the intense green of her eyes. “I’d rather enjoy the view of you crumbling beneath me than watch you bleed out only to come alive again.”

Although it douses you in shame, you have to admit that you are not entirely immune to the woman. How can you when she oozes charisma, frighteningly beautiful even as she looms over you with all the grandeur of a great menacing panther.

And then, too many things happen all at once; fingers that crawl into a forest of hair to grab a fistful, with a yank to the side, a throat that is bared for the predator above to conveniently sink her teeth into, the frenzied little flutter of a pulse beneath the flat of a warm tongue, chocked sobs that dissolve into a strangled gasp as a cold hand journeys into the waistband of an underwear.

Previously, your hands have found home on her thighs, fingers grappling fabric, but upon feeling wandering digits inside your underwear, one of them flies towards the offending hand, locking around a wrist.

“N-no. You can’t.”

“You would do well to remember that I am in control here.”

The Scythian’s growl is not only heard, but also felt on your skin as teeth nibble, mouth suck, and lips soothe the stings that afterwards will linger on your body in the form of dark blues and bright reds.

Horror and humiliation dance a wild tango whereas fingers waltz delicately along your folds, a condescending tsk echoing off your nape when they come away wet. Betrayed and backstabbed by your own body, mortification colours your face as not one but two of her sizeable digits sink into your heat with little to no effort. Although sudden, it does not hurt, though it stings, leaves you breathless still. Dewdrops bloom on your lashes and they drop down your cheeks when fingers in your core bury knuckles deep, abuse your tightness. You feel them in the very depths of your body, filling you so deliciously that when they wiggle so much as a little, it is more than enough to sucker-punch a breath out of your lungs.

Between her hot mouth kissing your neck all rosy and sore, her fingers cleverly caressing your insides, and her hand toying with your breasts beneath your dress, it is no surprise that your undoing greets you with a tidal wave of pleasure.

It is, however, a surprise to find yourself being shoved back-first onto the table, legs being pulled wide by fingers twining round your thighs. You are still suffering through a series of aftershocks from your first orgasm when her mouth attaches itself to your quavering folds, that wicked tongue immediately slithering into your hole. It does a cruel little nudge and your fingers wind up entwined in her hair. Instead of a reproach, it is a hum of satisfaction that you earn as the Scythian grabs a handful of your buttocks and devour you like a starved man.

By the seventh one, you are well beyond exhausted, brain foggy courtesy of being fucked into oblivion, and body agonisingly sore, littered with deep hues and teeth marks. Somewhere between third and fourth, if you recall correctly, she has stripped you bare, bar your thigh-highs, and completely rid herself off clothes, magnificent muscles coming into display. You have ogled them with barely restrained awe until your attention is swayed elsewhere by her mouth leaving traces of herself all across the expanse of your body.

Now, once again, you marvel at them, entranced by the impressiveness of her muscles that ripple with every roll of her powerful hips.

You barely recognise the face that is staring right back at you, reflected in the surface of sea green eyes, or the sounds that are oozing out of your lips. Sweat clings to the forehead of the woman towering over you as it does to yours. One of your legs is slung over her shoulder, and the other lies limp and useless between her thighs, as she rubs herself into your core with wild abandon.

“I- I can’t. Too much. It’s too muc- ah!”

“Yes, you can.”

She has taken the hand that goes to rest on one of her hipbones only to weave her fingers with yours. Now, they hover in the air, tightly intertwined, suddenly made much tighter by the white knuckled grip of your hand.

“Slow- nghh please! Be gentle.”

“You do as I say. Not the other way round. Is that understood?”

The desperate nods of your head is met with a bite to the succulent inside of your thigh just above the brim of your sock.

“Answer me.”

“Yes!”

“My word shall be your command, and you will dance to my every desire, won’t you darling?”

“Yes! Yes, I will.”

“You are mine after all, aren’t you? Mine to do with what I please. Mine to use how I see fit. Don’t you agree?”

“I’m yours- ngh- all yours.”

“Good girl.” She moans, movements escalating from lazy strokes to untamed gyrations.

“Andy.” She rasps breathlessly. “I want to hear my name dripping down those pretty little lips when you fall apart.”

And hear she does. Andy. Andy. Andy. Andy. Her name is all you can cry out as your juices mingle with one another’s, the combined essence soiling your thigh-highs as well as the couch beneath you.

Back curving, toes curling, you soar high, high into heaven, swimming amongst clouds, drowning in euphoria. And then, you plummet, down into the pit of hell, down into another one of those little deathless deaths. An intense blinding white replaced by an absolute dark.

When you awake, it is to the heart-melting sensation of lips softly caressing your forehead. You find yourself on the same couch that you have passed out, cocooned in toned arms, face tucked snugly into a warm, musky throat. Reflexively, you begin nosing the soft underside of her jaw before you are startled by fingers wandering down your very naked thigh.

“Look at me.” Obediently, you oblige, reluctantly leaving the pleasant warmth of her neck to do what she desires.

“What have I told you?” All too delicately, or as delicately as the callouses on her hand will allow, the pad of a thumb grazes the apple of your cheek.

Fighting against the urge to slip your eyes shut, you sigh dreamily instead. “That as long as I remain a good obedient girl, no harm will befall me.”

“That’s right. And are you?”

A nod as an answer prompts a pat of a forefinger on your cheek, and then, another. You know what she wants, so you give her just that.

“I’m a good girl.”

Not only do you see the smirk on her face, but you also feel it on your skin as she leans down to drag her lips across yours. “You forgot to mention whose, darling.”

“I’m a good girl, Andy. Your good girl.”

“And will my good girl obey my every command like she had promised?”

“Mmhm.”

A breath catches in your throat as her lips journey down down down, admiring the traces of none other than herself until that ravenous mouth adjourn to your hip, sucking the tender spot on your hipbone to make it all the more vibrant.

Although it has not been the main purpose of her doing what she has done, it is without doubt that Andromache gets a sick sort of pleasure out of seeing you covered in her marks. Every inch of your body and soul, all irrevocably hers.

You have said it so yourself, willingly given yourself up to her. That being said, it is purely her own greed that has her craving more and more and more of you. The scent of you that is sinfully sweet, heady and uniquely yours, makes her ache. The sight of you, like the dewy petals of an exquisite flower, pretty and pulsating, makes her mouth water.

It is with this insatiable hunger swelling inside of her that the Scythian sinks to her knees between your luxuriously smooth thighs.

“One more, darling. Give me one more before we leave.”

And you do, oh how you do even as one bleeds into two and two into three, because a good girl does what she is taught, does she not? And you are a good girl, Andy’s sweet little good girl to do with what she will.

▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃▃

#andromache the scythian x reader #andromache of scythia x reader #andromache x reader #andromache x you #andy the old guard #andy andromache of scythia #andromache the scythian #andromache of scythia #character x reader #charlize theron x reader #charlize theron #the old guard #smut #gif #movie gifs

395 notes · View notes

farahtissaiamyloves · 2 months

Note

Are your requests on? If so could I request something with Andromache? I love her and there’s not enough fanfiction out there with her

-Ara

Capture

Andromache of Scythia x reader

Note: I know that I've been gone for months. However, I've been preparing for the most important examinations of my life, and it's been really stressful for me. I hope you enjoy this and thanks again to Ara for the amazing request.

You were looking out of the only window of your room - more like a cell, but you had come to accept that long ago.

You considered yourself lucky - what they did to Quynh was by far worse from what was happening to you.

At least that's what you had convinced yourself.

Dying again and again, only to be brought back to life to die once again deep down the sea, was horrible.

However, being captured for (you had lost count) something more than 4 centuries was even more horrific.

You missed your best friend, of course you did, but the emptiness that washed over you at your wife's absence was something else.

You and Andy were the first immortal warriors. She had found you pretty quickly. You hadn't even understood when you died or what the weird dreams were before she sat you down and explained.

You hadn't been apart ever since. Spending every single day next to her was a privilege and a gift.

You learned so many things from her. After all, Andromache had already been alive for 300 years.

After spending a s couple of decades traveling around the world with her as your only company, it came to no surprise for neither of you when you ended up sleeping together one night.

And that night proved to be the beginning of the most wonderful thing that ever happened to both of your lives.

You loved every second of it.

You being wrapped in her arms while she was kissing the top of your head or you caressing her naked, extremely soft skin as she was wrapping a blanket around the two of you; Andy couldn't have her beloved baby catch a cold.

You teared up recalling your wife. Your beloved wife.

You wrapped your hands around your legs and pushed them against your chest.

You missed her.

You missed her so much.

After 5000 years and a couple of centuries, you were finally divided.

You looked up as you saw the door opening.

A paramedic came in with a huge needle.

Here we go again.

꧁☾︎❥︎☽︎꧂

Andy looked at the only building standing in the area. The only building among a plethora of trees and all kinds of plants.

" Alright, Joe, remind us one last time what we are her for. " Andy spoke.

" We are here to save all the girls/women those people experiment on. We don't know more, including the number of either the victims or the security agents, which means that caution is strongly recommended. " The man pointed out.

The rest of the team nodded, listening carefully.

Little did they know about who the real guinea pig was.

꧁☾︎❥︎☽︎꧂

They killed, killed, and killed once again.

They found countless of the latest laboratory equipment, yet no girl or woman asking for their help.

The team knew that it wasn't a trap.

No trap would have been equipped with so many tools costing millions.

Andy was growing more and more frustrated.

For a human with that much of an experience, she should have caught on by now.

" Guys, I think I found it. " Nicky whispered, pointing with his gun at the only door of the corridor at their right.

They as silently as they could run to it. The door did look like a cell. A bulletproof door with a password was always placed to hide something important, and the group came to this very same building for something important.

If they weren't able to free any innocents, they could at least learn what the fuck was happening there to put a stop to it.

Joe placed some light explosives on the door, telling everybody to buck off, which they were more than eager to do.

He pushed the button and a loud sound was heard, shortly followed by the sound of the door falling on the floor.

The team immediately raised their weapons and entered the room, shouting that they were armed.

Nile, who was the first to get in, quickly scanned the whole room and announced to everybody what they could already see with their bare eyes. " It's empty. "

Realizing that it was just a simple bedroom, the team was to turn away until Nicky pointed at the bed. " I think someone's sleeping there. "

" Don't be ridiculous. Wouldn't have they heard the explosives ? " Nile jumped in.

" Not if they were dragged. Guys, I think we found our victim. " Andy spoke slowly, walking to the bed.

She noticed that the person was fully covered by the blanket, so she slowly pulled it off only to freeze midway.

Andy knew that sleeping face.

Truth be told, she knew it better than her own face.

She had traced it countless of times with her fingertips.

She had seen all kinds of emotions on that face.

" A-Andy ? Is something wrong ? " Nile inquired, feeling beyond confused with the leader's teared up face.

" Shhhhh. "

Nile turned to look at both Joe and Nicky, giving her stern glances.

" What ? " She asked again, unable to understand where her wrongdoing was.

" Oh my love. I thought you were dead. " Andy whispered, kissing the top of your head.

She, then, turned to the couple. " Me and Nile are going to get her to the safe house. You make sure to clear everybody out and destroy this place. Nobody should know anything concerning our immortality. Was I clear ? "

" Yes, boss. "

" Good. "

꧁☾︎❥︎☽︎꧂

You slowly opened your eyes.

Sleeping under the influence of whatever drugs they were giving you had the luck and the curse of having no dreams.

You blinked, taking in your surroundings.

No.

Not again.

You hated when they were changing your room because that meant that they had given you strong enough medication to sleep for days.

Suddenly feeling unwell, you instinctively placed a hand on top of your head, and with the other, you pulled the blanket to cover you completely.

" You've already slept for at least 10 hours, I recommend waking up, eating something, and walking around for a while. " Suddenly, a voice interrupted your thoughts.

Your blood froze for a whole second, thinking that your wife just talked to you.

However, you knew better. Drugs have side effects. They made sure you knew each and every single one.

You didn't move - not even to look, still remembering how heartbroken you had been the last time you did - and closed your eyes to sleep.

" Darling, did you hear me ? " Andy made her voice sweeter, waiting for you to move and see her sitting on the armchair near the bed.

Andromache waited a couple of minutes to watch the lack of reaction. Maybe your hearing had been impacted, or maybe you were still hazy due to being drugged the day prior.

The woman sighed, sitting up.

" Sleep well, sweating. " She wished kissing the top of the blanket - where your forehead was.

꧁☾︎❥︎☽︎꧂

You were frozen on the spot. Your mind running a million miles per second.

In the back of your mind you registered her steps and the door opening and closing.

You felt it. You felt her lips through the blanket.

Your wife was here.

She rescued you.

You teared up, unable to resist.

Your wife came for you.

She hadn't forgotten about you.

She still loved you.

Your hand reached the other pillow of the bed. Slowly, as you were still slightly hazy from your sleep, you moved your head on top of it.

It was her.

Her smell.

She had you sleep on her bed.

How long had it been since you shared one.

You immediately wrapped your hands around it and pulled Andy's pillow onto your chest.

You loved her so, so much.

However, still being under the influence of the drug, you quickly fell asleep once again.

This time with your beautiful wife on your mind.

꧁☾︎❥︎☽︎꧂

Andromache came back into the room after a couple of hours.

She had to make sure that everything was taken care of as well as cook you some food.

Andy quietly set the tray down at the bedside table and looked at you.

A smile formed on her face as she noticed your figure wrapped around her pillow.

" Darling, you have to wake up. " She whispered with her sweetest voice next yo your ear.

You whined and turned your face away from her, burying your face in her pillow.

Andromache gently shook your shoulder while leaving small kisses wherever she could reach, mainly your shoulder.

You opened your eyes, slowly turning to face your one and true love, the very person to whom you have devoted yourself for a couple of thousand years.

Still feeling dizzy, you sleepily smiled at her as you reached to caress her cheek. " Morning. " Your voice was way too harsh than your normal one, as you realized you had probably spent a day without a single drop of water.

Andy kissed your forehead lovingly. She brought a cup of water to your lips and propelled you to drink some.

You happily did as Andy wanted you to, too dizzy to oppose her (not that you would have, you were quite thirsty).

As Andromache placed the cup of water back to its place, you took the chance to wrap your hands around her waist and bury your head in her neck.

Your wife chuckled at your adorable reaction and embraced you back, pulling your body closer to her.

" God, I thought you were dead. " She whispered, continuing washing your body with kisses.

" I... " You stopped midsentence, not sure about how what you intended to say would sound to her.

Andy gently messaged your sculp, silently propelling you to talk to her.

You took a deep breath as you turned to look at her with teary eyes. " I wish I was... "

Andy took your face in her arms. " No. No. Don't you dare ever say that. "

You shook your head, casting your gaze downward. " But, it's true. "

" If you had died, my love, we would have never reunited, would we ? " Andromache countered.

You hesitantly looked upward, at her beautiful striking eyes. " It was torture. "

Your wife gave you a sad smile. " I know. I know... But the important thing is that you are here, in my arms, safe and sound. "

You nodded reciprocating the gesture. " Indeed. "

" And just like back then.... We have all the time in the world to do whatever we please. " Andy's smile widened as her eyes narrowed meaningfully.

You laughed a little, wondering how could a single person delete 400 years of torture, but then again.

That person was your beloved wife.

Your Andy.

#andy the scythian x reader #charlize theron #andy the scythian #andy andromache of scythia #andromache x reader #andromache x you #the old guard

45 notes · View notes

annie-creates · 1 year

Text

You can call me Andy

Pairing: Andromache of Scythia x reader

Genre: fluff (I guess)

Words: 900

Note: Happy International Women's Day! Let's celebrate with empowering women. Please be aware possible trigger of the loss of a child is mentioned here.

Hot red. That’s all you could see amongst the walls of thick smoke. The fire was burning hot, making your skin sweat under the heavy suit. It might have protected you from the flames but it did nothing for the suffocating feeling inside. You should have stayed outside with your squad, that’s what the orders said. Instead you threw yourself into the burning house on the mention of a missing child. If there was even an insignificant chance of saving said child, you’d take it.

You became a firefighter few years ago. It was never in your dreams nor imagined future, but after your life turned upside down it felt right. You needed to do something with yourself. Your husband divorced you few months after the funeral of your little baby girl. A few minutes of his mother’s inattention and your toddler couldn’t be saved. Imagine coming home to be told your baby has drown.

No amount of therapy or church visits could take the pain away. You tried to keep your marriage intact but it fell into pieces, with both of you overwhelmed with rage and guilt. You moved apartments, found a new job, got a hobby. But no matter what you did, you couldn’t escape the blame and nightmares.

Now you were running through the house as fast as you could, trying to find the child before your lungs won’t be able to handle it anymore. Your radio cracked with statics, the stern voice of your commander pushing its way through the thick air.

“Y/l/n, we have the child, get out of the house,” you could barely understand him over the cackling. “I repeat, get out of there!” you didn’t need much more convincing to flee the scene, trying to maneuver your path out of the burning hell. Your eyes were burning and you could hardly see your own steps, lungs nearly collapsing filled with smoke and ash. You could almost see the light from outside, when your vision turned black and your racing thoughts silenced your mind.

The first thing you’ve heard was machine beeping. Some regular, some unsteady. You leveled your breathing to the signals. Then you felt with your fingers and toes, the scratchy fabric of bedding. Slowly you opened your eyes, adjusting to the sharp light of the room. You were in what seemed to be a hospital room, surrounded by monitors and enginery. You lied in bed and your chief was just coming through the door.

“You’re up, good. You gave us a pretty crazy scare back there Y/l/n. Really we thought you’d be into pieces.” he shook his head assessing all the improbably scenarios how you survived. “But look at you, all up and in one piece. It’s like a miracle. You better not try that again.” with that he went back out to the hall, talking to a nurse.

You’ve spent the rest of the day being checked and questioned things from which you didn’t have answers to many. How did you survive a whole house collapsing onto you without as much as a scratch? How did your lungs and body just not give up? You couldn’t answer those questions even if you tried. Maybe it was God’s doing, deciding it’s not the time for you to go yet. Maybe you were gifted a second chance to save more lives and make things right.

You woke up to a consistent pinching to your leg. The room was darker and you could see the night sky out the window, clear indication you shouldn’t be awake at this hour. But the lady standing next to you had obviously thought differently.

“Get up,” was all she said throwing a pile of clothes on your bed.

“Excuse me..?” your sleep clouded mind had trouble processing all of this. “What..?”

“You think you survived by some miracle? You didn’t. You died, now you’re immortal and they know. We need to get out,” she clearly had a very low patience as she started aggressively shoving you to move when you didn’t get up immediately.

“What are you talking about!?” you mimicked her hushed tone, not really sure why you’re whispering in otherwise empty hospital room.

“You want to see for yourself?” she invited you to the door window, shoving you a pair of army officers in the hall, apparently investigating or guarding something. “Now, if you’d please get dressed so we can get out of here it’d be much appreciated.”

You did as she said, not really having many other choices. If it was any other situation, you’d argue with this stranger, but you’ve experienced so much weird stuff today you didn’t even question it anymore. Or maybe you were just too sleep deprived and groggy. Once you got dresses she took you by the hand, guiding you out to sneak around the guards through different hallways and corridors.

But it wouldn’t be your cursed luck someone didn’t notice you as you were exiting the building and didn’t call after you, successfully making everyone on the floor aware. Soon you were being chased by five security guards across the parking lot, hopping into a car parked nearby.

“Get in!” the woman commanded and you happily obeyed. She sped onto the street, maneuvering through the traffic.

“What’s going on? Who are you?” you questioned trying to catch your breath.

“Andromache the Scythian. But you can call me Andy.”

#andromache of scythia x reader #andromache the scythian x reader #andromache x reader #andromache x you #andromache the scythian #andromache of scythia #charlize theron #fanfic #fanfiction

109 notes · View notes