#Covert Missions

[alphamecha-mkii]

Elrik Vonreg's TIE Interceptor by Mariusz Gandzel

[haaaaaaaaaaaave-you-met-ted]

Darth Bane - Ancient Master by Martin de Diego Sádaba

[cathygeha]

REVIEW

Her Renegade by Amanda McKinney

Steele Shadows Mercenaries #2

Dark, gritty, and compelling ~ could not put this book down and stayed up till 1:30 to read the last page before turning off the light last night ~ Great addition to the series!

What I liked:

* Justin Montgomery: Ex-Navy SEAL, mercenary, strong, lethal, intelligent, physically and emotionally scarred, willing to do what it takes to accomplish his mission, lost a lot, moral compass not always in line with yours and mine, attracted to his target and unsure why…

* Sophia Banks: beautiful, brilliant, survivor of abuse, difficult backstory, abandonment issues, trust issues, more than she appears to be, begins to see her situation in a new light after meeting Justin

* The prologue and first chapter that set the stage for the story

* The plot, pacing, setting, and writing

* That distrust that both Justin and Sophia had for one another – in spite of their chemistry

* The handling of the relationship developing between the main characters

* The way Aleks’s storyline was woven in

* That it was easy to hate the bad guys and wish to see them receive commensurate justice-retribution for their actions

* That the darker scenes were not flinched away from

* The surprises, twists, and turns that I didn’t see coming

* All of it really except…

What I didn’t like:

* Who and what I was meant not to like

* Knowing that the abuse Sophia and Aleks experienced happens all too often

* Wondering how often governments really do some of the things that happened in this story

Did I enjoy this book? Yes

Would I read more in this series? Definitely!

Thank you to the author for the ARC – This is my honest review.

5 Stars

BLURB

The bestselling and award-winning Steele Shadows series continues in this new Protector Romance spin-off series, packed with page-turning mystery, steamy angst, exotic locations, and four dangerously attractive mercenaries.

His mission is clear: Find Sophia Banks and interrogate her — in any way necessary— to obtain the information he needs.

But when Justin finds the battered and bruised brunette in a one-room cabin hidden deep in the snowy mountains of the Alaskan wilderness, he quickly realizes things are not as clear-cut as they seem.

Her Renegade is a dark and intense romantic thriller about secrets, danger, and forbidden love - and what one man is willing to risk to save a woman he can’t have.

[quasi-normalcy]

Anyways:

[abyssmclshadows]

Quick What the fuck does mercuiral mean

[xnxthinglastsfxrever]

Covert mission CLASSIFIED || James & Natalia @scinglives

Mission: Operation Julius

She got a called from Director Fury, sending her coordinates to an unnamed location on her interpol and he was also sending James Barnes with her. By now, they come in pairs, one his best assets and ever since the fall of S.H.I.E.L.D. it was difficult to trust and do the job right.

The redhead was in the living room, reaching on the couch to take the cushions off to grab her backpack for this mission, like a true spy, she got these all around her safe house and apartment just in case they were on a time crunch. Swinging the backpack over her left shoulder, resetting the cushions back on the couch as she headed over to the mini back, reaching in the back of the bottles of alcohol to press a button which operations the other wall to a secret compartment, and that leads to her room of weapons on whom she shared with James. Taking a few steps down the stairs as she gave herself a smirk, seeing already picking up a few into his duffle bag. "Just like old times." she spoke, resting the backpack on the stainless steel counter and walked over to where he was sitting. Her arms wrapping around his neck and reaching for a kiss on his cheek. "Shall we take my car or yours this time?"

[corellianhounds]

Handmaidens and clones something something lookalikes whose entire purpose is to serve others and die in their stead if necessary. Is this anything

[bjornolf-bjarki]

Thank you for this llittle gift sketch of Sigurd @cry-ptidd ! He's so pretty (and dummy thicc) in this and it just makes me go eutyjownrifienkxkhjkrkd

Also his ratty renegade clothes are perfect

[houmatsunokioku]

Recruitment - Revelation Chapter 11 (Mutual Enemies)

Before Battle | During Battle | After Battle | Chapter Data

[Scene shifts to Amane]

Amane: Thank you. I will see to the wounded shortly. We leave as soon as they’re able to travel.

Mizuki ninja: Yes, my lady.

[Exit Mizuki ninja]

[If Nagame was killed (defeated by someone other than Seiji)]

[Enter Seiji] Amane: Seiji… Seiji: I'm sorry. We couldn’t spare him. Amane: It’s not your fault. We knew it was going to be difficult. Amane: Our mission was a huge success. We had few casualties. That’s already more than we could ask for.

[Else, if Nagame is alive (undefeated or was defeated by Seiji)]

Saizo: I can’t believe what I’m seeing. You’re going to let him go, just like that? He betrayed the village—betrayed you. Amane: I remember, Saizo, I was there. Amane: Village law dictates he pay for that with his life. But for whatever reason, he spared a number of us during our operation here. It’s only fair we do the same. Nagame (aside): …

[Enter Corrin]

Corrin: There you are! You must be Amane. Kaze told me about you. Thank you for helping us rescue Kagero.

Amane: Please, think nothing of it, Lord/Lady Corrin. Our goals were aligned. It was a pleasure fighting alongside you and yours.

Corrin: How would you like to keep fighting with us? We could use someone of your skills.

Amane: Y-You want me to join you? I’m flattered but uh… [glances at Seiji]

Seiji: (Don’t look at me. He/She asked you.)

Amane: (Seiji!)

[If Nagame is alive]

Corrin: And what about you, in the shadows? Would you like to join us? Saizo: You can’t be serious. He’s our enemy! Corrin: That’s in the past. There’s no reason why we can’t work together now. We need as many allies as we can get to defeat the enemy we’re facing. I’m willing to place my faith in him. [Nagame emerges from the trees] Nagame: You’re a fool. But I suppose I’m no better. Very well, my blade is yours, Lord/Lady Corrin.

Amane: …

Amane: I’m sorry—

Seiji: Oh, alright. I’ll take care of things back home. You go with them.

Amane: Huh?

Seiji: Hey, what’s with that look? You don’t think I can handle it? Don’t forget, I was once the heir presumptive.

Amane: That’s not—I thought you hate doing administrative work!

Seiji: I do, which is why you owe me one.

Amane: Wha—

Amane: Alright, I understand. Thank you, Seiji.fate

[sir-feral-crow]

once again asking for Robert Pattison's batman to get a silly little robin. please itd be so funny to see this emo boy have to deal with a flippy little 8 year old who's parents just died. its all i want

[arcanaaa]

Yet another Trio headcanon that I must share because I have no self-control, so feel free to reblog @hellfrze and @shinebrightlikealion; during the start of their time together taking missions, the three of them would have discussed contingencies ( especially ones that Cana could predict ) and countermeasures to prevent unnecessary risk for their team. I can see the three of them developing a code word, carrying an enchanted item imbued with each of their magics, or a failsafe in the event that something goes wrong during a mission or if any of them need backup. This is mostly to ensure that they could find each other if they became separated, but also if one or the other was in serious danger, they could activate an item that holds each other's magic or recite a phrase that would alert each other that they were under duress or danger.

Each of them would have carefully considered their code word that would only be used in a context that no one else but they would interpret, something personal that the three of them would immediately recognize. However, the items that they each carry that are imbued with each of their magic essence would be items that they carry on their person:

Cana's armbands, an heirloom from her mother, are each infused with Loke and Gray's magic, with the Left armband charmed with Loke's magic, while the Right is fused with Gray's magic. With both her boys' magic infused in each armband, it allows them the ability to track her location in the event that they're on a dangerous mission that separates them. She can alert them just by rotating the band, or by just touching them. Cana would never have any reason for taking her armbands off, so it would act as a perfect accompaniment for any disguises. This also would mean that if her armbands were removed by anyone else than herself ( because the only time she would ever take them off would be to bathe ), it would alert Gray and Loke that she's in danger and to come find her ASAP.

It's also the same for Loke and Gray.

For Gray, both Loke and Cana's magic is imbued in his sword necklace where the stone is centered, and should he touch his necklace or it is removed by anyone else than himself, it would alert Loke and Cana that he's in danger. For Loke, because his primary source of magic that he utilized while he was a 'human' was from the rings he wore, it's likely that he would have either had one ring that Gray and Cana infused with their magic, or he had each of them imbue their magic on specific rings. Even as a spirit, Loke never took the rings that he wore, more out of sentimentality than necessity, and continued to wear them even after his banishment was lifted.

Even when they don't team up together as a Trio, they all carry each other's magic; whether this is a conscious decision on either of their part or not, their magic continues to hold strong in their respective objects ( and also proved to come in handy unexpectedly ).

[princesssarcastia]

in this land of milk and honey, we're too shy to say we're thirsty

here, have 1.5k of fic i just wrote about mission: impossible: rogue nation.  AU of the scene where Ethan Hunt wakes up a captive of the Syndicate, where Ilsa Faust gets to run the interrogation the way she wants to, instead of being interrupted by the Bone Doctor.  title from “Little Mercy,” by Doomtree. read it on ao3 here.

“What Vinter and the rest of his stupid ilk never realize is that torture doesn’t work, especially on their own kind.  Pain is cheap.”

-

Ilsa grabs her tools by rote memory, uninterested in taking any care in the work she’s about to do. This isn’t the first time she’s worked someone over for Lane, and it won’t be the last time; she needs to stay numb to it, numb here in the moment and numb after his latest acquisition bends and twists, numb when she has to stand there in the aftermath as the others move in to take what they want from him, numb to the part of her that wants to perk up at the praise following a job well done.

The door groans under its own weight when the guards push it open for her, and she sees the man tense ever so slightly where he’s tied to the post.  Conscious, then, but not quite awake.  Her heels click in the silence after the door slams shut. 

She leaves the lights off; the shadows help, sometimes, with some agents.  Paired with the right kind of drugs, the right kind of touch, darkness can add a dreamlike quality to an already intimate process.  People like them feel safer in the dark.

This one is dangerous. Lane wouldn’t take such a personal interest if he wasn’t.  So, she slips off her shoes, sets them on the table with her tray and her jacket, unbuttons the top button of her shirt and rolls up her sleeves.

Ilsa turns around and—

He’s awake now.

He’s staring at her.

She stares right back.

The moment yawns and stretches between them, arching languidly.  Ilsa breathes in sharply, quietly, and takes a step toward him, still caught on his eyes—although the rest of him is hardly a chore to examine. 

He doesn’t move, focused intently on her.  Assessing. Calculating.  It feels—it feels a little like when Lane looks at her, like he’s cataloguing her expressions and picking apart the things that make her tick.  But it doesn’t make her want to curl up and hide when this man does it. 

“Nice shoes.”

Ilsa blinks, then quirks her brow, amused.  That’s a new one.  

“American intelligence, yes?”  A soft opener. 

He tilts his head, silent, but clearly not buying that she doesn’t already know.

“But not the CIA,” she continues, moving closer in even steps.  “No, you have too much personality for that, I can already tell.”

Now he’s amused, letting his lips twitch, but he keeps his silence.  She starts turning his reactions in her mind, letting her gaze fall over the whole of him to catch them all.  This one is a talker; she just needs to get him started.  And stop getting distracted by his eyes.  There’s something about them that draws her attention, but Ilsa can’t figure out what.

“How long have you worked for the IMF?”  She stops well outside of his reach but still close enough to see his chest rise and fall minutely with each breath.  If she focuses, she imagines she might be able to see it twitch with the beating of his heart.

“How long did you work for British intelligence, before you turned traitor?”  He fires back.  Right on the money.  Not that it’s a difficult guess, given where he is and how she speaks.

“Twenty years,” she says calmly, and watches him mentally turn on a dime, reassessing.  “They recruited me right of secondary school. I imagine it was much the same for you. Sometimes, they catch people later, but MI6 knows how to recognize a good asset in the making fairly early.”

Ilsa takes a step closer. “The agency was my whole life.  It consumed all my time and energy.  My waking hours and my sleeping ones.  And I was…eager to please.  An excellent agent, willing and capable of doing anything they asked of me.  It was hard, sometimes, but in the end it was worth it because I knew everything I was doing was for queen and country.  The greater good,” she adds, letting her mouth twist wryly. 

He watches her for a moment, and she lets him, lets the silence sit, lets it build.  It’s an obvious enough cue, and he’s curious enough now to take the bait.  He wants her talking as much as she wants him talking, neither of them in control nor sure they have the upper hand, yet. 

“What changed,” he asks finally, and Ilsa’s gaze catches on his eyes again.

“I woke up,” Ilsa takes three steps to her left, changing the angle of approach.  “I realized, one day, that I only thought I was fighting for the right side because it’s what I chose to believe.  None of my experiences actually supported that conclusion.

“Have you ever killed an innocent person, Ethan?”  She doesn’t wait for his answer.  “I know I have.  On accident, sure, as an unintended casualty of my mission; but on purpose, too.  Sometimes it was the mission.  To make things easier for MI6, for my handler, for England.  For their convenience.”

Now he shifts, the cuffs on his wrists and ankles clinking.  He doesn’t respond, but she can see it in his eyes.  He has.  Of course he has.  No one in their line of work hasn’t. 

That fact of life actually bothers him, unlike Lane and the rest of the men here.  The same way it bothers her when she forgets to be numb.

She knows what it is in his eyes, now, that’s pulling at her attention. 

His eyes are kind.  He looks kind. 

It’s impossible. 

“I realized I was only loyal to them because of a lie I was telling myself.  And that loyalty certainly wasn’t returned.  The agency doesn’t exist to care for its agents, it exists to use them up until there’s nothing left.  How many times did they leave me out in the cold, dangling in the wind, to survive or die under nothing more than my own ability?”

“That’s the job,” he says, with a hint of condescension.  It grates.  He probably means it to.

“That doesn’t make it right, the way they treated me.  The way your government treats you.”  

His eyes shift.  He knows her game, now, has mapped out the path she wants to take, the weak spots she’s aiming for.  The muscles in his limbs tense and relax minutely, imbued with the strength of surety, surety that what she’s trying to do won’t work. 

But his faith in himself is misplaced, because now she can tell he hasn’t realized yet that what she’s saying is true.  He’s like her, two, five years ago: unable to value his own life.  What his handlers do to him doesn’t matter because he doesn’t matter; you can’t hurt someone if they don’t see themselves as person capable of being hurt.  It’s fine if they use you because you’re letting them.  You’re a tool; if you’re not being used, then what’s the point of you?

The truth is, it does matter.  It does hurt them.  And they only let themselves be used because the right people broke them at the right time, cracking them wide open to let someone else in to twist them into knots.

Truth will out.  It’s more powerful than people like them, steeped in lies and deception, ever expect, which is why Ilsa is so fond of using it.

Faster than the eye can properly see, she lunges for him, sinking her needle into the meat of his bicep and depressing the plunger.  Too quick for him to stop, although he pulls his legs up to kick her in the chest and send her sprawling.

Truth will out.  But of course, the drugs help. 

His kind eyes blink rapidly, then slowly, clearly tensing to try and fend off unconsciousness that isn’t coming.  Oh, it won’t knock him out.  Unconscious is no use to her.  But it’ll ease the way for the truth; make him more pliant, more sociable, more open to suggestion. 

What Vinter and the rest of his stupid ilk never realize is that torture doesn’t work, especially on their own kind.  Pain is cheap.  Their bodies are disposable, their lives are disposable.  Ethan Hunt would happily die for the IMF, for the greater good, probably even for his fellow agents.  He’s a fighter, this one.  He’ll die before they break him. 

But if Ilsa can lay the truth of their lives out in front of him in ways he can understand, it will plant seeds of doubt his lived experiences can’t help but nurture.  Doubt is more dangerous than pain.  

Ethan Hunt and his kind eyes will never work for Solomon Lane, not after Lane shot that poor woman in the head in front of him.  Not after Lane made him feel helpless—and she’s sure Lane did, it’s his favorite way to make people feel, and he’s spectacularly good at it.  

She just needs to make sure Ethan doesn’t work against them.  Finding the ways his handlers have made him feel helpless is a good place to start.

Ilsa waits for his pupils to blow wide and his pulse to slow in his chest and neck before she starts. She stays where he put her on the floor, only shifting enough to sit up.

“How long have you worked for the IMF, Ethan?”  She asks softly.

One breath.  Two breaths.  He blinks again, licks his lips.  

 And tells her.

[deathsmark]

the shadow order is actually good for zed because if he did not have these followers, who not only look up to him but follow his guidance he would probably have done a lot more reckless shit to get at noxus.

[my-timing-is-digital]

@fasciinating liked for a starter from [ x ]

‘Sir, I believe we are being pursued,’ the android whispered discreetly to his Vulcan companion as they crossed a market place that was bustling with people. ‘Two Romulans. One whose gait appears to be permanently impeded by a limp. The other is clad in dark green robes, the hood of the garment obscuring their countenance.’

It was bound to happen. To be honest, it was a miracle they had managed to stay under the radar for as long as they did. Unfortunately, that was all about to change now that a duo of perceptive Romulans had discerned the outcasts, and were determined to apprehend and, presumably, eliminate them...

[hannahchronism]

i love. mid thousands action movies where the rule of cool is law.

[luv-again]

crunching on this piece. dragging my feet. what is happening. I've lost my sanity and I'm clutching at straws wondering whether it's worth it anymore