#daryll the bandit

[coping-via-clint-eastwood]

Azura: Like I said, we need more help.

Rain: Maybe I should call my friends.

Patrick: Your what?

Rain: My friends.

Daryll: Is he saying friends?

Kane: I think he's being sarcastic.

Ciara: No, no, this is delirium. He's cracked from being awake all night.

Stella: Hey, Rain, all of your friends are in this room.

Rain: I have other friends. You asked me to make new friends. It was a task. I complete tasks.

[zombiekooo]

❗️S M U T ! Honestly just filthy. Cunninglings, blowjobs, dominant reader, submissive Daryl, vaginal sex. You name it. Complete NSFW ❗️(also on a03– titled Ride Along)

Rick doesn’t want to risk accepting new people into the prison. Daryl sees no threat in one lone woman.

It was late. Far later for a lady like you to be walking these streets, Daryl thought.

How’d he spot you? He asks himself the same damn thing. You were dressed in a black cloak like some bandit, a bag nearly twice the size of you on your back, and a silver gun in your right hand. Maybe it was the shine the gun gave from the car’s headlight’s that caught his attention. Or maybe it was the glisten of your eyes, peering beneath the hood you wore ever so slightly. It didn’t matter.

All he knew was that there was a woman alone in these woods without an idea that the direction she was heading was straight into the hands of walkers.

“Rick, stop the car.” Daryl says, already unbuckling his belt.

Rick slows down, confused. He hadn’t seen you until Daryl pointed you out— walking the opposite direction from the car and ignoring them completely.

“Daryl, we’re not taking anyone into the prison right now.” Rick replies, picking up speed once again, but Daryl was already out of the car and jogging towards you, leaving Rick with no choice but to stop the car completely.

“Hey, you!”

You pause. He notices the way you clutch your gun, your arm trembling and the way your chest fell unevenly. You turn around apprehensively, eyes wide and scared.

“Hey there, m’not gonna hurt you.” Daryl lowers his crossbow, comfortable with the distance the walkers had from you.

“I don’t have anything valuable,” You reply, a distinct quiver in your voice. “Don’t make me use up my bullets.” You point the gun at him.

Rick got out of the car, which startled you enough to nearly lose grip of the gun. Your eyes dart from one to the other, going through the options you have to escape.

“We ain’t here to collect any of your stuff. Just concerned is all,” Daryl says, lifting his free arm above him. “We want to know if you’re okay.”

“I am fine.” You’re quick to reply.

Rick comes up behind Daryl to get a better look at you.

“She says she’s fine. C’mon now, let’s go.” He says,

“Nah, nah. I ain’t leaving just yet. She looks too young to be round’ here alone.” Daryl takes a couple steps closer, just enough to get a decent look at your face.

You were young, younger than he was for sure, but most likely in your mid twenties. Your wide eyes full of terror made you seemed younger from a distance. Like a bunny about to be scavenged by wolves.

His eyes dart down to your hand that held the silver gun. It’s oozing blood out from the darkness of your cloak, and pooling at your fingertips, sullying the silver gun.

“We’ve got a camp not too far from here. There’s people who’d be happy to look at that wound of yours.” He says, confident in taking another step closer. When he sees that you don’t back away, he takes another.

“And what do you expect out of all this? Is this just the kindness from your heart?” You sneer. You’re having trouble keeping grip of the gun. It has become slippery with your blood.

“You ain’t gotta take the offer, but if I were you, I’d get that injury treated before them walkers begin to smell it.” Daryl shrugs. He’s close enough to be able to take the gun from your hands but, he’s too afraid to make any daring move in case you get spooked.

He sees the fear fan across your face for a split second.

Rick seems to have given up on getting Daryl to think otherwise.

“We got lots of women your age at the camp. They’d be happy to see another kind face.” Rick elaborates.

You step back the moment Rick takes another step. You hesitantly return your gaze to Daryl. You watch how he extends his hand.

“There’s no reason a lady like you should be walking these streets.”

————

You end up in the backseat of the van behind Daryl. You’re still hesitant about leaving with the two men, but you seem to have run out of options. Your arm throbs and you feel fresh blood slither down your forearm. You had broken the lousy stitches you had done with your non-dominant hand when drawing your gun.

“That isn’t a walker bite, is it?” Rick asks from behind the wheel, glancing at you through the mirror.

“No. Got caught on some barbed wire.” You reply vaguely.

Rick hums in response.

“Where were you headed? Down where we came from there was a huge herd of walkers. We had just grazed it when coming back.”

You frown. You had no idea that was such a red zone.

“Nowhere.” You rasp.

Rick decides that it was no use getting anymore information from you, so he turns to Daryl.

Daryl sighs and stretches, turning around the car seat and looks at you.

“How many walkers have ya’ killed? People?”

You eye him carefully, but you trust him more than the other, considering that he was the one who insisted on helping you in the first place.

“I haven’t killed many. Maybe two dozen of what you call ‘walkers’. I’m not good with a gun, only killed when I had too.” You say.

Daryl nods, looking back at Rick for guidance. You see him nod and persuade him to continue.

“What bout’ people?”

Daryl sees you hesitate for a moment. Closing your mouth, opening it, then shutting it again.

“I only killed someone before they could turn.” You say, quieter than before.

Daryl nods and turns back around, slouching in his seat.

“Seems pretty harmless to me.” He says to Rick.

Rick says nothing, only giving you one last glance through the mirror before turning his attention to the road.

————

Daryl walks you to his cell before introducing you to the group. He attempts to take your bag from your shoulders to set it next his belongings, but it has you instinctively yanking it back.

“Sorry,” You mumble under your breath, a bit frazzled from trying to adapt to people who aren’t dead.

Daryl nods, giving a sympathetic look. He gestures to the empty space next to the bed for you to place your bag.

“For now, Rick says he wants an eye on you. An’ since I was the one insistin we bring you, M’left with the responsibility.” He says, a lighthearted smirk peeking through the light dusting of hair on his face. But it quickly dissipates when the gears in his brain start shifting.

“Unless, y’know, you’d feel more comfortable with a lady friend—“

“No, please. I’d like you to stay.”

Daryl pauses. He’s leaning against the open cell door, his hand curled into a fist. He still has his crossbow with him, seated on his back. He holds himself steady as if the crossbow weighed nothing to him. He seems a bit taken aback by your quick response.

You drop your bag, placing your knives and guns onto the table beside the bed, glancing at Daryl, and sliding them towards him.

“If I am being completely honest, I haven’t been around people for a few months.” You sit on the bed, glancing at the few shirts draped over the side of the bed. It’s his cell, you realize. “I’d like to stay with you for awhile, if you don’t mind.”

Daryl rubs the back of his neck. The way you said that made his heart skip a beat. He glances over your face, no longer covered by the cape. You were attractive and well spoken. Probably from a family that took good care of themselves— educated. Unlike him. He hadn’t had a clue why you felt comfortable with him. If he was in your shoes, he’d prolly be sceptical of himself, bringing a girl alone in his cell.

“M’fine with that. Rick said I hadda ask you a few questions anyways.” He says. He’s overly aware by the new scent of you mingling in his room. He becomes too conscious about the way he smells. Dirty. Like an animal. You probably think he looks like one too.

“I understand. I assume your leader wants my weapons. I don’t have much.” You shrug, and unclasp your cape. Daryl’s gaze flickers to your arm, the bleeding has slowed, but it needed medical attention. Earlier, you had insisted to rest before heading over to get it looked at.

“Alright then. What’s ya’ name? What’s ya’ life story?” He asks, deciding to ignore your wound for now.

You’re quiet for a moment, collecting your thoughts.

“Reader. I was raised a lone child. Parents worked in the E.R, so when shit hit the fan, they were contaminated quickly. I was 21 when it happened—never was taught how to use a gun or weapons, so I got lucky and survived by finding a group.” You stop, hesitating your eyes flickering up at his face then back to your hands.

“They were all young though, made reckless decisions. Didn’t last long. Soon it went from a dozen people, to just me.” You finish, purposely vague.

Daryl nods. You talk as if you’re weak, but to be surviving this long in an apocalypse took more than just a strong group.

“That’s pretty shitty.” Daryl says,

“Yeah, suppose so. Haven’t really been able to survive without relying on others.” You half laugh half scoff.

“You can’t survive without relying on others.” Daryl points out.

You nod. “Sort of just rode along. Grabbed onto anyone I could. Until I met a group that took advantage of my uselessness.” You don’t elaborate on that, but Daryl thinks he has an idea of what that means.

Daryl doesn’t know how to comfort you, so he just mumbles a ‘sorry to hear that’ beneath his breath.

When you don’t say anymore, he decides it’s his turn to speak.

“I think you’ll fit fine in this place. I’m Daryl, the guy you met earlier is Rick. He’s the leader of the group. Had us survive this long so I reckon you’ll like him.” He says.

You smile at his attempt of hospitality. You could tell he wasn’t one to talk much, so it relaxed you knowing his intentions were genuine.

“Thank you, Daryl. You’re a kind man.”

Daryl has many words to describe him. But kind wasn’t on the list. At least, not that he knew of. It shocked him. More so than he would like to believe.

He swallows, replying with a short nod. He ignores your thanks and leaves the cell with a warning that Rick will come along to collect your weapons later tonight.

—

When he visits the cell at midnight to do his night watch over you, he could barely recognize the woman that had once been dressed in complete black.

You cleaned up yourself during the time he was gone. Rick must’ve brought over Carol to fix up your arm since it no longer bleeds freely. You have your hair out of your face, the dirt on your skin has been washed off, and the thick cloak you wore no longer droops over your frame. Instead, his shirt is on you, paired with slacks Carol must’ve given you.

In most cases, he would be pissed. Having someone use his stuff without permission, but instead, his thoughts were directed whether or not it smelled.

You feel a presence loom over you, so you look up from the book you read, and spot Daryl staring at you through the bars.

“Hey, I was wondering when you would come back.” You say, your eyes smiling the moment you land your gaze on him.

Daryl sputters for a moment, recollecting his thoughts.

“Yeah, m’sorry. Had to help Rick take out few of the walkers outside the prison.” He says. He must’ve been staring at his shirt you wear, because you look down at your sleeve, then back up at him.

“Carol said I could borrow one of your shirts since there isn’t any spares that fit me. Sorry if I crossed the line—“

“Nah, nah. It’s fine. Yer’ my responsibility anyways.” He says. He opens the cell door and steps inside.

You snort at his response. You watch him cross the room and shimmy off his jacket, hanging it over the railing of the top bunk.

Once he’s done, and his gaze is back to you, a silence thrums between the two of you.

The shirt you wore looked breathtaking on you. He didn’t mean to make the room awkward, he really didn’t. But, it had been too long since he’s seen a woman dressed in his clothes. His intention was never meant to pick you up because you were pretty— he just couldn’t stand the thought of someone as lost as you alone during these times.

He wasn’t a kind person, he tells himself. He has killed many. Hurt dozens. If only you knew the kind of person he saw himself as— the type of person he really is. He didn’t want you thinking he was some hero just because he decided to bring you into the prison.

“What’s bothering you?”

He blinks.

“What?”

“You’re thinking about something that’s bothering you. What is it?”

He’s at a loss of words. He makes no move to step away from you, even though he knows he should. You are probably anxious to have a man loom over you like this on his own bed.

“Nothin’. Just, hadn’t seen a new face for awhile is all. Wanted to take a good look atcha’” He sniffs, looking away.

The last thing he would have expect was your touch. He wasn’t prepared— he jumps at the contact. Your hand is resting on his cheek, cradling him carefully like he would jump away if you touched him too hard. Your thumb smooths over the planes of his cheeks, and feeling the roughness of his beard underneath your palm.

You look at him with stern eyes, knowing he isn’t telling the full truth. Touch always reveals a bit of truth in the eyes, you’ve learnt.

“Will you stay?” You ask.

He looks at you dumbly.

“What?” He says, frowning.

“Will you stay in here tonight?” You explain, lifting your hand away from his face. He’s surprised to miss the warmth of your palm on his cheek.

“Where else would I be? I ain’t sleepin’ out on a chair outside the cell for some woman.” He scoffs, half-jokingly. “You got nough’ luxury sleepin’ in my bed.”

“I’m glad,” You chuckle.

“Why? Plannin’ on killing me in my sleep? Tough luck, girl. Not that easy to kill.”

“Who knows?” You hum, pouting your lips.

He flicks your forehead. “Stupid girl. If you were goin’ to kill me, you would’ve taken the safety off your gun when I first found ya’.”

You blush at that.

“Was it really?”

“Damn right it was. Had me questioning your wits and whether or not you’d be too stupid for yer’ own good and put us all in danger.”

You frown, which he chuckles at— flicking your forehead for the second time.

“But here you are sleeping in the same cell.” You shoot back, rubbing away the sting from your forehead.

“Yeah well, I’m confident enough that I can take ya’.” He drops his crossbow, shoving it to the corner of the cell room along with his boots.

“Consider yerself lucky getting the better half of the bunk.” He adds as he pulls himself up onto the top bunk, the metal rods that support it creak and groan as he settles up there.

“Is that right?” You roll your eyes, and dip under the blankets, pulling them up to your chin. They smell like him— like what you imagine the forest smells like without the smell of the dead.

“Mhm.” Is all he replies with.

A comfortable silence follows for a few minutes. You start to wonder if he had fallen asleep, but you decide nobody could doze off in such a short span of time.

“What did you work as before all of this happened?” You ask, half expecting there to be no answer.

Daryl groans, and you hear the bed creak as he shuffles around.

“A drifter.”

“How about your family?”

“How bout’ you stop asking shitty questions and go to sleep, dammit.” He scoffs.

“You did say I was your responsibility. At least give me an idea of what kind of person you are.” You scoff back.

“Yer’ typical asshole redneck. Now shut up.”

You fall silent for a few seconds. Daryl finally thinks that you may be falling asleep.

“Least’ wish me a goodnight…” You huff.

“For fucks’ sake woman! Goodnight.” He bangs the side of the metal rod stabilizing the bed. Despite his tone, he can’t help but smile.

—

A couple of days pass by fairly quickly. You’re introduced to the people inside the prison. Daryl had seen your hesitance around them. He can understand that— it’s probably been a long time since you’ve been able to trust those around you. So, when you decided to stick by his side for most of the days, he never shooed you away. He felt good knowing he gave you some sort of security.

He began bringing you on hunting sprees for food when he was confident enough that there weren’t many walkers around. He taught you small things about tracking and different calls birds would make. Make you strip the squirrel of it’s guts, and hack the fur off the skin.

He liked your eagerness to learn. Despite the faces you’d make and the questionable looks you gave him when he told you it was your turn to gut their catch, he enjoyed your company unlike any other person he’s been around.

It hadn’t been until a week passed, and a routine quickly fell in place that he began questioning your relationship with him. Each night you’d take night watch with him for a few hours until you both returned to your cell to sleep. There would be a bicker between the two of you, (mainly of Daryl to tell you to “shut the fuck up and stop asking shitty questions”) until one of you passed out.

He wasn’t one for emotions or relationships. So when he caught himself with lingering eyes on you, or a thumping heart whenever you smiled at him, it bothered him. It bothered him a lot. You were young. Hell of a lot younger than he was, and he hated himself just a tiny bit more each time he imagines your touch on him like you did the night he first brought you into his cell.

Today was no different.

You have stuck by him for most of the day. Currently, he is taking the time to teach you basic protocols with a knife and gun. His rough hands on top of yours, manipulating your fingers around the gun’s hilt to hold it properly.

God has it been too long since he’s ever been so close to a woman. He never was quite popular with the women in his hometown, never fooled around much. So maybe that’s why his heart thunders beneath his chest right now when he catches a whiff of your scent.

When you look up at him with that excited gleam when you do something right on your own— like loading a gun properly. It makes his heart bloom. It angers him. It was so out of character for him to have this kind of affection towards someone.

He learnt that you’re naturally a cautious person. You make calculated decisions. You project your feelings a bit too much on others. You mentioned earlier on a hunting spree that you first believed the walkers felt lost and had come to you for help. You soon realized how ridiculous that sounded, but it had only made him realize how kind of a person you are.

Unlike he was.

He was afraid. Maybe a bit regretful even. He knows that he will mess this up one way or another. You were young, naive, pretty. Why did he even feel the need to teach you how to hold a gun, or use a knife? That wasn’t who he was. He wasn’t a kind person. He didn’t do things out of the kindness of his heart.

Maybe he did have ambiguous intentions— he starts to question himself.

“What’s bothering you?” You say, tapping his hand. He had gotten distracted, nearly forgot he was supposed to be teaching you how to shoot a gun.

He frowns at you, you’re looking up at him with those perceptive eyes of yours. How did you always know when he was troubled?

“What’s it to ya’, girl?” Daryl scoffs, and backs away from you. He’s all too aware of the cold air hitting his palms that had once been warmed by your hands.

You lower your gun and furrow your brows. He was acting strange. Or maybe you were just thinking too much into things like you always seem to do.

“You go quiet when you’re thinking about something that troubles you.” You explain, walking up to him to close the distance he had put between the two of you.

“M’ always quiet.” He shrugs. “Stop carin’ so much.” He takes another step back, and picks up the crossbow he left on the ground, swinging it over his shoulder.

You don’t make a move to close the distance between the two of you again.

“M’goin on a scouting trip with Rick to get more supplies.” He decides suddenly.

You’re caught off guard for a moment. He never was one to simply ditch a practice.

“I could come, I know these parts quite well—“

“No.” Daryl says a bit too harshly than he would’ve liked.

You huff.

“If you’re worried about me getting hurt, I’ve taken care of myself long before you came along, so—“

“We ain’t bringin’ a woman who’d just get in our way.” He spits. “Like you said, you jus’ rely on others. You’d get us killed.” He pauses, mumbling the last part of his sentence. “Prolly how the first group you’d been in died.”

He watches the shock contort the smile you had worn just seconds ago. He doesn’t know why he said that, or why he feels so angry all of a sudden. He ignores the hurt that struck his chest the moment he saw your smile fade.

You don’t say anything. You look hurt and confused. He knew it. He knew he’d fuck up. Maybe it was a good thing. Maybe this would stop him from thinking about what he desired deep down, to stop his true intentions from forming.

He doesn’t wait for your reaction. He just scoffs, and walks away. Leaving you alone in the middle of the prison field.

—

A few days pass. You and Daryl haven’t spoken. You would be lying if what he said didn’t hurt, but in a way, he was right. But still, you would’ve been happy to pretend it never even happened.

That night after the argument you had with Daryl, he never showed up to night watch, or his cell. You were scared that something may have happened on his trip, but the next morning you see him roasting squirrels on the fire. When he heard your footsteps, he had looked up, but never acknowledged you.

“You went hunting without me?” You pout, trying to break the awkwardness between you.

He only grunts in response, which wasn’t unusual from Daryl. He was a quiet man, but he was usually a lot more responsive around you.

“We could probably made a nice stew with these big fella’s. Carol was telling me about the tomatoes she grew.” You hum, remembering the adoring smile on her face when she told you. She was the only other person you talked to regularly other than Daryl.

You reach to grab a stick that the squirrel is pierced on to turn it, but a hand slaps you away.

“Ain’t for you, get yer’ own grub.” Daryl spits. He still doesn’t look you in the eye.

You’re shocked. You hold you hand close to your chest. It stung from the slap, but it was nothing compared to how your heart clenched. You blink a couple of times in disbelief.

“What?” You say stupidly.

“I said get yer’ own damn food. I ain’t yer’ provider. Maybe try and do somethin’ on your own for a change. You follow me like some dumb lost puppy and I’m sick of it.” He yells.

He makes the mistake of looking up at you.

You’re looking down at your hand, smoothing your thumb over the place he slapped you— comforting the sting. He sees the start of tears collect at your waterline, but you make an effort not to let them spill over.

You swallow thickly, nodding with a tight lipped smile while still looking at your hand.

He knows he should apologize. His heart aches seeing your lost look on your face. This isn’t what he wanted, he didn’t want to hurt you. He curses at himself in his head, his hands cramping up from clenching too hard.

He doesn’t know where to start. How to explain himself— explain how he’s feeling. So he says nothing, and looks down at his feet.

You clear your throat and stand up. He watches you take the knife he had left next to his crossbow, but he continues to stay silent. He’s silent when you walk off. Doesn’t make a move to catch up with you and tell you he’s sorry. He just continues to watch you walk towards the prison with the knife in hand until you disappear inside.

Once you’re gone, only then does he bury his face in his hands, wishing that he could take what he said all back.

—

Daryl walks into the prison, searching for your cloak to bring to you for the night watch. It was cold out, and he knew how reluctant you were to ever wear more than your long sleeve, saying some shit about how “it builds your immune system.”

He plans to apologize to you. Try his best to explain his feelings. Maybe you could just look into his eyes like you always do, and understand what is bothering him. Tell him what is bothering him, because, frankly, he doesn’t know himself.

He enters the empty cell, looking into your bag for your cloak. He does his best not to invade your privacy, but when he doesn’t find it, he empties the bag entirely.

Your personal gun and cloak is gone, which was unusual. A thread of fear begins to knit its way in his chest.

He stomps out of the cell, and into the main room of the prison where he spots Carol.

“Did you see Reader anywhere?” Daryl asks, more desperately than he would’ve liked.

Carol gives him an odd look and shakes her head.

“I assumed she was with you. Last time I saw her she came in here to grab her gun around this morning, thought you two were going on one of your hunting sprees.”

His heart drops. There was no way you took him seriously. You were a smart girl, you were cautious, made careful decisions— you wouldn’t do something as reckless as leave the prison without him.

His breathing becomes uneven— he’s panicking, he realizes.

He doesn’t say anything else, he just sprints out of the prison without a second thought.

He passes by Rick who shouts at him, but he can’t make out what he’s saying. He doesn’t try to. All his thoughts are revolving around whether or not you’re okay.

He runs the direction of the forest where he usually hunts, where he has taken you to for nearly two weeks now. Taught you. Trained you. And adored your attention and company the entire time he did it.

You would’ve gone there, that’s where you’re most familiar with.

And he’s right.

He slows down, a few metres from the entrance of the forest. A figure emerges from the forest, walking towards him, a hood covering the face. But he knows, he knows it’s you and not some walker.

A walker wouldn’t be holding three squirrels by the tail. His girl wouldn’t have left that forest without a meal in her hands.

He sees your eyes peek from under your hood, an exhausted smile on your face. You hold up the squirrels above your head for him to see. Your eyes shine the same way they do when you’re looking for that praise he gives you when you do well.

His heart hurts seeing your smile. Like you had to prove something to him, that you weren’t weak. That you were nothing like he said you were.

“You fuckin’ shitty woman.” He says with no venom in his tone. He jogs up to you and embraces you tightly, thankful for the darkness to hide the tears of relief collecting in his eyes.

You cry out when he does, startling him and backing away. You're reaching for your arm, the one you injured when he had first met you.

“I think I tore the stitches.” You grunt, stumbling a bit. Daryl holds you tight and stabilizes your footing. Your hood has fallen back, and only then can he see the blood smeared across your face.

“Shit, what were you thinkin’ He says, wiping the blood off your face with his thumb.

You shake your head, trying to dismiss his worry.

“Gotta get back before the walkers smell it, right? That’s what you said.” You chuckle.

He nods, remembering when he said that those weeks ago. He crouches down and picks you up effortlessly. You gasp at his strength but he quickly ruins the way you romanticize it by commenting on something stupid.

“Fuck yer heavy, girl.”

You don’t know what you were expecting, really.

He carries you back to the prison, ignoring the concerned glances of Rick and Carol. You wave them off with a smile, but you don’t think that’s what drove them away, because when you look up at Daryl’s face, he’s glaring at the both of them— silently saying “leave us alone.”

He enters his cell, shutting the curtain to give some sense of privacy, and gently rests you on the old, single chair in front of the equally as old desk. He kneels on one leg, taking the squirrels from your hand, and stripping you of your cloak.

He doesn’t think before he begins to unbutton your shirt, all his thoughts are directed to whether or not your hurt underneath your sleeve. But he stops when he feels you tense under his fingers.

Shit, what was he thinking?

“M’sorry, uh, I should prolly fetch Carol—“ He stammers over himself.

He tries to retract his hand, but you catch it and place it back onto your chest, just above your breasts. You’re looking down at him, your chest heaving. You look so tired. There’s blood staining your teeth, dirt above your brow. But, he would be lying to himself if he said that you didn’t look sexy looking down at him like that.

“I don’t want Carol.” You say, furrowing your brows at him.

He feels dirty. He shouldn’t be allowed to see you, to touch you so intimately.

“Daryl.” You say, sensing his hesitance. He looks up, realizing that he was staring at his hands instead of you.

“For fucks sake just take off my bloody shirt.”

His eyes flicker to your lips spreading to accommodate your smile. Your beautiful smile despite being sullied with blood. He swallows when he watches your tongue dart to your lips, licking the blood that had spilled from your torn lip.

He nods, pushing away the fear and returning his work on your shirt. He slips each button out of their hole and slides it off gently by your shoulders, careful not to disturb any other injuries you may have gotten.

He tries his best not to look at your black laced bra. Tries not to flicker his eyes down to your breasts protruding from them, avoiding the beauty marks scattered amongst your skin. Instead, he forces himself to look at your wound.

It wasn’t bleeding. He releases a deep breath, relieved that the stitches hadn’t been broken after so many days of healing. You must’ve hit it though, since there’s a bruise that begins forming under his touch.

“What did yer do? Stupid girl.” He says, gnawing on his lip. He doesn’t look at you in the eye, too ashamed of his stupid mistake. He peels your sleeve down more, and spots a few scrapes down your forearm. He wipes away the blood seeping out from them— it’s not a lot, but it’s hard for him to look at knowing it’s because of him.

He feels defeated. Tired. You must have seen it on his face because you comb your fingers through his hair, which startles him. You watch how his shoulders jump at the contact, but he eventually compels himself to relax.

“Did what you told me to do. I went into the forest too far, and got lost tracking a couple of squirrels. I fell when a walker popped out at me from nowhere, but I’m fine. Your tracking skills helped me get back— even if it took me this long.” You say.

Daryl shuts his eyes closed listening to you. He starts sinking down onto the floor, and he puts his head in your lap, hugging your hips with his arms. He breathes in your scent, masked by dirt and blood, but even then, it’s still so distinctively you.

He squeezes you tight, making sure he’s not dreaming. That you’re with him, that he’s in your lap. That your touch is real.

“M’ so sorry. M’ a fuckin’ idiot. I thought that— thought that if I were to’be an ass and keep away from yer, that I wouldn’t have these terrible thoughts.”

You’re quiet, silently playing with his hair. Twisting it in your fingers, and causing chills to slither down his neck. He sighs at your touch. He never knew how good it felt to be touched so simply.

“What were your thoughts?” You whisper. One hand slides down the back of his neck, feeling where his neck meets his back muscles. Subconsciously, his grip tightens around your hips, silently begging you not to pull away.

“I- I don’t, can’t—“ He curses at himself. He’s stuttering like some pussy, overwhelmed by all of you. Your touch. Your smell. Your voice. When did he become so soft? He wishes that you could read his mind, tell him what he’s feeling, why he’s feeling this way towards you.

“M’not good at, y’know, feelin’s n shit.” He decides, hoping that you can understand.

And you do. Of course you do.

“I’m listening, take your time.” You say. Your hand that was on his back trails up to his cheek. He’s resting one side of his head on your lap, so you see how his eyelashes flutter at the soft touch. He’s unaware that you can see his lips part in a sigh.

“I neva’ wanted to make yer think I took you into the prison jus’ cuz’ you were alone and, y’know, a young pretty lady. I never had other intentions other than helpin’ someone.” He begins, often tripping over himself to find the right words. But you don’t interrupt him, you just continue to comfort him with your soft touches.

“But m’not a kind person like you. I neva’ did things out of the kindness of m’heart. So, I began wonderin’ if I actually did have secret intentions, and it fucked m’up an I got angry at m’self.” He breathes in a shaky breath and swallows down his nerves. “I couldn’t stop thinkin’ bout’ your touches, and how fuckin pretty you are. An’ I jus felt like a pervert. So I took m’ anger out on you, thinkin’ if I did, it’d stop all them stupid thoughts.”

You hum, long and deep. He can feel it vibrate his cheek, and he feels comfort knowing that you’re listening and not pushing him away in disgust.

“What if I said I have the same sort of thoughts about you?” You say.

You feel his shoulders tense and his fingers dig into your hips without knowing. He’s completely taken aback by what you said.

“Don’t say stupid shit. Yer’ jus a kid.” He scoffs, trying not to let your words get him too hopeful.

“I’m 22, Daryl. I may be half your age, but I’m still an adult.” You say as you smooth his hair away from his face.

He grimaces.

“Don’t.”

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t do that.”

You slither your hand under his shirt, tracing circles over his shoulder blades.

“I don’t understand what you mean, Daryl.” You whisper his name in breathier tone which has him visibly gritting his teeth.

“Yer way younger than me…” He argues weakly, shuddering when you dance your fingertips from the middle of his shoulders, all the way up his neck. He can feel himself begin to strain against his jeans.

“Yet I’m still a consenting adult, aren’t I? Don’t patronize me with your shit.” You huff.

“With some redneck like me?” He scoffs in disbelief.

“Mmm.” You agree which makes him chuckle lowly.

“Besides…” You say, urging him to lift his head from your lap. He does, and he looks at you. He has a light dusting of blush on his cheeks which was rare to see. It makes your heart flutter.

You lift your legs over Daryl’s broad shoulders. One of your hands grip onto his hair, pulling him closer to you.

He’s speechless. Your thighs are soft and warm against his cheeks, and your ankles rest where your hands hand been— right between his shoulder blades. A warm sensation builds in his abdomen. He shuffles, feeling the tightness in his jeans continue to grow.

“You have some apologizing to do don’t you?”

His mouth goes dry. You couldn’t be serious, could you? With him? His eyes dart from your face, to your exposed chest, then between your spread legs. With hesitance, he bring his hand on top of your thigh that rests on his shoulder. He looks back up to you for guidance.

“What.. whatd’ya mean?” He licks his lips, causing you to smirk. He knew what you meant, he was just too afraid of being wrong.

“Figure it out.” You urge his head forward and squeeze your thighs around his head once.

He looks at you a second longer. Searching your eyes for anything saying that this isn’t what you actually wanted. But all he finds is an almost desperate look of hunger. He feels your fingers tighten around his hair impatiently, pushing him closer to your clothed cunt.

He swallows down his nerves, and runs his hands down your thighs until he reaches the hem of your pants. He takes a nervous glance up to see your reaction, and he’s pleased to see a blush paint your cheeks.

Hooking his thumbs on each side of your pants, he pulls them down slowly, revealing your underwear. He takes note of a damp spot on the fabric, feeling a bit more confident seeing your arousal seep through.

With a new boost of confidence, Daryl pulls your pants down to your knee, revealing your thighs and begins leaving gentle kisses between then. You feel the scratch of his facial hair and it makes you release a shuddering breath.

“Good.. that’s good.” You praise quietly, rewarding him by pushing his hair away from his face. You don’t know it, but Daryl’s heart flutters at your praise, and he continues kissing further until he reaches your clothed cunt.

He spreads your legs a bit more, allowing himself access to your core. He breathes in your scent, and it nearly makes him dizzy with arousal. It’s been too long.

With a final glance to your flushed face, he begins peeling away your panties.

With two fingers, he spreads your folds open, presenting all of yourself to him. You’re glistening and soaked to the touch. He mutters a ‘fuck’ under his breath before diving in.

You throw your head back, your hand quickly shooting up to your mouth to smother your moan. You find purchase in his hair to stabilize yourself and hands help keep your hips from canting up into his mouth.

Your lower stomach is showered in a warm, bubbling sensation. Just the first lick he gives to your clit has your legs trembling and your breath stuttering. His facial hair is rough and drags between your thighs, adding a tingling sensation to the heat building inside you.

His tongue begins at your entrance, and licks all the way up to your clit, moaning at the taste. He craves more of you, and starts lapping at your clit, swirling his tongue around the bud before sucking it in entirely. The sensation has your back arching off the chair, forcing Daryl to hold you down as he continues eating you out.

“Oh! It’s so good. Feels so good.” You crumble under his touch, crying out from behind your hand.

Daryl moans again into your clit, sending vibrations up your body that make your legs close onto his head, squeezing him with the meat of your thighs.

Daryl takes your legs into his hands, not once leaving your cunt, and he stands, crouching over you. He holds your ankle of one leg down, and keeps another on his shoulder. You’re bent almost in half in the new position he manhandled you in, but the new position gives him a clear view of your entrance.

Letting go of your ankle, he lets your leg drop, his one hand still keeping your leg still on his shoulder. He rubs a finger around your entrance, listening to your breath hitch and shudder. He slips it in with ease, curling it up and rubbing in long strokes against your g-spot.

“Daryl…” You drop the hand that covered your mouth and put both hands on his forearm, unsure whether you were trying to pull it away or bring him closer.

Spurred on by the sound of his name falling from your lips, he slipped in a second finger. Obscene squelching sounds carried through the room each time his fingers pounded in and out of you.

You were so close, but you couldn’t let it end here.

You push his head away from your cunt. His face is dripping with your juices, his tongue laps up the remainder of it on his lips and he tries to dip back down between your legs, eager to taste more of you, but you stop him.

“Whas’ the matter?” He says, his voice raspy and deep. His expression flickered from lust-filled to concerned in a matter of seconds. “Did I—“

“I was close.” You manage to say despite trying to catch your breath.

He relaxes knowing it wasn’t anything that he did. He scoffs and tries again to delve back into the heat of your thighs but you stop him for the second time.

“C’mon, yer’ close, weren’t ya’?” He says, nipping at your inner thigh which makes you jump.

He looked so enticing. His cheeks flushed, eyes narrowed and hungry, his tongue darting out to taste the remainder of you on his lips. It was almost too much.

“I… I wanna do the same to you.” You say, now your turn to be shy.

You watch how he sucks in a breath and you feel the way his hand squeezes your thigh.

“You… you ain’t gotta.” He says as he drops your leg from his shoulder.

“I want to, please.” You insist. You reach around your back and unclasp your bra, letting it fall and reveal your breasts to him.

His eyes instantly dart down to your freed breasts.

He doesn’t say anything, just gives you a nod and backs away to sit on the bed with his legs widespread.

It’s your turn to kneel beneath him between his legs. You lift the hem of his shirt up, kissing the warm skin of his navel. He has a dark happy trail leading down his groin. You breathe in his musky scent there, and look up at him with wide eyes.

He takes the hem of his shirt and takes it off for you to have better access. His hands then return to the edge of the bed, fiddling with the covers nervously as his eyes rake over your body.

You do the same to his.

You knew he was strong. You always had an amazing view of his biceps whenever he would chop wood for the fire, or lift his crossbow to shoot a walker. But up close, seeing his upper body completely bare made you realize how strong he really was.

Daryl became a bit antsy, unsure where to look. Your stare made him feel strange. He wasn’t used to being watched so intensely.

“Stop starin’ girl.” He flicks your forehead, making you jump back.

You pout up at him, rubbing the spot he flicked to soothe the sting. You mumble a “prick” under your breath which makes him rumble a deep chuckle. It has you squeezing your thighs together in anticipation.

You undo his jeans and yank his underwear down. His cock springs free and hits your cheek. The visual of his hard cock on your face has his cock pulsating on your cheek.

He doesn’t know what to do with his hands. He can’t take his eyes off you. You look stunning under him like this, kneeling before him and worshiping his cock.

You take him into one hand and you bring the other down to his balls, rolling them in your palm as you lower your head and take the head of his uncut cock into your mouth. You’re fascinated by the way his jaw drops open, and how the muscles in his abdomen flex and flutter from pleasure.

You dip your tongue under his foreskin, massaging every part of him you can reach with your tongue. You then pull back and suckle the tip, holding eye contact with him as you do. The saltiness of his precum coats your tongue, and it has you humming, sending vibrations down the shaft of his cock.

“Shit,” Daryl moans, stooping over your head. He can’t seem to restrain himself. His hand drops down to your chest, fondling and massaging your breasts. His other hand rests at the back of your head, not daring to push you past your limits. You’re grateful for that and reward his actions by pushing him deeper into your mouth.

The muskiness of his sex has you seeing stars. It was all so arousing. His hands on you, his rough moans and heavy breathing, his quiet praise whenever you would suck him deeper into your tight heat.

You drop one hand from his balls and run it up his side, feeling the firm muscle twitch under your touch. You caress his sides, then over top of his abdomen that ripple with strong muscle. You reach his chest, and you feel his heartbeat pound fast against his rib cage.

“Shit, darlin’ m’close.” He warns, and threads his fingers into your hair, yanking you off of his cock.

You suck in a breath and lick off the mix of precum and saliva on your lips. You swallow, wiping your face on your shoulder and looking up at him expectantly.

“Dammit girl’ don’ look at me like that.” He hisses, helping you wipe off a smudge of spit on your cheek.

You smile up at him and crawl into his lap. You slither a hand around his shoulders and up to his neck, grabbing at the long strands of hair. Your breaths hover over each other’s lips, sharing the air between you.

Daryl looks conflicted. His eyes dart from your lips, then back to your gaze. He wants to kiss you, but he feels that may be too intimate.

“Do you want to kiss me, Daryl?” You ask, trailing a finger over his brow, noticing a small scar on his forehead. You trace it with your finger adoringly.

He’s too afraid to speak, knowing that his voice will most likely crack, or his pounding heart will make his words stutter. So he nods shyly instead.

You smile.

“Go ahead then.”

With hesitance, he cups your cheek in his big, calloused hand. You watches how you lean into it encouragingly.

He leans in and takes what he wants. He kisses you shyly at first, but then turns greedy once you kiss back. He slides an arm around your waist, pushing you impossibly closer to his body.

He tastes the faint remainder of your blood on your lips, a reminder of what hedid to you. It makes him angry, but he pushes down the feeling by kissing your harder, shoving his tongue into your mouth.

You moan into his mouth which he swallows. Without breaking the kiss, he lays you down onto his bed— the one you’ve stolen from him, and hovers above your body, caging you with his frame.

Your nails scrap down his back which earns a low growl from the back of his throat. He breaks the kiss to take in your naked body beneath him.

He can’t believe that you’re real. That you’re beneath him, squirming and impatient for him. Body flushed and shining with a thin slayer of perspiration. Soft moans escaping from your swollen lips, and a desperate look in your eye.

And it’s all for him.

“Daryl..” You moan his name, running your fingers through his hair.

“Mm?” He replies, returning his attention back to your face.

“I want you inside me.”

He believed that his cock couldn’t get harder, but he was wrong. He could’ve came from those words alone.

“Ya?” He says a bit hesitant. He needed to make sure this was what you wanted.

“Please Daryl!” You plead, wrapping your legs around his hips and pushing him closer to your core.

He nods, pleased with how desperate you are for his cock. He places a forearm beside your head, resting his weight. He takes the other hand and lines himself up to your entrance.

“Ready, darlin?” He asks, kissing your temple. You never imagined Daryl to be an intimate person, but you adored it. The innocent kiss had your stomach fluttering.

“Please,” You moan, canting your hips forward to try and slip his cock inside. Daryl chuckles and holds your hips in place with one hand, forcing you to be still.

Slowly, he sinks inside you. His cock being enveloped by your soft warm walls, hugging him tight like a vice. You both moan in sync, shuddering as he continues to fill you up until his balls rest at your bottom.

“Shit, darlin. You feel s’good.” He says with his face between the crook of your neck, the vibration of his deep voice tickling your skin. He lets you adjust to his girth, patiently running gentle circles along your sides.

He feels you flutter around his cock adjusting to him. He runs a hand from your side, up to your face, cradling your cheek and coaxing you to look at him.

“Does it hurt?” He asks. He wasn’t certain whether you were a virgin or if it had been a long time since you’ve had sex. He wants to make sure you feel as good as he does.

“Just a lil, just give me a sec.” You reply, pecking him on the lips. He nods and kisses you, distracting you from the pain by licking into your mouth. He takes one of your nipples between his fingers and rolls it, making you squirm and gasp under him.

You both kiss until you run out of breath, and when you break apart you nod, allowing him to move.

He hugs you into his broad chest, burying his face into the top of you head and breathing in your scent as he pulls his hips back, and sheathes himself back inside you slowly, helping you get accustomed to him.

“Faster,” You moan, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You can feel his back muscles ripple under your fingertips and the raised skin from old scars.

“Greedy girl,” He whispers in your ear, smirking. But he obeys your command and snaps his hips faster into your pussy.

You bury your face into Daryl’s shoulder, muffling your moans and sobs of pleasure. He angles his hips just right, pounding that spot deep inside you that makes you see stars. Your nails drag down his back, earning a loud growl in your ear. He goes faster, spurred on by the sharp pain.

Your pussy made obscene wet noises with each snap of his hips. He felt your wetness coat his cock and drench his balls. He looked down at where you both were connected, and the visual of his cock disappearing into your pussy made him curse.

He switched the rhythm but kept the same speed. With each thrust inside your cunt, he would grind his groin on your clit.

You released a particular loud cry into his shoulder as he did this. His pubic hair accompanied by the powerful grind on your cunt had you reaching your climax quick. It was euphoric the way he played your body.

“That’s it girl.” Daryl praises, slapping the side of your thigh just to watch the fat jiggle. He felt your walls tighten at the action, and it had him smiling deviously into your neck.

“Yer’ just a slut fer my cock, aren’t ya? Humping me like some horny bitch in heat.” He says with a sadistic chuckle. You were shocked by his dirty words, but it had you melting in his arms.

“Yes! Yes Daryl!” You reply. The euphoric feeling with each slam of his cock has your mind shut off completely. You went limp, accepting him to use your body in anyway he wanted.

“Dumb slut, yer’ just drunk on my cock.” He says, slapping your thigh for a second time. “With your fucked out brains you’d do anythin’ wouldn’t ya, slut?”

You moan loud into his shoulder, rapidly nearing your orgasm. You can feel the tightness in your stomach about to snap.

“Yes! Anything! Anything for you!” You chant.

Daryl’s hips begin to stutter and he lets out a shaky moan.

“Then come on ma’ cock.”

That’s all it took. Your mouth opens in a silent scream as your body goes taut. A rush of pure euphoria clouds your mind. Daryl watches your face contort and feels your walls go impossibly tighter around his cock.

He continues thrusting, holding off his orgasm to ride out yours. He waits until your body goes limp in his arms before letting go.

With a drawn out groan, he indulges in your warm heat before pulling out and spilling his hot seed onto your stomach. His balls clench, and long stripes of white coat your abdomen and breasts. He strokes himself until his body shakes, and his orgasm fades into a dull pleasurable pulse.

He takes a look at your fucked out expression and gives you a lazy smirk. He lays beside you, hugging you into his chest— not minding his seed smearing on his stomach.

You’re both quiet for a few moments, listening to each other’s heartbeats and satisfied breaths.

“Holy fuck that was hot.” You’re first to break the silence.

Daryl snorts and smacks your ass, loving the way it jiggles from impact.

“Tell me bout’ it.” He says.

You look up at him, forcing him to open his tired eyes.

Despite all that you’ve done together, his heart seems to flutter most at the way you smile up at him. He’s about to ask you what you’re looking at him for, but before he can, your lips are already on his, kissing him short and sweet.

“You’re forgiven.” You say with a devilish smile.

He scoffs. “Yer’ a lil’ shit.” He says, and pushes your face into his chest. He rests his chin on your head and closes his eyes, ready to sleep.

Your arms wrap around him and you breathe in his smell noisily while tangling your legs around his torso.

“Jeez, woman. Go to sleep.” He huffs, a smile tugging on his lips.

“Mmmhmm.” You reply, snuggling into his chest, nearing the edge of falling asleep. “Goodnight.”

He rolls his eyes but still, he kisses your head.

“G’night darlin.”

[paper-daisy]

Like many of us I'm doing a TWD rewatch, looking for all those pre-relationship moments, and a great little one in 4x01 is after Michonne arrives back at the prison -- there's a moment where Daryl tells her "Glad to see you're in one piece." HOWEVER, when he says that he turns to look directly at Rick. Who in turn quickly looks away, almost bashful.

You can just imagine what Daryl had to put up with, with Rick in those early days. So I had to fic it.

Rick never said the words aloud. He never outright said, "I'm worried about Michonne. I hope she's okay. I hope she comes back." He was never that obvious. But to someone like Daryl, a man naturally of few words himself, it was clear as day that their fearless leader was never fully relaxed whenever that smartass/badass - who was more than capable of taking care of herself - wasn't safely tucked away behind their walls.

But what Rick would say when she was gone was - "There was a herd moving south, right?" Where Michonne had last gone hung unspoken between them. And when Daryl answered Yeah, Rick would just place his hands on his hips and nod, jaw tight, as he scanned the perimeter of the compound as if waiting for someone to magically appear.

He would say - "There's a lot more bandits out there, roaming in packs. Isn't that what you said?" A grunt and a shrug from Daryl, and Rick would nod like they'd just had a conversation and go back to his farming, digging the shovel into the dirt with a bit more force than necessary, making a point to not look at the fence. They hadn't heard from Michonne in two weeks.

He would say - "Nights are getting cold," while standing outside at the communal kitchen, plate in hand, his gaze always drawn to the barely visable fence line. Daryl had hummed in agreement, fighting the urge to tell him that Michonne should be fine as she had pilfered his poncho, something Rick already knew.

And on one strange occasion he said, "Do you think we should get some more ... art? In here?"

This had stopped Daryl in his tracks. "What?"

Rick shrugged, perhaps a little sheepishly, but continued. "We have a library, potted flowers, even some toys and things for the kids. This is our home now. Thought ... maybe it could use a bit of ... brightening?"

Daryl just starred blankly. "You want me to, what? Bring back pictures?"

For a moment it looked as if Rick was about to finally say what was actually on his mind, before he instead gave a rueful smile and waved his hand in the air as if to dispel the conversation. "Nah, nah, never mind. It was just a thought."

He walked away, leaving an utterly perplexed Daryl behind who simply shrugged and went on his own way. It was only later that day as he passed by Michonne's empty cell did his eyes fall upon that weird colourful cat thing, the one that looked like it was about to start a fight. It was such a stupid, useless thing but Daryl remembered how Michonne had presented it to him with an air of triumph, as if it was the most gorgeous thing in the world. He didn't get it.

Did Rick really think that if he made the place more art-filled, Michonne might want to hang around longer? he wondered, then immediately dismissed the idea. Well, clearly not because he gave up before he started. Like with other things.

Only once had Daryl said the unsaid thing.

Almost everyone was asleep. Well, Carl was hid under his blankets reading comics and there were low conversational sounds coming from some darkened cell, but for the most part things were quiet.

And they were kept quiet by an exhausted Rick, pacing back and forth with a fussy Judith, bouncing her non-stop so her cries wouldn't awaken the entire community. He'd nodded to Daryl, who in turn took a moment to ask if he needed help putting Judith to sleep tonight.

"No, thankyou" said Rick tiredly. "I think she's pretty much worn herself out by now. Should be sound asleep soon."

"You too."

Rick sighed. "Yeah. I just ..." He shifted Judith a little, "Even when I do get to bed, I can't seem to stop thinking. Thinking of plans for the future, for the people we have in here. The people we bring in. How to protect everyone inside these walls. Keep our people safe despite ... well, despite everything." Rick looked at Daryl as if he might have the answers to those questions he hadn't quite asked.

All he could do was shrug. "We just try. Trust that we all know what we're doing. Lookout for everyone here. Not much more we can do, is there? Future don't care about anyone's plans."

Rick didn't look totally reassured, but he still smiled slightly as Daryl's efforts. "Yeah. I just worry, is all."

"I know." And as Daryl passed by he gripped Rick's shoulder and muttered, "Shouldn't worry so much. Michonne'll be back, all in one piece. You'll see."

And the man had the audacity to look confused, stuttering out, "Yeah, I know that, but - but I wasn't talking about Michonne, specifically. I'm not worried about her. She can take care of herself, I know that, and she always comes back, it's just ... with everything ..."

As he trailed off Daryl eyed Rick critically for a moment. He really thinks he's selling it, he thought, before giving a soft grunt that was akin to laughter and wandering off to bed, leaving a somewhat disconcerted Rick behind, gently bouncing a sleeping Judith.

And the very next day who should come riding through the gates but one Michonne, smiling, baring gifts and all in one piece, as Daryl made sure to point out to Rick, who's ears suddenly went bright red as if Michonne might somehow be able to figure out that they'd been taking about her just that night before.

But she didn't notice. She was too caught up in her almost obsessive search for the Governor and already planning her next venture out, unaware of Rick's barely suppressed disappointment or of the sigh that Daryl kept clenched behind his teeth as he tried to subtly talk her out of another long run. It wasn't her who was stuck with Rick and his wordless pining.

Because it was pining, even if he never said nothing. If they were in school Daryl might've suggested he pass her a note.

When she had quickly offered to go back out again with the rest of the scavenging party - even though, as Carl had said wistfully, she'd just got back - and Daryl could do nothing more than give Rick a comforting pat, grimacing slightly as the man's expression said exactly the same thing his son had vocalised.

God, this was going to wear thin soon.

Ah well. Wasn't like they had TV anymore.

[frangipanilove]

The Book Of Carol; A Damn Romance Novel...?

...ok hear me out before you go into anaphylactic shock...

I came across an interesting gif set in the Daryl Dixon tag the other day. It was by zehiiro on Tumblr, and I truly thought it was a great observation. I don’t want to tag them in case they'd rather not be dragged into Bethyl/TD stuff and thangs, but the parallels were convincing, and they deserve cred for their observation. Naturally, I interpret it differently than they do, but I will never claim to have the full truth on how anything in TWDU is meant to be interpreted. I can only offer my point of view, and I quite enjoy reading other people's perspectives, it's often very enlightening.

In any case, the parallels are solid, here's a screenshot:

It makes a lot of sense if what we saw in Carol's sneak peak was shot intentionally to reference the scene from 7x10 New Best Friends. This was after Carol and Daryl had been apart for an extended period of time, just as they are in the current timeline. It was directly before they reunited, something we have to assume will happen relatively soon after the sneak peak takes place in current time. And it references a scene that, in my opinion, heralds rebirth, reunion and resurrection. I'll try to explain how below.

In 7x10 New Best Friends, Daryl has an altercation with Richard, because Richard wants to set up Carol to be killed by the Saviors, in an attempt to lure Ezekiel to go to war, along with Rick, against the Saviors.

Daryl, of course, has major objections to the idea. They fight, right next to a trailer decorated with horses, that we later learned was actually used in the movie Smokey and the Bandit. I wrote about that in an old post of mine, read it here.

Interestingly, we saw a callback to that trailer recently in TOWL 1x5 Become...

...after Rick and Michonne had escaped in that yellow car we all knew was a reference to a selection of yellow objects seen through the years...

...such as Beth's yellow polo, and a certain yellow Ford Mustang from season 2...

Remember Carol's blue Ford Mustang? I wrote about it here and here. Mustangs are horses, and I believe these shots were specifically included in reference to the symbolism around Mustangs, and I mean both the horses and the cars here.

This shot of Carol's blue Ford Mustang from TWDDD 1x6 Coming Home, shows the licence plate that points to TWD 5x2, which was when Carol and Daryl discovered a Grady car, and followed it into Atlanta, and eventually located Beth.

And like I expanded on in the post about the yellow symbolism, it all derives from Carol's yellow Jeep Cherokee from season one, plus the aforementioned yellow Ford Mustang from season 2...

...which happens to have the same licence plate as the car that Carol and Daryl drove to follow the Grady car to Atlanta, which eventually led them to Beth...

...and which I believe is a reference to the Lincoln Continental Beth and Daryl hid in in 4x12 Still (because the LC on the licence plate, in my opinion, could represent "Lincoln Continental").

What happens directly after Daryl and Richard's fight by the mustang/horse trailer, is that Daryl makes his way over to Carol's house. He knocks on her door, and reunites with Carol after a long time apart. And what is Carol doing right before she opens her door?

She’s reading a damn romance novel, called Denim Dreams, with a familiar looking Sirius Piggyback on the cover:

Sirius Piggyback; The Literal Book Of Carol

Below, we see the actual Sirius Piggyback from 4x13 Alone, along with the stock photo from Shutterstock that was used as the cover photo for Carol's damn romance novel:

In 4x13 Alone, Daryl carried Beth, piggyback-style, across a cemetary. In 7x10 New Best friends, Carol lived in a little YELLOW house, near a cemetary, enjoying a damn romance novel, with a Sirius Piggyback cover photo...

Those are some darned suspicious coincidences...

Back when 7x10 New Best Friends aired, this caused quite a stir, and it remains to this day one of my favorite Bethyl hints to ever appear in TWDU. Read more about it in these excellent posts from season 7 (here and here).

Later, we see Carol prepare food for Daryl, while explaining why she had to leave. We see the romance novel, with the Sirius Piggyback cover photo, on her bookshelf, right next to a symbol we remember from 5x8 Coda:

My take on the title "Denim Dreams", is that, long story short, "denim" is a blue clue (in the sense that "blue jeans" is an established term). And as I explained in a recent post, "blue" is a synonym for "police". Beth and Rick are both encompassed by the "blue" symbolism, Rick because he's a police officer, Beth because she's "the new sheriff in town". The "pig" in "Sirius Piggyback" refers to the derogatory term for police, "pig", which has been used as symnonomous with "police" several times in TWDU. I wrote about the "pig" symbolism recently in this post, along with my take on the cat symbolism.

Speaking of cat symbolism, there was plenty of that to be found in 7x10 New Best Friends. Here's Rick, articulating what I tried to say in my cat symbolism post:

...to replace the one you lost...

...it's just that sometimes the one you lost can't easily be replaced...

But the cat symbolism is about rebirth, reunion and resurrection, and that's something to hold on to, according to an overwhelming number of characters in this episode...

...which is interesting, concidering a certain someone sang an entire Tom Waits classic on the subject of "holding on" back in season 3:

I know I keep saying that the symbolism we see is about "reunion". I'm not taking that out of thin air. Here's Daryl's commentary as we hear Beth's voice singing "Hold On" in the background:

Straight from the horses mouth there. What Daryl is referring to is the fact that he had just returned to, and reunited with, TF after initially having wandered off with his brother earlier in the season.

So, to circle back to the scene from 7x10, and its parallel, the scene from Carol's sneak peak; they're about reunions. Sure, it's obviously specifically about the imminent reunion between Carol and Daryl, both in 7x10 and in TWDDD seasson 2, which I'm personally looking forward to immensly.

But there are multiple layers to the reunion symbolism in TWDU, many of which speak directly to TD.

Because that damn romance novel, Carol's actual book from 7x10 New Best Friends, The Literal Book Of Carol, is a story about the Sirius Piggyback. And the comment on the damn romance novel from 4x1 was about Beth, that's a 100% undeniable fact:

Sirius means return, rebirth and resurrection. She will be back. Sirius Piggyback.

Perhaps in "The Book Of Carol; a Damn Romance Novel"...

[yamperzzz]

I'm going crazy, I had a trio of super old MadCom OCs that were supposed to be a bandit, survivor, and a brute, and the joke was that all their names start with "D", but I literally only remember that one of their names is Daryl or something and the custom cutscene I made for them years ago hints at NOTHING GRAHHHH

[lola-andheruniverse]

WIP Saturday - Caryl Fanfiction Rec

Dear fellow carylers, today's WIP is from the talented artist and author @alatariel-gildaen. A very interesting TWD X Borderlands crossover that deserves your attention!

Vault of the Savior is posted on 9Lives and AO3.

Summary: Legend has it that the Vault of the Savior will only open for four individuals in the universe at any one time. And Handsome Jack has tracked them all down.

Carol, Daryl, Rick, and Michonne have to navigate the treachery of Hyperion, of bandit clans, monsters, aliens, and of their own pasts to survive Pandora.

Rated: M Word count: 12.940 (04 chapters of?) Published: June 26, 2024 - WIP A lot of people dislike reading crossovers because they don't think they can keep it up or care about characters from different universes. If you are one of them, dear fellow Caryler, let me tell you that the success of a crossover depends entirely on the author knowing how to weave together two different stories, and not on your prior knowledge of them. Believe me, our author has an special talent to it (her TWD/X-Men crossover is incredible and reviewed here), so please give this WIP a try. You're in good hands. I don't play videogames and have no idea of what Borderlands is and I'm hooked! I love the different codenames, backgrounds and motivations behind our characters and I'm very intrigued by the villain's intentions on luring them all to Pandora. Can't wait to see Carol and Daryl's relationship evolve in such a different but equally harsh scenario as the ZA. Plus, this fic gives Rick and Michonne a big spotlight, so if you like Richonne, you're in for a double treat. So far our author is doing a great job writing them, which is difficult after so long writing for a single ship. Let's applaud her for that! I really hope you give this WIP a read, dear fellow carylers! And don't forget to leave a review/kudos. Feedback is love and love keeps our authors motivated to write. Share the love!

[naritaren]

Tagged by @thebarefootking

Tagging @rennarita @debbiechanclub @clark-connors @pepperstreak and anyone else who wants to play!

[fallingblueroses]

For the heck of it I added the Geoff clones to Death Road to Canada. A breakdown of the game events.

Looted a Y'all-Mart.

Jeoph fell asleep on watch and a bunch of supplies were stolen.

They found a coffee shop. Jeff got to drink coffee.

They loot a dentist office.

They stop to play mini-golf. High morale all around!

Jeff distracts bandits so the others can get through.

The clones survive a zombie siege.

Their car gets damaged when Jeff jumps it over a flood.

Forced to abandon car #1. Jeoph scares off some bandits. Steal car #2 from a rest area.

They rescue a lady named Beaulah who teaches them first aid.

They use some cans for target practice and get yelled at by the cans' owner.

They save an alien from the zombies.

They get attacked by a swarm of bees.

They get beaten up by another group of bandits.

Daryl and Goff get in an argument.

They get a free egg from a chicken.

Daryl abandons the group.

Goff and Jeff are eaten by zombies. Jeoph barely escapes.

Jeoph is forced to abandon car #2. He's robbed by bandits.

Jeoph finds car #3.

He finds a whole package of marshmallows!

Jeoph gets eaten by zombies with 8 days left to go.

I'll get them to Canada. I promise.

[bizlybebo]

i was playing twdg earlier and like. lilly is a really good character and i love her actually? like she's a bad person but she goes through so much. she's tough and she makes bad decisions but also take into account that she feels the need to lead everyone all the time adn is constantly under a lot of stress????? and also what happened at the dairy farm. what are your thoughts on her character if you have any

I LOVE LILY SO MUCH !!! like yeah you’re so right. she does kinda Suck. but in the first game she’s just a scared young adult trying to keep her father alive? like her fathers an absolute asshole too. we hate larry here. but she’s just scared and trying to cling onto any familiarity from the old world, and larry is family. hes her dad. haven’t played twdg1 in a while but the attachment kind of reminds me of merle and daryl from twd show.

when she kills carly/doug depending on route, she’s scared and grieving and angry. she’s been uprooted from her new home, her father’s dead, and bandits were after them. she acted harshly but also the world was harsh to her. she acted on distrust and fear, which is normal for a lot of characters in a lot of zombie medias. she shouldn’t have pulled that trigger; there’s not 100% justification, but there is an explanation. yknow?

idk. lily is seriously one of my favorite characters from that game series. i also have similar feelings about minerva and marlin (< NUMBER ONE MARLIN APOLOGIST!!!!!!!!). most of the villains in twdg are compelling because they are just. people. and they’re so humanized. yknow?

[gatormeister]

First time watching Gundam Thunderbolt

Okay. I did not know this was an ongoing story. So anyone exclusively watching the anime have been waiting on a third season/movie for seven years now? And after Bandit Flower ends right after introducing who I can only assume is the main villain? I can appreciate your patience.

Anyways.

Thunderbolt is just plain great. I loved it. I stand by the Full Armor Gundam looking kinda goofy, (I genuinely believed the three extra shields were all that constituted the Full Armor in the name when I first saw it in Gunpla form on digital store fronts,) But I have to admit it looks pretty fantastic in motion.

Speaking of Thunderbolt Original suits, they are all fantastic. The Full Armor, the Psycho Zaku, and my favorite of the three; the Atlas Gundam. I just love the white, yellow, black color scheme. It's very striking.

The actually show/movies those designs are attached to are pretty good too. December Sky is the better of the two current movies I think. It's mostly self contained, you can watch it and not have to worry about how things continue on or any plot points left hanging. It's both an eccentric and stylish visual feast, and a brutal and crushing view of the one year war at the same time. Here we are in the middle of a dead colony and its surrounding space where neither side is all that well equipped save for some experimental mobile suits that are no doubt only there for field testing. All the soldiers on both sides of the conflict are miserable and broken, clinging to just about anything to keep themselves sane while throwing themselves into an endless meat grinder. Their one and only purpose being to kill the enemy before they themselves are killed, it's just about all they can do until they both end up tearing themselves apart.

Then Bandit Flower is very much about a specific mission and enemy they have to fight. Yeah, it takes a turn to a more standard, more familiar Gundam framework afterwards, and really I can't fault Thunderbolt for that. How long can something like December Sky go on before it just ends up repeating the same points over and over. It makes perfect sense to move forward in the way they did, and Bandit Flower does exceptionally well placing the characters and loose threads of December Sky into this more objective based plot.

Io and Daryl are both incredibly well written and performed, bouncing off their respective side characters perfectly. I love how Bandit Flower focuses on amphibious mobile suit battles, it's such an underutilized aspect of the series. All these amphibious Zeon suits that look goofy as all hell are put to fantastic and wonderful use here. I mean I'll be honest, I never expected something that looks like the Acguy could look so cool in a series.

So yeah, Thunderbolt was exactly as awesome as people said it was, I have no complaints other than I can't wait to see more of it... however many years that may take.

The next stop on my Gundam viewing journey is Mobile Suit Gundam SEED, SEED Destiny, and eventually SEED Freedom. SEED Destiny is hated, I know, but I feel like I need to at least see it through if I'm going to watch SEED at all. It's either all in or all out, I'll be back to share my thoughts once SEED is over.

[canmom]

Animation Night 144 - Gundam Thunderbolt

144 is 12 squared. Squares are kinda robot like. Ergo we’re watching Gundam. Impeccable logic I’m sure you’ll agree.

Check it out, it’s an Itano circus.

Gundam! Over the course of Animation Night I’ve gone from being someone who doesn’t know the first thing about Gundam (back when I wrote Animation Night 88 on the history of robot anime and Animation Night 94 on Tomino’s “New Anime Century” and ‘anti-war’ fiction) to someone who is developing a fondness for its particular brand of scifi melodrama.

Gundam Thunderbolt is set in the core Universal Century timeline, but it approaches it with a mind towards changing and dismantling; the author of the manga, Yasuo Ohtagaki, even spoke of ‘always trying to identify which parts of Gundam must be destroyed’ - destruction and subversion being what he considers the original spirit of Gundam.

Gundam Thunderbolt thus begins in a time period concurrent with the original Gundam TV series, with the Federation and Zeon battling on Earth in a ‘Thunderbolt Sector’ littered with space debris. On the Federation’s side are survivors of one of the destroyed space colonies wishing revenge; on Zeon’s is a special unit of amputee pilots. Before long, however, the conflict develops a third faction with the Buddhist radicals in the ‘South Seas Alliance’, which declares its secession from the Federation.

But it’s Gundam, so the focus of the story is on a handful of characters caught in the middle of it. On the Federation side we have Io Fleming, an ensign with a passion for music, and his lover Claudia Peer, a spaceship captain deeply depressed at the long war. On Zeon’s side comes Daryl Lorenz, double leg amputee, and Karla Mitchum, a caring scientist specialising in prosthetics. Early on in the conflict, Io causes Daryl to lose yet another limb - but rather than pack up and leave the war, he volunteers to undergo a further amputation for full integration into a brain controlled Gundam.

The manga is still ongoing, but the first arc was written with the intent of being adapted into a movie, and indeed Sunrise did just that. The first form of Thunderbolt was an eight-episode ONA series released on the web from 2015-2017. Concurrently, this was recut as a pair of compilation movies, titled December Sky and Bandit Flower.

(look it has girls and robots!)

Gundam has gone through many hands since Tomino’s day, and the principle factions of the Universal Century setting have been interpreted in a number of ways - something that anituber Pyramid Inu discusses nicely here. At the time Ohtagaki was writing in the mid 2010s, the mainstream Gundam airing was the Unicorn series (OVAs and then a TV show), written by Harutoshi Fukui, a writer who began his career writing Tom Clancy-like stories with a nationalist bent. He toned this down when he took over Gundam, describing himself as a ‘JJ Abrams’ type figure; nevertheless his Gundam presented a heavy-handedly war-on-terror inspired story in which the Federation is cast as America fighting Muslim militants.

Ohtagaki’s vision also emphasises religion, but instead puts the focus on a more familiar Buddhism, taking aim at what he sees as unreasonable suspicion towards religion in modern Japan (source)...

If you depict people who believe in Buddhism in a manga, people call that a cult. He points out that that way of thinking is already biased and feels that it points out people’s ignorance towards religion. He laments that if you look at it from a global perspective or even consider the history of humanity, the lack of religious beliefs among Japanese people today is quite unusual. He says that it’s a significant problem for Japan today to accept and tolerate other people’s beliefs, so much so that just because someone appears chanting sutras, they’re branded a cult.

He says that assumptions like that are far more dangerous. He’s not out to portray the South Seas Alliance as an ally of justice, nor their religious beliefs as righteous, it’s just that Japanese people close their eyes and try not to see them. He’s illustrating all this because he wants people to realize that it’s strange to think there is no such thing, that it’s more than a little unnatural that there were no religions in the world of Gundam in the first place.

Ohtagaki aimed to sidestep Gundam conventions in other ways: an adult protagonist, a stronger emphasis on chain of command. On the matter of ‘anti-war’, he takes a more fatalistic, small-scale stance:

In anime, the side the protagonist is on always ends up looking like the side that’s in the right. But both the Federation and Zeon are just countries, so it shouldn’t be about wrong and right. I don’t think there’s any point in inserting your ideologies in a manga. For people with normal lives, nations and wars are the ultimate kind of violence, and I want to draw the best ways to handle being in a war in order to survive.

So I’m not anti-war either. Wars will continue to happen, and I don’t think we’ll ever be rid of them, so the most important thing is to know how to handle them. But there aren’t that many people in Japan who think about things in that way. It’s correct to say that you’re anti-war or that there shouldn’t be war, so if you look at things as though war is inevitable, people think that you’re pro-war and you’re a bad person. But I think that’s a very narrow way of thinking, and it actually shows a lack of historical knowledge.

What do I think of that, eh? Right now, mostly ‘hmm’. Ohtagaki is correct to recognise that ‘will wars happen’ and ‘should wars happen’ are different questions; there’s also the question of ‘if war shouldn’t happen, how can it be prevented’. To say ‘war is inevitable’, even if is true, is not to commit to any particular war being inevitable. But it’s also true that there’s no need for all fiction about wars to try and take them on!

I can’t entirely comment on this until I’ve seen the movies, so put a pin there; but given the morass of ‘what does it mean to make true anti-war fiction’, deciding to sidestep the issue entirely is perhaps an understandable move. I’ll be curious to see what focus this approach gives the films; if previous Gundams have approached ‘anti-war narrative’ through focusing on the futility of going to war and the hope for some kind of new-age transcendance (original Gundam), the tragedy of civilians caught up in the middle (War in the Pocket), or the story of a soldier who tries to avoid killing (08th MS Team), what will a story that’s more about just trying to survive look like?

Anyway, so far we’ve focused on the writer and the manga. Let’s actually talk about animation.

Thunderbolt was animated at Sunrise Studio 1, known as one of the bastions of the gradually dying art of 2D mecha animation, as well as character animation with an impressive sense of space. More recently, they impressed everyone with Gundam Hathaway (Animation Night 124).

So Gundam Thunderbolt abounds with complex shouts and detailed designs moving through space, leaning on the talents of e.g. Nobuhiko Genma and Kazuki Ito who animated this incredible POV shot, or Shingo Tamagawa of Puparia fame who provides this splendid character animation. In the late 2010s, we are firmly in the digital compositing era, and glows, flares, gradients and high contrast backgrounds abound, but even though this isn’t entirely to my taste I can’t deny just how splendid the underlying drawings are. The character designs are on the realist end of the scale, and they float around with the classic Sunrise sensitivity to 3D space.

Mecha destruction is given a particularly impressive level of flair, with beam swords and lasers slicing up robots and splattering hot metal all over to the point that it starts to feel like a gory samurai movie. All in all it looks intense and compelling: the product of decades of development by some of the best in their craft. It manages to retain clarity of very complex designs even as they move around wildly. It’s even got some cool oldschool lighting effects...

A question that may be asked is, if mecha animation is mostly about animating complex, rigid 3D shapes, why not do it on the computer, which excels at exactly that? One answer is that there’s a certain quality of movement that comes from planning everything out in 2D. Low framerates can be used to create a sense of weight and avoid the ‘toyetic’ feeling that comes from overly-smooth CG without considerable effort put in to avoiding it.

Another is that 2D gives you a different approach to composition, which allows you to subtly exaggerate and stylise or just frame things in a way that puts the layout in the camera first without constraint - the reason that Houseki no Kuni planned out its action scenes in great detail in 2D before animating them in 3D. Then there’s just the ‘feeling’ of 2D, the slight errors and roughness giving it a more lively, organic feeling. Finally we might add the effect of limitations and constraints as structure.

That said, the ‘2D feel’ of a digitally composited series like Thunderbolt is not the same ‘2D feel’ as a 90s OVA like 08th MS Team. Working digitally makes some aspects of the workflow easier - you can easily preview a motion and scroll through the timeline - which makes some of these extremely complex shots possible. But conversely it is associated with faraway objects becoming indistinct blobs - this is I believe what is referred to as ‘douga melt’. Thunderbolt in all these clips looks very ‘2010s’. Which makes me wonder what the characteristic look of 2020s anime will turn out to be...

I think that will suffice for an introduction/study log/whatever these posts are! Animation Night 144 will begin at 8pm UK time, about two hours from this post! Movies will start at about 8:20pm. It will be at twitch.tv/canmom! Hope to see you there~

[yamperzzz]

A short post about the bandit trio I'm rewriting, I've mentioned before that the bandits existed for years, but I needed to give them a much-needed upgrade since I got back into MadCom several weeks ago. Though I don't have a lot of info saved about them back then and even forgot some info, I thought I'd share what I do remember for fun and to show how much things changed ^_^

General Info

Though the bandits were always intended to work with Mr. M since the early days of me modding M:PN, it was never as extensive as I intend for it to be now. The tone was less serious, and it mostly followed them getting into funny situations. Since the beginning, Mr. M would make the trio be his errand boys, though his personality was more shallow and basic.

Douglas

I said a while ago that I forgot what all the names of the bandits were when I decided to rework them, and I eventually had to replace pretty much all of them in the end. However, I believe(?) Douglas' name was the only one that stayed untouched. The statement that Douglas was once a regular bandit stayed the same, but old Douglas never really decided to change after meeting his version of Duffus. His behavior was unchanged and he remained a cannibal, he was only just more careful around old Duffus in general. He's more mad in this version, and greedier/selfish, although ultimately I think he remained the least changed overall.

He is "PSQUAD1" in these old cutscenes.

Duffus

Arguably the most changed bandit in the trio. I had completely forgotten his old name (I have a feeling it was Dugal or Dougal but I couldn't be sure nor did I care for this name anymore). His personality and story was also completely different. Old Duffus was much more infantilized in a way that bothered me looking back. He was simply a bandit brute rather than a regular G03LM, and was overwhelmingly friendly but dumb. He met Douglas by simply getting lost, and followed him like a dog afterward. He was treated more like the comic relief of the group, and though I think there's always a time and place for that, here it just didn't come out good in my opinion. I'm thinking about going as far as allowing Duffus to view Douglas as a father figure, but I don't think going as far as it used to be was good at all. I'm glad I reworked him.

He is "PSQUAD2" in these old cutscenes.

Duncan

I believe Duncan's old name was Daryl, but I can't be sure, nor do I care because it's a dumb name. Old Duncan was a lot more one-note, mostly serving as the one logical thinking person of the group who pushes back against Douglas' insane ideas. He wasn't as aggressive as new Duncan is, as old Duncan was usually used as comic relief as well for when the other two would ignore his thoughts and thus get themselves in trouble/danger. I personally this his was the least developed, especially when you consider that his old backstory involved him just visiting the duo when meeting them for the first time for no good reason, really. Overall, he was just kinda meh back then.

He is "PSQUAD3" in these old cutscenes.

Overall, I love being able to go back and give new life to old OCs when my frontal cortex develops a little more LOLLLLLLLL

[sunnydaleherald]

The Sunnydale Herald Newsletter, Saturday, January 20th

DR. KRIEGEL: Of course we're still going to have to watch your mother carefully, and, uh, have her back in here for some follow-up testing, (Buffy nods) but, uh, overall I'd consider the procedure a complete success. (Smiles all round. Everyone hugs each other. Giles and Xander start to hug, then settle for a handshake instead.) BUFFY: (hugging Riley) Oh my goodness, doctor, thank you, thank you so much. DR. KRIEGEL: Please, it's my pleasure. (Buffy hugs him and he yells in pain as she forgets her slayer-strength. She gasps and pulls back.) BUFFY: Sorry. Sorry!

~~Into the Woods~~

[Drabbles & Short Fiction]

Freed by apachefirecat (Angel/Cordelia, PG-13/T)

Hidden Talent by Bobbie23 (Giles/Jenny, M)

When Waking Up is a Nightmare by LiraelClayr007 (Buffy, T)

Special by Pinkperson (Buffy/Angel, M)

L'anniversaire de Buffy by MissKitty28 (Buffy/Spike, G)

L'anniversaire de Buffy by Miss Kitty (Buffy/Spike, G)

Something New by Spikelover4ever (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

[Chaptered Fiction]

Lost Angels, Chapter 23 by StillRose (Xander/Spike, Supernatural crossover, E)

The More the World is Changing, the More it Stays the Same, Chapter 4 by the_widow_twankey (Angel/Spike, M)

Easy Street, Chapter 10 by Storm_Arke (Faith/Daryl Dixon, The Walking Dead crossover, T)

They Know Exactly What We're Here For, Chapter 4 by MadeInGold (Angel/Riley/Spike, M)

Sisters, the adventures of Sam and Buffy Carter - Year 1, Chapter 11 by FPBarbieri (Buffy, Stargate crossover, G)

Back undead and little again, Chapter 2 by AnkiKind (Angel & Spike, M)

Straight to the Heart, Chapter 2 by QuillBard (Buffy/Faith, M)

Something Borrowed, Chapter 1 by Geliot99 (Buffy/Spike, M)

Jojo's Bizarre Adventure: Shadowed Suspicion Volume X, Chapter 1 by arcanedreamer (Ensemble, Jojo's Bizarre Adventure crossover, T)

Twos Company, Chapter 1 by Serenitey (Buffy/Spike, M)

Phase 1, Chapter 1 by Rutkowski (Willow/Tara, multiple crossovers, T)

Choose your own Award, Chapter 10 by Narsil (Xander, multiple crossovers, T)

Untitled Giles miniseries, Chapter 5 by iobsessoverfictionalmen (Giles/reader, Wonder Woman crossover, warnings: violence, cursing, insults, lying, and attempted manipulation)

Amara Time, Chapter 15 by Joan963z (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Afterburn, Chapter 6 by Melme1325 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

New Beginnings, Chapter 2 by slinky (Lucifer crossover, NC-17)

Early One Morning, Chapter 9 by all choseny (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Love Lives Here, Chapter 11 by Passion4Spike (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

Pack My Box with Five Dozen Liquor Jugs, Chapter 20 by honeygirl51885 (Buffy/Spike, NC-17)

A Waxy Gent Chuckled Over My Fab Jazzy Quips, Chapter 20 by violettathepiratequeen (Buffy/Spike, PG-13)

Coming Through, Chapter 1 by hulettwyo (Buffy/Spike, Adult Only)

[Images, Audio & Video]

Artwork: What if there were tattoos by JSBirsa (Buffy & Spike, worksafe)

Manip: SuSuSunnydale, here's to the fools who love, Chapter 9: The Proposal by loveisntbrains (PG)

Artwork: Buffy and Spike kissing by spikedru

Manip: happy birthday Buffy Summers by l0veisntbrains (Buffy/Spike, worksafe)

Crafts: Time for another fanbinding! by kitty-bandit

Fanvid: Buffy Summers | Beautifully Strange [BTVS] by Light

Fanvid: Buffy & Spike - Scandalous by RatCat92

Fanvid: Buffy and Giles || Light by Lucy Whiskers

Fanvid: ATS || Wesley+Fred/Illyria || Breathe Me || HD by Narcia Lily

Fanvid: Buffy and Spike - Tonight by Nina Mironovitch

Fanvid: Faith/Buffy - Get Him Back by robotgutz

Fanvid: Buffy Summers | all‐american bitch by ceoazula

Fanvid: Believe in Buffy The Vampire Slayer - Contemporary Video by thunderchild27

Fanvid: Buffy is Damaged - Contemporary Music Video by thunderchild27

Fanvid: Forever May Not Be Long Enough - Spuffy - Contemporary Video by thunderchild27

Fanvid: btvs & ats [потому что когда я люблю тебя — я права] by zle

Fanvid: BTVS Willow Hayloft 2 by Just A True Believer

Fanvid: Buffy and Damon Being Snarky to Each Other by Bobblehead89 (The Vampire Diaries crossover)

Fanvid: Spike Tribute (Kryptonite Reloaded) by Gamster's World

Stop motion video: Amiga date cuenta!!! by Alberto Ramírez Clar (with funko pops)

Stop motion video: Buffy y Angel van en busca de ayuda by Alberto Ramírez Clar (with funko pops)

Stop motion video: Discusiones by Alberto Ramírez Clar (with funko pops)

Music: Buffy The Vampire Slayer Rescore: Season 1 Episode 7 "Angel" by David Müller

Music: Buffy The Vampire Slayer Theme [Minecraft Note Block] by brandon plays

Music: Walk Through The Fire - Buffy Theme (Medium Piano Tutorial) | Sheet Music + MIDI file by Piano Diaries

[Reviews & Recaps]

Podcast: Episode 11 now available! Season 1 The Sunnydale Diaries by humdoy

Video: Bargaining-Slayer Sunday by Jane Talks Buffy

Video: The #btvs Twisted Guide S02E05: Reptile Boy by Twisted View

Video: Buffy Season 6: Entropy and Seeing Red by Revisiting the Buffyverse

Video: Buffy The Vampire Slayer by FAVORITE OLE SIT-COM

Video: Buffy the Vampire Slayer HONEST Trailer-RAW Reaction ... was HONESTLY Funny... But... by Examining Kubrick Craven Halloween

Video: A New Chapter: Buffy Season 4 (Deepdive/discussion) by Revisiting The Buffyverse

Podcast: Once more with feeling - 5x15 I Was Made To Love You by Nerd Subculture Podcast

[Fandom Discussions]

Watching Helpless and this vampire assumes that if he turns Buffy and leaves her in a room with her mother she’ll eat her by Aphony Cree

the way the heaven reveal in buffy was dealt with in once more with feeling was pretty good by dragonmickie

the problem is i can't hate xander by grinchwrapsupreme

Imagine the series if Kendra was the main Slayer by itzniaok and nevergonnabemuchmorethanweather

drusilla as a potential slayer by spikedru

Buffy would make an excellent paramedic by creamcheesy

Blood Vengeance by myboyknows

Could Dark Willow be foreshadowed as early season 3? continued by NoShip

It makes you wonder about the morals of Buffy and Spike continued by multiple posters

Article - "Warren Mears and the Slaying of Incel Culture" by Joan the Vampire Slayer

Wesley and Fred- Too Manipulative? continued by multiple posters

Spike in season 8 if the show had continued what direction they would take him continued by sybil and Stoney

BtVS rewatch: SEASON 7 continued by sybil and war and peaches

Do you think The Groosalugg became an acolyte of Jasmine? by AndrewHeard

Was a Bangel a bit rushed? by Unable_Earth5914

Genuine question: who the hell invited Spike in Hells Bells?? by tinysleepycryptid

uuuuh i just watched seeing red for the first time and i have thoughts by likeshinythings

Are the comics worth getting/reading? by Queasy-Bluebird5843

A long rant about Spike and Spuffy in s6 by funishin

Angel in Buffy season 3 is one of the most boring characters on the show by jdpm1991

Xander’s dad sucks holy crap by Eagles56

Video: Making Riley Finn Interesting (Buffy) by Pensive Whiskers

[Articles, Interviews, and Other News]

Video: The Master - An Interview With Mark Metcalf by Beer with Buffy

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