#「 RED ;; ˢʰᵃʳᵖ ˢᵘⁱᵗˢ ˢʰᵃʳᵖᵉʳ ᵏⁿⁱᵛᵉˢ. 」

[sankcfa-a]

     The spy sobered quickly as soon as the trio settled in their booth. Looking down at his wine, he swirled the liquid in the glass before taking a sip. His fingers twitched, a telltale sign that his hands would have been shaking if he didn’t have any more control of his body than he already did.

          ❝ Of course I do, what type of simpleton do you take me for ? ❞ A deep breath was taken, an attempt to calm his rattled nerves that failed quite spectacularly. Anger is not what he needed right now, not whilst near enough his entire career, && potentially his life, was on the line. And most definitely not whilst his teammate was offering him help before the Frenchman even considered asking ( as if he would ask for help, not even his pride would let him stoop so low). His eyes flickered to the television screen as well, keeping an eye on the goons.

          ❝ They will undoubtedly be armed. Expect guns and close range weapons. ❞ He took a deep breath, no longer inwardly denying just how rattled he had become in the space of an hour. ❝ They will be equipped to deal with me. You, on the other hand. ❞ He hummed thoughtfully, ❝ They will not know what to expect. ❞

@kukrikey​ cont.

[sankcfa-a]

     Careful ? Being exactly that was part of the Frenchman’s job description. It was only a small speck of dirt, likely splattered there during an altercation with the enemy team’s solider barely an hour before. Upon seeing the Sniper at the end of the match, the spy didn’t even hesitate to run a gloved finger to clean it with such care that many seemed to forget he possessed. 

          ❝ Hm, your face is still a lost cause, but it is cleaner than normal. ❞ Came the curt, albeit teasing, reply. If his eyes lingered for a second longer than usual on the scar, he would readily deny it. They all had scars of their own, some from prior to their employment, but  m a n y  more since becoming the mercenaries they were today. He flicked away the lingering dirt from his gloves, grumbling in disdain as it smeared it even more on the material.

@bushmannsrules​ cont.

[sankcfa-a]

@bushmannsrules​ said: [ nap ] + reverse (mick falling asleep on red spy?)

nonverbal -- && accepting. 

     It was never a rare sight to see the Spy smoking outside of the base. Granted, it was uncommon as he usually retreated to his smoking room at the end of matches, but today the stars were out && the night air was cool-- perfect outdoor smoking weather. What was a rare occurrence, was the Sniper accompanying him. The Frenchman had always preferred his own company, of course, but the Australian was always quiet in comparison to their other teammates. He wouldn’t point any fingers ( it was definitely the soldier && scout ), but some company was far better than the alternatives.

     Spy was quiet as he smoked, exhaling to the side out of courtesy to his teammate && he supposed he should have expected what came next. Sniper had gone quiet some time ago, staring off into the distance to the point that Spy hadn’t bothered starting conversation, He was raising his hand to take another drag from his cigarette when he suddenly felt a weight against his shoulder that was definitely not supposed to be there. Slowly, he turned his head to find none other than Sniper dozing away on his very expensive suit. For a moment, he debated awakening the man as violently && loudly as possible before he remembered the good work he had done during the match earlier. Begrudgingly, he accepted the new weight for now. But if the Sniper started drooling, he was going to wake up in Respawn. There were no witnesses to watch Spy as he carefully extracted his teammate’s hat from his head && placed it to the side && if there were-- who would believe them ? He also refused to think about the amount of trust it would have taken to fall asleep around him, of all people.

[sankcfa-a]

@isetheby​ said: [ eat ]  for your muse to offer mine food ((red spy?

nonverbal -- && accepting.

     It was a well-kept secret-- how bad Spy’s habits could get. He hardly meant to do it on purpose, forgetting a meal here && there, until eventually an entire day or two had passed. Sometimes his job meant just that little bit more to him than sustenance-- he knew his body’s limits ( or so he said to himself ). So, when he was offered food from the enemy team’s sniper, he couldn’t help but think his lack of food in the past few days had been considerably worrying. Not like he would tell the other mercenary that. 

          ❝ You expect me to eat that ? ❞ He scoffed instead, almost sounding insulted. His body would tell him when he was hungry-- he did not need a mother hen.

[sankcfa-a]

🍼 FOR SPY....YOU TOO......

🍼 -- && accepting. 

     Spy was not designed for love. A lie he had told himself for decades, to make things simpler-- easier. ( Lie. ) A loss of his first love && his child-- infidelity && selfishness drew them apart, further, even further still, like the waves at sea. After he lost her && lost him, he swore he would never love another, his heart would never recover. ( Lie. ). Then came Elias, a man who gave him purpose && a chance he did not deserve. His heart would never love another, not with his joy-- his life by his side.      ( Lie, lie, lie. ) Lies were his job, lies kept him distant. Lies made him seem less human. But with this bundle in his arms, disagreement collected in his mind. Loving another, loving a lover was familiar, something he had grown accustomed to. An unconditional love from a child was something else entirely-- something he had never experienced with his first, who to this day hated a man he had never even met && never even remembered. Unconditional love , loving a father for who he is, not who he has been or what he has done, is a foreign feeling-- a welcome one.      His hands were calloused, made-- no, designed for killing. But here ? Now ? These hands held his very beating heart in its grasp. A weak cry emanated from the silk made of the softest cotton, drawing his attention to it.

          ❝ Mon ciel étoilé... hush, now, I’m here. ❞ Always.

     Spy tried to ignore the unsettling feeling that began to form in the pit of his stomach, until it hit him, just what it was. Perfection. What he currently held-- what he currently stared at with softness in his own two eyes, was such a sheer perfection that he nearly couldn’t comprehend it. It was not only perfection, however, it was a love && an adoration that only a father could posses when staring at their child. 

               He would not fail this-- his child like he had failed his last.

-- @goldgliitters

[sankcfa-a]

@bushmannsrules​ said: (ooc; 🍯 for a food headcanon, send 💩 for a ridiculous headcanon, send 🍬 for a family headcanon for RED Spy! :>)

headcanons -- && accepting.

send 🍯 for a food headcanon

red doesn’t usually eat a lot. he’s not adverse to food, he just never really bothers eating until his body begins to demand it. if he doesn’t feel hungry, he doesn’t eat. simple as. this increases tenfold if he’s on an important mission or boring over files and notes, he finds that eating sometimes wastes time and avoids it for as long as he can. 

send 💩 for a ridiculous headcanon

as told in canon, each one of red’s suits are custom made and cost in excess of $10,000 each. but considering that’s just the suit, the accessories, like mask and gloves, clock the total up to around $15,000. if you then include his more expensive preferences for wine and cigarettes, he’s rocking probably around $20,000 in total costs. 

send 🍬 for a family headcanon 

deep down, red has almost always wanted a family of his own. a significant other that loved him as well as a few children. his dreams were quickly squashed once he entered the spy profession, reignited once he had jeremy, and then extinguished not long after.

[sankcfa-a]

‘Are you hiding from someone?’ @ RED Spy

icebreaker

     There was a somewhat forced scoff that left the Spy’s lips at the question, but the unease in his frame gave it away to his teammate. His eyes were constantly shifting to the door before then returning back to his drink in front of him, which had remained untouched for quite some time. 

          ❝ Non, of course not. ❞

      His reply was choppy, completely out of character && he cursed himself for it. He was supposed to be a spy for goodness sake, he was supposed to be able to hide his emotions better, not cringe away from confrontation like an anxiety ridden teenager. In the back of his mind, he supposed his reaction to his situation was normal. A small band of mercenaries, hired to take him down && bring him back to whomever had hired them, a simple job, really– it might as well have been successful if he hadn’t found solace in the bar in the nearby town to the base. Not only that, it had appeared the Sniper had found himself at the same place at the right wrong time. The Frenchman was hardly surprised that someone had hired others to bring him in, he was just struggling to remember which crime he had committed now– he might ask Miss Pauling for an alphabetized list one day, cross off whomever sends mercenaries next.

          ❝ Why would I be hiding from someone ? ❞

     He feigned confidence, trying to hide his worry behind the rim of his wine glass. The only reason to his anxiety that he could think of was not because there were mercenaries sent after him to most likely torture and kill him, but it was the fact that he had been found in the first place– he’d been… compromised.

[sankcfa-a]

‘Think fast.’ ((for RED Spy

icebreaker

     The red spy nearly scoffed as the words were uttered, almost insulted that the sniper had found the need to warn him of all things. he was a professional, not some bumbling buffoon. With the elegance && grace that was expected of his class, he maneuvered his body away from the kukri that was slashed in the area he had been standing previously.

         ❝ If you wish to kill me, bushman, perhaps warning me of your next move is not the best course of action. ❞

     Rather than leaving the man alone, the frenchman straightened his tie && brushed an imaginary speck of dust from his shoulder. Almost as if nearly getting hacked in half was a mere inconvenience. Given how often they died && respawned every day, spy supposed that’s exactly what it was.

[sankcfa-a]

there's no hesitation---elias rushes up to spy and gathers him up in his arms, peppering his face with little kisses. he missed him so much!

     There was a surprised grunt once those strong yet familiar arms were wrapped around his lean frame and a rare, genuine smile appeared on his features once he realized the owner. Those healing kisses were readily accepted, with a few being returned.

          ❝ Bonjour, mon ange. ❞ he cooed softly, winding his arms around the light of his life’s neck. ❝If that is the greeting I am to expect when I go away, then I ought to accept more missions in the near future. ❞