#andromache x reader
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“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
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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.
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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?”
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“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.
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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.
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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.
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this is how i imagine leo would look like as a cat
#andromache of scythia x reader#andromache the scythian x reader#andromache of scythia#andromache x reader#andy andromache of scythia#the old guard#andy x reader#lady lesso x reader#leonora lesso x reader#lady leonora lesso x reader#lady leonora lesso#lady lesso#leonora lesso#character x reader#charlize theron x reader#charlize theron#fanfic#soulmates#joe and nicky#joe x nicky#nile freeman#yusuf al kaysani#nicolo di genova#booker#quynh the old guard#quynh#labrys#light angst#leo the familiar
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Secrets & Sketches
Andromache the Scythian x f!reader
I decided to create a series of loosely related one shots for Andromache (my beloved). Here’s part 1 and part 2
Summary: You were always staring at her, not knowing she was staring back.
TW: None?
Word count: +5,100
Author's Note: Hi y'all. Here's some slightly domestic fluff before the action happens and the stakes skyrocket through the roof.
Despite never having lived with four strangers before, it turned out that your new situation offered you far more privacy than you had ever experienced while living with your mother.
The woman had a compulsive need to control every aspect of your life, from what you wore to what you ate. You were barely even safe in the bathroom. The years had taught you to lie with your words and carefully crafted smiles. Knowing what she wanted to hear from you and how you could appease her temper was like mastering a second language. Your skills in the craft became more and more refined throughout the years and your confidence ultimately grew. But you underestimated your mother and made the greatest mistake of them all.
“I know you’re lying to me! What are you trying to hide from me, you ungrateful whore?”
A picture frame nearly collided with your head, chipping the door frame instead of scratching your face. The glass shattered on the floor and your body jumped twice, once at the sound and another time when your eyes settled on the damage and found that your favorite childhood photo with your grandmother was destroyed.
“Whatever you did, I will find out! You cannot lie to me, I am your mother!”
It was one afternoon you had wanted all to yourself to go see the movie Roman Holiday after school. The charismatic Audrey Hepburn, riding on a Vespa with the largest smile you had ever seen, caused strange feelings to stir in your stomach when you had first watched the trailer. She was a princess masquerading as a commoner in order to freely experience the wonders of the Eternal City. Oh, how you envied her character. Your mother, however, could only focus on how short her hair was. The shortest your hair had ever been was when you were a fresh newborn. Once it grew past your upper back, you were never allowed to cut it, despite all the other girls you knew being able to short styles.
“How disappointing.” She scoffed when a clip of her getting her haircut played. “Such a beautiful young woman and she wants to make herself look like a man? I really don’t understand your generation, you’re all confused.”
When you arrived home late that evening, she refused to believe the lie you had produced about giving some tutoring lessons after school. It was only two days later that she found the proof she wanted. While snooping through your journal she came across the movie ticket you had pasted next to your latest entry. She burned the entire thing as only one portion of your punishment.
How your mother could predict your actions, anticipate your every move, and see through every single one of your lies you did not know. It was like she knew you and how your mind functioned but could never truly understand how suffocated you felt by the twisted ways she expressed her “love” for you. She was your mother, the closest kin you had left after your grandmother’s passing and the woman that had known you for your entire existence. The fact that she birthed you was one she’d never let you forget, yet you knew she would spend your entire life trying to mold you into something you weren’t if she could. If she could never accept you then how could anybody else?
Then you met Andy, who always seemed to be in tune with whatever you were thinking. Hell, she could practically guess your thoughts word for word without even really trying, yet not once did it ever feel like she was violating your mind as your mother had. You were almost completely certain that she was fully aware of the times when you were drawing her. It was impossible not to see the art in her movements. She’d be doing something mundane yet slightly active such as washing the dishes and you’d pull your sketchbook out. The moment you put pencil to paper she would slow down ever-so-slightly. A plate that needed maybe two wipes suddenly took four or more to clean. She must have known what she was doing to you, softly smirking as she folded laundry
But did she know what it was doing to you? How intensely you felt about her and as more than just an art subject, more than someone you merely admired. Pages full of sketches, varying in detail and design, became dedicated to capturing the alluring domestic side of the ancient warrior. Every angle, every shadow was carefully reconstructed (to the best of your ability anyway) as if to preserve each moment and time so that your eyes may never forget what she looked like chopping onions on a rainy Tuesday evening. A brief moment that might be incredibly insignificant for a being that has walked the earth for thousands of years, but one that was still so precious to you. The time you spent together, even the moments everyone else might consider to be dull, were filled with color all because of her.
Why she allowed you to draw her so frequently was something you couldn’t quite figure out. This rather untraditional dance the two of you engaged in was never spoken about in words. There was no doubt that Andy would have said something much earlier had she been uncomfortable being drawn by you. A part of you enjoyed entertaining the idea that, perhaps in some small way, Andy might actually return your feelings. But at the same time, you didn’t want to be wrong and come off as an artistic creep trying to invade her privacy.
The good thing was you never had to worry about any of the others looking through your sketchbook. The one time Joe had asked if he could take a peek it hadn’t even crossed your mind that you could have said ‘no’ to him. But the smallest bit of hesitance that he had seen in your eyes as you prepared to hand over your most personal and sacred treasure immediately stopped him.
“Y/N, you don’t actually have to show me anything if you don’t want to. I was merely curious but no part of me would be offended if you want to keep your art to yourself. I will always respect your privacy first.”
His words were almost foreign to you, like ones you had only ever read on pages and later discovered were pronounced completely differently when you finally heard them spoken out loud. Still, you knew Joe meant everything he said. Though all of your new companions were certainly capable of it, none of them had ever once tried to deceive you or keep you hidden from the truth. Previously living with a pathological liar had taught you all the signs you needed to know and not once had you found a single one since joining the old guard.
It was a bit startling how safe you already felt with these few strangers you had only met a few short weeks ago. You could talk to all of them about (almost) anything, although you did worry that your endless amount of questions might annoy any one of the unnaturally older beings. Sometimes you nearly cringed at the thought of how ignorant and stupid you must have appeared in their eyes. It mostly motivated you to contribute where you could. Cooking and cleaning were not tasks you necessarily enjoyed, but it felt nice to make some type of contribution to the team. Still, you longed to prove yourself as something more, to help save lives and make Andy, Booker, Joe, and Nico proud. And maybe, just maybe, if you became worthy enough of someone like your rescuer, she might look at you differently.
┊ ┊┊
It was nearing morning hours and your endless thoughts hadn’t allowed you to sleep yet. There was a buzzing in your body, making it impossible to fully relax, even though you knew you had a busy day of training ahead of you and you needed the rest. You tried to conjure up the comforting sound of Andy’s steady heartbeat as you imagined her lying next to you, only to grow even more anxious when you began feeling guilty for indulging in such thoughts.
Did she even like women the way you did? You certainly had your suspicions and noticed the way her heart seemed to break anytime there was a mention of Quynh. The necklace that never left her neck also appeared to hold a great amount of pain and significance to her. But even if you were right, Andy had never brought up any details regarding her love life and you were determined to respect that undiscussed boundary. The tossing and turning was just an unfortunate side effect that eventually had you cave in and get up to grab a drink from the kitchen.
“Can’t sleep?” The voice of the very person you had been thinking of came from behind you as soon as you had turned on a small lamp. You let out a nervous laugh and kept a steady hand on your chest when you caught her smiling directly at you. It made you take some extra time while getting your glass of water so that your heartbeat had a chance to settle.
Andy sat at the bar sipping on a mug of coffee. Even with the light being so dim, you didn’t need it to tell her beverage was completely black.
“I still don’t know how you’re able to drink that. Every time I try it it’s like trying to swallow hot liquid dirt.”
“Really?” The Scythian chuckled and you prayed the darkness would hide your melted expression. “That’s surprising considering how you drown yours in milk and sugar.”
“Hey, we can’t all be as tough as you.”
“No one said you had to be. No one said you weren’t already.” You supposed you were tough in the context of being able to override death itself, but besides that, it wasn’t a character trait you ever considered yourself to have. Even the immortality thing was basically a fluke.
The dark haired woman gestured for you to sit down and you awkwardly lowered yourself into the chair across from her. Your glass of water looked silly standing next to her more refined drink. “Yeah, that’s me. I got tough hands covered in paper cuts and callouses from drawing.”
“Art is tough for a lot of people. It’s tough for me. I could never quite get the emotional vulnerability part down and I feel like all the best art pulls from that. I would say you could probably teach me a thing or two about drawing but you have something more inborn than that. It can’t be taught.”
“But you’ve never seen my work?” Had she? You didn’t think she’d go through your things without your permission but there was definiteness in her tone that told you her words were true.
“No,” she shrugged. Nothing in her seemed to waver. “I don’t need to. There’s this look you get in your eyes when you’re completely focused on drawing that seems to transport you to this different world. I always wonder where you go but don’t want to tear you away when you’re clearly inspired.”
You had been staring at her for so long believing that she was merely tolerating your strange behavior. You assumed she simply felt unbothered. The idea that she might have been secretly staring back never once crossed your mind.
“You… You watch me?” A beat passed and your brain short circuited, unsure of what kind of answer you even hoped to hear. If she did then was it with the same unspoken desire you held in your heart that you could be worthy of her one day? No, it had to be something far from that. Your awkward, uncoordinated behavior could only be considered entertaining at best if Andy didn’t find you pitiable. You imagined it was like watching your neighbor’s beagle after they arrived home from a medical procedure at the vet. The poor thing was so loopy yet unaware that he couldn’t walk in a straight line. Every few steps he took he’d also crumble to the floor before eagerly trying to get back up and making another attempt with the same results. That’s what she must see whenever she saw you trip over your own feet. Or how silly you looked the other day when Booker tried to show you how to hold a pistol and you shook so hard that it fumbled out of your hands.
Even with all the time in the world, it was a struggle to see yourself ever truly earning your place among the rest of the guard one day. You not only lacked combat experience but had been thoroughly sheltered from the world by your mother. She hadn’t allowed you to participate in any sports, not even the more feminine ones like dance or golf. The result was barely being able to do a push-up and having the wind knocked out of your lungs after only a brief jog.
The others had started you off with some basic self defense techniques, which caused you to wake up with sore muscles you hadn’t even known existed. Everyone was extremely patient with you, stressing the importance of slowly building up your strength and reminding you that there was no rush to suddenly reach their skill level when they’d been fighting for longer than some of the strongest empires had lasted. But then you’d watch them training together or listen to one of them recount several of the missions they completed while you were stuck waiting in the safe house. They were out there saving lives, as well as literally sacrificing their own, while you could only hope to one day do the same.
In the back of your head you could hear your mother berating you for having such ridiculous dreams. If she could see you struggling to learn a pull up she would certainly laugh at your miserable attempts. But Andy didn’t look at you like you were “perfectly pathetic” as your mother often described. No, she seemed to stare at you softly, which made you feel like you were the only person she was thinking about.
“I find you interesting. More specifically, it’s been a pleasure to watch you grow into yourself these past few weeks. You look much more relaxed.”
You were fairly relaxed, aside from the fact that your heart was currently threatening to jump out of your chest. Or if physicists could somehow harness its energy then it could power the entire world. She had just admitted to finding you interesting and you were supposed to answer back in words. You took a painfully slow drink.
“Well, it has been nice being able to make my own decisions and not have someone constantly looking over my shoulder.” You think back to an instance where you were recently baking a lemon glaze cake for the team and some icing stuck to your fingers. Immediately, you went to wash your hands as your mother would have insisted upon when it occurred to you that she no longer had control over you. Licking your fingers after that had never felt so satisfying. “Even the little choices I’m able to make now are kind of exciting. Is that strange to say?”
“Not at all.” Andy shook her head. “It’s a beautiful thing, seeing how far you’ve come in such a short amount of time. Not to mention how glad I am that you feel safe enough around us to be yourself.”
A pang of guilt ran through you. What must she think of you if you were keeping cryptic drawings of her a secret? “I really do, which is why I don’t want you to believe I’m trying to hide things from you! Not forever, at least. I trust you, and perhaps it’s more than I’ve ever trusted anyone else. But with my drawings… I suppose it’s rather complicated and I’ve never willingly shown them to anyone before. They’re nothing inappropriate, though! I would never do anything like that.”
Before you could completely melt into a puddle of despair, Andy reached for your forearm, anchoring the two of you together while helping to calm you down. Her hand was warmed from holding her hot mug.
“Hey, it’s alright, I trust you too. You don’t need to explain yourself to me. I’m flattered about the drawings and it’s nothing to be embarrassed about. I can wait until you’re ready to show them to me when you feel comfortable doing so.”
It was completely vexatious how patient Andy could be with you, or how she always seemed to know the right thing to say to make you feel better. She possessed the ability to soothe the fears you understood intimately along with the others which you had tried to suppress and nearly forgotten about. You simply weren’t used to being treated in such a way.
“How are you so patient with me all the time?” Your question came off more irritated than you intended, making you cringe inwardly. You weren’t even sure what you were really asking about.
In the few moments it took Andy to start processing the question, your thoughts finally began to come together and spill out all at once.
“I’m deeply appreciative of how understanding you’ve been, don’t get me wrong, but when I imagine myself in your position, it must be frustrating. You do so much for me, all four of you do, but you especially. I’m always needing your help with countless things even though I have nothing of use to offer in return. You’re all incredibly worldly people, capable of doing more than I ever have even before your first deaths. I’ve been kept sheltered my entire life and probably wouldn’t last a day on my own. Having me join the team probably feels a lot more like babysitting than anything else, yet you never complain about it.”
Even though you knew it wasn’t in her nature, sometimes you wished she would allow herself to be angry with you. Or if she even expressed the slightest bit of irritation then that might make you feel better somehow. You waited for Andy to tell you that you sounded ridiculous, or to make another comment about your tendency to overthink things. Nothing like that ever came.
In one swift, breathtaking movement, her hand carefully tilted your chin up towards her face so that you were caught in her stare. The skin of her thumb was rough and her green-blue eyes bore into your own, tender yet determined as they searched for something deep in your soul. Though her touch was completely innocent, it was also intensely intimate from your perspective at least. You wanted to bear your entire being to her, consciously preparing your mind and body to take in whatever words she was about to say.
“Y/N, listen to me. There is nothing you owe me. Relationships aren’t transactional and I enjoy being able to help you. You also didn’t choose this life and I can’t hold what you don’t know against you. I won’t lie and say patience comes to me easily. Truthfully, when you get to my age everything is frustrating. I’ve seen… far too much in my life aside from any type of explanation for it all and it has made me bitter. But you don’t deserve any of that and I don’t want to be that type of person anymore. I don’t ever want to turn my back on people I care about again.”
Her eyes glossed over with the hue of a haunting memory, something from her past clearly bothering her. She let go of you in the crest of the emotion and you nearly whimpered when you lost her touch, but found the rare opportunity to offer Andy the comfort she needed.
“I may not know much in the grand scheme of things, but I know you’re not bitter. Truly bitter people try to tear down everyone around them because there’s nothing misery loves more than company. You’re nothing like my mother, she wanted to control me and keep me trapped in a life where I could never have my own happiness. You set me free. Anyway, it would be hard to live as long as you have, see the things that you’ve seen, and not become discouraged with all of the wickedness that has happened throughout history. What matters is that you’ve continued to fight for others that wouldn’t normally stand a chance on their own. If you were actually as bitter as you think, you could turn your back on everyone without a single care in the world. I see how much you care for others, Andy. Bitter people only care about themselves and I don’t see how you can believe you’re one of them.”
The fact that you were so young was partially why Andy felt the need to hold herself back and take things slow with you. Although your life would never be normal, she wanted to give you the chance to choose your own path and chase whatever dreams you fancied. Right now, it was crucial to prepare you for the world and to teach you how to keep your shared secret safe. But she knew you’d want to adventure out on your own at some point, and that you’d probably want to experiment with other partners closer to your age. Andy was aware of the baggage she carried, as well as the fact that the nature of your relationship meant she held a type of influence over you. She would never allow herself to take advantage of you like that.
But one thing she couldn’t let you do was downplay yourself, not when your words touched her in ways she hadn’t felt in thousands of years.
“Do you really believe you’re of no use at all and have nothing to offer? Y/N, I’ve traveled to every corner of the world and met the wisest individuals that still led directionless and unfulfilled lives. They thought of themselves too highly, pushed others away, and in the end their knowledge meant nothing when they were unable to make meaningful connections. You have all the time you need to perfect your knowledge and learn every skill that exists or will develop in the future.”
Your head tilted in perplexity.
“What? You think we had phones or electricity back when I was growing up? I didn’t learn how to drive a car until late last century. It was really like the blind leading the blind in those early days.”
Imagining a Victorian era Andy accidentally crashing a motorized carriage or angrily shaking her fist at experimental drivers from atop of her horse was certainly entertaining. You wondered if the two of you would ever share a similar experience together.
Temporarily distracted by your smile, Andy nearly forgot the importance of the message she was trying to convey to you.
“Y/N, you’re right that you’ve never really been given the chance to grow before all of this. None of that was your fault. The wonderful thing now is that you’re on your way to becoming smarter, like anybody else can when given the right tools. What you already have, your emotional strength and intelligence, is far more rare and valuable in my eyes. You teach me to look at things from a different perspective even when I’ve felt stuck in my ways for hundreds of years. Don’t overlook how much of an impact you can make or how much we all appreciate you.”
“Andy… I… Thank you.” You try not to cry, though you know she wouldn’t judge you if you did. Viewing your emotions as a strength is something that you never considered before. They were always a weakness back when you experienced nothing but misery, and now everything couldn’t be more different. Your new life was full of evenings spent getting tipsy and laughing at the stories your friends told you of places and times that sounded unreal. It was wanting the taste of more, the promise of the adventures that lay before you and the people you would get to share them with. It was a life you could hardly believe was real and you got to spend every single day with a woman that made your heart race with a single smile. Even if she never felt the same way about you, there was no chance that you’d trade your time with Andy for anything or anyone else. “Thank you for everything. I’m glad I get to experience all of this with you.”
She almost let her resolve crumble upon hearing your words. The grip around her drink tightened, heating up her flesh to a tender sting but she persevered through it. She knew that if she touched you again then it would all be over. There would be no way she could let go.
“As exciting as everything can be, I can’t help but feel nervous for what’s to come. I worry that no matter how hard I train I won’t be prepared. No matter how much I learn, there is bound to be something I overlook.”
How right you were.
“One thing I can tell you is that there are some things you’re never ready for, even if you spend centuries preparing. People, history, and almost everything I’ve encountered follow some type of pattern maybe 99% of the time. But all it takes is that 1% chance of randomness to make life unpredictable. Even the most meticulous of plans can end up going sideways. At the end of the day, I always ask myself why I’m here or why certain things happen and I’ve never been very close to an answer. There are questions I’ve carried with me for even longer than I can remember.”
It would have been quite terrifying to hear those words from anyone else besides Andy. If she still struggled to figure things out then you were practically cursed to be clueless for the rest of your existence. Although strangely enough, it was actually comforting to hear that she shared a similar sense of existential questioning. Both of you were human even if your lifespans or biology no longer were.
“Okay, but you must have a guess for when we’ll see flying cars at least. Or do you believe people will really be able to walk on Mars one day?”
A smooth attempt to cover up her broadening smile by lifting her coffee up to her mouth might have gone unnoticed if you hadn’t been so enamored by each one of Andy’s actions. She had a harder time hiding her eyes, which playfully rolled at your question.
“Sure, I suppose it’s possible. Hey, maybe you’ll be the first one and you can tell us all about it.”
“While the prospect of accomplishing something you’ve never done is intriguing, I wouldn’t want to do it without you.”
The words left your mouth, leaving only your pair of eyes holding hers throughout a deep silence. It wasn’t often that Andy looked like she was at a loss for words but this was definitely one of those times.
Quickly, you tried to cover up your confession with a stupid excuse. “I mean if there really are man-eating martians up there they’ll want to eat you first. You have way more muscle.”
“Right,” Andy laughed in agreement. “I guess that’s all I’m good for besides being a model for your artwork. Are you fast enough to draw me up there in time before I get turned into alien food?”
“Maybe.” You blushed and tried to go for Andy’s move to cover your face with your cup, only to realize that it was practically useless when it was made of glass.
“I, uh, really wanted to get some sleep tonight before waking up for early training but I guess I’m not doing a very good job at that.”
“Sleep in, you deserve the break. You’ve been pushing yourself really hard and should get to sleep in for once. There’s no need to overexert yourself.”
“Wait, aren’t you leaving for your mission around sunrise?” Andy was planning to look for some intel in the city and you knew she might be gone for up to a few days. “Wake me up before you go so I can say goodbye.”
For a moment, all the Scythian can do is try to memorize the look on your face, wishing that she could permanently sketch the vision on paper like you could. You gazed up at her with such innocence and devotion in your eyes, as if she was simply running to get milk from the grocery store the next morning. The team had actually glossed over the more important details about Andy’s assignment and what it would entail. It wasn’t that you were unaware of Andy’s brutal past and countless killings, but you still had yet to witness such violence. She couldn’t help but worry that witnessing that side of her would not only change how you saw her, but also influence your own self perception when the time came to take another life yourself. It was painful to imagine the countless amount of years you might spend plagued by inner turmoil, hating the person you would become even if it was inevitable. She’d die in a million more excruciating ways if it would shield you from such a curse.
“Andy, are you alright?” Your voice of concern brought her back to the present. There was a slight look of worry between your furrowed eyebrows that she wished to smooth out herself, but she practiced self restraint.
“Sorry, I guess I’m a little tired too. If you want me to wake you before I leave then I will.”
With a satisfied smile on your face, you nodded and rose from your seat. The urge to ask Andy if she might join you tugged at your heart. You always slept more soundly when it was in her arms. Your nightmares were much more infrequent by now and it had been some time since you had been able to fall asleep while breathing in her scent, snuggling deep into her chest. The temptation to voice your request was almost impossible to resist, save for the fear of jeopardizing your friendship and making her uncomfortable by revealing your feelings.
Eventually, you found yourself back in bed alone and replaying your conversation. One specific realization you couldn’t get over was that Andy had undoubtedly expressed some type of interest in the art you made of her. Sure, it’s possible that it might have been in a completely platonic sense, but you held onto the fantasy of it meaning something more and decided you’d keep it to yourself, for now.
#Andromache the Scythian x reader#andromache x reader#Andromache the scythian#the old guard#joe x nicky#booker#yusuf x nicolo#nicolo di genova#yusuf al kaysani#sebastien le livre#andy the scythian x reader#andromache the scythian x reader#immortal lesbians#Charlize Theron character
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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
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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
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STEAMY THOUGHT # 1
Just thinking how Andy would rail you after she found out she's not an immortal like everyone else in the team. No one knows it yet, not even you but after she attended to her wound, she goes home straight to you and kissed you deeply and passionately.
The positive vibe she had because she knows that she'll be able to grow old with you and not be left behind. She will not hurry this one up unlike other in the past because those times she thinks that you'll leave her behind soon.
The sex is slow but rough. She's savoring every reactions that your body is giving. She'll thrust in you from behind and would make you face the mirror. She'll take her time to really observe how your face will contort in every deep thrust she'll make.
OH how I wish it was me :((( Please find me an Andy!!! HAHAHAHAHA JK
#fanfic#gxglesbianlgbt#gxg#lgbtq#gxg imagine#charlize theron#andromache the scythian#andy x reader#andromache x reader#old guard
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Charlize Theron Masterlist
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The Old Guard
Andromache of Scythia
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The School for Good and Evil
Leonora Lesso
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Atomic Blonde
Lorraine Broughton
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Gringo
Elaine Markinson
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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
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Masterlist
One shots
Lady Lesso x Reader
I'd choose you over everyone. | Fluff
Lorraine Broughton x Reader
I have my ways. | Fluff-Angst
Cipher x Reader
!System Error! | Angst
Series
The Writer's Reader | LL x OC
1. Chapter
2. Chapter
Conversations
Charlize Theron × GN!Reader
Choking
Flirting
Crush
#charlize theron x reader#lady lesso x reader#charlotte field x reader#andromache x reader#elaine markinson x reader#lorraine broughton x reader#cipher x reader
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okay but andromache the scythian with a Reader that has her period
And you get all squirmy, trying to warn her off
But Andy pins your hips to the mattress, teasing her lips along yours, murmuring, "You think after all this time, a little blood is going to scare me off, little girl?"
#Andromache x Reader#Andromache x You#andromache of scythia x You#i TOLD Y'ALL. i warned you. i told you this would make me insufferable
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The Old Guard characters: Are they top, switch or bottom?
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Andy
Top
Andy is a top 100% Andy's confidence and control in personal moments may come from her many years of experience, strong leadership qualities, and a deep sense of control. Shaped by a long life with challenges, her assertiveness and strong presence could make her play a dominant role.
Nicky
Top
Nicky's strength comes from centuries of shared experiences, showcasing not only physical prowess but also a capacity for comfort, tenderness, and a sense of security. His inclination to take charge reveals a desire to nurture and protect, creating a relationship dynamic that highlights both physical and emotional intimacy.
Nile
Switch (with top preference)
Nile Freeman as a switch with a preference for being a top, draws on her military background, growing confidence, and adaptability. Her leadership qualities and assertiveness from military training make her a natural top. Yet, her openness to new experiences and willingness to learn could lead to switch dynamics, allowing for a flexible exchange of dominant and submissive roles based on her relationships. This portrayal highlights Nile's versatility and strength, both emotionally and physically, during sex.
Joe
Switch (bottom preference)
During sex, Joe's depiction as a switch reflects the complex nature of his character. Rooted in his adaptability, poetic sensibility, and deep emotional connection with his boyfriend (you), Joe seamlessly shifts between dominant and submissive roles.
Booker
Top
During sex, Booker being in control might come from his long life, resilience, and a wish to take charge. Shaped by his choices and wisdom, he takes on a strong role, bringing stability and strength to his relationships.
Merrick
Top
Steven Merrick, depicted as a dominant top, draws on his power, control, and manipulation tendencies. His authoritative demeanor, coupled with a desire for dominance in many areas of his life, might extend into intimate moments. This portrayal emphasizes his need for control and exploitation even in personal relationships.
#headcanons#preferences#merrick the old guard#joe the old guard#nile the old guard#andy the old guard#nicky the old guard#the old guard#booker the old gaurd#steven merrick x reader#joe x reader#nile freeman x reader#andy x reader#andromache the scythian#andromache x reader#nicky x reader#booker x reader
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Charlize Theron characters reaction to you being jealous of them?
hii, longtime no see haha. Seemed like a fun idea :)
None of the gifs are mine!
Lady Lesso
- Oh boy
- She’s enjoying herself plenty
- Lesso could have been flirting with someone else, or someone flirted with her
- She sees you
- Out of the corner of her eye
- Fuming
- She certainly is enjoying herself
- She likes to tease you
- In any way possible
- She might be flirting harmlessly, and it doesn’t mean anything but to see you get so worked up
- She’s in a dream
- She gets “pouty” when you later wont speak to her
- You could be sitting with crossed arms, a hurt look on your face
- She could sit down next to you, play innocent
- And she is good, in a way ;)
- She ends up sitting on her knees, leaning into you
- Doesn’t matter if you continue to move away from her, her grip is firm
- Whispers soft little evil things in your ear
- Soft little kisses, later turned into bites
- She gets her way in the end, of course she does
- She always wins when it comes to you ;)
Charlotte Field
- Now, this is a little different
- She’s more the type to be jealous and insecure about you
- Because she works 24/7 and never has a spare moment, so she always worries that you’ll find someone else
- But you yourself have had your doubts
- Specifically when it involves the Canadian prime minister
- Specially when they danced together and had dinner together and that online romance that came after
- Charlotte always reassures you
- In more ways than just one ;)
Adromache
- I don’t think she’d make you jealous intentionally
- She doesn’t find the need to, or wants to
- Now, when Nile joins you, and you see how close she becomes to Andy, you could start to feel insecure
- Andy would think you’d be ridiculous
- But she understands you, In a way
- She’ll reassure you
- Deep talk
- Makes sure you listen to her, makes sure you understand her
- Makes sure you understand how much she loves you
- Perhaps she might think it a little funny
- Who knows? :)
Elaine Markinson
- She does it on a daily basis
- Much like Lesso
- Finds it amusing to tease you
- LOVES it
- Acts all innocent and acts like she has no clue about what you’re talking about
- She’s a bit like Lesso in the way she’ll be when you stop talking to her
- She’d sit on your lap, play with your hair
- Say little things that twist in your mind
- It ends in different ways of course
- Anyhow, Elaine’s lipstick is all over you
Lorraine Broughton
- Now she’s also a bit like both Lesso and Elaine
- She finds it a little amusing
- She isn’t doing it on purpose, of course not :)
- In a club, many have eyes for her
- And Lorraine doesn’t always dress in long dresses and sleeves and slacks
- She finds it funny you think she’d want someone else
- Sue loves you, and that’s it for her
#ask#lady lesso x reader#charlotte field x reader#andromache of scythia x reader#queen ravenna x reader#elaine markinson x reader#lorriane broughton x reader
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“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
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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
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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
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Too scared to let go
Andromache the Scythian x reader
After waking up because of Nile dreaming about Quynh.
You were sat in silence hearing the boys explaining to the young woman who that woman was.
When the talk ended, silence washed over you.
Until footsteps were heard.
You all turned to see your wife appearing in the doorway.
She looked at you for a second before focusing on Nile and propelling her to walk outside with her.
You all sat in front of the TV to watch the match when suddenly the door exploded next to you.
And everything went black.
꧁☾︎❥︎☽︎꧂
Nile and Andy froze hearing the explosion. They exchanged a worried glance.
Andy pulled out her gun and motioned to Nile to stay close behind her.
The women walked in silence with great carefulness.
They entered the room which they left a couple of minutes ago.
Andy's eyes widened seeing your dead body on the floor.
Yes, she noticed that Booker was sitting on the armchair, dead as well. And that Nicky and Joe had vanished.
But, you were more important.
She run to you. Took you in her hands.
" Darling ? Darling, please wake up. " Andromache begged as she shook your dead body.
You didn't move, the wound wasn't bleeding out either, though.
Andy wanted to cry.
She hated when this was happening.
When you were laying dead in her arms.
Tears run down her cheeks.
Tears that she felt unable to hold.
She lost two of her men. And the other two members of her small fireteam were both dead.
Out of the blue, a shaken breath was taken followed by a cough.
The boss looked up at Booker.
Andy let out a relieved sigh. At least one of the four was fine.
Her crying eyes left him to fall on her wife, again.
Your chest wasn't moving.
Your eyes were gating at the nothingness.
Your stomach and half of your face was far more destroyed than just burned.
" Darling. " Andy whispered resting her face on your neck.
There was no response from you.
Nile started doubting that you were to come back, totally ignoring the lack of blood.
A clear indication that your gift was still working.
Your lungs finally decided to work drawing a weak and shaky breath.
꧁☾︎❥︎☽︎꧂
You slowly opened your eyes. Your head was pounding.
You felt someone's hands wrapped around your weak frame.
Your eyes trailed down, still trying to adjust to the lights, or the absence of it.
You weren't quite sure yet.
You looked at the body shielding yours.
" Andy ? " You whispered.
Your wife slightly pulled away to look into your eyes.
The woman who was hugging you like her life depended on it, pulled slightly back to look at you.
" My love. " Any kissed your forehead before returning to her previous position.
There was no way she was going to leave you in this state to kill the bastards who did this to you before making sure that you were alright.
You wrapped your hands around her in a failed attempt to comfort her.
" Andy. " You spoke trying to grab her attention.
Andromache didn't respond, instead she buried her face in your hair smelling whatever remained of the sweet, strawberry scent of your shampoo.
" Andy. I'm healing. " You insisted. " I gonna be fine. " You patted her shoulder.
" Besides, your hold is too strong... I can't breathe. " You added.
You wife immediately pulled away. Andy would have never wanted to be the reason of you being suffocated or hurt.
You smiled at her as you caressed her cheek. " See ? I'm not leaving any time soon. "
Andy nodded sighing in relief. " Yes... "
The warrior's eyes inspected the damage which was slowly healing.
She then turned to inspect Booker as well.
He seemed in a slightly better condition than you, but still too weak to walk or move around.
Too weak to join her in her hunt.
Andy's eyes fell down on you again. Your chest was coming up and down rapidly.
" Darling, I have to go. You, Booker and Nile stay here and wait for my signal. " She said.
You nodded your head before slipping your hand down, on her neck.
Andy, who was your wife for more than a couple of centuries, understood immediately what you wanted.
The love of your life, bent her head down and pressed her lips on yours.
You kissed her back, smiling in the kiss.
Andromache mimicked your expression and licked your bottom lip.
You opened your mouth to let her tongue explore it but Andromache pulled apart locking eye contact with you.
" We will continue this later, now, stay like this until you are completely healed. " She told you and stood up.
You whined in complain but didn't comment on this.
The idea of Andy going out there to avenge you being too appealing to be ignored.
Andromache entered her killing mode as she left the room leaving you alone with Nile and Booker.
Both of them had witnessed your heated make out session.
Nile watched as the woman who brought her there was walking out of their little refuge.
" Wow... that was hot. "
#charlize theron#charlizeafrica#andy the scythian#andy the scythian x reader#the old guard#andy#andromache x reader
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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
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Our Last Hundred Years
Pairing: Andy x reader
Wc: 2377
Angst, fluff ps sorry Nile
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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
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Masterlist
• Poetry
• Wednesday Addams x GN Reader
• Jenna Ortega x GN Reader
• Charlize Theron x Reader
• Cate Blanchett x Reader
#wednesday addams#wednesday addams x reader#wednesday addams x you#wednesday x reader#jenna ortega#jenna ortega x reader#jenna ortega x you#jenna ortega x y/n#charlize theron x reader#lady lesso x reader#charlotte field x reader#andromache x reader#elaine markinson x reader#lorraine broughton x reader#cipher x reader#cate blancett x you#cate blanchett x reader#lou miller x you#lou miller x reader#carol aird x reader#carol aird x you
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