Reader who doesn't speak English as their first language and Simon being so in love !!
Over the dinner course, you leaned forward confidently, like you were sharing a secret.
"I think we should buy a baby wheelchair for them."
Price's missus was going to have a baby shower next week.
"Wot?" Simon blinked.
"A baby wheelchairâ" You pulled your fist into a punching stance and moved it back and forth, mimicking a tiny car. "Like a baby car⊠phew phew."
"Oh, that's a stroller." Simon raised a brow, watching your head bobble in a self-absorbed nod.
"Exactly, baby car⊠stroller."
And it was so cute when you looked up at him whenever you forgot certain words.
"Simon, how do you say in English? The takka-takka-takkaâ"
"Helicopter," Simon said fondly, earning himself a sweet peck on the lips.
The task force enjoyed it immensely. When Soap said, âBreak a leg !â and you raised up a fight at why Simon should break his leg.
Or when Kyle couldn't stop laughing so much with the way you pronounced, âBitchâ to the bird who was hitting up on Simon.
And Simon loved it all, felt love in your eyes through your words, especially when you used his vocabularyâGod, it did something to him.
Saying "bugger" when you put too much ketchup, and "bloody freezinâ, innit?!" with that corky little smile because you knew how much it wrecked him.
"Bollocks," you would curse, and heâd already be losing his heart and mind, dragging you to the bedroom.
The way you would slip into your native dialect when you were upset, voice rising as you made frustrated noisesâSimon would forget the argument entirely, just watching you with that pretty face heâd go to war for.
And something, something about the way you said "I love you" in your native language first, just as softly, and how you called him "my love" in that same way too.
It meant you were a rare breed, prone to distrust because of the bad omens you represent and hence, stigmatised. And it didnât help at all to be stuck in a situation you couldnât escape from.
Naomie tried to cover, as bullets ran from the other side of the building. Of all the villages she had picked, she had to pick the one packed with terrorists holding a bio weapon, ready to set it off. It wasnât like she hadnât notice some of those men were⊠acting strange. But, she brushed her concerns off. Sure, she could go and wreak havoc, as Voirloups were invincible, but she was tired. And she didnât want to blow her cover. She was supposed to mask as a human, no power, no monster, just a normal human. And up to this point, it was working pretty well. She had learnt how to mask her scent, by applying a lotion she had made herself. And she made sure to cover all the time! No one should notice the intricate and detailed tattoos she harbored on her skin. Tattoos forced upon her by her own family⊠Brushing the memory down her mind, she tried to move.
Taking a quick glance, she observed as a man's skull was crushed by⊠by a werewolf. Oh great. Theyâre military men. As she ducked near another wall, she got a quick view on what was happening. Her dear neighbours and terrorists were being attacked and had their ass whooped by a team of four: all hybrids or creatures like herself. A werewolf, a harpy, a wraith (she shuddered at his view) and⊠a dragon. Well, she considered herself as fucked. They could believe she also was a terrorist. And she would be detained, as well⊠could not die like that. She should hide somewhere and wait for them to leaveâŠ
A dumpster.
That will do.
Jumping into it, she was almost relieved it didnât contain most trash. But damn, did it smell. At least, it would cover her scent more. Ten or so minutes later, no sound. The last man or monster was dead. Naomie didnât know if she should come out of her hiding place. Unfortunately for her⊠Well⊠Letâs say luck was never on her side.
The dumpster opened, and a man (the wraith she reminded herself) wearing a skull mask or balaclava saw her. Glared down at her as if she was a vermin and grabbed her by the arm harshly and in a very swift way. Naomie cried in surprise and was thrown on the ground, her head hitting the pavement. Being immune to wounds, and having a quick ability to heal would save her of course, but damn did it hurt! Her head was dizzy, and she had trouble standing up. Her ears were ringing, an occurrence that happened every now and then ever since that explosion in ToulouseâŠ
âCaptain! We have one more left.â The wraith spoke with a growl, and Naomie knew she was in immediate danger.
Indeed, the three others approached. And now she could see them more clearly, even if the ringing in her ears was persistent. First of all, they looked british. They had the fucking flag on their jacket, and the wraith sounded English. Second of all, the dragon was missing a wing and was looking rather pissed, the harpy just stood there, as the werewolf shifted back to being a human. She was rather fucked. Itâs been a very long time since she shifted.
âWhereâs the cargo?â The Captain said with a deep voice, smoke leaving his nostril. The wraith put his booth on her chest, which she found rude. âWell..?â
âI donât know what you are talking about. I just live here.â Naomie replied with a gasp as the pressure grew on her chest.
âShe smells weird.â The werewolf, now a man with a ridiculous mohawk, spoke out. He sniffed the air.
âShe was in a dumpster.â The harpy sarcastically replied, almost with a chuckle, and Naomie felt offended once again.
âThe cargo. Where. Is. It?â The dragon hybrid repeated as the pressure grew. Naomie growled in pain.
âI DONâT KNOW. I JUST LIVE HERE!â She yelled at them, and she gasped when she suddenly was pinned to the wall, her foot not even touching the ground as the dragon lifted her easily. And her jacket dropped to the ground. Fuck.
She could see and feel them staring. It wasnât everyday you could see tattoos that detailed on a young body. The ceremony stopped her aging at only 24 years old. Ceremony that was rather painful, as she didnât want it and was held down to have her first tattoo, her first âpeltâ as they called it: a wolf. Symbol of her family in a way. The dragon hybrid seemed to slowly realised what she was. It was⊠a bit rare someone recognised her breed in a few minutes. And now she was pissed.
He dropped, just as she opened her mouth. Oh so he knew what was coming? Good for him. The others looked at him, not understanding his sudden fear. But the wraith moved, using his powers, that she easily dodged, as she sang the somewhat useless incantation, in english this time:
âLord Satan, master of the universe, your humble and faithful servant invoke you so that your power, be in this day of your reign a panther so I can obey to your every whims and spread terror into those who refuses to serve you!â
Shifting was not something pleasant, especially when you were a Voirloup. It was said that they had been cursed for being sinners, and so the shifting was painful. Naomie didnât know if it was true but as her members elongated, and her hands turned to claws, she knew she was being punished for something.
âWhat the fuck?!â The werewolf exclaimed as Naomie pounced, trying to get away.
âGaz! Pursue her!â The captain ordered as the Voirloup attempted to flee the scene, and the village.
The harpy flew in the sky in a blink, leaving dust around his form. He was quicker than she was, and Naomie knew someway or another, they might get to her. Especially if that dragon hybrid knew her kind well. She ran through the narrow streets, attempting to block her form from the harpy. But the man was still following her !
After the chase, she felt black tendrils strapping her down, and she was pinned to the ground this time. She let out a huff, and a hiss when they carefully approached her. She knew she could use her elemental power to leave this scene. But what was the point? She was tired, exhausted from running and from shifting.
âGet her to the vehicle.â The dragon hybrid commanded, and the wraith kicked her in the head.
"141 x reader" *excludes gaz* PLS I'M SO TIRED OF Y'ALL FORGETTING THAT GAZ EXISTS AND THAT KĂNIG ISN'T A MEMBER OF TF141 FOR THE LOVE OF GOD STOP REPLACING GAZ WITH KĂNIG IT'S PISSING ME OFF
Stills from this animation. One thing about my art is that it's gonna be sketchy and messy đ€ I am obsessed with drawing this man, please give me any and every excuse to draw him
Love for and from your FOs! @imaginesforallkindoflove - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
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