#Ilsa x Alanna | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jolenes-doppelganger · 1 month

Text

Innocence

Ilsa Faust x Fem! Metropolis Reader

Summary: How many variables go awry with one appearance of a hidden player? What would the Entity have done if a third party appeared in the array of pre-determined, algorithm-generated deaths?

Warnings: Side character death, angst.

A/N: Fuck you Christopher McQuarrie and Erik Jendresen!!!! Killing a beloved female side character to 'motivate' the male protagonist is the definition of FUCKING FRIDGING!!!! The side character death will be resolved, should there be demand for future chapters.

Word Count: 4.0k (DAMN)

Perhaps it had been the rain, the chill it had brought to your bones. But regardless, something was afoot. The streets of Venice were unnaturally quiet, and the party you had left emphasized that fact; a ringing sang in your ears. You walked alone on the streets, quietly enjoying the soft patter of the rain that trembled down the drains. Dodging the Metropolis body guards had been easy, it was a high stakes night for Alanna, a high stakes night for you.

Unfortunately, things did not stay peaceful.

Commotion sprung out among the party goers, and you heard distant gunfire. Things had begun. Sprinting was your only option, but with the heels you'd chosen it was more likely you were to twist an ankle over the cobblestone than escape. Finding a dark corner, you managed to brace yourself against a wall, snapping your heels off, flattening them so you could take longer strides. You weren't the only person using the dark side of the building to escape. A shout, some commotion, and quick footwork as a woman scaled down a building, dropping in front of you.

She was within a foot of you, so close that on motion of the arm could land a hit, a punch, or perhaps push away the strands of hair that lay glued to her sweaty face.

“…Hi?”

She makes eye contact with you, momentarily spooked.

“You’re one of the Metropolis siblings."

A statement, and observation.

"Yes...?"

"You're not supposed to be at this party."

The two of you stared at one another for some time, both of you breathing heavily. She had blue eyes, distinct Scandinavian features. An English accent amongst the native Italian accented english. You pinned her as a foreigner, and from the equipment she used and the quick way she discerned who you were and your presumed whereabouts, she was also an intelligence operative.

“MI6?” you rasped.

The woman shook her head, a flicker of annoyance creeping over her features.

“There’s no time to talk, come on.” she huffed, grabbing you arm and pulling you towards an alleyway.

“Now hold on, I don’t know you-”

She turned on her heel, pulling the two of you into a doorway alcove, keeping her words clipped and quietly delivered.

“You’re (Reader) Metropolis. You were not supposed to be at this party, you weren’t even supposed to be in Italy. Things are going on beyond your understanding, and the Entity-”

“-The Entity? For fucks sake, that’s a myth.”

The woman raised her eyebrow, computing your response rapidly.

“No. No it is not. I’ve read your profile, the youngest child, a ten, fifteen year age gap between you and Alana?” the woman listed. “You were an affair baby, you were just recently integrated into the family, you serve as a glorified accountant…” Ilsa listed. “You aren’t a Metropolis type, even with your name and lineage.”

She spoke so eloquently, in a self-assured manner. You wanted to argue with her, or at the very least find something in her thought process to correct, but she was right on all accounts.

“Fine. Why are we in a dark alleyway, why do you know so much about me, and why don’t I know a damn thing about you?”

The woman squared her shoulders.

“My name is Ilsa Faust. I was a former agent for British Intelligence, I’ve gone rogue, I work alongside the equally rogue Ethan Hunt. And you, Ms. Metropolis, are innocent.”

Innocence. What a strange thing to equate to you.

“I beg your pardon?” you raised an eyebrow.

Ilsa sighed, looking around before pressing a finger to her headset.

“Benji. I can’t be the one to go after Grace.”

You watched her grimace, silently mouthing a few choice expletives.

“I know that. But I just… The youngest Metropolis is here. Metropolis, daughter of Max, the...” she paused, looking at you apologetically, “... Bastard child. The daughter of that old field agent friend of Ethan’s.”

She paused, seemingly listening to Benji as the poor man appeared to panic. You could hear the tonal fluctuations from your proximity a good foot aways.

“Yes, but it’s Ethan. He won’t see it that way. I know he'll be upset, but maybe it’s for the better.”

The line went quiet, and then there was a soft command. Ilsa nodded, looking at you.

“You’re coming with me.”

“Like hell I am, my mother taught me about stranger danger.”

You stood your ground, arms firmly crossed one over the other. Ilsa looked at you tiredly, seeming to mentally prepare herself for some gargantuan task.

“Do me a favor and pretend to be drunk.”

You frowned, not comprehending. Ilsa lunged forward, grabbing you by your waist and pulling you over her shoulder.

“Hey! I’m not a child, and this dress is short!”

Ilsa let out an annoyed huff, reaching up to pull your dress down.

“Sorry, princess.”

You heard commotion, what sounded like men running. Their shouts and mixed dialect could be heard from somewhere a half block away.

“Now is not the time to tell me you’re a bad actor.” Ilsa whispered.

Under threat of exposure, possible abduction and Alanna probably, definitely strangling you should she catch wind of this, complying was the only option. You went limp, arms and neck dangling as the men drew closer. They didn’t give you or Ilsa a second glance. She was mostly overlooked in favor of your bottom, of which you were begrudgingly aware of.

“Good girl.” Ilsa murmured once the men had passed, patting your rear.

“Oh.. Hey!” you blushed.

“Sorry. I was aiming for your back.”

“Yeah, my ass. Literally.” you retorted.

Ilsa let out a startled bark of laughter, amused. But she was quick to set you down, and noting the flimsy nature of your shoes, did so gently. You looked at her, a bit dizzy from the sudden rush of blood from your head to the rest of your body.

“You okay?”

“Give me a second, dizzy.”

But you two had little time. A com from Benji came through on Ilsa’s headset. Ilsa’s face went white, and she proceeded to grab you by your arm, booking it through the winding streets of Venice.

“I’m in heels, you will break my ankle if you keep pulling!” you sourly informed her.

“This is a matter of life and death. Kindly quiet yourself.” Ilsa snapped back.

A matter of life and death? Why was it always one of those? Two figures came into view, both stood atop of a canal bridge. You recognized neither of them, a tall man with salt and pepper hair and another brunette woman. He was stalking over to her, knife in hand. Her breathing was irregular, labored. But Ilsa was faster, approaching Gabriel, assuredly drawing forth a large sword. Gabriel brandished Grace’s switchblade, leaving the woman to pass out on the bridge.

“I hoped it'd be you.” Gabriel smiled.

“...”

You admired Ilsa's silence, her quiet appraisal of the man. The sparring began almost immediately, and it didn’t take a trained eye to see that they were evenly matched. But something was wrong. He was pushing her into a corner, and then the sword was gone. They fought over the switchblade, each getting a few slashes in. But Ilsa was getting weaker, or clumsier. A brief thought flashed over you. What if she died? What if he saw you? What if he saw you and you didn’t have anything to fight with? You needed that sword. This woman... She'd said that this was a matter of the Entity, and your sister had taken pains to ship you out to Berlin on short notice. You'd taken even larger pains to make it appear as if you had. If you weren't supposed to be here, then maybe you had an advantage over this man, over this Entity. But you had to think fast.

“Hey, asshole!” you shouted, hurling a small, fractured chunk of cobblestone at the man.

The rock hit Gabriel’s forehead just as he looked up, stunning him. It was a good hit, and it bought you time, but not enough. You lunged for the sword, but he was faster. The scuffle that ensued was brief, he was better equipped, and stronger. His eyes went wild as he snatched the switchblade again, aiming for your heart. The switchblade cut into your shoulder, and pain bloomed as the blade wedged itself into the socket. He’d missed. A scream tore its way out of your lungs, and white hot pain flashed through your mind’s eye. A grunt came from above as Ilsa landed a kick to his chest. The sword was knocked loose, toppling over the bridge. And with that the only remaining weapon was the switchblade lodged in your shoulder. Both Ilsa and the mystery man lunged for it, but both pulled back before grabbing it, seemingly for different reasons. The man’s eyes went wide with fear and recognition, and he stalked back quickly.

“You’re not supposed to be here, Metropolis.” he paled. “You were supposed to be in Berlin… You’re not… The Entity didn’t..”

He landed one more kick to Ilsa before running. His footsteps were quick, and he disappeared into the veins of the city, his footsteps dying away as if he was a ghost, as if he was never there. Ilsa watched him, breathlessly speaking to Benji about the semantics of the encounter. She was breathing heavily, and it was difficult to understand her. Both she and Benji devolved into thick, almost indiscernible Midlands accents as they spoke and often interrupted one another. Benji’s voice was so loud that you could hear whispers of it through her headset. Ilsa crouched over you, examining the wound and cussing. She appeared just as frazzled as your mystery attacker, mumbling something about innocents and bloodlines.

“Fuck me, kid. Just had to get stabbed.” Ilsa mumbles, pausing her complaining to briefly tear off a bit of your dress, “And I’ve got another head trauma to deal with, and Ethan is off the fucking grid.”

A man broke through the street, panting heavily, eyeing the slowly awakening Grace and the incoherently mumbling Ilsa as she secured the knife wound to prevent it from escaping. He’d run from the opposite end of the city, as if he’d been running in circles.

“Where’s Gabriel?” Ethan asked. “And who is… Baby Metropolis?”

Ilsa eyed him, nodding. She was busy tying the fabric of your torn dress around your shoulder. It must have been precaution, the knife prevented excess blood from escaping.

“He stabbed baby Metropolis?”

Ilsa nodded again, gently picking up your now shivering frame. It was cold in Venice tonight, and without the rush of adrenaline it was very clear just how cold it was. Ethan, or John Lark as you knew him, stumbled forward, hastily taking you from Ilsa.

“It’s going to be okay, it’s all going to be alright.” Ethan says, in his signature ‘I’m saving the day’ voice.

The voice didn’t help. He was John Lark to your eyes; a madman.

“I know, Jesus. Get off!” you protested, trying to get away from the short, scary man.

Ilsa chuckled a bit at this. It appears Ethan’s usual charms wouldn’t work on you, and for good reason. A boat sped through the canal, and you recognized the driver by his voice. Benji? There was another man on the boat, large and equipped with a fedora. Both looked a bit shell-shocked, seeing the aftermath of the commotion on the bridge.

“Luther, get her in the boat.” Benji needlessly directed the other man as he was already pulling Grace in.

Luther examined Grace’s head for signs of abrasion while Ethan and Ilsa lowered you into the boat. Ilsa held you steady, your back pressed against her front, one of her arms wrapped around your midsection, the other cradling your head as the boat sped through the canal once more. Ethan was hastily gloving up, and a brief concern over sterility dawned on you, but it wasn’t as if you had a choice.

“This is a hospital wound.” Ethan sighed.

“We can’t go to the hospital, Ethan.” Luther warned.

“I know that.” Ethan snapped back. “Cover her mouth.” Ethan directed Ilsa.

Ilsa’s hand fitted firmly over your mouth, her other arm holding your torso against hers. You tensed immediately. What the hell was Lark going to do to you?

“Breathe in and…” Ilsa directed.

Ethan pulled the switchblade out as you exhaled, the scream dying off as you ran out of air. The noise that was ultimately muffled by Ilsa’s hand was that of a high pitched wheeze. Ilsa’s hand remained, a wordless understanding between Ethan and Ilsa. Blood gushed from the wound immediately, and Ethan mumbled something about missing major arteries and cut tendons. Not like it mattered to you, Ilsa’s hand kept your head up, your mouth covered.You couldn’t see the damage for yourself.

“Breathe in, and out. In… Out…. In….” she continued.

With another quick jerk, Ethan pushed your shoulder back in its proper socket. This time your scream was much more audible, even with Ilsa muffling it. Grace winced as she watched. The blade had wedged itself into the socket, it wasn’t a pretty sight.

“Good girl, good job.” Ilsa whispered, breaking the tension. “I know it hurts, it would have been worse if you knew it was coming.”

Her hand left your mouth, fingers gently pulling through your hair, a soothing motion. Ethan moved on to stitching up the knife wound, or so you thought. The needle went deeper.

“Oh Jesus Christ…” Grace paled.

You tilted your head to look, but Ilsa was faster, not letting you see. The needle bit in, and you winced. Ethan had a skilled hand, but it was clear he was stitching something deeper.

“Ethan, is that really necessary?” Benji asked. “You’ve got her whole shoulder airing out in this dirty city.

“The tendon was sliced, it needs to be stitched up.”

Luther appeared just off to the side, gloved up and gently dabbing iodine all around and in the wound. It stung like a bitch, and you clenched your teeth as you hissed in pain. Your natural instinct directed you to look again, but Ilsa kept your head in place.

“Don’t look. If you look you’ll get hysterical or ill.” Ilsa murmured. “Now stay still.”

You wanted to stay still, you really did. But you didn’t have a pleasant sight. Grace looked practically green, from both her concussion and the sight of your open wound, and Luther had a worried look on his face. Benji wasn’t better, with that permanent anxious frown on his features. The biting sensation in your shoulder only continued as Ethan worked on stitching up the various tendons that had gotten cut. It was Ilsa who noticed your rapid, panicked breathing.

“No, no.” Ilsa protested, tilting your face to look at her. “Look at me, breathe in and out, none of this ragged panting you’re doing. You’re not going into shock, we don’t have time for that.”

Her stern, authoritative approach was what you needed to stay afloat in the midst of Ethan’s suturing. She had this soft frown on her face, her hand firmly holding your head in place as she murmured to you.

“Benji is driving us to the safehouse. You’re coming with us, you hear?”

Ilsa outlined the plan, the various things she was going to do, baths, medicine, sleep, food. All the things you would need to get better. By the time Ethan started suturing the skin, her nose was barely touching yours, her words floating over you like mist. She kept your head in place, murmuring softly as her blue eyes twinkled in the dim light. It was… Intimate. More intimate than other things you’d experienced. Why was it always the barrier between life and death, ailment and health that always brought forth the most romantic moments. It was something your mother had said… All friendships are romantic. Perhaps all beginnings of friendships could be interpreted as such.

“Iodine.” Ethan curtly directed

The yellow antiseptic stung, and you winced. Luther had a gentle hand, and he’d used it throughout the process, but it was the freshly sutured skin that burned the most. Ilsa stroked your cheek, shifting her other arm to hold your injured shoulder in place. You hadn’t even noticed that you’d been trying to move it.

“No moving this, you hear?”

“Wasn’t gonna.” you mumbled.

The boat stalled. Benji stood up, gesturing everyone to leave the boat, but his words died in his throat. His eyes bulged, a shocked expression on his face. The shot had been so quiet, the whizzing was all that had been audible. Benji jerked, and red bloomed at the front of his chest. Ethan was quick to support him, still gloved up from his work on you. The quiet moment of the canal was broken. Everyone was moving except you. There was arguing, many voices crumpled into one echochamber of chaos, Grace holding Benji as Luther held Ethan back. For a little man, Ethan was vicious when angry, intending to follow the unseen sniper and mercilessly deliver his body to the canal. The boat rocked violently, and Ilsa shouted continuously, mostly at Ethan to calm down. Her grip on you was tight, her hands placed over vital areas on your abdomen. She was protecting you should another shot fire. Benji met your eyes, his hand held over the gunshot wound. He looked gray, as if life had been sucked out of him the moment the bullet hit its target.

“Gabriel was going to send a message either way.” Benji rasps, his voice bringing sense back into Ethan.

Ilsa left you on the boat as she helped Grace carry Benji into the safehouse. It was clear that there would be no second shot, and you were safe in the belly of the boat. Ethan breathed irregularly, the muscles in his neck tensing and relaxing as he seemed to be pushing aside his anger. He too left the boat, leaving Luther to attend to you. There was an uneasy stillness in the air, and Luther moved to pick you up, pausing at the brief fear that appeared in your eyes.

“I’m… You don’t know who most of us are, do you?” he asked, intuitive in more ways than one.

You shook your head, taking a breath in to steady your nerves before answering.

“I know… Ilsa. Ilsa Faust, yeah? Umm.. Then there’s Lark. John Lark.”

You’d heard all of their names at least once, but you couldn’t list them in the aftermath of Benji’s snipe attack.

“That’s Ethan.” Luther corrected. “The brunette is Grace, Benji is the Englishman who’s been injured, and I’m Luther. Now let’s get you out of this boat.” he softly finished.

You pegged him as the gentle giant of the group, and he was. Gentle, at least. He carried you off of the boat, up the stairs into the Venetian safehouse. It was as still as the water outside. Why was it so still? Such a large city, and yet it felt like a ghost town. There were no arguments now. Grace sat in a corner, a bag of peas on her head. Ethan and Ilsa were in a separate room, quietly conversing as they treated Benji, as you presumed they were doing. No hospitals, they’d said. What kind of people couldn’t go to hospitals?

“Here’s some of Ilsa’s clothes. Tank top, and sweats. Bathroom’s over there.” Luther pointed.

He stepped into the room with his other friends. It was the only room with light in the stone house. The clothes looked fresh, and your dress was dirty and torn. You didn’t see the point in maintaining your privacy with Grace staring off into space and the others presumably holding vigil over Benji. But it was difficult, grabbing the zipper. Gabriel had struck you in your more flexible, left shoulder. You couldn’t grab the zipper with your right hand.

“Here.” Grace murmured, getting up to unzip your dress. “It’s just us girls, let’s get you into these.”

Grace gently pulled off your dress, working the tank top over your injured shoulder and sliding the joggers up your body. You noticed her tired movements. She’d suffered a pretty decent blow to the head. Concussions were no joke. From this distance you could clearly make out the lines around her mouth as she pursed her lips, helping you to dress.

“Thanks. Grace, right?” you quietly asked, breaking the unnatural stillness.

She nodded, brown eyes losing their glassy look.

“Yes. You’re Baby Metropolis?”

“Oh, no my name is (Reader) Metropolis. I’m the baby of the family.” you explained.

“Ah.”

Grace settled beside you on the couch. Her shirt was half unbuttoned. But it didn’t matter. It was just us girls.

“He’s not going to make it.” Grace murmured. “If he was going to live, they should have taken him to a hospital the moment he was shot.”

You looked down at your hands, the constant pain in your shoulder contrasting with the numbness everywhere else. Benji. He’d… Somehow he was important. A piece of the puzzle, someone who struck you as innocent. Perhaps that was why his death seemed so irrational.

“Are you in pain?” Grace realized. “That’s a dumb question, of course you are.”

She got up, rummaging through an open medical bag until she found what she was looking for. Her footsteps were soft, bare feet delicately navigating the creaky floorboards with practiced agility. She was a con of some sort. No one else would instinctively avoid the creaky floorboards of an old house.

“Take two of these.” she says.

“Extra strength tylenol?” you joked.

“Stronger.” Grace murmured, half-smile on her face.

You nodded, taking the meds. There was nothing in your stomach, so the meds dissolved quickly, taking away the pain in as little as fifteen minutes. They came with a distinct drowsy side effect, as if the world was a bit floaty. Grace wasn’t the only one who was anxious to sleep, and the two of you crept into the larger bedroom after finding a few croissants to snack on. Two king beds and empty dressers, divided into girls and boys, or so you presumed. The two of you settled under the covers, closing your eyes. Sleep came quickly. Somewhere in the twilight of the early morning, Ilsa slid into the bed behind you, an arm draped over your abdomen as you laid on your back. You didn’t need the answer to why she was so clingy. Or perhaps you had it wrong. But you wouldn’t protest this stranger’s touches. No, there was a bond there now. You’d survived such an ordeal together, such a crisis as the one you were bound in. And it felt nice, to be sandwiched in between Grace and Ilsa. You were safe here.

Morning broke, but the sun did not break this quiet. There wasn’t a word spoken. The atmosphere in the room was somber. No one needed to say it, Benji had passed. Ethan’s dead look as he sat on the couch confirmed any suspicion. Luther cooked breakfast for everyone, maintaining a sense of normality. Ethan wouldn’t accept any of Ilsa’s soft attempts to bring him food, and he wouldn’t accept her beside him, either. The Entity had taken a divergent route in its predictions. Grace and Ilsa had been failed targets, so the Entity chose to take Ethan Hunt’s friend instead. And Ethan, being the savior he was, took it hard.

“Over here.” Grace murmured, gesturing Ilsa over to where the both of you sat.

Ilsa settled on the rug, predictably taking a seat next to you. She didn’t outright drape an arm over you, but her knee touched yours. It was a soft, innocent gesture. She wanted closeness, and you did too. Your knees stayed touching. Grace noticed the little dynamic between the two of you, shifting a little closer so she could get in on it too. Her knee came into contact with yours on the other side. Three pairs of feet lined up, three legs nestled close, shoulders flanking yours on both sides. It was cute, and you giggled, triggering Grace’s laugh too. Ilsa smiled, humming in amusement. And for a brief moment, Ethan’s eyes flickered with something other than sorrow. He picked up the plate Ilsa had left on the coffee table. And he ate.

<-->

#rebecca ferguson x you #rebecca ferguson x reader #rebecca ferguson #ilsa faust x you #ilsa faust x reader #mission impossible #mission impossible dead reckoning part one #wlw #lesbian

77 notes · View notes

justabigassnerd · 10 months

Text

Never Your Fault

Pairing - Ethan Hunt x daughter!reader

Word count - 6,254

Warnings - MAJOR DEAD RECKONING SPOILERS, death, injuries, blood, knives, violence, guilt, grief, nightmares

Summary - after witnessing a traumatic loss, you begin to blame yourself. can your dad help you out or is he too wrapped up in his own grief?

A/N - the first official part of the lil' Hunt series y'all! I'm so excited for y'all to read this I've been working so hard on it! it was really fun exploring these new dynamics and I genuinely enjoyed writing this so much (even if it was super painful at times). anyways I won't ramble anymore, as per y'all, please send in requests, feedback and enjoy!!!

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Most people go to places like Italy on their holidays or maybe even visiting loved ones, but you and your dad? You travelled to Rome in search of a woman who had half of a key that was crucial in the shutting down of an ever-powerful AI named The Entity.

Your dad had been tracking Grace since she made off with half the key in the Abu Dhabi airport and had managed to track her down in Rome before she escaped his grasp once more. He, Ilsa, Benji, and Luther managed to track where Grace’s next move might be and it was in Venice, at the party held by someone Ethan and the IMF had dealt with before, Alanna Mitsopolis, better known as the White Widow. They figured if Grace was heading to Venice, then the person who hired Grace must be at that party or in the area.

Ethan decided that he and Ilsa would go to the party to see if they could track Grace or her buyer down while you, Benji, and Luther remained in the safe house and ran surveillance while the two were at the party.

“y/n, be good for Benji and Luther.” Ethan says as he tugs on his blazer, folding the collar down and checking he looked alright in the mirror before Ilsa walked in.

“Seriously? I’m not a kid you know.” You scoff jokingly as Ethan looks over at you with a grin.

“Well gotta put the warning down just in case. And if you want to leave the safe house, make sure Benji and Luther know where you are and-”

“Stick to lit areas and always stay alert. I know dad.” You finish his sentence for him, smiling up at him as he lets out a soft, breathy laugh.

“You’re too much like me, you know?” Ethan says softly, reaching out to tug you into his arms for a quick hug before pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you, dad.” You say quietly, squeezing him a little before pulling away.

“I love you too, y/n/n.” Ethan replies before he releases you and he and Isla gather the last of their stuff and bid a last goodbye to the three of you remaining in the safe house before leaving.

“You’ve taught her well, Ethan. She’ll be just fine.” Ilsa says with a gentle smile upon seeing the hidden worry in Ethan’s eyes. She knew how much he worried about you and your well-being, but she also knew that he was protecting you as best he could. The two make their way out onto the streets of Venice and head in the direction of the party to begin their investigation.

Not long after you heard that Ilsa and Ethan had arrived at the party, you stretched your arms above your head and stood up from your chair once you relaxed.

“Guys, I’m going out for a walk. I haven’t gotten a chance to explore yet.” You say as you grab your jacket and throw it on before grabbing your phone.

“Location on?” Luther asks, glancing at the phone in your hand as you nod.

“You know it.” You reply as both Benji and Luther see your phone location appear on their screens.

“Yep, there you are. Be safe out there y/n.” Benji says, looking at you worriedly as you smile softly at him.

“Always am.” You say reassuringly, bidding Benji and Luther goodbye before exiting the safe house and beginning to wander the streets of Venice. You didn’t have a set location in mind and since it was relatively quiet out on the streets you decided to let your legs take you wherever they wanted to go. You’d never been to Venice before so you took in every sight you came across, knowing that you may not come back to this beautiful city again after this mission. You find yourself at one point sitting on a bench near one of the canals and admiring the stars in the sky, you always found the night sky so calming.

Meanwhile, at Alanna’s party, Ethan and Ilsa had tracked down Grace and discovered that Alanna was the one who hired her to steal the half of the key that Ethan had attempted to acquire in Abu Dhabi. They found out that Alanna was planning to sell it on to someone else and despite Ethan’s best efforts, he couldn’t convince her to not sell it. Gabriel stood before the four sat on the plush sofa and revealed that The Entity had been listening in and had infiltrated the party thanks to Gabriel and his men.

“Ethan Hunt. The Entity knows all about you. And your precious little daughter. y/n, is it? Yes, that’s the one.” Gabriel starts, noticing Ethan’s body tense up at the mention of your name and a twisted grin covered his face. He was getting the reaction he wanted and now he was going to have Ethan play right into The Entity’s plan. Ethan’s heartbeat was pounding in his ears, and he could barely focus on anything around him other than Gabriel and his sneer.

“The Entity has also decided that you have to pick someone to die. Ilsa, or y/n. You cannot save both Ethan.” Gabriel says, his grin widening as Ethan shoots to his feet, immediately held back by Gabriel’s men from attacking him.

“If you hurt either one of them, I swear, no one, not even your god will stop me from killing you.” Ethan growls angrily, fighting against the two men, desperate to launch at Gabriel who stands there and laughs at Ethan’s threats. Gabriel slinks off with a couple of men in tow after Alanna leaves and Ethan and Ilsa take the opportunity to attack the men to keep Ilsa safe and buy time for them to find out where you were so they could keep you safe too.

“Grace take this comm, Luther will guide you to someplace safe, I promise. Now go!” Ethan says, shoving a small communication device into Grace’s hand and encouraging her to get out while she still can.

“Benji, where is y/n? Is she with you?” Ethan says as he dodges a punch and quickly delivers a blow in retaliation.

“No, she left a while ago, said she wanted to go on a walk.” Benji says, his eyes fixed on his laptop as he hurriedly scans the map for your whereabouts.

“Connect me to her comm now!” Ethan says to Benji, landing a punch on an enemy, sending them stumbling back.

“She didn’t take one Ethan, but she does have her location on.” Benji says, hurriedly pulling up the map and searching for the dot that signals where you are.

“Give me directions to where she is right now.” Ethan says as Ilsa subdues the final man and they exchange a brief look before both running out of the building, dodging the men pursuing them from outside the building.

“Yes, directions… wait… what’s going…? Ethan, I’ve lost her she’s not on the map anymore.” Benji’s panicked voice comes through the comms and Ethan feels his blood run cold.

“Benji, where is she? Where is y/n?” Ethan’s voice was clearly panicked, and everyone could tell how worried he was about you. Benji was frantically typing away on his laptop trying to figure out why your signal had disappeared.

“Let’s split up and search while Benji tries to find her. We’ll cover more ground that way.” Ilsa says as the two duck into an alley to avoid being spotted.

“Are you sure?” Ethan asks. He knew Ilsa also had a bright red target on her back because of her closeness to him and he wasn’t willing to lose you or her to Gabriel or The Entity.

“I’ll be fine Ethan. Whoever finds her has to let the other know and we’ll rendezvous back at the safe house. Nothing more dangerous than the stuff we’ve already done.” Ilsa says softly, taking Ethan’s hand and squeezing it softly. The two silently agree on which direction they’re going to head in before leaving the safety of the alley and running off.

“Ethan, I’ve got her back on the map I’ll lead you to her now.” Benji’s voice comes over Ethan’s comm and he perks up, completely unaware that back in the safe house, Benji had not said a word and was instead staring at his laptop in confusion at the voice that eerily mimicked his own.

You were oblivious to everything that was going on as you walked around Venice. You stopped halfway across a bridge and just admired the quiet canal and the sky above before the sound of footsteps reached your ears. You barely glanced their way at first, expecting it to be a passerby who would do no more than maybe offer you a curt nod before continuing on their way but when you noticed out the corner of your eye that they were standing there staring at you, you turned to face them. Your breath hitched in your throat and your heartbeat picked up when you got a proper look at the man standing before you. He stood in front of you, a maniacal grin on his face as he stared down at you. Every instinct was screaming at you to run, to move, to do anything but your body wouldn’t co-operate. It was like you were frozen in place and nothing you did could make you move.

“y/n Hunt. I’ve been waiting a long time to meet you.” The man says, approaching you slowly and your brain finally kicks in enough to make you pull your small switchblade out of your pocket and flick the blade out. Your dad and Ilsa had taught you how to defend yourself should the occasion arise, but you had always hoped and prayed you would never have to.

“Who are you?” You ask, fighting to keep your voice from shaking as you tighten your grip on the handle of your weapon.

“Just an old friend of your father’s.” The man says simply, moving ever closer as you lift your hand that held the blade and ready yourself, your brain repeating everything your dad and Ilsa had taught you as the man launched at you. You managed to dodge his attack and came just shy of your blade meeting his skin. The fight consisted of a lot of back and forth between dodging attacks and trying to land them. You managed to slash the man a couple of times with your small blade before the weapon was knocked from your hand and you looked up at the man in terror before he punches you across the face and sends you to the ground, hitting your head on one of the stone steps of the bridge which makes your world grow dark in an instant.

Ilsa came across you first, instantly recognising Gabriel who reached down and tugged you up by your hair as he lifted his blade to your throat. You were unconscious and unable to fight back and Ilsa couldn’t just stand by and watch.

“In all the years I’ve known Ethan I’ve learnt he cares for everyone. But his daughter will always be his top priority.” Luther’s words echoed in Ilsa’s head as she noticed the switchblade gleaming in the moonlight and she wasted no time in scooping it up.

“Pick on someone your own size.”

When you come to, the first thing that registers is the sound of an engine and the splashing of water against the walls of the canal. Your head was throbbing as you carefully sit up, blinking your eyes to adjust to your surroundings. You glanced to the side as you caught sight of a blurry figure to your right and squinted your eyes to focus them and are surprised to see the man who attacked you was now missing and your dad had taken his place, kneeling over a figure as you force yourself to your feet.

“Dad, what’s going-” You immediately cut yourself off as you approach your dad, recognising the figure he was kneeling by. Tears instantly sprang to your eyes as you stared down at Ilsa. Her eyes were open but there was no sign of life within them. Your hand covered your mouth as you blinked back the tears. You were confused, and you were worried, but above everything, you were scared. You didn’t know who attacked you and whether they were behind Ilsa’s death or even who that man was working for and what his end goal was.

“y/n, Ethan, get in!” You hear the hushed, hurried voice of Benji which breaks you from your thoughts and you see him positioning the boat near the path so you could get in the boat. You shakily make your way towards the boat, taking Benji’s outstretched hand as he eases you down into the boat.

“Careful y/n, are you okay?” Benji asks worriedly, grabbing a cloth from the first aid kit and holding it against your temple, encouraging you to hold it firmly in place as you sit down on one of the seats. In your haze, you hadn’t noticed the blood that had run down your face from when your head hit on the step.

“I’m okay.” You say shakily, looking up at Benji with tear filled eyes.

“Luther will check you over once we’re back at the safe house, just to be on the safe side.” Benji says softly with a small smile before moving to help Ethan into the boat, Ethan refused to leave Ilsa’s body behind and so Benji helped Ethan load her body onto the boat and travel down the canal until he found a place to bury her. Somewhere quiet that he would be able to visit. When he found the perfect spot, he insisted he didn’t need any help and disappeared on his own to bury the woman he loved. When he returned, his face was set and he barely spoke to you or Benji, just silently confirming he wanted to go back to the safe house and Benji complied.

When you arrived back at the safe house, Ethan excused himself to go to the roof while Luther crossed to you, placing his hands on each of your shoulders which makes you look up at him.

“Benji, keep an eye on Grace, and check in with Ethan when he comes back down. y/n lets go to your room and I’ll check that head injury of yours.” Luther says, at first to Benji who moves to sit near Grace at the table while Luther grabs the first aid kit and carefully guides you to the small room you would use to sleep in. Luther doesn’t switch the main light on, instead flicking on a small lamp. He sits you down on the edge of the bed and sits alongside you, carefully taking your hand in his own and moving both it and the cloth away from your injury so he could take a look.

“The good news is the bleeding is slowing, I’ll bandage it up now, but I think it’s best if you don’t sleep just so we can keep an eye on you. How are you feeling right now?” Luther says gently, opening the first aid kit and finding an antiseptic wipe to clean the wound.

“A bit dizzy, but I’ll live.” You mumble, wincing slightly when the wipe comes into contact with the injury, but you didn’t complain, you felt like you deserved the pain for what happened.

“And how are you feeling?” Luther asks, scrunching up the wipe and tossing it on top of its packaging before grabbing some gauze.

“I just told you I-”

“No, I’m asking how you are feeling. Emotionally not physically.” Luther corrects you gently, carefully placing the gauze against your temple and asking you quietly to hold it in place while he gets the medical tape out.

“I got Ilsa killed Luther, how do you expect me to feel?” The words came out sharper than you meant them to. You didn’t mean to snap, not at Luther but the guilt was beginning to take hold, clinging onto you gleefully like some sort of malicious creature and whispering in your ear about how it was your fault.

“y/n, it wasn’t your fault.” Luther says, a gentleness to his voice only reserved for heart to hearts like this.

“The guy that attacked me wanted to kill me I know it. So why did he kill her instead?” You whisper, tears springing to your eyes again as you think of what had just transpired. You were the one who was supposed to be dead. Ilsa was supposed to be alive, and you knew it. Ilsa was dead and it was all your fault. Luther remained quiet for a moment, silently debating his next words. He knew he couldn’t tell you that Ethan had been given a choice to save you or Ilsa, not that Ethan would have ever made the decision. But he couldn’t let you sit by and blame yourself either.

“You can’t blame yourself for what happened it was out of your control.” Luther argues gently, beginning to put the medical tape along the gauze to keep it in place while you remain silent, Luther’s words seemingly hitting a brick wall. When Luther finishes patching you up, he gathers up everything he’s used and stands, looking down at you softly.

“We’ll be in the other room if you need us.” He says before leaving the room. You remain sat on the edge of your bed, various thoughts swimming through your head of how you could’ve saved Ilsa somehow.

“y/n, we need you in the other room. We’re going over the new plan.” Benji says as he opens the door, making you wonder how long you had zoned out and did nothing but listen to your thoughts. You nod lightly at Benji’s words, forcing yourself to your feet and heading into the next room. Grace was still sitting at the table under both Ethan and Luther’s watchful eyes as you enter behind Benji. As you sit at the table, Ethan starts going over the new plan, how both he and Grace would disguise themselves and get the other half of the key and then Ethan would leave the train and meet you and Benji at the rendezvous point so you could figure out the next move from there while Grace would let herself get arrested and get into contact with Kittridge so she could join the IMF. Gabriel, who you learnt was the man who attacked you, was the only man who knew how to use the key so learning what the key opened and how it worked was important to the mission. As Ethan walked Grace through what she had to do, you noticed Luther packing up his belongings and you noticed he hadn’t been mentioned once in the plan.

“What about you Luther?” You ask, confused when he looks up at you with a soft smile.

“I’m heading off the grid for a while, I have traces of The Entity on my hard drive, so I want to investigate it further. I’ll make contact when I have something.” Luther says, putting the last of his stuff in a bag and straightening up.

“I’ll see you around Ethan. Don’t kill Gabriel, we need him.” Luther says, clapping Ethan on the shoulder as he approaches him.

“Luther, wait!” You call quickly, leaping to your feet and rushing over to give the man a hug which he quickly reciprocates.

“I’ll see you around Lil’ Hunt.” Luther whispers as he hugs you back, bringing a small smile to your face at the nickname Luther had been calling you since the moment he first met you. After pulling away you bid Luther one final goodbye before he leaves to investigate The Entity further. After Luther leaves, Benji notices that the mask machine has broken while making the mask for Ethan.

“Grace, you’ll have to get on the train by yourself. I’ll figure out another way on.” Ethan says, glancing at Grace who is visibly worried by the news.

“Promise me you’ll be on that train.” Grace says to your dad, and you watch him carefully to see how he’ll respond.

“I promise.” Your dad responds, and despite the lack of emotion on his face, you knew he was being one hundred percent serious. He’d never let anyone who trusted him down if he could help it. Grace is then given a mask with Alanna’s likeness and is instructed to put it in a bag so she can board the Orient Express and track down Alanna. She’s also given a sedative to knock Alanna out long enough for Grace to take her place and retrieve both halves of the key.

“We should probably make a move guys; we don’t have long until the train is due to leave.” Benji points out, scooping what he needs into his bag while encouraging you to do the same, so you quickly go into your room and grab the stuff you need and shove them into a bag and sling it over your shoulder. The four of you then head down to the garage that was used for IMF vehicles. Ethan immediately grabs the motorbike, gets on it and looks at Benji.

“You take Grace to the train station. Get her on safely, okay?” He says directly to Benji, barely sparing you a second glance, making you look to the ground, fighting back any potential tears as you follow Benji to the car and get in the back seat while Benji gets behind the wheel and Grace gets in the passenger seat. You lean back against the seat and squeeze your eyes shut to fight back the tears further. Seeing your dad actively avoid looking at you was just confirmation to you that he thought it was your fault Ilsa was dead. That he wished you had been the one who died instead of her. You watch as your dad revs the engine and drives off, with Benji following. When you reach the train station that the Orient Express will stop at, Benji pulls over and lets Grace out, reassuring her that she’ll be just fine before watching her walk into the station.

“Come on y/n, get in the front.” Benji says with a smile, turning back to look at you and fighting back a frown when you shake your head.

“I need my co-pilot for this.” He then says, noticing how you perk up just a little at his words. He knew Ethan tried to keep you out of the IMF life as much as possible but Benji figured that helping out behind the scenes wouldn’t hurt and so he taught you all the technical stuff he knew and allowed you to help out if you wanted to. Convinced by his words, you move to sit in the passenger seat, smiling softly as Benji smiles back.

“Atta girl.” Benji says with a smile before starting the car up and beginning the drive to the rendezvous point. You figured it would be a straight shot and a lot of waiting around. Your dad already knew where he was going to attempt to board the train and Grace was already on it, so it was just you and Benji until your dad met you at the rendezvous point with the key.

“Benji, the train didn’t slow down I need another place to get on!” You hear your dad’s shout come over the comms as you exchange a worried look with Benji.

“y/n, get my tablet and pull up the map.” Benji quickly instructs and you do as he asks, opening the map and handing it to Benji as he puts the car on autopilot. You and Benji scour the terrain and areas your dad could use to get on the train. You notice it first, switching your comm off and pointing it out.

“He might not like it, but this seems like our best bet.” You say, glancing from the map to Benji who lets out a small sigh but nods regardless.

“Okay, this is where you need to go.” Benji takes over directing Ethan where to go while you remain silent, listening to the pounding of your heart echoing in your ears. When you heard your dad confirming he reached the top of the mountain and wondering how he was going to get down you started to worry. Benji insisted he’d be fine since he had his parachute but when your dad’s comm went silent you started to worry that you had caused your dad’s death as well.

By the time you had reached the rendezvous point, you had confirmation that your dad had made it onto the train, but you didn’t hear from him after that, leaving you to wonder if he was okay.

“He’ll be fine. He’s Ethan and nothing stops Ethan.” Benji says reassuringly, noticing you fidgeting and the obvious tension in your body.

“I could’ve gotten him killed with that mountain idea.” You mumble, looking down and fiddling with the charm bracelet that sat proudly on your right wrist.

“It’s the only way Ethan could’ve gotten to the train, there were no other chances for him to get on. Your dad knows what he’s doing, and I bet it won’t be long until he turns up.” Benji says reassuringly, shuffling in his seat so he can face you as best he can. When you remain silent, Benji speaks up again.

“Are you okay, y/n? You seemed shaken up on the bridge and I haven’t gotten a chance to check in with you yet.” Benji asks softly, worry written across his face as he remembers watching you realise that Ilsa had died.

“It’s my fault Ilsa died, isn’t it? And dad thinks it’s my fault too.” You mumble, your gaze not moving from the bracelet as you flick one of the silver charms lightly, watching as it flies away from your finger due to the impact and then bounces harmlessly off your wrist. As you stared at your bracelet you neglected to see Benji’s expression shift to one of shock at the realisation that you were not only blaming yourself but thinking Ethan blamed you too.

“y/n/n, Ilsa’s death was not your fault at all. You didn’t even know what was happening because-”

“You’re right, I didn’t know what was happening and I should’ve. I should’ve taken a comm with me so I would know if anything was happening, like some mad man wanting to kill me. I should’ve known so I could’ve gone back to the safe house and Ilsa and dad wouldn’t have had to run around Venice looking for me.” You say, frustrated tears filling your eyes as more potential ways you could’ve saved Ilsa pop into your head.

“y/n, even if you did have a comm it wouldn’t have helped that much. The Entity managed to mimic my voice and use it to lead Ethan somewhere else when I was trying to figure out where you were because it wiped your signal from the map so I couldn’t lead your dad or Ilsa to you to keep you safe.” Benji explains, his heart breaking for you, wishing he could take this pain away from you because in his eyes you didn’t deserve it.

“It doesn’t change the fact that dad obviously blames me. He couldn’t even look at me before we left, and he didn’t talk to me either.” Your voice was no louder than a whisper now as the tears escaped their confinement and rolled down your cheeks. Benji’s face softened when he saw how upset you were and placed a gentle hand on your shoulder.

“Ethan would never blame you for what happened to Ilsa. He’s just trying to put the mission first, so he doesn’t have to deal with his emotions. You know what he’s like. Try and talk to him when we make it to the next safe house, it’ll do you both some good to talk things over.” Benji says softly, squeezing your shoulder gently to make you look up at him, eyes still filled with tears.

“I know you’ve got it in your head that your dad blames you, but he couldn’t. Ethan knows it’s not your fault. It’s Gabriel’s.” Benji assures as you sniffle lightly, reaching up with your hand to wipe at your eyes harshly.

“Benji, I’m on my way now stand by.” Before you had a chance to respond, Ethan’s voice crackles over the comms and you immediately move to sit in the back of the car, knowing it’ll be the easiest way to avoid talking to your dad. You waited with bated breath for your dad to arrive and as soon as he landed, he took his parachute off and loaded into the car.

“I got it, Benji. We’ve gotta get somewhere to lay low and get into contact with Luther to let him know we’ve got it.” Ethan says, holding up the key to show off that he has it while you curl into yourself in the backseat, avoiding even looking in your dad’s direction as Benji starts the car to drive to a safe house you could use to lie low in. Halfway through the journey, Benji glanced in his rearview mirror and saw you staring out the window intently, tears evident in your eyes and fought back a frown as he then glanced at Ethan out of the corner of his eyes and saw him focused on the road ahead.

The drive to the new safe house was silent other than the rumbling of the engine, and when Benji parked the car in the garage you were quick to jump out, grab your bag and disappear in the building, leaving Benji and Ethan behind. Benji, having had enough of the silence, turns to Ethan.

“Ethan, mate, you need to talk to y/n. She’s not okay right now and I know the mission is important, but I think right now your daughter is more important. You weren’t the only one there when you found Ilsa. She blames herself, Ethan.” Benji says, his tone gentle but with a certain strength in his voice showing how he wanted to get his point across. Ethan briefly looks in the direction of where you had gone and nods so lightly that the movement was almost imperceivable. Ethan decided to wait until he could find an appropriate time to talk to you since he needed to get into contact with Luther and try and figure out where to start searching for the Sevastopol so he can end The Entity. Before he knew it night had fallen and when he sticks his head in the room you decided to occupy to see if you were awake, he was greeted with the sight of you curled up in bed. He pressed his lips into a firm line and backed out of the room, vowing to talk to you in the morning.

What Ethan didn’t know was that you were faking it. You couldn’t fall asleep no matter how hard you tried. Every time you closed your eyes you were greeted with the image of Isla’s dead body on the bridge and the heartbreak in your dad’s eyes. Your brain refused to let up as you continued to try, coaching yourself through methods your dad had taught you to help you get to sleep. After hearing silence fall around the safe house and realising that everyone has gone to bed, you get up, grabbing a blanket and tugging it around your shoulders as you head out onto the balcony to sit and watch the stars.

An hour after you went out onto the balcony, Ethan shot up in bed, panting heavily as flashes of his nightmare replay in his head, making him squeeze his eyes shut in an attempt to rid of them but immediately regretting his actions when he sees the dead body on the bridge again, but instead of Ilsa, it was you. Opening his eyes again, Ethan pushes himself off the bed and heads to your room, wanting to check in on you just to prove to himself that you were fast asleep and safe within the building. When he opened the door, he squinted to search for your figure beneath the covers, but panic rose in his chest when he realised you weren’t there. He rushed over to the bed to look for any signs of a struggle but when he found nothing, he left your room to look for anything that might clue him into your whereabouts, pausing as he walked past the doors that went out onto the balcony when he noticed a figure outside and when he focused, he realised it was you.

At first, Ethan’s instinct was to head out onto the balcony and scold you for disappearing without letting him know but just as he reached for the door handle, he took a step back and allowed himself to gather his thoughts. Had his nightmare not awoken him and made him want to check on you, you would’ve simply remained out on the balcony until you felt ready to come back in and he would’ve woken up in the morning none the wiser. You hadn’t left the safe house. You just needed a moment. After taking a deep breath, Ethan opens the door carefully before stepping out onto the balcony and closing the door behind him. You didn’t turn to face him, your gaze remained fixed on the stars that had provided you endless comfort night after night and when Ethan stepped closer, he noticed the tear tracks on your cheeks.

“Couldn’t sleep?” He asks softly, resting his forearms against the cool metal railings and joining you in looking up at the sky.

“Every time I tried; I saw Ilsa.” You mumble, blinking as another few tears roll down your cheeks. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Ethan turn his head to look at you.

“I’m sorry you were there. I should’ve been there to protect you.” You hear your dad say and that sentence made you finally tear your gaze away from the sky to look at your dad who had tears of his own shining in his eyes.

“It wasn’t your fault dad. Benji told me about The Entity mimicking his voice to throw you off.” You say, a sad smile on your face as you look at him before looking up at the moon, admiring how its crescent shape shone in the darkness.

“It wasn’t your fault either. Gabriel was already two steps ahead of me when he said he was going to kill you or Ilsa. He made it practically impossible for both of you to survive by distracting me.” Ethan says softly, getting your attention once more as he watches you softly.

“But Ilsa died.” You argue, watching how Ethan nods forlornly but his eyes never lose their gentleness.

“She did. But that doesn’t mean I’d want you in her place. It was never your fault that she died.” Your dad says, reaching out to wipe the tears that had fallen down your cheeks. He catches them softly on his thumbs and swipes them away as he considers his next words.

“Ilsa knew what she was getting into. She died protecting you because Gabriel had gotten to you first. I will miss her as long as I’m alive and I will always love her, especially because she saved you.” Ethan then says, silently asking for permission to pull you into a hug which you allow him to do, clinging to him as you fight back more tears.

“I wish there was something I could’ve done to have her with us right now.” You whisper, biting down on your lip to stop more tears from falling.

“Me too, sweetheart. But we can avenge her by using the key to destroy The Entity, and after that, I’m not going to let Gabriel get away again.” Ethan swears, a hand reaching up to run through your hair before he presses a gentle kiss to the top of your head before suddenly being reminded of the injury you sustained.

“Your head, is it okay?” He asks, pulling away slightly to look at the gauze that was covering the injury.

“It’s feeling a lot better than it was.” You admit, a small smile appearing on your face as you look up at your dad who mirrors your smile.

“I’m sorry for not realising how you felt sooner. I was just overwhelmed by losing Ilsa and I let the mission get-“

“Dad, it’s okay. Getting the key was important. And I know you miss Ilsa. Your grief is valid, and I never wanted to make you feel like it wasn’t. I know I’m your daughter and you want to protect me, but you can talk to me, and I’ll try to help.” You say and instead of replying verbally, Ethan pulls you in for another hug, squeezing you gently as he plants another kiss on the top of your head.

“I love you so much, y/n.” He whispers, allowing himself to relax as he holds you safely in his arms.

“I love you too, dad.” You reply, cuddling as close to your dad as possible as you spare the night sky one last glance.

You’d be okay.

#justabigassnerd #justabigassnerd writes #lil' hunt #lil' hunt universe #mission impossible #mission impossible fallout #mission impossible dead reckoning #mission impossible rogue nation #ethan hunt mission impossible #ethan hunt #ethan hunt x reader #ethan hunt x daughter!reader #x daughter!reader #tom cruise #tom cruise mission impossible

253 notes · View notes