#caryl symbolism

[youmakethelight]

At this point, I'm convinced there's a caryl shipper who keeps sneaking into all the writers rooms and adding little caryl hints to the scripts while no one's looking. No way there are this many subtext cues in every single script if there isn't someone in there trying to be a caryl truther.

[yua0ra]

𝐒𝐩𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐲

WARNINGS: theatrelover!theo x cinemalover!fem!reader, sex, porn with plot, semi-public sex, p in v, raw, cursing, hot, fingering, NSFW, english is not my first language. not proofread | minors please dni. smut 🂡

SUMMARY: In the cool of the evening, when everything is getting kind of groovy, you call me up and ask me: would I like to go with you and see a movie? First I say "No, Ive got some plans for tonight." But then I stop and say "All right".

WC: 6.3K AN: HAHAHAH finally, after what it seemed like a fucking eternity, I bring you... Theodore SMUT. Everyone say thank you! JK, enjoy it, you whore. <3

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓:

Theodore Nott had an insufferable, borderline pretentious love for contemporary theatre. He would wax poetic about the brilliance of Jez Butterworth, the raw grit of Simon Stephens, and the immersive absurdity of Caryl Churchill. You, on the other hand, were a cinephile at heart—Tarantino’s razor-sharp dialogue, Scorsese’s masterful character studies, Nolan’s intricate narratives. You could analyze Pulp Fiction’s non-linear structure just as easily as you could tear apart The Wolf of Wall Street’s moral ambiguity.

Despite your differences, you both had an undeniable appreciation for storytelling—whether on stage or on screen. And naturally, that appreciation often turned into petty arguments.

"You can’t tell me The Ferryman isn’t one of the best pieces of theatre in the last decade," Theo scoffed one day, arms crossed as he leaned back in his chair.

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, please. Jez is just doing modern-day Greek tragedy with a sprinkle of Irish drama. It’s compelling, sure, but it’s not reinventing the wheel."

Theo narrowed his eyes. "And what, you think Tarantino’s constant foot fetish and non-linear storytelling is revolutionary?"

"At least Tarantino has mastered the art of tension," you shot back. "The Sicilian scene in True Romance? The diner scene in Reservoir Dogs? You don’t need an elaborate set change or monologues drenched in metaphor—you just need two people in a room and a damn good script."

"That’s rich coming from someone who praises Tennessee Williams and Arthur Miller—two of the most dialogue-heavy playwrights in existence."

Your friends groaned. They were used to this. You and Theo could argue for hours over narrative devices, symbolism, and whether theatre or cinema was the superior storytelling medium.

But one afternoon, during an extracurricular drama lesson, the argument escalated to a level that left everyone in the room speechless.

The class was discussing adaptations—how literature, theatre, and film intertwined.

Theo, ever the theatrical purist, argued, “Plays allow for the rawest human emotion. There are no camera tricks, no fancy editing—just an actor on stage, exposed. That’s why theatre will always have a deeper emotional impact than cinema.”

You weren’t about to let that slide. “That’s a wildly limited way of thinking. Film is just as much a visual art as it is a narrative one. Sure, theatre relies on the performer’s ability to hold an audience, but film can show a character’s internal struggle without a single word of dialogue. A glance, a shift in lighting—those subtle details can hit just as hard as a monologue.”

Theo tilted his head, amused. “Alright, then. A Streetcar Named Desire—would you rather see it on stage or in Elia Kazan’s adaptation?”

You smirked. “Kazan’s adaptation is brilliant, but you’re proving my point. The film version utilizes Marlon Brando’s raw, visceral performance while also using close-ups, sound design, and visual metaphors to enhance it. Theatre is powerful, but it’s limited by its medium. Film has more tools.”

The tension in the room thickened as you both volleyed back and forth—citing everything from Angels in America to Taxi Driver, from Arthur Miller’s The Crucible to Nolan’s Memento.

By the time you both stopped to take a breath, the rest of the class was staring at you like they had just witnessed an academic duel to the death.

Blaise, looking mildly concerned, muttered, “I think you two just argued in a language no one else speaks.” Pansy blinked and slowly nodded her head, “did you just name-drop fifteen different playwrights and directors in the span of five minutes?”

Draco, unimpressed, simply said, “I came here to watch people pretend to be trees, not to witness whatever that was.”

You and Theo exchanged a look. And, despite everything, a slow grin spread across both your faces. Because for all the arguing, all the differences, and all the passionate debates—you loved every second of it.

- ★、

The weekend had finally arrived, and with it, your much-anticipated cinema trip. It wasn’t every day you got to slip away from the castle, apparate to London, and immerse yourself in the warm glow of a dimly lit theatre, the smell of buttered popcorn thick in the air. Tonight’s screening? A Tarantino classic—Inglourious Basterds. You were practically buzzing with excitement as you stepped into the theatre, savoring the moment before the film began.

And then you saw him.

Theodore. Bloody. Nott.

Leaning against the concession stand, hands in his pockets, looking as if he belonged in some noir film with his perfectly tailored coat and unimpressed expression. His sharp gaze flicked over to you, a slow smirk tugging at his lips.

“Well, well,” he drawled, stepping closer. “Didn’t peg you for the type to sneak off to London alone for a late-night film screening. How rebellious.”

Your eyes narrowed. “And you didn’t strike me as the type to appreciate Tarantino. What are you doing here, Theo?”

He raised an eyebrow, feigning offense. “What, am I not allowed to expand my horizons? Maybe I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”

You scoffed, crossing your arms. “Oh, please. You’ve spent weeks slandering film in favor of theatre, and now you suddenly show up to a Tarantino movie of all things?”

Theo hummed thoughtfully, stepping closer, so close that the scent of his cologne—expensive and frustratingly good—filled your senses. “Maybe,” he mused, “I just enjoy riling you up.”

You rolled your eyes, but your heart was betraying you with its traitorous thump against your ribs. “Right. So you apparated to London, found this exact cinema, and happened to pick the same showing as me? Coincidence?”

His smirk deepened. “Perhaps.”

Before you could interrogate him further, the theatre doors opened, and people started filing inside. You exhaled, shaking your head. “You know what? I don’t care why you’re here. Just—don’t ruin the film for me.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he murmured, trailing after you.

You found your seat, sinking into the plush velvet, determined to ignore the fact that Theodore Nott had somehow ended up in the seat directly beside you. He stretched out, looking infuriatingly at ease, as if this hadn’t been some grand invasion of your sacred cinema time.

And then, as the lights dimmed and the first scene flickered onto the screen, Theo leaned in—just enough for his breath to ghost against your ear.

“If this film doesn’t impress me,” he whispered, “you owe me a ticket to the next play I pick.”

You turned your head slightly, meeting his gaze, and smirked. “Fine. But when you inevitably love it, you’re admitting I was right.”

Theodore just chuckled, his fingers tapping idly against the armrest. “We’ll see.”

As the film unfolded on the screen, you found yourself hyperaware of Theodore’s presence beside you. It was ridiculous, really—how could one person occupy so much space without actually moving? 

His elbow rested dangerously close to yours on the armrest, his long legs stretched out in that careless way he always sat, as if the entire world was his to lounge in. 

You tried to focus on the movie, on the tense exchange between Landa and Perrier LaPadite, but Theo shifted slightly, his knee brushing against yours, and suddenly, every bit of dialogue seemed to drown beneath the sound of your own heartbeat.

You weren’t sure when it happened—when the push and pull of your debates, the sharp edge of your banter, had morphed into something more charged, something that left a static hum in the air between you. 

Maybe it had always been there, simmering beneath every eye roll, every challenge, every smirk that lasted a second too long. And now, sitting here in the dim glow of the theatre, with flickering light casting shadows across his annoyingly perfect features, it was impossible to ignore.

Halfway through the film, Theo leaned in again, his voice barely above a whisper. “Alright, I’ll admit it. The dialogue is brilliant.”

You smirked, keeping your eyes trained on the screen. “Told you.”

His fingers tapped idly against the armrest, a steady, maddening rhythm. “Still doesn’t mean it’s better than theatre.”

You turned your head slightly, lips curving in amusement. “Oh? And why’s that?”

Theo tilted his face toward you, his voice dropping lower, smoother. “Because film lets you hide. Close-ups, cuts, music—it manipulates how you feel. Theatre? It’s raw. No second takes. No distractions.” His eyes flickered over your face, lingering just a moment too long on your lips. “You can’t escape it.”

A shiver ran down your spine, though whether it was from his words or the way his voice curled around them, you weren’t entirely sure. You swallowed, forcing yourself to focus. “You call it hiding. I call it perspective. The camera lets you see things no audience member ever could—something intimate, something only you get to witness.”

Theo hummed, considering that. The tension between you had shifted into something heavier, something that pressed into the space between breaths. He was still close, close enough that you could catch the faintest scent of his cologne, the warmth radiating from where his arm rested near yours. It would be so easy to lean in just a little more, to close that final inch between you.

And then, just as you were about to force yourself to sit back, to pretend none of this was affecting you, he moved.

Slow, deliberate. His fingers brushed against the back of your hand, the touch featherlight, testing. Your breath hitched, your pulse hammering against your ribs, but you didn’t pull away. Theo, ever perceptive, took that as permission, his fingers shifting, tracing the delicate curve of your wrist.

“You’re… mad, Theo. You’re out of your mind,” you murmured, barely aware you had spoken the words aloud.

His lips quirked, but there was something darker in his gaze now, something that sent heat curling low in your stomach. “That’s right…,” he murmured, his fingers sliding between yours, “but you’re too, you haven’t moved.”

You knew you should say something—should tease him, should act unaffected—but all logic had abandoned you the moment his hand fully curled around yours. The room around you had disappeared, the film reduced to a distant hum in the background.

Then, with a slow, deliberate movement, Theo lifted your intertwined hands, brushing his lips against the inside of your wrist. It was barely a kiss—more of a ghost of one—but it sent a shiver straight down your spine, igniting something electric in your veins.

Your breath hitched. “Theo—”

“I know,” he murmured, voice impossibly low, as if he was reading every thought racing through your mind. His thumb traced slow, teasing circles over your palm, his lips still hovering dangerously close to your skin. “Tell me to stop.”

But you didn’t.

You exhaled shakily, tilting your head slightly toward him, meeting his gaze through the dim flicker of the screen. “What if I don’t want to?”

His smirk deepened, but there was something softer there, something almost unreadable. For a moment, he just looked at you, as if memorizing every detail, before he finally whispered, “Then we might have a problem.”

And the worst part?

You wanted to find out just how much of a problem it could be.

The world outside of your little bubble had disappeared completely—the film playing on the screen, the murmur of the other audience members, the distant rustling of popcorn bags—it all faded into nothing. All that remained was Theodore, his touch burning into your skin, the weight of his gaze heavy as it flickered down to your lips.

His hand tightened ever so slightly around yours, his thumb tracing the delicate skin of your wrist, and you swore you felt your heartbeat stutter. There was something unbearably patient about the way he was looking at you, like he was waiting—waiting for you to pull away, to scoff and shove him off, to turn this into just another one of your never-ending debates. But you didn’t move.

Instead, you found yourself leaning in, the warmth between you growing thick, heavy. Your noses brushed—barely, just a whisper of contact—but it sent something electric crackling through your veins.

Theo exhaled sharply, like he’d been holding his breath. His voice was nothing more than a murmur, just for you. “You’re really not stopping me.”

You smirked, fingers tightening slightly around his. “I thought you liked risks.”

His lips caught yours in the next breath, slow at first—just a soft, testing press, as if he wasn’t entirely sure this was real. But then you sighed against his mouth, tilting your head slightly, and finally leaned in.

Theo let go of whatever restraint he had left. His free hand came up to cradle your jaw, fingers pressing gently beneath your ear as he deepened the kiss, slow and deliberate, like he wanted to savor every second.

He tasted faintly of Italian summer and something richer, something entirely him. His touch was both careful and possessive, like he was memorizing the shape of you beneath his fingertips. You felt yourself melt into it, the heat between you intensifying, stealing the breath from your lungs.

You barely noticed the way his thumb brushed over your cheek, the way he tilted your chin just slightly to kiss you deeper. Everything about it was intoxicating—the way he moved, the way he swallowed the quiet little sigh that escaped you, the way his fingers flexed against your skin like he didn’t want to let go.

Somewhere in the background, the movie continued playing—gunfire, sharp dialogue, the rise of a dramatic score—but it all blurred into nothing. All you could focus on was Theo, on the way he was kissing you like he’d been waiting for this, like he wasn’t sure he’d get another chance.

When he finally, reluctantly, pulled away, his lips barely ghosting over yours, you were both breathless. His forehead rested against yours for a moment, his fingers still cupping your jaw, his thumb tracing absent patterns over your skin.

You opened your eyes slowly, meeting his gaze. His pupils were blown, his lips slightly parted, and for the first time, Theodore Nott looked entirely, devastatingly undone.

A slow, lazy smirk curled at the corner of his lips. “Well,” he murmured, voice slightly rough. “I suppose I owe Tarantino some credit after all.”

You let out a breathy laugh, rolling your eyes. “Unbelievable.”

He chuckled, fingers trailing down the side of your throat, as if he wasn’t quite ready to stop touching you yet. “Admit it,” he said, his voice low and teasing. “You liked that more than the film.”

You hummed, pretending to consider. “Jury’s still out.”

Theo smirked, his lips brushing yours again in a featherlight kiss, like a silent promise. “Then I guess I’ll just have to convince you.”

And as he pulls you back into another kiss, slow and deep and utterly devastating, you realise with absolute certainty—you were in trouble.

Theodore's hand tangles in your hair, tilting your head to deepen the kiss, his lips moving with an urgency that steals your breath. He pulls you closer, eliminating any remaining distance between your bodies, his heart hammering against his ribs. 

His other hand splays across your lower back, pressing you flush against him as the kiss grows more heated, more demanding. He nips at your lower lip, his tongue soothing the sting before delving back into your mouth, stroking along yours in a dance that leaves you breathless. The cinema, the other people, the movie - it all disappears. There is only the two of you, lost in the passion of this stolen moment. 

When Theodore finally breaks the kiss, you're both left panting, your chests heaving as you struggle to catch your breath. He rests his forehead against yours, his eyes fluttering open to gaze into yours with an intensity that makes your heart stutter. “Fuck..." he breathes, his voice ragged with desire.

And then, an act on impulse, a surge of primal instinct driving him. In one swift, fluid motion, he reaches under your thighs and lifts you effortlessly, settling you straddled on his lap. The sudden change in position startles you both, but the shock quickly melts into a shiver of pleasure as you feel the hard, muscular length of his thighs beneath you. 

The cinema has long since faded from your awareness; now there is only the two of you, the heat building between your bodies, the electricity crackling in the air. 

Theodore's hands grip your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh almost hard enough to bruise as he holds you in place. Your chest is pressed against his, and you can feel the pounding of his heart, the rapid rise and fall of his breathing. 

His eyes are dark, almost black in the dim light, blazing into yours with an intensity that makes your own pulse race. "Darling," he murmurs, his voice a low, husky rumble. His hands move again up your back, one tangling in your hair while the other cups the back of your neck, pulling you into a searing, desperate kiss. 

The kiss is a clash of lips and tongues, a dance of passion and pent-up longing. It's a kiss that speaks of a hunger, a need, a desperation that can no longer be contained. Theodore kisses you like a man starved, like he is trying to devour you, to consume you, to make you a part of him.

Red faced, messy hair, you look up at him. “Sh-shit Theo, we shouldn’t be doing this here.” You quietly giggled.

Theodore chuckles softly at your giggle, a sound that sends a shiver down your spine. He doesn't stop his ministrations, his hands still roaming your curves with a familiar confidence. 

But he does lean back slightly, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. 

"Shh, shh, bella, what's the matter? Don't tell me you're getting shy on me now..." he teases, his voice a low murmur meant only for your ears. 

"We're just two lovers, lost in the moment. Surely there's no harm in that?" His hand slides from your hip to your thigh, his fingers tracing maddeningly slow circles on your skin. Your breath hitches at the touch, a fresh wave of goosebumps erupting across your flesh.

Theodore's eyes darken with lust as he feels your hips squirming against him, your plush rear rubbing against his hardening cock through the fabric of his trousers. 

A low, guttural groan escapes his lips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh of your thighs. His other hand slides up your side, his fingertips skimming the side of your breast, teasing you with the promise of his touch. 

He leans in closer, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin of your neck, his breath hot and heavy against your flesh. "Gorgeous, you feel what you do to me, don't you?" he murmurs, his voice a low, husky growl. 

His words sent a shiver down your spine, heat pooling low in your stomach as your grip tightened on his coat. The way he spoke, all dark velvet and wicked amusement, made your head spin. You did feel it—the tension thrumming between you, the heat of his body pressed against yours, the way his fingers ghosted over your skin like he was memorizing the shape of you. And Merlin, it was driving you insane.

Your breath hitched as you shifted against him, creating more friction, desperate for anything to relieve the ache building inside you. His sharp inhale, the barely restrained groan against your throat, sent a rush of satisfaction through you.

"Fuck," Theo muttered, his lips grazing the delicate skin beneath your jaw. "You're dangerous."

A breathy laugh escaped you, but it was cut short as he tightened his grip on your waist, pulling you impossibly closer. His nose skimmed along the column of your throat before he pressed an open-mouthed kiss there, slow and deliberate, as if savoring the way you trembled against him.

"You drive me crazy, you know that?" he murmured, lips brushing against your pulse point. "Arguing with you, watching you get all worked up—Merlin—and now this?" His teeth grazed your skin, not quite biting, just enough to make your breath stutter. "Gorgeous, you have no idea how long I've wanted this."

His confession sent a fresh wave of heat through you, and you couldn't help the way your hips rolled against his, seeking more of the delicious friction he so easily provided. His hands gripped you tighter, his restraint fraying with each passing second.

Theo let out a strained chuckle, pulling back just enough to look at you, his eyes dark and filled with something dangerous. "If you keep doing that, sweetheart," he murmured, voice thick with desire, "I'm going to forget we're in a bloody cinema."

The thought sent a thrill through you, but you knew he was right. The dim glow of the screen cast flickering shadows across his sharp features, but the reality of your surroundings was quickly slipping away, drowned out by the intoxicating heat between you.

You licked your lips, breathless. "Then maybe you should."

Theo stilled for a fraction of a second, his fingers flexing against your waist. And then—Merlin, then—his lips curled into a slow, knowing smirk.

"Brilliant idea, darling," he purred.

And before you could second-guess yourself, before the haze of lust could fade, Theo was back at it again, with more force and more desire.

Theodore's hand cups your breast fully now, his thumb and forefinger pinching and rolling your hardened nipple through the thin material of your shirt. His lips trail up your neck, pausing to nip and suck at your pulse point before moving to your ear. 

"I want to bend you over the back of this seat and fuck you until you scream, until the entire cinema knows who you belong to," he whispers, his voice rough with need. 

"I want to make you come on my cock again and again until you're begging me to stop, until you're completely and utterly satisfied..." His hand slides down your stomach, his fingers slipping beneath the waistband of your skirt, teasing the sensitive skin just above where you crave his touch most. 

Theodore's eyes blaze into yours, filled with a hunger and a desperation that makes your core clench with anticipation. "But I suppose I can be patient, for now," he murmurs, a smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. 

"After all, the anticipation, the build-up, the waiting... it's all part of the thrill, isn't it? Knowing that I could take you right here, right now, but choosing not to... for now." 

He pulls you into another searing kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, claiming you, consuming you, until you're left breathless and wanting. 

When he finally breaks the kiss, he rests his forehead against yours, a wicked glint in his eye. "Tell me," he murmurs, his voice a low, sinful purr. "What do you want, my clever little witch?”

“N-no, Theo.” You blush, feeling hot. “I’m too turned on, I’ll be quiet I promise.” 

Theodore's eyes flash with triumph and desire at your breathless, needy words. A smug, satisfied smirk spreads across his handsome face as he realizes the effect he's having on you. 

His hand slides further down, his fingers brushing against your clothed sex, feeling the damp heat radiating through the fabric. "Mmm, is that so, pretty?" he murmurs, his voice a low, husky purr. 

"You want me to fuck you, right here, right now, don't you? Want me to slip my hard, aching cock inside your tight, wet little cunt until you're screaming my name?" His fingers rub slow, teasing circles over your clothed clit, applying just enough pressure to make you squirm and whimper with need. 

Theodore leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he whispers, his voice dripping with sinful promise. "I promise, I'll make it worth it. I'll fuck you so hard and so good that you'll forget where we are, and every single time, that you watch this movie, you will only see me.” 

His other hand slides up your shirt, pushing the fabric out of the way to expose your heaving breasts. He cups the soft mounds, kneading and squeezing them, his thumbs and forefingers pinching and tugging at your hardened nipples. 

"You just need to be a good girl and stay quiet for me, understand? No matter how much you want to scream, no matter how much you want to cry out in ecstasy, you need to stay silent. Think you can do that, tesoro?" Theodore's eyes blaze into yours, filled with a hunger and a desperation that makes your core clench with anticipation. 

His hand slips beneath your skirt, his fingers brushing against your slick folds, feeling the evidence of your arousal. 

"Tell me, baby," he murmurs, his voice a low, commanding growl. "Are you ready for me to fuck you like you've never been fucked before, right here, right now, in front of all these unsuspecting people?”

Theodore takes your silent nod as the consent it is, his eyes darkening with a new wave of lust and desire. 

His hand slips further beneath your skirt, his fingers brushing against your slick, bare folds, feeling the evidence of your arousal coating his skin. With a low, guttural groan, he pushes two fingers deep inside you, his thumb rubbing tight circles over your clit. 

He pumps his fingers in and out of your tight heat, his palm pressing against your clit with each thrust, sending shockwaves of pleasure ricocheting through your body. Theodore leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear, his voice a low, husky whisper. “Shit, you're so fucking wet. So ready for my cock, aren't you? I can feel your greedy little cunt sucking me in, begging to be filled..." 

His other hand still up your shirt, pushes the fabric of your bra out of the way completely. He leans down, taking the stiff peak into his mouth, suckling and nibbling until you're writhing against him, barely able to stay silent. 

Thank Merlin, you guys are in the last row, and the cinema’s loud speakers consume the room, the attention of the silent watchers move away from you both, the world narrowing down to the feeling of Theodore's hands on your body, his fingers pumping in and out of your dripping sex, his mouth on your breast. 

You can feel the hard, thick length of his cock pressing against your ass, the evidence of his own desperate arousal. Theodore's hand slides from your breast to grip the back of your neck, holding you in place as he grinds his hips against yours, the rough fabric of his trousers rubbing against your sensitive flesh. 

He captures your lips in a searing, desperate kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth, claiming you, consuming you. 

"Mmh... please Teddy." You can't hold it in. It's been too long, he's teasing too much. "Hurry up so we can get the hell out."

Noticing your discomfort, and your inability to stay fucking quiet, Theodore’s eyes widen briefly at your plea, a wicked grin spreading across his face. He chuckles softly, a low, sinful sound that sends a shiver down your spine. 

His fingers continue their relentless assault on your dripping pussy, pumping in and out, curling against that sensitive spot deep inside you that makes your toes curl and your back arch. "Mmm, so eager, aren't you beautiful?" he murmurs, his voice a low, teasing purr. 

"So desperate for my cock, so hungry for me to fill you up, to make you mine..." 

He nips at your lower lip, his teeth tugging on the tender flesh, before soothing the sting with his tongue. His hand slides from your neck to your hip, gripping the curve possessively. "Very well, my love. I suppose we can finish the movie another time… too bad we couldn’t do it in here.” 

Theodore's voice is low and rough with desire as he slowly withdraws his fingers from your dripping sex. You whimper at the loss, your body aching to be filled, to be stretched and used. He stands abruptly, pulling you up with him. 

With deft, practiced movements, he straightens your skirt and shirt, making you presentable once more. Taking your hand in his, he leads you quickly and quietly out of the cinema, weaving through the darkened aisles until you reach the emergency exit at the back. 

Pushing open the door, Theodore pulls you into the cool night air, the stars twinkling above you in the inky black sky. He doesn't stop until he finds a secluded spot behind a tall hedgerow, hidden from view of the cinema and the buzzing streets of London. 

Turning to face you, Theodore pulls you flush against him, his hands gripping your hips with hands that you knew would leave a mark. 

He connects both your mouths, hurriedly, impatient to fuck you good.

He groans into your mouth, his tongue delving deep, stroking along yours, tasting you, consuming you. His hands slide down to cup your ass, squeezing the firm globes before lifting you up, encouraging you to wrap your legs around his waist.

 He carries you a few steps further, until your back is pressed against the rough bark of a sturdy brick wall. 

Breaking the kiss, Theodore leans back just enough to look into your eyes, his own blazing with a hunger and a desperation that makes your heart race. 

He reaches down with one hand, fumbling briefly with the fastenings of his trousers before freeing his aching cock. It springs forth, shiny and veiny and heavy, the swollen head already glistening with precum. 

He strokes himself once, twice, hissing at the sensation, before gripping your thigh and positioning himself at your entrance. "Tell me, beautiful," he murmurs, his voice a low, rough growl. "Tell me you want this. Tell me you need my cock inside you, filling you, claiming you, making you mine. Say it, cara mia..." He rubs the head of his cock teasingly against your slick folds, coating himself in your arousal. 

His other hand slides up your jaw, cupping your face, his thumb playing with your swollen pouty lips. His eyes bore into yours, filled with a desperate, aching need. The cool night air kisses your skin, but the heat building between your bodies is scorching, all consuming.

Theodore's chest heaves with each ragged breath, his heart pounding against his ribs. He's waiting for your consent, your permission, his body trembling with the effort of holding back. 

With a sudden, sharp thrust, he sheaths himself inside you, burying his thick, hard length deep into your tight, wet heat. He groans, a sound of pure, unadulterated pleasure that sends shockwaves through your body. 

He starts to move, his hips rolling against yours, his cock sliding in and out of your dripping sex with long, deep strokes. “Cazzo..." Theodore grits out, his voice strained with exertion and ecstasy. "You feel exquisite, like you were made just for me. So fucking tight, so fucking perfect..." He captures your lips in a searing kiss, swallowing your moans and cries of pleasure. 

His hands grip your hips, pulling you down to meet his thrusts, the force of them making you shake against the hard wall.

Theodore groans at your sudden cry, the sound turning him on. He pistons his hips faster, driving into you with a newfound urgency, the force of his thrusts making the old oak tree shudder and sway around you. 

"That's it, bella," he pants, his voice a low, rough growl. "Let me hear you. I want to hear every little sound you make, every desperate plea falling from your pretty lips. Were not in there any more, don’t hold back princess…” 

One hand slides from your hip to your thigh, pushing your leg higher up his waist, opening you up to him, allowing him to delve even deeper into your tight, clenching heat. 

The other hand slides up your shirt, exposing once again your heaving breasts to the cool night air. Theodore leans down, taking one hardened nipple into his mouth, suckling and nibbling at the sensitive bud until you're writhing against him, your fingers tangling in his dark hair.

 He laves his tongue over the reddened flesh, soothing the sting of his bites before moving to its twin, giving it the same attention.

 All the while, he never stops his relentless assault on your pussy, his cock pounding into you with a force that steals your breath and makes stars explode behind your eyelids.

 You can feel the tension building low in your belly, the coil tightening with each thrust, each stroke, each press of his hips against yours. Theodore's hand slides between your bodies, his fingers finding your clit, rubbing tight circles over the swollen nub. 

His touch is electric, sending shockwaves of pleasure ricocheting through your body, pushing you closer and closer to the edge. "That's it, baby," he murmurs against your breast, his voice a low, sinful purr. 

"Come for me, my love. Come on my cock like the perfect little angel you are. I want to feel you…” 

Theodore feels your sex clamp down around his cock like a vice as your orgasm overtakes you. He groans, a sound of pure, unadulterated pleasure that echoes through the quiet night air, as your walls flutter and spasm around his throbbing length. 

He doesn't slow his thrusts, instead pounding into your quivering heat with a newfound fervor, prolonging your climax, drawing out your ecstasy. 

“Yes, yes, yes… just like that” he growls, his voice ragged and strained with his own impending release. "Fuck, you're squeezing me so tightly, like you never want to let me go. I can feel your greedy little cunt trying to swallow this big dick.” 

He captures your lips in a bruising kiss, swallowing your cries of pleasure, his tongue delving deep to stroke along yours, to dance and twine with yours in a lewd, filthy imitation of the act taking place below. 

His hands grip your ass, squeezing the firm globes, pulling you harder against him, burying himself impossibly deeper inside you with each powerful thrust. Theo's fingers continue their relentless assault on your clit, rubbing tight, fast circles over the sensitive nub, pushing you through your climax and straight into another. 

Your body is trembling, shaking, the pleasure almost too intense to bear as he fucks you through the aftershocks, the waves of bliss crashing over you again and again. He can feel his own release building, the tension coiling at the base of his spine, his balls drawing up tight. 

With a final, brutal thrust, he buries himself to the hilt inside your still fluttering sex, his cock pulsing, throbbing, as he finds his own completion. 

"Fuck, pretty, fuck!" Theodore roars, his voice echoing through the night as he starts to come, his thick, hot seed spurting deep inside you, painting your walls white. 

His hips continue to roll, grinding against yours, drawing out his orgasm, filling you up just like he promised.

 He holds you close as the waves of pleasure slowly ebb, your combined releases trickling down your thighs, marking you, claiming you, making you his. 

Theodore's heart hammers against his chest as he tries to catch his breath, his forehead pressed against yours, his eyes locked with yours.

You felt colder now, the sharp night air finally biting at your flushed skin, but Theo barely let you move away from him. His arms were still wrapped around you, firm and possessive, as if he had no intention of letting you go just yet. And honestly? You weren’t about to complain.

Your breath came in slow, uneven pants as you tried to recover, your forehead still pressed against his. His lips curled into the ghost of a smirk, his usual arrogance softened by the post-bliss haze settling over both of you.

“Merlin,” Theo finally muttered, voice still thick and gravelly, “that was—” He exhaled, shaking his head like he couldn’t even find the words.

You let out a breathy, satisfied laugh, tilting your head to look at him. “Better than theatre?”

His lips twitched, eyes gleaming with mischief. “You’re really asking me that?”

You hummed, feigning nonchalance even as your body still buzzed from everything you’d just done. “Well, I mean, I know you think theatre is the peak of human artistic expression, but surely even you have to admit that was… cinematic.”

Theo let out a short, incredulous laugh. “Cinematic?”

You grinned, biting your lip. “Perfectly timed tension, intense buildup, and an unforgettable climax—I’d say we just gave Scorsese a run for his money.”

Theo groaned, tipping his head back, but you caught the way his lips twitched, like he was trying so hard not to smile. “You would turn this into a bloody film analysis.”

You shrugged, smug. “And you would turn it into a tragic, forbidden romance.”

“Obviously,” he shot back, eyes twinkling with amusement. “Star-crossed lovers, clashing ideals, unbearable tension—”

“—and a dramatic resolution that makes the audience swoon,” you added, nudging his ribs.

He chuckled, shaking his head as he pulled you in closer. “Fine, I’ll admit it. That was—” He lowered his voice, leaning in to whisper against your ear, “—Oscar-worthy.”

You let out an exaggerated gasp, pushing playfully at his chest. “You’re giving credit to film? You? Theodore Nott?”

He smirked, completely unbothered. “Even I have to admit, some performances just can’t be staged.”

You laughed, shaking your head as you finally let yourself melt into his arms, letting the cool London air wrap around you both. “Well, I suppose there’s only one thing left to do now.”

He raised a brow. “And that is?”

You looked up at him, feigning seriousness. “Debrief. Proper analysis, compare our perspectives—”

“Absolutely not,” Theo groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “You’re insufferable.”

You grinned. “And yet, you’re still holding me.”

Theo sighed, shaking his head with an affectionate smirk. “Yeah, well… Guess I do have a weakness for a well-written story.”

His lips met yours again, soft and unhurried this time, and you couldn’t help but think—whether it was theatre or cinema, tragedy or romance—this? This was your favorite story yet.

[noneorother]

Share your GOS2 bibliography with me

How crazy is it that season 2 has basically forced me to go back to university. I’ve done more reading and critical analysis and historical research than I have in years. I bite my thumb at you, Neil (affectionate).

And as I’m sure I’m not alone in this, I’d love to see your bibliography of all of the references or reading/watch lists. I’m sure to pick up a few good ones! I’ll go first.

Movies + TV Arrival - Denis Villeneuve Clue - Jonathan Lynn I Know Where I'm Going - Powell & Pressburger The Ball - Magnus Dennison and Katja Roberts Every Day - Michael Sucsy About Time - Richard Curtis The Red Shoes - Powell & Pressburger The Small Back Room - Powell & Pressburger The Tales of Hoffmann - Powell & Pressburger Stairway to Heaven - Powell & Pressburger Ill Met By Moonlight - Powell & Pressburger The League of Gentlemen's Apocalypse - Steve Bendelack Monty Python's Life of Brian - Terry Jones Monty Python and the Holy Grail - Terry Gilliam & Terry Jones The Twilight zone (The Arrival) Boris Sagal The Twilight zone (The Hitch-Hiker) - Alvin Ganzer Staged (Seasons 1 and 2) - Simon Evans & Phin Glynn Books The Crow Road - Iain Banks The Bridge - Iain Banks The Scholars of Night - John M. Ford Symbols of Sacred Science - René Guénon Catch-22 - Joseph Heller A Tale of Two Cities - Charles Dickens The Colour of Magic - Terry Pratchett Night Watch (Discworld) - Terry Pratchett Parlement of Foules - Geoffrey Chaucer The language of the birds - Farid ud-Din Attar Pride & Prejudice - Jane Austen Persuasion - Jane Austen Midnight Days - Neil Gaiman Negative Burn #11 - Neil Gaiman Chivalry - Neil Gaiman Other Les contes d'Hoffamann - opera, Jacques Offenbach Don Giovanni - opera, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart The Line, the Cross and the Curve - musical, Kate Bush The book of Enoch - Ethiopian Apocryphal trs. Rev. George Schodde, PhD

I'm sure there will be more... sigh. Spoiler alert: there are more! Donnie Darko - 2001, Richard Kelly Nothing Lasts Forever - 1984, Tom Schiller The Ghosts of Berkley Square - 1947, Vernon Sewell Brazil! - 1985, Terry Gilliam No Bed for Bacon - 1941, Caryl Brahms and S. J. Simon Don't, Mr Disraeli! - 1949, Caryl Brahms and S. J. Simon Murder Mysteries - Neil Gaiman The Man Who Was Thursday - 1908, GK Chesterton Small Gods - 1992, Terry Pratchett Ipomadon - Medieval - Trs. Richard Scott-Robinson

[caryl-til-the-end]

How long can we go on like this fellow Carylers?

I want to keep #carylpositivity and I still plan to, even in the midst of adversity. However, I can't ignore the elephant in the room. The big clumsy not very smart elephant. Zabel. I know what Zabel has outright told us. Twice. And I'll get back to that. Zabel has continued the trend of what others that came before him have done but on a whole new "I don't give a shit" level. He's been a big tease. Getting us hot and bothered, just to shoot us down completely. Will they, won't they? If that's not a recipe for disaster, idk what is. Caryl fans aren't just seeing what they "want" to see. They have been bringing us to the edge of the cliff for years, just to pull us right back up again. They have teased & teased, added symbolism, tender touching, telling looks, sweet shows of affection, strong emotion from someone who seldom shows any emotion (I'm thinking the "If she gets hit by lightning scene"), jealousy (Ezekiel), giving up everything just to save each other... Then Zabel opens his big mouth again to basically say Caryl will not happen, AND THEN the teaser comes out the same day and shows CARYL in an intimate pose by the firelight with her shirt off her shoulder and Daryl close by? And Zabel has the audacity to say "I don't see them as romantic". 😡😡🤬🤬 He is stillllllllll gaslighting Carylers and using little hints to keep us barely hoping while flat out saying it won't happen??? Wth! What a brazen, ridiculous, stupid thing to do! AMC if you don't kick him to the curb, you've lost most of your fan base. How will you come back from that? I don't plan to give AMC my money or my time just to be beat down again and again. But I'm a caryl fan. Caryl til the end. As long as the show is still on air, I will maintain hope. I will watch for signs from the fan base that there's a reason to come back (and it better be EXPLICIT); none of these pathetic attempts to keep us hanging on with 0 payoff. I will come back and stick with them as long as they will keep seasons coming IF Caryl canon happens. Until then, I'll be over here still sad and beaten down, but standing strong in my belief that Caryl is and has always been romantic. I won't give up hope, as long as there's any life left. Kick Zabel to the curb and give us a showrunner who loves Caryl as much as we do. A showrunner who will give us a beautiful romantic EPIC story for Caryl that we know has been hiding in the shadows all along. @AMC_TV

[shana-silver-fox]

TBOC 2.03 L'Invisible

The title was clearly a callback to Rick and Carol's conversation at how good she is playing undercover detective. She gets it done in this episode.

Lots found this one boring, but for someone like me who likes to over analyze every little bit it was packed with lots of goodies.

Ces Douleurs

Genet: These pains we carry, we women need to learn to let them go. Men seem to have no problem doing that.

Carol: They certainly do not.

Damn. I FELT THAT hard!

we open with Genet's back story and what will be a parallel later to Tinkyl

The purposeful comparison of Carol to the Mona Lisa is just *chefs kiss.

The most famous painting in the world. The most famous lady of The Walking Dead. Both with that hidden secret behind their smile.

This quickly turns into Genet displaying a show of power over a much bigger man by making him eat food off the floor like a dog. There is another scene in the next episode that is very similiar. Would like to hear ya'lls thoughts on the point of this.

The man she humiliates has disrespected the lady who is serving them food. I lost count of the times haters have tried to diminish and disrespect Carol for "just being the cook". Wonder if this was a Melissa note? Genet tells Carol she has no tolerance for bullies, and no one has been bigger bullies in this fandom than the Carol haters.

Loved this. We know Carol wants Daryl in the kitchen with her.

Experiments. Yes we heard about Daryl’s “experiment” from Norman. Just as gruesome. No thanks.

Cordron: I had him and I let him go.

Carol knows what that’s like. Cordron also thinks Carol’s last name is Dixon now.

More talk about coincidences and signs. Look for the signs. 🪧

Remmy let us down, but his line saying Carol would have done the same for HER DARYL is so true.

The symbolism of Carol riding to the rescue on a white horse through a tunnel was beautiful. She was just cut off, unfortunately. So much tunnel symbolism connected to Caryl I could do a seperate post. Even Losang talks about light at the end of the tunnel. “you make the light” “follow my light”

I do love Carol’s reaction to hearing Daryl has aligned himself with a religious group. “REALLY?” Like the fandom’s reaction to this version of Daryl so far 😂

Carol: the war to end all wars? I’ve heard that before.

Shade at Rick?

Calling Daryl Carol’s raison d’être is spot on. It translates to “reason to live”

Tick tock time for the fairytale to end

Conveniently Sylvia dies so Isabelle doesn’t have to confess to executing Emile.

Why did Izzy just stand there and wait for Daryl to shoot walker Sylvie? Was she gonna let it happen? 🤨

I was impressed with Daryl’s action scene. Norman’s stunt double actually got a bit of a break. He made sure to get his Carol knife back!

Losang’s break down of Daryl is amazing….

losang :Simply reacting. A man alone. It’s a sad state. He’s right. Daryl has been just reacting not feeling since he got to France. and he feels totally alone

Only by risking everything can we be sure. Daryl’s so scared to risk everything with Carol

Daryl: What happens if you’re wrong?

Losang: If I’m wrong there would be no point in going on There’s Daryl’s greatest fear. If he risks it all to tell Carol how he feels and ends up being wrong and she doesn’t feel the same way, then loses her friendship, he will think he doesn’t have a reason to go on.

Laurent and Daryl’s cave couldn’t be more Lost Boys coded.

Laurent: Not Daryl. He never believed.

Yes toodles, & that’s why Tinkerbelle dies.

The Leah parallel is just too much

When Isabelle figures out she’s Tinkerbelle 😥

Ok did everyone hear that distinct change in music tone after Tink says ILY? It was fraught, not happy. Along with Daryl’s expression.

Lasong to Daryl :Isabelle has always had an open mind and heart. You sadly are beyond hope

Daryl’s heart has been closed off and he thinks he’s beyond hope 😭😭😭 but hope is coming to open it!

Hope in the form of a tiny woman from Georgia is on her way to save you. Hope is not lost Daryl, she has a map!

The perfect bookend to this episode was Isabelle’s Douleurs Exquise . It’s a very common French phrase that means the pain of unrequited love. Poor Izzy. Getting silence and no return on that ILY was rough. 🥶

From Ces Douleurs , to Douleurs Exquise

Fin

[thebookofcarol]

GOOD MORNING CAROL AND CARYL NATION!!

iam a sobbing mess after watching the book of carol. what a fantastic beautiful first ep of the season. i instantly fell in love with Ash. not only did he lost his son Avi the exact same way Carol lost Sophia, but he serves Carol dinner with Cherokee roses at the table, reminding her they are a symbol of hope (cue to caryl flashback!).

the flashbacks pay a beautiful homage to Carol's history on the show, and that first connection between Carol and Daryl. Carol will do anything to get to Daryl, but not without guilt, and when she gives Ash a way out of helping her, he tells her "If you're not moving forward then you're dying." that's beautiful.

on the other hand, Daryl still wants to go home, once again, stating he's only staying until they find another boat. and he is constantly reminded of his violent nature ("angels always send their most vicious demon to do their dirty work"), and it feels like staying at the Nest with Laurent and Losang's people is like repressing a part of who he is.

[roryelijah02]

Hey, wondering if you'd like to do a scene analysis for Carol and Daryl's argument in Find Me (10x18)?

When carol says "is it possible she just left?" and daryl says "WHAT" and then Carol says "it's not an accusation", I'm never sure what's happening there. What is the 'accusation'? There are a lot of parallels between leah and carol. And daryl says that he should have been there for leah while carol says she doesn't need a saviour etc. I wondered whether daryl is so sensitive about the idea that leah just left bc that's something carol has done to him which hurt him? Or maybe it means something else.

And there's also when daryl says to carol "you never know when to stop" which parallels carol saying to him during his years in the woods "I don't want to lose you out here because you don't know when to stop".

And when he says "I know where I'm supposed to be" as well as him writing to Leah "I belong with you". What are your thoughts about those things?

I also spotted that after Carol leaves the argument saying that she's going to fix the door, in the closing moment, you can hear her with a hammer presumably fixing the door while Daryl is still looking out the window. To me, this symbolises how she's trying to fix things while Daryl is still looking for what he thinks he needs to find. I haven't heard anyone else talk about the symbolism of this bit, so would love to hear if you have any thoughts?

Would love to hear your general thoughts and opinions about the scene too :)

Ooo, this is such a good ask, thank you! Season 10 Episode 18, Find Me, is such a heart-wrenching episode and I'm so excited to do an analysis for this scene. It's a very difficult scene for a lot of Carol/Caryl fans especially to get through but there's a lot of interesting details to unpick within it so let's get started.

Before I get onto the analysis of the fight scene between Daryl and Carol, I want to mention how previous to this scene happening, it's Carol who finds the note that Daryl initially left for Leah "we belong together - find me" and that's the catalyst for this whole upcoming conversation. It's no coincidence that Carol was actually the person to find the note and as she's now on her way to find him in France, I find this detail very interesting.

Now, onto the analysis. For me, a lot of this scene can be understood by thinking about Daryl's hero/guilt complex, made up of pieces of trauma that he's really struggled with as early as season 3. It started with Merle, then Beth, then Glenn, then Connie and now Leah, whom he has no idea where she is or if she's even alive. This is a big reason why the conversation starts with Daryl saying "I should've been there - I could've helped her" because he feels guilty, for multiple reasons: Daryl began his relationship with Leah during the time when Carol went to marry Ezekiel. Whilst Daryl had given Carol his blessing to marry Ezekiel, it's clear to see how disappointed and sad he is whilst doing it and it was confirmed through Angela Kang's script notes that Daryl was jealous of Ezekiel during this scene but ultimately, Daryl being Daryl and how much he cares about Carol, wants to put her happiness first and if that means giving her his blessing to marry someone else, he's going to do that. Now obviously, the main reason why Daryl was out in the woods during the 6 year time jump in season 9 was to look for Rick, I believe another reason he chooses to stay out in the woods is because he can't bare to see Carol and Ezekiel together every day and this is why he refuses their offers to stay at the Kingdom during the time jump. There are some very noticeable parallels between Carol and Leah. Firstly, there are some parallels of the scenes Daryl shares with Carol during Find Me and those he shares with Leah in the flashbacks of the same episode, one of these being the most noticeable is the fishing scene. Moreover, there are quite a few similarities and parallels between Leah and Carol as people, the most noticeable being that both women have lost a child and consequently decided to isolate themselves in a cabin away from everyone else. The theory is that Daryl, seeing all of these similarities between Leah and Carol, took comfort in Leah who almost put a plaster, if you like, over the hole in Daryl's heart that Carol had left when she went to marry Ezekiel. This is just one of the reasons why Daryl feels guilty because he was never in love with her and Leah knew this because she admits it to Pope in Season 11 Episode 4, Rendition - that's because Daryl's heart was already with somebody else, she'd just temporarily covered the hole in his heart that they'd left. Daryl probably also felt guilty because he didn't give his full commitment to Leah and only decided to go to the cabin to be with her properly once Carol told him that she wouldn't be able to come and visit him at his camp anymore due to her commitments at the Kingdom. I believe this is because Daryl finally realised that he'd lost Carol for good because before, with her continuing to visit him at his camp and even offering to come and stay out in the woods with him, his heart probably still held a little bit of hope in it. The other thing that probably makes Daryl feel guilty is that when he finally did go to the cabin to be with her, she'd already gone and from what we could tell, he didn't spend much time actively looking for her, as he had other people who'd gone missing. I think, with him saying this at the beginning of the conversation, Daryl worries that something could've happened to Leah and he thinks that maybe, if he'd been there when it happened, he could've prevented it or stopped her from getting hurt.

Carol suggests that maybe Leah left of her own accord. I believe that Daryl says "what?!" here because he doesn't want to believe that Leah would've done that after telling him she would wait for him to make a decision about what he wants and where he wants to be. I also believe this is why Carol responds with "it's not an accusation" because she doesn't want Daryl to think she's accusing Leah of just fleeing and abandoning him, especially when neither of them know the full story or what actually happened.

It's moments after this that it becomes clear Carol is, however, fully aware of Daryl's hero/guilt complex and I think she fully believes this is why he's so caught up about Leah as she says "stop thinking that every time you lose someone it's your fault, because of something you've done". This is her gentle way of trying to tell him that if Leah just left or decided she didn't want to be with him any more of her own free will, then that's Leah's choice and Leah's loss - it's not on him.

However, this is where some of Daryl's feelings about everything start to come out and there are deeper meanings under the surface that come with everything he's saying. Carol begins by listing some of the people who she believes Daryl feels like he's had a part to play in or blames himself completely for their dissapearence and/or demise: Leah, Rick and Connie. I believe that Carol in no way, shape or form blames Daryl for what happened to Connie and that she instead fully blames herself. However, knowing him as well as she does, especially as she knows of his hero/guilt complex, I think she thinks there may be even a small part of him that blames himself for Connie. She's very quickly proven wrong though because Daryl turns around and tells her he thinks what happened to Connie is on her and that she never knows when to stop. As previously mentioned, I think Carol already believes she's fully to blame for Connie but I think hearing it coming from the mouth of the person who's closest to her is a bit like a kick in the teeth. Daryl telling Carol she doesn't know when to stop is a parallel to when she told him, in one of the flashbacks during Find Me, that she doesn't want to lose him outside in the woods because he doesn't know when to stop looking for Rick. Therefore, it's like Daryl is pointing out that she told him he needs to learn when to stop but she also needs to learn the same thing. It's also him starting to let out his hurt and frustration about how, no matter what he did or said to her to try and help and comfort her, she wouldn't stop hurting herself and she broke her promise that she would stop trying to hurt herself in Season 10 Episode 9, Squeeze, whilst they were in the cave.

Carol goes on to say that whilst she's sorry for what happened to Connie, she's not sorry for going after the horde and for getting justice for Henry's death. When she says that she was right, I believe she's refering to being right about Alpha and her behaviour and her predictions for how the Whisperer war would go. This upsets Daryl more because to him, her saying that she's not sorry about going after the horde could also mean she's not sorry for the consequences that brought but more importantly to him, she's also not sorry for risking her life in the process, something he desperately tried to prevent for weeks as he was trying to get the message through to her that it would crush him if anything happened to her, but that message kept falling on deaf ears. This is why Daryl turns around and says "and that's all that matters, you being right". To me, this is a callback to Season 10 Episode 8, The World Before, when Daryl tells her "you want her dead so badly, you don't even care what happens to you." Daryl is saying this to her because he's hurt that she's willing to put the people she cares about's lives but most importantly her life on the line just so she could defeat Alpha and prove she was right about the Whisperers, when he believes that she's fully aware what the impact on him would be if she got hurt or worse, died.

It's now that Carol realises that this whole conversation they're having isn't even about Leah, or Connie or anybody else. She realises it's about her. She asks Daryl to tell her what he really wants to say. She asks him to open up to her and be honest with her. Daryl responds with "you shouldn't have come". This is him using a deflection tactic - he doesn't want to say what he really wants to her. I believe this is because of a mixture of him not wanting to open up right now because of how hurt and frustrated he is and him not wanting to snap at her and saying something he'll end up regretting. I also think there's a part of him that regrets starting this conversation and he's a bit mad that they came across the cabin which became the catalyst for the conversation and that's also why he tells her she shouldn't have come.

When Carol says that she wanted to come to help, I believe her. I believe that by the time we get to 10C, especially the latter half of 10C, Carol has realised the consequences of some of her actions earlier in the season and it's clear she's thought a lot about the mistakes she's made and is now ready to start fixing them and building bridges with people. Therefore, I definitely don't think she's lying when she says this. Daryl, however, as the person who knows her the best, knows that there's more to it than just that and that's why he responds with "no, you wanted to run." It's not that he didn't believe what she said but that he knew there was another, maybe bigger reason behind her wanting to come with him. He says he believes she's running from her guilt but I believe another part of the reason why he thinks she's running and why he's upset and worried about is because she's not happy being around Team Family, but more specifically him. He knows he would do anything to make her happy but as she keeps running, that puts doubts in his mind about whether he'll ever be able to make her happy and that hurts him (more on this later).

When he says that she made it his problem, she says his only problem is feeling like he needs to save everybody - another reminder that she's fully aware of his hero/guilt complex, because if there's anybody he can't save, he will never be able to forgive himself for what happens to them. This hurts Daryl though, even more so when Carol says she doesn't need a saviour because if there's anybody he wants to protect and save at anytime, it's her. From the very early days, he's been saving her, protecting her and looking after her just as she's done him and he's enjoyed doing this because he wants to do it for her so hearing her say that she doesn't need that is really hard for him, especially because he couldn't bare to see her in any danger.

When Carol tells him she just needs a friend, Daryl responds with "friends don't have the same conversations over and over again." Again, this feeds into Daryl's frustration about the fact that he was desperately trying to be there for Carol and get through to her and guide her through her grief and all the trauma she was going through, but all his messages were falling on deaf ears. On a deeper note, I also believe part of this frustration, however small, is about how stuck he is in terms of having feelings for Carol but feeling unable to say them aloud to anyone, but especially to her. Daryl has kind of gone in a constant cycle in terms of his feelings for Carol. He thinks he's lost her, realises how short life is - especially during the apocalypse, decides that he'll tell her how he feels and then something or someone gets in the way (I can make a whole separate analysis on the 'cycle of feelings' if you'd like). Consequently, Daryl is now at a stage where he wants to admit it to her so much that it's becoming frustrating for him because he still can't tell her because she's grieving, they've had the Whisperer War to deal with and she keeps trying to run away. The notion that Daryl's messages have been falling on deaf ears is emphasised when Carol says that this type of conversation is new to her and it only frustrates Daryl more, who once again tries to tell her that this is what he's been trying to tell her and help her with all along and because she's not been listening for so long, he's now at a point where he feels like his message will never get through to her.

Carol, evidently annoyed now, tells Daryl that if he'd wanted to prevent all of this from happening, he should've just let her get back on the boat and he confirms that yes, he should've done that - that he stopped her from running and he shouldn't have. A lot of fans are confused as to why Daryl says this but I do believe there's a reason behind it and it's not because he wanted her to go back on the boat. We all saw how hard Daryl tried to get Carol to stay, he even offered her to run away to New Mexico multiple times if she would've be happier doing that. However, things got in the way of them going to New Mexico and Daryl firmly believes that Carol hasn't been the same since she got off the boat, something in which he mentions to Michonne during season 10 episode 3, Ghosts. Therefore, I believe the reason Daryl says that he should've let Carol go back on the boat is because he's come to believe that she would've been happier there. That, like he told Michonne, he believes that she'd found happiness out at sea but he begged her to stay and since then, she hasn't been the same Carol that he's always known. I believe there is a note of guilt from Daryl there because he feels like he's taken away her peace and happiness.

Now comes one of the most difficult lines to hear from Daryl in the whole scene and seeing the hurt on Carol's face as he says these things is heartbreaking but I do understand and have ideas of why he says it. "You wanna run, run. I know where I'm supposed to be. I won't stop you this time." Let's break this down into parts. So firstly, Daryl tells her she should run if she wants to. I believe that this is Daryl putting everythig he's thinking and feeling aside and is willing to let her go, if that's what will be best for her. The reason he says it in the tone he does is because he's already had to let her go once, when she went to marry Ezekiel and that aleeady caused him enough heartache. The thought of losing Carol has always crushed Daryl but as previously mentioned, especially after seeing how happy and at peace it made her to be at sea on the boat, I think he's come to realise that he needs to let her go and be happy, even if that's somewhere else and with someone other than him, even if it breaks his heart - because just like he felt when he gave her his blessing to marry Ezekeil, he is always going to put her happiness first no matter what. That's why he says that if she wants to run, he won't stop her this time because no matter what it will do to him, if it will make her happy to be elsewhere and with other people, that's all that matters to him. When he says he knows where he's supposed to be, I don't think this is about Leah, or about being with Team Family or even being at any of the communities we know about, as a lot of people think. I think that's Daryl's way of saying - "I know you're my person and I know I'm meant to be with you. Now you need to figure out where you're supposed to be and if that's not with me, if it's someplace else or with other people, then I'll let you go, because i want you to be happy." That's what I feel like is hidden underneath the words he says there but he can't say that whole thing aloud because it's crushing his heart just by saying the things he is.

The conversation ends by Carol saying "I was right - our luck's ran out, you and me." This is interesting because Carol saying "I was right" refers back to when she said it during this conversation before and it makes me question whether it was this notion that she meant all along. When she talks about their luck running out, I think she's referring to the fact that they've always been so lucky to have such a close and special bond, but now, it's crumbling apart and if she thought that they had the worst falling out they'd ever had after the cave incident in Squeeze, then she was heavily mistaken, because it has gotten worse and now, it feels like their luck has run out, it feels like their bond is broken and that they've both lost each other. Quite a few fans compared this scene to being like a break up and I can certainly see where they're coming from.

I love what you said about Carol fixing the door at the end and Daryl looking out into the open. I'd never thought about that before. However, it does make sense with how Carol tries to fix and make up for her mistakes in season 11. I think the symbolism for that part would've been more noticeable and stronger if Caryl had had a chance to talk about this argument and build bridges from it in season 11 and I think, for a time, that was the plan, but unfortunately, Melissa then dropped out of the spinoff (for a time) and the main show received its end date before anybody expected so that resulted in a lot of things they wanted to achieve in season 11 not being able to be completed.

Hopefully, in the spinoff, where the focus will be completely on Daryl and Carol, they can have deep, meaningful conversations that they need to have and begin to work through their trauma and build bridges for things that remain unresolved from the flagship show ❤️🤞

[my-mt-heart]

When I think of the Caryl spinoff we were promised, I think of all the space there'd be to explore a new, but hard-earned romance between the two underdogs turned most iconic duo of TWD.

I think of them getting back to their roots, helping each other heal from their trauma, and conquering their fears of not being worthy of each other's love.

I'm tired of sitting through explicit beats of shipbaiting for the sake of marketing Daryl as the most eligible bachelor and riling fans up while Caryl, the relationship that sold me on their chemistry and their one-of-a-kind bond is treated like a dirty secret.

I'm tired of Carol feeling, and being portrayed, as if she isn't good enough or young enough or blonde enough for Daryl and I'm tired of the ageism Melissa has to suffer in order for the show to please an unreliable market that's more likely to watch clips on TikTok then subscribe to the show anyway.

I’m tired of foils and subtext and symbolism being used to say something about Caryl's relationship in a round-about way without ever seeing the payoff.

I don't want a retread of Caryl’s entire story that makes me think...

Canon is coming!

We're almost there!

Just a little bit further!

Maybe the next episode!

Maybe the season finale!

Maybe the series finale!

Absolutely not.

Because I know the difference between telling a longform narrative and stringing me along, manipulating me into thinking I'm getting exactly what I want ...

At least Daryl and plot device #100 didn't get together.

At least Carol doesn't die.

At least Daryl and Carol are finally alone.

At least there's "hope."

...when in reality I'd be getting nothing I want and not even for any creative reasons, but because it isn't good for an EPs brand or his ego or whatever it may be.

There's a lot of hype for Melissa's/Carol's return right now, amplified because of the year-long fear that her fans were never going to see her again, but what's the hook going to be for S3? If AMC wants a large fanbase they can rely on to keep tuning in and to keep growing, they should want all Carylers on board. And to get us all on board, including the ones who left a long time ago, explicit canon that honors both Carol's and Daryl's journeys is a must.

S2 is THE chance to show me—clear as day—how Daryl and Carol really feel about each other. That they are in love. That they are and always have been each other’s only choice and plot devices 1-100 never changed that. That's the Caryl spinoff I'll watch.

*This is my response to a few anons I received over the past week or so. I figured it would be better for my sanity to address them all in one go.

[geostatonary]

A secret symbol left by Caryll, runesmith of Byrgenwerth.

A transcription of "Cheese," as spoken by left-behind Great Ones.

Allows one to make additional discoveries.

Cheeses symbolize the truth Master Willem sought in his research. Disillusioned by the limits of human intellect, Master Willem looked to beings from higher planes for guidance, and sought to line his brain with cheeses in order to elevate his thoughts.

[9lives2mics]

Nine Lives Two Mics (Caryl Podcast) | New Episode

🎙️Episode #41 - Caryl Leftovers🎙️

Join us as we dive into some Caryl Leftovers from #TWD. We discuss some unanswered questions, symbolism, missing scenes, and more. 

Spotify | Youtube 

[youmakethelight]

I'm a slut for spotting/making up symbolism in TWD and one thing I want to point out about DD S1 is the knife Daryl takes from the convent armoury. I kept saying "why has he got Carol's knife" at first bc it's literally the same lol. And I'm not gonna do a rewatch right now bc my heart is weary but at the time I noticed him give it to isabelle at one point and then another time he gave it to laurent to help them protect themselves. In both cases, he always took it back. Idk just wondered whether it's a little Carol nod, like even if I'm letting you go for 5 mins to help protect someone I'm still gonna always come back to you. Idk idk idk

[fareehaandspaniards]

Random Bloodborne headcanons post

(as I need to empty my head)

-Ludwig comes from a warm, southern country, he loves grapes and night walks. He had a predisposition to gain insight from his background, as his homeland had a philosophy close to Isz's (stars and sky are religious symbols). And since Laurence was aware of this, during Ludwig's communion with the Church, he handed him blood mixed with Burgenwerth samples from the Fishing Hamlet (out of curiosity)

-Rom's ascension was her own initiative and the result of research approved by Willem. Unlike Micolash, she conducted all her experiments on herself. As the last experiment she became pregnant and could finally hear the call of the Ebrietas, for she had discovered the subtle and delicate bond of the Kin. Only Willem knew of her intentions to use her own child to communicate with the Great Ones. And Laurence (the child's father), best friend Caryll, Yurie, who was in love with her, and the rest were left unaware

-Logarius felt sympathy for Ludwig, which resulted in a brief (because of the disasters in Yharnam) attachment. Ludwig carried the ideals of chivalry, and it was he who reminded Logarius of a “paragon of kindness”. In fact, Logarius' great quote about good and evil deeds is a paraphrase of Ludwig's words, remembered as the wisdom of the former. Logarius always knew his journey would end in death and bitterness, but would have been broken to learn how Ludwig died - labeled a “monster,” a convert, clinging only to the Light of his Holy Moonlight sword. They both would have preferred to die in battle as humans, by each other's blades.

-After Maria died, Gehrman changed. He was out of his mind for about a month, and Laurence forbade anyone to visit the hunters' workshop. Gehrman's mind left him and the Doll was created. The Doll heard many tears and drunken swearing from its grief-stricken creator. Gehrman spent evenings with the Doll, talked to her as if she were Maria alive, took her under his arm, and was generally insane. However, this obsession had passed, thanks to Laurence. The Doll later became literally alive in Hunter's dream. Poor Gehrman

-Caryll had heard the bell ringing since he was young and seen a face in the window at night. At first he was afraid, but as he grew older, he became interested. As he learned, he saw a Pthumerian woman. One night he disappeared without a trace, leaving behind only a wheelchair and an open window. No one knows where he went, and his corpse has never been found. (I think I wrote down that headcanon already, but I like too much :^))

-Logarius had always despised Rom for her excessive initiative in the affairs of the Church. For her antics, her attempts at leadership, and, above all, her familiarity with the vicar. He suggested to Laurence that he should “show her” where her place is, but was rudely rebuffed. I think to Logarius she would be a “fallen woman”, if only because she actually has a relationship with the vicar but spends all her time with Caryll. And he wouldn't care that their friendship is almost a familial bond, that Caryll is asexual, that they are each other's support and backbone. I think he's too conservative to realize that!

-Blood Saint Adeline is an aristocrat, and her little jabot was always on her. Actually, her family was against the Healing Church in general, but the girl was a rebel by nature, and so she first joined the Church, started helping the doctors, and then gave herself and her blood for transfusion.

-Logarius (Rogeriusz) is the brother of the King of Cainhurst, Annalise's consort. Actually, brother's death to create a child of the Blood, Logarius' contempt for Annalise as a woman, and his adherence to the ideals of “Pure” blood - led him to the Church. My Logarius is a big chauvinist, an unabashed asshole, and a testosterone warehouse! Perhaps the only thing that appealed to his conscience was Ludwig. But that didn't concern his plans for Cainhurst - here Logarius saw his purpose and meaning - to punish and destroy the unrighteous descendants of his lineage

-Maria and Logarius - actually not a bad pairing, I think! Initially, the two experienced sympathy for each other - Maria didn't know why he joined the Church, and he hoped Maria would share his ideals with him. But the more Maria learned about him, the more Logarius frightened her. He didn't know what she'd been through in Fishing Hamlet or what kind of burden she carried, nor did he generally give much thought to such a thing as “trauma.” So he treated her as a young, ambitious girl he knew from his life in Cainhurst. Perhaps their acquaintance would have ended in a duel, had it not been for events that drove them in different directions. Maria to the Research Hall, and him to preparing a raid on the castle.

-Logarius didn't appreciate Byrgenwerth' squad, Caryll, the whole gang of scientists. But he took an interest in Gehrman and hunting. He was always polite to him, respectful, like to an elder

Gehrman and Caryll were good friends! And while the old hunter was still on his feet, he was perfecting Caryll's chair, following the process of carving runes into the wood. The two found common ground easily, and it made Laurence mildly jealous. (To both Gehrman was like a father.)

Edgar grew up in the Church' Orphanage, though he was related to a respected scholar, Yurie .She didn't want to deal with him at first, since she never knew his mother or him, and she also had a job at the Research Hall. But when there was a risk that he might fall under the Church's experiments, Yurie took him. In fact, the boy grew up under her supervision and care, and also with Madlene (my name for Imposter Iosefka), who was dating Yurie. Essentially, he was raised by two women.

-Henriette, Alfred, Edgar and Bloody Crow of Cainhurst - are the youngest characters in the game (Gascoigne's daughters don't count)

-Willem was appointed “Head” of the Choir, but only formally, Laurence just wanted to make it appear that he was still involved in the affairs of the Healing Church. Willem himself was not interested in this, he was busy researching and helping Rom

-Many of the people of Yharnam still honor the old faith that lived here before the Church. The faith that replaced the Great Ones long-long ago, the faith of light and goodness. When Laurence brought it all back, many houses secretly turned against him.

-Damian had a large family. His parents, a merchant father and a puritan mother, died alone in their home on the outskirts of Yharnam. One of Damian's sisters disappeared in Hemwick, an older brother was one of the White Doctors of the Church and was torn apart by a monster, another sister died in a fire in one of the stores in Yharnam where she worked. Younger brother Jiri is buried next to Hemwick, and of all his family, Jiri's grave is the most visited by Damian himself. The family had always held to the old faith and did not approve of the Church that had come, nor did they approve of Damian's involvement with it. If they found out he was a Tomb Prospector, there would probably be a major scandal!

-Rom was the first owner of Augur of Ebrietas! When these babies were found in the catacombs, she was the first to be able to bond with one of them.

-Imposter Iosefka hates Rom because she thinks she's too naive and delicate, but also envies her a little - Rom's research is approved by the vicar himself, she's helped by Caryll, and sometimes Micolash lends a hand. And Madlene does everything on her own. She also has to “save” Yurie from her attachment to Rom in a way, because Yurie has suffered a very painful heartbreak.

-Damian is a bit obsessed with the subject of children! And it's an oddity he's trying to hide. He would operate on himself to change his body and be able to have a child (if he could). But all he can do is secretly pray to Oedon that one day he will have a child, adopted or not

-In Byrgenwerth age Willem often had affairs with female teachers! He is not a bad poet, and therefore sometimes wrote something for the ladies and invited them to a joint evening C:

-Gremia's mother is from the same land as Laurence's mother

Logarius is my personal diva of Yharnam. I swear he would wear high heels and win in "Yharnam's next Top model"

[bookqueenrules]

Daryl’s Pilgrimage: Why Daryl Dixson Season 2's Working Title Was Pilgrim

Most of us know that “Pilgrim” was the working title of DD season 2. I believe they changed it to The Book of Carol to throw yet another bone to Carylers because they will not be getting romantic Carly. No matter what the reason, you can’t escape that Season 2 is about Daryl’s pilgrimage.  We have gotten some CRAZY hints that this pilgrimage is all about finding Beth.

Exhibit A:  Check out the EXACT matching colors between the signage for DD 2 Pilgrim and Emily’s dress in the video for B or C for effort which came out last Fall during the same time DD 2 "Pilgrim" was being filmed.

Meaning of the word pilgrim:

A pilgrim (from the Latin peregrinus) is a traveler (literally one who has come from afar) who is on a journey to a holy place. 

So, what is Daryl’s pilgrimage? It’s his journey to a "holy" place that will make him “hole”. A place that has that “something” he first went out looking for.  A place that will contain his happy ending.

The Latin form of “peregriuns” is used for a another famous hunter, the The peregrine falcon (Falco peregrinus), also known simply as the peregrine. 

Two interesting facts about these birds are that they mate for life and often travel far, usually to a “high place”, to nest. They have been known to even build their nest in skyscrapers.  This bird is similar in coloring to the stuffed penguin Daryl finds on the boat in episode one. 

Exhibit B:  The Camino de Santiago

This is the pilgrimage mentioned in episode 6 of DD season 1.  Here is a little background info on the pilgrimage.

Let’s talk about the Hebrew root of the English name, James:

@angelthefirst1 and @frangipanilove have both done wonderful posts about how Daryl=Jacob/Israel right down to being tied to Leah even though he never loved her. Then, Daryl/Israel had to work another 7 years for his “Rachel” or in Daryl’s case, Beth. Another point here is that Jacob leaves his homeland and journeys a long distance, to his mother's people, and there he finds his love, Rachel. It's on this journey that Jacob has the Jacob's ladder dream and names the spot where his head laid during the dream, Beth-el.

So, you could say that this pilgrimage is the Way of Jacob(Daryl).  The route starts in various points in France as seen above but ends at the Santiago de Compostela where St. James' remains are said to be. 

Compostela means Field of Stars. It comes from the Latin “campus stellae” and is based on the stars of the Milky Way that, according to legend since the Middle Ages, had been outlined by the apostle St. James and followed by pilgrims to reach his tomb.

So,  pilgrims follow these stars from France, across the Pyrenees Mountains to find their way to Santiago de Compostela. This ties in perfectly with the Sirius “Dog Star” symbolism we see throughout TWD. 

Daryl Dixon season 2 is all about Daryl’s pilgrimage.  This spiritual journey will restore Daryl’s faith in God and lead him to his “happy ending” which will be a family with Beth. Just as it was Jacob's children who are the fathers of all of the nation of Israel, I believe it will be Daryl and Beth's children or their descendants who will "save" what is left of humanity.

[shana-silver-fox]

The Moulin Rouge connection…

So we all thought the title of Episode 2 would have Caryl at the club, yet no club at all.

But now that we know about Tinkyl 😐 They heavily leaned into that fairy connection.

In Moulin Rouge the Green Fairy 🧚 is absinthe. Absinthe causes hallucinations, visual impairment, and cognitive impairment. 😳 IzzyTink is literally fucking up Daryl’s head! Like she’s drugged him and Carol will be his detox. The nun is literally a roofie. 😬 which is what it was advertised as back in the day.

More fun

Absinthe comes from the Wormwood flower

Wormwood symbolizes bitterness 😂 it’s the flower of the ABC spite shippers!

[naldthal-thetraders]

Nald'thal's symbol shaped as a Caryll Rune.

tier 1, 2, & 3

[my-mt-heart]

What Makes Caryl's Romance Organic

By organic, I mean it's a natural path for Daryl and Carol to take as characters and their explicit canon is fully supported by the writing in the flagship show.

The seeds have been planted. We got to see the genesis of their bond when Daryl made it his mission to find Carol's lost little girl, and we watched it grow in "real time" as the overarching story progressed. We saw intentional, suggestive beats like Daryl massaging Carol's shoulder on top of the bus, Carol openly flirting as she tried to reclaim her sexuality after Ed, Daryl's jealousy of "the king," the visual and emotional parallels between Carol and Leah, Carol's dream of being married to Daryl, and I could go on.

By watching their interactions with each other over the course of 11 seasons and perhaps also differentiating them from their interactions with other characters, it's easy to assert that these two broken souls relied on each other not just for survival in the ZA, but for emotional fulfillment. Every character wants something, and in this case we were shown time and time again how much Daryl and Carol desire each other, though not just in a superficial way. After surviving abuse and loss and tragedy, they've come to represent each other's light at the end of the tunnel.

Daryl: What do you want?

Carol: A man of honor.

Judith to Daryl [looking at Carol]: You deserve a happy ending too.

Our investment deepened as the relationship deepened, and we could anticipate where it was eventually going to lead if we kept following along, reading the subtext and analyzing the symbols (the Cherokee rose, the jasper stone, the double capper). The longer that anticipation builds, the more essential the payoff becomes.

In contrast, when we have no expectations for a pairing and they go canon "out of the blue," it's quite possible the purpose of it was shock value. Not that the audience can't still get invested, but as we say in the screenwriting world, it hasn't been earned. Instead of building up to a moment of relief and joy (Finally! I knew it!), it often requires a lot of backfilling, finding moments between the two characters that could be used to rationalize the writers' choice and create the illusion that it was always planned when it wasn't. People will either buy it or they won't.

One thing no writer can control is acting chemistry, and McReedus? They've got it. A lot of it. Any good writer would lean into that, not force them to pull back because when they do that and they're undermining the story that's already being told, the audience will feel cheated. Hence, why so many people hated Carol's line "it'll be good for us [to go our separate ways]" in the finale.

The Book of Carol is the opportunity for AMC and co. to deliver on their "promise" to Caryl fans by giving them explicit, undeniable, canon. Again, when you make them wait over a decade, that Finally! moment has to be well worth it.