Would love it if you wrote something Milathos jealous!Athos. Take that any way you will.
Hi Anon, I don’t like you =)I was supposed to be sleeping and then I read your message and I had all those thoughts and I had to write them down! And now I’m weeping bc I’m sad and happy over this story and I love you so much and thank you for the prompt that turned into a bit more then I thought it would be.
I want an inverse spy flick. The spy is a woman. Her whole team is made up of diverse women. All the villains are women. There is only one man in the entire movie and he is a Strong Male Character who is like 25 and decently ripped and has a scene where he slowly steps out of a pool wearing speedos because he is Confident and In Control of His Sexuality. We see his ass when he has to tug down his pants to get at the knife strapped to his thigh. His nipples are always erect for no fucking reason.
Someone asks him how he knows how to do Traditionally Feminine Thing. “I have four sisters,” he answers.
This is also how he knows how to fight while armed with nothing but a purse, a high heel shoe, and a can of hair spray. During this fight, he is, for no apparent reason, shirtless.
The lead spy is Helen Mirren. She nails the Action Boy in the shower. There’s a lot of lingering closeups on the way the shower spray runs across his breathlessly ecstatic face. We also hear every breathless whimper of his climax, while out in the hallway Lucy Liu is smoking impatiently, a duffel bag full of rocket launchers slung over her shoulder. The President isn’t going to kidnap herself, here, christ.
Action Boy emerges in a small towel, sheepish yet radiant. Helen Mirren emerges in a tuxedo, also smoking, also with a duffel bag of rocket launchers.
In one scene, the lead villain captures the Strong Male Character. He is, once more, inexplicably shirtless as she ties him to the chair. He makes some quips about his sexual independence before he is rescued by a sweat-drenched Helen Mirren, who kicks down the door and nukes everyone in the room. Strong Male Character’s hair remains perfect throughout the ordeal.
Strong Male Character is heartlessly slain in front of Helen Mirren’s eyes despite all of his skills and combat prowess. His body slumps to the ground, lifeless but supple. Helen Mirren makes a witty quip at Strong Male Character’s killers before quickly and dramatically slaying them all.
She steals one last glance at Strong Male Character. His beautiful eyes stare back from a handsome face with perfectly tussled hair, lips positioned a if in a gentle sigh. There’s no bringing him back now. Helen Mirren walks away, stronger than before. Strong Male Character’s death has hardened her, but given her the strength and resolve to complete her task.
An after credits preview clip comes on as a teaser. Helen Mirren with a huge explosion tearing things up behind her walks toward the camera with a new Strong Male Character wearing the tiny, tattered remnants of a burned shirt about his flexing pecs and deltoids, and he is carrying the bag of rocket launchers as he steps in behind her.
Nah, Matt Bomer is almost 40. Despite his good looks and great bod, he’s way too old to play the shaggable romantic supporting character to 70-year-old Helen Mirren.
Matt Bomer plays Helen Mirren’s sadder-but-wiser ex, computer-savvy, gorgeous but still single, fiercely independent (but it’s all an act).
Helen Mirren shows up on his doorstep to ask him for one last hacker job, for old time’s sake. Matt hauls off to slap Helen in the face, but Helen catches his wrist, pulls him close, and kisses him long and hard. Matt struggles at first but finally melts into her embrace.
Lucy Liu strolls past them into Matt’s chic apartment, slapping Matt on the ass as she mutters “Some things never change, do they?”
Late the next night, as Matt and Helen hack into the CIA database, Helen tucks a stray lock of Matt’s hair behind his ear and asks him why there’s no husband or kids in the picture after all this time.
Matt turns his sad, beautiful eyes toward her and confesses that there has only ever been Helen for him, but he couldn’t stand never knowing if she would come back alive when she left on a mission. Helen and Matt nearly have a moment, but the computer beeps with the results of their search.
The next morning, Helen goes into the kitchen to find Matt’s 20-year-old nephew has come to stay for the weekend. Helen and the camera slowly pan up and down his gorgeous, toned, oiled-up and glistening body as he stands, nearly-naked but for his tight, black satin booty-short underwear, and starts making a gourmet vegetarian omelet.
He turns around and smiles at Helen. “You must be a friend of Uncle Matt. I’m Caden. You hungry?”
Helen’s eyes drift down to Caden’s bulging crotch. “Oh, I could eat,” she quips.
Prompt - Matt/Stella always and Caryl after Denise's funeral.
Let’s go for Caryl one) Hope you enjoy) ps. ppl bring them on if you feel like it)
Sealed
“That’s it.” Those are the first words he speaks in a while. The earthy rectangle is fresh like a wound that it is, the wound of losing yet another one of them.
They stare at it wordlessly, their shovels lined up just as much as their thoughts aren’t. Carol watches Daryl and he eyes the ground where Denise will now rest in peace. She isn’t sure peace is a word that applies anymore, but still.
It’s painful to look at him, from the jeans tied at the bottom to the sleeveless vest and the long hair he is too familiar, too mater of fact, too dear. She tries to memorise every last detail as she knows she will never see him again. Or so she hopes. This hope is ruining her most of all as it goes against her very core, but then again too many things do these days.
“Right before she died she said we need to wake up and…” His voice snaps her out of her reverie and she is instantly grateful. “and face our… She didn’t get to finish it.” This time it’s his eyes on her, hers on the ground. “Face out shit she meant we have to face out shit” he says. When she is silent for too long he has to continue. “Are you?”
She shivers as the question is so not him. Not them. He should know better, he should be able to read her better, but he can’t and that devastates her. She knows then that she’s really succeeded in her game of pretence. The victory is bitter as every good thing is now.
“I’m trying.” She walks off, knowing the conversation’s over as is her relationship with him or whatever that thing was. Love. It was probably, surely love and she knows it, but that’s all over now. Gotta be.
“Nah you ain’t.” his words snatch the false comfort of the clean break from her as he snatches the shovel from her hands. “You’re running. There’s only so far to go you know.”
She is mortified and relieved and she isn’t sure there is a balance between the two but she is sure there has to be.
“Will you try to stop me?” That’s not the question she wants to ask, but the one she feels she should be asking.
“No.”
“Will you try to follow me?” Is next on her “to ask” list and there is no hope in her voice, only the need to know. She surely doesn’t hope for that - having him near would defeat the purpose of the whole affair.
“No.” He doesn’t walk off and she is kept waiting, guessing, feeling the ground rumble below her feet that are suddenly restless.
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m going to honour her.” He nods to the wound in the ground that is now several feet away from them. “And face my shit.”
His lips are soft against hers as she forgets how to breathe.
“And now you have to face yours.” His words ring in her ears long after he’s gone.
“Sealed with a kiss” she thinks and smirks, a dark one but a smirk nonetheless. He has definitely sealed her fate with one today and she wishes she could hate him for cutting off her only escape route to sanity, but she can’t bring herself to.
I did a thing post 6x14 =) also on Ao3 http://archiveofourown.org/works/6252043
Choices
“What?! Gimme that!” Daryl snatched the note from Rick’s hands and ran it over. “The hell?”
Rick sighed, “Daryl, we need to be reasonable here…”
Within seconds the other man was on his feet, the now rugged paper dangling from his fingers. “You call this shit reasonable?”
“We need to…”
“Fuck that. I gotta find her.”
He was already on the porch when Rick’s iron grip met his elbow. “No one is going anywhere,” the leader growled at him.
“Yeah? You wanna try and stop me?” Their eyes met and finally Rick had to lower his gaze. The man was in his right.
“She did.” He finally said, his voice quieter now, trying to get through to Daryl who looked like a wounded animal at that point. “She said - don’t come after me please.” He took a pause then, reluctant to use his last argument, but looking at Daryl’s stubborn posture Rick knew he had to. “It was meant for you.” He finished, knowing those five words would hurt Daryl more than the events that had already transpired. He had to try though.
Daryl tore his arm away from Rick’s grip, his movements abrupt, bristling up even more within seconds. “I know,” he spat.
Next thing Rick knew he was speeding out of the gate.
“I don’t want you here” was the first thing she told him when he finally caught up with her two days later. She didn’t even go far - he searched for her all over and was quite pissed to bump into her in close vicinity of Alexandria. Like she has actually hoped he wouldn’t go after her - didn’t even put in an effort to get as far away as possible. That made him angrier.
“Why?” He hopped of his bike and was now looming over her form. She was sitting by a small fire she had set up, her face lit by the flames as the day was beginning to fade away. He sat down next to her when she didn’t answer. This was good. She was there. Well, maybe she was not really there but at least physically she was present. He’d found her. Again.
Carol stared on into the flames, lost in them and probably in her own mind. When she finally spoke Daryl almost missed it - the words were quiet, but weighed a lot, at least that was the way if felt as she let them out.
“Everything has a price now.” She said. “Safety. Love. Freedom. Life.” Her eyes shot up to meet his and Daryl almost shuddered at the darkness that faced him. Maybe it was just the darkness creeping up on them. “It’s not free anymore.”
Daryl’s mind was in overdrive. He knew that this had to be handled with utmost care, that wrong words would send her running for the hills all over again. He also knew he was the worst man for the job - words weren’t his thing. However it was about Carol so he was willing to try.
“Was it ever?” He went for an open question, hoping she would give him more to go by, to hold on to.
“Yes.” A pause. “No.” Another. “It doesn’t matter. I’m all out of cash” Carol’s smirk was like a ghost on her lips, never reaching her eyes. “It’s too high. The price. What you said that day. That you should have killed the people you saved.” She was looking him in the eye again as Daryl fought to keep his expression neutral. This was about her, not about his regrets. “You were right. I know it. You know it. But it’s wrong, we also know that. That’s just the thing - wrong is right now. And that’s the price we pay. But I can’t anymore. I won’t.”
“You think this is a choice?” Daryl tried to speak softly, but the anger that’d been bubbling inside since he saw the note on a shiny morning two days ago wouldn’t let him. “You think you can just walk away? That an option?” Her looking away only spurred him on in spite of his best judgement. “You think you can get clean now? Don’t have anyone so you won’t have to kill? That’s bullshit.” He kicked the nearest log, cursing inwardly. She was still silent, her shoulders tense - he knew he was just making things worse. Daryl took a deep breath. “How long before you run into people? Huh? How long before they try to kill you, rob you or eat you? How long before you have to kill again? This world ain’t clean anymore. But we have to live in it.”
“How?” her question came out as a half-sob and Daryl found that his own breath was caught in his throat.
“Dunno.” He mumbled, saddened by his own lack of perspective. He really didn’t know, couldn't offer any comfort for her if she believed loving people was making things worse. People. Love. Family. Those were the answers to her question but she wouldn’t have them. He didn’t have anything else. “I think you’re right though.” He admitted, half-hating himself for it.
“About what?” She fished a couple of oatmeal bars out of her backpack and handed now two him “Got lucky in a supermarket.”
“Alexandria.” Daryl paused, reluctant to say it out loud. He knew he had to. “That’s what we were all looking for. No one thought that once we find it we’d be in a new kind of hell. Have to fight for it against the whole world every day.”
“The price is too high.” She echoed her words from earlier, biting into her bar. “It’s already cost us turning into killers for hire. What’s next? Is there a limit to what we would do? To what I would do? I don’t want to find out, Daryl.”
“I know. Said you’re right, didn’t I?” He huffed, shivering in the chilly evening air. “We should find shelter for the night.”
“You should go back. You still have time before nightfall.” There it was again, her actively not looking at him.
“That’s why you were so close to home then? Knew I’d come for you.”
“You almost always have before.” Carol smiled weakly at him. “But now I…” He could tell she was fighting back tears. “Our paths are separate now. I’m choosing something. That’s what Maggie said about the baby. She’s choosing something. I am too. I am choosing this.”
He knew instantly what she meant. She was choosing the life they had all dreamed of escaping, having found the perfect escape in Alexandria. She was choosing the life on the road, the uncertain nights, uneven meals, coldness and fear. She was choosing survival. And if it called for killing someone so be it, but it would be for life, not for walls, warmth, food or safety. Not because someone was stupid or someone made the call. That was the only price she was willing to pay.
“Fine by me. Do we have to choose sleeping outside or could we try to not freeze our asses off?”
Her eyes were huge and the emotion in them could have melted his heart if that hadn’t happened years ago when he first got to know her. “Daryl?” She sounded like she was hopeful against her will and he shrugged.
“Told ya you were right. I was out most of the time anyway, a case of cabin fever I guess. So…” Daryl got up abruptly, shaking off the dirt from his pants and picking up his backpack, looking busy.
As usual he was trying to minimise the true extent of his actions by pretending it wasn’t a big deal, but Carol knew otherwise. She didn't try to argue with his decision though - when Daryl made up his mind it was for good and she knew him well enough to respect that.
“There’s a house behind those bushes.” She picked up her own backpack and helped Daryl put out the fire. “It’s quite small though so we might have to share a bed. At least I hope so.” She winked at him and smiled sincerely for the first time in months when he snorted:
“Stop.”
Things were good. Well… better.
The cabin was indeed small and they did have to share a bed. It wasn’t as much fun as Carol could have imagined - Daryl was short with her throughout the whole settling down phase. He snapped at her for twisting and turning, then turned his back on her completely. Carol let her fingers run over his shoulder when she asked the question that had been on her mind that whole time.
“What about the group?”
“They can handle themselves.” He grumbled, “And it’s not like we can never visit. Sleep. And stop that.”
She realised she was still running lazy circles on his shoulder and jerked her hand back. “They’re your family.” She whispered and he surprised her by turning around and facing her. It was dark, but she could feel his intense stare.
“Nah. You are.”
Carol gulped, the moment laced with tension, thrilling and terrifying at the same time.
“They are like annoying relatives we put up with.” He added and she guessed he was smirking in the dark. “Now sleep.”
With that a strong arm sneaked around her waist, pulling her closer as if it was meant to be from the start. If it wasn’t it should have been meant to be from the start because they fit perfectly. Her head found sanctuary against his shoulder, her arm found peace on his half-sleeping form and Carol worried momentarily if this new thing would cost her too much, if in the end she had ran away from Alexandria only to run into something even more priceless then what she was trying to escape in the first place. But then Daryl’s breath felt warm against her hair and his fingers twitched against her hip and she knew that this was not something she could ever give up as long as she was alive.
“Maybe… If you feel like it we could try saving some people. Like I did with Aaron. Would give us a chance to visit.” Daryl whispered against her hair and Carol knew he only said it out loud because he believed her asleep already. She considered letting him get away with it and feigning sleep. She really did. But that was who he was. They were most definitely stuck with that. That made Carol really, truly, unbelievably happy.
“Maybe.” She whispered back and her lips found his in the dark lightly.
The way he’s so gentle but urgent when he pulls her aside, and he bends down to her level to look at her closely and see how she is, and when he realizes that she’s actually there and alive he calms a bit and stands back up, but THE WHOLE TIME he has his eyes fixed on her and he’s moving his hand around on her shoulder because he’s just beside himself worried and he can’t keep still.
I can’t deal with how precious this is. Daryl Dixon being SO FUCKING CONCERNED about her.
How could you not see how much he loves her?
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