#the old guard x reader

[romancingromanoff]

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

[coffeebookslovegt]

Me has recordado que hay gente... por la que todavía vale la pena luchar.

#the old guard #the old guard cast #the old guard au #the old guard netflix #the old guard x reader #the old guard rp #andrómaca #the old guard andy #netflix movie #netflix original #netflix #netflixedit #movies #films #fantasy #love #inmortal #inmortaelis #family movies #favorite movies #i love this movie #i love this movie so much

[sprout-fics]

First Day of the Rest of Your Life

(TF141 & Reader Old Guard AU)

Call of Duty Masterlist

Rating: 16+ Wordcount: 4k Tags: Old Guard AU, Immortals AU, Newly Immortal Reader, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Open Ending, Rescue Missions, Shadow Company, Major Character Death (non permanent) Warnings: Forced Drugging, Character Death (and revival) A/N: A silly little idea that I won't be continuing, but others are free to build off of

They’re not known by anyone but themselves.

Things like them shouldn’t exist. It goes against all laws of nature, to rise from dirt and to return. Yet somehow, the men you come to meet defy death itself, unable to be killed, to die a death that lasts long and forever.

And…

You come to realize you’re just like them.

But first, you have to die.

A “Shadow”, you’re called. One of many, under the authority of Commander Phillip Graves and his company. It’s a reluctant job, one that you took with little other option to settle old debts and to escape from a life that haunts you even now. Even so, you share a camaraderie with the men and women around you, bonds forged under mortar fire and bullet wounds.

Graves himself takes you under his wing, reluctant as you are, makes a point to check on you after missions, to tease you when he can, needling you and trying to make you roll your eyes at him. He likes getting under your skin, cracking jokes so your mouth twitches up as you suppress a smile. It’s hard not to like him with his charisma, but you can’t even shake the little bit of guardedness that remains ever present when you’re around him. You’re not friends, but you certainly aren’t enemies either. Comrades, perhaps.

That changes when you die.

You’re supporting SAS forces in their hunt for a known AQ leader, in a remote village, when your squad is ambushed. The desert sun bores down harshly on you all, and you find yourself squinting upwards when the first shot echoes out.

Graves is not far behind you as bullets begin to rain down on your position, leaning into his comms and barking orders. His eyes are focused with trained intent, finger on the trigger of his weapon, and when you catch his eyes he shoots you a wild grin.

You spot something out of the corner of your eye as you return fire- a woman and a child, hidden behind a low wall as she tries to cover him from the firefight. Her eyes are different. Scared, full of tears, her shoulders tight as he holds back her cries.

You shout for cover, instantly on your feet moving and diving for the pair. You shield her as you aid them both to safety, only for one of your squad to shout for you a moment too late.

The bullet goes straight through your heart.

You fall forward into the arid earth, watching the woman and her son be quickly escorted to shelter. The pang of relief you feel is stifled by the agony that laces through your veins, wet and viscous and much too warm. As you gasp, dying and bleeding out, the last thing you see is Graves’ face hovering over yours, steely and grim as your life gushes out onto his hands.

“Breathe, darlin’, breathe.”

You can’t. With every pulse of your heart you feel the sickening ooze of red spill from the gap in your chest. You wheeze, try to speak, but it’s too late. You hear him call for you as you go under, and your last thought is that you wish just had more time.

There’s a flash of something then- brief and vague, like the shimmering outline on the horizon. Four figures standing tall, turning to gaze at you before it all goes dark.

You wake up in the infirmary an hour or so later. Staring up at the medical tent and trying to process the fact that you’re alive.

Remarkably, you feel…fine? 

A hand smooths over your chest, and you find no bullet hole at all. No gaping wound where your life force bled out of you. Perfectly healed. 

It doesn’t make any sense, and you try to reconcile the sudden, agonizing pain and darkness with your unscathed state. You died. There’s no way you should be alive right now, much less without a horrible, life altering injury.

Graves pushes aside the tent flap and paces to your bedside with long strides. You expect him to look relieved, to smile and offer a joke to cover his concern. Instead, he appears guarded, cautious, like he no longer trusts you.

You flinch.

Graves watches you with wary eyes, and when you ask him if perhaps you dreamt it he doesn’t show any indication of shock. Instead, he crowds closer, gets in your personal space, and asks you what you remember. You tell him. You died…and then…and then…

Nothing.

This doesn’t satisfy him, and you can tell by the harsh light in his eyes. He smiles anyways, but you feel something curl in your stomach at the fact that it feels so sinister. Graves pats your shoulder and tells you to rest up, offers a little murmur of relief that doesn’t reach your ears.

You’re too busy looking at his eyes.

On his way out of the infirmary, Graves whispers something to the medic, who pales and tries to protest. Yet then Graves goes icy cold, and you feel a shiver run up your spine. He vanishes after that, and after a moment the medic appears with a syringe. 

“This should help with the pain.” He offers with a wobbly smile. 

“But…I’m not in pain.” You offer, brow knotted in confusion, but before you can offer anything else he holds out your arm and presses the needle to the inside of your elbow with practiced ease.

“W-wait-”

You look at the medic in confusion as he pulls back, and somehow when he presses on your shoulder you go flat on the bed with sluggish limbs. 

“What-” You try, feeling something dark and liquid descend over your senses slowly. 

“I’m sorry.” He offers, face pinched. “Please don’t die.”

You grab at him then, recognizing the injection too late for what it is, a lethal dose. You try to raise your voice, try to beg, but the soldier above you hushes you, murmurs apologies even as the newly familiar grip of death settles over you. 

…And then, you wake up again

This time, however, you’re restrained. Your arms are above your head, shackled to the metal bars of the infirmary cot. There’s a dull ache that colors your senses, and when you try to raise your hand to rub at your head you find it immobile. Panic instantly rises within you, doubled by your prone position. 

As you panic and struggle Graves appears and hovers over your bedside

“Feel like talkin now, soldier?” He asks, gaze cold.

He had you killed, you realize. He sent the medic to drug you, to test this newfound ability of yours to come back after apparent death. Now, he has you trapped under his mercy, eyes dark as he scrutinizes your restrained form.

You try to tell him you don’t know, you don’t understand, but you know he doesn’t believe you. Even after your babbling protests and attempts to explain, he remains unmoved.

At last, he sighs in frustration and turns away to the medic once more.

“Put em’ under.”

Terror grips at you. You scream, thrash, a primal fear screeching through your veins as you’re approached by the grim faced medic.

Then, the medical tent shakes with the force of a nearby explosion. Graves spins, eyes wide. Instantly, the base alarm begins to roar, nearly deafening the instant chatter of his radio. Graves is moving, barking order, growling at the two shadows who stand nearby.

“Prep for transport. We’re takin’ em to the general.”

Shepherd.

They’re moving you. They’re going to give you to Shepherd because of…whatever this is. Your instincts scream danger, and it only renews your effort to escape, thrashing at your restraints and screaming with all your might.

The two shadows press down on your struggling limbs- a hand snaking up to cover your mouth. You plead with teary eyes, desperately afraid, whimpering as the medic pushes the needle down into your arm once more. The overly warm rush of morphine slinks through your veins, draws your eyelids heavy against your will.

It’s at that moment that you see them.

Four armed figures sweep into the tent, and as the two soldiers spin and reach for their weapons. They're taken out before they can even shout for aid, two  of the men instantly subduing the two guards, choking them into unconsciousness with heavy, muscular arms. A third points a weapon at the medic, growling as the man cowers.

A face hovers into view- Brown eyes a deeper color than his skin, warm gaze concerned even as he smiles. He’s handsome, a delirious part of your brain realizes as unconsciousness begins to descend over you.

“Nice to meet you, mate.” He tells you as you begin to fade. “Name’s Gaz. Don’t worry, we’ll be here when you wake up. We got it from here.”

You try to ask him what he means, but you’re gone before the words can pass your lips.

- - -

“I’m getting kind of tired of this.” You think as soon as you wake up for the third time in twelve or so hours, flat on your back and looking at the ceiling of a plane.

There’s a jacket covering you, and as you sit up your groan, feeling the remnants of morphine clear from the uncomfortable haze of your brain.

“Easy.” A gruff voice tells you, and your eyes dart up to take in the sight of a man sitting on a bench beside you, the airplane rattling around you both. “You’ve had a rough go of it, take it slow.”

“Who…?” You manage to ask, pressing a heel of your palm to the center of your eye to dispel the lingering headache, looking around to take in the other three men who sit in various stages of alertness. You take them in one by one, starting with the man beside you with the beard and the hat. He looks older than you suspect he is- the age showing in his eyes. 

Beside him sits a man in a mask, the hard plastic of it in the shape of a skull. He blinks at you slow like a cat, and with his arms crossed he seems to take up so much space on the tiny aircraft.

Across from him sits a younger man with a mohawk, blue eyed and bright. He smiles at you, gaze twinkling as you blink in confusion.

Your eyes land on a familiar face. “...Gaz.” You offer uncertainly, and he beams at you. 

“Right’o.” He tells you, and then nods to the man beside him. “And Soap-” The man in the mohawk gives a grin and a wave. “Ghost-” The man is the skull mask, arms crossed, regarding you coolly. “And Price.” The man who sits beside you, elbows on his knees, blue eyes staring keenly down at you. 

You reply with your name purely out of politeness, but are unable to stop the tensing of your limbs as you slowly and cautiously press away from the four men who have kidnapped you.

The questions pour out of you before you can stop them. Who are they? Where are you? Where’s Shadow Company? Where are they taking you? How did you get here?

…Do they know you died?

The men before you exchange some looks of concern, before at last it’s Price who moves and settles on his haunches before you with a reassuring smile. He sits just out of reach, trying to respect your personal space as much as he can in the tiny plane.

“You’re safe.” Is the first thing he tells you, voice firm but soft. “We’ll make sure your commander can’t find you, so don’t you worry about that.”

“The rest will have to wait.” He goes on, offering you a hand to stand and helping you to a seat beside Gaz. “We’ll wait until we’re at our safehouse to tell you the rest.”

You swallow nervously, hands bunched in the jacket draped over your lap. Your mind desperately tries to understand what has happened, how you could have ended up here.

“He…killed me.” You manage shakily, remembering Graves standing over you as you woke up from the lethal rush of morphine. “Graves.”

Price looks grim as he nods silently.

“But…” You trail off, confused, scared, trembling. You look at him, wrapping your arms around yourself for comfort. “I’m…alive?”

“That you are.” Price replies with grave seriousness. “And you’re not dying anytime soon.”

You find out later that ‘soon’ doesn’t begin to describe what your life will become.

You have no option but to trust these men, you realize. You think about running, but you have no idea where you are, where they’ve taken you. As you’re gently escorted off the plane on an abandoned runway somewhere in the desert, you think about climbing back aboard and forcing the pilot to take you home.

There’s nothing back there for you, you realize. Not with your outstanding debts and mistakes, not when Graves will be able to track you down.

You curl into a corner of the safehouse- skittish and forlorn as you lose yourself in your thoughts. The others busy themselves disposing of their gear, talking in low voices, and you ignore the sympathetic looks they offer you. 

Gaz settles in front of you, pushes a steaming mug of something warm into your hands, and you manage a grateful glance.

“Where are we?” You ask him quietly, and he gives you a worried little smile. 

“A few hours outside Cairo. A safehouse. An old one.”

You hear Soap sneeze in another room, complaining about spiderwebs. It summons a weary smile to your features.

“Will you tell me what’s going on?” You ask quietly, and Gaz stands, offers you a hand so you rise with him.

“Of course.” He tells you, and places a hand on your shoulder to guide you in the direction of the brightly lit kitchen. “But first? Dinner. Can’t have you starve to death.”

“Will that actually kill me?” You think, but offer no other reply

Dinner is a mix of MREs and canned fruit from one of the cabinets. You watch as Ghost passes his pineapple pieces over to Soap, who swallows them down happily. Price leans over to murmur something to him, and Soap huffs a little sound of amusement around his fork. You observe them, realizing that there’s a warm familiarity between all of them, a trust that runs inherently deep and profound. It summons a little pang of longing inside you, wishing that maybe you might find something similar one day

You pick at your dinner, not really hungry. The food sits uneasily in your stomach with your anxiety, and as the plates lay scattered across the table the others finally turn to you.

“You died.” Price begins, startlingly direct.

“Yes.” You tell him breathily in return. He nods, pauses before his next words.

“So did all of us.”

You blink at that, trying to process- before Soap finally chimes in.

“Aye, your commander shot me straight in the neck, the bastard.” He grins sunnily. “Shoulda seen his face when I got right back up, fit as a fiddle.”

You do smile at that, imagining Grave’s utter shock at a dead man walking. It fades as you fidget with the cooling mug in your hands.

“So…what?” You ask quietly. “I’m some kind of…immortal?”

The silence that follows is deafening.

You look up, meet the blank stares of the men before you, and feel your stomach turn to ice.

“You’re kidding.”

Price shakes his head slowly, and you watch as he reaches for a cigar in his jacket. 

“Those’ll kill you.” You want to tell him, but you wonder if it truly is a moot point.

“We were all like you, once.” He sighs as smoke spills from his mouth. “Soldiers, young, trying to do some good in a war we didn’t ask for.”

They tell you their stories, and you sit transfixed as the tale of their lives unravel before you. 

Gaz and Soap are the ‘youngest’ they claim, both in age and in the time they first died. World War 2, they tell you. Gaz was a pilot shot down in France, and Soap was an infantryman only a few hundred miles west. 

“Price found me.” Gaz tells you, smiling fondly at the older man, who returns the expression.

Price tells you of the vision he had- of Kyle terrified, tugging at his straps as his plane burned and spiraled out of control, only to wake up completely unscathed in a pasture. Of course, he’d been killed twice over by German forces before Price managed to find him. Gaz had been the same as you- flighty, scared, uncertain. Price had hauled him to an abandoned farmhouse, had explained to him the same they explain to you now- that one day you just stop dying. You don’t age. You can’t be killed. You blackout, bleed out, and then you just wake back up. 

“Soap had it less easy.” He nods to the Scot, who grimaces. Ghost tilts his head in Soap’s direction.

“You want me to tell em, Johnny?”

Soap grumbles, and explains the story of waking up downriver, having drowned, with his entire squad dead after a charge across the Rhine. He tried to find his way back under the cover of night and found a man in a mask instead. He thought he was the reaper coming to collect his soul, but when Ghost started trying to explain immortality and becoming ageless, Soap had stared at him in complete disbelief- and then ran.

“You pitched a fit when I finally caught you.” Ghost remarks smugly, and Johnny’s frown deepens.

“Couldnae help it.” He grouses. “You did a shite job of explaining. Plus-” He jabs a finger in his friend’s direction. “You shot me.”

You blink at that, looking at Ghost, who shrugs, completely unrepentant.

“You tried to escape.”

“But still-!”

“And they’ve been trying to kill each other ever since.” Gaz adds cheekily as the two bicker.

“No killing each other.” Price reminds them sternly, and it quiets down the squabbling. 

“Wait-” You try, looking to Soap and Gaz. “So you’re…what, like 100 years old?”

“Give or take a few years.” Soap offers. “I’m the older one.”

Gaz snorts. “You are not.”

“I got found first.”

“I was literally born before you.”

“By eight months.”

“Still counts.”

You turn to Ghost. “So then how old are you?”

“I stopped counting.” He replies plainly. “16th century.”

Your jaw drops. Ghost looks smug at your expression as you try to run the numbers.

“You’re leaving out the part where you were in the Anglo-Scottish War, Simon.” Soap bemoans, displeased. It sours Ghost’s expressions as he turns to the Scot.

“I didn’t even know you yet.” He remarks, mildly annoyed, and it does little to ease Soap’s vague irritation. 

“So then Price found you too.” You comment, and Ghost turns back to you.

“After years of chasing him.” Price interjects. “There’s a reason we call him ‘Ghost’.”

You learn later about the things Ghost doesn’t tell you- about being buried alive by his enemies, of suffocating and dying over and over as he clawed through the dirt on his way to freedom. An inevitable, stifling death where he didn’t understand how he kept coming back, only to suffocate once more.

All eyes then turn to Price, who regards you with a knowing smile.

“Old.” He responds to your wordless question. “Too old.”

You want to press him, but there’s a twinkle in his eyes that makes you bite your tongue.

“So…do you…we…” You correct slowly. “...get sick? Starve? Drown?”

“Can’t say I’ve ever been sick.” Ghost provides. “Been starved and drowned, though.”

“Starving is a fool’s death.” Price says, oddly grim. His cigar burns down to ash, and he sighs. 

There’s a solemn silence that settles over the safehouse then, and you feel the heavy weight of unspoken words sink between you all. 

“There’s rules for us.” Price states then, once more reigning in his air of authority that draws you all a little straighter, attentive. 

He goes on to tell you the rules that these men live and die by.

Don’t be seen. Don’t stay in one place for more than a few years at a time. If you die, move on. Stay together. Always communicate. Never leave a man behind.

They’ve spent decades, centuries trying to find ways to use their time to the best of their ability- and the only thing they’ve come to is to stay as soldiers, trying their best to scrub the scum off the face of the earth so the world stays clean. Illegal drug trade, weapons smuggling, extremism, genocide, doing whatever they can to help the innocent and the blameless from violence, and dying to do so. 

What else is there to do with all the time? They tell you. Money, luxury, empires, it doesn’t matter when you live forever. So instead they fight, do what they can to save humanity from itself. It’s not an easy job, but it must be done. 

They’ve seen things that haunt the shadows of their eyes, witness to the worst villainy and grotesqueness humanity has to offer. They’ve all had to take years off when the burden of the world became too heavy for their souls. 

You don’t learn of the time when one of them, and they’ll never say who, tried to give up entirely, had become lost as he desperately tried to rid himself of his immortality. They don’t speak of the decade it took to bring him back, to mend his soul back to fullness once more. It’s a gift, they’ll tell you, but you too will come to learn it’s a curse.

The silence is broken by Soap.

“Can be fun, sometimes.” He offers. “Kyle and I have a runnin’ bet over who dies first in whatever year we’re in.”

“No killing each other.” Price reiterates, scowling at Soap and Gaz, who look guilty. “Not even for fun.”

You make a note to ask about that story later.

“And most of all…” Price goes on, voice grave. “Don’t get captured.”

You remember the infirmary, the cuffs, Graves standing over you with his cold, calculating gaze as fear mounted higher inside you.

You shudder, and Soap lays a warm hand on your shoulder in reassurance.

“They won’t find you.” Ghost provides, and his voice is softer, eyes kinder. “You’re with us now.”

“Simon is right.” Gaz adds seriously. “We’ve been doing this for decades. Your commander has nothing on us.”

You offer him a grateful smile, and remember his warm eyes in the moment you first met him.

“We’ll be here when you wake up.”

These men saved you from a fate that was out of your control. They rescued you, kept you safe, and refused to leave you behind. They brought you to safety, comforted you, and even now they take care of you from your own fear of the future.

“You’re one of us.” Price offers quietly, strangely tender. His hand settles on yours, squeezes it hard for just a moment. “We don’t leave behind one of our own.”

You smile at him through the tears, more grateful than you can express. You’re still scared, and in the years to come you’ll still have nightmares of the man who killed you twice over, who had once been your ally. His betrayal sits in your heart as distant terror, and when it becomes too much your new family holds you, comforts you once more.

You’ll grow with them, fight with them. You’ll hold them as they breathe their last, cry with them over the things you couldn’t accomplish in your never ending fight against the worst of humanity. You’ll lament the agelessness between you all, but will help each other to stand once more. You’ll stand beside them for the centuries to come, and you’ll die alongside them.

And then you’ll wake up.

#cod x reader #cod x you #cod x gn!reader #cod x y/n #141 x reader #oneshots #old guard au

[maria-and-aguilars-codex-1492]

The Old Guard AU where the poly!141 are a group of immortals who seemingly cannot die so they travel around for centuries fighting battles, wars, and injustice.

John Price, the eldest of them all, the first known immortal. He cannot entirely remember how old he is or anything of his mortal life. There are memories that he carries of fighting against the Romans in what he believes is present day England. Eventually though everything began to bleed together and he almost gave up hope entirely until one fateful event.

The Battle of Culloden. It is where he meets Simon Riley and Johnny MacTavish.

Simon is a lieutenant for the King, a British red coat, different from the rest if only by the black bandana with the white paint of a skull covering his face. A man who Price encounters before his death. Something about him pulling the immortal to find him upon the battlefield. That is, of course by fate, where Price first meets Johnny MacTavish as well. A proud Scott fighting for independence. Face marked by warpaint, dirt, and blood as he kills Simon with a battle cry upon his lips. And in a moment that Price cannot comprehend being reality in its entirety or flashes of the new immortals being bound to him he witnesses this: Johnny kills Simon. Simon rises and kills Johnny. Over and over the two fight, killing each other and healing, until finally they pause. As if realizing that neither is truly dying they hold each other, both looking up to Price just standing over them. A calm silhouette against the backdrop of brutal battle.

Something telling them that he knows.

Of course, none of them understand that they are bound together until later that night when they dream of the other. Price. Simon. Johnny. Living and dying. Plagued by their personal inflictions and differences. Causing Price to have to hunt the two down. Explaining that they have to all be together. They have a job to do. A greater purpose that goes beyond Johnny not wanting to work with Brits and Simon not wanting to work with anyone. (Not that John would ever admit that in truth...he just didn't want to be alone anymore.)

And by the time they dream of a fourth, the consequences of Culloden is gone from them against the sounds of a world at war.

World War II is where they find Kyle "Gaz" Garrick. Dying from a gunshot wound after freeing a camp of POWs from the Germans. Price, Simon, and Johnny race across no mans land and trenches. Across borderlines and battlegrounds to find him. It takes nearly ten days across foot before they come across Gaz collapsed upon his knees drenched in blood. Surrounded by dead German soldiers. A sob shaking him as Price settles a hand across his shoulder. The three immortals explaining that everything would be alright. That Gaz wasn't alone anymore. He'd never be alone again.

And when that war ended well the wars never end. However, the 141 as Price names them certainly didn't expect to gain another member, but one night upon a cargo train within the middle of the desert, they suddenly gain you.

Your death awakens them from sleep far worse than if the train itself had crashed.

Price watches you die, sees the wound that kills you, the pain and fear flashing across your eyes. Johnny catches a glimpse of your name tag and the features of your face; his hands hazardously sketching you upon a notepad he had stuffed away. Gaz quickly tries describing your environment and clothing. Simon looks upon them all with darkened eyes, his hand grasping his throat, as he announces that he felt you die. A statement that has Price standing as he suddenly realizes where you must be and what had led you to your death.

No more words were needed for them to all agree to find you no matter what.

#asks and request are open #i have a whole au set in my mind palace for this #task force 141 #poly 141 #john price x reader #johnny soap mctavish x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #kyle gaz garrick x reader #john x simon x johnny x gaz x reader #old guard au #cod mwii #reader insert

[lionlena]

☆MASTERLIST☆

Pedro Pascal

One Shot:

♡A kitchen disaster

♡Just let it go…

♡New job, new problems...

♡Just breathe

Series:

♡His Curls - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3 (completed)

♡Hate run, love speed - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 (in progress)

♡We don’t love each other - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7 - Final (completed)

Request:

♡A perfect day for a perfect girl (It's your birthday and Pedro makes you feel loved and special all day)

Headcanon:

♡What sleeping position do they most like when you are with them? (Pedro Pascal characters)💤

♡How will they react to your makeup? (Pedro Pascal and his characters) 👁️👄💅

♡Headcanon: How do they behave when you have a migraine? (Pedro Pascal characters)🩹😴   (+ Dave and Marcus)

♡Headcanon: How will they react if you tell them about CDD? (Pedro Pascal characters) 👰💔😱🤕  

♡Headcanon: Who will be ready to kill for you? From most willing to least... (Pedro Pascal characters) 🔪💀☠️🩸

♡Headcanon: How do they cook for you? (Pedro Pascal characters) 🥕🧑‍🍳🍓

Joel Miller

One Shot:

♡This is just a nightmare… (The Last of Us ff/ Joel/Ellie)

♡Strong for both of us

♡Trouble with ex

♡Dyeing your hair…

Series:

♡Unforgivable mistake, Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7 Part 8, Part 9, Part 10, Part 11, Part 12 (in progress)

♡I can't be everywhere (No outbreak!) Part 1 , Part 2, Part 3, Part 4... (in progress)

Request:

♡You need a better place (Joel loving a girl with epilepsy)

♡Blue dress (Joel Miller x plus size!reader)

Headcanon:

♡When Joel goes limp… (JoelMillerxf!reader)🤷🍆🩹

Javier Peña

One Shot:

♡I’ll protect you… (bc you’re mine)

♡I’ll hurt you… ( bc you’re mine )

♡I’ll leave you (bc youre not mine)

♡I'll stay with you... ( bc I love you)

♡You’re hot…

♡A girl from the street

Series:

♡Dancing With Your Ghost - Part I, Part II, Part III, Part IV, Part V, Part VI, Part VII, Part VIII, Part IX, Part X, Part XI, Part XII, Epilogue (completed)

♡Too many shadows behind you - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3,  Part 4, Part 5 (in progress)

Headcanon:

♡Nicotine (JavierPeña and You)

Agent Whiskey (Jack Daniels)

Series:

♡Dynasty - Part 1, Part 2, (in progress)

One Shot:

♡Mean (JackDanielsxf!reader)

Javi Gutierrez

One Shot:

♡Too hot

Frankie Morales

One Shot:

♡Lost cat

Marcus Pike

One Shot: 

♡"7.44 am"

Oberyn Martell

Series:

♡Red Viper and Fox - Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4 (in progress, soon english version)

One Shot:

♡♕Queen's Milk

♡I Hold You

♡Remember me… (ANGST!)

The Old Guard (movie)

One Shot: 

♡ Amira

♡ It hurts like hell    

#masterlist #my fanfiction #my wriring #pedro pascal #pedro pascal fanfiction #pedro pascal x reader #javier pena x reader #joel miller #narcos #the last of us #the game of thrones #oberyn martell #the old guard #Immortal husbands #joe and nicky #joel and ellie #joel miller x reader #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller and you #tlou fic #pedro pascal headcanon #pedro pascal characters #agent peña #agent whiskey #agent whiskey fanfiction #jack daniels fanfiction #jack daniels x reader #kingsman the golden circle #javi gutierrez #javi g x reader

[whalyrae]

THE OLD GUARD - CHAPTER 4

"We don’t get a say on how it ends, we never have. But we can control how we live."

Summary : You are a powerful witch, cursed and hurt through ages. Owner of your esoteric shop, you were resigned to live this lonely life when the powerful magic of soulmates and fate came to you.

Pairing : poly BTS x reader (she/her)

Genre : soulmate au, demons bts au, witch y/n au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, polyamory relationships

Status : In process

Word Count : 5k

Warnings : eventual smut, angst, mention of depression, death, suicide, past trauma, violence, blood, past (sexual) abuse, past torture, PTSD, scars, self harm, and more.

Tag list : @blackrockshooter780 @babyymeme @starrlo0ver @suckerforv @mushroom-main @m1sss1mp @prettydancingdamzel @i-have-no-life-charlie @avadakadabra93 @veronawrites @kawaiikpoplover268 @didi-9310 @ghostlyworld @carolinexkpop @gooooomz @00ihatesnaku

A/N : After months of struggling with life, health, mental health issues... I can FINALLY POST AGAIN !! This chapter was really hard to write (I cried a little at the end ngl :D), I have constant writer block, constant impostor syndrome... I have the perfectionnism trait but in a toxic way really TT.TT Don't hesitate to like and reblog !! Also don't be afraid to leave a little comment or if you have any questions, here or in anon in my inbox !! they are really really welcomed, I love reading all your impressions and thoughts !!

Also thank you so much !! I was inactive for a very long time and I still got daily alerts with people who liked/kudos the chapters and the story :(( I can't express (yeah i'm an author and i can't express through words LOL) how much i'm grateful :(( ♥♥

ps : ah and sorry if there is any mistakes or anything it's almost 2:30am when I post this and I had an really emotionnal day fgkfdhlfk LOVE YALL MUAH ♥

Playlist link : The Old Guard Playlist

Masterlist | ao3 | wattpad

Chapter 3 // Chapter 5

☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ 

She was wondering whether it would be better to ask Handong to stay with her. She had assured her that she would handle the situation and that Handong could go home. She knew that Gahyeon would need her at their coffee shop. 

However, now that she was in the living room of the seven boys, her soulmates’, after bringing one of them in an utterly unconscious state for a reason as unknown to them as it was to her, she was starting to regret this decision.

She couldn't understand what had happened with Jin the moment their eyes met. She couldn't say anything, the words were stuck in her throat as they stared at each other without a word. He parted his lips as if he wanted to say something, but just like her, nothing came out. 

He'd known she was his soul mate, of course he could feel it. Just like her. But had he recognized her? Did he know that the two of them were the firsts of their soulmate bond to meet, long before any of the other six were born? She couldn't be sure and didn't have time to find out. 

She had seen his features contort in pain, and without a word, he had collapsed. Luckily, Handong, who had seen them, was able to catch him in time, preventing him from falling to the ground and potentially injuring himself. 

Thanks to a spell that increased her strength tenfold, she could carry him without Handong’s help and any difficulty to the place where he lived with his mates. But she couldn't stop herself from hurrying, worried sick about him.

And that's where she is now. Jungkook helped her carry Jin to the living room, laying him on the sofa. While Yoongi woke up Taehyung and Namjoon. Jimin and Hoseok hurried to get a damp cloth on Jin's forehead. 

Namjoon and Taehyung stormed into the room, not hiding their surprise at seeing her there in total panic. 

However, they didn't ask any questions. Yoongi probably had to explain to them what happened and what was going on. 

She was standing in front of the sofa where Jin was lying, staring at the unconscious demon, his features distorted by pain. The sight of him was enough to make her stomach twist with soreness. 

"Hey, Noona..." Jimin's soft voice startled her. He was standing next to her, a comforting smile on his lips, "Everything’s going to be fine, don't worry..."

She didn't even know what to say. She didn't dare to look him in the eye, or any of the other boys. The guilt she'd been carrying around with her all these centuries was only getting stronger. 

She could hear voices behind her, probably the boys talking amongst themselves, or maybe they were trying to talk to her. She didn't know. Nothing around her was clear and precise. Her vision was blurring, her heart rate had been racing for a while and she was getting worse. 

She gasped when she felt a hand on her shoulder. She turned round abruptly, facing Namjoon. The other boys were behind him, except for Yoongi who was next to Jin. 

"Hey," he greeted her with a gentle smile, "don't worry, everything's going to be fine,” he repeated Jimin’s words, “You're having a panic attack, I'm gonna help you, okay? Look at me."

His voice was soft and reassuring, it had a calming effect on her. His presence and warmth invaded her whole being, despite the anxiety attack she was having. 

She raised her eyes to meet him. Slowly, he tells her to take long, deep breaths. The first time, she breathed in and breathed out. Then a second time. And a third. 

Finally, her breathing returned to normal and her heart rate calmed. Seeing this, Namjoon gave her another smile, his fingers caressing her shoulder to calm her down. 

She had the strange impression that Namjoon probably possessed some kind of power capable of influencing the emotions, feelings, or even bodily reactions of the people he touched. Or maybe it was just the soulmate effect. 

"Feeling better?" 

"Yes... Thank you..." She replied with a small smile, seeing Hoseok approach her with a glass of water. "Thanks… and sorry, I wish we'd met under different circumstances..."

"Don't worry sweetheart, I'm enchanted to meet you." 

Hoseok gave her a big, bright smile, which he succeeded in communicating to her. 

"I guess you guys have questions... and why did I show up with Jin in this state..."

She turned her attention to Jin. A wave of emotion suddenly washed over her as she realized that yes, he was there, in the same room as her. Her soul mate, the first to cross her way, the one she'd lost so suddenly and brutally centuries ago. A mixture of joy, sadness, guilt, and apprehension. 

"Do you know what's going on with him? And why is he in this condition?" Hoseok asked curiously, taking back the glass she'd just drunk in one long sip.

She bit her lower lip nervously. She had to tell them. Jin was their soulmate, just like he was hers.

But where to start?

"Come on, settle down here."

Yoongi straightened up to install her on the sofa, right next to Jin still unconscious. He'd then sat down next to her, while the others had taken seats in front of her, Namjoon and Hoseok on the low table, the maknae on the floor, clinging to each other.

The sight made her smile gently. But quickly the smile disappeared, replaced by apprehension. The words just wouldn't come out of her mouth. She knew that the moment had come, that once she'd told them everything, they'd hate her, reject her, and she’d lose the people she'd waited for all her life. 

"Noona... I can smell your fear all the way up here..." murmured Jimin, her eyes landing on him with surprise, "I'm an empath, by the way..." he explained with a shrug. 

"You don't have to be an empath to sense the fear radiating from her." chuckled Taehyung, teasing his companion who gave him a nudge on the shoulder, "Oops, sorry sweetie." 

"I know that from the moment you will know the whole story, you'll never want to hear from me again and I... argh that's the last thing I want," she admitted with a sad smile. The events of the last few days had paralyzed and overwhelmed her in some ways when it came to making the right decisions, and she was extremely upset with herself about this.  

"But I think I need to stop being scared, and selfish like I have been."

"We could never hate you," Hoseok said firmly, the others all giving signs of approval, "no matter what you've done." 

"Tell us all the horrible things you ever did, and let us love you anyway."

She recognized Namjoon's words. And she wasn’t surprised that he could quote Edgard Allan Poe, considering the circumstances of their first meeting. 

She couldn't deny that his words made her feel a tinge of comfort, because he was sincere, and every one of the other boys thought so. 

But they didn't know the whole story yet, so the chances of them thinking differently once they knew the whole truth were pretty high. 

"Where to start..." she took a long breath, "Jin... I met him before I even knew I was immortal. That was... uh... it seems like an eternity now, at the beginning of the 15th century."

She expected the exclamations of surprise that followed. 

"Wait... you mean you and Jin hyung..." Jungkook fell silent to think. 

"Why didn't he ever tell us about you then? And why have we never met you before ?” asked Yoongi skeptically, "You're our soulmate, his soulmate, how could he..."

"It's more complicated than it sounds..." she sighed, scratching the back of her head nervously. "I always knew I was a witch, my mother was a witch herself. I lived in a village in France during the period when the witch hunts began. It was also during this period that the Malleus Maleficarum was written." 

"I know this book," Hoseok sighed loudly as he shook his head, visibly annoyed, "this pile of garbage written in the late 15th century, which supposedly explains what a witch is, how to recognize one, interrogate them, and kill them."

"A load of bullshit yeah," Namjoon added with a chuckle, "I rarely waste my time reading books, but this one..."

"Tell me more !" Jimin exclaimed, "I read it too, well, not all of it, it's so... misogynistic and sexist!" 

"I... was one of the witches who had to go through all the torture and experimentation to write this... book or whatever it is. And most of the women who suffered all that crap were just ordinary mortals," she admitted with a little restraint. 

Horrified exclamations were heard from the maknaes and Hoseok. Yoongi and Namjoon closed their eyes for a few seconds, repressing the anger rising within them. 

Talking about these events did not leave her indifferent; these memories were among the worst she had ever known, and she still sometimes had nightmares about them. 

She remained silent for a few moments, before finally speaking up.

"That's not the point. Jin is the point. When I met him, he was a merchant passing through the village." A small smile appeared mechanically as she recalled this memory, "It was love at first sight. Of course, it was. He knew I was his soul mate, but I... I didn't even know what a soulmate was. He taught me. He taught me so many things..."

She turned her head towards Jin, still unconscious beside her. Oh, how she'd missed him. He hadn't changed a bit. 

"I immediately sensed that he wasn't human, just as he'd guessed that I was a witch. So much better in a way, it made things easier."

Delicately, she let her fingers stroke his forehead, brushing aside a few strands of hair, a tender smile on her face.

"He stayed in the village after that. I had taken over the bakery from my parents who had passed away from an illness a few months before I met him. We weren't the richest, but we were happy.”

The other boys couldn't contain the grins on their faces. Of course, this story was beautiful and worthy of a fairy tale. But they all knew that fairy tales were only fantasy stories. The reality was not nearly as lovely. 

"We lived... two years like that before everything went to hell."

She felt her hands tremble as she recalled what she was about to say.

Jimin sensed her nervousness, fear, and sadness. He left Taehyung and Jungkook's embrace to kneel before her, gently taking her hands in his for comfort.

Her gaze met his, and he offered her a gentle, reassuring smile. But she couldn't relax.

"The witch-hunt had begun and was becoming increasingly virulent and violent. The villagers had always thought it was strange that I hadn't suffered the same illness as my parents. I knew the rumors about Jin and I. But until now, we'd managed to keep a discreet, almost unnoticed presence. Until she came along."

Jimin squeezed her hands a little tighter as he felt her anger rising. 

"That demoness... came to our village, supposedly a cloth merchant. She fell for Jin. Was it love, or just a physical attraction? I don’t know. She succumbed to his devastating charm, like so many others before her." She chuckled, imitated by Yoongi. 

"As you would expect, Jin did nothing but ignore her and rebuff her advances. She didn't appreciate it at all… I learned later that this half-succubus demoness was renowned for finding prey and not letting go until she got what she wanted."

"A real nasty leech..." muttered Jungkook.

She noticed, however, that Namjoon, Yoongi, and Hoseok expressions had changed. They had exchanged glances, seeming to pass a message to each other that she didn't understand. She decided to ignore it for the moment.

"Things got worse after she arrived, after Jin's rejection." She took a long breath. "She's the one who delivered me to the villagers, who exposed me. When we realized her plan, that she was planning to take Jin with her by force, by any means necessary, we wanted to run away. We'd go to Asia, or America, or wherever, to another continent, away from her, away from all of this. But that demoness had planned everything… We were young, unaware, and inexperienced, unlike her. I was barely 25, and he was 23... we just wanted to..."

She paused to calm herself, her heartbeat quickening again. Fortunately, Jimin was able to calm her, just by being here, his soft hands on hers, and she was grateful for that. She thanked him with a small smile, which he returned by stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. How could a demon be so angelic? 

"She specialized in memory magic..."

"Oh, I'm getting the hang of it..." muttered Namjoon, clenching his jaw.

"That bitch…" added Yoongi, making her huff.

"The villagers arrived in the middle of the night. We didn't see it coming. The demoness took advantage of this moment to attack Jin and cast a spell to erase me from his memory. The last time I saw Jin was before they put a bag over my head when he was unconscious in her arms." 

She lowered her head, and it was only when she felt Jimin's soft hand on her cheek that she noticed a tear had rolled down. 

She knew what the demoness had done, she knew that she'd erased Jin's memory, simply because she'd come to see her a few days later in the cell where she was being held captive. She explained everything, adding that she had offered to give her over to the Catholic order of Dominicans who wrote the Malleus Maleficarum. Which happened, the day after she came.

"When I finally escaped... After several months," she continued anyway, her voice trembling, "I looked for him, I... crossed France from top to bottom, and Europe... I looked for him everywhere, for many years... I never found him... until now..." 

Jimin's hands gripped hers a little tighter. She looked up at him, then at Yoongi, who had moved a little closer to her. Their shoulders were touching, his way of showing her some comfort. 

"So that's what happened..." muttered Namjoon, who had straightened up, his eyebrows furrowed, looking thoughtful.

"I hate humans..." blurted Jungkook as he hugged Taehyung tightly, his companion nodding in agreement. 

"And so, you thought we'd hate you, or I don't know what other nonsense might go through your little head when we know the truth?" Yoongi asked, holding back a laugh. “I don’t see why. I mean. It’s genuine, really.”

She arched her eyebrows in confusion. She thought that it seemed logical. She hadn't been able to protect Jin, she’d left him in the clutches of this demoness who'd probably done a thousand and one things to him that she didn't even want to think about. She hated herself for it.

"Hyung." Hoseok sighed, shaking his head, "stop."

"I failed to protect him, he's my soulmate and... I abandoned him and..."

"You didn't do any of that, Y/N."

Namjoon approached her. He took Jimin’s place and knelt down facing her, placing his hands on hers. 

"You're both the victims. You've met someone stronger, older, more experienced than you and she took advantage of it. You did everything you could. You did your best. You could never be blamed for that. We could never blame you for that. ."

"And Jin hyung won't blame you either, I'm sure," Hoseok added with a small smile. "When he will regain his memory, when we will give him back what that demoness stole from him, he'll be the happiest man in the world to have you back with him, with us. Believe me."

She pressed her lips together, not wanting to cry, not yet. 

Yoongi wrapped his arm around her shoulder, pulling her closer.

"It's over now," he whispered against her hair, "you're not alone anymore, you won't be. We've found you, you've found us." 

She couldn't hold back the few tears that had started to fall. How could she not break down, after all those centuries spent alone, thinking that her soulmates didn't want her, living with the guilt of having abandoned the only soulmate she’d ever known. 

They said the same things as her friends when she told them everything a few days ago.

None of them thought for a second that what happened to Jin and her was her fault. 

That feeling of being understood, of not being judged, of being accepted despite her past mistakes and scars.

That feeling of being in the presence of her soul-mates. 

She hadn't felt so at peace in what seemed like an eternity. Ever since Jin and her were separated.

°°°

"Noona... I have a few questions..."

"Here we go... the kid and his questions. Wait, I'll get you an aspirin and a big glass of water."

Jungkook glared at Yoongi, who had gotten up to go into the kitchen, a sneer on his lips.

Jin still hadn't woken up, but after a simple soothing spell and an herbal ointment she’d carefully placed on his temples, he was calmer, his body more relaxed.

She hadn't wanted to stay, not wanting to risk another attack if Jin woke up again. She learned through Yoongi about the migraine attacks he'd had since the day she met Namjoon. 

But the boys convinced her to stay. Namjoon and Hoseok had disappeared into their library, explaining that they were going to rummage through their books after a potential counter-spell. She wanted to go with them, but they insisted she stay with Jin and rest. 

It didn't take long to realize that Jin's seizures had a direct link with her.

As her soul mate, and despite his forced amnesia, his subconscious knew who she was. But it wasn't strong enough to bring back the memories the demoness had made disappear. Well, they hadn't disappeared, technically; she'd just hidden them very well somewhere in his psyche.

her scent on the clothes of Namjoon, Yoongi, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook had been the trigger for his subconscious to awaken, for his memories to struggle, to resurface and make Jin realize that yes, he did know her, as his intuition suggested. Yes, the person on the hill was her, yes every memory he thought belonged to someone else was his, and that the blurry person sharing them with him was none other than her.

The migraines, the loss of consciousness... were only signs that his body, mind, and soul were fighting to bring his memories back to where they belonged, to finally give him back what that demoness had stolen from him.

Or at least, that's what she’d come to conclude on hearing Yoongi's explanations.

"Ask me anything Jungkook, don't worry," she replied with a small smile, still sitting next to Jin. 

Yoongi had returned with some drinks (no aspirin, to Junkook's great relief) which he gave to the three maknae, still sitting opposite her, and to her, then sat down on the coffee table. 

"I was wondering, how did you find out that you were... immortal? I mean, what does that actually mean?"

She'd been expecting this question. Even for demons, immortality was still a rather vague concept. Nobody is immortal. Demons and vampires aged slowly, very much more slowly than human beings. But they weren't really immortal. 

"I died for the first time after the Malleus Maleficarum experiments, they sentenced me to be hanged to death, like all the witches at that time." 

She heard the exclamations of surprise from the maknaes. Yoongi remained silent, listening to her attentively. 

"I actually died that day. Except... except a few seconds after I took my last breath, my heart started beating again, and I came back to life."

None of them could believe their ears. Yoongi couldn't hide his surprise either, and she knew that a thousand questions were forming in their heads. 

"The second time was a few days later. At a bonfire." she continued, bowing her head, "The thing is… I feel all the pain, all the way to death. But for some reason, I live again and again. No matter how people try to kill me, no matter how I die, my wounds heal themselves, my organs reform." 

"Is it due to a spell?" finally asked Yoongi with his eyebrows furrowed, "or maybe some kind of witch, a hybrid with a phoenix..."

"I think you're going a bit far, hyung..." Taehyung chuckled slightly. 

"Hey, every proposition can be plausible, gamin."

She couldn't hold back a smile. It was obvious that they'd known each other for several decades now, that they'd been through a lot together. In a way, she was relieved that at least they hadn't had to go through all that alone. 

"I've never known the reason, or why I became like that," she finally continued, scratching the back of her neck, "I just am. Several times I thought I wouldn't get up this time from certain injuries, especially during the wars, but I always got up again. And just like that, more than 600 years have gone by." 

"Maybe it's just that fate didn't want you to die before you met your soul mates, who knows." Yoongi chuckled, shrugging. 

"If you think the universe and destiny are that kind of romantic..." Jungkook rolled his eyes.

"I'm tempted to believe that theory, it's much sweeter and more romantic than a curse put on you..." added Jimin with a little pout. 

"Sometimes things just happen, and they're impossible to explain. Even for creatures like us." she let go with a sigh and an embarrassed smile, "In any case, I've stopped looking and obsessing over it, I've just accepted it."

"Still, it must be painful to die, over and over again..." Jimin cocked his head to the side, feeling a wave of sadness as he thought of all she'd had to go through in her long life. As an empath, his reaction hardly surprised her.

If they knew. She didn't want to dwell on how some humans and even other creatures had taken advantage of her immortality to put her through the many horrors she’d experienced. This wasn't the time to talk about all those things.

“Our pretty soulmate is strong and courageous.” Yoongi finally broke the silence after a few seconds, “She’ll talk about it when she feels ready.” 

She bites her lips. She wanted to tell him to not call her pretty, but she felt that it was destined to fail. Yoongi seemed to be stubborn, maybe a little too much. 

“Do you guys think Joonie and Hobi will find something ?” Asked Jungkook, looking at Jin with worry. 

“For sure they will!” exclaimed Jimin, “Namjoon has books that are centuries old and unique, Hobi and him are the most intelligent demons ever! They’ll find something, surely!”

Jimin was passionate, his trust in his partners was blind and absolute. It was probably the same for all of them, she was sure about it, but Jimin was the one who showed it the most. 

“In the worst case…”

“Taehyung don’t start…” mumbled Jungkook, as the others sighed. 

“Let me finish! In the worst case, if we don’t find anything for Jin hyung, the solution is simple, very simple. We’ll create new memories, so many new happy memories all together!”

“If something was robbed from you without your consent, I think you'd like to have it back. Don't you think so?" Yoongi asked, his voice softened as he ruffled Taehyung’s hair who nodded with a sad pout.

He was just as worried as the others. There were so many unanswered questions, so many theories without explanations, so many problems without solutions yet.

“Namjoon and Hoseok always find a way to resolve problems, you should be used to it now.” 

That voice startled all of them. All five heads turned to the sofa beside Yoongi and her. To everyone's surprise, Jin was staring at them, or rather, at her. 

“Jin you’re awake !”

While the younger hurried towards their eldest, their faces racked with worry and relief, she reflexively stepped back.

She couldn't get very far, as her back bumped into a chest. She turned to face Yoongi, who placed his hands gently on her shoulders. He could read the stress and apprehension on her face. He couldn't imagine what she must be feeling right now, coming face to face with the one she'd lost centuries ago. 

"Where are you going like this?" he asked at first in a slightly teasing tone, before he leaned towards her and whispered, his voice softening, "Relax, everything's fine."

She opened her mouth to reply, but no sound came out. She'd spent her whole life looking for Jin and his other soulmates. Now they were all here. They were all in the same house. Everything still seemed so unreal that she didn’t know how to react or what to do. 

“Y/N ?”

She froze when she heard her name coming from Jin's lips. The others in the room gave him a surprised, confused look.

"Hyung, do you..."

"Remember her? Us? Unfortunately not, I don’t. But I heard you guys talking earlier, I wasn't totally unconscious. Thanks for the herbs, by the way, they really appeased my headache."

Her eyes widened at his words. Had he heard everything? Did he know the whole story, just like his other soulmates? In a way, she didn't know if she could handle a new explanation, which was a bit of a relief. On the other, she was concerned about his reaction, since he was the one who was affected. 

Jin straightened up to sit on the sofa, helped by Jimin. Yoongi was still standing behind her and gave her a gentle nudge, so that she didn't push herself aside. 

Jin's eyes landed on her. For a moment, he said nothing, just looked at her. She could feel the stress twisting her stomach, her legs going limp as cotton. She felt weaker than she had ever felt before. 

"Can you come a little closer, please?" 

Jin's voice was soft; she perceived no anger, no resentment on his side. He had kept his comforting aura, the same one she'd known so long ago, the same one that had reassured her countless times. 

She soon faced him and lowered herself slightly to be at the same height as him. 

How was someone supposed to react to finding their soulmate and youthful amnesiac love, lost in tragic circumstances centuries ago? 

She was torn between tears of joy and relief, but the guilt that consumed her seemed to be the most dominant feeling at the moment. 

"Jin I..."

She pursed her lips. Her voice trembled. For sure her body would betray her right now. 

Jin offered him a tender smile and shook his head. 

"Shht, it's all right." he murmured his words as he gently grasped her hand, "come here."

Without waiting for a response from her, he pulled her against him and wrapped his arms around her. 

At first, her eyes widened in surprise. Quickly, she couldn't hold back any longer. Her arms followed and she hugged his waist as if her life depended on it. 

"I know what you're thinking," he began, his hand running gently through her hair, "I'm not angry or anything, how could I be? It was never your fault, nor mine." He paused before letting out a small sigh, she could hear all the pain, the sadness in his voice, "I'm sorry... I'm sorry you've had to carry this burden all alone all this time…"

Her whole body was shaking. His voice was shaking, as if he were holding back his own tears. She was fighting inside. She was fighting herself not to break down. But her traitorous body still betrayed her, and she couldn't even control her tears, which had started to flow uncontrollably. 

But his words. His words resonated not only in her heart but in her entire soul. She didn't know how much she needed to hear those words from him until now. 

"We'll find a way, and everything will go back to normal, it will be even better, I promise."

After all these years, these centuries of living with the weight of guilt, the weight of regret, the feeling that she'd never be able to meet her soul mates... she felt all this weight recede, making way for a quietude and lightness like she'd never known before. 

An eternity of torment, torture, and pain was finally over. 

It was as if she'd been deprived of oxygen all her life, until now, as if her breathing had been cut off, and now she was finally getting it back. 

And even though she was currently crying her heart out in Jin's arms, she could also feel Taehyung's warm, reassuring hand on her back, Jimin's, Jungkook's, and Yoongi's presence in the room, Namjoon's and Hoseok's, even if they weren't in the same room with them. 

Her cries were no longer cries of sadness. There was only relief, and it was becoming more of an evacuation from all that time of pain and isolation. 

All those smells, all that warmth that invaded her body at that moment, brought her calm and relief she'd never be able to explain, not even in a day, a year, ten years, or even a hundred years.

The reunion with Jin that day, feeling him against her again, as well as having the presence of her soul mates around them, those who were destined for her. After all this time where her heart and soul had been crying out for help, she had finally been heard. 

The darkness was finally disappearing, as the clouds and obscurity finally allowed the sun a chance to shine.

And despite her tears, she couldn't help smiling, because at last, she knew that happiness really was within her grasp.

#aly's writing #whalyrae #tog #the old guard #bts #bts au #bts soulmate #bts soulmate au #bts polyamory #bts poly #bts poly!au #bts poly! #bts poly au #bts x reader #poly!bts x reader #best friends dreamcatcher #demon bts #demons bangtan #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts ff #bts x yn

[multifandommilfs]

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

[octopiys]

Please please elaborate on the 141 x OldGuardau!reader

Oh my God hello OK I got u

The Old Guard is a Netflix movie about a group of people who are essentially born in different parts of time, and can die but get resurrected and stuff like that like the original post said, except the movie has more than one person. All of these people are born around historical events (dawn of time, witch trials, reign of terror) and are drawn to find each other and work as a team to not get caught by scientists or governments or anything like that, all while doing what they believe is best to protect the world.

Now for Reader, it's no small feat. If it's only themselves as an Immortal on this team (there's so much red tape around these operations including them) then it's okay. Reader is an asset to the military, and a powerful one at that.

Or maybe the reader is a newer immortal. Maybe they don't know they're immortal until an op goes bad, and they've been shot, bleeding out into an alleyway, their blood mingling with the water. Maybe their Lieutenant is aside them, doing everything within his power to keep them from bleeding out, but the wound is too bad. And in the rain, maybe they even die.

But with a gasp, they're awake again, and the young Lieutenant John Price is shocked. Baffled. No, there's not even a word for how he feels. His sergeant's wounds are knitting together after they died, and he knew they died because he witnessed it himself. He felt their pulse give out.

Now both Reader and Price are terrified. If Reader can't die, what'll happen then? He wants to radio it in to their captain, or the general, but Reader begs him not to.

Meanwhile, on the other side of the world, a war is brewing. Most top governments have heard whispers about a man called Kingfish, one who was so battle worn, so ruthless, so victorious, that he could topple governments by just stepping foot into their building. Rumors spread of no bullet able to pierce his flesh, like he was the Roman God of War himself.

Now, the United States doesn't believe in rumors until they've witnessed it firsthand. Little do they know, they already have.

Kate Laswell may only be a Station Chief, but she's damn good at her job. She knows her kind when she hears it, and recently there's been a shift. Like a sixth sense, she calls John.

And just like that, she knows. The next immortal is here, and with them, comes war.

Years pass, and tensions are rising between the East and the West. Price has even become captain, and scored himself a team and an odd one at that.

Of course, there's Reader. They've always been there first. A little more frazzled as time goes on, but still good. Yeah, still good.

Then joins Simon Riley. They call him the Ghost. This is reader's best bet for another immortal. Laswell has a few arguments against it, but has never outright denied the claim. But how metal is it that he clawed his way out of his own grave? That's immortal material if I've ever heard of it.

Then Kyle Garrick. They call him Gaz. Don't ask why. He's a bright thing, and a wicked sense of humor. He used to be on another force, but after an event, Price handpicked him to be on the task force. He's one of Reader's best friends. They wish he was immortal too.

Finally, came John MacTavish. He was younger than Gaz by at least a few months, making him the youngest on the 141, and Reader always held it over him. He had a fancy for pyrotechnics too, and a hell of a swear to him.

Maybe a few missions go by. Maybe more than that. They still can't get used to seeing Reader lifeless with a bullet in between their eyes, or a knife to the gut, or a grenade blown too close. Wounds heal quicker, but not if they're lethal. Yet the scars never show on their skin by the time the boys are able to pull them out of there. Reckless, maybe, but Reader's saved their asses more times than they could count.

The war rages on.

Kingfish's power grows in the East, and the task force grows wary. Even with Laswell's advice, there was still a guarantee that they'd be sent out to the front when it got bad enough, take out the threat. But the rumors have grown.

Kingfish cannot die.

And Laswell knows.

Kingfish has gone by many names throughout the centuries. His first, Emperor Nero, causing the fall of the entire Roman empire. After he faked his death, he worked from the sidelines. He slayed the last Byzantinian Emperor, he broke through the walls of Constaninople. The Reign of Terror: an advisor, and a trusted one at that. Now, the urge had resurfaced, and he took on a new name once more.

Vladimir Makarov. Kingfish.

Or, the entire team is immortal. Laswell knows about all of them. Ghost knows enough. Reader knows... Somewhat. But nobody else does. Frankly, nobody's given a thought to dying to find out. And until that tunnel, no one had even tried.

The scream is tearing out of reader's throat before Soap even hits the ground, Price still incapacitated, concussed. Reader does not care about the bomb. Ghost doesn't either. They're both there, checking for vitals as they panic, blood spilling out of his wound, as Gaz hoists Price to his feet and they go to disarm the bomb.

They find nothing within Soap. Absolutely nothing. Reader feels cold washing over the room, like they can't breathe. Like a numbness that consumed everything. Soap- If Soap went now... then it could be Gaz, or Price next. Ghost, Reader couldn't even think about. It seemed impossible. And it occurred to Reader that they didn't sign up for this. No dying, compared to anyone and everyone around you perishing in the blink of an eye. They used to be okay with it. And Soap was gone in an instant.

They're dragging him out in a hurry, and the faintest sound is pulled from his lips. It seems Laswell knew more about them all than she let on.

They get caught up in other enemies as Soap peels himself off the floor. They weren't gonna just let Makarov escape, they couldn't. They knew what he could do.

Price told Reader not to go after him. Not alone.

But Reader can't risk losing any more friends. Even if Soap did end up being okay. If something happened to Price or Gaz, they wouldn't be able to live with it.

But they would have to.

So Reader runs. They tear after him like a bat out of hell, taking bullet after bullet, felling each person who fired one. They reach the top of the stairs and launch themself at him, before a gun goes off.

Reader felt it go straight through their side in a searing hot blaze, knowing that this time, something was different. Something was wrong.

The comm was yanked out of their ear and smashed beneath a boot.

The wound they sustained wasn't that bad, in the grand scheme of things. Their vision darkens at the edges, like it does when these things happen, and before reader can close their eyes, a face fills their vision.

"Not as strong now, are you, little one?" The thick curl of Makarov's Russian lilt finds its way into their ears, as the sharp pounding fire in their side grows worse. Despite the woozy fight they put up, Reader is restrained, unable to call for help. The van comes into view as Price bursts out of a window behind them, barreling towards the group, Ghost in high pursuit.

They disappear behind the van's doors as they close, and as Reader's vision dampens more, they wonder why their bullet wound hasn't healed yet.

im so down to completely info dump on this, whether it be more details towards the story, or individual characters like reader or ghost or laswell or anything like that I fucking love the old guard

#call of duty #cod mw2 #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #modern warfare 2 #ghostsoap #captain john price #kyle 'gaz' garrick #cod modern warfare #the old guard #ask #kate laswell #vladimir makarov #cod mw3 #tf 141 x reader #task force 141 #task force 141 x reader #john price x reader #simon riley x reader #kyle garrick x reader #john soap mctavish x reader #x reader

[acupofqueercoffee]

“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

[romancingromanoff]

This is a Life

Andy of Scythia x f!reader

Summary: You end up escaping an arranged marriage set up by your abusive mother in a strange way.

TW: Verbal/physical child abuse (child is now over 18 but it is implied that it has been going on for some time), arranged/forced marriage, 1950′s typical homophobia, somewhat graphic death/injuries, accidental suicide?

Words: 4225

A/N: Hello I am alive! I’ve been wanting to get back into writing recently and I’ve  been disappointed by the lack of Andy x reader content on here so here’s my contribution. More marvel stuff is in the works starting with Thena from Eternals!

“It’s my life!”

“And you are my daughter! You will do this if you wish to remain a part of this family!”

“I told you I won’t marry him!”

A cold hand hits your left cheek.

You were fighting with your mother yet again as the two of you had constantly done for the past 23 years, which was way too long for you to still be living under her roof according to societal standards. While you were inclined to agree, being forced to marry a man in six weeks was not how you wanted to escape.

On paper, you supposed Nicholas Turner was the perfect match, basically everything you could ever ask for in a husband. His wealth certainly appealed to your mother, though he was also kind and considerate with a pleasant looking face others might find attractive.

Unlike those that had briefly tried to court you in the past, what really set Nicholas apart was that he seemed to truly care for you and respect your opinions. There certainly weren’t very many men like him in the 1950’s who didn’t immediately insult your intelligence or worth as a member of the lesser sex.

Not too far into your relationship was when you were finally forced to come to terms with a fear that had been looming over you since your teenage years. It had been easy to tell yourself you were still normal when all the suitors you rejected were immature little boys with stunted emotional development and only seemed to be interested in your body. You could tell yourself that no woman would ever settle for such disrespect in a lifelong partner.

However, you knew there was no denying that Nick was everything you should ever want in a man. You waited for those butterflies you had heard about from your friends to fill you whenever he asked to hold your hand or guide you by the arm for a stroll. But those bubbling feelings of love never came no matter how much you tried to force them. And if they couldn’t show up for Nick, you knew that no man could summon them at all.

The only person that had ever excited you in that way was another girl a few grades above you in school. She tutored you in math for two summers and lived just down the street. You had never felt so drawn to anyone else before.

“I have three brothers so it’s nice that we can spend some time together, just us girls,” she had said. You couldn’t agree more.

As your friendship grew, rumors about her older brother being a… sexual degenerate spread throughout the neighborhood and your mother quickly forbade you from ever speaking to anyone in her family again. The last time you’d heard about your friend was when her parents had thrown her brother out of the house and cut all contact with him.

No part of you wanted to believe that your friend had agreed with their actions but what if she had? What would she say if she were to ever find out about your true feelings for her? She would surely be just as disgusted as your mother.

“Yes. You. Will. You think this is your life? Well I gave it to you and I can just as easily take it away!”

You weren’t too certain about that after the strange events that took place the day before. Another argument with your mother turned violent and she started throwing some of her empty bottles at you. Although none of them hit their target, one flew through the back window and caused glass to shatter everywhere.

After cleaning up inside the house, you made your way outside to assess whatever damage certainly awaited you there. What you hadn’t been expecting to find was that one of the bottles hit a poor baby bunny not too far from the window. Falling on your knees in front of it, it pained you to watch as its small body twitched only a few times before ultimately turning as still as stone. The thought of leaving it there for other animals to pick on or carelessly throwing it in the trash didn’t seem right to you, so with a sigh you decided to find a shovel and dig it a small grave. It’s not like you were in a rush to face your mother so soon anyway.

The shed with the gardening tools hadn’t been organized since the warmer months. Coughing at the cloud of dust that immediately filled your lungs as the door squeaked open, you blindly staggered in the direction of the shovel, trying to feel for it with your hands, when your foot found a rake that was lying on the ground. The wooden pole smacked you dead in the middle of your face, forcing you to fly back like in one of those children’s cartoons that often played before the main films at the cinema. It sounded like a tornado was tearing through the shed.

All you could feel was pain spreading throughout your body. There was no doubt that your skull had cracked open as a gooey warmth began to soak your hair and pool down your neck. A sharp object also seemed to be lodged in your middle area and it quickly became difficult to breath or even remember what life was like before this agony.

You almost tried to call for help, hoping that your mother might at least be decent enough not to wish for your death, but something about that idea stopped you. What would she even be saving you from exactly? You knew you were dying as a strange numbness began to take over all your senses, yet a part of you seemed to be at peace with what was to come.

Lying about who you were for the rest of your life was worse than a death sentence in its own way. Maybe this could be your mercy if happiness was never attainable for someone like you. Maybe this was for the best.

There was absolute darkness and a sense of peace that seemed to stretch on forever. Suddenly, all of that shattered as oxygen forcefully filled your lungs. Something inexplicable had brought you back.

While your body still ached, a quick assessment helped you conclude that your injuries had healed almost miraculously. Your skull was awfully bloody but definitely smooth and in one piece. Slowly sitting up, you discovered that a long pair of garden shears is what had impaled your abdomen where you were certain a few of your vital organs must have been torn.

You were covered in both dried blood and newly formed skin with no idea how any of it was possible. The only thing you could think of doing was running back into the house to wash yourself off.

Darkness had covered the sky by then and you knew your mother must have been asleep by that point. Initially that made you feel relieved that you could dodge any questions she had until morning. However, as you scrubbed the leftover blood and sweat from your body, the fact that she must not have been concerned at all dawned on you. You had died out in the shed and where had she been?

“No, you don’t get to hurt me anymore!” You shook your head and stood your ground with a newfound sense of power only coming back from the dead could have given you. “You don’t get to control me like I’m your puppet! I’m not going to marry him or anyone else you try to push on me either. I’ve known this for a long time and I think you have too. But I can’t because I’m–”

“NO! No, I will not hear this nonsense again! I have things from the store I need to pick up and I expect all of this sudden change in attitude to be over when I get back. Or I will be beating you everyday until it’s your husband’s problem!”

Somehow her words managed to hurt you more than any physical attack could. You tried your best to hold in your tears as she gathered her purse and keys before slamming the front door behind her, but your eyes began stinging just as you retreated to your bedroom. This time, your instincts were successfully able to guide you on where to step.

You don’t know how long you stood there, disassociating and losing track of the time as you urged yourself not to cry.

A hand landed on your shoulder and caused an instinctive shudder to roll through your body. “Please, don’t!” You whimpered at the contact which you expected came from your mother.

“I’m not here to hurt you. But I need you to trust me.”

You turned and your eyes shot up. The speaker of the voice was unlike any other person you had ever seen. Her hair was cut extremely short, like the style Audrey Hepburn was known for, but with no makeup or bold lip color she appeared more boyish. She was also very tall for a woman, about as tall as some men you knew, though it didn’t scare you to stand beside her like it would with them. It was subtle, but sometimes you felt like they relied on their height advantage to make sure you were on a lower peg than them.

This woman was different with the way she assessed you with a lack of judgment. Something told you that she was worried about scaring you, not wanting to come off like she was sizing you up. You could see it in her eyes and god were they gorgeous. They were a mesmerizing shade that made you believe you were seeing the color for the very first time. You would gladly let the woman hypnotize you with those glowing pools of green.

“Who are you?” Your voice shook even though you could sense she didn’t wish to harm you.

She kept her voice calm and steady. “My name is Andromache of Scythia. But you can call me Andy.”

Andy? Andy. Hearing the name caused something to resurface in your mind. Not quite a song or a memory but something you had definitely heard recently. A man had been screaming that name as you felt him die.

“I’ve seen you before. I dreamed you were trying to save a man. A friend. Two other people were there as well. You were all surrounded. You were dying.”

“There are five of us now, including you, and we all do the same thing. We die and come back. And I know you probably have a lot of questions, which I promise I can answer, but you need to pack some clothes and come with me now.”

“Go with you? Where?”

You had been on a rollercoaster once as a child. It was a tall wooden one with a large loop that initially made you change your mind about riding it. That was before your mother informed you she had already bought your tickets and wasn’t about to let the money go to waste. The fear rose within your stomach with every inch the giant wooden coffin you rode in crept higher and higher into the domain of the clouds and birds. Every voice in your head screamed that you weren’t supposed to be here. A part of you was so terrified that you considered reaching for your mother’s hand. As if she would comfort you.

But then you finally made it to the top. All you could think about as you saw the sun setting on the horizon was how badly you wished you could chase it. And then you did. The ride dropped and your fears dissipated as laughter escaped from your body instead. For the first time ever, you could taste a sense of freedom.

That’s what it felt like when Andy reached for your chin and gently brushed the back of two of her other fingers against the cheek most recently marked by your mother. You weren’t entirely sure what the future looked like with her, yet you were eager to find out and explore all the possibilities opening up before you. No one had ever held you with such tenderness and care while also making you feel protected and safe. You watched as the woman’s eyes flickered from your cheek to your slightly parted lips before she withdrew her touch. It left you feeling empty.

“The woman that hurts you will be coming back any minute now,” she announces quickly before she starts darting around your room. She pulls out a suitcase from your closet and stares at you expectantly, like she needed you to move as if the house was on fire. “We need to leave before that happens.”

“My mother? She’s done terrible things but she’s still my mother. I can’t just leave without letting her know.”

“What’s your name?” Andy asks you. You tell her.

“Y/N, please listen to me,” she sets the suitcase down on your bed before taking your hands into hers. A part of your soul leaves your body right then and there. “Individuals like your mother have hurt you your entire life when you should have been protected. I’m so sorry no one stood up for you before. You didn’t deserve any of that. But now even more people that want to harm you are going to be on our trail as soon as they find out who and what you are. Now that I’ve found you, I can protect you. Me and the other three guys on our team. So please, come with me so that I can keep you safe.”

“Y/N?! Come help me!” Your mother’s shrill voice rings through the house.

“Pack quickly, I’ll hold her off,” Andy urgently reaches for something in her pocket which is when you realize she’s had a knife on her this whole time. Your eyes go wide.

“Wait! Please don’t hurt her! I’ll go with you but you can’t hurt her. That’s my only condition, I swear.”

You haven’t known her for long. You wish you could spend the next hundred years studying her face and getting to know everything there is to know about her. But somehow, you can still tell that something breaks inside her because of your pleading. She holds your gaze for the shortest eternity before nodding back at you.

“Okay,” she promises. You can tell she’s going to be true to her word. “But you have to follow my lead. When I say we need to leave, we leave.”

“Okay.”

You scramble to pack the most important things that come to your mind. A family picture of you, your mother, and your sister. The bracelet that your grandmother gave you. Your drawing notepad. It’s not too difficult to decide what clothes you bring as you have no real attachment to any specific pieces.

Echoes of your mother marching down the hall cause you to freeze up instantly. There’s one last thing you need to grab and of course it has to be in the trickiest place to get to.

“There’s a box of letters under the rug and the floorboard right here. Can you please get it? I’ll talk to her.” Andy nods before you dart out a small crack in your door and quickly close it behind you. It brings you face to face with your warden and the only obstacle that stands in your way of escape.

“What are you doing in there? I expect you to help me bring in my bags from the car. Are you going deaf or do I need to slap some more sense into you?”

“I’m leaving,” you manage to blurt out before fear stops you from changing your mind.

“You’re what?”

“I’m leaving. I’m not marrying Nicholas. I can’t and I won’t.”

“This again? How much longer will you insist on acting like a petulant child? I demand you stop this nonsense at once!”

“No. I’m leaving and you won’t get to control my life anymore.”

A look that you can only describe as amused appears on the woman’s face as she gives you a scoff. “Oh really? And where do you think you’ll go with no car or money to your name? I know you’re nervous about the wedding but-”

“I will never marry him or any other man either!” This was the first time you had ever raised your voice this loud and it was having quite the effect on both of you. The woman in front of you was completely stunned at your change in demeanor, her eyes wide and mouth slightly agape.

“I’m not like you! And I’m tired of pretending to be someone I’m not. For so long, I’ve tried to feel the way I know I’m supposed to feel about boys but I simply can’t. And I think a part of me has always known that I’m-”

The swift sound of a crack silences you, though you don’t exactly register the pain straight away like normal. You bring a finger to your lower lip and it comes black with a droplet of blood. A second later, you touch the same spot and it’s completely healed.

“Silence! You’ll shut your mouth right this instant if you know what’s good for you. These ideas of… of perverse behavior aren’t you. You’re obviously ill and need to see a doctor immediately.”

“No mother, I-” You’re interrupted once again, although this time as your bedroom door swings open you aren’t scared of being struck or hurt. Andy’s presence alone means you are protected.

“Your items are secure. We need to leave now,” she takes a firm hold of your waist and pulls you closer to her body. From the threatening look she’s throwing at your mother you can tell that your presence is the only thing keeping the much taller and stronger woman from breaking out into a fight. Although, calling it that felt entirely wrong as it implied your mother would be able to stand a chance at winning.

“Excuse me?” The older woman spat like she had nearly swallowed a fly. “Who is-... Who do you think you are and how dare you come into my house!”

“Lady, all you need to know is that I’m the one that’s going to be doing what you’ve failed to do and actually protect your daughter from now on. Unless you want this to get violent, I would suggest stepping out of our way.”

No one had ever spoken to your mother that way and had anyone but Andy been foolish enough to yell at her,  you would be worrying for their safety. But even after five minutes of knowing her, it was clear that Andy wasn’t easily swayed by a few empty threats.

“I–... Oh, now I understand everything completely. You must be the one that has corrupted my daughter with these wicked thoughts! Y/N, you can’t possibly believe this… this stranger intends to do anything but manipulate you! Whatever feelings you think you may have for her are wrong and can be corrected. I don’t want you to end up like this disgusting degenerate!”

“Don’t you dare call her that!” Your anger spikes hearing the venom in her words. Andy may or may not be immune to them but that doesn’t mean you can’t be offended on her behalf. “She actually respects me and treats me like a human being!”

“So what? Your plan is to run away together and go where? Do what? You are nothing without me and you know it! Since you were born-”

An involuntary scream leaves your body as the taller woman moves like a flash of light. Before she can even process anything, your mother falls to the floor into an unconscious slump at your feet.

“Oh my God.” It seems almost impossible to tear your eyes away from the sight before you. You’ve never seen someone so… still. Then it dawns on you that she might be…

“She’s just unconscious,” Andy cups your face in her hands and you’re forced to look at her, ”I promise. She’ll be fine but we have to go now.”

Nodding, the two of you set off like there’s still someone on your trail. For a few seconds you’re able to look back at your mother one last time. The woman that gave birth to you. Raised you. Hit you. Broke you. She’ll never be able to hurt you again.

You breathe a barely audible “goodbye” to her, wondering where you’ll be by the time she wakes up. There’s the tiniest twinge of guilt at the thought of her actually missing you when she does, yet with every step you make towards your new future you yearn to speed up.

Andy guides you straight to the front door and outside into the rain. The two of you don’t stop until you reach a car around the corner that she unlocks for you. Your body is cold and numb, which the other woman immediately notices and she tries to drape your body with a thin blanket from the backseat after she starts the engine. You doubted that this car had any heating but couldn’t care too much about that.

“Thank you,” you’re able to mutter. “I’m sorry she… about those things she said.”

“Y/N, you have nothing to apologize for. You are in no way responsible for her actions.”

You could get used to hearing Andy say your name like that. She had a way of saying it that reminded you how it was your very own. How you were your own person.

“No, I do, Andy. At least let me say this for my own peace. You got dragged into something that should have stayed between us and she made some wrongful assumptions about you. You are completely right to feel offended or upset with me. And now that you know that I’m… Well, it seems you know more about me than almost anyone else. What I mean to say is that I understand if you’re disgusted by me.”

Much to your surprise, the brunette calmy pulled the car over to stop on the side of the road so that she could better face you. Fear that she might ask you to get out flickered in your heart for a second, but then she carefully took your hand into her own, holding it so tenderly.

“Y/N, everything that I said in there still stands. I care about you and I want to protect you. And for the record, not that anyone else’s opinion but your own matters, I see nothing wrong with you. You love the way you love, that’s nothing to be ashamed about. You deserve all the happiness the world can give you, which is what I’m willing to fight for.”

The buildup of emotions from the past 24 hours combined with the softness in her words is enough to strip you of your very last defenses. Your vision blurs, though the slight stinging in your eyes is admittedly therapeutic. Andy, however, only grows more concerned for you based on the look on her face.

“No, no, I’m okay,” you promise her and crack a smile. “It’s just strange to have someone that cares about me. The real me, I mean. There must be some way I can repay you for everything.”

She analyzed you with such curiosity that it’s impossible to tell what sort of thoughts are running through her head. Her other hand slowly moves to move a stray hair from your face. You doubt she meant for the contact to feel so intimate, yet you relish in the tiny sprinkles of touch she gives you.

Andy releases a deep sigh. “You don’t have to repay me for anything. We’re a team now and that means we take care of each other.”

Of course you had forgotten there was a team, meaning there were more of you she must have been referencing aside from yourself. It felt stupid to think she could have felt differently about you after knowing each other for less than a day. And what were the chances she would even see you in that way?

“Right,” you struggle to wipe the tears from your face. “I guess I should learn about the others then. When will we be introduced?”

“Soon, I promise.” Andy goes to restart the car and you notice her chuckle as she begins to speed up to get back on the road. “I think you’ll really like them, actually. We all have a lot in common so there’s no chance they won’t immediately like you like I do.”

You swear that you almost died for a second time from a heart attack.

“You mean besides being able to come back from the dead?” You tried to play it cool, hoping she wouldn’t notice how nervous you suddenly were.

“Actually, yes. It’s about a three hour drive from here so you can get some sleep if you want. I know you must be exhausted.”

You can’t really protest when a yawn immediately escapes after the mere mention of a nap. So you drift away, driving off toward your new life, with Andy’s hand safely cradling yours.

#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 #fluff #andy #charlize theron #andy x reader #andromache x reader

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

Kinktober Day 28

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

Pairing: Andy (The Old Guard) x Reader

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

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

“Get up.” 

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

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

“Are you always this agreeable?” 

“Being agreeable will get you killed.” 

“Only temporarily.”

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

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

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

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

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

“I was—I was trying to—” 

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

“Andy.” 

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

“For what?” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“What?” You asked dumbly. 

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

She grinned as you scrambled up off of the floor.

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

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

[farahtissaiamyloves]

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

[annie-creates]

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

[merci-bitch]

There's barely any Andromache fics and i want to read more.So this popped into my head.

So before Andy and Y/n were accused of being witches(Y/n take Quuynh's place) then instead of sinking them into the sea they actually just take Y/n to the other side of the world.After Hundreds of years Nile becomes an immortal.What they didn't know was Y/n was actually Niles best friend and They Reunite. Then the rest is your imagination to make.

I just want it to be really Angsty then just pure fluff when they meet eachother again. And maybe even throw a little spice😉.

ANYWAYS♡♡♡♡i love your works and i hope you have a great day

Now, I can’t tell you how long I’ve worked on this. I haven’t written anything this long since I wrote for Addison. I won’t say how many words but it was 16 long pages. 16. 

I really liked the idea, and I hope I’ve done it justice! 

Not my gif !

Come Whatever, Come What May

Andromache the Scythian x fem!reader

Warning(s): torture, a little swearing, lots of angst, mention of death, blood, small hint of NSFW, fluff

It was you and her. 

It had always been you and Andromache. Why should it change now? Sure, knowing the circumstances. You were both “witches” as the people called you. You couldn’t die. You’d lived many lives, many of them together with Andromache. So why should it change now? You weren’t afraid. You were with her. Your love. Your other half. despite the chains holding you up against the wall, and the dirt covering your faces. You had her, and she had you. 

“I’ve never been burned alive before. What do you think it is going to be like?” You asked. Your face is covered in dirt and sweat. A smile on your lips as you turned your head towards Andromache. 

“Excruciating,” Andromache said before she turned her head towards you. Giving you her signature smile. Enough to light up a whole room. Despite the dim light from the fire. You both shared a little laugh. You turned your head and looked out into the room. The walls of stone were covered in dirt. As you did, Andromache kept looking at you. Her wide smile turned soft. You turned your head back to her. Your eyes stare into hers. 

“Just you and me.” You whispered.

“Until the end.” She replied softly. 

The moments after were always a nightmare for Andromache. She remembers everything. As if she failed you. When they walked in with a priest, him holding the crucifix against his chest. She remembers looking at you, seeing you calm. You always surprised her. Then suddenly, they unlocked the chains that held you to the wall, pulling you up, but they didn’t do the same to her. The wall suddenly opened as two doors and outside was a shout from the people of the village. A wagon was waiting. The door opened, although it looked more like a cage. She still remembers your sudden scream. She remembers how you started struggling against the men holding you. How she stood up herself. How she tried to get to you, tried to break free of the chains holding her to the wall. 

“Where are you taking her?” Andromache asked the priest who approached her. Holding the crucifix close to his chest.

“You are too powerful together. For creatures such as you, there is no salvation.” He spoke. His tone was not weary but showed he had the power. She still remembers that look in his eyes as he separated you. She still remembers how four men suddenly carried you towards the wagon. How you screamed and struggled against them and how she was helpless. She still remembers screaming after you. How you screamed her name in fear. For the first time since she’d found you. 

“Y/N!” She screamed. Trying to get loose from the chains, even though she knew she wouldn’t get loose. She still remembers how her wrists burned against the metal. How she bled. She still remembers how you cried for her. 

“Andromache!”

She remembers it all. How they took you from her, and how she couldn’t do anything. She couldn’t save you. The doors closed and Andromache was left in the dark. Alone for the first time in centuries. She remembers how she fell to her knees, how the blood from her wrists stained the ground and her gown. She suddenly felt too weak to cry. The tears streamed down her cheeks silently. She remembers how she lost you forever. She remembers it all.

-

It still haunted you. You remembered it all. How could you not? It was like living a nightmare. Not just being taken from Andromache but all those years of being locked in a cage and tortured on the other end of the world. It had taken years, if not decades. You’d searched for her for a long time. It broke your heart every time you came up empty-handed. You couldn’t find her. Was she looking for you? You hoped she was. Hoped that one day you would be able to see those eyes of hers again. Be able to see that smile you loved, but not all dreams come true. You’d given up. You felt hopeless. You’d run dry on ideas to find her. You hoped for a miracle someday. 

A miracle comes in different waves. You started living, despite the guilt you lived with. You tried to settle down. Did the only thing you knew now that you were good at? Fighting. You joined the army, or well you joined the training. At first, you kept to yourself, knowing that it wouldn’t be wise to mingle. It made you question why you had made this choice in the first place. You quickly rose in favour of the general. You were famous around the camp for her quick movements. You could thank Andromache for that. 

You meet a younger girl. Her name is Freeman, Nile Freeman. At first, you’d tried to ignore her friendly gestures. It worked until you had been paired up as partners. You couldn’t help but find her rather comforting, and sooner than later she became your friend. Something you never thought you’d have again. She lifted you. You were grateful for that. You two became a pair. A good team. It reminded you of you and Andromache. It made your heart extra sore at times. Knowing you’d possibly never see her again. The world had grown to an insane amount of people. It was both impossible and possible to disappear into the world you were living in today. Nile helped you disappear into a new world. 

She talked and you listened. She often talked about her family. How she was proud to follow in her father’s steps. You had no problem listening. Nile didn’t seem to mind either, till one night when she suddenly asked you about your life before the training camp. You were a little taken aback. What were you to say? You couldn’t exactly say you’d fought millions of battles alongside the longstanding warrior herself. You hadn’t thought up a story. 

“Well, there isn’t much to tell,” You said, shrugging your shoulders. 

“Come on Y/N. There must be something you can tell me.” Nile had jokingly said. You gave her a soft smile. “Well, I guess there is one thing I can tell.” You said slowly. 

“Yeah! Do tell. I’m all ears.” Nile said with a smile as she sat more comfortably on the bed. 

“There was this woman. She and I meet a long time ago and we grew very close, but we lost contact many years ago. It was always just me and her. We did everything together. She was a real fighter. She taught me how to fight. She saved my life.” You said with a soft smile. Your heart ached as you remembered your times with Andromache. 

“What happened to her?” Nile asked. A great concern in her tone. She touched your arm and squeezed it. 

“Life, I guess. We were pulled apart by a world that thought we didn’t belong together. I lost her.” You said slowly. Feeling your heart crumble. Nile pulled you into a hug and rubbed your back. “Life is cruel, and you didn’t deserve it. I hope you find her one day, or I will.” She said sternly. You couldn’t help but laugh at the scene before you. You were glad Nile had wormed her way into your heart. It did you good to laugh again. 

-

Training continued but something changed. You were “damaged” in a fight and were sent to the hospital wing. You knew it had healed before you even got there but played the part. Having played it many times before. It cost you, and you were told you wouldn’t be sent out in action. A part of you felt relief. You wouldn’t have to play God on the battlefield, but you had heard Nile was being sent out to Afghanistan. You felt proud of your friend. Nile was a great warrior.  

You were still in the hospital wing when she came to say goodbye. You gave her your necklace. One of the few things you had left from Andromache that wasn’t taken from you. It had brought you luck and kept you safe. You wanted it to do the same for her. You gave It to her with a soft smile. “See it as a lucky charm. It’ll keep you safe.” 

-

It had been a few months. You were sent home and Nile had been sent to war. It was late at night, and you’d just fallen asleep when you woke up as if someone knocked the air out of you. A special dream had clouded your head. You knew what it meant, but it had been so long. Nearly 200 years since the last. You’d never meet the people. One day the dreams just stopped. The strange thing about this dream, if not a disturbing thing was that it was Nile.

She had become one of you. You wanted to scream and cry. Why? Why her? Why now? She looked like she had been in some sort of hospital wing. Had she gotten hurt? You couldn’t understand what was happening. 

It wasn’t long until you got the call saying Nile was killed in action. It didn’t make any sense. She couldn’t die now, could she? Where had she gone off to then?

-

Andy had just closed her eyes when a sudden dream appeared. Waking her, along with the others in shock. As they all woke, they felt the loss of air. Andy sat herself straighter up against the wall as the dream continued. Panic started to flow through her as she went through her hair with her fingers. Shaking her head in disbelief. Booker opened his mouth and poured the alcohol in. 

“No. No, not another one. Not now.” She said.

“It was a woman. A black woman.” Nicky said. 

“I saw an older woman in a hijab. What did you see?” Joe said as he scribbled down in his notebook, turning to Booker. 

“I saw…I saw part of a name tag.”

“Uh, yeah. Free…free something.”

“Yeah.”

“Dirt floor, clay walls.” Nicky cut in.

“And a medevac,” Booker added.

“Yeah, so maybe a, uh…a coalition…uh medical team,” Joe said, writing it down. 

“The knife was a pesh-kabz. Pashtun.” Nicky said as Joe started to draw the woman they’d seen. Booker groaned as he rubbed his throat. “I felt her die.”

“She’s a Marine.” Andy suddenly said. “Combat. Or near-combat duty. Afghanistan.” She spoke. Shaking her head as she finished. “It’s been over 200 years. Why now?” Andy said, running her fingers through her hair once again. 

“Everything happens for a reason, boss,” Nicky said, looking at Andy. Andy only scoffed at him. 

“We have to find her,” Joe said, looking up from his drawing. 

“No, we stick to the plan. We find Copley.” Booker argued. 

“So we just leave her out in the open?” Joe replied.

“No, we’re in the open. We’re the ones who are exposed now.”

“Not like her.” Nicky cut in. 

“Nicky- “

“Not like her. You can’t tell me you don’t remember what it was like. Whoever she is, she’s confused, and she’s scared, and she’s more alone than she has ever been in her entire life. We all remember what it was like.” Booker let out a sigh. Nicky looked down at the drawing Joe was making and spoke again, “She needs us.”

Andy hit the trunk with her foot in frustration before getting up. “I’ll handle the retrieval.”

“Hey, boss, come on,” Booker said, looking up at Andy as she placed her backpack on her back. 

“If we’re dreaming about her, she’s dreaming about us. That makes her a beacon straight to us.” 

“What do we do in the meantime?” He asked.

“Get to France. Use the Charlie safe house. I’ll meet you there. Find Copley.”

Joe blew the dust off his painting and ripped the page out and handed it to Andy. Andy took it and looked at it. A pang in her chest as she saw the drawing. “Jesus. She’s just a baby.” Andy then walked towards the door of the train side, opened it, and jumped out. 

-

Nile sat on the bench, leaning back against the tent. A small panic feeling growing in her as she was rocking back and forth. The necklace you gave her worked a little too well. Ironic, isn’t it? It had always been in her pocket and still was. With a shaky hand, Nile put her headphones in and opened iTunes. Goodspeed by Frank Ocean came on. Nile leaned back and closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as the music and lyrics shut everything else out. She felt her chest tighten and a small tremble in her bottom lip. A deep breath after another. 

Andy walked along the side and looked around the corner. She saw the girl sitting up against the wall with headphones in her ears. The girl’s eyes opened, and two soldiers came up to her. 

“Corporal Freeman.”

Andy moved away and pressed herself against the side. 

“Been looking for you.” One of them said. “Wheels on your ride.” He got to say before Andy walked in, knocking down the first and then the second soldier in front of the girl. Nile took the gun from the ground only to have Andy snatch it from her hands and point it at her. 

“Who are you?”

“Andromache the Scythian.” She said before hitting her in the neck with the base of the gun. The younger woman fell to the ground. Andy looked around before looking down at the newbie. “But you can call me Andy.”

-

Andy drove against the desert in the car. Having stuffed the girl in the trunk of the car. One hand on the wheel and the other hanging halfway out the window. Only switching hands so she could reach for a piece of baklava to eat. 

Nile woke up as her body swayed to the ground. Slowly lifting her head, she didn’t recognise where she was. She looked up and saw that very same woman who had knocked her out driving the car. Nile turned herself as she saw the level to open the trunk from the inside. Using what strength she had in her leg, she kicked at it until it opened, slipping out and rolling against the harsh ground. 

Andy looked back as she heard it, pressing the breakers of the car before stepping out. She looked at the girl with a sense of irritation. As the girl got up, she took off her sunglasses and slowly followed behind. As the girl got up, Andy took out her gun and shot her in the back of her head. She put back her gun and walked towards the body. Stopping as she reached it. She shook her head as the wound was still bleeding. “Why does it have to be so goddamn slow the first couple of times?” She said before cracking her neck. Slowly the wound began to heal, and the girl took a deep breath. 

Nile coughed out, slowly turning as she groaned in pain. She looked up and saw the same woman standing above her. Slowly sitting up, moving a few feet away from her she finally spoke up. “You shot me.”

“I did. I need you to get back in the car, please.” She said like it was nothing. 

Nile started breathing heavier. “This isn’t real. No, none of this is real.”

“You haven’t figured this out yet? You can’t die.” The woman said as she grabbed onto her, pulling her up. Nile acted out of instinct and reached for her knife and stabbed the woman in her shoulder. Causing her to shout out. “Fuck!” Andy let out a sigh. Looking over at the girl before she reached for the knife and pulled it out. Throwing it away. “Can you please not do that again.” Nile stepped back and vomited on the ground. Andy closed her eyes to gather herself before opening them again. Jesus. Nile looked over at the woman again, that anxiety still lingering in her chest. “Who are you?”

“I lead a group of immortals. An army, I guess. Soldiers. Fighters like you. Look…You’ve got questions, kid. I get it. You want answers? Get back in the car.” Andy said, before moving back to the car and getting in. the girl followed slowly behind her before she got in herself. 

-

You knew something was wrong when you got the call that Nile had passed in battle. It didn’t make any sense. You saw her in your dreams which could only mean one thing. That she was just like you now. A life not worth living. You wished you’d died all those years ago. Despite having Nile, it was miserable living with the guilt of Andromache. You would never wish this life upon anyone. It was all so strange. It didn’t make any sense. Of course, you hadn’t told Nile about what you were, to be frank, you never knew yourself. What good would she have out of knowing what you were? 

It hadn’t been the best year, neither had the years before. It had been hard to remember what the point was anymore. You’d been walking around confused. But then again, it hadn’t been the worst year. People had treated you like a stranger, but Andromache hadn’t, and neither had Nile. So, to be taken from both felt indescribable. You felt, stuck again. You didn’t believe Nile was dead. Not with the dreams. You felt her die. You felt the blade pierce her sin. You saw a hint of others in the dream, although they were too fuzzy to remember. You wished you had Andromache by your side. She would know what to do. 

You’d spent a few days trying to figure out what to do. You weren’t the best tracker. But you figured that if Nile had died in battle, her family would have deactivated her phone at least on the way back to the US, but it wasn’t. It was in France? But where in France you couldn’t see. You didn’t know how to feel. Was she dead or alive, or immortal like you?

-

Nile woke up gasping for air. Her fist clenched into the covers beneath her. Waking everyone around her, Andy raised her head from where she sat in the living room. 

“What’s going on?” Booker asked, reaching for his gun. 

“What’s happened Nile?” Nicky asked after turning on the small lamp on the shelf. Andy sat in the chair, concern starting to grow on her features. Nile took a deep breath before speaking. 

“It’s just a… a bad dream. I’m sorry.” Nile leaned forward, still gasping for air as she spoke. 

“Tell us,” Nicky said, his eyes adjusting to the light. 

“I saw flashes of it before…when I first dreamt of all of you. But now it’s clearer. I dreamed of a woman thrown into a cage on wheels.”

As Nile started talking about her dream, the name of a woman thrown into a cage on wheels caught Andy’s attention. Her eyes suddenly felt glossy as a pang went through her chest. 

“She kept, screaming. She was dying and dying but kept coming back to life.”

As Nile continued to speak, Andy stood up. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She didn’t want to hear it. Nicky and Joe shared a look. 

“She was hammering her bloody fists and legs against whatever man came forward, against the walls of the room she was in.”

Andy slowly walked forward, closing her eyes as Nile kept talking. 

“She felt like something insane, something furious.” 

Andy’s eyes were almost bloodshot red as she stepped up the steps. 

“But she kept fighting…and she kept dying.” Nile let out a small cry as she spoke. 

Andy stood by the wall, looking through the window, keeping her distance. It was you she was talking about. A tear rolled down Andy’s cheek. The rest of the group look at each other before Nicky spoke up. 

 “Her name was Y/N. She was one of us. The first immortal Andy found. They had been alone so long when she found her…Y/N had given up.” 

Nile moved to sit on the edge of the bed. 

“Way back, it was just her and Andy,” Joe said.

 As they continued to talk, Andy sat down, rubbing her eyes clear from the tears that were threatening to come loose. Memories of her and you came flooding back to her. Memories she had tried to block out of her mind. 

 “Before me and Nicky, it was just the two of them. They ran through the world together. Fought thousands of battles side by side. She was a pit viper in a fight.”

Andy looked down at the ground below her, turning her head when Nicky mentioned England. 

 “They were in England. Freeing so-called heretics from the witch trials. But then, Andy and Y/N, they were accused of witchcraft themselves, and they were trapped and caught.”

“When they didn’t die, it proved their case, and they got sentenced again and again.” Joe cut in. 

 Andy felt another tear slip as that night came rolling back into her memories. The night you were taken from her. Your last scream before the doors closed on her was burned in her memory. Every time she closed her eyes, she saw it all before her again. Like she was being forced to relive every moment of it. 

 “After Andy escaped, we spent decades searching for her or anyone who could tell us where she was sent to,” Nicky said after a while. Andy couldn’t stop the tears from flowing. For a brick second her façade dropped. the guilt was too strong for her to handle. 

 “She’s lived with that guilt ever since, but she blames herself for Y/N’s fate,” Joe said, pointing out to the other room. Andy stepped in; eyes still red from crying. Gathering the attention of the rest. 

 “Why do you blame yourself?” Nile asked. 

 “I lost a soldier,” Andy said, looking at Nile for a moment before looking elsewhere.

 “I feel her pain. Her rage. She feels crazy.” Nile said, empathy overtaking her words.

Andy looked down to the ground as she leaned against the door. 

 “Over 500 years in a cage…in some shithole across the world…would make anyone insane,” Joe said. 

 “That’s the reason why we dread capture. Spend eternity in a cage.” Nicky added. 

Nile took a deep breath. Suddenly getting up from the bed, brushing past Andy on her way out. Andy shared a look with Joe before making her way after Nile. Grabbing her gun on the way out. 

-

Nile woke up. Another nightmare flooded through her. It was just her and Booker in the cave. Andy wasn’t there. The memories of what happened in the church still haunt her. All those dead bodies in the church. How Andy slayed them herself. 

 Nile walked out of the cave; it was early morning. She didn’t know what the time was, but she knew that much. She saw Andy sitting on the car, eating something. She was holding something in her hand. She made eye contact with Andy before she looked away again. Andy held up the phone in her hand and looked at Nile again. 

 “Your mom and brother?”

 “You have my phone?”

 Nile walked forward and Andy handed the phone to her. Nile sat down next to her and looked down at her lock screen. Her mother and brother smiled back at her. The clock read, 6:31 in the morning. 

 “Where’s your father?” Andy asked. 

 Nile looked up from her phone. “Killed in action when I was 11.”

 Andy nodded her head slowly as Nile spoke. “Here…” Nile said as she unlocked her phone and found a picture of her father to show. “My mom, she was drowning after he died. South side of Chicago, a million different ways we could have went left. But she fought for us. Never backed down. Never let us back down either.” Andy gave her a soft smile. 

 “You come from warriors.”

 “Yeah. I do.” Nile said softly. 

 “I can’t remember what my mother looked like. Or my sisters. None of them.”

 “Time steals it all away, I guess,” Nile said. Andy laughed softly. 

“It’s not what time steals, it’s what it leaves behind,” Andy said as she looked up. For a quick moment, she saw you before her. That smile. It seemed to be the only thing she remembered, but it faded quickly from her memories. “Things you can’t forget. I gave up searching for her.” Nile turned her head as Andy started talking again. “I made Y/N a promise and I broke it.” Nile saw how Andy’s eyes started to glisten in the early morning light. “I’m getting Joe and Nicky back. Whatever it takes.”

 “Whatever it takes?” Nile asked. 

 Andy turned back to look at the younger woman next to her. “Yes.”

 “Guys, I found something. An address just outside of London.” Booker suddenly came out and spoke. Andy got up and took all the wrappers from the chocolate bars she’d eaten and held out her hand for the phone in Nile’s hand. “We gotta go.” Nile took one last look at the photo of her mom and her brother before handing her phone over to her. 

-

It had taken you longer than it should have to figure out where Nile was. You’d found out that according to her phone, they were in the south of Paris. You took yourself there only to be guided to an abandoned church. Planes flying over your head. As you entered, it was dark. It looked like there had been a fight. There was blood on the chairs, and the floor. A wall had exploded. But Nile was nowhere to be seen. Had she been here perhaps?

 You walked further into the room. There was a small kitchen. had someone been living here? 

You walked up the steps and into another room, beds were lying next to each other. Clothes are still on the floors. Had someone been in a rush to leave? You picked up one of the shirts lying on one of the beds, it was dirty. It looked like it had been a woman’s shirt. You couldn’t resist the urge of smelling it, knowing it would perhaps smell like mould. Surprisingly, it didn’t. the smell was familiar to you like you’d met someone before who had the same fragrance. Then it hit you. Like a slap in the face. The smell reminded you of Andromache. Although, that wasn’t possible, was it? 

 When you updated the tracker that was supposed to lead you to Nile you saw it had completely changed location. It was now in London. You cursed yourself for not updating it sooner. You went here for nothing. You dropped the shirt and made your back out of the church. Took a taxi to the airport and tried to figure out where in London they were. But then the tracker disappeared. As if she’d turned off her phone. What were you going to do now?!

-

You were going to kill Nile when you found her. It had been weeks, if not months since the tracker died down on her phone. You had eventually gone to London only to be left dumbfounded. What were you supposed to do here? Then a few days ago the tracker suddenly showed again. This time in Italy, Rome. You arrived here yesterday. Booked in some shitty hotel that wasn’t even worth it. What were you going to say to Nile if you found her? You had to warn her about what she’d become, even if she perhaps just wanted to disappear. 

 With your phone in hand, you walked the small streets of the city, following the tracker. If you were to trust it this time, she was close by. You walked out to an open space with lots of people. Tourists mingled with the people living in the city. You let out a sigh and opened your water bottle and drank from it when something caught your eye. Or rather someone. It was a black woman, wearing what looked like a casual suit and white trainers. Her braided hair was short. And when she turned around, your thoughts were corrected. With fast steps, you marched up to the familiar woman, who now had her back turned to you. 

 “Nile Freeman!” You shouted. 

 She turned around. Shock appeared in her eyes as she saws who called her name. 

 “Y/N?” She asked, not quite believing she’d see you again. 

 You stopped in front of her, being around the same height as her. You weren’t angry, you were more hurt. But then again, you had no reason to be hurt. She had no idea you were like her. Or rather, that she was like you. 

 “What are you doing here? How did you find me?” Nile asked, looking around. 

 “Your phone, Nile. I tracked your phone.” You said, rather unimpressed. 

 “Oh, I didn’t know you could do that.” 

“Nile, stop trying to push the subject away. I’m rather exhausted from chasing your arse and we need to talk.”

 Nile looked around again. As if she was looking for someone. 

 “Is everything alright, Nile?” You asked softly, seeing the anxious look on her face. You reached up and gripped her forearm, giving it a soft squeeze. Trying to locate what she was looking for. 

 “Yeah, yeah. Everything is fine Y/N.” She spoke. Her tone was higher than usual. 

 “You sure? You want some water?” You asked, holding up your water bottle. Nile shook her head. Her eyes were stuck somewhere else. “Uh, I have to go now. It was nice seeing you again.”

 With that, she left you. She ran over to two men, who were looking back at you. Both look like big question marks. A woman joined the group. You couldn’t see her face, but she was taller than Nile. She was wearing a grey suit with black booted heels. Her haircut was a mullet. A brown suitcase in hand. You had so many questions as to why Nile was with these people, but the lack of sleep and screaming children on airplanes didn’t help with it. 

 You started walking after them, and then after a short period, you shouted her name again. Causing the whole group to turn around. The woman was wearing big black sunglasses, but you could recognise her anywhere. Even if she covered her eyes. It almost felt too good to be true. As if you were dreaming. Well, if you were you didn’t want to wake up from it. The woman dropped the suitcase. Both of you stood still. She seemed immune to the words asked by the people with her. Suddenly, she started walking towards you. You couldn’t move. You felt as if your feet were glued to the ground as the woman made her way toward you. 

 You hadn’t realised she was so close until you felt her arms around you. A quiet sob escaped your lips as you hugged her back with everything you had in you. “Andromache.” It was a weak whimper. Her hand made its way to the back of your head, holding you even closer to herself. It had to be a dream. It couldn’t be real, not after 500 years apart. 

You pulled apart, only for you to remove her sunglasses. You looked into those eyes you’d missed. Longed for. Her eyes were as red as yours. You leaned your forehead against hers as she cupped both of your cheeks. Andromache said something in what you knew was an ancient language. You knew what it meant and let out a tear chuckle and hugged her again. 

-

Nile took a sip of her drink as she, Nicky, and Joe watched the two of you in the corner. You were sitting in Andy’s lap, a big smile on your face. Andy’s arms around you. She’d never seen Andy smile so much during the time she had known her. It was rather strange but comforting at the same time. 

 “Well, I’d be damned.” She spoke.

 Joe let out a soft chuckle as he took a sip of his drink. Once the two of you had calmed down, you’d come along to the safe house they were staying in. Andy wouldn’t have it any other way. They weren’t complaining. Neither of them had seen Andy like this. Later in the evening, both Andy and Y/N got up from the armchair and left the room. Both Nicky and Joe shared a look. A small grin grew on both their lips. 

-

“You will be sleeping next to me.” 

 “Oh, what a tragedy.” You teased, turning around to face her. Andy shared a teasing smile before she pushed at your shoulder. “You’ve missed it.” Andy rolled her eyes at you before pulling you into another hug. She took a deep breath, your fragrance filling her nostrils. Oh, how she’d missed you. It finally felt right again. She felt right. You leaned your forehead against hers, looking into her eyes. 

 “I love you.”

 Andy smiled softly at you, leaning over to kiss your cheek. The movement caused a faint blush to creep up your neck. from that moment, something changed in the air. You knew Andromache felt it too. Something in her eyes changed. They darkened. Sooner or later, you felt her lips on yours. It was a strange feeling. Something you hadn’t exactly thought of. Your love for her was so great it reached beyond those thoughts. It didn’t stop you from kissing her back. It didn’t stop you from laying with her. Touching her. Letting her touch, you. Her name fell on your lips throughout the darkness of the room. Sweat and pleasure mixed in the air as both your breaths became ragged. She was all you wished for. 

 It was you and her. Until the end. 

#andromache of scythia x reader #the old guard #andy x reader #ask

[whalyrae]

THE OLD GUARD - CHAPTER 3

"We don’t get a say on how it ends, we never have. But we can control how we live."

Summary : You are a powerful witch, cursed and hurt through ages. Owner of your esoteric shop, you were resigned to live this lonely life when the powerful magic of soulmates and fate came to you.

Pairing : poly BTS x reader (she/her)

Genre : soulmate au, demons bts au, witch y/n au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, polyamory relationships

Status : In process

Word Count : 4.5K

Warnings : eventual smut, angst, mention of depression, death, suicide, past trauma, violence, blood, past (sexual) abuse, past torture, PTSD, scars, self harm, and more.

Tag list : @blackrockshooter780 @babyymeme @starrlo0ver @suckerforv @mushroom-main @m1sss1mp @prettydancingdamzel @i-have-no-life-charlie @avadakadabra93 @veronawrites @kawaiikpoplover268 @didi-9310 @ghostlyworld @carolinexkpop @gooooomz @00ihatesnaku

A/N : HEY YO I'M BACK !! Okay, I'm really sorry it took so long to publish the chapter... my exams, and after that I took a long rest because I travel in Spain and then in Paris during a whole month ! So as an apologize, this chapter is hella long I think it's the longest I've ever wrote in my life jfdkljgfk... I hope you'll like it !

Feel free to comment or send me a message (anonymously or not!) and give me your reactions, your impressions, your questions… I don't mind at all, on the contrary!

In the next chapters, there will be revelations, and answers to questions hehe so please don't hate me too much…!

A BIG THANK YOU again for all these views, I thought that by being absent for so long, my writings would be forgotten … but not at all!

Enjoy your reading, and thanks again, take care, I love you ♥

OH BY THE WAY !! I made a spotify playlist ! If you have any songs who made you think about the story, you can share it to me and I'll add it on the playlist !

Here is the link : The Old Guard Playlist

ps : sorry for the mistakes, it's already 1am here, but I really REALLY need to post something..... ENJOY :D

Masterlist | ao3 | wattpad

Chapter 2 // Chapter 4

☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ ☾ 

“I did it! I beat Ganon! Did you see, Jimin ?”

Jungkook put down his controller next to him on the couch, raising his arms with a big smile. Beside him, Jimin didn't seem to pay attention to him. His eyes focused on his cell phone. 

Jungkook frowned, and turned to Taehyung, sitting on his right. 

"Taehyung, Taehyung! Look!!!"

But he noticed that Taehyung also seemed lost in thought and was not paying any attention to him. 

Jungkook puffed out his cheeks, a pout on his face. 

"Hyungs! What's going on?”

“Do you know where Yoongi is? " 

Taehyung's question surprised Jungkook. He arched an eyebrow and thought for a few seconds. 

He knew that Namjoon and Hoseok had gone to the public library for some research, but he couldn't remember which. Jin had gone to the grocery store. 

And Yoongi... well, he didn't remember seeing him or even remembering him leaving the apartment. 

"He's been missing for a while, he doesn't answer when I try to call him..." Jimin sighed as he threw his phone down next to him. 

They remained silent for a few seconds, while the game on the television continued to play its cinematic. 

Jungkook turned his head and noticed that the window was slightly open. He pointed at it with his chin to his partners. 

The three demons then glanced at each other. They figured it out. They knew where Yoongi had gone.  

"You think he went..." began Jungkook. 

"I wouldn't even be surprised, he was very quiet yesterday after Namjoon’s explanations." Jimin continued.

And they all knew that at those times, it meant that Yoongi had something on his mind. And when he did, he became the most stubborn person alive. Nothing and no one could make him change his mind. 

"That guy... Ah, when he gets home, he'll hear me." Taehyung sighed and ran a hand through his hair. 

Jungkook jumped to his feet. 

"Are you going to wait quietly for him to come back?" He asked, crossing his arms before straightening up from the couch. "Because I'm not. We've been waiting for this moment for way too long." 

°°°

Yoongi was… well she couldn’t describe him. His voice was sweet, his little vibrato always made her body shiver a little. Besides, he was so kind, so gentle, she had never seen so much tenderness in a gaze that was destined to her. 

Well, of course, there was Jin. But that was so, so long ago. 

She bit her lower lip nervously. Thinking about him made her heart ache. She was close to him like she never was since the two of them were separated, yet so far at the same time. She still hadn't thought about how she would manage it. She'd never figured out how to get his memory back, and she’d never found him at all to try anything though. 

At first, she had planned to spend the afternoon with her books, researching curses, spells, or some kind of memory-related magic. She wanted to have some sort of plan before she tried any approach with her soulmates. 

But it seems that one of them decided otherwise. 

Yoongi never took his eyes off her. She seemed to be lost in her thoughts for some reason, probably his visit disturbed her. 

He couldn't read her mind, she was probably powerful enough to block her mind to telepaths, as he and his demon boyfriends were. His admiration for her only grew stronger and stronger. 

He wanted to know what was happening in her head, what seemed to be troubling her. 

From the moment he saw her through her shop window in his cat form, busy watering her plants when he saw the lines on her face when he realized he was standing in front of his last soulmate, the world stopped in front of him for a moment. 

Just as he felt when he met Namjoon, Jin, Hoseok, Jungkook, Jimin, and Taehyung. That feeling of being face to face with someone he'd known all his life, even though he'd never spoken to them, someone who completed him, who finally made him feel whole and fulfilled. 

A soul mate, pure and simple. 

She felt the same way. Like the day before with Namjoon, and when she was with Jin before they separated. However, she wasn't used to experiencing... so many positive feelings and emotions like that.  

She'd also thought that Namjoon would never talk about her or want to see her again. 

Apparently, she was wrong. 

She fidgeted nervously with her fingers, keeping a certain distance between them. She wanted to ask Yoongi where the others lived, to meet them, and finally see Jin again after all these years.

But the problem was that Jin didn't remember her. And when Namjoon, Yoongi, and the others hear about what happened, they probably wouldn't want anything more to do with her. And that was what she was afraid of. 

The pain of losing a soul mate is a sharp pain, like having her heart ripped out, without any anesthetic, raw. 

She met people who had been rejected by their soulmates, or who had experienced the death of their soulmates. They were a shadow of their former selves, and remained so for the rest of their lives, until their last breath. Most of the time, they ended up taking their own lives, the latter being a gentler and more bearable solution than living without one or both halves. 

She'd been through it once, with Seokjin. If she hadn't been immortal, she wouldn't have survived it. 

"I don't know what's been going through your head, or what you've been going through all these years alone," Yoongi began, taking a step towards her, "but it's all over now. I mean, you're not alone anymore, not now that we've found you. You should have seen Namjoon when he came home yesterday, I haven't seen him this excited since we met Jungkook decades ago." He let out a chuckle. 

She looked up at him, he was close to her, very close. 

If he knew, he wouldn't say that. Even though she couldn't deny that those words warmed her whole being without really controlling it. So, Namjoon was happy to meet her? Were they all? 

"You really thought Namjoon wouldn't tell us about you and we wouldn't want you?" He asked, tilting his head to one side. 

"Honestly, yes." she admitted with a shrug, smiling shyly, "I'm... old, very old, I spent several centuries alone, never finding my soulmates so... I always told myself that they weren't looking for me, or simply didn't want me."

And the only one I ever knew, I lost him, she thought.

"Oh, sweetheart," he murmured, his deep, soft voice making her shiver, "I'm sorry it took me so long to find you, we all are, believe me."

He raised his hand, without hesitation, to place it gently on her cheek. Normally, she wasn’t the most comfortable with physical touch, but strangely, she hadn't flinched, she hadn't moved. The warmth of Yoongi's hand against her skin felt good and soothing in a way she couldn't describe a comfort she hadn't felt... for ages. 

She surprised herself leaning slightly against it, even closing her eyes when he started to rub softly her cheek with his thumb. 

She opened her lips to reply but heard something behind Yoongi that made her take a step back. She heard the bell of her shop signifying that someone was entering.

"I knew it!" she heard a deep voice approach them, "I knew you wouldn't listen to Namjoon hyung!"

She tilted her head as Yoongi turned his, not disturbed by the interruption. She was surprised to find herself facing three new people. She didn't need to ask who they were, nor she didn't need to ask Yoongi who these three beautiful and handsome men standing in front of her were. 

When her eyes met those of the smallest of the three, while the other two were talking to Yoongi, she didn't even know about what because she wasn't paying any attention. Her gaze was completely absorbed by this pink-haired person standing a few meters away from her. She was feeling for the second time today what she had felt earlier with Yoongi.

These three people were part of their bond. They were their soulmates too. 

One of the other two noticed the smaller boy's attitude and turned toward him. 

"Jimin, are you..." he began, turning his head to follow his gaze, "Okay..."

His voice trailed off when he saw her.

She didn't know what to say or do, she could feel four pairs of eyes on her now. 

She noticed a smile tugging at the corner of Yoongi's lips and she bites her own nervously. 

He knew that the maknaes would notice his absence, and would quickly realize where he was and, most importantly, that they would come to her. 

"Are you..." the smaller one, Jimin, whispered in a trembling voice, taking a step towards her. 

"Yes... Yes, I am." she replied, looking away, "It's a pleasure to meet y-ah...!"

She hadn't had time to finish her sentence when she felt a pair of arms around her waist and a body pressing against hers. She looked down, surprised to see a pink ball, slightly trembling. 

"We've been waiting for you for so long..." he murmured shakily. 

She felt her head spin slightly under all these new sensations, not so new, but ones she hadn't felt for ages. It was as if she was rediscovering them.

She didn't know how to react and didn't have time to think about it when she felt two new pairs of arms around her waist. 

"Jimin, don't monopolize her yet!" a young man with blue hair sulked, "Ah, I can't tell you how happy I am to finally meet you... Can I call you Noona?"

She didn't know what to say and didn't have time to think about it either.

"Noona," the tallest of the three murmured as he hugged her a little tighter, "I can't believe I can finally hold you... You’re real...!"

She was surprised to see Jimin sobbing quietly in her arms. She looked up, utterly confused, and searched for Yoongi, who was standing not far from her, his hand resting on Jimin's back, stroking him affectionately as he looked at her. He gave her a gentle smile and shrugged. 

"They are our maknaes, Jimin," he pointed to the pink-haired one, "Taehyung," he pointed to the blue-haired one, "and Jugkook, the youngest." He finished by pointing to the last one, who was looking at her with shining eyes.

“Noona, you’re so gorgeous,” Jungkook said, making her blush furiously. 

“Kook’… you're making her uncomfortable," Yoongi grumbled as he brought his hand up to stroke Jimin's hair. 

"I'm not... thank you..." she smiled as she saw Jungkook's face light up, then looked down at Jimin, "Is he all right?" she asked, worried to see him in such a state. 

"Don't worry about him," Taehyung caught her eye and gave her a big smile, "he's very sensitive and just happy to finally find you."

"And we've been waiting for you... "Jungkook continued before letting out a shy little laugh, "Ah, you must have heard it lots of times since yesterday but... It's true... we've been looking for you for years, without success..."

"We've all always had that hole in our hearts..." Jimin spoke again, raising his head, his eyes bright and slightly red, "It was painful sometimes when all that was missing for us was you, I don't even want to imagine how you must have felt without any of us..."

She didn't even notice that tears had started to fall as they spoke. She wasn't the kind of person who cried easily, far from it. But in less than two days, this was already the second time it had happened.

She didn't know why she was so moved by their words, perhaps because they were the people she'd been looking for all her long life, never finding, thinking they didn't want her, which turned out to be wrong. 

She could feel the deep empathy in their words because they'd been through the same thing as her - less so because they were all together - she felt understood by the people who were meant for her, and that feeling was indescribable. 

Noticing her tears, the three maknaes backed away slightly but stayed close to her. 

"Noona I... we're sorry if we said something hurtful..." murmured Jimin nervously. 

"No, I'm the one who's sorry," she replied, shaking her head, "I'm just... I don't know, it all seems so unrealistic..."

And it still was. Knowing that she found her soulmates, that Jin was only a few miles away... After all those years of loneliness, of feeling guilty, of secretly envying the people who crossed her path, happy with their soul mates...

She thought back to Minji's words, yesterday’s evening in their apartment...

« You deserve it more than anyone else. You spent your whole life helping anyone who asks for help, sacrificing your life more than once - literally - for the helping and saving. You deserve to be happy, with those who are destined for you. »

The thought of those words made her tears double. Because after all these years, centuries even, in darkness, the light was finally coming to her, the hope of a more bearable and less lonely eternity was growing inside her.  

“Hey, sweetheart, please don’t cry,” Yoongi’s sweet voice brought her out of her thoughts, “You’re prettier when you smile.” 

She blinked several times and looked at each of the people around her. 

There they were, her soul mates. 

“Ah, I think Namjoon hyung and Hoseok hyung are back home," suddenly muttered Taehyung, who had his phone in his hand, "They want to know where we are..."

"I think we're in a bit of a mess..." chuckled Jungkook, resting his cheek against her shoulder. "Oh, you don't know Hobi hyung yet!"

"Same for Jin, I think we're going to have a bad time when we get home... they're going to be even more jealous!" added Jimin with a small smile.

Her eyes had widened when he'd mentioned Jin's name. He was with them. There was no doubt about it now. The confirmation twisted her stomach slightly with anticipation and excitement. 

Jin was alive. He was in the same town as her after... over five hundred years apart. She didn't know how to deal with it all, again, it all seemed so unrealistic. She felt like she was in a dream, that she'd wake up sooner or later, and that everything she was experiencing now was an illusion. 

If this was indeed a dream, she hoped she'd never wake up.

"I have an idea! Why don't you come with us?"

She lowered her head at Jimin's question. This was something she hadn't expected. 

"So you can meet them too and see Namjoon again! Good idea, Minnie!" Taehyung came and hugged his partner, kissing his cheek affectionately. 

Jimin giggled in Taehyung's arms, making her smile. But the idea of finding herself in the same room as not just one, but all her soul mates. Seeing Jin again, without the certainty that he'd regained his memory... If they found out the truth, what had happened, she'd lose them for sure.

Selfishly, she didn't want that to happen. She wanted to see Jin again, of course. It was all she could think about, constantly, ever since they both split up. But the risk was too big now. She wanted to come to him with a plan, a way of getting his memory back if he hadn't. She owed him that.

"I know we're all more than happy to find her finally," Yoongi began, "but our beautiful soulmate can't just walk away from her business, can she?"

"But Yoongi hyung... I don't want to leave her..." pouted Jungkook, rubbing his cheek against her shoulder.

"I know Kookie, me neither," Yoongi sighed softly, understanding with Jungkook because he too didn't want to part with her, "but I think she needs some time to herself, to get over her emotions, am I right?"

He looked at her, his lips stretching slightly into a thin smile. She could see in his eyes that he wasn't reproaching her and that he was also prepared to stay if she asked him to. Every one of them was ready to go and get the moon for her if she asked them to.

"I understand... it must have been a lot of emotions for you..." Taehyung sighed sadly as he pulled away from Jimin, "So can we give you our phone number? And we'll give you our address too!"

"Good idea!" Jimin exclaimed and snapped his fingers to summon a piece of paper and a pen, " So you can come and see us whenever you like! Usually, there's always someone at home, but if there isn't, we'll give you the code, and you can just make yourself at home and wait for us!"

"Deal," she replied as Jimin wrote their numbers and addresses on the sheet of paper, "and you, feel free to come here, whenever you like, my apartment's upstairs, but I suppose you already know that..."

"What was I saying, she's extremely intelligent, our soulmate, as well as being beautiful," Yoongi smirked, making her blush.

"Aaah, I don't want to leave you, Noona..." Jungkook whined, grabbing her arm, "You smell so good too..."

YoShe u held back a smile, feeling a slight pinch in her heart.

She didn't want them to leave either.

°°°

“You did what ?!”

Sitting on the sofa, Yoongi chuckled as the three maknae shrugged their shoulders at Hoseok, Seokjin, and Namjoon. Namjoon had his arms crossed against his chest, his eyebrows furrowed, while his two companions beside him looked desperate but amused at the same time. 

"You're incapable of listening to a tiny indication, are you..." Namjoon blurted out accusingly, "I hope you haven't scared her..."

"Knowing these three," began Hoseok, addressing the maknae, "they would have been able to jump on her..."

Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook glanced at each other. Without needing to reply, Jin's eyes widened. 

"You jumped on her..." It wasn't a question, but a statement. 

"I... I wouldn't go to the extreme of using the word jump Jin hyung..." defended Jungkook with a pout, "and then... it was Jimin who clung to her first and cried like a baby !"

The said Jimin turned to his boyfriend, outraged and betrayed. 

"At least I didn't make her feel uncomfortable by showering her with compliments! "Oh noona, you're so beautiful, you're so intelligent noona!" cried Jimin, pointing his finger at Jungkook, who was frowning, and Yoongi, who wasn't paying any attention to the conversation.

Hoseok and Jin couldn't help laughing as they watched their younger partners bickering, while Namjoon rolled his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. He should have known that his partners wouldn't listen to him and would go and find her the second his back was turned. He wasn't that angry with them, he understood them. From the second they'd said goodbye the day before, all he could think about was seeing her again. Yoongi was the most stubborn and obstinate of them all, and if the maknaes were by nature very impatient, he was even more so. 

He couldn't blame them, she was their soul mate just as she was his. And even if a reason they didn't know existed had darkened her heart and saddened her soul, she could not want to have something to do with them. She just couldn't. 

His four companions had only listened to their hearts.

"Did it at least go well?" finally asked Hoseok, who had settled on the floor, facing the maknaes, "how is she?"

"She's incredible hyung!" exclaimed Taehyung, "She's beautiful and her voice is so sweet..."

"Aaah, I miss her," Jimin added as he dropped onto Taehyung, "we shouldn't have left..." 

Hoseok chuckled and turned to Jin. 

"That means we're the last ones who didn't meet her, ah, that's not fair... Jin, are you all right?"

They all turned to the older man who had sat on the edge of the large sofa. He was staring into space, his face disfigured by pain. 

Yoongi was the first to react and got up to approach his elder. 

"Hyung, is it the same as yesterday?"

Jin took his head in his hands, nodding. He didn't understand why these violent migraines were suddenly coming to him, and more importantly, why he was now having these flashes and memories that weren't his own. 

Or were they? He had no memory of living in a human village with a hill and a big oak tree. And who was this person he was with? He couldn't see their face correctly, it was blurred, like everything that had happened since yesterday. 

"What's wrong with him, Yoongi?" asked Namjoon, concerned. 

"He's never been like this..." Jungkook sat down next to him, also worried.  

Yoongi told them about yesterday's episode in the kitchen, which made Jin wince, not wanting to bother them with it. 

"It's nothing," Jin muttered after a few seconds massaging his temples, "It's just tiredness I guess."

He wouldn't talk about the memories flooding his mind. He didn't want to worry them anymore. He'd look for the answers himself. 

"Hyung you've been very tired before, you've never had this kind of response..." replied Jimin who had gone into the kitchen to get him a glass of water. 

"He's right, maybe it's a problem with your powers? Or... argh, I don't know." Taehyung grumbled in frustration. 

"It'll be fine," Jin reassured him with a small smile, "I'll get some rest, and everything will be better tomorrow. But I will remember that you met our soulmate and Hobi and I are the only ones who don't know her."

He chuckled when he saw the innocent looks on the maknae’s faces and ruffled Yoongi's hair to reassure him. 

"If it happens again, you won't be able to escape," Yoongi replied simply, rising to his feet. 

He said nothing, but when his gaze met Namjoon's, the two demons understood each other. Jin's condition coincided strangely with the meeting of their last soulmate.

Pure coïncidence? Or was there a link between her and Jin's condition?

°°°

Every day there was an outdoor market in Seoul. She used to go there regularly to find various types of plants for her potions, spells, and other magical preparations. But also, fruit and vegetables for her personal use.

This time, Handong has decided to come with her. She closed her shop for the morning and set off in the early hours. 

She looked up at the sky and spotted the moon, gradually disappearing to make way for the sun. The full moon was for tonight. 

She knew that the moon was a very powerful force for witches. It was also that moment when she recharged her crystals and prepared her moon water for the month. 

But above all, the full moon influenced her powers. It was the best time to cast powerful spells and make sure they worked. It was therefore the perfect opportunity to find any spell that would help Jin recover his memory. 

The day before, after Yoongi, Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin had left, and after spending a good hour recovering from her emotions, she went back to combing through every magic book and grimoire she owned, whether in the bookshop or her personal library.

She hadn't found anything very conclusive. All the chapters on memory magic had one thing in common: the spells, their effects, and their duration always depended on who was casting them and who was being affected by them. 

The spell cast on Jin could have disappeared, just as it could still be present. She could only know this by seeing him and talking to him. But even that was a tricky thing to do. 

"Is everything all right, sweetie?" Handong asked in a soft voice, after noticing that she’d been quiet for a while now. 

"Hm?" she turned her head towards her, before smiling and nodding, "Yes, of course! sorry I... I was thinking about my research last night."

"Don't apologize," Handong smiled at her, "It's perfectly understandable. Don't hesitate if you need advice, I'm not a specialist, but I'll gladly give you my opinion."

She nodded again and explained what she’d found. Her different ideas, but they all came down to a single point. She had to see Jin to find out about his condition and memory. And that was where she was stuck. 

During her explanations and conversation, she had arrived at the market, and without stopping to talk, she looked at the different stalls, buying some fruit and vegetables from old ladies. 

In the distance, she notices a stall selling papaya. She hadn't seen or eaten papaya for a long time. It was also Jin's favorite fruit. 

Handong was busy with a merchant, so she waved back and headed towards the stall. She greeted the old woman manning the stall and looked carefully at the fruit on display. 

As she reached out to take one, she saw an arm in her field of vision landing on the same papaya as her. Surprised, she turned her head mechanically to see who it was, before freezing, her eyes wide. 

No, it couldn't be true. 

She had to be hallucinating, it couldn't... be him. 

And yet she could recognize that face, those features above all others.

Jin. 

Kim Seokjin was standing in front of her. 

°°°

"By the way hyung, why were you and Joonie at the library yesterday?" 

Jimin was currently sitting on a stool, watching Hoseok who was busy preparing lunch while Jin was away. 

"Namjoon wanted to research our soulmate," he explained as he chopped some onions, "At first I didn't understand why honestly, but you know, over time, you and I know very well that Namjoon's instincts are never wrong."

"Does that mean you've found something?" exclaimed Jimin, suddenly straightening up. 

Hoseok nodded, now working on dicing the vegetables. What they had found in the library... he could still hardly believe it. 

Should he tell Jimin? Or should he wait until they are all together to share the results of their research? 

He didn't have time to think about it any longer. He heard a loud knock, startling Jimin. It wasn't long before Yoongi and Jungkook emerged from their room, also startled. 

"What's going on here?" Asked the older one, "I don't suppose we were expecting company?"

"Maybe it's Jin who's back and his arms are too full to open the door!" Jungkook added, tilting his head to one side. I'll get the door!"

He trotted to the door, dressed in a long sweatshirt belonging to Namjoon, who was still asleep in the room, just like Taehyung. 

He opened the door with a big smile on his face. 

"Hi! What took you so long Jin hyun..."

He didn't finish his sentence. His voice faded as he saw what was standing in front of him. At his silence, Yoongi and Jimin joined him, themselves freezing in front of what was in front of them. 

Y/n was standing in front of them, totally panicked, out of breath, and sweating. 

But she wasn’t alone. 

"Help me... please..." she begged, her voice breaking. They could see she was holding back tears. 

She was supporting Jin, his arm wrapped around her shoulders. A completely unconscious Jin. 

#aly's writing #the old guard #tog #whalyrae #bts #bts au #bts soulmate #bts soulmate au #bts polyamory #bts poly #bts poly!au #bts poly! #bts poly au #bts x reader #poly!bts x reader #best friends dreamcatcher #demon bts #demons bangtan #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts ff #bts x yn

[fabricated-misslieness]

pairing: corinthian x male reader

req: no | wc: 1350 | old guard x the sandman

summary: "Did you just stab me?"

warnings: stabbing, blood, knives, swearing, smoking

a/n: I only had the beginning in thought, bullshited my way through. Was it meant to be a serious fic in the first place? From the first line, definitely not. Didn't think about where this was going, so ending it somewhere pretty stable. Fun to write, anyway.

1917

"Did you–did you just stab me?"

Corinthian was mortified.

"Seriously—I'm just minding my own business."

To the nightmare's utter horror, you pull the knife out from your chest and bring it in his direction with much vigor.

Corinthian catches your wrist in his hold before you can stab him, but it doesn't seem like that was your intention. Instead, you press the blade flat against his chest, no doubt staining his white shirt. If not death, it's what he deserved, honestly.

"I–"

Then, his eyebrows raise impossibly higher. The wound on your chest begins to heal, going through about a month's healing within the minute. No treatment, no magical oil, and certainly no (at the very, very least) prayer to God.

You mutter something in what he can only discern to be a language derived from Latin. "You're what? Sorry?" You scoff, "Sorry's not gonna cut it. We don't even know each other."

Was he dreaming? Nightmares didn't dream, they didn't even sleep. He wasn't even in the Dreaming.

"Well–"

"What are you gonna say? "Well, it was an accident."? You're telling me you knew someone, thought they were me, and wanted to stab them?"

When Corinthian was in trouble, he resorted to killing. It was in his nature. But first, when he dealt with something, he used his charms. It had never been the other way around; then again, there was always a first time for everything. Killing always came second when it came to pleasure, anyway.

"Let me talk, darling." Your eyebrows furrow and you're speechless at his audacity. "Let me explain myself."

"You–"

He cuts you off this time. "There's an explanation. I can assure you." He was lying through his teeth. He sticks his, still bloody, knife back in its holster and only allows a mental grimace. "Really, I can."

"So far it's only been bark, no talk." You point your finger at him. He raises his hands in surrender.

He racks his brain, and yet there was no plausible bluff to answer. You were an immortal, clearly, he couldn't kill you and flee. So, he takes off his glasses. "This is a way of… courting, where I'm from."

You raise a brow and say, tentatively, "Courting…"

"Yes." He says proudly.

"You're not gonna kiss me with your… eyes, are you?"

"No, no." He laughs genuinely at the suggestion. He's never tried—he has, actually. "We need at least a year for that."

"If whatever realm you come from–after a thousand years, anything's possible–really does court by… murder, then…" You run a hand through your hair with a huff, "you have to realize you're in the human realm. They're not immortal, and certainly not keen on being stabbed."

"Well, I found you." He offers with a grin.

"I'm not keen on being stabbed." You laugh, anyway. "But you did find an immortal."

This was fucking working. Corinthian's grin spreads wider, despite the uncomfortable feeling of the blood seeping through his white shirt and the disgust of not having cleaned his knife.

And, if pleasure came in after all, he didn't quite mind.

1945

For immortals, life was fleeting.

You had lost everything only after the first half a century. Your parents, your siblings, they were all gone; your childhood home refurbished for another family. And then, when all things "homely" weren't enough, your "home" empire fell.

And mortals. You always did love them, and many times, you had forgotten they weren't like you. For as long as you've lived, your heart's been broken over and over, whether metaphorically or physically.

People died early, people aged. When they did, and you didn't, they begged for a piece of your life. The first couple of times, you wished you could. You prayed to whatever God granted you the power of immortality to give it up entirely to age with them or to even give them a piece of it. After a several centuries, you accepted that the God(s) would never reply; and as the greed of humanity grew, you resorted to leaving before death could visit.

When the big things in life didn't stick around, the smaller things were even worse.

Your favorite pub disappeared after half a century. Your favorite food stand, and Andy's favorite Baklava, tried its hardest to last for a full century. The pets never lasted long, your favorite book was banned somehow, and old things were replaced by the year.

Nothing ever really stuck around.

Then again, you never really stuck around either.

Andy, Nicky, Joe, and Booker led quite the nomadic lifestyle. The Old Guard went where they were called. The only place you could call home anymore was the Church in Goussainville.

And, well, them. They were your home.

But, sometimes, they were like siblings. Siblings often separated as they came of age, but not you guys. For almost as long as Andromache has lived, you have known her; for a thousand years, you have known Nicky and Joe; and, for the last hundred, you have known Booker. Each bleeding moment of each fighting day, you spent it with them.

You can't blame yourself when you want a break from it all; when you want a break from the gunfights and constant death and revival, or when you want a break from your immortal friends.

It was a cold fall evening. You were tired. A month prior, you had brough a war to its end. You deserved a break.

The breath from your lungs comes out white, cold and visible. That didn't matter anyway when the breath from your cigarette comes out visible too. (Being immortal had its perks, and not "dying of cigarette" was one)

"(y/n)."

You sigh and flick the ash from your cigarette. Then, you turn, leaning your back against the railing. "Do I know you?"

You just wanted a bit of peace, serenity, and solidarity.

Maybe you should've taken note of the English, or the deep voice, or the familiar glasses.

Corinthian raises his arms to each side and tilts his head forward, towards you. His blazer opens slightly as he does, revealing his knife holsters.

"Corinthian?" You grin ecstatically, flicking the last of your cigarette away without a care in the world. "You're alive!"

"Of course I am, I'm immortal."

You huff, "You didn't think it would've been nice to mention that twenty-seven years ago?"

Before you can make your way towards him, Corinthian steps forward himself. He traps you between himself and the wooden railing. "When? After you left me?"

"Okay, okay, I'm sorry for that." You raise your hands in surrender, but Corinthian groans at that, so you place them back around him. "But, you know, lovers always beg for a piece of immortality. I can't grant them that."

I know people who can, Corinthian thinks. "We both have things to apologize for. You, your disappearance; me, my secret."

You chuckle, "Then let's leave it at that."

Corinthian brings you in for a kiss, using one of his hands to cup your cheek and bring you forward. You don't protest at the force he uses, for Corinthian was always a passionate lover.

"You know, you never really apologized for stabbing me."

"I didn't feel the need to. You know, tradition." You raise a brow at him. "Alright, yeah, I am from another realm, but murder is not a courting strategy." His eyebrows furrow as he thinks about your previous relationship. If you were questioning it now, why not then? "Did you know that back then?"

"Andy smacked the sense into me." You laugh, "If Gods can't grant me the wish of living out a life to its end after all my begging, then Gods don't exist. Similarly, other realms don't exist."

Corinthian tilts his head to the side, not a bad reason. There was still a major flaw, though. "But men with teeth for eyes do?"

"I didn't tell her that part."

After the end of the war a month ago, you thought to rest. Maybe you wouldn't be doing much of that.

"Hey, is that fire I smell?"

#corinthian x reader #corinthian x male reader #the sandman x reader #the sandman x male reader #the old guard fanfic #the sandman fanfic #🌸 // success! #💞 // darlings #🎟 // the sandman #🎟 // the old guard #🎫 // corinthian #🎫 // the corinthian #🤬// swearshirt