#john lark

[twilightfaerie1978]

I have a theory about August Walker. How he became John Lark. How he goes against the establishment, the old way of doing business. Hear me out.

So August was a low level CIA agent. Making his way up the ranks. But he's always been a fucking beast. Which is why he can rise as quickly as he does.

And he meets another agent. And they fall in love. Like she is endgame for him. He's an animal, there's that underlying danger about him. But NOT with her. With her, and only her, he's different. Only she sees him. But I dunno. Something happened. A mission gone sideways, or some vendetta or something, and she's taken. Held. Tortured. Maybe there's a type of ransom for her. But the CIA decides she's an acceptable loss. Maybe her father is a major player in the agency or the government. And what they want, the kidnappers, is too great. So her father, with the agency, decide she's collateral damage.

And August is just ... LIVID. Like no fucking way. And he tries to save her and fails. She dies.

John Lark is born.

And I thought of this scenario for what drove him to be John Lark because "he was just that minded" is boring. "He was just born evil" is just sooooo boring.

But a real reason to hate the establishment? That's interesting.

I thought it should be about love, because think about Fallout. There is NOTHING about him that hints he has any interest in love or sex. I mean, all villains are still about fucking their way through the plot for world domination. But not August/Lark. And why?

Because his great love is dead. Because the establishment they worked for, pledged their allegiance for, said "Nah, fuck her."

Am I crazy?

@littlefreya @shellyshellshell @xoxunhinged

[catkidjekyll]

tried to do b&w to practice lighting and coloring because i struggle with tan/brown tones. anyway, heres august walker

[write-r-die]

Man's World - Part 5

Masterlist

I'm in a writing mood lately and I'm choosing not to question it. This is a bit of a filler chapter before the real action starts.

We walk toward the edge of camp, where trucks, buses, and shipping containers are arranged into a sort of perimeter wall. Most people at least nod to Miss Ally in greeting; the soldiers all greet her by name - most with the reverence with which they’d greet a military commander (the Boss).

The tents become sparser the further from the center of camp we move until we approach the double-ring of trucks, RVs, trailers, and shipping containers that mark the perimeter of camp - a makeshift wall for our little city, designed as much to keep August’s people in as it is to protect from outsiders.

There are gunmen on the roofs of some of the massive vehicles. Somewhere nearby, Depeche Mode is playing on a crank radio.

“Sy!” Miss Ally calls out as we approach a loose group of soldiers.

The biggest one turns our way. “Miss Ally.” He walks in our direction. He’s tall and muscular and has cropped brown hair and a vigorous beard. Judging by his bearing, he’s some hybrid of a football player, a Navy Seal, and a frat boy at an old Southern university.

As he comes closer, I think I recognize him, but I would have remembered someone looking like that. Probably some weird side effect of the concussion.

“Sy,” Miss Ally says again when he’s in front of us. Didn’t Stiva mention someone named Sy?

He pushes his sunglasses up, resting them on the top of his head. He looks even more familiar now. “Good morning, Miss Ally. What can I do for you?”

“I’d like you to put this young lady to work in one of the stock trucks.”

Sy crosses his arms over his chest as he takes stock of me. “You the one that shot at the Boss during the last raid?”

“Mm-hmm,” Miss Ally says.

Sy nods. “Good. Keep him on his toes.” He extends a large, rough hand. “Syverson.”

I take it and shake once before letting it drop. “Lilah.”

He turns and starts walking without giving me any warning first and I nearly have to run to catch up.

“You pregnant or something?” he asks once we’ve cleared the densest part of camp.

“What?”

“I’m trying to figure out why August hasn’t killed you, since you tried to kill him.” 

August, he said, not the Boss.

“I think he just wants to sleep with me.”

Syverson gives me a quick once-over. “That tracks.” 

It hits me then – who it is that he resembles.

“Are you and August related?”

Syverson glances at me again. “Cousins.”

It’s not that they look similar, exactly, though the likeness is uncanny - the only tangible differences that I can see are that Syverson is slightly more muscular and August’s hair is a little darker. Their demeanors are entirely different, enough that it counteracts the physical resemblance. 

I have the urge to explain all this to him, but an image of Jack’s bored, disinterested face flashes before me, and I decide against it.

We head to the outskirts of camp, where lorry trucks, RVs, U-Hauls, buses, campers, and even a handful of humvees have been arranged in a double-ring that encompasses the whole camp in a makeshift border wall designed as much to keep our people in as it is to keep strangers out.

Depeche Mode is playing from a crank radio beside one of the gunmen keeping watch atop a lorry. A couple of mechanics are cursing  as they attempt to repair a busted solar panel atop an RV. There are a few mean-looking dogs on chains scattered about. 

Syverson isn’t sure exactly what he wants me to do yet so he sort of just turns me loose. 

They don’t seem to mind me wandering between the vehicles and investigating what’s inside. School buses packed with books - school books in one, historical nonfiction in another. One of them is just for children’s books, stuffed with multiple copies of Bunnicula and Percy Jackson and even Twilight. 

There are a few “lady trucks” as the soldiers call them, packed with enough pads, tampons, and menstrual cups to last all the women in camp at least a year. It’s kind of nice, in a weird way, that they thought to stock up on period products. I doubt it was August’s idea, but the trucks’ very existence is proof that the powers that be do care about women’s wellbeing. Kind of. 

Guards linger near the more important vehicles, the ones that house “valuables,” which I assume means medical supplies and ammo and such. I don’t ask for details or to look inside; they’d say no if I did anyway. 

I’m poking around in a school bus that has coincidentally been turned into one of several makeshift libraries, when August Walker shows up.

“Bossman!” somebody calls, drawing everyone’s attention. The men all straighten up where they’re standing. They don’t salute as he walks past but they do dip their heads in respect as he goes by. Almost like bowing. Almost like he’s a king.

I hate how my heart thumps as he comes close enough for me to make out his features. I’m disgusted at his behavior this morning and for his general dickishness last night but Miss Ally is right. I’m attracted to him. There’s no use denying it.

Syverson steps closer to him and they start talking. I can’t hear very well but the gist of the conversation comes through. He wants to pack up camp by the end of the week. It’s time to move on.

I creep to the front of the bus toward the open door to so I can hear better while doing my best to stay out of sight.

“The place is dried up,” August says to Sy.

The others are listening like me but pretending that they aren’t – also like me. 

“We’ve gotten anything and anyone that could possibly be of use,” August continues. “We’ll do one last sweep through the suburbs tomorrow night.”

“How many guys do you want?” Sy asks.

“Five. It’ll just be escort duty while a couple of Miss Ally’s people poke around. I’ll lead myself.” And then he raises his obscenely large hand, finger pointed right at me though he doesn’t turn to look. “You’re coming too,” he tells me. 

Syverson looks my way, even though his cousin does not. He gives me another once-over.

“Me?” My voice is nightmarishly shrill. How the fuck did he even know I was here? Did he plant a tracker on me while I was asleep or something? “I’m – I won’t be of any use. I thought we established that.”

“You’ll have to earn your keep somehow,” August drawls. “You’ve chosen not to take advantage of the easier option, but if you change your mind, it’s still on the table.”

Syverson tamps down a smirk, raising his eyebrows as he turns to see my reaction.

I can feel my ears heating with the force of my anger. My first thought is, how can I inflict the same harm on him that he has inflicted on me? My second thought is how embarrassing this is for him to say in front of his men. And then I think that I hate all fucking men, but especially this one.

“You must be around a lot of women that will settle for substandard men,” I finally say.

I see eyes widening and smirks growing on the soldier’s faces but they keep trying to pretend that they aren’t listening – except for Sy, who grins and swivels back to his cousin to see his retort.

August is smirking slightly as I step out of the bus and start walking back towards the center of camp. As I brush by him, August murmurs, “If you want proof of what I can do, I’ve got no shortage of witnesses.”

That just pisses me off.

That night, I dream of August. Of myself in that other woman’s position. I wake up sweating and wet and frustrated with myself. How am I going to get through this supply run?

[acollectionofalpacas]

Fandom: Mission: Impossible (Movies), Mission: Impossible Rating: Mature Relationships: Ethan Hunt/August Walker, Erika Sloane/August Walker (Mission: Impossible) Characters: Ethan Hunt, August Walker (Mission: Impossible), Erika Sloane (mentioned), Gabriel (Mission: Impossible), Grace (Mission: Impossible)

Additional Tags: Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Kind of? theres. a little plot but its not much, Palming, thigh riding, Dry Humping, Lapdance, ethans perspective p much, SLIGHT dead reckoning spoiler but only in character names at the end, august is . regrettably not in dead reckoning p1, also ive never written for these two before. hi, Clubbing, technically, Accidental Voyeurism

Summary: Ethan tried to ignore the pair of bodies beside him on the leather sofa, but occasionally his green eyes glanced over to watch the dancer move her hips in perfect circles, with August's hands gently, and seemingly respectfully, resting on those hips. Ethan eventually caught himself full on watching. Instead of enjoying the sight of the dancer herself, Ethan felt. . . jealous. He couldn't pinpoint why though. Maybe because August was enjoying her all to himself? That didn't feel like the answer, but he would use it.

do not repost fics. reblogs appreciated.

[kalpeavaris]

"Gladiator" - John Lark & Alanna Edit

Based upon a Villain!AU including a FanFiction I will release at the end of October, this edit takes inspiration from the prompt "What if Ethan became John Lark just a bit too much?", being forced to take a life - something he actively avoids unless the person is a danger to him or others. Ethan Hunt died - and John Lark killed him. With that, a new alternative route to his existence as a rogue agent will begin with Alanna by his side... and whoever else might find their way into Johns life (again).

[rabbit-ina-trenchcoat]

just saw dead reckoning as my celebration for getting my drivers license. where the FUCK is henry cavill.

[patwrites]

#throwbacksaturday to Ethan impersonating a terrorist and trying way too hard to sound evil

“I murder women and children with smallpox. I have no line.”

[jedi-issue-scopes]

guys the mission: impossible brainrot is too real we keep talking about the IMF (International Monetary Fund) in my economics classes and I keep thinking my professor means the IMF (Impossible Missions Force) 🤠

[airlocksandaviaries]

absolutely losing my MIND at John Lark undercover pretending to team up with Ethan so he could frame him at the beginning of MI Fallout. Like. Imagine some expert agent is spending YEARS trying to track you down and stop your shadow organization and he’s digging up your secrets every move you make so you try to frame this guy to stop him and then you show up for the mission and like. He’s this 5-foot-something, old twink that’s fueled by rage and the power of friendship. He spends half the time questioning your authority and the other half doing EVERYTHING IN HIS POWER to make sure you don’t get hurt. His methods are ‘just try shit out and hope you don’t fuck it up.’ Like. This is the most skilled and specially trained agent in the WORLD. And he’s acting like an absolute brat and flirting like the little bisexual idiot he is. No wonder Lark was so fucking salty. I would be too.

[wwjzww]

can MI miraculously bring him back? for science.

Henry Cavill as August Walker Mission Impossible: Fallout (2018) dir. Christopher McQuarrie

[chieftyphoonchaos]

John Lark Revenge!

The spirit of John Lark has taken possession of the AL programme we know as The Entity…Hence, the programme has acquired a will of its own.Ethan and his team thus fight the spirit of an old enemy and so Lark can still get his revolution,his new world order

😉😂🤣

[write-r-die]

By Tomorrow - Part 10 TEASER

She was trying very hard not to cry. She was teetering on the edge of panic. You

mustn’t weep, she told herself. You’ll only make it a thousand times worse. Be

brave. It will be over and done within an hour.

But as they neared the cottage, her shaking only intensified.

Henry released her hand to open the door for her; she walked into the middle of the cottage. When she realized her proximity to the bed, she panicked. 

The door shut and Henry slid the bolt into place.

“It won’t fit!” 

FULL CHAPTER COMING SOON! masterlist

[littlecello]

henlo

[cerealforkart]

Dungeons and Daddies the Manga Lesson 40: The Teenhigh Saga: Break-In Wrong: Part 1

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[masterpost]

[heaveninawildflower]

Snow Lark Bunting (adult and young) taken from ‘The Birds of America’... Vol. III by  J.J. Audubon.

Published 1841 by J. B. Chevalier.

Image and text information courtesy NYPL Digital Collection.

[jt1674]