#ethan hunt must die

[caitlynmeow]

Don’t get me wrong Daniela is a killing machine just like her sisters but compared to them she is the weakest one. There is a line in the game but I can’t remember where it was but— it makes all the more sense that she was kept away in safety while her sisters went after Ethan.

It’s like— She loves hunting and she’s really good at at, but compared to Bela and Cassandra she still has a lot to learn and the fact that she never hunted solo adds to that. Also, even when they go hunting she knows that her sisters are around so she doesn’t take it that seriously and ends up playing with her prey which gives them a chance to escape from her (but Cassandra is usually close by going for the kill anyway)

And Bela and Cassandra let it slide, every single time. Never have any of the two older sisters ever held it against her they just let her play and have fun. Because realistically speaking, Daniela is very dangerous and threatening to any human so it’s never a problem, really. So what if she likes to play and have fun? They all encourage it and they’re always there to ensure she’s safe and no harm comes her way. She is learning a lot, and they can see her improving but she does it in her own way at her own pace.

#daniela dimitrescu #house dimitrescu #my baby #no you don’t understand how personal this is for me #she was so scared when Ethan was fighting her #unlike her sisters she was running away and tying to hide after he opened the window #bela and cassandra didn’t do this #they kept charging at him without stopping #unlike their soft baby sister #like when they go out to hunt they’re always together and she’s always with her big sisters so she doesn’t worry about much and get to #learn so much from them #but in the castle it was different she was alone and the hunt wasn’t going right at all #she was confused and downright scared #and at the end she confessed that she doesn’t want to die and it tears at me every time #must protecc Daniela at all costs #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #headcanon #bela dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu

[helyiios]

Ain’t not prayer, ain’t no God.

benji dunn/ethan hunt

post kashmir

“You’ve been wearing an awful lot of scarves and turtlenecks these days,” Ethan was jokingly noting, only just cleared from home rest for desk work. Hunley did not want to risk losing his best agent yet again, and with a total of two cracked ribs, every nurse and doctor around had decided to keep him far from the field duty, as much as possible. There was so much time one could keep agent Hunt away from the thrill, though. “It’s not particularly cold, too.”

Benji’s face is unreadable, which is odd, because he was an eager man. Someone who wore his heart on his sleeve, which was something that his friends admired and respected. The unexpected coldness in his clear irises almost made Ethan step back.

“I guess I caught a chill,” his friend finally replies, voice jovial, eyes dead. Which was unsettling, again, since nothing on his face smiled apart from his mouth. He looked like a puppet. “I’ll never get used to the chill of D.C.”

“I think they fit you,” Luther kindly adds, earning a distracted nod from Brandt. “Careful not to catch the flu, or something.”

“I’ll be fine,” Benji says, but he doesn’t laugh. He goes back to his work without another word, and Ethan frowns. He crosses the room in a few strides, closing the door behind them, trapping them in the wide office that had been commissioned for his team by higher ups.

The perks of saving the world, or something.

“Benji,” he declares, voice even, “you sure you’re okay ?”

That makes the other man smile, still cold as ever.

“Why, ‘course I am. Are you okay ?”

“What ?”

“Well, you did almost die, and y—“

“Hold up, pause,” Ethan cuts him off, raising his hands in front of him, “this isn’t about me.”

“Is it not ?”

“No !” he protests hotly, “no, it’s about—it’s about you. You’ve been off ever since I came back, or—or, I don’t know, maybe you were like that already, and I hadn’t noticed, but I just…” he drops his hands, “I worry.”

“Well,” Benji says, jaw tense, the muscle visible under the well trimmed beard, “you shouldn’t be, mate. I’m quite alright. Honest.”

“You don’t look it,” he insists, hand twitching, as if he was stopping himself from touching the other man. “You’ve lost weight, haven’t you ?”

“What ?”

“Well you—“ Ethan wets his lips, “you look…thinner. Not in a good way, you look—you look sick. Sort of.”

“That’s not a very nice thing to say,” his friend jokes, tone calm. “Yes, if you must know, I lost a couple pounds.”

“Benji, that’s not good.”

“Ethan, mate, I’m not a kid. I’ll cope.”

Without even realising, Benji’s hands had shot up to his neck, almost holding it as he coughed into his elbow. The movement seemed to pain him, and that is when it clicks for Ethan.

He reaches out, index barely brushing against the other’s covered neck, and before he can prevent it, Benji’s jerking himself away from him, eyes wide and mouth agape, breathing loudly, biting his tongue as to not scream.

His posture is slouched, and his arms are raised protectively against himself. Like an animal caught in a cage.

“Benji,” Ethan starts, slow, careful, “what’s under the turtleneck ?”

No reply. The younger man is breathing heavily, and he’s boring holes into the wall behind Ethan.

“Benji.”

“It’s nothing,” Benji lies horribly, voice cracking on the last word. “Leave it alone.”

“You’re hiding something.”

And then, Benji sneers. His face is contorted horribly, and the sharp canine appears, although briefly, and he can’t help but scoff at the other man. He looks pained.

“I’m not hiding anything. You would know, had you cared.”

“I don’t—I don’t follow,” Ethan softly says, taking a step back. “Cared about what ?”

“It wasn’t fully in the mission’s briefing, I asked Ilsa not to mention it too thoroughly, but fuck, man, it’s like you didn’t give two shits about me,” Benji laughs, and he’s running a shaky hand through his hair. “I’m wearing a turtleneck to protect my skin.”

A frown.

“Here,” he says finally, slowly peeling off the think layer of clothing from his neck. “Have a look.”

And Ethan’s heart sinks. The purple, red and yellow scars around the milk white skin, horribly clashing with each other, actually look painful. They look like the small gust of wind would make them bleed.

Benji’s finger off from his cloth, and suddenly the neck is covered in black again. Or was it dark blue ?

“Got hanged,” he explains, like he was giving Ethan the fucking weather, “by Lane. In the small house. Ilsa was tied up, she fought him, I was hanging from a rope. I think I actually lost consciousness at some point, but I don’t remember exactly. I lost weight because I’ve been drinking soups exclusively for the last month. I can’t make my throat work too much.”

“Wh—Benji, I didn’t know, I—“

“Didn’t bother to ask. You didn’t bother to ask,” Benji cruelly corrects him. “It’s alright, I guess. Others did.”

“No, this isn’t like that,” Ethan mutters, walking towards him, holding the other’s arm, “I mean I—“ he closes his eyes, “I barely looked at the reports. I know I should’ve, and that’s on me, but I was sick, and I just…”

“Ethan. I said it was okay.”

“It’s not okay, Benji. You got—fuck, you got hanged !” he almost screams out, running a hand on his face, “and as you friend, and team leader I should’ve known. I should’ve asked.”

“It’s alright,” Benji continue, voice monotonous. “You had other priorities.”

Their eyes lock. They know what he means.

“It wasn’t. A priority, I mean.”

“It sure looked like it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“This is my fifth time saying it’s okay.”

“No, Benji,” Ethan insists, his grip on his arm barely stronger, “are you getting proper treatment ?”

Benji pauses, looking at his away bashfully.

“Do you…actually treat your wounds ? Do you eat the soup ?”

His questions are met by silence.

“Benji.”

“I was busy,” the other lies again.

“Christ,” Ethan swears, dropping his hand and grabbing Benji’s, “is it okay if I come by tonight ? To make you soup ?”

His friend almost laughs at this.

“Why the fuck would you come round my place to make me soup ?”

“Because you’re not taking care of yourself !”

“It really doesn’t ma—“

“It matters to me !” the other man clamours, “I wasn’t here for you ! I should’ve—God, Benj. I should’ve been there. I messed up. Let me help you with this much.”

“It’s whatever,” Benji shrugs, pretending like his ears and cheeks weren’t burning up. “It’s not that bad.”

“They look almost infected.”

“I don’t think rope burns can get infected,” he retorts, but finally settles on sighing.

“Sure, and I don’t want to test the theory,” Ethan counters, still holding his hands. “It’s almost 6pm. Let’s get out of here, yeah ? I’ll make you a great soup. I’m a decent cook.”

“You’re probably better than I am.”

“You know how to cook pasta, right ?”

“Sure. And rice. In a rice cooker.”

“That’s…a beginning,” his friend offers, smiling softly. “I’m sorry again.”

“I know you are.”

“You matter to me, Benji.”

“I know,” he lies.

“You don’t.”

“I do, I just—“ Benji shrugs, “tend to forget it. Or something. Anyway, weren’t we getting out of here ?”

“I’ll prove it to you,” Ethan adds, eyes beautiful and shining with genuine passion. “That I care.”

Benji doesn’t answer, but the way Ethan’s fingers curl around his tells enough.

#mission impossible #mission impossible fic #benthan #benji dunn #ethan hunt

[odetoviscera]

Liveblogging Mission: Impossible, I Guess

alright let’s start with FOR THE RECORD this is ENTIRELY the fault of @leupagus, who always does this to me, i swear to god i have been onboarded to more media by this villain (affectionate)’s posts than any other, so goddamnit it here we go MISSION: IMPOSSIBLE I GUESS

I GOT A PARAMOUNT+ SUBSCRIPTION FOR THIS AND BY GOD I’M GONNA BLOG ABOUT IT

warning: liveblogging below.

FIRST MOVIE. 1996. I AM SIX YEARS OLD. I DO NOT WATCH THIS FILM CONTEMPORANEOUSLY FOR OBVIOUS REASONS. i have a vague memory of watching it at some point in my teens, but remember almost nothing except a vague impression of like. A Claustrophobic Hallway. might not be from this movie. i’ll call it out if it’s real!

OH my god the paramount military drum roll is alternating left and right channel in my headphones. brain is flustered. inauspicious beginning.

(dead prostitute even less auspicious beginning.)

(undead prostitute/agent?)

ah I see they are spying on Russian Rocky Balboa and the (un)dead prostitute is a plant.

OH Tom Cruise is the cleaner, I was wondering why he wasn’t in the room with all the surveillance equipment. hang on, did MI INVENT the Suspiciously Lifelike Plastic Mask Gag? also yes that was the least horrific screengrab i could manage.

so undead prostitute and Mr. Cruise clearly have Chemistry. I do sort of wish undead prostitute’s first lines had not been in a ridiculous baby voice lol.

OPENING CREDITS. god, that was the logo? very b-average middle school powerpoint presentation. wait, tom cruise was a producer on this? on the FIRST one? damn, this really is the man’s anchor franchise.

these opening credits have TV Show vibes-- you know, “here’s a bunch of split-second clips of future episodes” except all for one movie. which is... oh right, movies used to be under 2 hours.

is this how we did movies on flights back in the day? a stewardess walks around with a tray of cassettes like she’s shilling the in-flight snacks??? nowadays to pull this stunt you’d have to have a coded conversation with a chatbot and convince it you know which squares contain stop signs before it would deliver your self-destructing message.

also the contrasting formality of codewords and passphrases and top-secret clearances and shit (displayed where any passing passenger could see it walking to the bathroom MY GUY WHERE IS YOUR OPSEC)-- paired with the Voice On The Radio calling mr. phelps JIM several times is kind of wild. everything is simultaneously deadly serious national security threat and “two dads discussing their respective divorces at a barbeque”. also i can’t tell them apart yet and their hair is too similar, which of these lady agents is undead prostitute and is it claire, jim’s wife (which, btw, seems like a conflict of interest) bc if so the divorce thing may be more literal, tom “ethan hunt” cruise was getting pretty soft-boy handsy with her face

mid-briefing YEP UNDEAD PROSTITUTE IS THE WIFE, also in person it’s very clear how much younger she is than jim, wonder how that relationship came about. also also SEEDS OF SUSPICION sown about why jim is always swanning off on “recruiting assignments” and the team doesn’t know where he is during these times. also maybe i’m paranoid I DID READ THE POSTS @leupagus

"if they're exposed, they'll be executed." bit of a buzzkill there jim

so much intra-team flirting! you’d think that would be counter-regulations but i guess jim is married to one of his operatives so the rules must be pretty lax lol

okay no mr. hacker/the team q making ethan a stick of EXPLOSIVE GUM when ethan has been chewing gum this ENTIRE set of scenes during the planning of the op-- that is a piss-take, lol. that is a loving piss-take. this is “here you dumb bastard i made something in your colour” energy. JUST DON’T CHEW IT. i’m love them. i know they die and i will be upset about it.

the first-person perspective is fascinating film-making. (obviously i, obsessive video game nerd, am making immediate parallels to video games that won’t come out for another half decade or so, lol.) this feels so disjointed and claustrophobic, though-- it’s a narrower FOV than you usually see in a first-person perspective, and we don’t have any of his peripheral vision. being trapped in ethan’s head (or more correctly, i suppose, in the camera on his glasses) seeing only what’s in his field of vision for these scenes is making me overanalyze everything lol. i feel like half the guests are staring at him.

oop, meanwhile jack is fighting elevators. i worry for my boy. i have known him five minutes. i should not have learned he had a name other than “mr. hacker” now i’m invested.

dslkfhas;ldkfhas;lkh stop roasting him ethan he’s in an elevator shaft! on a 1996 laptop!

elevator/spy tetris

oh my god this mark had a FLOPPY DISK on his person. the 90s were insane.

The Flirting Continues

ah, the classic Lover’s Embrace Distraction. kind of interesting to see this done with sarah, who is NOT ethan's flirtatious love interest (that's claire; sarah has something maybe going somewhere someday with jack, hypothetically) honestly it kind of reinforces that this is very much just an "it's part of my day job" move for them, i like it. and they both move into it very fluidly, without discussion or hesitation-- it's a standard play.

oh noooo jack. “i don’t have control” says jim, man who just had control. HMM I HAVE DOUBTS YOU ASSHOLE. :(((

…hang on, is the drunk laughing couple the pair i clocked staring at ethan earlier in the night or am i hallucinating bc i can’t tell actors apart

ooooh, ethan’s going off book. admittedly the book is bad but still, bad form.

“they’re covering this frequency, cut all radio communication” mmkay except what’s your evidence of that, bc we’ve seen nothing to indicate that’s the case-- jack was killed where he was supposed to be during the whole op, and you could have been spotted and shadowed from the safehouse. none of that had to be gleaned from radio communications

Convenient Les Miz River Death. also the angle on that gun ethan saw in his little camera watch was pretty sus, but he's under a lot of stress, so i won't hold it against him for not noticing.

ethan, babe, how you gonna call an abort right after ignoring an abort, of course she’s not listening to you. (however, heartbreaking: the tiny little “god!” when he takes off running back to sarah. guy is having the worst night of his life and it’s just getting started.)

WELL THERE GOES CLAIRE AND HANNAH

sarah's still following the mark so i assume she was too far away to hear that. and i KNEW there was something shifty with the drunk couple

damn the mark is getting got too. aaaand finally sarah. full house.

EVERYBODY got fucked on this op

kdfjal;skdhf;lakh god idk if i’m even supposed to trust the nice calm voice on the phone (Kittridge) like my dude ethan is focused on relaying the vital intel (little bit of shouting but the circumstances are, admittedly, DIRE AS FUCK) and you’re using your soothing kindergarten voice.

“one hour, i’ll be there myself” BITCH? HOW? YES ETHAN EXACTLY THE FUCK, WHY IS THIS GUY IN PRAGUE??? SUSPICIONS RAISED AGAIN

aquarium diner is kind of out of place/distinctive here. like, cool location, but damn, not what i’d call inconspicuous. 

i think the shock is setting in, ethan’s walking like he’s half-dead already and so far the worst that’s happened to him physically is Running A Lot.

oooh, ethan spotted something. OH OKAY the drunk pair and the embassy pair were two differently suspicious pairs lol.

extreme dutch angle on kittridge. spooky boy. not the first dutch angle we've seen so far, even in this scene, but definitely the one i've noticed the most.

oof. whole team died for Nothing. ethan’s resistance to aborting the mission was AT LEAST partly predicated on the threat that had been presented-- literally dozens, if not hundreds, of lives directly in the crosshairs if that list got out. and it’s fucking. Nothing. and as far as ethan can possibly know at this point, the only reason the WHOLE team got wiped out is that he ignored the abort. sarah, at least, he could have hypothetically saved by keeping her with him instead of sending her after the mark.

“dying slowly in america, after all, can be a very expensive proposition.” BITCH. MURDER HIM ETHAN. SET THIS WHOLE PLACE ON FIRE. anyway, this was in 1996, nice to see capitalism hasn’t improved at all in nearly thirty years. doing great. oh the explosive gum, YES BABE, jack’s last gift to you! blow a bitch up!

“kittridge, you’ve never seen me very upset” ooooh the VENOM. ethan has been kind of a kitten so far-- soft boy, very few stunts actually! kind of a jokes boy! he’s a PERFORMANCE ARTIST, his role has been Wear The Mask and play a specific part. he is, in leverage terms, the SOPHIE, not the eliot. we have not actually seen a SINGLE instance of real violence from him yet-- even taking out Russian Rocky Balboa was with a drugged drink that sarah delivered.

alright admittedly blowing up the aquarium was probably the better move but i would have liked to see kittridge get it in the face

also holy FUCK ethan can run

now here's a logistical question: does this count as an Ethan Stunt? bc so far he hasn't done any of the characteristic No One Else Would Do This shit that is famously his hallmark. i don't think this does count, honestly-- it's fairly low stakes by the standards of an Ethan Stunt, and although obviously the fish are gonna be upset about it, the overall risk to ethan himself is not high. worst case scenario if he couldn't outrun the flood was getting arrested. i'm gonna call this Typical Spy Nonsense unless someone can convince me otherwise.

listen i know all this counter-espionage shit like crunching the lightbulb to make a broken glass noise trap and unscrewing the hall light is shit he was taught in Spy School however i would like to forward that my IMMEDIATE thought whenever he does something clever is just OH MY BOY IS SO SMART

i have trauma-bonded with ethan hunt. it took exactly half an hour. goddamn it, i get it now @leupagus

And Now He Has A Gun, let’s see if he uses it.

okay the emergency money not being in the safehouse is another dick move by jim.

job 314… job 3:14?

OH MY GOD IT IS

seriously is this what the internet was like in 1996. i was an aol kid, i missed the usenet era, but i also don’t trust hollywood to know what the internet was like lol

MY BOY IS SO SMART

although doing all this in what must be the compromised safe house maybe is less so

here begin the PTSD Nightmares

oh shit! claire’s not dead! alright maybe the gun wasn’t such a great addition to the inventory lol although i’ll given ethan points for what looks, to my very untrained eyes, like a pretty solid firing posture. maybe got his elbows locked a little but he’s Stressed.

the Aggressively Sexual Frisking i could do without. very 90s though lol, and i will forgive ethan’s behaviour bc he’s having a Very bad night and claire’s shock isn’t helping with his justifiable paranoia. STILL. BE BETTER.

claire still using that baby voice. ma’am please speak with your whole chest, you sound like a toddler, i can’t take you seriously.

Spy Shenanigans ahead. back in ethan’s limited POV for a bit! i like the framing on the pickup car responding to the match.

ooh, max is a maxine.

dutch angle on max. they like that technique a lot. and a very tight framing. 

fkjha;djfh;lksh MA’AM. you haven’t even CLEANED THE BLOOD OFF, you’re gonna gunk up your disk reader

imf sure is efficient-- okay no i love the cleaning lady just “fuck it, i keep vacuuming”

Fucking Kittridge. this man has the most smarmy affect upon this earth outside of an actual british butler in a murder mystery. also what looks like an extremely fake tan. hate his guts. wish him death.

ethan has been 100% Manic Grin at max since the mask came off and i am not sure how much of that is a front and how much is ethan running at 100% capacity on 10% fuel. let this man have a nap.

lol max likes him. he’s Charmed her. “aggressive, but playful” is her type lol.

god are claire and ethan STILL staying in the safehouse? i mean I GUESS at this point imf must not know the location but this still seems dicey.

i get the impression claire actually loved jim, which makes this whole setup Wild. The Chemistry is there with her and ethan, but clearly nothing has actually come of it at this point, and if/when it does, it will be totally justifiable bc she is, to her knowledge, A WIDOW. really played yourself there, jimbo.

oooh, they’re gonna hook up with other disavowed ex-spies. …however, i will observe that it seems ULTRA FUCKING STUPID to keep a list of the people you’ve explicitly decided to cut ties with??? isn’t the point of disavowing/burning an agent that they can’t be legally tied to your organization? imf competency varying wildly lol

damn, they’re getting fucking leon on the team lol. hang on i have to google something-- yes, leon: the professional came out two years before mission impossible, this joke works.

ethan as mission planner is Much ballsier than he was as a point man/Face lol

oh my god luther’s Hacker Names lol

luther the fact that you know this much about the system already suggests you’ve thought about it lol

ethan: i’m hiring you for an impossible job the team: no such thing ethan:  Let Me Explain

luther looks like his hopes and dreams are crashing down around his ears during this security breakdown lol

Theme Music!

we love an Emergency Services Scam. big bulky costume and everybody’s in too much of a panic to think too clearly.

oop, krieger’s a loose cannon, lol. (leon!) guess ethan is still hoping to get his job back, doesn’t want to Kill Coworkers. understandable. holding out hope for an exception being made for kittridge.

i wondered if this vent crawl might count as the first proper Ethan Stunt, but krieger’s doing it with him, so i think it’s still on the side of “a comparatively sane operative would do this”.

sidebar, tom cruise in this glasses headset getup is giving me farscape john crichton vibes, which is baffling given john crichton does not wear glasses.

oh we TRAP the laser instead of turning it off. Clever.

krieger sneeze into your ELBOW my guy.

and this is the iconic Hanging From The Ceiling Scene! oh holy shit i didn’t realize krieger was there to HOLD ETHAN’S BODY WEIGHT, damn.

excellent treatment of the tension with the silent shot and only luther’s whispered warnings. ethan is remaining REMARKABLY phlegmatic.

holy shit this guy would be the most annoying officemate. i mean i know he’s been poisoned but still. get thee to a cubicle nowhere near me.

that flip! my boy is BALLETIC

OOOOH NO WHY ARE THERE MICE IN THE VENTS OF THIS SUPER SECURE AGENCY. MOUSE THEY GOT LASERS HERE WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING

df;lakddf;laklsh;lk aaaand the slip

excellent handling of the tension again

legit how did ethan get his hand into position for this catch with so little space

KRIEGER YOU DUMB BITCH SECURE YOUR KNIFE

and now there actually is an evacuation! lol. back to the safehouse.

krieger is gonna be a problem if you don’t communicate, ethan. ah, yes, and here we see him proving me right. we know a bastard when we see one.

MY BOY. IS SO. SMART.

i’ll be surprised if we keep working with krieger lol he doesn’t seem like he takes an insult well

OH HO. DRAKE HOTEL IN THE GIDEON BIBLE. the penny drops.

oh, i think ethan’s suspicious of claire again. jim’s wife, after all.

oop! kiss! but is it legit or is it to throw him off his game?

man, no one play poker with ethan hunt.

“i’m not gonna let this get out in the open.” luther for best boy

oh my god kittridge you fuckwit

seriously ethan do a murder you’ve earned it

holy shit is that jim in the phone booth next to ethan???

IT IS

blaming kittridge. couldn’t throw a nicer asshole under the bus, lol

oh excellent touch with ethan envisioning it with the knowledge that it’s actually jim. doesn’t fall for it for a second, but plays along, and lets the audience in on it. we get to see exactly how smart ethan is, without a doubt, but jim doesn’t get clued in. smart, smart movie.

oh shit! krieger was the assassin on the op! i missed that completely

and now ethan's debating claire’s involvement with himself.

my poor boy looks like he’s gonna have a breakdown right here at the table

“you got a lousy marriage and 62 grand a year” first of all, bitch, your wife is extravagantly attractive and doesn’t seem to be an idiot or an asshole, your marriage is probably fine; second of all, in the year of any lord 2023, NEVERMIND in 1996 money, i would kill for 62 grand a year. shut the fuck up.

okay, jim keeping the secret from claire PROBABLY clears her

love ethan continuing to write to max with bible verses bc she thought it was fun the first time lol

tasteful fade to black lol

honestly why are they bothering with having the shade pulled down to hide jim’s face lol

dlfkahsd;lkfhas;lk max enjoys ethan SO MUCH lol. i am undecided on whether she wants him carnally but i suspect she wouldn’t complain if he suggested it

oh no! overly helpful train attendant gave the game away!

oooh, max is playing both sides. unsurprising lol

i’m here for claire’s Itty Bitty Skirt.

oh shit! she DOES know about jim! damn it claire, i believed in you! fortunately ethan is more suspicious than me lol

“having tasted the goods” fucking classy, jim

eyyyy! foiled by the camera glasses! can’t believe i have to be team kittridge. offensive.

well, there goes claire. and ethan still isn’t quite at full Action Man, so he gets the shit knocked out of him.

okay i think ethan climbing the back of a bullet train with no assistive devices is his actual first Ethan Stunt. this is where this shit starts to get beyond “spy shenanigans” and into “i have no time to plan and no one else to rely on, so my improvisation is the WILDEST SHIT YOU’VE EVER IMAGINED”

fkha;ldkfha;lskhdl;kh he never did actually use that gun outside of pointing it at claire Once or perform any other acts of violence, so ethan’s first confirmed attempted murder is tying a helicopter to a train to fuck kreiger. of course.

the gum again! ethan did jack give you a whole PACK of that. also i’d like to point out that, while the circumstances are certainly warranting it-- he hasn’t got his hands free, he’s holding on to a helicopter-- when jack first presents ethan with the explosive gum, ethan handles it like it is a Very Delicate Grenade, and now he’s pulling it out of the packaging with his teeth. we are definitely past ethan caring much about his personal safety.

ethan legit came like. two inches from death.

wonder if luther’s gonna get reinstated for his part in this stunt

sounds like yes!

aaaand the chatbot stewardess is back and not taking no for an answer. guess ethan doesn't get to retire after all.

-----

ALRIGHT. LIVEBLOG COMPLETE. Claustrophobic Hallway never appeared, although there was a generally claustrophobic feeling to the whole film due to the very tight shots sometimes. i was haunted by the vague sense that i should know more about this movie than i did, lol.

in summary: ethan hunt is such a good boy and he is having SUCH A BAD TIME. literally at the end of his harrowing revenge/name-clearing adventure he just gets on a plane to england-- maybe back to those london apartments he liked? seems like it would have bad memories now, which has some interesting implications for how ethan deals with his traumas, namely “go roll around in them for a while and see if they start to feel comfortable instead of horrifying”. he’s so disillusioned with the whole pack of them that the tells luther he can’t imagine why he’d be doing it if he went back, and promises to remember luther as “disreputable”.

something i noticed while going back to get some screengrabs to illustrate a few of these points-- in the team briefing, the whole team is never framed together around the table. in fact, i believe this is the only time we’ll even see them all in the same frame. in the opening shots, sarah is on the other side of the room, pulling the shade down. claire is sitting next to ethan, and ALWAYS finds a way to be very close to ethan outside of the actual operations, which leads me to wonder how much of the Chemistry™ was being manufactured even this early on (and, by extension, earlier than the film shows us.) also poor hannah gets almost no job on this op and almost no characterization in this movie. they could have cut her out entirely and nothing would have been lost.

also in retrospect there were more clues about claire’s culpability-- she tells ethan later (during the Aggressively Sexual Frisking) that she walked away when the abort was called, but we SAW HER sitting in the car, watching ethan speedwalk past her with a frown, after she said she had already complied with that order. ethan says this when he's holding her at gunpoint, and she never actually produces a compelling explanation, she just kind of hustles us all past that by getting teary-eyed! excellent manipulation! she already knew the plan at that point, and presumably if ethan had complied with the command to abort the mission, he would have been somewhere else that claire and jim had predicted he’d be for their frame job to work. possibly claire’s Wiles would have come into things at some point there, instead of the 4am Frisk that ended up happening.

also also not to be "ethan hunt is feminine-coded" on main, but ethan hunt has quite a few Cinematically Feminine traits, especially in this action spy genre. he is the subject of violence, not the performer of it. he runs AWAY from confrontations instead of engaging them. his most successful grifts are Conversations and Disguises, and he mostly uses those tools to de-escalate. claire tells him how many bullets he has for his TWO GUNS at one point, and he never fires a single one. he is blind-folded, taken to the villain's lair, charms the villain with his good looks and witty banter. his one moment of really Macho Aggression is in a panic after a PTSD nightmare, is ultimately defused, and never recurs. will be interested to see how this develops in further films.

10/10, if ethan hunt was a dog he would be a border collie.

#will tag all of these with #ODE TO IMPOSSIBLE #so that my unfortunate followers can blacklist this saga if they so desire lol #mission: impossible

[thethistlegirl]

Character Playlists Masterpost

So I have a thing whenever I get into a new fandom about finding songs that match the characters. I have...a few different current ones, as might be rather evident, so I'm going to make a list of songs I associate with the characters! If I've made an edit already associated with that song I'll link it to the song title. And this is going to get YouTube playlists made specifically for each one (Right now they're all jumbled in one big playlist called 'Write Things Heather', yes I am passive aggressive to myself in playlist naming) that I'll link to the character name!

Bill Cage (Edge of Tomorrow):

How Far We’ve Come - Matchbox Twenty

I Melt With You - Modern English

Must Have Done Something Right - Relient K

Joan of Arc - Arcade Fire

Love Don’t Die - The Fray

Sugar You - Oh Honey

The Proof of Your Love - For King and Country

Star Sky - Two Steps from Hell

Spin - Lifehouse

Meet Me on the Battlefield - SVRCINA

Ethan Hunt (Mission Impossible):

Touch - Sleeping at Last

Let Her Go - Passenger

Renegades - X Ambassadors

On Top of the World - Imagine Dragons

Carry On - Fun

Flares - The Script

Eight - Sleeping at Last

Back in Black - AC/DC

Jack Reacher:

Mercury - Sleeping at Last

Take it Easy - The Eagles

Bless the Broken Road - Rascal Flatts

Desperado - The Eagles - Fic: All Your Highs and Lows

Heart Like a Truck - Lainey Wilson

Ramble On - Led Zeppelin

Fast Car - Tracy Chapman

Life is a Highway - Rascal Flatts

Here I Go Again - Whitesnake

Heads Carolina, Tails California - Jo Dee Messina

Still the Same - Bob Seger

May I Miss You - Family of the Year

Hit the Road Jack - Ray Charles

Wait in the Truck - Hardy

Boulevard of Broken Dreams - Green Day - Fic: My Shallow Heart's the Only Thing That's Beating

Devil's Backbone - The Civil Wars

Broken - Lifehouse

Hero - Family of the Year

Oh What a Life - American Authors

Jack Harper:

Nine - Sleeping at Last

Earth - Sleeping at Last

Pluto - Sleeping at Last

You Wouldn’t Like Me - Sleeping at Last

Rocketman - Elton John

(Why all my Jack Harper songs are Sleeping at Last I have no idea other than that the whole band's sound just basically has Oblivion vibes-edit: now it's just most of them)

(Edit 2, I got sucked into DC Titans and have feelings about Hank so have another playlist...)

Hawk & Dove:

Shadows of the Night - Pat Benetar

Kids in America - Kim Wilde

Brighter Days - Blessing Offor

Battlefield - Jordin Sparks

21 Guns - Green Day

And if you want a feel for what my playlist for Top Gun and Maverick would be, go check out @nade2308 's gifsets because the song vibes are ALWAYS spot on!

note: @malewifebillcage I blame you entirely for how many times I listen to a song and go "oh no it's Bill and Rita"

#edge of tomorrow #bill cage #mission impossible #ethan hunt #jack reacher #jack harper #oblivion #oblivion 2013 #dc titans #hank hall #dawn granger #character playlists #playlist

[oddyssey77]

Endless - Reyna

POV Reyna Avilla Ramírez Arellano 

"HELLO?" I yelled.

I scanned my surroundings, hoping for any signs of life, but it was impossible to see anything through the endless wheat and maize. I was standing in a field of tall, high-grown crops.

"ANYONE?!" I screamed even louder. 

It was useless though. I analysed my situation, only there wasn't much to analyse other than the facts that I didn't know what happened, where I was, or why I was here. I thought about the last thing I remembered; The stone warriors attacking, Artemis leaving because she couldn't get involved, the Romans and I getting our butts whooped by Ethan Nakamura, running into Thalia, and finally, falling into a bottomless pit that opened up, right beneath our feet.

I didn't feel like I was in too much danger, that was until the arrows started flying.

SWOOP!

One arrow landed right where I was standing. I unsheathed my sword and prepared for a battle. I quickly realised that there were far too many to handle. So I ran in the opposite directions of the arrows and eventually got clipped in the arm by an arrow shot with excellent precision. I wanted to yank it out but that could take too long and I didn't want to risk losing any blood. 

Whoever was was hunting me had been trained well. They had an excellent strategy. But I was fast. They were only moving in one direction so I had the chance to escape. I begun moving further and further left as I ran, until I was right at the edge of their field of vision. I crouched instantly, slowly rustling through endless stems of wheat.

Once I had traveled far enough away, I stopped sneaking and began running as far away from them as I possibly could, all while trying to ignore the writhing pain in my elbow, where I had been shot.

THUMP!

I tripped over something soft and lumpy that I hadn't been able to see before due to all the wheat. I crawled over to investigate. I reached my arm out, feeling around for the lump and placed my hand on it. It writhed and wiggled until I realised that this lump wasn't just any lump, it was a body. And this body wasn't just any body, It was Thalia.

She looked over to me with a weak expression. 

"Reyna?"

"Yeah, what happened to you?" I asked. She was clutching her side where it looked like something had bit her. 

"G-g-gorgons," she gasped, pointing into the depths of wheat. I ruffled around in there until I evidently found two dead Gorgons sprawled on the grass. They reminded me of the attack on the Roman camp where Percy slayed the gorgons in the river.

"Nice job Grace," I said to her.

She staggered to her feet, with my support and turned to face me.

"Light work," she chuckled, "And don't call me Grace."

I let her lean on me and we made our way over to the two slain gorgons.

"Why haven't they evaporated yet," I asked her 

"I don't know."

She crouched down to examine the bodies. I watched as she brushed the snakes out of the way and uncovered a large metal plate on the back of the gorgon's skull. Her head lifted and her eyes flashed me a concerned look.

"These aren't real gorgons." Her tone darkened, "They're automatons."

"What could that mean?" I awaited a response but one never came. Thalia's face turned paler than snow and her arms began to tremble. I caught her just in time as she slowly lost consciousness and her breathing shallowed.

"THALIA?!" I yelled. Thalia and I had never really gotten along but I certainly didn't want her to die. I dipped her in my arms a bit and her hair dropped down into a pool of the gorgon's blood. This gave me an idea. 

I examined the bite in her side and realised that the Gorgons must have fatally poisoned her during the fight. I rush to the body of the nearest one and find the right side of it. 

"I'm sorry Thalia." I muttered as I tilted her head toward the body, opened her mouth, and placed it on the body, allowing the blood to flow right into her mouth. I hoped upon hope that It was the right side that heals and the left that poisons. If not, Thalia would be surely dead.

First, I felt a pulse, then, movement, her breathing returned and her skin regained color. She subconsciously began sucking on the side of the Gorgon, trying to get more of the blood. Then her eyes opened with a look of disgust on her face

"BLEGHH!" she choked, removing her mouth from the monster, clearly revolted. "That's terrible!" 

I went to help her up but she didn't seem to need me. She was pumped full of energy and ready to go. All of her scratches, wounds and bruises healed and she looked like she could fight an army.

~Some Time Later~

"OMG," Thalia shrieked in excitement.

"It's a clearing!" I said, amazed.

We were standing in the only patch of this field that had not been covered in wheat. It was a perfect circle and in the center was a rock. Thalia rushes over and sits down on the rock comfortably. But I stayed where I was.

"Come on, Reyna," she beckoned, "Don't tell me you're not tired."

"I am. It's just..."

"Just what?"

"Something just isn't right," I said uncertainly.

"Don't be such a Goldilocks!" Thalia replied kind of drunkenly 

"What?"

"A Goldilocks. You know too little, too much, just right. Have you not heard that story."

"Thalia, you are not making any sense."

"The story is about three little piggies. Wait. No. That's not right. It's about..." Thalia's voice was slurring and trailing off as if she was something that the mortals would refer to as... High.

"Thalia!" I said urgently, "What's wrong with you?!"

"Have you got any more of that Gorgon juice? It was reeeeaaalllly good." 

"I think you've had just enough Gorgon juice." I said definitively while I sat her back down on the rocks.

I looked around, trying to find what had seemed off about this clearing before. It had a certain ethereal aspect to it. Godly almost. Then I spotted something shiny in my peripheral. I turned back to the rock and noticed a bronze plating with something engraved on it. I examined it closer but bit my lip when I saw that the writing is in Greek.

Ὁ Δικαιόπολις βραδέως ἐκβαίνει έκ τοῦ οἴκου.

"Thalia? Can you come over here?" She looks down at me, still high, with a look that told me she was offended that I would even suggest she get off her comfy rock for a quick second.

"What does that mean?" I asked her, gesturing at the golden Greek engravings.

"That is a bronze plate with golden, Greek engravings Reyna, I'd expect you to know that." 

"OMG Thalia, the writing! What does it say?!!

"Oooooh. Gotcha. It says...  Ὁ Δικαιόπολις βραδέως ἐκβαίνει έκ τοῦ οἴκου."

"IN ENGLISH THALIA!!! ENGLISH!!!" 

"Oh. It means Shrine of Demeter." She replied, very casually as if I hadn't just broken the sound barrier getting her to simply break the language barrier.

"Hmm. Demeter," she pondered absently, "I met Demeter once. Such a bitch."

I tackled Thalia to the ground making her start hitting me like crazy as if I was the enemy. I wish I had known the Gorgon's blood would do this to her. Maybe I wouldn't have let her consume as much of it if I had. 

"Why would you say something like that?!"

"Like what?" she asked innocently.

"You can't call a goddess things like that!" I hushed urgently, "Bad things can happen."

"Yeah well what's the Goddess of Agriculture going to do? Decompose my apple before I get the chance to eat it?"

"THALIA! WE ARE LITERALLY TRAPPED IN A FIELD OF AGRICULTURE!!!"

"Alright, Alright, No need to..."

FLASH!

"I am A WHAT!"

Thalia and I remain blinded for another few seconds before the light cleared to reveal the short, chubby, fruity goddess that I knew as Demeter. Instinctively, I bowed and forced Thalia down with me.

"She meant no disrespect at all, I swear!"

"No, No, NO! I meant all of the disrespects little lady!" Thalia announced, "You are a hippy little bitch!"

Demeter's face turned as purple as a plum and the wheat around us began to shake. I made a silent prayer to Zeus for him to make his daughter shut the hell up but the lord of the sky did not come through.

"You are a TERRIBLE Goddess! You'd rather stand here and argue with teenagers than actually go out and DO YOUR JOB! No wonder the entire agricultural, farming industry is dying. Oh and one more thing, You're a short, fat, GREEN BEAN!"

I bent my head and prepared for the little goddess to explode.

"You are one of Artemis's ones aren't you?"

 

"Yes. She is and she is very sorry" I said respectfully. 

"Shut it YOU!" she snapped back at me. But her face softened when she turned back to Thalia.

"Never in all my years has someone told me how I can be better. And I must admit, it is refreshing! Thank you Thalia Grace, for being honest with me. With Pan gone and everything, it has been hard to hold together. But I suppose, if we want to save the agricultural aspect of our world, then we have to fight for it."

"Anytime, little lady." Thalia replied, "And while you're at it, how would you feel about further promoting the growth of mariju..." 

I kicked Thalia before she could finish that sentence which caused her to go back to hitting me. I swatted Thalia away and returned my focus to the Goddess. 

"Demeter, How can we get out of here?"

"Ah, I suppose I owe you an explanation, don't I? Well how about this? You're not getting one! But... I can offer you directions."

"Please, anything that could help us." I begged

"If you walk in that direction for a few miles, you will find a crevasse. There, you will assemble for answers."

I wanted to ask what Assemble for Answers meant but I had a feeling she wouldn't explain. 

"Goodbye, Thalia Grace, daughter of Zeus and lieutenant of Artemis. And you." She nodded distastefully to me as she said that last part. Demeter rises into the air from the rocks and flashes into her true form as I force Thalia's eyes away from her.

"Goodbye Green Bean!" she yelled as Demeter vanished.

We trundled along in silence for about 30 minutes and Thalia wasn't getting much better. She noticed the wound on my arm with an arrow sticking out of it. I had completely about the arrow and I had come to ignore the pain of it.

"That's cool!" she said, "I have one of those."

"No you don't Thalia," I said impatiently, showing her her own arms. It felt like trying to talk to someone with a serious case of Alzheimer's 

"No silly, not there." she said pulling her arms away from me, "Here." She had reached back to her quiver and pulled an arrow. I gasped when I realised how identical they are. The only difference was the engravings. One had Thalia written on it and the other had the name Nightshade.

"Isn't Zoe dead?" I asked her. A tear stroked down Thalia's face.

"Gods, I miss Zoe. She was such a funny bunny." 

"Thalia, if Zoe is dead, how could she have shot me?"

SWOOP!

I take cover as more arrows flew. Thalia leapt back in shock when a figure emerged from the crops.

She was a huntress. Her dark brown hair lay in a plaid down on her shoulder

"Z...Zz...Zoe?" Thalia shuddered.

"Hey, Thalia," But Zoe didn't seem friendly.

Thalia looked into Zoe's eyes and all of a sudden she looked fully sober.

HYAH!

Zoe went to smack Thalia across the face with her bow but Thalia caught it in her hands. 

"Zoe, It's me!" she yelled but it was no use. It was like she was in some kind of a trance. I jump up to help Thalia and tackle Zoe off of her. When I stand up to fight however I am interrupted by-

THWACK!

I feel the flat of a gold blade knock me off balance and I rolled to the ground. I hear a voice from behind me chuckle.

"Hey Reyna." My whole body stops working at the sound of his voice. The voice of Jason Grace

~Flashback~

"I can't wait to get back home," Jason said reminiscently, "If I stand here another day I may just collapse."

"Same." I replied, "You'd think they'd find a new dragon by now."

Jason and I were standing in front of a tree sprouting golden apples with our swords drawn. The garden of the Hesperides was looking beautiful today, a lot of that was because Jason was in it. We weren't expecting a fight, simply preparing for one just in case. That was the job of a warrior and Jason was the best one I knew. Looking at him stand there heroically like that made my lips tremble. I knew that Piper had won Jason fair and square but still, I was never going to get over him.

"Can I just say it is incredible that you are willing to do this for us," One of the Hesperides chimed, "Ever since the dragon fell ill we have searched tirelessly for a replacement and this morning we found one."

"That's great!" Jason stated, "When can it get here?"

"Well it was in Mexico so it will take it aa few more hours to make it up here."

"That's alright. We will stand guard as long as you need."

Jason looked annoyed that I said that. I could tell he was getting tired of standing out here with me guarding the Golden tree of the Hesperides. He wanted to see Piper again. I felt selfish to want to spend more time with him.

"Well here is a letter that we feel commissions our deepest gratitude for your service." The little girl reached out and handed me a letter. I began to open it while she trundled away down the hill.

"What does it say?" Jason asked.

Dear Reyna Ramírez Arellano and Jason Grace.

You and all demigods have torn apart our world for thousands of years. It is a problem that needs to be addressed.

Starting with you, all demigods and those who aid them will be slaughtered. This will be your final reckoning. 

The King shall rise again.

And say hello to Ebony for us.

Jason and I glanced at each other in horror as we read the letter. 

"Who's Ebony?" Jason asked. I look up to the sky with the most fear I had ever felt.

"Ebony is the dragon."

ROARRR!

FSSHHHH!

Flames danced through the sky as the dragon who had never truly been ill swooped down and went for the kill on Jason. 

"NOOOO!" I yelled as I stabbed my sword deep into the dragons throat. But it barely pierced the scales. The dragon shook me off and my sword remained in its neck. I regained consciousness and tried to think of a way to get to my sword without getting killed. I could hear Jason fighting with the dragon but I knew that even he wouldn't be able to kill it. 

His sword flew off the side of the hill and he backed away from the dragon nervously. 

"What do we do?" I asked him.

"Run." he replied. I never liked to retreat but I felt like this was the necessary opportunity. My mistake was never checking if Jason had been running with me. Once I had gotten far away. I turned to where Jason should've been standing. When I see that he isn't there a wave of dread envelops me. I turn around and spot him in a one on one with the dragon, up on the hill.

"JASON!" I yelled uselessly. I ran toward him but I knew I couldn't make it in time. My brave praetor had only told me to run to get me out of there. He thought he could face this on his own. He couldn't. Jason made eye contact one last time with me as the dragon's jaws split him clean in half and slurped the rest up.

"NOOOOO!!!" 

~End of Flashback~

"Jason please," I begged, "It's me, Reyna. What's wrong with you."

Zoe and Jason were not acting themselves. Their skin was paler than the moon. Their eyes were as dark as the night. Whatever had happened to them had sent them into rage mode because they would not stop fighting us. 

"DIE!!!" Jason yelled. Between Jason and Zoe, Jason looked a lot worse. His tunic was tattered and his hair burnt up as if he had been electrocuted. It looked like he had only just been in another fight.

I looked over to Thalia as she fought against Zoe. I could tell she didn't want to fight but she had to. I knew I had to as well I just couldn't. 

CRASH!

Jason had tried to stab me but I had twisted his sword around and whacked him with the flat of his own blade. He yelled in frustration and I took it as an opportunity to disarm him. He roared at me this time and punched me relentlessly. 

SMACK!

Jason was knocked out when I had stuck him between his eyes with the hilt of his sword. I turned to Thalia and it seemed like she had taken out Zoe as well. She looked at Jason and a tear swelled in her eyes.

"I almost forgot he was your brother, Grace."

"Don't say was Reyna. He is my brother. And don't call me Grace."

Happy Birthday Julie

This Chapter is Dedicated to Charlie.

#solangelo #pjo headcanon #the sun and the star #blood of olympus #piper mclean #the heroes of olympus #camp half blood #percy jackson fanart #rick riordan

[thenameofthisblogistalkingheads]

i think the thing I just adore now about Mission Impossible as written by Chris Macquarie is that it just really reinforces Ethan Hunt as a guy who yeah is a major kickass action hero who can beat the shit out of people but he's just got such emotional vulnerability to him that we kinda rarely see in these kinds of movies. Like we're talking about the character who faked his wife's death to make sure she got to live the life she deserved to have and then later not only made peace with her not being able to love him but was actually fine with the fact that she remarried and moved on. We're talking about the guy who refuses to let Luther (who I must importantly say; is the only character outside of Ethan who's been in all 7 movies), who he regards as his closest friend, die even though the fate of the whole world was at stake and every agent knows how expendable they are and should be in the face of the mission. Ethan Hunt is a dude who just so outwardly cares about his friends that it's refreshing to see that kind of action movie protagonist.

#still mad that they fridged ilsa tho #that sucked #mission impossible

[bearlythere]

this is the review for part 2 of my movie marathon, for mission impossible dead reckoning part 1 (ironic, i guess)

view part 1 here: indiana jones and the dial of destiny review

disclaimer by saying that i also, have not watched any of the other mission impossible movies, and only know the franchise due to tom cruise & the iconic mission impossible theme song.

right off the bat, this did not feel like a movie that lasted almost 3 hours. from the start to the end, it was a jam packed action filled movie, with nail biting stunts and impeccable timing and filmography. i can't even count the amount of times the whole theatre audibly gasped when ethan and grace were about to die (but they didn't, yay!)

the humour as well, was timed pretty well. certain habits and dialogue that the cast was written with was actually funny, using the humour to lighten what otherwise would be a pretty dark movie (world destruction and what not). and although this storyline was cut into 2 parts, part 1 & part 2, this didn't felt like a huge part of the plot was missing that could only be answered by watching part 2. this movie could totally be watched on its own, is a full story on its own - let's call it "the quest for the key". and yes, i would totally be watching part 2 to see how they would beat gabriel to the submarine.

final rating: 7.9/10. my only gripe with it was how the script threw around some technological buzzwords like sentient artificial intelligence, and air gapping, and the antagonisation of artificial intelligence. the whole premise of the movie was based on AI going sentient, most of it was based on how the "entity" already knowing how things would end due to it running all possible scenarios - which i presume is meant to be generative AI generating possible course of events. and yet, for an AI to get that powerful to predict thousands and millions of scenarios, it must have trained on truckloads of data. in today's world where we see chatgpt as a prime example of generative AI, it is a HUGE leap to conclude that "oh yes it will go sentient and cause world destruction". and to even have a human entity working for it? to those who may not have read up or have a clear understanding about how AI works, this movie might end up causing fear and panic about AI development instead (given how successful the mi franchise has been).

and of course, with its whole espionage theming the "spies" would usually have decked out tech gear, but some of the gear was really ridiculous, like the usage of a geiger counter to detect electromagnetic waves from the key. where in reality geiger counters detects and measures ionized radiation. as well as the AR glasses which ethan hunt wears to track the outline of the key - technology just hasn't gotten that far yet for this to be believable.

#bear watches #mi7 #mission impossible #mission impossible dead reckoning #mission impossible dead reckoning part 1 #artificial intelligence

[thetaoofzoe]

Fic: Ethan Hunt Must Die 1/1

Pairing: August Walker x YOU

Word Count: 10,420

Summary: You are a medic and a member of what’s left of  The Apostles. And it’s not rumour anymore. August Walker is definitely not dead. All you want to do is help him with his cause, kill those responsible for his grave injuries (and foiling his manifesto) and make Ethan Hunt pay. Falling in love with August Walker is just a given ;)

Rating: Mature to Explicit some Violence, sex and fluff and yearning and impetuous kisses, explosions and delicious August Walker.  And, this story is not as serious as it may appear, so have fun reading.

Note: If you have been around you’ve seen the original iteration of this story, but maybe not in its entirety. It was originally broken up into 10 parts as A Month of August Walker Challenge. Now, in all of its revamped glory is the complete story all in one place.  

Want to read more? Click for my Masterlist

Your contact was a pleasant woman. She’d collected you from the tiny airport in Kashmir and on the way to your destination, she’d offered to buy snack food for you from a nearby shop.

‘The cabin is fully stocked,’ she reasoned pointing to the squat building by the side of the road, ‘but in case you want a Coke or something.’

You did want a Coke in fact and you took her up on the offer. Along with a few cans of cola you grabbed other items – chocolate bars, fishing tackle, and feminine hygiene products. You didn’t know how long you were going to be out there in the middle of nowhere, and you didn’t want to use up the precious bog roll when your cycle eventually came.

The woman was leaning against the side of the battered truck and smoking a cigarette when you stepped out of the shop. Eyeing your purchases, she nodded with approval.

‘Good idea,’ she said, making a vague gesture towards you with her cigarette. ‘We didn’t think about a woman’s needs during such a long excursion. Next time. There are all sorts of painkillers in the stocks though… just so you are aware.’

She put a gloved hand on her lower belly and laughed a little.

‘I know how it can get.’

You smiled, grateful to be sharing this moment with her, woman to woman, and thanked her before getting back into the truck.

‘Is there gonna be a next time?’ you asked, sweeping the seatbelt across your chest and clicking it into place.

She didn’t look at you as she started the truck and set off down the road.

‘I hope this is the last, ‘ she said finally and as it seemed like such a struggle for her to come up with an answer that she seemed satisfied with, you didn’t continue to press the matter.

Settling into the seat, you unwrapped a chocolate bar, and with three large bites, had it stuffed into your mouth. The salty chocolate and nougat were glorious and you moulded the sweet wad into the roof of your mouth so that you could savour it with slow licks.  You folded the plastic-coated wrapper into a small square and tucked it in your jacket pocket.

The woman drove along the rough frosty mountain roads as if you two were being chased. She didn’t seem at all phased with how the truck bounced and jumped dangerously close to the edge of the cliff, as if one wrong turn of the wheel wouldn’t send the two of you plunging down into the river below.

That imagery triggered sudden rage in you.

Goddamn you, Ethan Hunt, you thought.

You wanted just two minutes alone with Hunt to make him regret having ever laid eyes on August Walker. Hunt deserved nothing but a long slow torturous death.

Ever since the incident, The Apostles had been split on what to do regarding  August Walker. Should he be left out there and forgotten? Or should his remains be recovered and given a proper burial?

The thought that there was nothing left to recover prevailed until reports that August had survived the fall started trickling in. With this new knowledge, it was impossible to prevent the uprising that voted to scour the mountains to find him. This time, your only mission was to man the cabin in the event one of the search teams found him.

‘Not far to the cabin. Ayami is apart of the search team. You know her, yes?’ asked the woman.

‘Yes. I know her.’

‘Good, Ayami planned all of this, coordinated us, and was able to pinpoint a location not far from this cabin.’

Not enough planning for a menstrual cycle, you thought, petulantly.

‘It will work out,’ she continued and nodded. ‘He will be found.’

‘This is the third time someone has,’ you made inverted commas in the air with your fingers, ‘pinpointed his location, only to run into IMF lies. We are wasting precious time. August is alive and we need to find him.’

The woman drove on in silence for a moment.

‘I agree with you, yes. I agree. But what do you suggest that we do? If not this.’

You relented and sighed. You had no idea what to do other than this.

‘If I could snap my fingers…’

You clicked your fingers and she chuckled, clicking hers as well.

‘He would be safe with us,’ she finished for you.

A half hour later, she slowed and finally stopped the truck and pointed through the windscreen at what looked like a stack of fallen trees.

‘Unfortunately, my friend,’ she said. ‘There is a way to drive up to the cabin. However, it is many, many kilometres that way and petrol for me is hard to come by right. It’s easier to drop you here and you take the trail. It’s only a few hours hike.’

You grabbed your rucksack from the foot well, reached over and one-arm hugged the woman and then got out. She did a wide circle turn around and pulled the truck up to where you stood.

‘Good luck, my friend. And take care.’

‘Take care,’ you said. ‘See you soon.’

She gave you a two-fingered salute and drove away.

**

It was cold that far up in the mountains and the beginning of the trail looked desolate. Securing your rucksack on your back, you began your long trek, and the cabin was a welcome sight after hours of navigating the rocky hard terrain.  Inside was small and utilitarian, but it was more than enough for you. You didn’t bother to take off your boots before falling onto the cot and into a deep exhausted sleep.

In the morning, you took stock of your surroundings. The cabin was pretty well-appointed with a wood stove, a table with two chairs, an amazingly comfortable cot and stacks and stacks of supplies. The gold-painted metal ammo closet in the back was comforting to see and you were going to familarise yourself with its contents later. But first, breakfast.

You got up to make coffee and noticed a medium-sized cardboard box sitting on the small dining table by the stove. There was a note.

‘Your name was given to me at the last moment. Here are some things you may need.’

And it was signed, ‘Ayami’.

You slit open the box with your pocket knife and laughed when you saw the contents. Ayami had packaged not only tampons and pads but several different styles of menstrual cups for you and you felt guilty for earlier, being such a brat about the supplies you needed.

‘You planned everything, Ayami,’ you said aloud to the empty room. ‘Thank you.’

You lit the fire in the stove and put a pot on to boil some water. A noise outside pricked your ears. It sounded like the heavy motor of an ATV and out of the noise you picked out the sounds of other engines drawing closer.

Shit! you thought, rushing to the ammo closet at the back of the cabin.

Flinging open the doors, you dragged out a single barrel shotgun, loaded it, and scrambled back to the front cabin door. Peering out through the narrow window you watched as several four-wheelers and one battered Land Rover raced towards the cabin. In a cloud of kicked up dirt and dust, the Rover drove straight up to the door and to your absolute surprise, the passenger door popped open and Ayami jumped out.

You opened the cabin door and came out.

‘Good!’ she shouted over the noise of the engines. ‘You’re here. Get the first aid boxes ready, now!’

You were a medic and understood the urgency in her tone. You ran back to the cabin and were piling bandages, antiseptics, and other items on the table when three men carried in a limp body between them. Ayami strode across the room and captured you in a hug.

‘I am happy to see you,’ she gasped breathlessly and grabbed your hands. ‘We found him!’

With heart crashing against your ribs, you looked to the man being stretched on the cot as Ayami continued.

Oh God… they found him.

‘Somehow some wanderers discovered him months ago and took him in.’

She trailed off and shook her head. She still seemed to be in shock.

‘Doesn’t matter,’ you told her and squeezed her hands. ‘We’re looking after him now. Radio in for helicopter transport. It may take a few days to get someone out here.’

You cleaned your hands and went to assess the situation. August was alive and badly burned, but gladly not beyond your repair. Ayami came back into the cabin after making the call and joined you at the bed.

‘You planned all of this, Ayami,’ you said. ‘You made this happen. What’re our next step?’

Ayami put her hand on your shoulder and smiled viciously.

‘To make Ethan Hunt pay.’

**

You were wrong.

It didn’t take a few days for the helicopter to arrive. It took two weeks. Although the cabin was well stocked and had nearly everything you needed to tend to August’s wounds, it wasn’t enough.

Ayami wanted to leave and take August the long way through the mountains. They had the power to transport him over land and it was fucking stupid to leave him at the cabin to succumb to something that could be fixed. His body was fighting a raging infection and frankly, he was losing. You explained to her your reasons for why it would be tough on August to try to drive with him through such hard terrain.  He was in a fragile state and jostling him all around in an unstable car could exacerbate any internal injuries. A chopper ride would be better.

Ayami understood that, however…

‘We’ve got plenty of antibiotics,’ she said reasonably. ‘Why can’t we give him some?’

‘Because we don’t know what he has. He could have a bacterial or viral infection and just picking something to give him might do more harm than good. I don’t want to take that risk.’

It wasn’t as if you didn’t want to pump him full of all of the pills you had, just to scattershot the infection, but incorrectly dosing him, in his weakened state,   might kill him. August Walker was alive and you were going to keep him that way.

So you did your best. With Ayami’s help, you kept him clean and dry and in order to manage his temperature, iced. August, however, foiled your attempts to tend to him effectively. He was delirious and unaware of  what was happening to him. More than once you had to extract yourself from his vice-like grip as he held onto you and growled guttural threats of violence to your person. All you could do was try to soothe him and mop his brow and use the aspirin to dull his obvious pain.

**

During the wait for air transport, you stayed up some nights with August. Sometimes you just sat at his bedside and read by the light of your headlamp. Sometimes you just watched him, held his hand and stroked his hair when nightmares haunted his sleep.

He would heal pretty well, you observed, and, without too much lasting damage to his face. He was fortunate that the hot oil missed his eye, although it ruined his ear. But you knew that too could be reconstructed.

‘We’re gonna get you back on your feet, August,’ you murmured on those nights when he was at his most fitful. ‘And we’re gonna get those people who did this to you.’

Even though you weren’t sure he could even hear you speaking, you continued to encourage and comfort him.  It was the least you could do.

**

‘You met John Lark before?’ Ayami asked over breakfast one morning, using August’s real name for the first time.

‘When he was going by John Lark?’ you asked for clarification and she nodded. ‘No. Not then. He had already assumed the new identity and was in the CIA when I turned up.’

‘He was not always like this,’ she said a bit cryptically.

‘How was he?’

Interest sparked in you.

She shook her head.

‘Just different. Maybe he’ll tell you someday.’

Ayami smiled at you and you turned, alerted by the soft groan coming from the bed.

‘Oh God, he’s waking up again,’ she chuckled and then asked you, ‘Top or bottom.’

You laughed inspite of yourself and gave the choice a moment’s thought. ‘Top’ meant that you got to administer medication, clean up his face and check his bandages, while ‘bottom’ meant that you would have to wrestle with his strong flailing arms and risk getting punched in the face. Ayami looked at you expectantly and you grimaced.

‘I had top last time, so…’

She smiled and got up, patting your arm in passing. ‘Then you get top this time.’

‘Ayami, c’mon,’ you protested rising from the chair. ‘I don’t want to be unfair.’

‘Yeah, sure,’ she said lifting her arms and flexing her biceps. ‘But, I need my workout.’

**

Ayami needed to stay in Kashmir to tie up some loose ends. So, you said your farewells and parted company when the chopper transport finally arrived.

You, on the other hand, were headed to New Delhi where another contact would meet and relieve you of your August-sitting duties.

Exhausted and battered, it was just after midnight when you finally arrived at the airport.  Out through the cloudy bubble heli-window, you saw the second contact rush to the settling helicopter. You unlatched an dragged open the side door.

‘Hello!’ he shouted over the roar of the blades overhead. ‘It’s Janus. You can come with me!’

‘Where am I going?’ you shouted back, not moving from where you were sitting next to August’s prone body.

He was still blissfully unconscious and sleeping quietly.

‘There is a safehouse here. You can rest. We will transport Walker to the small plane over there and continue on to London.’

You shook your head and were able to speak normally when the blades finally shuddered to a stop.

‘I’ll go on,’ you told Janus. ‘I’ll go on, it’s ok. I’ll stay with him.’

Janus looked puzzled.

‘No, you are to go to the safe house. I am to continue on.’

You had come this far. You weren’t going to leave August, so you again declined the offer of a trade.

‘Now. Come on. I’m not going to quibble with you,’ you said, kicking open the other door so that the two men accompanying Janus could wrangle the stretcher out of the chopper.

You watched them carry August off and jumping out of the heli, you turned to Janus.

‘Be well, my friend. But I’ve got it.’

Janus shrugged a little and nodded, seeing that you weren’t going to be swayed.

‘Is it really him?’ he asked and you could hear relief seeping into his voice.

You put your arms around him in a farewell hug.

‘It is,’ you said. ‘You have Ayami to thank for that. Make sure that you do.’

You ran after the two men carrying the stretcher. The men secured the stretcher inside and turned to help you into the back of the plane. You pulled closed the small plane’s door and made sure that August was securely strapped in. It was going to be another long ride to the final safe house.

**

It was raining in London, and as the small plane approached, the cool precipitation rinsed away grey foggy clouds to reveal the golden city. Through your headset, you listened to the pilot talk to air traffic control and learned that you were headed to Blackbushe Airport.

‘How far is the safe house from the airport?’ you asked the pilot.

‘Not far. Maybe 20 kilometers. Not far.’  

You were so ready to put your feet on land that you closed your eyes and envisioned a soft bed, a hot meal, and an even hotter bath. Glancing down at the still sleeping man on the stretcher at your feet, you felt a rise of tender feelings in your heart. Not only had your team recovered August Walker, alive, but you had a personal hand in his convalescence.  Reaching down, you touched his face. He felt hot, but not as feverish as before and you were relieved. Elevated fevers for sustained periods of time were dangerous and although he wasn’t out of the woods yet, he was better. You brushed a curl of brown hair off of his forehead and smoothed the edge of your thumb across his eyebrow. Yes, he was going to heal well and regain his strength to be able to fight another day.

Blackbushe Airport was small but efficient and there was a black, solid paneled van waiting for you. You helped the men with the stretcher and once August had been secured, you pulled yourself into the offered front passenger seat.  The driver nodded to acknowledge your presence and you put on your seatbelt as the van drove off.

Someone tapping on the window jarred you from the nap you didn’t realise you had fallen into. With a wet grunt, you sat up, reflexively swiped the back of your hand across your mouth, and dried the drool which had pooled in the corner. Hand still to your mouth, you shifted to look through the window. It was the driver and he made a gesture for you to get out.

You nodded to show that you understood and he moved off. Behind you in the cargo part of the van, you could hear men talking and then sounds of strain when they lifted the stretcher. Even unconscious, August wasn’t for the weak or fainthearted. You chuckled at your own analogy, unclipped the seatbelt and opened the door. Your legs wobbled when your feet hit the ground and you pressed back against the closed door until you felt that you could walk without collapsing. It took a while for your legs to finally firm and when they did you followed the men into the medium sized country manor house.

Inside smelt of cedar and pine. Your footsteps echoed on the hardwood floor as you walked into the charming front room and looked up at all of the old portraits and paintings and decorative weapons. Twin staircases, one on each side of the front room,  dog-legged up to the next level.  You approached a tall round table with a large vase of fresh flowers and walked around it. You peeked into dark rooms and soon found yourself in an equally as charming country kitchen. There was a man in there wearing a black jumper and blue jeans, drinking from a white mug.

‘Ah!’ he said when he saw you. ‘Come in, come in. Coffee?’

Aware that you looked particularly filthy and bedraggled, compared to his crispness, you cleaned your hands on your cargo trousers and stepped into the room.

‘Yes, please.’

The man obliged, saying, ‘It’s only instant, I’m afraid.’

Instant was fine and you didn’t protest when he handed you a cup.

‘And it’s terrible,’ he added with a laugh. ‘I’ve only just arrived and haven’t had a chance to flush out all of the pipes. Everything happened so fast.’

You nodded and drank the metallic tasting coffee without complaint.

‘Ayami, then. Right?’

You knew what he was asking. Ayami was the conductor of this orchestra and she deserved all of the credit.

‘Yes.’

‘Fuck… she’s a legend.’

Finishing the cup without much tasting it, you handed it back to him.

‘I’d like to clean up and make sure that he’s… that August is ok for the night.’

He took the cup and was nodding as he put both yours and his into the sink.

‘Sure, sure. I can do that. There is a room ready for the both of you. Come on, I’ll show you.’

You followed him up the stairs and down a quiet, thickly carpeted hallway which was also lined with gaily painted portraits. Upon reaching the room at the end, he stepped aside to let you go in first.

There was a trio of men in there, that you recognised as the medical team and the room had been set up like a well-stocked hospital room. The lemon yellow wallpaper with its sunflower print was a pleasant contrast to the medical equipment and other paraphernalia. The men greeted you and they all shared a happy look. You knew why and yes, you shared it too. You said nothing as you watched them undress and bathe August, glad that he could finally receive more focused treatment.

‘And my room?’ you asked.

August didn’t need you now and you had to look after yourself. Mr instant coffee led you back down the hall and showed you your bedroom and amenities. When he left you, you threw your rucksack on the floor by the bed, stripped out of your filthy clothes, and immediately ran a bath. When you finally emerged, refreshed, and clean down to your toes, you found a sandwich and cola waiting on the table next to the bed. You devoured it in a few bites but drank the cola slowly as you unpacked your rucksack. All the way at the bottom,  and rolled around a pair of thick socks was a clean shirt and sweatpants which you quickly pulled on. You sat on the edge of the bed and finished the cola.

Flopping onto your side and closing your eyes, you intended to rest for only a moment. However, sleep had other ideas.

**

Sunlight streamed in through the windows behind you and you woke suddenly then rolled over. On the wall at the head of the bed, a pleasant-looking woman smiled down at you from a pastoral painting and you were groggy enough to smile back. Rubbing your face you sat up, yawned, and swung your legs over the edge of the bed, staying there a moment to contemplate the night before. You hadn’t slept that well in a very long time and you were grateful to have finally got some rest. That old bed was a godsend.

After washing and dressing in clean clothes, you stood in the corridor outside your room door and looked down the hallway to where August slept.  His door was closed. The scent of coffee wafting up the stairs alerted you that someone else was awake and you wondered if it was Mr Instant coffee down there still flushing out the pipes and drinking metallic tasting coffee. You decided to leave him to it and you walked to August’s room.

You tapped on the door but there was no answer, so you turned the doorknob and let yourself in.  August was still asleep. The IV drip bag was half empty and the bandages on his face were bright and clean. He looked much better in the warm morning light and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling. You smoothed down the patch of  IV tape on the back of his hand and August startled a yelp out of you when he moved.

His eyes were open and you found yourself under the clear scrutiny of the infamous August Walker. Before your inglorious meeting at the cabin, you had never been this close to him. The two of you never spoke nor had you even been in the same room.

His eyes moved all over your face as if hunting for something and you stood still letting him complete his inspection. When recognition finally bloomed in his eyes, he relaxed.

You ventured to put your hand over his.

‘Do you remember me?’ you asked.

‘I remember,’ he answered, voice raspy from disuse.

August fell silent and it seemed to take effort for him to speak.

‘I… remember you read to me.’

Your heart skipped with elation.

‘Yes.’

Breathing out a breath, August closed his eyes.

‘Thank you.’

‘We’ll make him pay, August,’ you said when he was quiet. ‘All of them.’

It didn’t matter that he had succumbed to sleep again and probably didn’t hear you. Ethan Hunt was going to pay.

**

It was fortunate Mr. Instant Coffee, as you dubbed him, was around to cook and clean because you weren’t about to look after Walker and do the domestic duties as well.

As the weeks drifted by and August grew stronger, you turned your interest away from him and to revenge.

Retribution, you liked to say to yourself. It was a much better word and to pull it off, you needed a team.

Ayami, of course, was on board. She was always up for some violence and you loved her for it. She knew exactly who you needed and how to contact them. And, if you were going to go through with it, all the way, you needed a solid plan. Every piece had to be in place for the whole machine to move forward. No stone could remain unturned.

You spent a lot of time in that country kitchen with plans and schematics and blueprints spread out in front of you on the table. The first order of business was to find the persons responsible; Benji, Ilsa, Luther and Hunt.

Find them, and observe.

‘That’s it,’ you’d told Ayami. ‘Find them and observe. Record their patterns, their travel, their habits, their pubs, markets, clothing stores, everything.’

You made sure to have rotating team members on each target so that said target would not recognise any reoccurring faces and become suspicious. IMF was a clever, skittish bunch and the way to lure them into the trap was to be patient and deliberate.

Early one morning, about three months into your stay at the safe house, a heavy thumping down the stairs distracted you from your research.

You got up, refilled your coffee and then poured a second fresh cup. Returning to the table you put the second cup in the space across from where you had been sitting. For two weeks now, August had been testing his newly found strength and had insisted on getting up and moving around own his own. He’d recently been cut out of his arm cast and was able to navigate his way on crutches. And on mornings after breakfast when he could get himself out of bed, he usually banged down the stairs and hobbled into the kitchen.

After a few days of this, you started preparing a cup of coffee for him. Whether he was looking for coffee or not, you always put out a second cup when you heard him coming down. And August was actually polite and thankful for the gesture. It surprised you. You expected him to be this gruff and grumpy take charge team leader who didn’t have time for underlings. When, in fact, August Walker was a very pleasant man.

‘Morning,’ you heard him say from the kitchen’s doorway.

‘Morning,’ you replied, nodding to the coffee cup.

He took up his regular place across from you, and leaned the crutches against the bench seat.

You looked at him finally. The bandages were all off of his face now (except for the one remaining to protect his damaged ear) and the swelling had gone down.

What was at first considered full-thickness burns were actually only partial-thickness and he could heal without skin grafts.

He looked, you decided, pretty normal. Handsome, in fact and you wanted to reach out to touch him.

He saw you examining him and he made an aborted attempt to touch his face.

‘No, it ahh… it’s good. You look much better. Really,’ you said quickly.

He picked up the coffee and drank slowly.

‘Does it still hurt?’

‘No,’ he said into the cup and changed the subject. ‘What have we got?’

Right back to business, you thought. Of course. None of this ‘feelings’ stuff for him.

‘The only one we got consistent eyes on is Luther. I guess they’re not using him these days, so he’s staying put. He’s in the States and looks to have a vacation home in Florida. If he has a third place, we don’t know about it yet.’

August listened and nodded and you swore you could see a little smile starting to play across his mouth. Not wanting it to disappear, you showed him photos of Ilsa.

‘I think, she thinks she’s clever. At first she was darting around, doing the whole ‘spy’ thing. It was cute. Now, not so much. I’d like to take her… if you agree.’

August looked up at you and that little smile was still there. In fact he looked particularly pleased with you.

‘Don’t worry. Hunt’s for last. We’re saving him for you.’

August held your gaze and you felt a thrill race through you.

‘Excellent,’ he said. ‘I want you to do whatever you want to do. I trust you.’

You brightened considerably and resisted the urge to clap your hands with delight. Having August Walker’s trust had made the day golden.

**

A few days later, the thumping down the stairs distracted you from your work. Smiling a little, you got up and poured a fresh cup of coffee and sat it on the table across from you. Then as an afterthought, you got up again and plated a few chocolate Hobnobs that Mr. Instant Coffee had bought with the weekly grocery. You had barely put the plate down before August appeared in the kitchen doorway.

Seeing the mid-morning snacks waiting for him, he smiled a little and now down to one crutch from two, he hobbled into the kitchen and sat down in his usual spot across from you.

‘Look at you, speedster,’ you teased.

August’s brows rose with pleasure, but he smothered his growing smile by lifting his cup and drinking the coffee.

‘I prefer your coffee to the other one,’ said August, raising his eyes to meet yours.

You hesitated to meet his gaze, and when you did, the praise in his face melted you.

August quickly looked away and down at the plans on the table between the two of you.

‘So, tell me.’

He gestured with the cup to the papers.

You grinned, feeling pleased with your progress.

‘Ilsa. I finally got a bead on her. And I will be travelling to her location today.’

‘Today?’ he asked, sounding surprised and your brows drew together a little.

‘Too soon? I mean.. do you want to come?’

August shook his head and suddenly looked concerned.

‘I don’t want you rushing into something.’

Ah, was that it?

You reached out to tap the back of his hand with your index finger.

‘Whilst I thoroughly enjoy your concern, there’s no need for it. Do you umm, want a trophy? An eyeball? A finger?’

August was clearly surprised, and your offer startled a laugh out of him.

‘No,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘No, I don’t want any of that. But ah… I appreciate your vigour.’

You smiled at him.

‘You sure?’

He laughed a little, again, and asked, ‘And your flight?’

‘Coupla hours,’ you replied checking your wristwatch.

‘And your plan?’

‘Delicious,’ you promised.

And it was.

**

Los Angeles was hot and sweltering and you were not prepared for the weather. But you didn’t let that deter you, for you had a mission to accomplish.

You found the target sitting at a table beneath a colourful umbrella at a crowded outdoor cafe.

Carrying several bags emblazoned with names of high-end shops you stopped by her table, made a show of looking into the cafe and then down at the chair across from her.

She looked up at you and you tried a smile.

‘Hi, I am sooo sorry, but do you mind if I just sit here. I am dying in this heat!’

As you were actually dying in the western heat, you knew that you came across sincerely. She took a moment to consider you. Judging you harmless, she nodded to the chair and you collapsed onto it gratefully.

‘Oh, thank you, honey. That’s so good of you. I thought I was going to get all of my shopping over and done with before noon, but you know how it is. Just one more shop, one more try on…. maybe they got those shoes in the back in your size, right? Am I right?

You giggled easily and she nodded, then glanced into the cafe.

‘I gotta wear these gloves to that my hands don’t tan,’ you said watching her. ‘There’s nothing worse than having your arms one colour and your hands 5 shades darker.’

Ignoring you, she raised her hand hoping to alert the waiter standing inside.

He eased up to the table.

‘Yes ma’am.’

‘I ordered my…’

‘Yes, I know ma’am. We are working on it right now, please give us some time. The broiler is currently holding on by a thread. May I offer you a cold drink? On the house?’

You looked at her and she sighed.

‘Sure, go on. You want one?’

Her attention was on you.

You shrugged.

‘Sure! I’ll have what she’s having.’

The two of you chatted amiably for a little while and the waiter returned with your drinks. You immediately sipped at the fizzy fruit drink and put your glass down next to hers.

Several minutes later someone inside shouted, ‘Janie Fellows?’

The woman across from you stirred and then stood up.

‘Finally,’ she said and went inside to pick up her order.

You watched her go and quickly, unobtrusively, dumped the contents of your travel perfume bottle into her glass.

Ilsa returned with a plate brimming with meat and salad and set it on her placemat.

‘Looks good,’ you said admiring the dish. ‘I might get one, but I do need to get on, I think.’

‘You can stay as long as you like,’ she assured you and began her meal.

You sat and chatted whilst she ate and finished her drink.

You were in the middle of a long drawn out story about your imaginary husband when she stopped devouring the rare steak.

Ilsa dropped her fork and you turned towards her.

‘Something wrong?’ you asked, faux concern in your voice as you let your natural accent slip. ‘You’ve gone quite pale… Janie.’

Ilsa’s wide eyes shot up to your face and she spat out her chewed mouthful.

‘I probably overdosed you,’ you said quietly. ‘I mean, you were ten pounds heavier the last time I checked. But you and your hot yoga classes have done wonders. I might take it up myself.’

Eyes bulging as the poison squeezed closed her throat, Ilsa gurgled and staggered upright. The chair screeched on the concrete, fell away and you got up.

‘August Walker says, hello,’ you snarled at her. Then changing your attitude to something more helpless you shouted, ‘Oh My God! I think she’s having a seizure, help, help!’

A crowd began to form allowing you to slip away, but not before giving the thumbs up to Mr. Instant Coffee who had posed as your waiter who had perfectly distracted the mark enough for you to poison her drink.

**

‘Went well, I take it?’ August asked when you bustled into the kitchen the next morning.

There was coffee waiting for you at your usual spot.

You threw your arms round his neck and gave him a hearty kiss in greeting.

‘Better than you could ever imagine!’ you crowed and left him in stunned silence.

**

Distracted by the noise coming from the upper floor, you looked up from the laptop. The thumping down the stairs had been sounding a little less clumsy lately, now that August had finally regained control over his healing limbs. You were glad for it, because it meant that the infamous August Walker was out of the woods and on the mend.

You got up, poured a fresh cup of coffee, and was just setting it down when August came into the kitchen.

‘Morning!’ you called brightly, like the little homemaker you fancied yourself to be.

Well, you fancied yourself to be the kind of homemaker who didn’t keep house, but made coffee and assassination plans. You turned the cup so that the handle faced August when he straddled the bench and sat down across from you.

‘Thank you,’ he said picking up the cup and drinking deeply.

Smiling fondly, you considered him a moment and looked at the fresh bandage on his ear.

‘It’s ear day soon, isn’t it?’

Ear day, as you called it, was literally when August got his new outer ear to replace the one that had been damaged.  Contacts in one of the world’s leading biotech labs had been cultivating new skin and cartilage from his own cells and were ready for transplantation.  August had been putting off the surgery, ever since the fire of killing off the IMF team had been lit. He wanted a clear conscience before proceeding with any additional cosmetic surgery.

August lifted his gaze, but not directly to you. He looked at a spot on the table which was still littered with papers and blueprints and your laptops and a muscle bunched in his jaw, alerting you that he was uncomfortable with this line of discussion. You were never one to back down from a subject you wanted to pursue, so you pressed him gently.

‘I think… well, I think it’s gonna be fine. The surgery will be fine. You’ll have a brand spanking new appendage and everything’s gonna be fine.’

You watched his eyes sweep the length of the table, in an obvious attempt to avoid looking at you.

‘You suffered no hearing loss, on that side, the skin is mending itself nicely and the doctors even said that there was no follicle damage. Those curls will be coming back in no time.’

He scoffed.

‘I don’t care about that.’

‘Yes you do,’ you said with a tiny grin. ‘Yes you do, you care. If you didn’t care, you wouldn’t look like this.’

You waved an appraising hand in his direction.

‘August Walker, meet August Walker. He cares about his looks.’

‘I’m not vain,’ August scowled, putting the cup down and finally looking you in the face

You softened your teasing just a little.

‘I didn’t say you were vain. There’s nothing wrong with a man who looks after his appearance. It’s… sexy.’

That stopped him and a spark of pleasure brightened his face.

You continued to lay it on thick.

‘Come now, a good looking guy like you? And you don’t know it? I find that hard to believe.’

He snorted quietly.

‘Do you ever think something that you don’t say?’ he asked, lifting a dark brow.

You leaned in on your elbows.

‘There are loads of things that I think, that I don’t say. That doesn’t mean that I won’t say them eventually.’

August’s lips lengthened into an inquisitive smile.

‘Like?’

‘Like?’ you repeated and decided to come clean. ‘I just said that you were sexy.’

You made an airy, dismissive gesture.

‘That’s not a new thought.’

You felt a chill manifest as a soft, insistent tingling that skittered all along your skin. Everything you’d hidden about your feelings for him was almost all the way out and you couldn’t stop yourself.

‘It’s not new that I’d do anything for the manifesto to be realised,’ you continued.

When August put down the cup, you reached out and clasped both hands over his.

‘That I’d do anything for you, August.’

The passion in your own voice stunned you. Surely, you had once again overstepped his boundaries.

First, it was kissing him without asking,  and now this, though August didn’t seem bothered by your audacity. He turned his hands up to enclose yours.

‘And I reward loyalty,’ he answered, voice low and full of promise.  

You drew in a long breath through loosely pursed lips, which August seemed to appreciate for his eyes lowered to your wet mouth. His own lips parted in response and you wondered if you climbed across that table and onto his lap, would it have been considered outlandish.

You didn’t think about any of that, as you stood up onto the wooden bench. With his handsome face brimming with delight, August held onto your hands and steadied you as you scrabbled across the table and landed astride his muscular thighs with a satisfied ‘ooof!’

He grimaced from the sudden pressure slamming down on his still tender leg and you were immediately contrite.

‘I’m sorry,’ you murmured, sliding your arms around his neck and curling your fingers into his shaggy curls. ‘I’m sorry. I’ll not play so rough next time.’

‘I like it rough,’ said August, running his hands over your hips to grip you close.

And then you kissed him, softly, fully, feeling his lips come apart beneath yours. Breathing him in, your thoughts ran wild.

I could get used to this. I could indulge in this all day. I could–

Then, ever a man of ill timing, Mr. Instant Coffee bustled into the kitchen, and it took him a moment to realise what he was interrupting.

‘Oh, shite, ok… uhh so that’s happening. Ok, great, but ah, you two… we need to get a move on. The car leaves in ten.’

And then he was gone, leaving you staring at the recently vacated kitchen doorway with your arms dangling over August’s shoulders. Reluctantly, you backed off of August’s lap and smiling, you cupped his cheek, pressed your thumb against the dimple in his chin and walked off to grab your travel bag.

It was back to the States again, the keys of Florida where Luther Stickell was vacationing on a secluded houseboat.

**

Stickell was not hard to find. His boat was moored in one of the farthest berths and was lit up like Christmas. He was having a party.

So much for keeping a low profile, you thought as you stepped off of the elegant cabin cruiser that had been rented for your mission. Your craft was berthed far enough away from his that no one in Stickell’s party could see August in his scuba gear, stepping off the low deck and into the dark water.

Standing on a nearby wooden piling, a pair of seagulls watched you suspiciously, the way birds do, and you lifted a finger to your lips, shushing them.

Holding a pair of strappy heels in your hand, you walked down the slatted dock between yachts and other smaller boats.  You purposefully wore a skimpy sequined dress, in the hopes of talking your way into the party. There were casually dressed men standing on the dock and smoking and they stopped talking as you approached. They didn’t look like bodyguards, but just like regular blokes. Easy to manipulate.

‘Hullo!’ you called happily, flapping your hand at them in greeting, affecting tipsiness. ‘I couldn’t help coming over. I just came from another get-together, but I’m not done partying yet. Ya’ll mind if I… ’

You made a walking motion with your index and middle fingers towards the boat. One of the men smiled and swaggered towards you. He held out a hand which you took and he led you to the edge of the boat, then helped you down the stairs.

Too easy.

There were people milling about on the port deck and some people playing cards inside, but not a lot was going on. It appeared to be at the tail end of the party, where people were trying to drink the last of the booze and eat the last of the food before they were forced to go home. You spotted Luther at the card table. He was laughing around a huge cigar clamped between his front teeth and then he threw the cards down on the table with a triumphant cry. The men sitting there erupted in jeers and hoots as he raked in the pile of money from the centre of the table.

Scanning the area you then went down the stairs to the toilet and stood in the dark narrow corridor thinking about August swimming around beneath your feet as he planted bomb charges against the boat’s hull.

The thought of him down there was strangely arousing.

August was stronger now, strong enough to cause mayhem with his own hands, and it was all you wanted for him. You crouched by the toilet and dug about in your handbag, pulling out one of Ayami’s personal creations – something she’d called her ‘cherry bang bang’. You drew out a black device that was flat on the bottom and round on the top. It looked harmless enough, almost like a little cake, but you knew the massive power packed into that sweetly named bomb. She had given you and August a personal demonstration of the destructive power of her little sweets. You placed a kiss on its glossy surface and adhered it to the underside of the toilet bowl.

‘You are a gem, Ayami,’ you chuckled and pushed upright.

You made your way back to the upper level and moving about unnoticed you planted more cherry bang bangs, even adhering one to each of the fishing chairs bolted to the port side deck.  

A chill settled over the harbour. The guests soon drifted inside and eventually left the party altogether.

You walked back to the rented cabin cruiser to find August waiting for you. His hair was curly and damp and there were pressure marks from the dive mask across his brow. You went up on tiptoes to kiss him. August caught you about the waist and wrapped you up in his arms, lifting you to deepen the kiss. Trapped like that against his big, hot body,  your heart throbbed excitedly. If he could elicit such wonders from your body with just a kiss and an embrace, you couldn’t imagine what other magic he could work.

‘Ready?’ he asked, bending to put you back on your feet.

You nodded and tossing your shoes aside, went to sprawl on one of the long creme coloured couches. August started the engine and guided the cruiser out of the berth. When you were a safe distance away, he reached for your hand and helped you up to the top deck.

You could see the lights of Stickell’s boat twinkling in the distance.  And after about twenty more minutes, once everyone was finally gone, Luther shut off the boat lights.  You and August got up from your deck chairs. You held up the binoculars and adjusted them until the houseboat came into sharp focus. All you could see now was the red glow of Luther’s cigar as the man sat out in one of the fishing chairs and enjoyed the rest of his evening.

August put one arm about your waist, big hand splaying across your stomach, and held up the detonator with the other.

‘Two down,’ you said and he depressed the button.

The explosion was brilliant.

Through the binoculars, you watched the boat burn and sink, but August was more interested in kissing the back of your neck and exposed shoulders to pay attention.

‘Mmmm,’ you purred slyly, leaning your head back against his shoulder. ‘Did you like that? Was it good for you?’

‘So good,’ he answered giving you one last kiss before releasing you.

You opened your mouth to say something but the distant sounds of sirens broke the silence.

Time to go, you thought and the both of you disappeared into the night.

**

You didn’t want to go back to the safehouse right away. As nice as the country house was, being cooped up between those four floral walls drove you crazy. August paid for a few nights at the Shangri-la hotel in London so that you could shower in temperatures above lukewarm, and sleep in a broad bed beneath washing detergent scented sheets.

And when August made love to you on those soft sheets,  your earlier conjecture regarding his sexual prowess, did not prepare you for the bliss you experienced with him buried deep inside you.

It was nearly nine in the morning, a few days after your expedition to the Keys, and propped up with a pillow under your armpit, you lay on your side across the hotel bed, a bowl of spag bol, and your open laptop on the white duvet in front of you. You were half under the thick covers and half out of it because the room was warm, but not uncomfortably so. August emerged from the adjoining bathroom, wearing one of the luxurious bathrobes and towelling dry his hair.

He tossed the towel across the footrest by the chair and stretched out on the bed behind you, looking over your shoulder to read the Miami Herald’s bold headline. He slid his hand beneath your tee-shirt and caressed the skin between your shoulder blades. How he figured out that you liked that, still remained a quandary, but you were glad that you didn’t have to ask for it.

‘Oh, dear,’ you said feigning distress. ‘Did you hear about the accident that happened in Florida? Tsk… such a shame.’

‘Is he dead?’ asked August, as he nuzzled your shoulder.

‘Yes, sir,’ you teased, reaching back to playfully push him off. ‘You are not paying attention.’

‘I am. I’m paying attention to what’s important.’

The implication of his statement drifted right over your head as you were too focused on proving him wrong.

He kissed your neck again and grunted when you jabbed him with an elbow.

‘Well, if you were paying attention to what was important, you’d know that…’

‘That Dunn is here in London,’ August finished for you and continued to lazily caress your back.

That shut you right up. How did he know?

‘Of course, you knew,’ you chuckled.

‘I suggest,’ said August, changing the subject and lifting his head to take your earlobe between his lips. ‘We take one more day here and then find him.’

As he spoke, August slid his hands beneath you, turned you away from the laptop and pulled you atop him. You wriggled with delight, and grasping the robe’s belt, you pulled the knot free and let it fall open.

‘Just one day?’ you asked, sliding down the length of his body to ease his cock into your mouth.

‘Anything!’ he gasped, the heat of your mouth robbing him of coherent through. ‘Whatever you want.’

You wanted at least two extra weeks after the mission.

**

When you woke hours later, August was gone. There was a note left for you on the nightstand and in his neat print he’d written, ‘Supply Run.’

You stretched under the duvet and tapped the stiff cardstock against your lower lip.

Supply Run either mean food, or guns and knowing August, it was probably the latter. You were just raiding the over-stocked minibar refrigerator when he returned to the hotel room, carrying a long black duffel which he dropped onto the chaise at the end of the bed.

‘Guns,’ you said aloud, looking up from the chilled box of chocolate.

‘What?’ he asked, shrugging out of his jacket.

You smiled and shook your head and switched on BBC World Service.

Unzipping the duffel, August asked, ‘what do you know about Sage Software?’

‘Nothing,’ you answered truthfully. ‘Who are they?’

‘They supply small business software. Dunn is working with them and hacking them.’

Taking the chocolates to the bed, you opened your laptop and searched the business. With a laugh, you rolled over onto your back and looked up at August with interest. He was smiling slightly back at you.

‘Well, what do you know?’ you said with amusement. ‘Sage is located in the Shard, which is… ’

August nodded to you and his grin widened.

‘Right downstairs,’ he finished.

‘Did you plan this? Getting a room here because he was downstairs?’ you giggled, when he leaned over to kiss you.

‘Of course. Leave nothing to chance, Princess.’

Well, that nickname was new, you thought, delighted.

‘What’s the plan, then?’

August stretched out on his back next to you and folded his hands on his belly.

‘He’s got an office on the 13th and is there most nights.’

‘Most nights,’ you repeated and waited for him to finish his thought.

‘Tonight.’

**

Dunn was surprisingly easy to pick off. You had expected for him to have cameras and monitors and other high tech stuff to alert him to the presence of anyone who came unannounced to his office. And, you were surprised that /he/ was surprised when August quietly opened the thin office door and let himself in.

You stayed in the corridor and watched the scene unfold through the narrow decorative glass panel next to the door.

Dunn obviously recognised and remembered August,  because he bolted out of his swivel chair and threw himself against the wall behind him.

‘I thought you were dead!’ you heard him shout before the silenced round splattered him across the frog poster that announced ‘work hard, play hard, live hard’.

You clapped lightly as August exited the office.

‘Well done, baby,’ you praised him. ‘But come on. I heard the lift bell. It would be stupid of us to get caught.’

All the little piggies had gone to slaughter. All except one.

**

Ethan Hunt was not a stupid man.

In fact, he was quite the opposite. He was cunning and clever and suspicious which were characteristics that helped him to remain one of the top Mi6 agents.

He also had a golden streak of very good luck and August Walker was just about to ruin that man’s whole career.

‘He went squirrely, ’ said Ayami who was pawing through a tin of broken Danish butter cookies from where she sat perched on the kitchen counter-top.

Two weeks after you returned from the Dunn business,  Ayami just turned up at the country safe-house. Much to your delight, you’d found her one morning sitting at the kitchen table having a bagel and cream tea. And you knew why she was there. Things were winding up to the big payoff and the team needed to be as consolidated as possible.

‘What does that mean?’ you asked her but it was Mr. Instant Coffee who answered.

‘Means that he knew what’s good for him and went underground.’

‘Because all of his peeps were getting murdered,’ Ayami finished cheerfully and you half expected her and Instant Coffee to slap hands in a celebratory high-five.

August sat silently in his usual place, thoughtfully turning the small white coffee cup in a circle on the table.

‘Last time he was seen?’ he asked finally.

‘Park hotel, Berlin,’ Instant Coffee read from the reports supplied by the ‘boots on the ground’ team. ‘Been there for about a week, but he hasn’t really stayed one place for more than that. We should have moved earlier.’

‘No,’ said August, not looking at him, but at the cup. ‘No, we want to give him enough rope to hang himself. Let him get complacent.’

‘Do we have time to let him get complacent?’ Instant Coffee said. ‘I mean, the longer we wait, the more time he’ll have to burrow in like a fucking tick.’

You looked at Instant Coffee for a moment. He did have a point.

‘Okay,’ August replied easily. ‘You’re right.’

At that moment, your respect for August Walker increased ten-fold. That he was able to take in the opinion of the other members of his team was unbearably sexy. He may have earned a little leg over for later that night.

‘I’m going alone,’ August announced finally, drawing the sharp attention of everyone in the room.

You reined your own reaction because an emotional response in that instant would have been inappropriate. You knew exactly why August wanted to hunt down Ethan alone. Hunt had not only gravely wounded August’s body but also his pride. His revenge was personal.

‘That’s probably not a good idea,’ said Instant Coffee, obviously feeling confident that he had scored a few brownie points a few moments earlier.

August scowled and looked to you. Meeting his gaze,  you nodded once.

‘August should face Hunt alone,’ you said to the room and then to him, added, ‘but I don’t think you should go alone.’

There was so much gratefulness in his eyes that you felt embarrassed and looked away. You didn’t want August to see the answering distress in your eyes. If the fight on the cliff side had been fair, and luck hadn’t been on Hunt’s side, August wouldn’t have lost. Tossing August over the edge was poor sportsmanship. You were afraid that Hunt would employ other clever tricks and defeat August for the second time. And now that August wanted to take on the IMF leader alone ensured that he would be left vulnerable to losing the upper hand.

You didn’t want to lose him again, but you remained silent. This was ultimately August’s decision and he had made his choice.

**

The two of you didn’t speak much on the trip to Berlin. There wasn’t much to say. You didn’t dare express to him your fears, because that would only serve to distract him with your possibly misplaced doubt. And distraction was the last thing August needed.

When he pulled up to a local hotel to drop you off, you stayed in the car, sitting quietly for a moment, unsure what to do or say. Sighing, you turned to him and reached to cup his cheek.

‘See you soon,’ you encouraged him. ‘Bring me a trophy.’

August nodded and you got out of the car.

Come back to me, you thought watching the car disappear in the afternoon traffic.

Your room faced the Berliner Fernsehturm and you could hear music from the festival going on in the square below. You took a long hot shower and stretched on the surprisingly comfortable bed. It wasn’t the Shangri-la, but it was charming and it wasn’t long before you fell asleep.

The room door thunking shut as if a heavy weight collapsed against it awoke you hours later. With a gasp, you shot upright and reached for your weapon. You couldn’t remember where the light switch was, so when you scrambled up from the bed, you backed up to the table under the window and jerked open the curtains to let in the artificial outdoor light.

The scent of sulphur and petrol filled the room and as your eyes slowly adjusted to the differences in the light you could just make out the bulky form sitting on the floor against the door. You knew that form as the impression of it was etched on your own flesh.

You put your weapon aside and padded barefoot across the hardwood floor, grabbing a towel and wetting it as you passed the small bathroom alcove. You crouched before the shadowed figure and put your hand beneath his chin. You lifted his face to the light and it was clear that Hunt had given August a run for his money.

You gently cleaned the dried blood from his mouth and chin, carefully working it out of his moustache and scruff.

You wanted to say something reassuring, something positive, but you were too overwhelmed with relief.

‘Well,’ you murmured, stroking his face. ‘I hate to see the other guy.’

August was silent and you hoped you hadn’t over stepped the line.

He then held up a small package wrapped neatly in butcher’s paper and tied with white twine. You took it from him, pulled the string and the paper unfolded  to reveal your trophy. Holding it up to the light, it took a moment for you to recognise the carefully extracted evidence of Hunt’s death and you smiled.

‘Come on, you big brute,’ you said fondly, attempting to pull him up from the floor.

When August didn’t budge, you stopped straining against his weight and gasped with exertion.

‘You’re gonna have to help me here, babe!’

Groaning miserably, August managed to get his feet beneath him using the door and you to heave himself from the floor. You struggled to get him out of his clothes  and under the soft yellow light above the sink you examined him. Big swollen bruises bloomed across his chest and back accompanied by several shallow scrapes and slashes. You wasted no time washing him up, patching his wounds, and getting him into bed.

Lying on his belly, August was still asleep when you woke the next morning. You went to the minibar refrigerator, withdrew your trophy and admired it in the morning sunlight. Your mobile beeped.

It was a message from Ayami.

‘Tell your boyfriend to be a little less conspicuous next time, ok?’ she’d written.

Curious, and glancing at August’s sleeping form, you rang her.

‘What’s that mean?’ you asked when she answered.

‘I mean that August didn’t need to leave that fucker’s burning corpse in the warehouse. He damn near burned down the place.’

‘He was obviously sending them a message,’ you answered, smiling gleefully, proud of your little murder puppy.

‘I can understand that,’ she shot back sounding uncharacteristically irritable. ‘But that also earned us more attention than we wanted.’

You sobered.

‘Is this something that needs to be taken care of?’

‘It’s already handled,’ she answered and some of her good humour crept back into her voice.

You sighed and relaxed, wrapping an arm about your midsection.

‘He’s not my boyfriend,’ you said after a moment with no conviction in your voice and she laughed incredulously.

‘When are you coming back?’ she asked, changing the subject.

‘I dunno. Depends on what August wants.’

‘Ok, you two lovebirds hash it out and I’ll see you… whenever.’

‘Thanks, Ayami. I love you!’

‘Get something from the Wall museum for me, ok?’

You disconnected the call and tossed aside the mobile.

Feeling a warm sense of well-being, you re-wrapped your trophy and stored it in the refrigerator again. Climbing into bed next to August, you lifted his arm, crawled beneath it, and curled your body against him.

August had exacted his revenge and you felt satisfied for him. But you weren’t sure what was going to happen now. The mission that had consumed so much of your year was over. You felt un-moored and a little panicked, but when August tightened his arm round you, your hamster wheel of thoughts scattered.

There was time to worry later, now in the heat of August’s embrace was peace and with a small smile still on your lips, you put your head against him and slept.

-end

#Henry Cavill #August Walker #August Walker x reader #Henry Cavill smut #ethan hunt must die #napolwon solo #man of steel #clark kent #geralt #the witcher #napoleon solo

[the-other-art-blog]

Clint and Laura are relationship goals

I love how people are finally appreciating Clint and Laura's marriage! I've already reblogged as many posts as I've found about it. But whatever, let me gush about them. (I'm sorry, I can't write short posts)

To many, it was surprising and refreshing that he told her about Ronin. We are so used to that cliché where the hero hides the truth from their significant others to "protect" them. And of course, more often than not, it backfires. Either it ruins the relationship or puts them in danger, or both. And sometimes they die. To the top of my mind comes Ethan Hunt and Julia from MI.

Now, a lot of people pity Laura cause Clint leaves her alone so often or they hate Marvel for giving Linda Cardellini this role. Like she's a poor woman who stays on a farm in the middle of nowhere taking care of his kids. And if they would have followed the cliché, yes, that would have been awful. And she should have divorced him years ago. Even more, she shouldn't have married him, for starters.

(BTW, some people want that. Some dream of getting married and having kids and that's it. That's how they're happy. And it seems like Laura is one of them. If they come from the Midwest, I know people in that region are more traditional, conservative. Therefore, it makes sense that that's what Laura and Clint want. So leave her alone, not every woman wants to be a CEO. Besides, in AOU Clint says he wants to build her a workplace, so she does have a job? It doesn’t look as if they do much with the farm, so my headcanon is that she is somewhere in the arts world, but I do with all my fav characters. The University of Iowa does have a really cool Art History program.)

Back to the point, Clint actually talks to her. I bet she knew about every mission he had before. If she knew about Ronin, she knew about everything else. And it's not just "I have a mission and it went bad" and she just holds him. No, she knows details!

There's no other way this marriage would have worked. And I think that shows how important Laura is to Clint, how much he wants their relationship to work.

And also, how much he respects her, cause that excuse of "I wanted to protect you so I kept my dark past/side from you" is BS. She's an adult woman and she can handle the truth. After that, the decision to leave or stay is on her.

And his honesty pays off. She had no problem with Clint working closely with Natasha, nor spending months away from home. I mean, of course, she misses him but she doesn't get mad. And let's be honest, a lot of women would have a problem with his friendship with Nat. Yet, she welcomed her into her home, named her third child after her and and understands Clint's grief. Why should she worry? He's an open book to her!

John Campea said that Laura must be his #1 sounding board and advisor and I agree. If Clint went to fight on Cap's side, as much as I hated that decision, she must have supported him. Same when he joined SHIELD, and when he sparred Nat's life. And on many more occasions.

She might get frustrated sometimes. I think she will get a bit anxious as the days pass and he keeps delaying his flight, as it seems in one of the tv spots. There might be some discussions, but it won’t break the relationship.

I would love to learn more about the beginning of their relationship. How did they meet? When did they marry? What was Clint's job before SHIELD? More about Laura's thoughts. The problems that they've had.

#clint barton #Laura Barton #hawkeye #hawkeye spoilers #this is like the 10th post about Hawkeye #I'm not gonna stop

[mackeydoodledoo]

Demon or Human?

Pairing: Bela Dimitrescu x Demon (Fem!)Reader

Summary: A foreign invader comes into Castle Dimitrescu just as you were settling in with your new family. However, how far would you be willing to go to protect your newfound home and your newfound love?

Warning: Game spoilers (I’ll try to keep those at a minimum), Blood, Slight G0R3, uncontrollable demon rage, fluff at the end

A/N: In light of some Resident Evil Village spoilers... Let’s just say I WILL NOT HAVE IT! So, I guess this is another entry to my The Demon Amongst Vampires series! R is My Character: Hydrangea Dragonfold

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

1 Year..

You’ve been inhabiting Castle Dimitrescu for one year. Alcina had been able to persuade Mother Miranda to keep you in her care instead of letting you be hunted for sport. You’d probably survive it anyway, with your demon abilities. 

“I have to go to a meeting,” Alcina announces to you and her daughters, “Apparently Mother Miranda has found a foreigner man-thing in our village grounds.”

“A man?!” Daniela squeals of excitement

"A new plaything?!” Cassandra asks

“You must bring him here at once mother,” Bela says

She looks at her three children, almost looking like she is tired of their pleas. However, she recomposes herself

“I will have to persuade Mother Miranda as best as I can,” Alcina says, “I appoint Hydrangea on watch. Bela is in charge.”

You leave your mouth agape, hearing your name after while of Bela calling you “micul meu demon” or everyone else calling you demon.

“But mother-” Cassandra interrupts

“Why can’t it be either one of us?” Daniela motions to her and Cassandra

“Because I’m the oldest,” Bela flaunts her ‘eldest sibling title’

“There will be no complaints my daughters,” Alcina says, “Guard the castle well Hydrangea.”

“Of course My lady,” you say out of respect

“You have permission to call me Alcina Hydrangea,” She smiles

Alcina makes her exit. 

“I get the first bite on the man thing,” Daniela blurts out

“Not if I catch him first,” Cassandra interrupts

“Enough!” Both you and Bela scream

Your blue flames ignite slightly, almost setting the table on fire. However, you compose yourself. Thus, your flames ‘dieing’.

“We will wait for your mother to return,” You sigh, “Gosh you two are rowdy. No wonder why Bela is in charge.”

You ignite your flames once you stand, heading off towards the staircase. However, Bela follows you. You didn’t notice her presence until she grabs your wrist and pulls you into a room.

“Bela love what are you doing?” You ask

You try to get her to let go of you however, you stop fighting her as she doesn’t reply to you but only snakes her arms around your midsection, taking in your warmth that you were producing. Not only from your natural body heat, but your demon form as well. You were also sure that she was also listening to your racing heartbeat. The one thing you feared was giving too much heat, too much to the point where Bela and possibly everyone else you’ve come to love and care about they turn to ash because of your carelessness of your flames. 

“I... Love, I have to leave,” You sigh, placing your hand on her head and the other on her waist 

“No you don’t,” She counter argues

“I do my love,” You say, looking down at her, “I have to keep you three safe.”

“And you think we can’t protect ourselves?!” Bela asks

“That is not what I meant love,” You say, “It’s just... It’s just I’m not over what happened last time... If I hadn’t come when I did, you would have died... I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself for that. I’d die if anything happened to you.”

Bela’s grip on you only tightens when you finish your sad ramble. This gets you in tears. You really couldn’t imagine the rest of your life without her.

“You’d die... For me?” She asks

“Of course I would love,” You smile, swooping her into your arms

Fortunately, your blue flames weren’t ignited enough to accidentally burn her. Your foreheads touch as you give her a kiss

“This is so much better,” Bela sighs in relief

“It really is,” You smile, “Thank you Bela.”

She kisses your forehead. You lay your head against her shoulder, hoping you could just stay like that for a little bit longer.

“Bela?” You ask, breaking the silence

“What is it my love?” She asks

“If this man... If this man scurries around the castle and hurts any of you,” You start, “What if I lose control of my demon form and I no longer see the human in me?”

“Simple, I‘ll get you out,” She answers

“What if you can’t?” You ask, worried now, “What if I’m the one who ends up hurting you?”

“Can you promise me one thing then?” She asks

You nod.

“The don’t use your full demon form,” She requests, “If you’re worried about hurting us, don’t use it. Should you though, I will pull you out.”

You had wished you were able to stay like that forever. However, you knew you had to begin your task. You and Bela give each other one last kiss before departing each others’ presence and embrace. Bela goes back down to the foyer to meet her sisters once more.

“You two okay?” Daniela asks, breaking the silence

“We are fine Daniela,” Bela answers

“Then when will the both of you just shut up and get married?!” Cassandra asks, clearly teasing Bela now

 “We are not-we don’t plan on that yet,” Bela says, “It’s never come up when we talk and we don’t need to yet.”

“Sure,” Daniela teases

As you were scouting the grounds of the castle, you already see Alcina returning to the castle.

“My lady!” You call out, “I’m assuming it didn’t go well?”

“Mother Miranda gave that man-thing to Heisenberg, of course I’m upset!” She groans in frustration, “I need a drink.”

You follow her back into the castle where her daughters immediately stand to greet her.

“Where’s the male foreigner?” Bela asks

“Mother Miranda gave him to Heisenberg that fool,” She groans

You all watch her walk up the stairs and disappear into the castle. You four seat back down into the couch, Bela leaning into your embrace. 

“How was scouting O-great demon king?” Daniela teases

“It was fine Dani,” you chuckle, “Are you just going to continuously make nicknames for me Dani?”

She nods as she leans back into the chair. However, before any of you could converse on, you could hear footsteps. You motion for the girls to stop talking.

“You guys hear that too?” You whisper

You motion for the three of them to follow you and once you get to the grand entrance of the castle, you see a man. 

“Looking for Rose?” Daniela calls out to him, taunting him

The three of them begin forming into their fly swarm and move toward him. You make the decision to tell Alcina herself that a man has entered the castle. 

“My lady, there is a man in the castle,” You sigh, “Your daughters are on the case. I’m not sure who he is- oh, speak of the devil, here they are.”

You hear the doors burst open along with struggled grunts. You look over and notice Cassandra and Bela dragging him in.

“Mother, I bring you fresh prey,” She says, trying to take the credit

“Oh, you are so kind to me daughters,” Alcina smiles, her daughters letting a slight giggle out of their mouths, “Now, let’s take a look at him.”

She stands up and faces him, “Well, well, Ethan Winters. You’ve escaped my little brothers’ idiot games did you? Let’s see how special you are.”

You watch Bela, Daniela and Alcina taste his blood. You stand next to Cassandra as you watch.

“Hey-Hey you, help me out!” Ethan pleas at you

You turn to look at him for a second. You feel your human willing to help him however, you end up turning your back to him, not willing to help him. If anything, you also hated men. 

“Starting to go a little stale,” Alcina says, “But, I must inform Mother Miranda. Later, there will be enough for everyone. Put him up.”

You watch again as Bela and Daniela hook his hands and Cassandra hoists him up. You hear him groan in pain as you all begin making your exit.

“Hey... Hey you!” He again calls for you, “Help me... Please...”

You stop in your tracks and look up at him. You only let out a low chuckle as Bela gently grabs your wrist and pulls you out from the room.

As you were finishing something with Cassandra you suddenly hear Bela’s grunts.

“Hey, I gotta go,” You say out of the blue

You follow Bela’s voice, rushing even further when you could hear her voice getting louder and louder.

“Bela! Bela!” You call out for her

You pass through the kitchen and notice Bela on top of Ethan. However, she doesn’t notice how he’s aiming his gun. Only you had noticed.

“Bela! The windows!” You scream, “He’s gonna shoot the windows!”

Believing that she didn’t hear you, you ignite your flames even more so than earlier. But, it’s concentrated to your palms. You begin melting the bars that had separated from you reaching Bela. However, just before the glass had gave way to the heavy damage, the bars melted enough for you to burst through. You hear Bela’s pained scream as the glass gave way to the heavy damage. 

“You- stupid man-thing!” Bela screams

You only pictured how she was the last time she was out in the cold. You let out an ear-piercing roar as you forcefully push Ethan out of the way to get to Bela. Igniting your flames ever so slightly, you pick Bela up and begin warming her up with your flames and your natural body heat. You go back into the dungeons and place her down gently, hoping you had warmed her enough.

“Are you okay?!” You ask, tears welling into your eyes

“I am now love,” She smiles, caressing your cheek

“Go!” You say, “Get your sisters an get somewhere safe! He knows! I’ll come find you.”

You watch Bela disappear into the dungeons, hopefully back into the castle to warn her sisters. You go back to where Ethan had shot the window. He was hoping you’d feel pain with the cold however, when you emerged from the cold wind, you came out, unphased.

“What the HELL ARE YOU?!” Ethan asks

“The one who will kill you,” You growl, taking in the cold, “My blood’s boiling...”

Your blue flame continue to ignite more than usual and you pounce onto him, snarling in his face. He tries to use his shotgun on you and he manages to graze the side of your head. He manages to wriggle himself out of your grip and shoots at you again, this time, in the shoulder. 

“Stay down kid,” He says mercilessly and runs into the direction you came

“Get back here you coward!” You scream, trying to stand

As your body began regenerating, you continuously crawled in the direction he was going in, beginning to track his scent. It was difficult as you were in the room where the wines are created. However, it didn’t stop you from continuing on the path. When you fully regenerated your shoulder, you get up nd try to track his scent as best as you could. However, when you only got back into the castle.

“Bela!” you call

You felt a hand on your wrist as you begin getting pulled into a room. A feeling of relief washes over you as you hug Bela tightly. You look over her shoulder and only see Cassandra with her.

“Where’s Daniela?” You ask, in a panicked state

“She ran off, hoping to take down the man herself,” Cassandra sighs

You hear the door burst open and it’s Alcina.

“That man will pay for what he’s done,” She growls, “My daughter are you hurt?”

“I was but- thanks to Hydrangea,” Bela sighs in relief, leaning into your shoulder to warm up some more

“Where’s Daniela?” Alcina asks

“She went to the library to take down the man mother, we tried to stop her,” Cassandra sighs

“You two stay with Hydrangea until I return with his head and Daniela,” Alcina orders before leaving again

She makes her leave. The three of you sit on the couch, Cassandra and Bela huddling against you for warmth. However, Bela practically seating herself into your lap.

“Do you have to be such a hog of the human furnace?” Cassandra looks at her older sister in annoyance

“I’m her girlfriend so buzz off,” Bela says

“She may be your girlfriend but I need some warmth too,” Cassandra growls

You could hear Daniela’s pained grunts and screaming. You stand up and place Bela down onto the couch next to her sister. You flick your finger and a small flame goes into the fire place, igniting the firewood.

“Alcina hasn’t found her yet,” You say, “I’ll go get Daniela the both of you stay here okay?”

Once you left the room you break into a run towards the library. You break through the door just as Ethan begins opening the roof to let in the cold air again.

“STOP!” You scream, grabbing onto Daniela

Sorry Bela... I have to do this... To protect all of you. You four accepted me almost instantly... I have to protect my home. I’m not letting anyone die here! The only one dying is him....

The ground around you became engulfed in blue flames, surrounding both you and Daniela

[A/n: not my gif]

“I got you Dani,” You say, the last time you heard your own voice

You look at Ethan completely deranged, more than Cassandra could ever look deranged at one of her “pets”. Ethan begins to walk backward however, tripping over an object.

“Let’s talk about this kid!” Ethan pleas, “From one human to another-”

“I’m not a human!” You spat, your demon voice overtaking your real voice, “I’m a demon! I protect my home and everyone in it!”

You let go of Daniela and leave her on the floor for Alcina to check on her. You throw Ethan out of the library. Alcina takes Daniela to where her other two daughters were. You throw him down a set of stairs. Coincidentally where Bela had opened the door.

You stand at the top of the stairs, looking down at Ethan, “You’ve overstayed your welcome... Time to say goodnight.”

“No-No please I beg you please I just wanted to find my daughter!” He screams

“All of this? For a child who isn’t even here?!” You mock him, “Your little baby could even be dead for all I care!”

Ethan draws his gun and pulls the trigger as a last resort to get you to stand down. However, you slice his arm off. You could hear his screams of pain as you now stand over him.

From the other room, Bela, Daniela, Alcina and Cassandra watch as you begin devouring his flesh. You stop after two bites out of his flesh you turn to the four women. Unable to feel your human, instead feeling your demon take full control over your body, you charge at Cassandra, Daniela, Alcina, even Bela. Alcina, being the protective mother she is, stands in front of her daughters, ready to slaughter you so if you lay a finger on her daughters like this. However, Bela runs past the three.

“Bela, get back here!” Alcina yells

Before you could lay a finger on them, Bela throws her arms around you, holding onto you tightly. As you flail your arms about, Bela still held onto you

“It’s me,” Bela says, calmly, “It’s okay now... I’m right here. Come back to me...”

You finally stopped flailing, your blue flames dissipating and your demon eye slits turning back into their round pupils.

“Be..la?” You call 

You gently place your hand on her head and the other around her. You sink into her touch and fall to your knees, Bela following your movements.

“It’s okay now,” She coos, “I’ve got you love. I’ve got you.”

You choke on your sobs as you hold onto Bela for dear life, sobbing into her shoulder.

“Bela did manage to get you out after all?” Alcina admires her oldest daughter, “And I thought I was going to have to kill her.”

Alcina sips her wine.

“Mother!” Bela growls

“I need to protect my prides and joys,” Alcina states

Bela was sitting in your lap as Daniela is huddled against your side and Cassandra on the floor facing you, Bela and Daniela.

“Do you really have to hog to the human furnace Bela? I’m the one who almost died,” Daniela growls

“She’s my girlfriend,” Bela draws the ‘girlfriend’ card for the millionth time

“How long do you intend on pulling that card against us Bela?” Cassandra asks

“As long as I want,” She smiles down at you

You smile back up at her, “Daniela, I also warmed you up in almost an instant with that amount of flames I emitted earlier. Did that not help?”

“Oh it did,” She smiles

“Then you don’t need to be complaining,” Bela scoffs

“By the way, I am digging the new look on you Hydrangea,” Cassandra says, smiling at you

Black horns with bright blue accents had remained from your blue flame horns or at least under them and a tail remained.

“Do you now Cass?” You smile, “I do too.”

Your tail unconsciously wraps itself around Bela’s waist. You could feel Bela’s fingertips playing with the fluff end of your tail, making your cheeks flush a faint pink.

“Awwww micul meu demon is blushing,” Bela teases

“Ssshut it,” You hiss

You weren’t sure how well you were going to do with that man-thing called Ethan Winters roaming around the castle. However, this was your home. You went to great lengths to protect it. Especially your new family and your girlfriend. Even if you would lose your human, you had Bela. You trust her enough to bring you back, should you lose sight of that human in you.

#bela dimitrescu #bela dimitrescu x reader #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #resident evil village #female reader

[hikarimiyanaga]

The Dimitrescu Ladies and Donna Beneviento with their S/O who is a Reaper.

Requested by the lovely @kristieray

A/N:

I don't know if this makes sense but I just love the idea that there are many reapers out there. So Reader is not alone in being a reaper.

She also has typical Reaper powers and a scythe as a weapon.

Alcina Dimitrescu / Lady Dimitrescu

You were a free-spirited reaper. Most of the other reapers get annoyed at you because sometimes you make the job more interesting.

You get to the village to guide a soul when a certain giant lady got your attention. You gulp as your eyes follow her.

"Y/N!" Your fellow reaper sighs at you. "Stop staring at the giant lady with no soul and guide this one!" The ghost waves at you and you nod.

You guide the ghost to the afterlife and come back to the village. It was weird. Seeing someone with no soul whatsoever. Souls are what makes a human human. If they have no soul? Are they even considered as one?

You roam the Castle and got even curious of the Giant lady. She could tower over you.

"Who goes there?" You hum as Alcina appears before you. She seems so lifelike yet so dead. As if she was on a time still. You decide to appear before her and she gets taken aback.

"No need for any trouble. Lady. I'm just curious."

"Of what, exactly?" You smile at her.

"Of you."

Ever since then, observing Alcina has been your past time. Most of the other Reapers knew that the Village has been designated to you since you kept coming back to it.

You keep roaming the halls and sometimes even play pranks on Bela, Cassandra and Daniela.

Ray, one of your friends who is also a reaper can't believe that you actually are falling for a non-human. You just shrug at her.

You and Alcina become closer as you spend more time together.

The real test came when Ethan and BSAA came to the village. So many souls were wandering around. You quickly phone Ray so she could help the souls and you quickly came to Bela's rescue.

You push her behind you and quickly used your powers to repair the window. One of the reaper's perks.

"Ethan Winters! Don't you dare take another shot!" You state, anger fueling your body. "Don't you dare hurt her."

Ethan is actually trembling as you take another step towards him.

"I know where Rose is. I know how hard it can be to lose a child." You sigh. You've witness too many deaths, heard too many cries. So can anyone really blame you if you try to sometimes cope? To sometimes at least laugh?

You hold out your hand to him. "I'll help you get her back so just stop killing everyone I love."

"What are you?" He asks as he accepts your hand and stand.

"A reaper." You brandish your scythe and Ethan gulps. You ultimately made the four lords and the three Dimitrescu daughters leave the village.

You knew how Ethan would die if you weren't here. You assured them and even kissed Alcina as good measure.

You came back with Ethan all bloodied up but you both survived.

You were scolded and punished but it was well worth it.

You spend more time with Alcina and the girls.

You haven't officiated it but when you show up to work wearing a necklace with a ring on it, well everyone knows who it came from.

Donna Beneviento

Being a reaper can be such a downer. Every day, you witness a death. Every day, you have to guide a soul to the afterlife.

You only stumbled upon the Beneviento house accidentally. You have a curious streak to you that some of the Senior Reapers actually scold you for.

The first time you see Donna, you were curious not only of her abilities to control dolls but also her veil.

You keep observing her and visiting her till one day, you see her take off her veil.

You were surprised, because she was just so beautiful? Why would she wear a veil?

"Who's there?" She asks and you didn't realize that you materialized. You land on the ground and smile at her.

"My name's Y/N. I'm just a curious reaper."

"Reaper?" You nod. You look at Angie and realize.

"Your soul is embedded in them."

"What?" You tilt your head. You thought she knew but apparently she didn't.

"This doll. And all the other dolls? A small part of your soul is embedded in them." You hum. "That's amazing." Donna blushes under her veil.

Ever since then, you visit Donna and Angie whenever you have your day off. Sometimes even when you should be working, you'd stop by for a quick glance at her.

One day, you had a rough day. There was an incident, one that took many lives. Too many souls who cried for their loved ones.

You get inside the Beneviento house and Donna perks up upon seeing you but you didn't have the usual vigor.

You don't tell her what happened but just hug her instead. You try not to cry at her shoulder as she rubs your back.

You don't tell anyone but she became the light at the end of the day.

So to no one's surprise, you asked her to become yours.

Bela Dimitrescu

You were friends with the grand chambermaid of the castle. She saw you once, guiding a maiden that was hunter down.

So once in a while, you visit her. Still concerned over an old friend.

Bela caught your eye when she was reading about your job. Being a reaper.

You hum as she turns the pages then scoff. You materialize right beside her and she yelps in surprise.

"This is bullshit!" You say as you take the book. "Even we don't know why we're chosen! Chosen ones my ass." You grumble.

You sigh. And Bela stands. "Are you a reaper?" You nod.

"Don't worry, I'm not here to take anyone's soul or something like that. Just visiting an old friend."

"An old friend?" You nod. She looks at the book then gets her journal and pen.

"If you don't mind then, I really would like to differentiate facts from fiction." You smile at her curiousity.

It was the start of a friendship between you and the oldest daughter.

You would visit her every chance you can get while Bela is always excited to wait for you.

One day, you see the three Dimitrescus hunting down a maiden and you sigh.

"So you guys are the main reasons why girls are always the ones who are mostly dead around here." Bela blushes as you materialize out of nowhere.

She splutters as she tries to find excuses but you just pat her head and smile sadly. "Must be hard."

She nods and you hug her. You don't tell her with words but you hope your actions are enough. That she'll know.

One day, when you gather your courage, you ask Bela out on a date.

And one day as well, when you've noticed how much you've fallen, you propose to her.

Cassandra Dimitrescu

You were just a wandering reaper. Hoping that you won't come across a soul in needing of guidance to the afterlife.

One night, you see a blur of bugs pass you. You then sense that a soul was nearby. Did that blur just killed someone?

You follow your senses and your guess was right. Only that blur is now a girl and carrying the body of the soul. You guide the soul to the afterlife.

By then, you were intrigued by Cassandra. Something about her just triggers your curiosity.

You keep observing her. Her hobbies, her interest and you were amazed by her paintings.

One day, when you thought she was asleep. You materialize as you admire her painting.

"Who are you!?" She asks as she wields her sickle and you just raise an eyebrow at her.

"Look, I like you a lot but don't even try. I'm too tired and would like to just admire your paintings." Your honesty made her blush.

Ever since then, you would materialize when you visit her and she would look forward to showing off her paintings and drawings to you.

One day, Cassandra was all fidgety and shy. You hum as you materialize. Was something wrong?

"I would like to paint you." She says and you can't help but smile as you nod.

People rarely look forward to meeting you or the other reapers. And those who claim they do are either lying or just too tired.

Each visit with Cassandra was fun, you say random facts about being a reaper and she chimes in things about being a witch.

Before the painting was even finished. The both of you have made it official.

And you look forward to seeing her as much as she looks forward to seeing you.

Daniela Dimitrescu

You were guiding a soul of a maiden when Daniela sees you. She thought you were trying to steal a maiden.

She tried to attack you and the maiden so you brandish your scythe to stop her.

She freezes as she admires your weapon and you raise an eyebrow at her. How did she even see you?

You knew some creatures can naturally see reapers, even some humans can. You shake your head and guide the soul as planned.

You got curious of her so you went back to the castle. You explored as you didn't see her at first.

"Boo!" She tried to surprise you, she really did, but as a reaper, your senses are heightened, so you can sense her presence from a mile away. You just turn to her.

"So you really can see me?"

"Yeah? Doesn't everyone?" You shake your head.

"Not unless they're dead. People typically don't want to see me or my co-workers."

"Co-workers?" You smile.

"You didn't think that I'm the only reaper around, right?"

She drags you to the library and you tell her many stories.

Stories that you heard. Stories that you've experienced. Things that you've seen.

And every single time, she was just amazed.

In return, she tells you about the books she loves. The family she would do anything for.

Alcina, her mother that may be strict and busy sometimes but still protective and warm all the same.

Bela, the eldest who always scolds her for her antics but still listens to some of her ramblings.

And Cassandra, the middle child whom she's competitive with, whom would always treat her as an equal.

There was just something about her while she talked about her family that you kiss her.

She was surprised at first but kisses back nonetheless.

You pull away with a smile and she does the same.

You bask in her presence then kiss her forehead.

"I do hope I'll see you more often now." You laugh at her statement and agree.

You'll visit the castle more often just for her.

A/N:

I am so sorry this took so long.

I've been having headaches for the past few days and I tried everything to chase them away.

I'm feeling a bit better now.

Comments and thoughts are always welcome!

Thank you for reading!

#alcina dimitrescu x reader #donna beneviento x reader #bela dimitrescu x reader #cassandra dimitrescu x reader #daniela dimitrescu x reader #re #re fanfic #resident evil village

[river-of-wine]

You know. I’ve never properly been able to articulate how the Baker family makes me feel in my art, so I’m just gonna type it down here because my Madhouse playthrough has gotten me all emotional over them again and they deserve to be talked about just as much as the lords, because they are also Mother Miranda’s victims wether she knew of their existence or not, and wether she bothered to care if she did.

This is mostly about Jack and Marguerite with some Zoe in there for flavour.

We don’t get to see a lot of Jack and Marguerite before he infection (even infected, actually, they’re only in one scene together but that isn’t really them) but what we do tells us a lot. In the Daughters DLC, they’re in a far more stressful situation that you would guess by how they’re acting. Jack has found two unconscious people in a massive shipwreck, one of which is what he believes to be a little girl, and they have that to worry about on top of the storm that has already wrecked part of their property. But Jack and Marguerite manage to keep the mood light. They know how to make each other smile, they know what jokes to tell when the time is right, they had that whole bed and breakfast plan. They’re genuinely such a sweet couple for the small amount of time we do get to see if them, and it’s very intentional that their first REAL scene together as themselves in the Daughters DLC is just them being a sweet ,arrived couple. That’s who they were.

Marguerite was the first to go (and the first to later die, interestingly enough) and Zoe finds her first after the power outage. Marguerite attacks her daughter and Jack intervenes, but even still he’s not hurting her. He could, and he could have been entirely justified in doing so, but all he does is try to hold Marguerite back and tell Zoe to get rope to presumably tie Marguerite up. Jack is a strong guy as we all know, a single stomp from him would’ve ended the game then and there if the mould hadn’t picked up where Ethan left off. Marguerite isn’t as strong as he is even after being infected, her thing isn’t brute strength as much as it is Give Birth To Bug Baby Bodyguards, so he could’ve knocked Marguerite out or caused some kind of physical harm to her to keep her under control. He didn’t, though, and I’m guessing by his line after Zoe leaves the room (“don’t you make me do something I’ll regret”) that he didn’t even try to. The madwoman with the centipede flailing out of her mouth is still his wife. Jack never wanted to hurt his family.

This is the last we and Zoe ever see of Jack before the infection with the exception of the free my family scene with him and Ethan near the end of the main game, but we do hear him resisting. While Zoe is running from him in the Daughters DLC, he’s talking to Eveline with lines like “shut up, you ain’t real!” and laughter that eventually devolves into crying. I’d argue that there’s evidence of this in the main game too. Jack has some interesting voice lines to say the least, but one of them is him telling someone to shut up through grit teeth. Ethan stays impressively silent through the chase sequences with Jack aside from his breathing, so Jack isn’t talking to him. They are the only two people in the main house, so the only other conclusion I can personally draw is that he is talking to Eveline.

Marguerite doesn’t get to make an appearance alongside her husband when he asks Ethan to free his family because she is fully dead, unlike the rest of her family who are either saved (yay Zoe!) or killed off for good in the DLCs. This doesn’t mean that she doesn’t have her own heart wrenching cutscene though! In the Daughters DLC, Marguerite will stop Zoe to give her the key and apologise, saying that she doesn’t know what’s wrong with her and begging Zoe to go as she desperately fights for control. During this interaction, Marguerite strains to tell Eveline “don’t touch her, don’t hurt my family!”

Anyway, moving in from summaries, it’s made pretty clear from these interactions that Jack and Marguerite remember what they do under Eveline’s control. They are fully conscious but unable to do anything about it. Jack actually explains this in his cutscene with Ethan, and the idea of them being entirely aware of what they’re doing but unable to stop it is just so much worse.

Jack remembers drowning Marguerite, he remembers hunting down his daughter, he remembers cutting his son’s arm off, he remembers killing Ethan.

Marguerite remembers attacking Zoe and violently threatening her in the old house, she remembers infecting Jack, she remembers kidnapping Mia.

They both remember every victim, every moulded, every murder. They couldn’t do anything to stop it, but they remember every second.

The Lord’s were victims and they were prisoners, but they had some semblance of free will. Alcina in particular really revels in how violent she can be, going through maidens like the livestock she keeps them as and delighting in how much she knows she can hurt Ethan. Donna and Moreau are exceptions here (Donna especially, Moreau will kill to impress Mother Miranda and doesn’t seem too guilty about his own Cadou experiments though I doubt he fully understood what he was doing) but Heisenberg and Alcina are really just left to their own devices until the ceremony is brought into things.

The Bakers are different. They were never supposed to be a part of this. They were just a family trying to help a little girl. Their kindness is what killed them.

I’d also like to bring up how much pain they must have been in physically as well as emotionally. Jack sounds like he’s in agony during his mutated boss battle, struggling with all of his lines and crying out for his wife. I’ll re,mid you that by now Eveline has entirely abandoned him and Marguerite as her parental figures in exchange for Mia and Ethan, since Mia is her favourite anyway and now she has a father figure to go along with him. Jack is in this weird in between state where he’s not being controlled but he’s too far gone to the infection to ever regain who he was, so his sobbing for Marguerite and his family is very real emotion slipping through.

I know it’s funny to laugh at the bug pussy jokes, I make them too, but I want to take a moment to just think about that. Marguerite’s womb is tearing through her body. Insects are crawling out of her throat and through her raw flesh. Her limbs grow to unnatural lengths. Her womb is a big hive. It’s ripping through her body. The agony that poor woman must have been in, and sounds like she is in during her boss battle, is hard to consider when she’s taking bites out of you and laying bug hives left and right, but it’s heartbreaking when you do take time to consider it.

And Zoe, the unsung hero of Resident Evil 7, had to sit back and watch it all happen. She had to watch her family slip into madness without her being able to do anything and she coped by refusing to acknowledge them as still being her family at all. It’s Joe who has to remind her that they were still her family and that they did love her deep down in their true hearts in the End of Zoe DLC when she’s finally escaped the property. Zoe is stronger than I think most of us give her credit for, she shouldn’t just be looked at as the bad ending girl because she is honestly so much more than that.

I just love the Baker family, they really deserved better.

#resident evil #resident evil 7 #resident evil biohazard #resident evil 8 #resident evil village #re7 #re biohazard #re8 #re village #jack baker #marguerite baker #ethan winters #zoe baker #I’ve been a fan of this game since it first came out so I’ve been thinking about this for a while

[the-dimitrescu-seamstress]

I Won’t Be Long - A rather long one shot

(I have been working on this, what I call “Magda’s Worst Day”, for a while, and I only recently was inspired to finish it. Hence why I’ve been rather quiet in terms of posts. I can only torture my muse so much.

Basically, this story came about because of the “What have you done to my daughter?!” line. Alcina was in her chambers while saying that, therefore unable to see or know that Ethan was outside. So how did she know what happened to Bela, and who told her? 

My answer? Magda.

I did my best to follow the game’s timeline, but there might have been some condensing or stretching in order to make things fit. I’ve also included some brief cameos from other OCs Magda has interacted with. 

Please note, this is not an “Ethan Hate” story. Magda is simply reacting as one would in their given situation. Is this a sad story? Yes, in parts. Will you hate me for writing this? Maybe. Will you still enjoy reading it? I hope so.)

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“You must hide. The man is a danger, and I wish for you to be safe. Do your best to keep out of all this. If he approaches you, play the helpless victim. Do not help him, but please do not hinder him either.”

“But I want you to stay safe.”

“You know that I always do, dearest. He is nothing but a man.”

“You literally just said he was a danger.” The press of Bela’s lips against Magda’s was enough the hush the smaller woman and soften her demeanor. “Kissing me in order to maintain the last word is technically cheating, you know.”

“True, but I did learn it from you,” the witch smiled. “I won’t be long.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

That conversation happened a little over an hour ago. Since then, Magda had quietly paced the floor of her workroom, occasionally stopping to listen for any sound outside her door. She prayed she’d hear the familiar drone of flies, but nothing came. Everything was unnervingly quiet. Magda did her best to reassure herself. She kept telling herself that the man was outnumbered three to one, that the girls would work together and remove him as a threat, that they couldn’t be killed.

The sudden barrage of nearby gunfire and shattering glass ripped away any comfort she had tried to retain. It wasn’t terribly close, but then again it wasn’t terribly far either. Worse yet, there was no celebratory laughter that accompanied the silence that soon followed. Worry gnawed at Magda’s insides, and she did the one thing that Bela had asked her not to do. She unlocked the door to her workshop, and left her hiding place.

Magda went through the halls in sock feet, wanting to make as little sound as possible. The last thing she needed was to run into the man by accident. Thankfully, the courtyard was deserted. Freezing, especially without shoes or a coat, but it was empty. Even better, the door leading to the dining room was still locked. That meant the intruder had not found a key or harassed one of the few servants who had a skeleton key to the various entryways. Magda was one of those servants. Being a seamstress, and a trusted one at that, gave her a few perks.

As much as she wanted to rush in, Magda knew better. She turned the key slowly, as the locks were heavy and made a distinct and rather loud click when undone. The door she also took time opening, just in case there was an armed madman standing on the other side. Finding none, she closed and relocked the door behind her. Best to keep him confined.

Cassandra’s laughter coming from the Main Hall signaled that she was keeping the intruder well occupied and, rather than risk an interruption, Magda turned to the much plainer door which lead to the kitchen.

Normally the kitchen was a warm place, full of the sounds and smells of cooking food for the human staff, but the rush of cold air that blew in as she entered confirmed a fear she had. Hurrying past the preparation table and ducking under the cuts of drying meat, Magda stopped short in the doorway to the connected storage room. What she saw squeezed her heart like a vice, making it difficult to breath.

Shattered glass and the remains of broken boards framed a large, collapsed pile of frozen flies. The room wavered and suddenly felt hot, despite the open windows. Maybe… maybe this wasn’t Bela, she tried to reason. It wasn’t Cassandra, as she had heard her laughter not moments ago. A small, hateful voice in her head whispered that this was Daniela, that Bela was still alive inside the castle, perhaps happily carving up the man with her sister, and what laid before her was Daniela. Magda hated to even think that, but right now she was mental begging the powers that be for that to be the truth.

Step by hesitant step, she approached the pile, acting as a windbreak when she knelt between it and the broken window. Tears began to cloud her vision as she saw pale yellow flies mixed in amongst the brown and black insects. Again, her heart wrenched inside her chest. Her skin burned and the walls of the room closed in as her anger grew and burst forth in a ragged scream of rage, sorrow, and anguish.

Why?! Why did he do this?! How did he even know?! Did he just get lucky with a stray bullet breaking a pane of glass? Why did he kill her? Why did he go after her? The cold would have been enough to stop her! She would have stopped the chase, and he could have gotten away, but he still decided to kill her! He killed her while she was hurting! He killed her while she was cold, alone, and separated from everyone. He killed Magda’s stea mică… her little star…

He didn’t give a shit about anything or anyone.

Magda’s guttural scream was echoed by a rasping, undead one crawling up from the once boarded up passageway that led to the dungeon. In her emotional state, she hadn’t put two and two together. The boards were smashed going into the storage room rather than out into the passageway. The man had come up from below, meaning he had created a potential access point for the thralls to get upstairs.

“Căcat!” she cursed, scrambling as quickly and as quietly for a container in the other room. It would take the thralls a bit of time to coordinate and stumble their way up the stairs, but they would eventually make it and Magda was not about to let those disgusting things trample all over what was left of Bela.

She would also need to tell the Countess.

Grabbing one of the large basins used to hold drained blood, as well as any discarded towels or cloth she could find, Magda carefully moved every single fly she found into the container, scouring the floor for any the wind may have blown about, but always keeping a careful eye on the dungeon passage. The last thing she needed was to be attacked by those damn thralls as she finished.

The basin was… not as heavy as she thought it would be. That knowledge made her stomach sink and made her feel that much worse. She was carrying her love’s body, and it wasn’t heavy. It needed to be. The woman was seven feet tall! It should have been heavier! These stupid, unimportant thoughts made her tears start to once again fall as she returned to the dining room. “Dammit. I’m sorry, Bela,” she mumbled as a few hot tears fell on the flies.

One twitched in response.

Magda stopped at that. She was seeing things. In her grief, her mind was clearly playing tricks on her. Bela was dead. The cold killed flies. She was dead and the tear hitting the fly only made it look like it moved.

That was when the worst feeling in all of creation latched itself onto her.

Hope.

Leaning in close, she breathed a few times on a small clump of flies, letting her warm breath roll over them. And then she waited… Her heart pounding in her chest as she watched for something. Anything.

…A leg spasmed.

It was small, almost imperceptible, but Magda took it as a sign. A possibility. A tiny one at that, but she grabbed onto it and refused to let it go. Hope was evil like that.

Covering the basin to shield the flies from the cold, she ventured back across the courtyard and towards Alcina’s chambers, locking any and all doors behind her because fuck this man and his doings. Make his shit life harder.

The Countess’ chambers were empty, which sent a chill of dread and terror down Magda’s spine. Had she fallen to the man as well or was she simply hunting him along with her daughters? Should she wait for her to appear? Right now, searching the castle was not the ideal thing to do, as she was unarmed, human, and she had no idea if the intruder would have mercy on her if she encountered him. Thankfully, her questions were answered as familiar heavy footfalls were heard coming up the stairs. Now all she had to do was explain to Alcina what she thought was possible. And hopefully not die in the the telling.

“If I can’t, I’ll do my best to bleed on you as I die, sweetness,” she told the basin of flies, trying to make a joke and do her best to smile. The latter crumbled as soon as the chamber door opened.

“Countess?” Magda’s voice was weak and shaky, full of fear, and she immediately regretted opening her mouth due to the look on Alcina’s face. It was one of surprise mixed with displeasure, which made sense as Magda should still be locked in her sewing room, not running around as she was currently doing.

“Are you not aware of our current situation, Magdalena?” Her tone was cool and reserved, as if she were waiting on Magda’s answer in order to decide the best manner of action to take.

“I am very much aware of the situation, Countess. Which was why I came here as quickly as I could.” she replied, uncovering Bela’s remains. The candelabra the taller woman had been holding streaked towards Magda’s head and the seamstress barely had time to duck.

“What have you done to my daughter?!” she roared, lunging forward and grabbing Magda by her neck. For a moment, fear and terror filled the seamstress’ mind, but she somehow managed to find her voice despite the vice-like grip upon her throat.

“It wasn’t me… the man… did this… the flies… not… not dead…” Darkness had started to creep around the edges of her vision before Alcina finally released her. Landing on the ground hurt, but the deep breath of fresh air she took afterwards was incredibly sweet.

“Explain yourself,” Alcina growled, stretching out those two words in a low and menacing fashion, one not at all suitable for a woman of her standing, but perfect for a mother seeking justice for her child.

“I heard the fight,” Magda rasped, throat still sore. “It was in… the kitchen. I found… Bela. I thought she was dead… but some flies reacted to my tears…. and warm breath. There’s a chance. That cold state they go into. She told me about it. Bela might not be dead. Only hibernating. If she can be warmed, maybe she can be saved.” Magda watched Alcina, eyes never turning away or blinking too rapidly. She didn’t want to give the woman any excuse or reason not to believe her.

The quiet between them lasted for what seemed an eternity, only to be interrupted by a low rumbling and draining of liquid coming from the next room over. They both heard it, though Alcina only gave the most subtle of glances in its direction. The pool in the Hall of Ablution had been emptied. The Countess’ iron grip was suddenly around Magda’s arm, pulling her back to her feet.

“You will take my daughter back to your workshop and you will keep her warm,” she hissed. “You will not leave her side, not even for a moment. Should I find you disobeying my instructions and wandering these halls while that impudent wretch is still in my castle, your life is forfeit. Is that understood?” Magda nodded, fear in her eyes. She picked up the basin, replacing the cover before being roughly escorted out of the chamber.

Once safely back in her workshop, Magda set about gathering her thickest fabrics; the wools, flannels, gabardines, and anything else heavy she had. She removed the blankets and comforter from her bed and did what she could to form a nest or bed for the flies. For a moment, she even considered cutting her forearm and dribbling some blood onto them, but if they weren’t moving then they weren’t feeding, and the last thing she wanted to risk was them somehow drowning in her own blood.

Magda did her best to obey the Countess’ instructions, as she was not about to risk Alcina’s wrath, not with her life on the line. However, if she did end up being wrong about Bela, maybe it would be better to join her in death. What was she thinking? Magda likely would die anyways. But, in terms of when, it would just depend on Alcina’s mood. So, the seamstress sat in silence, waiting and praying to hear the soft buzzing of fly wings as they slowly warmed up.

Instead, she heard someone faintly plinking the keys of the piano in the Opera Hall. Rather badly at that. Naturally, the all too familiar footfalls of an enraged Alcina soon followed. He must not have realized she was hunting him, Magda thought. Because what idiot would actually take the time to play the piano if they were actively trying to stay hidden? The brief retort of gunfire seemed to prove her point. Although she could only hear what was going on, Magda still had a brief chuckle as she imagined the man scrambling for his life away from Alcina.

Not that he had many places to run to. It was either to Magda’s workshop or the library, and as the noise of confrontation began to distance itself from her hiding place, she breathed a sigh of relief. The library it was then.

“How has this man managed to survive this long?” she softly asked Bela’s remains. As if in answer, gunshots rang out once more and the seamstress stood, wondering who he was fighting now. The previously reassuring knowledge that bullets couldn’t harm anyone in this house re-entered Magda’s head… but it was quickly dashed to pieces as she glanced back at Bela. Who had he gone after now? She needed to know.

For five long minutes, Magda stood at her sewing room door, with it cracked open enough to listen. But she heard nothing. No footsteps, no gunfire, no sounds of anyone.

If Alcina caught her, it would be death, a voice in her head reasoned.

So she simply would avoiding getting caught, another replied.

The distance to the library wasn’t far, and she could easily hear the Countess’ footsteps well in advance, allowing her to hide as she approached.

“I’ll be back soon, stea mică. I won’t be long,” she softly told the flies. A few seemed to twitch in response. God, she hoped that she was right in the foolish ‘not dead, only hibernating’ theory. Basin and flannel cloth in hand, Magda made her way to the library, hoping she wouldn’t need what she carried.

Her heart sank upon feeling the chilly air inside. Papers were scattered, vases lay shattered, and, near enough to be in the light cast from the glass skylight which acted as a central decorative point for the room, was another large pile of immobile flies. Magda actually needed a moment to sit and collect herself with this discovery. Little flies, whose bodies glittered in the light, matched Daniela’s hair color.

Alcina will weep, Magda thought as she did her best to keep her own tears from falling once more. Gathering up these remains took longer than Bela’s, but not because they were scattered about. No. For as messy and wild as Daniela was in life, she had collapsed in a neat little pile. It was the weight and knowledge that this was the baby of the family which made this such a long and arduous task.

“You’re not alone, Dani. I’m not letting you be alone. I’m taking you to your sister. You’ll be safe in my sewing room,” She told the flies. Could this have been the first sign of madness? After all, Magda was talking to a container full of potentially dead insects. She recalled the character of Renfield from Dracula. The man went mad in an effort to serve and worship his vampire lord. Perhaps she was becoming something along the same lines. Perhaps she was already dead; killed by the intruder, and this was her own personal hell of gathering up mounds of flies throughout the castle for the rest of eternity, all the while avoiding Alcina. If Bela’s nest was not in the workshop when she returned to it, Magda figured this terrible thought would be reality.

Thankfully, upon opening the door to her workshop, the comforter and blanket that Bela was nestled in was still where the seamstress had left it. So maybe she was not dead and this was not hell. Little miracles were all she could hope for right now.

Magda took her time making Daniela’s nest, listening for anything that would signal they were victorious and this man-thing was dead and gone. She shook her head a little as she used that term. Normally, Magda did not join in on calling men that, but this was a special case. This individual didn’t seem human. The fact that he could best two of the daughters worried her, and a dread feeling that, unless mother and daughter combined forces, Cassandra could fall as well filled Magda’s stomach like a lead weight.

The daughters were monsters, yes. By the classic definition, that’s what they were, and Magda did not deny any of it. Blood stained dresses, screams and laughter coming from the dungeon, or even the rare times when Bela’s kisses had a slight hint of copper or something raw tasting to them. They weren’t normal. Alcina was also a monster; perhaps even more of one. The height, the claws, the gray skin that she hid beneath layers of foundation. All four of them shared that same inhuman appetite for blood and flesh. But, they also had human tendencies. They laughed, they cried, they screamed in fright the odd times they were scared or taken by surprise.

Then again, humans could be monsters as well. History showed how terrible they could be. Magda was certainly no angel, and she had the odd feeling that this man wasn’t entirely a good person either. Maybe she was wrong. Magda didn’t know. All she knew was that she was trying to save the small group of friends and family she had left in this world.

Minutes ticked by and still her wing of the castle remained quiet. The longer it stayed quiet, the more she worried. If the man was dead, Alcina would have come to her workshop to see to her daughter. But if the quiet persisted? Magda didn’t want to think on that.

“Should I go out and search?” she asked her charges. Of course, no reply came. Magda thought she saw more movement from Bela’s flies, but she had no idea if they all needed to be restored to a proper temperature, like a hive mind, before they could respond. With the way Magda had layered everything, they would warm up slowly and naturally. No artificial heaters or fires were being used, as she didn’t want to risk damaging them. After watching both mounds for a few minutes, the seamstress nodded, knowing once more what she had to do.

The castle had an unusual quietness, a stillness she had never felt before. There was always at least some sort of background noise; the shuffling of servants, the daughters’ laughter, the general noise of a home being lived in. Where was everyone? Had the man killed them all? Or were Sylvia, Andre, Samuel, Bianca, and the rest hiding in the servant’s quarters, having barricaded themselves in? Vulga likely would have escaped into the walls upon hearing the first gunshot, so she was probably safe.

At least there would be some survivors of Castle Dimitrescu.

Finding Cassandra took a long time. Besides hiding from both the constantly patrolling Alcina and the seemingly trigger happy mad man, Magda had to think like the middle child, who had the tendency to spend time in the oddest of places. While Bela and Daniela could be found in seemingly normal locations in the castle, Cassandra explored. She found hidden areas that were unknown to most of the inhabitants, hard to get to, or simply dilapidated enough and impossible to access unless you could fly. Magda assumed she enjoyed being hard to find.

The seamstress had searched damn near every room, after having briefly hidden for a few heart-pounding minutes in one of the dressing room wardrobes upon hearing Alcina’s approach. Currently, she was sitting in the back hallway, taking a moment to try and mentally collect herself. Magda hated failing, and right now she was absolutely in sync with the idea that she was a failure. Cassandra, as far as she knew, had simply disappeared. Had the man shattered a window and thrown her outside? If that was the case, then the chance of finding the young woman dropped to impossible odds. The castle was surrounded by woods and cliffs with sheer drops. Maybe… if the snow and cold somehow preserved her through the winter, Cassandra would show up in the spring, like crocuses.

At that thought, Magda let slip a sharp little laugh while, at the same time, her eyes began to water. Cassandra would hate being compared to a flower. She would absolutely have hated it. And for as much as Magda wanted to continue to both laugh and cry right now, it would certainly draw unwanted attention from one of two parties currently in the castle. Possibly both.

Wiping her face with her sleeve, she allowed herself a few calming breaths before pushing herself back to her feet and continuing this fruitless search.

The slight draft blowing on Magda’s hand from beneath the door stopped her. Yes, castles were drafty, but not this one. Alcina made certain to insulate everything as best she could so her daughters could survive the winter in relative comfort. But, there was a definite bit of air movement coming from under this door.

Opening it, Magda found the Statue of Pleasure…. with an animal skull in place of the sacrifice’s head. Not even Cassandra or Daniela would be foolish enough to ruin one of their mother’s statues. So, on top of being a murderer, this man enjoyed defacing both art and private property. What the fuck was wrong with him?

The indignity aside, the windows in this room were intact, so where was the draft coming from? The only other option was the fireplace, but if the chimney was that badly cracked, why wasn’t it sealed? Crouching in front of it, the reason quickly became apparent as the entire back of the fireplace has been removed, and the hole led to a set of stairs.

“Cassandra, you little shit.”

Crawling through the passageway, Magda entered what looked to be the remains of a hidden armory, or at least a place to stash and work on things a certain daughter didn’t want her mother to learn about or her sisters to interfere with. It would have been a lovely little room had it not been for the gaping hole in the wall, letting in all the cold air. And there, near enough to the stairway, laid what was left of Alcina’s middle child.

“At least you were smart enough to fight him in a room without windows,” Magda commented as she gathered her up. Cassandra was vicious and violent when she wan’t to be, but she was also calculative and observant. Perhaps that’s why she lasted as long as she did. Had she sacrificed her sisters in order to study this man? If Magda were the girl’s mother, they would definitely be having a talk about that later.

With the last of the Dimitrescu daughters safely bundled up, Magda began to make her way back to the workshop. As it was nearly on the other side of the castle with no direct route, she took great care to move as quietly as possible. She paused repeatedly, and scanned the Main Hall, looking for signs of the the woman in white. For as large as she was, Alcina was a stalking beast. She could be incredibly quiet if she wished to be.

As she crouched in one the small balconies, Magda heard movement coming from below her on the floor of the main hall. However, it didn’t sound… right. It couldn’t have been the intruder, unless he was gravely injured. But If that were the case, Alcina wouldn’t have been far behind, and Magda didn’t hear her at all. Speaking of the Countess, it certainly wasn’t her, as the noise was far too small to be anyone remotely her size.

Chancing a look, Magda peeked over the edge, and a soft gasp of surprise, sounding so devastatingly loud in this silence, escaped her lips as she saw what was beneath her. Luana, the castle’s head servant, the personal watchdog for the Countess, laid collapsed on the marble floor, clothes stained red with blood. Where had they been all this time?! Magda had scoured entire castle… Had they been outside and only just now managed to get in? This just made her life ten times harder. Not only did she have Cassandra to carry back, but now there was the issue of Luana as well.

She could have left them where they were. She could have. After all, Magda was currently disobeying orders and Alcina was already displeased by her previous actions. She should have taken Cassandra back to her workshop and then returned. By then, perhaps Alcina would have discovered Luana herself and… done what? She was hellbent on hunting down the intruder. Would she even have stopped and tended to her servant? Magda couldn’t say. She also had no idea what would have happened if the man found them first. Would he finish the job he clearly started? In all likelihood? Yes.

Tucking Cassandra safely in an out of the way corner by the top of the stairs, Magda made her way down to her fellow servant, glancing into the Hall of the Four as she went.

The doors leading to the Temple of Worship were open.

In all her years there, Magda had rarely seen those exterior doors stand open as they were now. The Countess was strict in her orders about that portion of the castle being forbidden to everyone save herself, and now the seamstress was watching her tall figure ascend the temple stairs. An unknown fear filled Magda with dread at that sight, and she hurried towards Luana.

Rolling the head servant over onto their back, Magda gave them a quick look over. Buckshot, and a few normal bullet holes, peppered Luana’s blood soaked torso. A normal human would have been dead from such injuries and blood loss, but Luana was thankfully not fully human, rather a Lycan-cross. They usually preferred not to speak of their heritage, but Magda hoped they would be happy to have it just this once.

“Luana? Luana, dear, can you hear me?” she asked, opening their eyes to check for any sign of life. She was met with slurred, half-conscious Portuguese. “You know damn well I don’t speak that, but right now any response is a good one, so I’ll take it.” The bleeding had stopped and their breathing seemed normal from what she could tell; no gurgles, bloody froth in the mouth, or sounds of difficulty.

“…Apologies…” they said in Romanian, doing their best to sit up.

“You’re fine. I’m just happy to see someone else, aside from the Countess, alive,” she replied. Their uniform already ruined, Magda removed Luana’s jacket and began tearing off bandage strips. Or at least she started to, as a distant crash and a devastating roar from outside quickly stopped her efforts. Whatever injuries seemed to be afflicting Luana were momentarily forgotten as they did their best to stand, only to collapse almost immediately. As they attempted it a second time, Magda moved to support them. She didn’t even say a word or caution them to take it slow as the two of them made it to the open doorway.

And what they saw? There were no words.

It was huge. A great beast, vast and terrible, with an immense wingspan, lashing tail, and a toothy, gaping maw circled the top of the temple tower; sometimes flying, sometimes crawling along the stonework. It was pale white with streaks of pink flesh, slick and glossy looking as the sun hit it. Muscles bulged as if barely contained by the skin, as tendrils curled and whipped about in an independent fury. It looked both cancerous and incomplete while at the same time horrifically beautiful and awe-inspiring in some inexplicable way. And to top it off, as if in an absurd gilding of the lily, Alcina’s upper torso, looking flayed and monstrous, erupted from between the beast’s shoulder blades. Her voice was distorted, both by rage, vengeance, and sorrow, but also by this transformation. She was lost in this madness, fully given in to it.

Magda’s knees gave way, and she fell to the floor, unintentionally bring Luana down with her. The seamstress was lost. How was this even possible? How had Alcina become this gargantuan beast? Could she change back? A sudden sick feeling rolled over her as all these questions and more filled her head. She was sure Luana was thinking similar things.

All they could do was watch this battle as it unfurled. Stonework and roofing tiles fell freely as the dragon creature did its best to pursue its quarry. Gunfire was heard regularly as Alcina taunted, threatened, and cackled in her torment. The fight moved steadily upwards, with more and more of the building being destroyed until a bloodcurdling shriek was heard and something structural gave way.

Multiple somethings.

Large plumes of dust, broken window, and cracks forming in the side of the building were the indication that the dragon had fallen through all of the interior floors of the temple, landing with a massive crash.

Magda and Luana looked at each other and then back towards the temple. “How about we wait and listen for movement?” the seamstress started to offer, but the head servant was already stumbling towards the building, trying desperately not to once more fall onto their face. They didn’t get very far before collapsing, but Magda was there to lift them back up. “How about a compromise? We get to the temple door and listen before barging in?” At that, Luana nodded a little sheepishly.

If Magda had thought the castle had been quiet, the inside of the temple was a veritable tomb. She just hoped it wasn’t a literal one. At least not for Alcina. Let the man be buried under all that rubble. Unfortunately, her wish was not yet granted, as she saw the limping figure of a man leaving through the lower level door. All she needed was a gun. Why didn’t she or Luana have a pistol? One bullet through the back of his damned head, that’s all that was needed and all this terribleness would be over with.

But instead, Magda just stood there, watching him leave before her gaze turned to Alcina’s body. It was still that dragon creature, but she had just come to accept that this was the Countess. Luana was already making their way down to her, carefully using the broken rubble as a stairway. Magda reluctantly followed suit.

The beast may have remained, but the human torso that was Alcina? That was gone, crumbled to ashes. The body was also still. Seeing that, Magda sat down hard, shocked by it all. Luana at least made it to the corpse, but they soon collapsed as tears began to fall.

Theirs was an ugly crying, one that Magda had never heard from them before. It was a full body shaking, heaving from the gut sort of crying. Luana had been serving House Dimitrescu since they were a teenager, and they saw Alcina as a mother figure, so Magda could only imagine what they were going through.

Letting them grieve for a few minutes, Magda eventually stood and walked over to Luana, placing a hand on their shoulder.

It was then that the beast took a great, shuddering breath.

Instincts quickly took hold and Magda scrambled backwards, not wanting to risk being eaten, while Luana did the opposite and moved closer, overjoyed to see some sign of life coming from the creature. She expected to hear a scream or cry of pain from Luana, imagining the creature lunging forward and devouring the head servant in one or two gulps. But instead, when the seamstress looked back, she saw Luana petting its head, saying soft things to it in Portuguese as it just laid there, barely making any noise.

“You are either very brave, very trusting, or very stupid to be petting that thing,” Magda hissed, keeping her voice down low, as if raising it would trigger the beast to attack them both.

“It knows me… us. It won’t hurt us,” Luana replied calmly.

“How do you know that? How is it even still alive?! Alcina’s torso is gone! The thing should be dead!” In response to Magda’s outburst, the thing growled, slightly turning its head in her direction. “… All right, I’m clearly wrong in my assessment of life and death. But that still doesn’t explain why or how.”

“Separate functioning systems? Maybe it all… pinched shut when the torso disintegrated? Like a limb or a tree branch that’s dying? Save the main body?” Luana offered.

“I would have thought Alcina would have been the main body. Can she regenerate from this?” Magda asked. Luana simply shrugged.

“We take her back to the castle and see what happens over the next few hours or days.”

“Easier said than done,” Magda replied, gesturing to the rock they scaled down and the all too small door was the only other exit.

“If it is a simple creature, then it will respond to simple things like food. She will need to eat anyways. We lure it back with food,” Luana reasoned.

The kitchen was thusly raided and a good bit of the meat that was there removed; both cured and what was still fresh. Amazingly, despite having heard the shrieks of the thralls earlier, the kitchen was now devoid of them. Had they wandered back down into the dungeon after finding no prey? Or were they all dead? Magda could only wonder as she glanced towards that corridor, her eyes wanting to linger on the spot where she found Bela. No, she thought. No, Bela was safe in the sewing room with her sisters. Magda had made a brief detour to deposit Cassandra there, as well as retrieve a pair of shoes for herself, before joining back up with Luana in the kitchen.

Along with the meat, they also brought along two barrels from the tasting room, placed at strategic points along the route back to the castle, in case extra bribery was needed for the beast. By the time they had finished setting everything up, the Alcinadragon… for what else would you call it?… was on its feet, clumsily walking around its temporary enclosure. Naturally, after throwing down the first piece of meat, with it being consumed in a single bite, the beast’s attention snapped to the two of them as it began the effort of climbing its way up towards freedom.

Magda knew better than to run. After all, doing so would likely trigger hunting and chasing instincts. But still, once the massive forelimbs appeared and the beast pulled itself up and over the lip of the hole, she made sure to be a good distance away, keeping Luana between it and her.

While this was something she normally would never state, on pain of death, it was rather easy to lead this version of Alcina around by her stomach. So long as they had a trail of food, she was easy to please and keep relatively docile. In the end, they only needed one barrel as a treat, though it wasn’t quite that. As they passed it on the bridge, the creature must have smelled the contents, or perhaps recognized the shape…. but how that was possible, Magda had no idea, as it had no discernible eyes right now. Either way, the tooth lined maw easily engulfed the barrel and bit down, splintering the wood and draining the contents quickly. Afterwards, the creature seemed more agreeable.

Maybe it had just needed a drink.

By the time they had entered the Hall of The Four, the remaining castle staff had emerged from their hiding places. There were no reprimands or excuses given, only looks and sighs of relief. Bianca, Sylvia, and Mihaela quickly flocked to the form of the Countess who was currently gorging on wine and meat. Samuel latched themself onto Magda with a tight hug; one that she was not exactly ready to receive, but she was also not about to deny them this comfort. Vulga also soon joined in, likely in an effort to make Magda feel even more uncomfortable.

“If you two insist on being this close to me, I will be putting you to work,” Magda told them both before taking them to her workshop and retrieving the three sisters. Sam took Daniela, Vulga carried Cassandra, and Magda held Bela close. The urge to place the daughters next to their mother was great, but caution won out instead. Who knew if or how the Alcinadragon would react to seeing her children as nothing more than collections of flies? Yes, they were becoming more active, but there was no indication they were on their way to reforming back into their human shapes. They just need time, Magda thought. That’s all. They’ve been through trauma, and they just need time to recover.

Even though it was not yet midday, It was decided that everyone would spend the night in the Main Hall. It was the inner most room, central to most of the castle, and it was big enough to house all of them comfortably, even a dragon with a massive wingspan. There would be safety in numbers.

“Do you think he’ll come back?” Magda asked Luana quietly.

“No. As far as he is concerned, everyone here is dead. Whether that is true or not…” They paused, not wanting to say the unthinkable. Understanding, Magda nodded and finished their sentence.

“…It’s best to keep up that appearance.”

“Precisely. We keep everyone centralized for the time being. Close off and safeguard the exit points, stay quiet, and wait. With any luck, things will be different twenty-four from now. Or at least there will be an indication of a difference.” The look the two of them shared was one of tiredness and threadbare hope. There wasn’t much left to run on, but so long as the lady of the house still drew breath, no matter what form she took, they still had their duties to attend to.

“Even if the man isn’t coming back, no one is going down to the outer gatehouse and drawbridge by themselves. One of the lords is currently weakened, you are still recovering from being shot multiple times, and while my mind may be playing into the medieval hierarchy of things, I wouldn’t put it past other things going wrong and our current situation being taken advantage of. We’ll go together. It’ll be faster that way.”

Despite initial outward appearances, the castle was rather impenetrable once locked down. A drawbridge, three heavy doors of varying designs dividing the exterior gatehouse, a massive portcullis at the Carriage Gate, and a smaller, but just as fortified, portcullis on the interior of the entrance hall that kept the front doors closed from the outside. For all intents and purposes, they would be safe and secure.

More of the staff wanted to assist in the closing of the gatehouse, but they were dissuaded by a few other duties; securing the door leading to the temple, keeping an eye on Alcina, and gathering up any supplies they would need for the night. They were also greeted by another unexpected task upon opening the castle doors.

In the middle of the Carriage Gate rested four crates; three of a similar size and one that was noticeably larger. Nothing had been ordered, and the Duke had packed up his caravan, vacating his usual spot some time during the battle with Alcina. Yet the note tacked onto the larger crate was in his elaborate, flowing script:

I’d wager these treasures are of more use to you than I. Think of this as a thank you for your years of patronage, as well as a farewell gift for the time being. Keep them safe.

Bonne chance,

The Duke

The lids came off easily, and inside, nestled amongst packing material were… statues? Odd ones at that. Beautiful, crystalline, and perhaps a bit macabre, they were three busts and one massive torso with what seemed to be very familiar proportions. Either the Duke had a sick sense of humor or this was something else.

“Take these inside,” Magda instructed, still a bit confused as to what they were. “Be careful with them. Don’t damage them.” She then hurried to catch up with Luana who had decidedly not stopped to investigate the crates.

While neither of them ventured out into the village, the lack of the noisy day to day life that would normally filter up from it was obvious and more than a bit unnerving. Yes, there were the occasional barks and growls from whatever lycans were still prowling around the buildings, but there were no sounds of people. That lack of background noise twisted Magda’s stomach and made her raise the drawbridge that much faster.

“Tomorrow… Tomorrow, we will search the village. Look for survivors,” Luana reassured her.

“I don’t think there are any other survivors,” she replied morosely, as her thoughts immediately went to the one person outside the castle that Magda actually cared about. Stay safe, Donna. Please God, keep her safe.

With each barricade put into place, Magda felt both safer and more alone… cut off from everything. But this was what needed to be done. As the final portcullis fell into place in the entrance hall, a burden lifted from her shoulders. There was still that sick feeling in her stomach, but her back felt lighter.

Why? She didn’t know. She didn’t deserve to feel better.

Everything was starting to blur together, and she didn’t care anymore. Magda remembered entering the Main Hall and seeing the Alcinadragon curled protectively around the crystalline torso that shared the measurements of the Countess, growling at anyone who came near it. She didn’t care or wonder why. Someone called out her name as she climbed the stairs, but she ignored it, legs carrying her faster and faster as she went. She didn’t want to talk. Her head, neck, and chest felt hot. She felt smothered and unable to breathe. She needed to get away.

By the time she was in the Hall of Joy, Magda was running. The library was a blur, as was the opera hall. Her eyes were open, but they saw nothing, as if her brain was on automatic. All she cared about was getting away.

She slammed the door to her workroom shut, turning the lock as well in order to keep herself physically, mentally, and emotionally away from everyone. She managed to go a few steps into the room before her knees gave way and she collapsed into a heap. That’s when the floodgates of emotion just opened up. She screamed and wailed, tears falling uncontrollably. All the pain and the burdens accumulated from this day, from these past few hours, came roaring out.

She had no idea how long she cried, nor how many in the castle heard her. She didn’t know if anyone knocked on the door to check on her, nor did she care. She would have ignored it anyway. At one point early on in her anguish, her stomach heaved. Only bile came out, as she had eaten nothing this entire day, but the wretching continued until even that was entirely discarded from her system. She cried until her tears ran dry; until only hiccuping breathes and weary, burning eyes remained.

Throughout all of this, there was one constant in Magda’s mind. She knew that if anyone, and she did mean anyone, interrupted her in this moment, there would be hell to pay. The staff had seen her mad and frustrated before, but they had never seen her rage. If anyone tried to comfort or hold her right now, they would be met with punches, thrown objects, and a slew of filthy, hate-filled words that she would likely regret at a later date. Perhaps even shears to the intruder’s throat, if she could reach them in time.

She didn’t want comfort. She wanted this pain. She wanted to hurt.

But most of all, she wanted her Bela.

Eventually though, the pain did subside. It slowly dulled and dissipated. To say it was completely gone would have been a lie, but it had settled for the time being. Magda’s body ached, as did her head. The floor beside her was a mess, but she made an effort and took the time to clean up the bile. She couldn’t stand having such a thing lingering in her workshop, no matter her mood or the circumstances. The process also helped the seamstress return to a semblance of herself.

After a change of clothes, a quick washing of her face and brushing of her teeth, Magda made her way back to the main hall. Samuel was lingering in the hallway, shuffling around a bit in an effort to entertain themself while probably waiting for Magda to re-emerge.

“Hey, Magda? Are… are you okay? Do you need anything? A hug maybe?” they asked, holding their arms open. Magda just shook her head and continued on. “Ice cream, maybe? We could sit and watch a movie together Not a scary movie or anythin’, but I’ll sit and watch something you’d like if it makes you feel better.” At that, Magda just sighed.

“Sam? Right now, what I want? I can’t have. So, please? Just let me go sit in peace next to what is left of the woman I love. All right?”

“Yeah, um…. about that? Okay, so we brought the statue things in like you said, but as soon as we did, the dragon thing that Lady D turned into? Yeah, she got real defensive and grabbed the big statue and isn’t giving it up. So, we then took the smaller ones and the fly piles got really active. Like super, super active. I mean, they’re not buzzin’ around like normal or human, but-“ Magda didn’t even wait for Sam to finish. Once more, she was off and running.

The daughters were on the opposite side of the fireplace from the Alcinadragon, though pretty much everyone was on the opposite side from her, as she took up an entire length of the hall. Samuel had actually been right, as the flies were more active since the last time she saw them. While not swarming, they were crawling over the statues, or rather, individual statues. Now that she was able to look at them properly, Magda could discern the shapes of the daughters in the torsos. Bela’s she knew well enough, and Daniela was a bit slighter than Cassandra… and all the while the appropriate flies were crawling over the appropriate statues. She still had no idea what they were for, but clearly they held some importance.

Whether it had been intentional or not, someone had set Bela in the alcove under the stairs, allowing a bit of privacy and seclusion if it was needed. Obviously, Samuel or someone else had taken Magda’s breakdown into consideration. Normally, the seamstress did not enjoy having special things done for her, but at the moment, she was not about complain.

Sitting on a blanket with her back against the wall, Magda actually managed to take a breath and relax for the first time that day.

They were alive.

Whether due to the added heat, time to recover, or whatever these odd statues were, the daughters were alive and moving around. They would be all right. The Alcinadragon had a forelimb curled around her own statue, surrounded by her favorite maidens, and was practically asleep, if her breathing was any indication. She would be all right. None of the servants had been gravely injured in the long term. The current state of the castle was an odd miracle, but it was a miracle nonetheless.

Looking at the crystalline statue beside her, Magda gently placed her fingertips upon it, in hopes that it would pulse or feel abnormally warm. That wasn’t the case, but one of the pale yellow flies that had been idly traversing the torso’s clavicle almost immediately changed direction and climbed onto her hand. Smiling, either from happiness or exhaustion, she brought the insect closer as it proceeded to march into the palm of her cupped hand. It happily buzzed and bumped its head against her skin, settling down in the warmth as Magda gently stroked it.

As if energized by her touch, the fly took to the air and landed in the hollow of the seamstress’ neck, where it buzzed and bounced around more; its little wings tickling her just enough to elicit a soft laugh from Magda.

“Hi, stea mică…” she said softly, body instinctively relaxing to that sensation. Magda wasn’t sure if it was her exhaustion or something else, but as her eyes closed and sleep began to take her, she could have sworn she heard Bela’s voice in the drone of the fly.

I won’t be long.

EPILOGUE:

“Magda? Magda, wake up. Somethin’s happening,” Sam’s voice cut through the blackness of sleep. The seamstress groggily rubbed her eyes and looked around, remembering where she was. Instinctively, she looked over at the Bela statue, worried for a moment at that she would find. The concern was unfounded as it was mostly covered by a swarm of flies, more than what she had seen prior to falling asleep.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” she asked, standing up. The Alcinadragon was still asleep, her harem of maidens still tending to her. If it was possible, she too looked healthier.

“There’s something goin’ on in the village. Luana told me to get you. They’re in Lady D’s bedroom.” That made sense. The Countess’ chambers had a view that overlooked the village. It was a smart place to scout from.

Making her way there, Magda discovered that night had fallen, meaning she had slept most of the day away. Why hadn’t they woken her up sooner? She didn’t need to have her sleep schedule even more messed up. However, the not so far off explosions made her decide otherwise, as she quickened her steps up the stairs.

Luana was out on the balcony of Alcina’s chambers, watching a veritable firefight going on in the village. Massive waving tendrils were erupting from the ground, knocking what looked like military helicopters out of the sky as explosions and gunfire rocked what was left of the buildings.

“Have they come towards the castle?” Magda asked after taking it all in.

“No,” Luana replied.

“Then unless they come towards the castle, it’s not our fight. I’m not about to start something with a group that has guns, explosions, and…” An airstrike briefly interrupted the seamstress as she talked. “Whatever the hell that is!”

“I simply thought you would like to be made aware of this. It was wise that we closed up everything when we did.” Magda didn’t know why Luana was making her seem more important than she actually was. They were the head servant. She was just the seamstress.

“…… You’re going to sit out here until it’s over, aren’t you?”

“Of course.” At that, Magda sighed.

“I’m not staying out here all night. It’s too cold. I’d suggest that you come in from the cold as well, but you’re just as stubborn as I am. I’ll be inside on the chaise lounge if you need me. Please don’t freeze out here, Luana. I’m not about to lose you after keeping you alive.” With that said, Magda went back inside and made herself comfortable on the Countess’ furniture, something she’d never do normally, but this wasn’t exactly normal circumstances. Come to think of it, the large hole in the floor was also out of the ordinary. That hadn’t been there earlier today… What had happened here after she left with Bela?

She must have fallen asleep, since the next thing she knew, Magda was woken up by the sudden slamming of a door, followed almost immediately by being rocked off the chaise lounge by an earth shattering explosion. Broken glass rained down on her as the shockwave smashed the windows. For a brief moment, she thought a nuclear device had gone off and she waited for the incineration wave to burn her to a crisp. When none of that happened, and the castle remained standing, she looked around.

Luana was crouched against the door leading to the balcony, covering their head out of instinct. Brushing the glass from her hair, Magda cautiously stood up and looked out the window. Smoke filled the air, but as the wind carried it away, she could see a decently sized crater in what had been the ceremony site. There was nothing left of the tendrils from last night, just like there wasn’t much left of the village.

“What in the hell happened?” she mumbled. “Do you even now think there are survivors?” she asked Luana. In response, they simply pointed to the distant shape of a quickly retreating helicopter. For a moment, anger blossomed in Magda’s chest. If that man was on that thing? How dare he be able to escape so easily after causing all this destruction. But the feeling and hatred vanished along with the helicopter. If he was gone, then so much the better. Better for him to be gone and forgotten than to remain a problem for them all.

“Goodbye and good riddance, stupid man-thing,” Magda said, before turning her back on the sunrise and returning, with Luana, to her family.

#drabble #one-shot #LONG oneshot #bela dimitrescu #Ethan Winters #alcina dimitrescu #cassandra dimitrescu #daniela dimitrescu

[kormiato]

Regret 

(Heisenberg x reader)

you entered the territory of the factory leaving behind the village. lycans weren't there. because of that it was quieter than usually and that was making you more uncomfortable than you already was on your way home. you was nervous. extremely nervous. your breath was heavy and shaky from running. you was trying to get home as quick as you could. you opened the door into the factory and went in. you passed through many corridors on your way to where Karl Heisenberg was the most of the time everyday. you was walking slowly, trying to catch your breath so that you don't look so worried than you really are. were you ready to talk about it with him? you didn't know. but now that situation was bothering you more than at the beginning of all of it. and you knew that you can't just stand here and look while all this is happening. you was determined to talk about. now or never. just because you was scared for the future.

"you WHAT?!" Heisenberg stood up from the chair abruptly but you already used to the fact that he's quite short-tempered. you was shifting from one foot to other in doors of his workshop. you didn't dare to look up in his eyes, preferring to examine the dirty floor. "yes, I was beyond the factory today. and yes, I saw Ethan Winters there. he was going from Alcina's castle. and I think that he is going to Donna and Moreau next since he want his daughter back. and... I'm afraid that he is gonna go to the factory..." you bite your lip in a concern at the end of the sentence. Karl sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly. "of course he will be here soon. and I hope that he'll hurry up." you recoiled a little in a amount of shock. he was talking about it so easy, as if it was nothing that this Winters was going to kill all of the Lords on his way to save Rose if it's required. "but he killed Alcina and all of her daughters. don't you think that he can kill you too?" the man grinned. "kill? me? how could you think that some city's freak can kill me? or do you think that I'm not strong enough to deal with that jerk, just like that super-sized bitch was?" "don't say that!" you protested. "I know that you're the strongest of the Lords and the most dangerous one. but that doesn't mean that I can't worry about you. I just don't know what I'm going to do if you'll..." you stopped, feeling a lump in your throat growing from anxiety. Heisenberg clicked his tongue rolling his eyes. "I'm not dead yet, dollface. and I'm not gonna die. so stop dramatize. I'll just make him an offer to convince him to join my rebellion." "what? why do you need him? you already have your large metall army." "that's not enough." he growled in a frustration. "I need his Rose to be sure that I have enough power to kill that bitch. you just don't know how powerful is that kid. even that dumb papa doesn't understand! with Rose's power we can defeat that bitch Miranda and we'll finally be free!" you frowned. you didn't want to overshadow his grandiose plans with your concern and fears. you knew how important it was to him, how much he wanted to get his well-deserved freedom, how much he worked to finally get a chance to escape Miranda's influence. but you loved him a lot. and you had a bad trait of character - sometimes not to keep your mouth shut.

"but what if it'll go not as planned? what if he'll refuse to join you? what if he'll kill you?" you sighty paniced because you doesn`t want to risk the life of your man. not just a boyfriend, but man. Karl was starting to get a little piss, you could say this by one look at his face. "listen, are you trying to piss me off? if that so then go out of here and don't stop me from working. go on and fuck brains some of lycans if they have any, I think they will be better listeners than me right now. If that's all you have to talk with me about, I'll better get back to my work.” Karl turned to a table and sat down back on a chair thus putting an end to this conversation. you almost choked on air from indignation. “okay. if you want to act like a complete asshole to the fact that I'm worried about you, then let it be as you say.” you stormed out of the room, filled with indignation and resentment without giving the opportunity to shout something in a responce. was you really that angry? you don't know. but you should have kept your mouth shout in that moment. didn't you believe in him? no, you believed. but you also loved him.

it was raining. it was raining that much that you barely can see anything further than your hand. you was away from factory. now you was going back to your home. and then you heared loud crash and the ground under your feet was trembling more and more as you approached the factory territory. and in that moment you started worrying. what's going on? you ran to the factory as fast as you can. you stopped near the fence and covered your mouth with your hand in fright. you saw a giant creature, some kind of robot. and you saw Ethan Winters on a tank attacking that thing.

"I will kill that bitch after you!" as you hear that, you realize. That massive thing in front of you is Heisenberg. And he's fighting against Ethan. your breath started shaking in fear. but you hoped that he'll defeat that Winters. so you just silently watch. that was terrifying. seeing your love putting his life on a danger.

tears began to flow down your face, burning your cheeks and palms that was covering your mouth trying not to let out sobs of heartache. "I can't... die! I must... kill her...! for her... for... us...!" Karl's mechanical body falled to the ground. you had forget how to breathe. you couldn't see anything but his lifeless body on a dirty ground. you doesn't know how long you have stood like this. you open the gate of destroyed factory and slowly walked on a shaky legs. and then you falled to your knees in front of mechanical creature that was your love before. but why before? you loved him even in this state. you loved him all. and now your lover was just a lifeless mess of metall and flesh. you started to cry even more. you throwed your head up to the sky letting the rain wash out your tears. and then you screamed. so loud that for sure the throat will be torn off. "why him?! why not me?! shit! shit!" you was beating the ground in a fury, but then you pressed your forehead against the cold metal of the robot. "I'm so sorry Karl... I didn't even have time to make up with you... I'm so sorry... I'm sorry I didn't come to apologize... stupid pride... I want you so much to be near me now...I'm regretting that I argued with you..." regret. that feeling will be hunting you. regret. and guilt. because you let your lover, Karl Heisenberg, your light and the most important man in your life, die. And the more important thing that you leaved him after that argument don't even trying to make things up. you was alone now.

you stood up, taking one last look on a factory, your home, and go. where? you don't know. and that doesn't even matter since nowhere will be good for you. you was planning to visit so many places. but with Karl after you two escape Miranda. but now... it doesn't matter anymore. nothing is matter anymore. it's just you and rain. and your regret that was crawling your back.

#Karl Heisenberg #lord heisenberg #heisenberg x reader #re8 Karl heisenberg #re8 heisenberg #karl heisenburg x reader #resident evil #resident evil fanfic #resident evil x reader #resident evil village