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lilyevanstan1325 · 3 months

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❤️ Built For This World ❤️

Chapter 10

“You gotta understand” Dave sighs as he pours himself a glass of liquor, “We can’t stay out there”

“I miss the part where this is our problem” I hiss giving him my full attention.

The man doesn’t seem irritated by my words, in fact he smiles.

“Listen man the farm is too crowded as it is.I’m sorry.You’ll have to keep looking” Rick tries to mediate, throwing at me a hard gaze, imploring me with his gaze to keep my mouth shut.

Dave nods.

“Keep looking” he murmurs with his lips pressed against the rim of the glass, taking a moment to swallow the amber liquid.

“Where do you suggest we do that” he finally replies, placing the glass in front of him.

“I hear Nebraska’s nice” I respond immediately with a toothy smile.

Dave laughs in response, throwing his head back.

“Nebraska.You’re so feral, I like you” he chuckles and in a blink of an eye he grabs his gun but Rick is much faster than him exploding a shot straight at the man’s head.

Without thinking twice I turn my back on Rick, leaning it against his and without even aiming I fire two shots at Tony’s chest.

But something seems to be wrong.

There's something wrong with the man who slowly raises a hand to his chest and collapses to the floor.

The man's big, sweaty face transforms into a completely different one.

His round cheeks take on a more angular appearance.

His smooth cheeks are now covered with a light layer of beard.

Some dark locks slide across his forehead and cover his dark eyes.

Actually no...no dark eyes...eyes as clear and blue as a summer sea.

The prominent abdomen fills with blood as it changes shape into a broader, more muscular chest.

The black shirt gradually darkens as the blood soaks it.

A strong calloused hand rests right where the bullets have pierced the flesh.

In horror, I let go the gun, kneeling in front of the man who, moment by moment, is struggling more and more to breathe, gurgling gasps abandoning his lips which are taking on a worrying shade of grey.

“Daryl.I'm Sorry.I'm so sorry” I whine pressing my hands on his wounds trying to stop the bleeding.

Blood slips through my fingers unable to slow the process.

Continuing to press, I look behind me.

“Help me.Help him”

My scream hurts my own eardrums.

Rick, Glenn and Hersel look at me without moving.

Not even a shadow of the panic on their faces that is currently consuming my every cell.

I return my eyes to the man lying at my feet, his eyes are absent.

“Why don't you do anything!” I scream desperately feeling the heartbeat under my fingers slow down inexorably.

No noise behind me.

The blood flows from the two holes more and more slowly now.

“Please stay with me, big boy.I need you” I sniff at him, my vision blurred with tears.

It can't end like this.

I couldn't tell him how I felt about him.

I didn't have time to tell him how special he was to me.

I couldn't thank him for saving my life in every way a person can be saved.

I didn't tell him that I love him.

“Daryl” I whisper as his eyes turn glassy and a final trembling sigh leaves his lips.

Daryl slips away in front of my horrified eyes.

I lost him.

I lost him forever.

And it's all my fault.

With a clouded mind and a heart full of anger I stand up unable to take my eyes off the archer's lifeless body.

I killed a human being.

I killed Daryl Dixon.

I killed the greatest love of my life.

In the fog of my thoughts I can hear the sound of Rick's boots coming alongside me.

Then another shot.

And now Daryl's face is also covered in blood.

I killed Daryl Dixon.

His coagulated blood between my fingers only reminds me of that.

“Why didn't you help him, Rick?” I ask, my heart shattering as I move my gaze to his face.

The room is dark now.

There are no more tables.

There are no more chairs.

Nothing.

Just me, Rick and Daryl's dead body.

I killed Daryl Dixon.

Rick looks at me with a look of pure hatred, his features a mask of contempt.

“It's all your fault, Summer.You killed him.You killed us all the moment you came into our lives.I won't kill you” he whispers placing his gun in the back pocket of his jeans, “You deserve to live with this weight in your heart.This is what you deserve”

Saying this, the man turns his back on me and disappears surrounded by darkness.

I open my eyes suddenly, the harsh light of the sun hurts my weak eyes.

From my lips a string of stuttered words ring out in the air as hands grab me by the shoulders.

Instinctively I avoid it by curling up, pressing my back against a cold wall.

“It's me, Summer” Carol's voice, soft but with a hint of panic, pierces the fog that clouds my brain, finally making me aware of where I am.

“Where's Daryl?” I pant, hugging my knees to my chest as my shoulders rise and fall furiously matching with my heartbeat.

“Summer-”

“Where's Daryl!” I shout, interrupting the woman.

I don't want to hear or know anything.

I just want to know if he's okay.

I need to know.

Carol doesn't seem scared by my reaction, in fact her expression softens and, smiling sweetly at me, she whispers “Daryl is fine.Do you want me to go look for him?”

“No.No.Don't!” I chirp in agony like a wounded animal.

Carol nods as she sits on the bed next to me waiting patiently for me to calm down.

And I swear, I swear to God, that no matter how hard I try, my heartbeat doesn't slow down.

The air struggles more and more to reach my lungs, my chest tightens more and more until it becomes impossible for me to breathe.

Daryl is fine.

I didn't kill Daryl Dixon.

I blink rapidly trying to free my eyes from the tears that are gathering in them at the memory of the nightmare I just experienced.

It all seemed so real.

Daryl lifeless body.

His blood on my hands.

The anger in Rick's eyes.

You killed us all the moment you came into our lives.

A sob racks my chest.

“Summer everything is fine, it was just a nightmare” Carol whispers without moving closer.

I can see the struggle in her eyes as she tries to keep her hands still in her lap fighting her own instinct to come closer and hug me.

She knows she can't do it because she is aware of the rejection that would follow from me.

For the last two days I have rejected anyone who has tried to approach me.

The disappointment and rejection on my friends' faces is seared into my mind.

I shouted unrepeatable things at them with the sole intention of distancing them from me.

Because I don't deserve their compassion.

I don't deserve their love.

But despite everything Carol was the only one who didn't give up on me.

While the others accepted my repeated refusals with death in their hearts, she remained by my side.

She remained by my side, sometimes talking to me about what was happening and sometimes simply remaining silent.

Silent but constantly present.

Just like right now.

I immediately look down, full of guilt.

“What are you doing here?” I mutter arrogantly.

Maybe if I'm mean enough she'll let me go too.

Carol shrugs in response to my question, her gaze focusing on a spot in the field outside the vehicle following something with interest.

I risk a glance in the same direction as her and my gaze comes across the subject of my nightmare.

Daryl.

A small, shaky sigh slips from my lips.

Daryl is fine.

I didn't kill Daryl Dixon.

The man walks with his head down, shoulders hunched as he rubs his knuckles.

As if he felt my gaze on him, his eyes moved from his hands to rest on my face.

It all lasts a moment.

Just enough time to register his expression.

The same eyes that looked at me with passion and devotion just 48 hours ago are now full of hatred.

Anger.

Wrath.

I look down, squeezing my knees even tighter against my chest.

“Talk to him, Summer”

“Mind your business, Carol”

I regret my words immediately after I say them but I bite my tongue until I taste the iron taste of my own blood to avoid letting slip out the apologies I would like to make to my friend.

I know I'm cruel but what they don't know is that I want to push them away from me for their own good.

You killed us all the moment you came into our lives.

The words that Rick spoke to me in my dream now seem more true than ever and push me towards the same decision I should have made from the beginning.

I shouldn't have let these people get attached to me.

I shouldn't have left my heart free to become attached to them.

To fall in love with him.

Carol snorts in amusement as she stands up.

Surprised by her reaction, I force my gaze to follow her movements and focus on her face.

And even though she's smiling I can clearly see the nervousness in his stiff figure.

“I know what you're doing, Summer” she accuses me, piercing me with her gaze.

“You can push me away like you did to everyone else.Like you did with Daryl.But know that it doesn't work with me.I will be here for you when you'll be ready”

Ignoring my broken heart I shrug feigning indifference even though every single word she said pierced my soul like sharp pins.

No matter how bitchy or mean I am she will never give up on me.

“Whatever” I whisper.

Carol shakes her head as she walks towards the door of the RV but before leaving she whispers my name.

The woman turns her back on me indifferently but her hand tightened around the door jamb reveals all her nervousness, the white knuckles seem to want to pop out from her skin.

“You asked me not to give up…and no matter how hard it is, I'm trying.I’m really trying”

The tremble in her voice makes me shiver.

A sense of shame pervades me making me truly aware of the wickedness with which I treated this poor woman who has just lost her little girl.

“Now I'm the one asking you not to give up.Don't give up, Summer.If you give up I will lose you.Don't do this to me”

And with these last heavy words Carol walks away.

I was there for her.

She's holding on for me.

Now she's here for me.

And I'm slamming the door in her face.

I am a monster.

I smile disgusted with myself.

After all, I already knew that, right?

I'm a monster.

Just like him.

Suddenly the RV becomes suffocating.

If until a few minutes ago this place seemed like a safe refuge to me, now its walls seem to tighten around me, taking my breath away.

Without knowing where to go I force my body to move, if I stay closed in here for another minute I feel like I could die.

The sun outside hits my clear eyes, making me hiss.

Having spent too much time locked in the RV crying has made me lose touch with reality, with what is happening around me.

I've wallowed in my guilt for so long that I've lost sight of everything else.

I can't cope with what I did.

This is what I can't stand.

I know I had to do it but that doesn't give me relief.

I would never let anything happen to my friends and yet that sense of discomfort continues to haunt me.

I killed a human being before he could kill me.

Or Rick.

Or Glenn.

Or Hersel.

Killing so as not to be killed.

It's the new law.

Even if it's not right.

Out of the corner of my eye I notice a figure in front of the barn's door.

Andrea.

The woman has a rifle with her, she will surely be guarding the new prisoner.

With a determined step I reach her, passing by her without even looking at her.

I don't know why I came here but it certainly isn't to get lost in idle chatter with her.

When the palm of my hand rests on the barn's door, her voice behind me halts my next step.

“I can't let you in” the woman exclaims, earning a derisive laugh from me.

I can feel her agitated movements behind me, her weight sliding from one foot to the other.

“Yeah, sure.What will you do?Do you want to shoot me?Again?” I mock her by opening the barn's door and closing it behind me.

I'm sorry to be so bitchy and point out something that's now past my mind but at the moment I don't take orders from anyone.

Much less from the woman who shot me.

The place is in dim light.

Randall sits on the floor with his arms tied behind his back, the rope securing his wrists tightened tightly around a wooden pole.

He's blindfolded.

I smile bitterly.

A week ago I was in the same situation as him.

I carefully watch his figure stiffen and from his swollen face I'm sure he expects to be beaten again.

And judging by the extent of the damage, I'm sure it was Daryl.

I approach the trembling boy and with a quick move I free him from the blindfold and then stand in front of him with my arms crossed over my chest.

“I won't hurt you, Randall” I whisper.

“How's your leg?” I ask sincerely worried about the state of it.

The flesh is red and the limb is swollen.

He's really lucky to still be alive.

The boy doesn't seem relieved that there is a simple girl in front of him, he lets out a trembling breath.

“What is it, psychological torture?Did they send you to get me to talk?Well, I'll tell you what I already told to your boyfriend.I barely knew those guys.I met ’em on the road.I haven't done anything!”

“My boyfriend?” I ask confused.

Why would he believe that Rick and I are somehow connected by a feeling of love?

Randall trembles as if he's remembering something really scary.

“Yeah…that huge man with a scary look.He…he said he would break my neck if I ever looked in the same direction as you again” he chirps with a grimace of pain.

Daryl?

Did he really threaten him like this?

I shake my head smiling interrupting his flow of words.

I don't waste time correcting him, it would be useless and it wouldn't be his business anyway.

I walk over to the chair next to him and drag it across the old wooden planks I place it in front of him.

Remaining silent, I sit down and continue to observe the boy.

“No one sent me here.Nobody knows I'm here.I just want to have a chat.Relax”

But at my words he doesn't relax.

He straightens his back, moving away as much as possible, moving away until his back hits the wooden planks of the walls.

“It was me” I begin, immediately capturing his interest.

“I was the one who killed your friend.Tony”

“He…he wasn't my friend…”

I silence him with a sharp wave of my hand.

I'm not interested in finding out his relationships with those guys, I just want him to understand that if he doesn't cooperate with us he won't have much chance of survival.

I lean forward placing my elbows on my knees.

“Listen to me Randall.I don't want anything to happen to you but you have to help us.If those guys you ended up with are dangerous you need to tell us.There are women and children here” I explain nodding towards the door, “We can't risk it”

The boy looks at me furtively, not entirely convinced by my words.

After all, he was beaten to death, why should he believe the good faith in my words?

“I hate myself for what I did.Even though that son of a bitch was about to put a bullet in my head I hate myself for pulling that damn trigger.I- I- I…” I stammer, unable to continue.

I close my eyes for a moment trying to calm my agitated breathing.

My back hits the back of the chair hard as I bring my hands to my hair, pulling it forcefully from the roots.

Randall doesn't speak, which gives me time to gather the right words in my confused brain.

I reopen my eyes to find the boy attentive, his eyes watchful on my face.

I'm sure he can sense the turmoil stirring inside me and this perhaps makes me a little more credible in his eyes.

“I hate what I did but I would do it again.For these people I would do it again.Even at the cost of losing my soul in the end.Do you…do you understand this?”

Randall nods.

“Good boy.Now you'll tell me where your camp is and above all you'll tell me if you think they will come looking for you” I whisper trying to soften my tone but letting all the seriousness shine through my words.

“They…they…”

His confession is abruptly interrupted by the barn's doors which open and slam violently against the walls, the deafening noise reverberates throughout the entire room, immediately silencing the boy.

I don't need to turn around to know who he is.

Randall's literally terrified look is enough for me to understand who has just made his triumphant entrance.

“I- I- I don't…she's...” stammers the poor boy, lowering his head and curling up in a ball as if he were trying to disappear from the face of the earth.

“Shut the fuck up!” Daryl barks and after a moment his huge hand wraps around my upper arm forcing me to stand up, dragging and yanking me violently out of the barn

Outside, next to the door, Andrea keeps her head down.

I smile.

That woman never knows when it's time to keep her mouth shut.

Daryl drags me a few more steps, his grip on my arm hurts but I won't give him the satisfaction of telling him that.

If this is how he wants to vent his anger on me, I won't stop him.

When we get close to his tent he lets me go.

For a few minutes neither of us speaks.

He paces back and forth, angry like a caged lion.

I limit myself to leaning with my back against the trunk of a tree waiting for the man to find the right words to vomit all his frustration on me.

Suddenly I find him a few inches from my face, his eyes full of resentment.

I never imagined that one day all his anger would be for me.

But after all I deserve it.

I rejected him.

I put him in these conditions.

It was what I wanted after all, wasn't it?

So now I will accept the consequences.

“Wha’ the hell were ya doin’ in there?” he spits the words between his teeth.

His fists trembles.

I smile with the intention of making him nervous.

And I succeed.

A muscle in his jaw twitches dangerously.

“Oh, you mean before you interrupted his full confession?”

My words full of sarcasm seem to catch him off guard.

His attentive gaze studies every part of my face.

His lips are a hard straight line.

“Ain't possible.I beat the shit out of him, doesn't say anything”

I shake my head pushing a hand against his chest trying to push him away.

Having him so close distracts me.

His lips a few inches from mine don't allow me to think clearly.

Daryl stiffens at my touch, taking a few steps back.

Roger.

He doesn't want to be touched by me.

This hurts but it's what I wanted.

I want him to hate me, I want him to despise me so it will be easier to let him go.

It will be easier to distance myself from him.

Liar...

I shake my head to get rid of my conflicting feelings.

“You know, violence is not always the answer” I mock him, nodding towards his skinned knuckles.

Daryl lets out a grunt that could mean anything.

His eyes remain fixed on his boots, the man is clearly avoiding my gaze.

And maybe it's for the best.

This gives me enough courage to be able to speak to him.

“Will you kill him?”

The archer nods without looking at me.

My stomach knots.

“It's simpler tha’ way.’S safer” he mutters, absentmindedly kicking some blades of grass.

I can't help myself.

“Simple?Is killing another human being so easy for you?”

I can't hide the disgust in my words and it finally gets his attention.

His blue eyes, the same eyes I had come to know and love, now seem foreign to me.

There is a coldness in them that I don't recognize.

His eyes, what's behind them, scare me now.

An almost mocking smile stains his handsome face.

“And wha’ would ya like to do, huh?Leave him free ta bring his people here?Is tha’ wha’ ya wan’?”

His words are laced with venom as he looks at me as if he thinks I'm a fucking stupid naive.

I shake my head.

No, he can't be serious.

“You're not like that” I whisper, “You wouldn't kill someone in cold blood.You are a good man”

The archer approaches me again, invading my personal space.

His breath shatters on my lips.

Breath that tastes like tobacco.

Like stolen kisses.

Like whispered promises.

“Really?Do ya really think ya know me?Do ya really think tha’ having kissed me a couple of times makes ya think ya know me?” he laughs evilly, “Well, listen ta me, Summer”

Summer.

Not pretty eyes.

Not sunshine.

Not my sunshine.

Summer.

If he had shot me I would have suffered less.

I lower my gaze, hiding from his eyes how much his words hurt me.

You deserve it.You deserve it, and you know this, a corner of my conscience murmurs.

Two fingers under my chin force me to look up again.

Daryl is punishing me and he knows it.

And he enjoys it.

“Ya don't know me.Yer nobody.Yer nobody ta me, Summer”

A tear escapes my control, sliding silently down my cheek towards my chin, wetting the fingertips of the man in front of me.

A man who looks at me like I'm scum on this planet.

I abruptly free myself from his grip, moving away from him as quickly as possible, but no matter how much I run away, his words haunt me.

This.

This is the right punishment for what I did.

“Hey”

“How are you?”

I shrug.

At this moment I really don't know what to answer.

How am I?

I feel like shit but this man already knows, he was there.

“Yeah” Hersel murmurs, sitting next to me on the porch steps of his house.

“It's not an easy situation” he whispers, leaning forward and resting his arms on his knees.

I imitate his gesture and raise my face towards the sky.

“How's Beth?”

“My girl is strong.She will be okay”

I smile weakly as I watch the sun sink towards the horizon.

It's my favorite part of the day.

I love when the clouds are tinged with fiery red, fading towards warm orange and delicate pink.

The sunlight that slowly hides on the horizon creates a play of reflections and shadows, making this land magical and evocative.

The outline of the trees appears black and mysterious against the vibrant sky.

It is a moment of peace and beauty, when the day gives way to the dark and captivating night.

“Where is everyone else?” I ask without taking my eyes off this spectacle that nature is giving us.

Between death and desolation, Mother Nature has found a way to reclaim the world and make it its own again.

“They're gathering to decide Randall's future” he sighs.

Behind his deliberately light tone I can read a myriad of conflicting feelings.

“You should be there too, give your opinion.A lot of those people respect you, you know that right?”

I smile, turning my gaze towards his face.

His blue eyes are staring at me intently.

“Not all of them, I'd say” I reply, wrinkling my nose, thinking of Shane.

That guy hates me.

Well, Daryl hates me too now.

Hersel laughs.

“Okay, maybe not all of them” he smiles, “But you are very respected.I respect you”

I blink in amazement.

Hersel is a good, intelligent and terribly wise man, having his respect moves me.

“Thank you” I whisper, feeling a lump in my throat.

The good vet gently places a hand on my shoulder, silently communicating his affection for me.

“You know, I keep thinking about what you said to me when we were in that bar.You were right, there is still hope.I had just lost my way...but thanks to you, to your words, I understood how important it is to fight for what you love.For those who love”

I look back towards the sky where the first stars begin to timidly illuminate it.

“I was a bitch, Hersel.With all of them.None of them deserve it but I didn't care, I hurt the feelings of the people who welcomed me” I whisper, torturing the tip of my index finger between my teeth.

“They know it, Summer.Nobody's mad at you” the man tries to console me by smiling at me again in a reassuring manner after which he gets up and then goes up the steps that lead him towards the door of his house.

“Hersel?”

“Tell me”

“Do you agree with this?” I ask, turning to him.

His dull and tired look gives me the answer I'm looking for.

“No but…but I have to keep my daughters safe”

“I understand”

A heavy silence envelops us as we peer at each other.

Sometimes we have to do what is right for the good of those we love, we have to make decisions that leave an indelible mark on our soul.

Like the decision to kill another human being.

“I feel like I'm losing myself, Hersel.What I did…what I did to that man…I feel like I can't bear the weight of my choice.And this…this is hurting people who don't deserve it”

He watches me for a few seconds then comes closer and sits next to me again.

“Would you do it again?”

My answer comes before my brain can process his question.

“No doubt.I would never let anything happen to you”

“But?” he urges me.

I sigh, straightening my back and directing my gaze towards the far edges of the farm.

“But that doesn't change the fact that I took a life.What right do I have to choose who should live and who should die?”

Tony and Dave got what they deserved.

I can't even imagine what they would have done if they had found the farm, what would have happened next.

Hersel next to me sighs, placing a hand on my shoulder.

“You and Rick saved my life.You protected this farm and my family.I'm not saying it's easy or right...I'm just saying that the death of those men didn't represent a loss for this world”

“But having killed them make us so different from them?”

The words burn on my tongue as I speak them.

This is my biggest fear.

Did my action make me soulless?

Have I now become like one of those men?

“Summer, you're not like them.You are full of love, honor.You…listen to me for a moment.Rick killed that man.In your eyes is he like those men?”

And in an instant everything is clearer.

All clearer.

For me, Rick remains a man of strong moral, a good man.

A charitable man.

And the fact that he pulled the trigger on those despicable bastards doesn't change my opinion of him.

I still see a model to follow in him.

His apparently cruel gesture has a much greater motivation behind it.

Protect his people.

The same motivation that pushed me to pull the trigger.

The same motivation that pushed me to move forward day after day.

Don't give up for the people I love.

I didn't give up to make my mother proud of me.

I endured for my father's love.

I fought for myself, to survive.

And now I fight for these people.

For Glenn.

For Carol.

For Rick.

For Daryl.

For everyone of them.

I tried to push everyone away out of fear, out of fear of being seen as a monster.

My hands will never be clean again, Tony's blood will always be there like a ghost between my fingers, but this will be my new starting point.

Now I know how much further I am willing to go to keep my loved ones safe.

Now I know my place.

Now I know what to fight for.

And I know I can do it, hell yes I can!

I nod, silently wiping away my tears with the back of my hand.

“Thank you” I whisper in a strangled voice.

“Anytime”

Hersel gives me one last squeeze on my shoulder after which he gets up and disappears into the house.

“Killing him.Right?”

It's Dale's voice that reaches me first when I finally decide to enter the house.

Hesitantly I stop my steps, again undecided whether to assist or not.

I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans trying to calm the pounding of my heart.

“I mean, why bother to even take a vote?It's clear which way the wind's blowing” continues the man.

His words are followed by a brief moment of silence.

Taking courage, I advance until I find the others in front of me.

The first people to notice me are Carol and Shane.

The first gives me a smile of encouragement while the man looks at me briefly and then returns his gaze to his best friend.

As soon as I turned the corner that will lead me among the others I notice a man next to me.

Daryl is leaning with one shoulder against the wall and his gaze remains focused in front of him.

I am sure that he has noticed my presence as I am sure that he is deliberately ignoring me.

I can tell by the stiffness of his back and his nervously clicking jaw.

“I was there.Before him.I was in his place” I whisper in a faint voice, my stomach tightening in a grip of pain at the thought that the same people who care about me now were not long ago gathered in the same way to decide my fate.

Who knows how many of them agreed to get rid of me.

I feel everyone's eyes immediately focus on my figure.

Especially Shane's eyes.

I wonder if he still wants to get rid of me.

Trying to clear my mind of all thoughts, I try to focus on our common goal.

The safety of this place.

“I too was a stranger like him”

“It's not the same, Sum.You didn't try to kill us" Glenn blurts out, immediately softening his gaze, perhaps happy that I've come to my senses.

I walk towards him, leaving Daryl behind me.

I place a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it lightly, hoping that in my eyes he will see all the silent apologies I am offering him.

His hand immediately reaches mine.

Good, we are good again.

“Well, if people believe we should spare him, I wanna know.Then we can talk through the options” Rick continues, looking into the eyes of every single person in the room and finally focusing on me, giving me a faint smile which I shyly return.

I'm happy that they're not mad at me, that they're not mad at me for my horrible behavior.

I drove them away by hurting them and they are welcoming me back with open arms.

“Well, where I sit, there's only one way to move forward” Shane murmurs.

His intentions are more than clear.

Dale becomes agitated.

“So…that's how it is then!Just Summer, Glenn and I agree that we should spare him?”

The man looks really incredulous as he nervously runs a hand over his face.

Glenn squirms lightly under my touch, looking nervous when Dale rests his gaze on him for support.

On the old man's face I perceive the exact moment in which he realizes that his friend is also turning his back on him.

“Look, I…” the boy stutters, “I think you’re pretty much right about everything, all the time, but this…”

“They’ve got you scared” Dale replies nervously, silencing Glenn who now full of guilt lowers his gaze onto his hands, gripped with an iron grip on his thighs.

“We've already lost too many people” Glenn mutters more to himself than to the others.

Dale sighs in frustration.

“How about you?Do you agree with this?” questions the man addressed to me.

I feel everyone's gaze on me but what weighs most is the gaze of the man behind me, I can feel his eyes digging a hole of anger on my shoulders.

“Can't we keep him prisoner?”

“Jus’ another mouth ta feed”

I knew it.

I fucking knew that Daryl would go against me.

I expected it but that doesn't make it hurt any less.

Not having his support, as he has always done, hurts.

It really hurts.

“It may be a lean winter” I suggest just for the sake of contradicting him and in fact a few moments later I hear him snort and whisper some profanity under his breath.

“It could be an asset.Give him a chance to prove himself” suggests Dale trying to find a foothold in someone's conscience.

“Put him to work?” Glenn suggests, being immediately silenced by Daryl.

“Ain't lettin’ him walk ’round.’S not safe”

If we keep going like this we'll never find a solution but only problem after problem.

Carol has kept me updated these days, despite my apparent disinterest in the whole thing.

She told me how Rick and Shane tried to leave Randall away from the farm but then turned back because the boy admitted he recognized the Green's farm.

“Could you drive him further out?Leave him like you planned” I ask turning to Rick.

“They barely came back this time.There are walkers.They could break down.They could get lost” Lori explains to me next to Rick, shaking her head terrified at the idea that something could happen to her husband.

“We could put an escort on him” Maggie suggests.

Shane shakes his head smiling as if he's just listening to a bunch of bullshit.

“Oh yeah…and who would volunteer?” he asks rhetorically, immediately blocking Dale's prompt response with a wave of his hand.

“I don't think any of us should be walking around with this guy.Let me tell you something, man.Say we let him join us, right?Maybe he's helpful, maybe he's nice.We let our guard down and maybe he runs off, brings back his 30 men”

Strangely I find myself agreeing with Shane's words.

We can't risk that much but I still feel reluctant to accept the idea of killing the boy.

“So the answer is to kill him to prevent a crime that he may never even attempt?If we do this, we're saying there's no hope.Rule of law is dead.There is no civilization”

This time Dale's disappointment is well marked in his desperate words.

His gaze is haunted and incredulous.

I understand what he is feeling.

These are the same questions I've been asking myself over the last few days.

The same questions that poisoned my mind day and night.

Ever since I killed that man I have done nothing but wonder if it had been the right thing to do.

Whether civilization is truly over.

No laws, just the strongest winning over the weakest.

But today, among all these people, I know that it was worth it.

It was worth losing a little piece of my soul if it meant we were all still here today.

Here and alive.

I sigh deeply.

“He's right, Dale.We should not put our own people at risk”

“Really?You too?How can you…”

“I can because I was there.In that bar.I was there.You weren't there.I pulled that damn trigger.I killed that man just to keep you safe, to protect all of you.And if you think that everyone here is taking it lightly, you're wrong.You are wrong.You don't know…you don't know…you don't know what it feels like to kill.You don't know what it feels like to lose a piece of yourself.You…you don't know…”

The words get stuck in my throat creating a ball of pain and desperation impossible to swallow.

A trickle of sweat runs down my spine.

Everything I suffocated is coming back to the surface exploding in a myriad of words soaked in anger and pain.

“I understand your reticence but you have to think about these people” I continue ignoring the pity in the eyes of those present, “Those men are thieves, murderers, rapists.And if you think that Rick or Shane or I will ever let those guys get close to us, you're sorely mistaken.You may not agree but we must do what is right for us.For our safety”

I stop for a moment, breathing heavily.

Revealing my fears to everyone, what I've been living in my head for days, isn't easy but it's the only way to make Dale understand how dangerous his idea is.

In response, the man shakes his head in total disagreement with my words, only increasing my anger.

How can he be so blind that he can't see?

I had come here with good intentions, to be able to look for a point of mediation.

But there is not.

Glenn is right.

We have to think about our safety.

I quickly approach the man, standing in front of him with fury.

“Think about what would happen to Andrea.To Beth.To Amy.What do you think those men would do to any woman here?You know how those two guys in town looked at me, huh?Can you understand how I felt with their gazes ruminating on my body?Would you ever let something like this happen to Lori?To Maggie?Think about it Dale.Our choices will impact us.I agree when you say that we must not lose ourselves but we cannot do it at the expense of our own lives”

A shiver runs down my spine making the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

The memory of Dave's gaze on my body, his slimy hand groping his crotch.

Their thoughts were so vivid, so disgusting…

I will never let another woman feel the same sense of inadequacy and horror that I felt.

Dale no longer looks me in the eyes, his gaze is fixed on the hat that he tortures between his fingers.

This time my words hit the mark.

Perhaps for the first time he's realizing how dangerously senseless his idea is.

Around us no one speaks, it seems that everyone is holding their breath.

Too shocked by my own outburst, I quickly leave the room, leaving the house and finding peace in the dark night, the stars made almost invisible by large threatening clouds.

From afar the wind brings with it the smell of rain which I am sure will soon reach us.

Trying to control my breathing, I rest my arms on the balustrade, inhaling and exhaling slowly.

The cool breeze blowing in the air refreshes my hot skin, giving me pleasant shivers.

The door creaks behind me forcing me to turn around.

Shane looks at me while he nervously runs a hand over his shaved head and then leans his back against the wall, bringing his arms in front of his chest and crossing them.

“You know?It may seem crazy to you but I agree with what you said” he snorts amused, lifting a corner of his lips.

I smile too, leaning my back against the balustrade and stretching my legs in front of me, crossing them at the ankles.

I also cross my arms over my chest, as if trying to keep all my shit together.

“I'll tell you, man.I thought the same thing before.Disgusting, isn't it?” I reply and this time a real smile spreads across Shane's face.

For a moment I get a little glimpse of who Shane really was before all this shit.

Maybe, if we had met in another life, we could have even become friends.

Maybe.

Shane shakes his head and turns serious.

“I'm sorry for what you went through” he whispers, looking at me furtively from under his thick dark lashes.

I roll my eyes.

He snorts.

“I'm serious!Look…I know what you think about me.I know what others think.And I know I have a fucking temper but all I want is for everyone to be safe.Do you understand me?”

Yes, I understand that.

I understand this all too well.

“I know” I snort letting out a big sigh.

“We want the same thing, Shane”

“I know…are you with me?” the man asks, detaching himself from the wall with a light push and taking a few steps closer to me.

I watch him carefully as he holds out his hand.

Hesitant I straighten my back, carefully studying every nuance of his face but in the end I accept his hold.

His hand wraps around mine, squeezing it tightly.

“We're good, kid?”

That sly smile again.

I laugh heartily.

“Yeah.We’re good, asshole”

Shane laughs shaking his head without letting go of my hand.

“Do you know?” I murmur amused, taking my hand out of his grip and putting them in the pockets of my jeans, “I feel like I just made a deal with the devil”

Shane laughs again, triggering more laughter from me.

“Fuck you, kid”

This time his words aren't full of anger.

“I love you too, Shane” I giggle.

The door behind us opens again and this time Daryl appears in the doorway.

For a moment he seems dumbfounded.

Honestly, I would be too if I were him.

Finding me and Shane laughing together, the same people who until a few days ago were ready to kill each other, is not easy to understand.

After a moment of confusion, the man regains his composure by assuming that serious and inscrutable frown again.

Shane clears his throat, interrupting the exchange of glances between me and the archer.

“I'll leave you two alone.See you around, kid” he greets me as he walks towards his tent.

Daryl and I stare at each other intently for moments that seem endless.

In the twilight of this starless night silence envelops our tumultuous hearts.

As stiff and inexpressive as the man in front of me is, I am sure that there is chaos inside him, the same deafening chaos that overshadows my heart and my mind.

Cold words and sharp looks are the only things we exchanged and now I feel regret creeping down my stomach making me nauseous.

“Daryl, I…”

“Do ya wan’ to go fer a walk?”

I blink in disbelief, my heart beating deafeningly in an undefined point between my stomach and my throat.

I nod weakly, walking alongside him while a few drops of water fall from the sky, wetting the tip of my nose.

In the thick darkness of the night our steps resonate like the echo of my broken heart.

Pushing these people away, pushing Daryl away, was the stupidest thing I could have done.

I convinced myself that I didn't deserve their love, and maybe a small part of me still thinks so, but I...I need them.

I need him.

He is the only person who can heal my wounds.

The unspoken words weigh me down making me feel like I'm drowning in an ocean of regrets.

Perhaps the time has come to confess in one last hope of redemption.

Maybe my apologies will never be enough, maybe he won't accept them, but it will still be a new beginning.

A new beginning with or without him.

Because even if he rejects me I will continue to move forward for everyone else.

For Carol, for Rick, for Glenn.

For myself.

Our steps slowly make us find ourselves at the edge of the forest, the rain now slides through the leaves and the wind whispers through the branches.

I shudder, shrugging my shoulders.

I stop my steps and so does Daryl.

I stare at his immense shoulders as the man inhales deeply and then sags as if he's struggling with something in his head.

“Daryl…I'm sorry for how I acted.I…”

“Why do ya push me away?” the man interrupts me, continuing to turn his back on me.

With a little courage I approach him, with slow and measured steps I move until I find myself in front of him.

His sad eyes are focused on the ground.

With a pang in my heart I hesitantly bring a hand to his face, slowly stroking it until I wrap my hand around his cheek.

His stubble tickles my hand pleasantly.

God, how much I had missed touching him.

I bring my other hand in the same position on the other cheek forcing the man to look at me.

“I was scared”

“Scared?Of me?”

I shake my head.

“I was afraid of what you would see in me” I whisper in defeat.

Distant thunder shakes the sky.

Daryl directs his gaze, now confident, into mine.

His hands reach mine, intertwining our fingers.

I swallow the lump in my throat.

“I killed a man, Daryl.I felt like a monster...I had to do it, I had to.And now I- I- I...I no longer feel I deserve you... I rejected you because I feared your own rejection” I admit, lowering my gaze.

The archer lowers his face towards mine, seeking my gaze, aligning his face with mine.

His eyes, so young and yet full of a pain as old as the world, look straight into mine.

I shyly look up at his beautiful face, the light rain that slides through the leaves stops as if trapped between his eyelashes.

Small pearls of water that make his gaze even more intense.

Hypnotized by such wonder, I remain motionless, paralyzed waiting for his words.

The rain falls incessantly now, as if the sky itself wanted to wash away the guilt that surrounds me.

The leaves of the trees form an irregular roof over us, stopping the pouring rain and turning it into a graceful ticking over our heads.

The moon's dim light occasionally breaks through the clouds, illuminating just enough for us to see each other.

The more I observe him, the more I realize how this man is an enigma, one of those men who seem to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.

With a look that hides more than it reveals.

I can't understand what he thinks, what he feels...

But I know one thing.

I understood it perhaps the moment our eyes met for the first time.

I love him.

I love him with a passion that burns inside me.

I love him with a passion that keeps me up at night.

Yet, I'm scared.

I'm afraid to tell him.

Fear for a thousand different reasons but above all because I killed a human being.

A man who had to die.

I did what I had to do but I still feel like a monster.

And I don't want him to see that monster.

I don't want him to discover that perhaps that monster has always been inside me, dormant, waiting to resurface and claw at my heart.

“Ya not a monster, ma’ beautiful sunshine”

And suddenly it's as if I were able to breathe again after having remained underwater for an indefinite time.

My lungs expand again, welcoming once again his sweet musky scent made more intense by the rain.

“I'm sorry Daryl.I'm so sorry.Please, forgive me.Please.I was so scared” I burst into tears, burying my face in the crook of his neck, my hands clinging tightly to his broad and welcoming chest.

And so, under the steady rain, with the leaves as a carpet and the scent of wet earth, I hold myself close to my persona.

No words are needed because my breathing, the frenetic beating of my heart, my fingers forcefully squeezing his shirt speak for me.

His arms that slowly envelop me are absolution for all my sins.

Daryl is my refuge, my forgiveness.

His strong hands caress my back in an attempt to calm the sobs that tear through my chest like thunder rumbling in the sky above us.

His fingers gently wrap around my face, his thumbs dry the tears that run down it with a disarming sweetness.

“I got ya, sunshine.Ya remember?I have yer back.Always.Ya ain't a monster.Yer my light, yer my hope” whispers the archer, blowing the words on my parted lips.

He, with his eyes still marked by the storm of incomprehension, comes closer and closer, silently asking for my permission.

With trembling hands and my heart beating painfully against my rib cage I finally close the distance between our lips.

In the precise moment of contact with his warm and familiar lips the world stops, disappearing, leaving only the two of us at the exact center of the universe.

Now there is only our synchronized breathing, only the beating of two hearts that are reconciled.

His velvety tongue dances with mine, exploring every corner of my mouth.

A kiss that tastes of forgiveness, of desire, of love.

Words are useless.

My hands touch the back of his neck making him vibrate, clinging to his hair as if I wanted to hold on to this moment forever.

More tears now fall down my face, mixing with the cold rain, but this time they are tears of joy.

Daryl pulls away just enough to look me in the eyes.

“I missed ya” he whispers, kissing me again, this time just a gentle brush of lips.

There are no more words to say, only the warmth of our embrace and the silent promise to never leave each other again.

This kiss is our truce, our new beginning.

Squeezed in Daryl's arms I realize that together we can face any storm because our feeling is stronger than any misunderstanding.

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libidomechanica · 11 months

Text

“To favour lose all, and many deathes full Easter”

A curtal sonnet sequence

And maids arranged along, like honey Bee, working her so well express explicitly our several posts, my friend. About the fatal shore! Thus, in a curse. Or is the witness Corahs place forsooke, but be no longer flow of your willow-bough, distinguished by the day I wrote down. Yet, if thou dost stay! To favour lose all, and many deathes full Easter. In her neck did crawl, and shot of every pangs. Done but in the dead?

But Fortune deal, rolled above. To lead my life, and Gills and far better parts; they view’d such taking, for nothing upon earth and Honour won, all proper less; On a sudden thee; that oppressed with sighes her form they ever be; I will keep their Delhis manna pick’d from me where the dove without my Leave me from shape, and the Past. Can strange, the freshness of the low: for Soveraign power supplies: no Court he practices turtle.

Resembling heart of Ida: they punish a Body which your pains may only made to sit. Sweet voices of a night-fowl crow: the clouds to heare, may show the flower and so we forged a secret oar and faded marigolds, fell sleek about their memory kept alive, and where be lou’d by me, an exil’d mortal lair, seeing, blessings indeed. He heard, the horse louder, and her mind is pure. In the Court remov’d: then day resign.

To be a butchery, to serve the pine- grown Latmian listen to each one looked rare with blood and stumbling the souls in its benumbing round her forever, because I take my branches sway, thrugh you know no such a mourning prayses yet burn through the crowd, and looking back to the coming stony helm, and the obscene. Heroes—and suck for Nutriment throw, entering time; for Priests the magistrate Vulgar, passes o’r, and mistakes.

Thou shalt not broken? Just stand; and thus whispering bid me fear; above this post, I may in terms of the linnets I with souls resolved so. Demands a man; love taught Jerusalem, Shimei was all ruby ring the glenne: so now fayre eyes I neuer shall dwell; only true mistresses trim her demeanors motion, as Mars in this reverend gentle greet with poetic voice reverberates in my verse could I then but she sente me.

His Frame coud bear: had God or Devil. Until The Sage behold, that foreign churches— I see her sandal, amber, ancient Honour and forest told it in the minstrels, and glowing then, to Alienate the daylight who plann’d alone, and leave me not vex, with sails decline and live! Or how can we write good words, nor hast thought: she liked an error like the sons of steel us as they had left alone for to their vessels side by side.

The slain, with dewy locks, and camp saluted with sword decided to get through his course as Samuel used to think one Sheaf did bide: till China and Africa meet, and mouldering at their vessel strongly it repayre. You thumbed, thrust, patted and drizling dross the man lounges two steps down in Russian story: all injustice thunderer’s beard; where no means had been bless you with turrets crown’d with ioy to sorrow sped life’s far awa.

How can you were wound there vnseene, thought t’embroil the same face, nor dares resist. Bene the sky, and the multitudinous billows murmured, sown with golden shield of asphodel, the fool confined; rude work boots. A Vitious Youth, by the thundered at me moved the flower and then lets you shalt—as now. Lo! As I walked out lykewise I have mark’d each big approached; if force me liue and meeknesse greater glory! Storm and chaunge of weapons fly.

I was abandoned. And then my tears must not be so: for who was left bank, with decorous sneer, point of a birth require; prevent, that he fashion to Reb ell. And, whence it was the should grow light-headed, I fear, if thou dost thou hast but with necks stretching from dawn to the poor mans wealthy, with him, whose star, that look on the lost it for Rebellion may know all things I never Ceases to bend, which ripen’d Eden’s fruit; for war.

You are mirror’d shields, far-piercing eye, robert Burns: there he turn’d on all her blow, have ye e’er light his Darling, my darkling eye, robert Burns: know it. My earth haue fedd. Like a Miss America Contest. I sleep he lay, If it be quick sharp enough to cure thy fountain stood prepared of seeming Friends disguised in a yeelded pray: yet euen whylst her wayes this shalt be, art, alone. Thy fancies wonderment. Whiles to beare onward it flies.

Not mine a little storme beaten hart likewise art lyttle made, was liberties a spoil with hints of the grounds to their head, ye roses blaw in ilka beild! More fayre Elisa be your fruitfull Issue shall cling there nought but brakes and rules by bringing That ole Ace down, th’ admiring Croud his fond game, but ioy her thrives: save wed alone, the Scrificers of theyr trew obiect, the Russians now wept his own accord, and your throne?

May never know how those will to see the waters at distance should not be account I one must for you The Dells tell of day arising from it preachers say the street stall. Thy pure affections the summers exalt thee to the people, like linnets in the Mouldy rolls of the dews were in his grave never heard her choicest virgins bene, to adorne; the cliffs of Rhodes the third is neither loved but in your worth a potato.

Feeling buds, as if in your bosome lyke but vnto her even now! Listen to bless you with the love where you beside; furthermore, I will my mind, resolve on Death, or Conquest, as if it will breath; and drew the men mourners, weep again! In all they Covet makes dayly such a beauties grace? To me this posture on the other turning vessel they lead to-morrow today when from faults with the town ditch below while their attend.

Our Ark. So sad, so melancholy thunders roll, the fight recedes and the year; the Law forbore, were clawing out, mighty storm; the scorns the links of other better soundes so sweet exprest, her plump round him as forfeit faith and sing all this Numerous Progeny was none sees him an Appendix of my mother country; and all the living men at the perorations standing on the heat of her loue, when upon the plast.

Been one explain it. What is it her neste: howe haue the dove, but by his trick to poison— oh! And sighs, and earn our flocks as brooms, we did offence be known, since we leaves her tenderest proudly disobayes, and hue, together. Tossing flowers,—sighing world, by the herded elephants; nor was at least: there was endeavour this Advice above the stormy Cymon was now his blude it is to please her, none. Severe before abhorred.

And you’re not so high thoghts more than I can seuer. I shudder in the dust of dark and mourn them thus; thou canst vouchsafe the virgin light foot shone so rich old lord, and shook my heaven: other pat me frae her Dearie! His tread was Hesperean; to his Hearts. Through the Mark: for as their Enemies, his Frame, unwarily did most Rabbis Jewish Markets of changed, or like the house; but represent— these thought o’er the pearles and fox-terriers.

And the more, the peak of the burrows of the bride with vases, to pant through hidden long Procession! The bowre with silvery gauze; yea, or my offended majesty, and the shopping teares the severe chilled albatross’s white curtain of the port: if they Crack’d the blushed amazed, as meanes shall not, but don’t bring you serve? Of his spent, a mind at please; he rode all unarm’d, and Litter from a night urge the occasion to us.

The lake behight, though in the punishment. Five other thick films and my breast for stone, he stept, there was like his, a mute and uncomplain how far I toil, the first was as probably to be dress’d up, for then away, and play, and ensanguinity it bears— this tree. Darling and with a second near thy heart can tell his paces back rebounds. I never think of me and I will dare to plunge in th’ other passions warreid arre.

All injustice I may find the crack in themselves to be a butcher in her e’re. Three bands can those lips, and wide, I calmly flows the liquefaction of the North.—Great joy unto the badg which there a group of girls in circles moved. Once, as all ruby ring upon myself and grow light forth from us and Crude. Cats a pain like the mouth at this most ornament. By the universal Call, to whisperer disturb the goddess!

Had eyes brow-hidden, entered; found in hand did make theyr bayts doe hyde: so she did again! It lifts a young fellows,—o dreary, he cometh not, she said, you push and guard the tremulous-dazzling dross the less, had half impair’d flaws in former chronicle; and, sitting outside that fills three stools away likewise you were many thing, or bell at closing day. Meet mass’d in such an one. Crossed the last one, you will. From sea plains where she came.

The one which thereof immortal wrongs his old Instrument. Then faded, and fear i’ll clear song is heard the morrows? As if, athirst found, when tyrant! Mine appetite I never and to shake hands that is the kindly season scanned, and, o’er they march, a blush? In the west, the power could make me a heaven, in azure hue, ready to attack? Blight the goal of Honour blest, by new unfolding me again; around, they Curst Return.

Taught me stare, and duty to a Lawfull many a stroked my body shall the ba’, the youngest’s boat and then fair, so from presence. Spirits Bold, and died; and Cowslips, and teach us how to switch #1 with #3. Stones were as probably to be attack; or like Ormisda stood, engirt with souls might; where airy voice, he had his pale light is dreadfull stormes with their late dismay’d, within him stars to force were o’ergone, and the same full choir cries, Joy!

Those smyling looked like as many girls—sick for Nutriment then, that we two will sail before the maidens whisper, tender Lambes and brightness, my impassions weighd with wives. With shivered fair Orithea, whose ugly Scars, that makes me so divine sufficiencies these sad plights light thy widowhood, who fears before and she loved the obiect of time is heap’d Affronts have cost you. The insomniac … She could be. Draw in your distressed.

She wondered well, the Bad, turn Rebell, and grows on thy mothers bore thy comfort in his head she lay sick once, with altered Cymon was not a thirst for she-society. Lie, fisted like a ballistic mind. Love ere he a Tyrant and dangerous train, and kissing lists of much rent, for compound sweet on a gloom of branches that when i hate i look at length prevail: and summoned to trace of that didst brings peace a charnel-roof!

’Tis so, tis to Rule, for well of day, for out of him, but of Power, because I knew ye not? Sweet and provide; already we rock each other’s mind. Now the foe: the seer. Next the morne, the conscious villain fears, nor the mattock-harden’d hand, but greedinesse hunts after than like a Jugler comes. The liquefaction which stare aghast thou of me and fatal day approaches, that green-painted in a clench of callous and naiads fair.

As this tree, in notes appear; and saw but soon the principal: smooth pure and veil’d Destin’d for sense; yet in his den was said the blazon of sweeter than like, but growest in one to my touch even heroes slain; I saw him, I’ll love you, love. Lifts up his furrowes eld hath not these to look at length descried in the loue what still together, giving gently encage, that their king, in sight of tears of two Ifs in one explain it.

Beyond most fit deuize, still lords its strength awaken’d from Stella I describes, since Ariadne was a flowering tire by telling honey-thick stain that able spreads apace and long the approaches, that made the fuller day. Was it this? A prophecy: The present all: and, stand at them; and the smart. Adieu delight; because I take my powres of Grievances, two names, grew side by side; and on calming thy grace affright!

The thin Disguises of the strand of the lodging in a wintry wind blows to informer! Where the invisible cord. To our foreheads felt his part. But where Desolation of your watry bowres, that lightnings as they haue powre dicerne. Amid the shadows grim. Wits warrior’s speechless burning taught in silent deep dost fly: if thou die before to bear—but when the time, when beauty still to start, but which I should faire, full o’ care.

, For many a woodlander—pass’d to body, laid in Dante’s verse, than by the leaves me no Pretence, proclaim; his Loyalty express’d up, for this my lover&for any being caught in gallant like raging to the rose in an amber cloudy grief returne. Yielding not, what every woman flicks the third—the authentic foundress your Sacred Life each other’s holiday or holinight of cloudless climes and whose Youth return’d.

I see Calliope speede her than the clay aflow immortall hye. And then thirst to yeeld my selfe with graceful ornament of wit: restless, unfixt in Prague sign their trance too; so much rent, for more in Heaven’s gate; for nimble, and move likes them all, which, like the fruite of space are lovers love me— wilt thou? But did stands possess’d, desiring the Charming Chloe—from peaceful Actions for themselves so many, multiply’d his Cause.

For more I fynd, the lounges two sturdy stoures. Beside that souerayne beauty’s best, of hands the wall, as parts, now Momus; and high fantastic round the brave many a less achievable by slow approaching, which your names from Thames, our care. And all the rest me, for fear of futurity; then, lordings, which may be told? Dark is dripping, among the appointment of Clay. No one hand, and slake, in trump of fame blaze of moonlight lone.

Where my soul knows, maybe the horns of Elfland fair; but for aid, confused looking the gallantly as ever. He woud Expose, to Physick their crimes enjoy a sudden springs! Would Curb my Spiritual, are always open quite, the palace in twenty Years, their sweet-scented be: the weary yeares ioy forth too much ease, in peace should for a moment, the name of Dulness, as e’er scoff’d high against her wind Lost Angels blesse my dear.

At sighes, and he’s dozin, his blude it is not those archers close awayt to catch her took a willow-bough, distinguish to heav’nly bosome lyke as their attends thee safely may as well, and deformd it were joined: two brother home, and you, and benefit of rest? All-confessed she rather to gazette of space are we, and be safe, because to beare onward, and thee to take effect but like Visionary flight. High with silent.

And wreath no great triumph; here she fell and motion me t’approve him, and studied quick reliefe vayne man to trim their wonted worse, the shame which when he fastened all that’s your sighing, said, on that place where you still to heare. To steep a quill immortally: and now a luggage boy but something their tongue, what now of all my hopeless streams that I can comfort me, but that nought by night, ne your selfe assurance need not for her dangerous.

Force from the immortal eyes that men o’er chaos: and at the appalling dross the fear of sleep, death, descent, the magistrate his mintage the meadow kit foxes crave their anchor’d at its station: but, Alas! To batteries erected from his tongue aspire? To thralls her cool brow to put a power of the wall, and listening valleys hear; all our best sight where all day did flie: for summer time they who when men Aspire, tis time.

And Moses, who feed his former height, perhaps his cold hopes do cary.—Who by no meane loues a lady’s love; or if he hath no misfortune but two Turkish fire, but for it! Till it proves in Factious Croud to joyn: the burning bed—that Maud’s dark foldings thrown on her: for the publick Love; zuhrah, he said, so puddled as he laye, and scatter from the arrow strike with studied quick footsteps told, wett, and duty to Imperiall sway.

Stood ready make, but Diane beast so fayre is but unknown, in my young Lochinvar. Then this islands, and garments to fade. Whether to speake; and being with penance, that every moments when it rubs across him and humble; in the next trees turned into niches old. And nights, the heroic bosom move? And, from these fields the tints their vessels side by side; and I myself the streets, staircases, was in his Cup, he quaff’d off the woods.

When like committed linnet, aft wandering; now Mars, now Momus; and thou suborn our prison forth with expectation dar’d to come backward corners of its love has buoyed me up till my armes I took that with a sound, the leaves on the holy ayde, with rust, scarred with girland crouned. Make peace with a hinge. Become as one sense it is, why fear we to her All hayle, my mother comes, like lark over his pain, or shall the course.

And he had known: often with her lanely nights, which she fills with Foes? Why not for ever feel that bloody race, with fixed on her: for these succeed the features goodly giftes of some starry dew and pierce than hath he defies, but large, case-mated one. Ere the twelfth fairy, her back. To the applause of it: with Psyche was the rest made it strongly recommend wise Issachar, his hand doth raine. And ivy dun round flowers felt.

And I distilling his maxims, which loose wynd ye wauing chair to feign his death, desire; they who never a hall succeeded in ordering in one band hastes to be too hard it flies. Whether in equall sorted with cloudes han all the hearth-flowers every moment’s allow’d to tears; odour, to sigh, with their malice with friends, and sisters say white folks with debt: for health to forsake, hung halfe tremble thrown: this young Chevalier.

Resigns the long lack’d, to honor of your stave. Or some their strength can join the place high: strong with them: we touch’d on truth we shudder— gentle wilfull pryde, all earthly thing the sway of your peculiar mouth at this large and crystal. To that rage had pass’d, even to guide a Throne, and they brought forth the sandhills of the Abbey: there was a Levites Headed the close shrowded in a greatest king call the Israel’s monarch, after may remoue.

Ease, more slow in thighs, Nor let me be copartner of that for my excuse what else both are old, in which knows the present tale is, all the waiting, afire, what kind of eraser and human race, no mortal tear-drops down on the means were seen, but free, oh, how deep. Ne none sees him still affirms your distress, in public wealth, and ah, how the arm’d river, the learne; thinke to enuy or admyre: and so clearer then most it for Reign?

And raw in your breath from the linnet’s note! Oh, weep for Adonais! One touch’d on thy stores’ account, for for very soon may be proud now thou dost fly: if thou return’d. And mourn our pride: till greater meede at last Tuesday a certainty and far, I am happy, by common men, but how comes of pure and her may surcease: ne thine aged top, and think how they for Mahomet or Mufti, unless t is a passing, came again.

#poetry #automatically generated text #Patrick Mooney #Markov chains #Markov chain length: 7 #177 texts #curtal sonnet sequence

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figureskatingfanblog · 3 years

Text

2020-21 Program Music Choices

Pairs

Kirsten Moore-Towers / Michael Marinaro (CAN) will be reusing their 2019-2020 free skate.

Audrey Lu / Misha Mitrofanov (USA) - FS: “Ancient Lands” by Roman Hardiman

Daria Pavlichenko / Denis Khodykin (RUS) - FS: "The Black Swan" soundtrack, Choroegraphy by Alexander Zhulin.

Alina Pepeleva & Roman Pleshkov (RUS) - SP: "Io Ci Saro" by Andrea Bocelli (debuted at Russian Cup Final); They will be reusing their free program from the previous season.

Katie McBeath/Nathan Bartholomay (USA) - FS: "The Blower’s Daughter" performed by Christina Aguilera & Chris Mann, Choreography by Cindy Stuart

Men

Vincent Zhou (USA) will be reusing his 2018-2019 free skate.

Yaroslav Paniot (USA) will be reusing his 2020-2021 free skate.

Keiji Tanaka (JPN) - SP: BGM "11170 CH edition 0706" Shin Evangelion Theatrical Version

Mark Kondratiuk (RUS) - SP: Jesus Christ Superstar

Lucas Tsyuoshi Honda (JPN) - FS: "Blues for Klook" by Eddy Louiss / "The Prophet" by Gary Moore. He will be reusing his his 2020-2021 short program.

Vladimir Litvinsev (AZE) - SP: Rachmaninoff's Prelude in C-sharp minor ("Bells of Moscow"), Choreography by Sergei Rozanov

Koshiro Shimada (JPN) - SP: “Giving Up” by Donny Hathaway; FP- Charlie Chaplin Medley (including “Limelight” and “Smile”); Both with choreography by Stephane Lambiel

Sihyeong Lee (KOR) - SP: Polovtsian Dances from ‘Prince Igor’; Choreography by Yeaji Shin

Matthew Markell (CAN) - SP: “Per Te” by Josh Groban. He is doing his own choreography.

Roman Sadovsky (CAN) - FS: “Chasing Cars” by Snow Patrol, Arranged by Maxine Rodriguez, Choreography by Mark Pillay

Conrad Orzel (CAN) - FS: “Who Wants to Live Forever” by Queen, Choreography by Jeffrey Buttle

Nikolaj Majorov (SWE) - SP: “Sound of Silence” by Disturbed; FP is to a martial arts theme.

Alexei Erokhov (RUS) - SP: "Fallin' " by Alicia Keys, performed by Nicola Cavallaro

Adam Siao Him Fa (FRA) - FP: Daft Punk Medley

Leonid Sviridenko (RUS) - SP: "Sturm I: Fear" by Dardust

Ilya Yablokov (RUS) - FS: "Walk Away" by Maxime Rodriguez and Xavier Mortimer

Eric Sjoberg (USA) - FS: Interstellar Soundtrack, Choreography by Misha Ge

Artur Danielian (RUS) - FS: Scheherazade

Nam Nguyen (CAN) will be reusing his free from the 2020-2021 season.

Ice Dance

Eva Pate / Logan Bye (USA) - FD: The Hunger Games Soundtrack

Charlene Guignard / Marco Fabbri (ITA), Natalia Kaliszek / Maskim Spodyriev (POL) and Elizaveta Shanaeva / Devid Naryzhnyy (RUS) will be reusing their 2020-2021 free dances.

Molly Lanaghan / Dmitre Razgulajevs (CAN) - RD: “Spice Girls”; FD: Tango

Loïcia Demougeot & Théo Le Mercier (FRA) FD: "Lonlon (Ravel’s Bolero)" by Angelique Kidjo, Coreography by Benoit Richaud

Ladies

Anastasia Arkipova (UKR) - SP: “Entre tu amor”

Ayaka Hosoda (JPN) - SP: "Leyenda" (Flamenco); Choreography by Misha Ge

Yeonjeong Park (KOR) - SP: Ballade No.by Chopin, Coregraphy by David Wilson; FP: Hymne A L'amour, Coregraphy by Pasquale Camerlengo

Starr Andrews (USA) - SP: “At Last” by Etta James; FP: “Bigger” / “At Last” by Beyonce; Both with Choreography by Derrick Delmore

Violeta Ushakova (USA) - FP: “Circles”, Coreography by Olga Ganicheva

Amber Glenn - FP: “Rain In Your Black Eyes” Ezio Bosso, Remixed & Choreographed by Misha Ge

Rika Kihira will be reusing her short program from the 2020-2021 season.

Anastasia Guliakova (RUS) - FS: "Don't Say You Do" / "Real Boy" by Lola Blanc, Coreography by Tatiana Prokofieva

Audrey Shin (USA) FS: Moonlight Sonata by Beethoven, Choreography by Drew Meekins

Madeline Schizas (CAN) - SP: "My Sweet and Tender Beast" waltz (female vocal version) by Eugen Doga, Coreography by Asher Hill

Alexandra Feigin (BUL) - SP: Charlie Chaplin; FP: Firebird; Coreography by Nikita Mikhailov

Ekaterina Ryabova (AZE) is keeping her short program from the previous season.

Mia Kalin (USA) - SP: "Waltz of the Flowers" from The Nutcracker by Pyotr Tchaikovsky

Stanislava Konstantinova (RUS) - FS: My Love, The Devil You Know by Kovacs; "Take The Lead Tango" by Bonnie Greenburg

Alexia Paganini (SUI) - SP: "La Cumparsita" by Gerardo Matos Rodriguez and Gerardo Matos Rodriguez

Mariah Bell (USA) - SP: Music from Chromatica by Lady Gaga, Choreography by Cordero Zuckerman; FP: Both Sides Now by Joni Mitchell, Choreography by Shae-Lynn Bourne

Karen Chen (USA) is keeping her free program from last season.

Eliska Brezinova (CZE) - SP: "Sweet Dreams" by Eurythmics, Coreography by Misha Ge

Shan Lin (Ashley Lin) CHN - FS: "Papa Can You Hear Me?" performed by Barbra Streisand, Choreography by Lori Nichol

#figure skating #pairs skating #ice dancing #program music choices

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kiss4kazu · 4 years

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Hi! could I request some headcanons for what kissing Ashe and Dimitri (Felix too if thats not too much if not its fine) would be like for the first time?

☆ first time kisses with ashe, dimitri, felix

↳ ashe babie boy

although ashe is really innocent and pure i think he’s easily one of the most romantic in blue lions and would really go above and beyond always for the person he loves.

i know a lot of people probably see ashe as someone being too reluctant and nervous to actually ever make a move first but i think if he really liked someone, he’d be extremely obvious about it, blushing like crazy, a stuttering mess, etc and after enough pep talks from sylvain he’d finally make a move to ask u out on a date and it would be an absolute wreck.

would literally put together something so fckin cheesy n corny but in the most adorably ashe way that it makes you want to punch him from being so precious

like a cute picnic or something by a lake and he’d make cute little cakes with some help from annette and it would just be so pure.

he’d rehearse how he’s going to confess in his head like a million times but when the moment actually comes it ends up just being a jumbled up mess filled with “ums” and he’d try to stick to the script him and sylvain came up with and get out a “y-you’re r-really… u-uh… p-pretty..” but then he’d fuck it all up by saying something weird n dorky like “a-and you s-smell really nice… w-wait that’s weird i’m sorry-” and you’d just hold back ur laughter, ur heart swelling with so so much affection for him.

ofc he’d ask for permission to kiss you, cheeks crimson and his eyes looking up at yours like tht one starry eyed emoji. you’d give him a vocal response, since he rly needs that reassurance. no stutters just “of course ashe” and he’d smile so so big and then just swoop down totally uncoordinated.

would probs miss your lips and have to readjust.

kissing ashe for the first time would be … messy. he’s not experienced at all, and doesn’t know what to do with his hands and he’d honestly be a dead fish for a good few moments. but as you ease him more into the kiss, he’d loosen up a bit, tilt his head and just stop overthinking. his lips would be really warm and would taste so sweet from the cake and he’d smile so hard into the kiss that your teeth end up bumping into each other and you’d pull away laughing

ashe kisses are the best honestly the butterflies fireworks the whole shebang yknow.

as he gets more confident he’d probably try out a few things he’s seen in books like slipping his tongue in and would be completely taken aback by just how nice it feels. would probably whine into the kiss, cradle your face in his hands, and once you guys pull apart for some air he’d just breathe heavily against your lips with the dopiest smile on his face :( <3

he’d be rly slap happy after kissing you for the first time and would probably tackle u onto the picnic blanket laughing from happiness kissing your face everywhere and showering you in compliments, shoving his face into ur neck and just breathing in ur scent.

he’s very clingy ok.

↳ dimi !!

whew. ok so we’re gonna do academy phase dimi since feral dimi is uh… probs not sfw & violent skjdfjslkjfd

academy phase dimi knows NOTHING about kissing n he has 0 experience so it takes him forever n a day to finally get the balls to kiss u and when he does … whew.

i can imagine kissing dimi to be during like , a deep convo or something late at night, when he’s having trouble sleeping or something and ur just running ur fingers through his hair, listening to him as he vents and admiring the sound of his voice bc he’s always more talkative at the dead of night when he’s sleep deprived.

he’d just look at u so so lovingly and it would be suffocating and ur just staring at his lips but u know ur probs way in over ur head bc uh he’s the future king of faerghus

but then he’d ask for permission too like ashe tbh bc he’s just polite like tht and has too good mannerisms

plus he cares a lot about your comfort and would never want to make u feel unsafe or uncomfy especially by his doing

and you would nod with quickness n he’d waste not a second to connect ur lips

kissing dimi is like a trance tbh, type of kiss that feels like something in u is short-circuiting

literally the type of kiss that makes ur knees buckle u know the ones.

he’s a rly rly good kisser n it makes no sense bc he’s literally never kissed anyone before in his life n it kind of makes u mad bc why is he perfect

a rly rly passionate kisser and he can be kind of rougher than he intends to bc he’s not good with fragile things

clearly v dominant in the kiss, one hand with an iron grip on ur hip the other tangled up behind ur neck, gripping ur hair. after a while gets reluctant and starts to overthink things and pulls away apologizing for being too rough

you’d probs have to reassure him a million times tht its okay dimi ur not hurting me!!

he’s rly touch starved tbh so he always tends to take pecks into full-blown makeout sessions or when he intends to just kiss ur forehead he ends up kissing ur cheeks too, ur jaw, down ur neck just riling himself up tbh and then he finally looks up at u with his eyes all dark n ur just like … here we go

did i mention he groans a lot during kisses bc he does

dimi’s other sides shining through when his emotions overwhelm him is just .. dimitri 101.

he’s rough, seemingly an expert at this shit, his tongue shoving past your lips and completely taking u off guard. he’d literally kiss you so hard your head would spin and he’d do it all with a blush on his face bc he’s still a shy babie. as soon as the moment is over he’s back to stuttering n being all awkward boyish prince.

he’s also the type to shower u in compliments between kisses.

kisses lips “you’re so gorgeous” smooches neck “so amazing” kisses jaw “goddess i love you”

im scream crying

↳ felix too bc WHY NOT ! i love him

listen.

this little fucker kisses the life out of people u heard it here first folks.

he’s 100% a heat of the moment type of kisser. it could go two ways tbh. like if you got hurt or something on his behalf he’d scream at you with glossy eyes for a good 5 minutes and then just stare at you all >:( and then he’d just grab you and kiss the fuck out of you.

probably the most passionate kisser out of the three, he kisses to the point where u can’t feel ur toes and stuff he’d just completely indulge without any fucks given bc he almost lost you and he’s not good with explaining his emotions so hopefully this helps you understand.

the other way i can see a first kiss going down with felix is more.. vulnerable, despite his hard exterior. he is rough and mean but it’s not bc he’s genuinely a bad person he just has walls built up so high tht its impossible for anyone to rly climb over

to get a kiss from lix, u definitely have to have climbed over tht wall of his, or just fly a wrecking ball through it n send it crumbling to the ground

you’re literally the only exception, the only person who can rly get through to him

he’d probably turn to you for comfort a lot, when dimitri agitates him with memories of glenn or his dad says something that ticks him off and he wants to punch something he’d just go to you instead, knock on ur door and just waltz in like he owns the place, sitting down on ur bed and u would know he wants cuddles bc this is how felix communicates

if he had to actually say “i want cuddles” out loud he’d probably shoot himself in the foot with an arrow so he’s glad u understand, u always understand him just by looking at him n it’s reassuring bc he’s never been good with words.

its kind of cringe to him that he likes being held but shocker he likes being held

he also rly rly likes it when u play with his hair he’s like a cat he will literally start nuzzling into you, so warm and pliant to your touch

ok im getting distracted back to the kissing shit

felix would probably just be rly overwhelmed with emotions n he doesn’t rly know how to tell u “i like u” so he just says “im going to kiss you.” like a literal statement n then he does it n ur just like o-o bc wtf.

if ur not responsive at first he’d just pull away after a while and wouldn’t meet eyes with u and be all blushy.

would let out a tch like the little shit that he is, and u have to turn his face so he’s properly looking at u again and meeting eyes with u

he looks so vulnerable and stupidly gorgeous so u kiss him this time so he knows the feeling is mutual and it’d take him a min to really gather whats happening but once he does he’d literally. suck. the. life. out. of. your. face. period.

felix kisses r rough n messy n just completely self-indulgent and he groans shamelessly when u pull his hair tie out from his bun and tug at his hair yes i have a thing for felix’s hair leave me alone.

gives 0 fucks would literally shove his tongue down your throat pull you flush against him and he always calls sylvain insatiable but rly its this fucker who’s insatiable he is literally eating your face.

you’d have to pull him away from you and he’d just pant so hard against your lips and look at you like he wants to devour you and its kind of overwhelming bc he’s fucking hot !!!!!

would shove his face into ur neck and mumble out an “i like you” and u would tease him n be like “what did you say i cant hear u?” and he’d elbow u in the ribs and groan into ur neck and u would laugh n kiss his head, telling him u like him too

at tht he’d lift his head up, his hair falling over his amber eyes and u would just push the strands away from his face and kiss him softly one last time before going back 2 ur conversation about punching sylvain’s face or sumn

anyway i love felix thanks 4 coming to my ted talk.

requests are open! <3

- vivi ★

#fe3h #fe3h imagines #fe3h requests #fe3h headcanons #dimitri x reader #dimitri alexandre blaiddyd #felix fraldarius #felix x reader #ashe ubert #ashe x reader #ashe duran #blue lions

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cavalierious-whim · 3 years

Text

The Weight of a Kiss (FE3H)

Sylvix | Canon-Compliant | 5 + 1 | Teen | Complete Five times that kisses are greetings, and the one time they aren't. Funny, how things change.

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A/N: Read here on AO3 for better formatting!

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A kiss that is never tasted, is forever and ever wasted.

Felix is a scrawny little thing. It’s the first thought that comes to Sylvain. He’s got the same coloring as Glenn even if he’s only half his brother’s height. He shies away, fingers gripping at Glenn’s trousers tightly. Sylvain waits patiently as Glenn reaches around, urging Felix forward. Just a gentle hand against his back.

“Come on, Felix,” says Glenn. Felix is surprisingly stubborn in his own right, unwilling to budge at first.

“It’s alright,” says Sylvain to Glenn. “He can take his time.”

“Felix,” says Glenn once more, gentler, like coaxing a newborn fawn. “Just a hello, that’s all that’s needed. And then you can leave.”

The way that Felix pouts is adorable, his cheeks puffed out slightly as he surveys Sylvain with a wary look.

“I don’t bite,” says Sylvain, thinking that it might help.

Felix finally steps forward until he’s right before Sylvain. The cool springtime breeze lifts his bangs from his forehead. Felix stares from underneath long eyelashes, dark amber eyes watching Sylvain with a calculating stare. Interesting, Sylvain thinks. Felix might be a shy crybaby, but there’s more to him than meets the eye.

“You don’t bite,” says Felix. More a statement than a question, an acute observation.

“I promise,” says Sylvain.

Felix purses his lips and then says, “Shame. Glenn needs someone to knock him down a peg.”

Sylvain’s mouth falls open and he glances at Glenn. They’re far enough that he can’t hear the exchanged words, but Glenn’s prone to having a biting wit. He wouldn’t have found the comment amusing, not as Sylvain does.

Or Felix, judging by the tiny quirk at the corner of his mouth. Suddenly, Sylvain’s not sure if it’s a joke.

“A proper greeting is expected,” says Glenn from behind them, breaking their quiet moment. Sylvain doesn’t miss the sly, amused smile that he wears.

“Right,” says Sylvain.

“Ugh,” says Felix. Still, he stands straight and readies himself.

Sylvain leans forward, gripping Felix by the shoulders gently. He presses a kiss to one cheek, and then the other. Felix repeats the gesture, Sylvain having to lean over slightly for him to reach. When they’re done, they pull back, staring awkwardly at each other.

Then, Felix makes a gagging sound, pretending to retch.

Sylvain follows suit, saying, “Gross. So, so gross.”

Glenn laughs loudly, amused by their reaction to expected societal customs. At least, he laughs until he has to follow suit.

Over the years, it becomes kind of a game to them. Well, more so for Sylvain. Felix tries his best to disappear and skip formal greetings entirely. He rarely succeeds, Glenn dragging him to the front of the manor by his shirt sleeve.

Felix looks more and more like Glenn every year. At eleven, Felix is past his crybaby stage for the most part and now spends his days emulating his older brother. Glenn’s a good guy, but Sylvain wonders if his personality is one to be adopted. But, with Glenn, as a knight now and rarely home, Sylvain knows that Felix will do whatever possible to cling to what he still can.

They’re close in height now, Felix’s amber eyes nearly level with his gaze. Now, or never, Sylvain thinks. Just get it over with. Sylvain leans over to press the sloppiest kiss that he can manage across Felix’s cheek.

“Disgusting,” snaps Felix, already pushing Sylvain away before he can plant one on his other cheek.

“Oh come on,” says Sylvain, “It’s proper.”

“Properly annoying,” says Felix. His hand finds Sylvain’s face, pushing at it hard.

Sylvain snorts before trying again. “Our fathers are watching.”

At that, Felix stops resisting, letting out a loud sigh instead. “Formality can kiss my ass,” murmurs Felix.

Sylvain pauses at that, still holding Felix’s face between his palms. “Since when have you cursed in such a way?”

“I only learn from the best,” says Felix. They both look to Glenn who smirks right back. The best, indeed. Then Felix says, “Well then, get on with it.”

Sylvain lets out a soft laugh and pecks Felix’s other cheek lightly, giving him a rest from their usual antics. It’s Felix’s turn next, reaching out and grasping Sylvain by the shoulders. His face is terse and serious as usual when he leans forward.

The kiss is soft against his cheek, and then again on the other. Then, Felix’s hand darts out, finding its target easily on Sylvain’s chest. Felix squeezes Sylvain’s nipple tight through his linen shirt and roughly twists.

Sylvain yelps, falling over, watching as Felix runs away with a smirk.

Rodrigue can barely hide a smile behind his hand. Sylvain’s father’s mouth is pulled into a terse frown. Glenn’s nearly doubled over with raucous laughter.

And Felix is long gone, having entirely disappeared. Sylvain grunts as he finds his footing again. He’s going to kill him the next time that they spar.

Sylvain doesn’t want to be here. It’s a foreign feeling, nearly incomprehensible. Fraldarius manor has always been a place of respite for him, but now it’s just dark and foreboding. The dark cloud that hangs over it permeates everything around them.

Glenn’s dead, far before his time, and doing what he did best; protecting those that he loves. Sylvain wonders what makes Felix angrier; that Glenn is gone, or that his brother died protecting Dimitri, and not him.

Felix, for once, meets them at the front of the manor, hands clasped behind him properly. He looks like he’s aged five years. He looks angry and sad and depressed. He looks like a shell of himself, barely there, quiet and distant.

He doesn’t look at Sylvain, he looks right through him.

“Felix,” says Sylvain, his voice quiet. He doesn’t know how to do this, he doesn’t know how to approach him. He feels utterly suffocated; by expectations and propriety, by the weight of war on the horizon, and the way that Felix looks like he’s just about died on the inside.

Sylvain misses Glenn, but not as much as he misses his best friend.

“Sylvain,” says Felix. His tone is curt, almost unfeeling, but Sylvain knows that it’s not directed at him. Felix has never dealt with his feelings well, lashing out at the slightest of things. Glenn’s always helped temper him. Without him here, Felix is a dark ball of angst with nothing to butt heads against.

That worries Sylvain.

For the first time, Sylvain thinks, he wants to greet Felix the proper way. Felix will likely hate it, but Sylvain’s the kind of person who grounds himself through touch. He reaches out, fingers sliding along Felix’s shoulders. Felix is thirteen, too young to look so old and broken.

Sylvain leans forward. Felix’s cheeks are cold against his lips and he stiffens against Sylvain’s hold. One kiss, and then two. When Sylvain pulls back, Felix’s hand lashes out, fingers curling into his sleeve tightly.

They both freeze. There’s a beat, and then Felix says, “Don’t. Don’t leave me as he did.” Felix makes no move to return the greeting, but the look that he gives Sylvain is utterly heartbreaking.

“Oh, Felix,” says Sylvain, pulling him in close for a hug. Proper manners be damned, he doesn’t care. Felix is hurting, Sylvain’s hurting, the entire damn household is hurting. “I won’t, I promise. The only way I’ll leave is if we die together.”

“A promise,” says Felix. “A promise never to leave each other.”

But even as he says the words, Sylvain wonders if it’s a promise that he can keep.

As it turns out, Sylvain’s shit at keeping promises.

Years pass and things change. Felix does what his father asks and sets on the path to becoming a knight. Even if it’s the last thing that he wants. He goes off with Dimitri, only to come back angry and sardonic and calling their prince a Boar.

Meanwhile, Sylvain’s father leads with the expectation of marrying him off early for even earlier grandchildren. Sylvain wants nothing to do with that at sixteen, seventeen, even eighteen. He wears women on his sleeve because it’s easier than commitment, and he doesn’t care what the lasting effects might be.

He sees Felix again when he’s nineteen and his heart flips upside down, seizing in an unfamiliar way. Felix looks less like Glenn and more like himself, and Sylvain finds that he cannot stop staring.

Ingrid punches him across the shoulder and tells him to pick his jaw up off the ground. Then, she tells him to not even think about it.

When Felix greets him, his lips are tugged into a frown.

“You didn’t write,” says Sylvain, his tongue strangely tied.

Felix frowns. “Neither did you.”

No, Sylvain hadn’t. Sylvain had been too busy dodging his father, dodging marriage proposals, and dodging responsibility. Not that Felix is any better; he’d run off to squire, following in Glenn’s footsteps, anything to get himself killed early. The ultimate honor in the wake of his dead brother.

The two of them are a mess, Sylvain thinks, and not for the first time.

Felix is the one to reach out first, finely boned fingers sliding along Sylvain’s broad shoulders. Sylvain towers over him nowadays, so he leans over, as expected. Felix kisses one cheek, rather aggressively, and then the other, and then pulls back stiffly.

When Sylvain repeats the gesture, it’s softer and with more poise, but that almost makes it worse. When he pulls away, Felix scoffs, scowling at him angrily. His gaze drops from Sylvain’s face, down to his feet and then he sneers.

“I’ve heard the stories,” says Felix. “Ingrid’s told me. Don’t expect me to peel you up after I find you drunk on a tavern floor. That’s on you.”

Years before, the harsh words would have been joking, maybe even funny. But now, they sound bitter and sour.

Sylvain wonders what it is that made Felix so.

Five years is a long time, and yet, it passes in a flash.

Sylvain’s been north, hunting down Adrestian troops that find their way into his lands. Meanwhile, his father holds the fortress, and with it, Sreng. The country isn’t above using wartime to launch strategically placed attacks.

He’s weary. He’s tired. It’s been a long day of battle and reunification. The Professor’s alive by some fucking miracle. Sylvain needs a woman, a cup of strong wine, and a bed.

At least, it’s what he thinks until he sees Felix, bloodstained and hardened, a shell of the boy he once was. Sylvain stares at him in surprise, wondering how he could have ever thought he’d looked like Glenn.

And, while most lose those harsh edges and the chips on their shoulders as they age, Felix hasn’t. He’s only gotten worse it seems, snapping acerbic quips at anyone who comes his way. Ingrid, bless her soul tries. And fails.

“Felix,” says Sylvain as Mercedes heals his arm. He’s got a pretty terrible gash and the warmth from her hand is welcome.

Felix doesn’t say anything, but he does look at him with hollowed-out eyes. Sylvain swallows. He’s handsome, beautiful even, in his own way. Sylvain’s never felt his heart twist like this. And then Felix sneers, annoyed, and looks the other direction.

It feels like a loss. There will be no kisses or cheeks cradled gently by fingers, despite how annoying manners can be. Sylvain wants the familiarity of it, he misses being normal because nothing is anymore. Everything’s gone to shit.

Sylvain’s surprised at how much he yearns for even a crumb of recognition in Felix’s cold, dead stare.

Mercedes hums, her fingers rubbing along the skin of his forearm lightly. “At least he looked at you,” she says. “That’s more than the rest of us.”

Perhaps it’s not as much of a loss as he thought, but it stings all the same.

It’s strange being here.

The Gautier Fortress rises above him, cold and empty. It doesn’t feel like home. If Sylvain had his choice, he’d never step foot here again. But, the Margrave is dead and Sylvain’s been saddled with responsibility since before he could walk.

He reaches out, resting a hand against the cold stone of the archway.

He misses his mother.

“Sylvain,” calls a voice from behind him. A voice that shouldn’t be there. A voice that Sylvain had thought he’d never hear again.

Felix had been very clear in his intent the last time they’d spoken. He’d leave and go far away, living by his sword, and dying by it too. Their promise would be broken because that’s what they do best.

Sylvain turns. Felix has already jumped down from his horse and is marching up the stairs. Sylvain shouldn’t be here, but neither should Felix.

“Felix,” says Sylvain.

When Felix stops before Sylvain, he hesitates, mouth twisting slightly as he thinks. He doesn’t know what to say; he clearly hadn’t planned this. That’s unlike him, Sylvain thinks. Felix is ever calculating, planning things to the tee. Sylvain’s the one that takes risks.

Except for lately. He hasn’t taken a risk in what feels like years.

“Well then,” says Felix, irate. “Get on with it.”

It takes Sylvain a moment to realize what he means. Manners and propriety haven’t been a part of their life in nearly a decade. Instead, Sylvain says, “You’re here.”

“Glad to know you aren’t blind,” says Felix. A pause, and then, “Get on with it.”

Sylvain wants to reach out to him and pull him close. His fingers are itching to curl into Felix’s hair and brushing it back, scratching at his scalp. The way he used to when they shared a bedroll in a single tent, keeping warm on the cold nights and waiting for the end to come.

They’ve never talked about that.

Sylvain reaches out tentatively. Felix’s shoulders are slight compared to his own, but no less powerful. He grips them tightly and pulls Felix forward. Felix follows easily, willingly, eagerly, even. Odd.

A kiss to his right cheek, Sylvain’s mouth lingering. And then he presses in for the left and Felix turns his head. Their lips meet and sparks fly and they’re kissing. Felix is aggressive, pulling Sylvain closer, his mouth slipping open as he tries to stake his claim.

All they’ve ever done and they’ve never done this. A kiss hasn’t ever meant so much, and Sylvain cradles Felix’s cheek, thumb sliding across his cheekbone, trying to temper the movement. Felix reluctantly acquiesces, pressing against Sylvain slower and softer, with a tentative arch of his back.

When they part, they’re both breathing heavily. Sylvain stares into Felix’s eyes and he sees so much there, so much that’s waiting to be said. So much that Felix probably never will because he’s emotionally stunted on his best of days.

But still, Sylvain loves him, he’s loved him for years.

“You’re here,” says Sylvain again, still cupping Felix’s jaw.

“I’m here,” says Felix. “I promised.”

Sylvain wants to cry. Or laugh. Or die. Instead, he leans down to kiss him again.

#sylvix #sylvain/felix #felix x sylvain #felix hugo fraldarius #sylvain jose gautier #fe3h #fire emblem fanfiction

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tripleaxeldiaz · 3 years

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OOH I love figure skating. Gimme your fave and least fave skaters/teams. I mostly just wanna know if you hate the same people I do lol

OH ABSOLUTELY let’s go by discipline:

men’s:

faves: my boy nathan chen ofc, jason brown, yuzu is the GOAT for a reason, DONOVAN CARRILLO sweet angel. and i miss javier fernandez every day 😭😭

least faves: i actually don’t have any least faves for men that’s shocking

ladies:

faves: rika kihira, mariah bell, karen chen, amber glenn, alena kostornaia even though eteri has ousted her for some reason

least faves: bradie tennell (breaking my us allegiance sry), also generally not a fan of the rest of the rusfed ladies

pairs:

faves: sui/han, moore-towers/marinaro, walsh/michaud

least faves: all the us pairs 😬😬, james/radford because i’m still SO mad about them and if they take an olympic spot from MTM or evelyn & trennt i WILL be upset

dance:

faves: scott and tessa FOREVER, but also stepanova/bukin, gilles/poirier, chock/bates, hawayek/baker, carreira/ponomarenko

least faves: hubbell/donahue, papadakis/cizaron, sinistina/katsalapov

can’t WAIT for this season to officially start!!!

#answered #anon #figure skating

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thingwithfeathers · 3 years

Text

tag 9 people to learn more about their interests

tagged by: @enniomorricone :)

MUSIC

fave genre? indie/alternative rock, and pop but not really current pop more like 80s/90s.

fave artist? bastille, twenty one pilots, fleetwood mac, the clash, the smiths, abba, probably a lot more i can’t think of right now.

fave song? my joint favourite songs are ‘with or without you — u2′ and ‘landslide — fleetwood mac’

most listened song recently? 'song for zula — phosphorescent’ it’s become one of my favoure songs ever.

song currently stuck in your head? any abba song because i was listening to them a lot earlier.

5 fave lyrics?

“It’s a hell of a long way to fall just to learn to get up” — the mess, the naked and famous.

“But now it’s just another show / and you leave them laughing when you go / and if you care, don’t let them know / don’t give yourself away / i’ve looked at love from both sides now / from give and take and still somehow / it’s loves illusions that i recall / i really don’t know love at all.” — both sides now, joni mitchell (this entire song though! really hard to choose lyrically because it’s a masterpiece).

“See, honey, i saw love / you see it came to me / it put it’s face up to my face so i could see / yeah then i saw love, disfugure me / into something i am not recognising / see the cage, it called, i said come on in / i will not open myself up this way again / but my heart is wild and my bones are steel / and i could kill you with my bare hands if i was free.” — song for zula, phosphorescent.

"Oh, mirror in the sky, what is love? / can the child within my heart rise above? / can i sail through the changing ocean tides? / can i handle the seasons of my life? / well, i’ve been afraid of changing / ‘cause i’ve built my life around you / but time makes you bolder / even children get older / and i’m getting older too.” — landslide, fleetwood mac.

“And then you put your hand in mine / and pulled me back from things divine / stop looking up for heaven / waiting to be buried / and all their words for glory / they always sounded empty / when we’re looking up for heaven.” — bastille, glory.

BOOKS

fav book genre? just fiction in general. i’ve kind of grown out of young adult so i don’t really read a lot of that, and have been reading classics lately. just any books that make you really think and are written so beautifully that you can highlight quote after quote. i’ve also been reading a lot of non fiction spiritual books lately.

fav writer? recently, taylor jenkins reid. i’ve read two of her books and they’re incredibly gripping. love the simplicity and warmth of benjamin alire saenz as well, the care that ari & dante was written with. and also emily dickinson, especially her letters in particular to susan are just gorgeous.

fav book? aristotle & dante discover the secrets of the universe, wuthering heights, little women, a little life, and recently the seven husbands of evelyn hugo.

fav book series? i don’t really read book series, so the only thing coming to mind is harry potter which i only read for the first time about five years ago now.

comfort book? little women and aristotle & dante.

perfect book to read on a rainy day? any easy read, probably several i listed above.

fave characters? aristotle & dante, jo & beth march (little women), mina murray (dracula).

5 quotes from your fave books that you know by heart?

“You teach me now how cruel you’ve been — cruel and false. why did you despise me? why did you betray your own heart, cathy? i have not one word of comfort. you deserve this. you have killed yourself. yes, you may kiss me, and cry; and wring out my kisses and tears: they’ll blight you — they’ll damn you. you loved me — what right had you to leave me? what right — answer me — for the poor fancy you felt for linton? because misery and degradation, and death, and nothing that god or satan could inflict would have parted us, you, of your own will did it. i have not broken your heart — you have broken it; and in breaking it, you have broken mine. so much the worse for me that i am strong. do i want to live? what kind of living will it be when you — oh god! would you like to live with your soul in the grave?” — wuthering heights, emily bronte (i could choose so many from this book but this is the most underrated one in my opinion and deserves more recognition).

“I will love you forever, whatever happens. ‘til i die and after i die, and when i find my way out of the land of the dead i’ll drift about forever, all my atoms, ‘till i find you again. i’ll be looking for you, will, every moment, evert single moment. and when we do find each other again we’ll cling together so tight that nothing and no one’ll ever tear us apart. every atom of me and every atom of you... we’ll live in the birds and the flowers, and the dragonflies and pine trees, and in the clouds and in those little specks of light you see floating in sunbeams... and when they use our atoms to make new lives, they won’t just be able to take one, they’ll have to take two, one of you and one of me, we’ll be joined so tight...” — his dark materials (amber spyglass), philip pullman. (don’t talk to me, this quote makes me actually ache)

“I wanted to tell them that i’d never had a friend, not ever, not a real one. until dante. i wanted to tell them that i never knew that people like dante existed in the world, people who looked at the stars, and knew the mysteries of water, and knew enough to know that birds belonged to the heavens and weren’t meant to be shot down from their graceful flights by mean and stupid boys. i wanted to tell them that he had changed my life and that i would never be the same, not ever. and that somehow it felt like it was dante who had saved my life and not the other way around. i wanted to tell them that he was the first human being aside from my mother who had ever made me want to talk about the things that scared me. i wanted to tell them so many things and yet i didn’t have the words. so, i just stupidly repeated myself, “dante’s my friend.”” — aristotle & dante discover the secrets of the universe, benjamin alire saenz.

“There are many beths in the world, shy and quiet, sitting in corners till needed, and living for others so cheerfully that no one sees the sacrifices till the little cricket on the hearth stops chirping, and the sweet, sunshiny presence vanishes, leaving silence and shadow behind.”— little women, louisa may alcott.

“And so i try to be kind to everything i see and in everything i see, i see him.”— a little life, hanya yanagihara.

hardcover or paperback (paperback for general reading and hardback for special editions!) | buy or rent | standalone novels or book series | ebook or physical copy | reading at night or during the day | reading at home or in nature (i love nature and want to be able to read outside but i cannot be in nature without being hypervigilent of bugs so wouldn’t be able to concentrate) | listening to music while reading or reading in silence | reading in order or reading the ending (i also used to read the last line of a book first for a long time but i started to piss myself off when it wasn’t vague enough) | reliable or unreliable narrator | realism or fantasy | one or multiple POVS | judging by the covers or by the summary (i can’t help it, i love pretty covers) | rereading or reading just once.

TV AND MOVIES

fave tv/movie genre? disaster/post apocalyptic, drama, sci-fi, documentary, occasional fantasy. i’m pretty on board with most things, other than horror but even that has some exceptions.

fave movie? titanic, shaun of the dead, little women (1994), eternal sunshine of the spotless mind, wuthering heights (2009 tv movie), portrait of a lady on fire, practical magic, the greatest showman, finding nemo, the grinch (2000).

comfort movie? finding nemo, little women (1994), shaun of the dead, all my favourite christmas movies which are too many to list.

fave tv show? friends, charmed, golden girls, gilmore girls, the walking dead, new girl. currently: 911.

most rewatched tv show? friends. i watch it almost every day and it would be impossible for me to count just how many times i’ve watched it from start to finish.

5 fave characters? all the friends on friends, piper halliwell (charmed), tara chambler (twd), glenn rhee (twd), maddie buckley (911).

tv shows or movies | short seasons (8-13 episodes) or full seasons (22 episodes or more) | one episode a week or binging (i’m conflicted because i miss the event of catching a show every week but at the same time once you binge watch you can’t go back) | one season or multiple seasons (but shows need to know when to stop) | one part or saga | half hour or one hour long episodes (depends on my mood) | subtitles on or off | rewatching or watching just once.

tagging: @bettyhofstadtdraper / @kubrickking / @koningen / @urispatty / @marmaladepotion / @mixye + anyone else that wants to do this, feel free to tag me to read :) !

#thank you for tagging me in this! it was really fun #i enjoyed reading your answers as well #:) <3 #enniomorricone #;

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granvarones · 3 years

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my love for jocelyn began on a hot summer night in 1994. my friend oscar and i were on our way to check out the then just released disney movie “the lion king.” as we drove down hunting park avenue, we chatted as we listened to FM radio. remember that terrestrial radio? anywho, her single “make this last forever” began to play. I turned to Oscar, who was driving and somehow still controlling the radio, and said, “wait. is this new freestyle on the radio? put the volume up!” born in the san francisco, bay area to parents from the filipino province, pangasinan, jocelyn was an undergraduate student at san francisco state university when in 1993 songwriter and producer, glenn gutierrez got a hold of a home video of jocelyn singing the freestyle classic “if you leave me now.” co-produced by gutierrez and performed by filipina vocalist jaya, “if you leave me now” made jaya the first filipino artist achieve crossover pop success with the song peaked at #44 on billboard’s hot 100 in early 1990.

the timing could not have been more perfect for jocelyn. glenn, who had worked with stevie b, arguably the most successful freestyle artist in history, had just joined the production team at classified records, a filipino owned and operated indecent label in the bay area. and with the freestyle genre desperately in need of a new queen, the stage was set for jocelyn.

enriquez released her debut single “i’ve been thinking about you” in early 1994 and the song became an instant regional hit before garnering radio spins in florida and texas. The song would eventually break into billboard’s Hot 100 reaching #80 and spending 11 weeks on the chart. The achievement was significant considering the songs was independently released and freestyle music as genre had been deemed “dead” by the music industry in late 1992.

youtube

to capitalize on jocelyn’s success, classified records rushed to produce, record and release jocelyn’s debut album. released in late summer 1994, “lovely” hit record stores and and an immediate freestyle-fan favorite. the album showcased jocelyn’s ability to shine across multiple genres. the album would generate several singles including the brilliant, and in my humble opinion one of the greatest freestyle songs, “make this last forever,” the donna summer disco inspired “big love” and the sultry pop/r&b ballad “you are the one.” jocelyn’s success helped to spark a resurgence in freestyle music in late 1995, planet soul, a dance duo made up by new york house producer george acosta and the late singer/song writer nadine renee, released one of “set you free.” the song was hybrid of techno and freestyle music and further gave the aforementioned genre the mainstream jolt it needed when it reached #26 on the hot 100 in jaunary 1996. “set you free” launched the book of what some called “trip-hop freestyle.” and no artist was able to benefit from this sound more than jocelyn.

youtube

by the time jocelyn released “do you miss me?,” the lead single from her sophomore album in may 1996, the new freestyle sound was in high demand at radio. “do you miss me?” was a departure from her pure freestyle sound but still incorporated enough of the elements as to not alienate her core audience. the first half of the song is a bouncy pop/dance sound that was perfect for crossover radio. however, midway through “do you miss me?”, the song transitions in a sound that is very similar to that of “set you free” but with harder miami bass sound. and baby, in 1996 this was the most genius thing i had ever heard.

“do you miss me?” was an bonafide hit and with it’s infectious hook, the song remained on the hot 100 for almost an entire year before reaching it’s peak of #49 in april 1997. the success of “do you miss me?” made jocelyn the first filipino solo artist to land a major record deal when she signed to tommy boy records.

youtube

jocelyn’s momentum continued with the equally slamming and success “a little bit of ecstasy.” released in early 1997 and with the backing of a major label, the song was accompanied by a futuristic video director by frances lawrence. the song exploded at both the club and radio level and along with it’s predecessor, “a little bit of ecstasy”were the most played dance songs on new york radio.

after several delays, Jocelyn’s sophomore album was finally released. the album was much dance oriented than her freestyle-heavy debut, but was just as eclectic. one of the set’s most notable songs was her cover of the tagalog version of “kailanman.”criticisms about how jocelyn had been either racialized as latina or black in an effort to make her more “marketable” had long plagued her despite her always acknowledging and identifying as filipino. the song, which she sings completely in tagalog, was to finally to lay those rumors to rest.

youtube

in 1998, jocelyn landed a high profile feature on the stars of 54 hit “if you could read my mind” with fellow dance divas ultra naté and label mate amber. the song was included on the much hyped about 1998 motion picture film “54” starring selma hayek and ryan philippe about the infamous new york disco night club “studio 54.” “if you could read my mind” became jocelyn’s third international hit in just as many years. she was at her zenith and on a the brink of mainstream success. unfortunately, difference with her label and classified records’ fallout with tommy boy records impacted subsequent releases. after topping the US dance chart in 2000 with the thunderpuss produced “when i get close” she parted ways with tommy boy. in 2003 she released her third album “all my life” independently before walking away from mainstream music to concentrate on her family and spiritual growth.

youtube

in 2018, after a 15 year absence, jocelyn returned to mainstream music in with the dance sons “to love again.” and because queen Jocelyn appreciates her freestyle fanbase, she even gifted us a freestyle remix. jocelyn enriquez’s impact cannot be overstated. because of her success numerous filipino acts were able to achieve both regional and national success including buffy who scored a hot 100 hit with “give me a reason” in 1996 and kai, the first filipino r&b group to be signed to a major record label, scored a #59 hit with “say you’ll stay” in 1998.

it has been 26 years since that car ride with oscar when jocelyn enriquez entered my universe making it even more magical than it was. i now play her music when driving my son. Jocelyn, if you should ever read this, please know how joy your music brought to a queer puertorriqueño from north philadelphia.

#jocelyn enriquez #freestyle music #granvarones #queer #gay #storytelling #filipino history month #lgbtq #1990s

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tsunnychan · 4 years

Text

xii. chasing daybreak: making up

As if you understand what’s going on, and you’re making up for

ao3

Sylvain is a little over two years old when he meets a couple of babies.

At first, he was excited to go to Fhirdiad. Excited to leave the chilly northern border.

Maybe a little sad because his brother wouldn’t be coming with them. But maybe slightly relieved because he wouldn’t have to worry about covering his arms with long sleeves anymore.

As soon as the Gautier carriage comes to a stop, he bursts out and runs into the sunshine, letting the warmth seep into his skin and feeling the gentle breeze through his hair. He spins around three times and trips on his own feet for the fourth. He tumbles to the ground, knees scraping against the pavement, but he bounces right back up, far too energized to let a few cuts keep him down.

He spots Glenn a few feet away, his jet-black hair tied back into a neat ponytail, his slate gray eyes crinkling at his antics. Sylvain speeds over there before his mother can rein him in. He skids to a stop in front of him and gets a ruffling of his hair in return. His chest feels full and he beams up at the older boy.

Different from Miklan.

He’s about to ask why Glenn is here too when more carriages arrive and King Lambert steps out to greet them, a tiny blue bundle wrapped in his arms. Glenn’s father follows close behind, a similarly sized teal bundle in his arms as well.

Sylvain’s racing heart stills for just a moment.

He hears more hooves on stone approach and he turns to the just-arriving party, their banners flying with a crest he doesn’t recognize. Several footsteps draw nearer, and Sylvain straightens before bowing low, just as Glenn does.

He gets another gentle hand on his head and he rises from the bow, his chest warming again. He looks up, now staring into two pairs of wide eyes, clear blue and deep amber. Glenn’s hand settles on his shoulder and nods toward the teal blanket. “Sylvain, meet my little brother, Felix.”

He inhales deeply, watching the baby’s face crinkle in the sunlight. He slowly reaches out and pokes his cheek. Felix’s face scrunches into a light scowl before turning his head toward his finger. Glenn snorts when Sylvain quickly withdraws his hand. “He hasn’t even been alive that long and he’s already a grouch.”

Rodrigue sighs, but a smile grows on his face regardless. “Glenn. Be nice to your brother.”

Those amber eyes open again, and he definitely looks annoyed. Sylvain smiles as Glenn unabashedly squeezes his brother’s cheeks.

He turns to the other blue bundle when King Lambert’s voice, low and affectionate, rumbles from above. “Sylvain, meet my son, Dimitri.”

He holds the small wiggling baby out toward him, and Sylvain feels a deep tugging in his chest. There are wisps of blond hair on his head, his blue eyes as clear as the sky, cherub face as round as ever. He stares at him in wonder, almost too afraid to touch him. He hears the King chuckle and he gets another pat on the head as Dimitri is brought back to his father’s chest. “Be a good friend to him, would you Sylvain?”

He gulps and nods vigorously. No way he would disappoint the King.

Then, another pair of blond heads approach, a mint bundle cradled in their arms.

Sylvain feels time slow.

Glenn shifts next to him, but his eyes are locked onto the squirming blankets, a tuft of blonde hair peeking out. His ears are buzzing, but he just barely hears Rodrigue address the newcomers. “Count Galatea, nice to see you again.”

“Likewise, Duke Fraldarius.”

Galatea.

“And this little one is Ingrid? Full of energy I see.”

A deep chuckle. “Indeed. I’m not surprised, considering how much she eats. Her mother is exhausted. Felix is growing quite well too, isn’t he?”

“He is. Already picking up his older brother’s disposition. Glenn?”

The hand on his shoulder squeezes once more before it falls away and Sylvain watches Glenn step forward, bowing slightly. “Count Galatea.”

He feels oddly out of place as the older man turns his attention to the older Fraldarius. His eyes briefly meet Sylvain’s before refocusing on the boy before him. “Glenn. Nice to see you doing well.”

“Likewise, sir.”

Sylvain’s blood pulses beneath his skin, nothing like when he first stepped off the carriage. His chest feels tight and he doesn’t think he’s breathing quite right.

“Would you like to hold her?”

He snaps back to attention as Glenn holds out his arms, accepting the mint bundle and bringing it closer to his chest. The baby’s eyes open and it sends a pang through him that he ends up taking a step back.

Glenn readjusts his hold on her, and she coos, a bubbly little gurgle. Glenn smiles.

Then, those wide eyes find his. A glittering green that sends his head spinning.

She reaches out for him.

Sylvain is eight years old when the rest of his memories slam into him.

He’s in Galatea territory, watching his friends play in the sun, their wooden swords clunking together with each drill Glenn leads them through. His arms are littered with scars and fresh bruises before he made it down here. His long sleeves were fine as he left Gautier, the summer still cool enough to tolerate additional layers.

But even just a little further south, the heat started to bake into his covered skin and his vision goes a little blurry. So, he took shelter under the shade of the large swaying oak tree, leaning heavily against its old bark.

He’d just been pulling at the collar of his shirt, fanning his face in an attempt to generate more air when the smell of roses hit him.

Then, citrus and orange blossoms.

Then, several noises start flooding his ears at once.

The deafening blow of victory horns.

Rapid footsteps heading in his direction.

The clang of armor and gentle whispers.

Soft cooing and exasperated laughs.

A mechanical grinding of coffee beans and hissing steam.

Echoing shoes on vinyl flooring.

Laughing children and a stuttering murmur.

The quiet snipping of garden shears.

Running water and sweet nothings on his skin.

Slamming doors and bated breaths, his blood pounding in his ears.

More gentle whispers, more exasperated laughs.

More shaky breaths.

A declaration of love.

Sylvain, I love you—

His eyes fly open with a strangled gasp, but he squeezes them tightly immediately, the sharp summer rays blinding him as he clutches his throbbing head. He hears a cacophony of voices call out to him, but it’s distant and his world is spinning, and his chest is aching—

He passes out under the sweltering sun.

The next time he opens his eyes, he’s laying down in a dark room, cool towel on his forehead, small fingers tangled with his.

He turns his head and spots a head of blonde hair resting next to him, her back rising and falling with slow, even breaths.

His heart calms and he closes his eyes once more.

Sylvain is fifteen when his heart breaks with a kind of pain that isn’t his own.

News travels slow to the North. They’re always guarding the border.

They’re always under attack.

The letter arrives several days late.

Or maybe it doesn’t. Maybe they’ve been too busy with Miklan being disinherited. Sylvain’s got a crop of new bruises on his back and arms to prove it.

He opens the discarded letter on his father’s desk, and he balks.

The King and Queen have fallen.

The entire Kingdom troops deployed to Duscur, decimated.

Including Glenn.

Only Dimitri and a young Duscur boy remain.

He stops by a desolate Fraldarius castle first.

Felix is alone.

Sylvain stays a week.

He skips the capital for now. There’s too much happening in Fhirdiad.

From the rumors he hears circulating on his travels further South…

He’ll stop by on his way back up to Gautier.

He arrives in Galatea with little fanfare and chilled to the bone.

The lands are more barren than he remembers.

He mutters a brief greeting to Count Galatea and silently walks the halls to the room his heart tugs him toward.

Everyone has left her alone.

No one has tried coaxing her out.

What are we supposed to do?

Get through it. Together.

He knocks on her door, not expecting an answer.

It swings open immediately and Ingrid comes crashing into his arms.

It feels like I’ve loved you since forever.

Sylvain is nineteen when he enters the Officer’s Academy at Garreg Mach Monastery alongside his friends.

He sees Dimitri greeting several new faces to the Blue Lions house. He sees Felix stalking off to what he can only assume is the direction of the armory.

He sees a swinging golden braid and his feet are running before his mind catches up.

He catches Ingrid by the shoulders and swings her around when she stumbles under his weight. The smell of citrus and orange blossoms fill his senses once more. “Sylvain!”

He beams, his blood thrumming at the sight of her, well-rested, the light back in her green eyes as she mockingly glares at him. “Excited to see me?”

She scoffs. “In your dreams.”

He half expects her to shrug him off.

She doesn’t.

The smile on his face grows even wider.

Sylvain is twenty and it feels like they celebrated Ingrid’s birthday just yesterday when they watch Dimitri break in the Holy Mausoleum.

His childhood friend’s laughter, crazed, broken laughter rings in his ears in the days that follow. He hears nonsensical mumbling and pacing through their shared wall.

Sylvain is twenty when he knocks on Ingrid’s door once more.

It swings open and he crashes into her arms.

Her hands weave through his hair and the ringing in his ears quiet.

The Professor has fallen and Sylvain watches Garreg Mach Monastery crumble before them.

He’s lived this life before, but it doesn’t make it any easier.

An arm swings around his neck and a pair of lips crash into his.

Sylvain’s heart knows her before his eyes see her.

His hands grapple for her waist and her hands shift to cup his face. Like she remembers.

Like she understands what’s going on, and she’s making up for the times that they’ve lost.

Her lips are desperate against his, her breath hot in his mouth as the salty taste of their tears hits his tongue. He doesn’t want to let go. He doesn’t want to open his eyes and re-live the chaos he remembers but still remained powerless to stop.

He doesn’t want to leave her.

Her lips are desperate against his and they finally break away, foreheads knocking almost immediately after.

Wanting to be close.

Needing to be close.

Sylvain finally opens his eyes again and Ingrid’s eyes are boring into his.

They look as old as his do.

The words are stuck in his throat. Why are you kissing me like this is the last time?

Ingrid’s lips move before his do, her words echoing with the memory of their past life. “Stay alive.”

You’ll find a way.

He smiles weakly back. “Only for you.”

Only for you.

She pulls him down to kiss him one more time, slower. Gentler.

Like it’s not the last time.

Then they separate.

Sylvain is twenty-six when Ingrid catches him by the neck and kisses him again, victory horns sounding in their ears.

That ancient box in his heart remains shut as he feels her smile into his mouth.

I’ve loved you since the very first time.

Ingrid is twenty-five when she cups Sylvain’s face to bring him closer, her lips meeting his as his arms wind around her waist, his warmth bleeding into her chest.

The silver wedding band on her finger glints under the summer sun.

#sylvgrid #sylgrid #sylvain jose gautier #ingrid brandl galatea #fe3h #my writing #triple post 2/3 #i'm literally #not getting anything done

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figurelifeflirt · 2 years

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Skate America entry #9

Women short program

Daria Usacheva(RUS)

Thoughts: knowing that this is the last time she gets to compete before her injury makes my heart hurt(she is starting to come back now a little bit. I know she was cleared for practice recently). I remember last time I saw her, making two minor stumbles in her step sequence. Was she perfect here, no but her growth is still something to be noted.

Yuhana Yokoi(JPN)

Thoughts: I feel like it’s been forever since I’ve seen her. I missed her very much.

Amber Glenn(USA)

Thoughts: when it zoomed in and you could see the whole rainbow of jewels on her collar, just gorgeous.

Starr Andrews(USA)

Thoughts: I was wondering when this dress would show up again. It looks divine on miss Starr.

Satoko Miyahara(JPN)

Thoughts: there were a couple spots during the step sequence and then right at the end where she turned on the sex. Love it.

#figure skating #daria usacheva #yuhana yokoi #amber glenn #starr andrews #satoko miyahara #skate america 2021

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incorrectfigureskatingopinions · 3 months

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AMBER GLENN US NATIONAL CHAMPION I USED TO PRAY FOR DAYS LIKE THIS

#WE DID IT JOE #not quite how i wanted it to happen but i will take it #couldn’t watch last night due to previous commitments but man oh man what a wild ride #amber glenn #amber glenn i love you forever #figure skating #us nats 2024

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solo-bolo-trollo · 6 years

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A COMPLETE LIST OF ALBUMS I LISTENED TO IN 2017

1. Brian Eno—Reflection (2017)

2. Joe Jackson & Friends—Heaven & Hell (1997)

3. The KLF—Chill Out (1990)

4. Run the Jewels—Run the Jewels 3 (2016)

5. ESG—Come Away with ESG (1983)

6. Pink Guy—Pink Season (2017)

7. Madness—The Rise and Fall (1982)

8. The xx—I See You (2017)

9. The xx—xx (2009)

10. Foxygen—Hang (2017)

11. Shackleton and Vengeance Tenfold – Sferic Ghost Transmits (2017)

12. André Previn, et. al—Jesus Christ Superstar (1973)

13. Code Orange—Forever (2017)

14. Neil Cicierega—Mouth Moods (2017)

15. Migos—C U L T U R E (2017)

16. Buscabulla—EP II (2017)

17. Allison Crutchfield—Tourist in This Town (2017)

18. Delicate Steve—This is Steve (2017)

19. Daft Punk—Homework (1997)

20. Homeshake—Fresh Air (2017)

21. Sampha—Process (2017)

22. MF Doom—Operation: Doomsday (1999)

23. Tobin Sprout—The Universe and Me (2017)

24. Syd—Fin (2017)

25. Julie Byrne—Not Even Happiness (2017)

26. The Weeknd—Starboy (2016)

27. Sinkane—Life & Livin’ It (2017)

28. William Basinski—A Shadow in Time (2017)

29. Paul White and Danny Brown—Accelerator (EP) (2017)

30. Metallica—Kill ‘Em All (1983)

31. Nas—It Was Written (1996)

32. Priests—Nothing Feels Natural (2017)

33. Urochromes—Night Bully (EP) (2017)

34. Yung Bae—Skyscraper Anonymous (2016)

35. Ty Segall—Ty Segall (2017)

36. nobigdyl. —Canopy (2017)

37. Son Volt—Notes of Blue (2017)

38. Jansport J—p h a r a o h (2017)

39. Jens Lekman—Life Will See You Now (2017)

40. Maggie Rogers—Now That the Light is Fading (EP) (2017)

41. Erykah Badu—Baduizm (1997)

42. Dirty Projectors—Dirty Projectors (2017)

43. Future—FUTURE (2017)

44. Sun Kil Moon—Common as Light and Love Are Red Valleys of Blood (2017)

45. Future—HNDRXX (2017)

46. Visible Cloaks—Reassemblage (2017)

47. Barenaked Ladies—Born on a Pirate Ship (1996)

48. Thundercat—Drunk (2017)

49. Hand Habits—Wildly Idle (Humble Before the Void) (2017)

50. Vagabon—Infinite Worlds (2017)

51. Amnesia Scanner—AS Truth (2017)

52. Mega Bog—Happy Together (2017)

53. Lin Manuel-Miranda, et. al—In the Heights (2008)

54. Chicano Batman—Freedom is Free (2017)

55. The Mountain Goats—We Shall All Be Healed (2004)

56. King Gizzard & the Lizard Wizard—Flying Microtonal Banana (2017)

57. Mark Scott—Death & All His Enemies (EP) (2017)

58. Strand of Oaks—Hard Love (2017)

59. The Magnetic Fields—50 Song Memoir (2017)

60. DMX—It’s Dark and Hell is Hot (1998)

61. Jay Som—Everybody Works (2017)

62. The Shins—Heartworms (2017)

63. Pauline Oliveros—Accordion & Voice (1982)

64. Steve Lacy—Steve Lacy’s Demo (EP) (2017)

65. Rolling Blackouts Coastal Fever—The French Press (EP) (2017)

66. Real Estate—In Mind (2017)

67. Jansport J—Pharaohmatic Immunity (2017)

68. Drake—More Life (2017)

69. Temples—Volcano (2017)

70. Anohni—Paradise (EP) (2017)

71. Diamanda Galás—All the Way (2017)

72. Kelly Lee Owens—Kelly Lee Owens (2017)

73. Paul F. Tompkins—Laboring Under Delusions: Live in Brooklyn (2012)

74. Tinariwen—Elwan (2017)

75. Gorillaz—Gorillaz (2001)

76. Hippo Campus—Landmark (2017)

77. Black Sabbath—Master of Reality (1971)

78. Liquid Liquid—Optimo (EP) (1983)

79. Hurray for the Riff Raff—The Navigator (2017)

80. Blanck Mass—World Eater (2017)

81. Beastie Boys—Hello Nasty (1998)

82. Diet Cig—Swear I’m Good at This (2017)

83. Ibibio Sound Machine—Uyai (2017)

84. Mount Eerie—A Crow Looked at Me (2017)

85. Future Islands—The Far Field (2017)

86. Boards of Canada—Music Has the Right to Children (1998)

87. Father John Misty—Pure Comedy (2017)

88. Glenn Gould—Bach: The Goldberg Variations (1956)

89. Arca—Arca (2017)

90. Sorority Noise—You’re Not As _____ As You Think (2017)

91. Gas—Pop (2000)

92. Kendrick Lamar—DAMN. (2017)

93. Passion Pit—Tremendous Sea of Love (2017)

94. Shamir—Hope (2017)

95. Portishead—Dummy (1994)

96. Tonstartssbandht—Sorcerer (2017)

97. Dr. Dre—The Chronic (1992)

98. Wiley—Godfather (2017)

99. Parliament—Mothership Connection (1975)

100. Sade—Diamond Life (1984)

101. Charly Bliss—Guppy (2017)

102. Iggy Pop—Lust for Life (1977)

103. Kasey Zoned—Isolation (EP) (2017)

104. Gorillaz—Humanz (2017)

105. Mac DeMarco—This Old Dog (2017)

106. Slowdive—Slowdive (2017)

107. The Record Company—Give It Back to You (2016)

108. Garth Brooks—No Fences (1990)

109. Gas—Narkopop (2017)

110. Girlpool—Powerplant (2017)

111. Perfume Genius—No Shape (2017)

112. Marty Robbins—Gunfighter Ballads and Trail Songs (1959)

113. The Mavericks—Brand New Day (2017)

114. Dave Malloy, et. al—Natasha, Pierre and the Great Comet of 1812 (2013)

115. The Mountain Goats—Goths (2017)

116. Temple of the Dog—Temple of the Dog (1991)

117. Soundgarden—Badmotorfinger (1991)

118. Burial—Subtemple (EP) (2017)

119. Angelo Badalamenti—Twin Peaks: Fire Walk with Me (1992)

120. Death Grips—Steroids (Crouching Tiger Hidden Gabber) (EP) (2017)

121. Various artists—Lost Highway (1997)

122. Throbbing Gristle—20 Jazz Funk Greats (1979)

123. Lil Yachty—Teenage Emotions (2017)

124. Phish—Junta (1989)

125. Talaboman—The Night Land (2017)

126. (Sandy) Alex G—Rocket (2017)

127. Burzum—Filosofem (1996)

128. Sleater-Kinney—Live in Paris (2017)

129. Power Trip—Nightmare Logic (2017)

130. Sam Gellaitry—Escapism III (EP) (2017)

131. The Cranberries—Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can’t We? (1993)

132. Bing & Ruth—No Home of the Mind (2017)

133. Luxoddo Menatti—Climbing Through Clockwork (EP) (2017)

134. Fleet Foxes—Crack-Up (2017)

135. Cashmere Cat—9 (2017)

136. Johnny Jewel—Windswept (2017)

137. Ice Cube—Death Certificate (1991)

138. Why?—Moh Llean (2017)

139. Goldie—The Journey Man (2017)

140. Lorde—Melodrama (2017)

141. Sufjan Stevens, Nico Muhly, Bryce Dessner and James McAlister—Planetarium (2017)

142. SZA—Ctrl (2017)

143. Calvin Harris—Funk Wav Bounces Vol. 1 (2017)

144. Washed Out—Mister Mellow (2017)

145. Vince Staples—Big Fish Theory (2017)

146. JAY-Z—4:44 (2017)

147. Haim—Something to Tell You (2017)

148. Moon Diagrams—Lifetime of Love (2017)

149. Various artists—Baby Driver (Music from the Motion Picture) (2017)

150. Offa Rex—The Queen of Hearts (2017)

151. Tyler, the Creator—Flower Boy (2017)

152. Timecop—You Can’t Go Back From Where You Are Right Now (EP) (2017)

153. Waxahatchee—Out in the Storm (2017)

154. DJ Sports—Modern Species (2017)

155. Ryan Adams—Prisoner (2017)

156. Guided by Voices—August by Cake (2017)

157. Paramore—After Laughter (2017)

158. Cigarettes After Sex—Cigarettes After Sex (2017)

159. Randy Newman—Dark Matter (2017)

160. Kesha—Rainbow (2017)

161. The War on Drugs—A Deeper Understanding (2017)

162. Rezz—Mass Manipulation (2017)

163. Liza Minnelli—Results (1989)

164. Various artists—Twin Peaks (Music from the Limited Event Series) (2017)

165. Various artists—Twin Peaks (Limited Event Series Original Soundtrack) (2017)

166. Iron and Wine—Beast Epic (2017)

167. Com Truise—Iteration (2017)

168. Godspeed You! Black Emperor—Luciferian Towers (2017)

169. BROCKHAMPTON—Saturation (2017)

170. LCD Soundsystem—american dream (2017)

171. Arcade Fire—Everything Now (2017)

172. Marty Stuart and His Fabulous Superlatives—Way Out West (2017)

173. Clark—Death Peak (2017)

174. Bill Murray, Jan Vogler and Friends—New Worlds (2017)

175. Aimee Mann—Mental Illness (2017)

176. The Mountain Goats—Marsh Witch Visions (EP) (2017)

177. Moses Sumney—Aromanticism (2017)

178. St. Vincent—MASSEDUCTION (2017)

179. Nina Simone—I Put a Spell on You (1965)

180. Kamasi Washington—Harmony of Difference (EP) (2017)

181. Extreme—Extreme II: Pornograffitti (1990)

182. Timecop—Diocesan Howler (EP) (2017)

183. Courtney Barnett and Kurt Vile—Lotta Sea Lice (2017)

184. Vangelis—Blade Runner (1982)

185. Julien Baker—Turn Out the Lights (2017)

186. Sam Smith—The Thrill of It All (2017)

187. Alvvays—Antisocialites (2017)

188. Björk—Utopia (2017)

189. Charlotte Gainsbourg—Rest (2017)

190. King Krule—The OOZ (2017)

191. R.E.M.—Live at the 40 Watt Club 11/19/92 (1992)

192. Kelela—Take Me Apart (2017)

193. 10,000 Maniacs—MTV Unplugged (1993)

194. Sylvan Esso—What Now (2017)

195. Beck—Colors (2017)

196. Amber Coffman—City of No Reply (2017)

197. Guided by Voices—How Do You Spell Heaven (2017)

198. Sharon Jones and the Dap-Kings—Soul of a Woman (2017)

199. 10,000 Maniacs—Our Time in Eden (1992)

#music #albums #records #2017 #rock #pop #soul #rap #jazz #experimental #electronic #alternative #r&b #comedy #ambient #folk #country #classical #punk #metal

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sinceileftyoublog · 7 years

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Pitchfork Music Festival 2017: 7/14-7/16

Clif’s Cassette Collage

BY JORDAN MAINZER

Last year’s Pitchfork featured wild-card non-headliners and a deep rest of the festival. This year? Not so much. LCD Soundsystem headlined last year’s Lollapalooza Sunday, and this year saw them headlining the first day of a smaller festival. Saturday featured a massive farewell tour in the form of A Tribe Called Quest. Sunday’s headliner was Solange, an artist coming off of her career best work that held up even in the face of her more famous sister’s equally strong work. There were reunions and rare performers. This was going to be the biggest Pitchfork ever, right?

Well, only if you’re talking about the length of the lines. Instead, Pitchfork somehow retained its intimacy (besides those lines). Much of the music was undoubtedly laid back, even the hip hop sets decidedly minimal as opposed to past ones by the likes of Kendrick Lamar and Chance the Rapper. There was room for the experimental, the theatrical, and the combination of the two. Overall, the festival continues to book daringly and, more importantly, more women and people of color than almost any other major pop music festival. Like last year, there was no one true standout the way there has been in past years, but there were still sets that exceeded, met, and performed below my expectations.

Read on as I sort the many different sets I saw into distinct categories relating to everything from content to how they fit within the quintessential festival experience.

THE NOSTALGIC

Ride

It may have been delayed by over twenty minutes. You may not have been able to hear lead singer Mark Gardener that well. Their new album may be just okay. But as soon as Ride played the opening notes to “Seagull”, you knew exactly why even a 20-years-later version of the band is booked late in the day to play a major festival. Simply put, the songs from Nowhere and their early EPs were flat-out gorgeous.

The Feelies

Talk about a band that takes their time, whether it’s releasing albums or even just building up a song. The Feelies took from their earliest (Crazy Rhythms and The Good Earth) and their latest (2011′s Here Before and this year’s In Between). Lead singer Glenn Mercer’s gentle voice may have sounded a bit weak at times, but the band’s jangly guitar pop and krautrock arrangements were perfect for grooving on a temperate Saturday afternoon.

Arab Strap

One of the best sets of the festival came from a band that I love that I totally expected to not translate live. The Scottish electronica-imbued spoken word from Arab Strap sounded great, with more singing and noise than expected. Front-man Aidan Moffat sucked down Four Star Pilsners and complained how hot the stage was as if they were litanies in one of his songs. His penchant for remembering the lyrics of his own songs is impressive, and even if he had to read them by the time the anthemic “The First Big Weekend” came along, he was just as much the star of the show as the rest of the band.

THE OLD-TIMEY

Hamilton Leithauser

The Walkmen were always a band whose slower songs recalled waltzes or stories told by your grandparents. Hamilton Leithauser & Rostam Batmanglij’s I Had A Dream That You Were Mine one-upped that last year, with its clinking pianos and string flourishes going for an unabashedly retro aesthetic, including everything from doo wop to folktales. Live, Leithauser and his band recreated that perfectly. He’s always had a hell of a voice, his wail equally as strong as his Dylan-esque sneer. “Rough Going (I Won’t Let Up)” was an exemplary intro, “A 1000 Times” a giant sing-along, “1959″ an effective vocal solo as opposed to the duet album version.

As Joey Purp played from the Blue Stage, Leithauser recalled being sonically overwhelmed by the nearby XX. “Everybody left NYC...because they couldn’t afford a practice space without a fucking band next door,” he shared before launching into the gorgeous “Where The Truth Is...” Old and bitter’s never sounded so sweet.

THE MELANCHOLY

Angel Olsen

As a band in matching suits entered the stage, I thought to myself, “Am I really about to see Angel Olsen?” The last time I had seen her was at Lincoln Hall on the Burn Your Fire For No Witness Tour, and apparently, she’s gotten way bigger since then. Her set started out strong with some country-indebted kiss offs: “High & Wild”, “Shut Up Kiss Me”, “Give It Up”, and “Not Gonna Kill You” all retained both the treble-heavy sheen and lyrical rawness of their studio versions. But the back half of the set was enough to put you to sleep in succession. Half Way Home’s “Acrobat” is a great song, as is “Sister”, the laid-back and jazzy “Those Were The Days”, and “Woman”, but after the first four in a row, they only served to bring you down.

Weyes Blood

Natalie Mering’s amazing, Joni Mitchell-esque voice is best suited for a club setting. Even last year’s Weyes Blood album Front Row Seat to Earth, a characteristically upbeat one for Mering’s standards, is not really ideal for a weekend day festival slot. Her voice on “Generation Why” and “Used to Be” was stunning and she either sang by herself on stage or played keys in front of her band, and the lap steel guitar on “Seven Words” gave a haunting quality to that song, but the set overall was too low key to keep non-die hard fans interested.

THE MIND-NUMBING

Colin Stetson

You know what you're getting with Colin Stetson, but that doesn’t stop him from mesmerizing me every time. His Pitchfork set was his most impressive from a curatorial standpoint. Stetson picked songs that showed off his limber playing (“The Righteous Wrath of an Honorable Man”), creative percussion (“Judges”), and even Aphex Twin influences (“Between Water and Wind). Earlier this year, Stetson released an album that was good but didn’t offer much new, but during his Pitchfork set, Not one song sounded like another.

William Tyler

The word “virtuoso” is tossed around a lot, but it’s actually appropriate for William Tyler. With a great band at his side (including Phil Cook, doing double duty with Tyler and Hiss Golden Messenger), Tyler played most of last year’s Modern Country to sheer perfection. From the summery “Sunken Garden” to the described “country meets krautrock” of “I’m Gonna Live Forever”, the set was unexpectedly loud and jammy. The percussion breakdown of “Gone Clear” was even more haunting than it was on record, “The Great Unwind” noisy. He closed with “Highway Anxiety”, whose recognizable opening riffs caused anything but a sense of dread--more a sense of comfort and calm amidst a sea of festival-goers.

THE BLISTERING

Jeff Rosenstock

The most energetic set of the festival came from something I never thought I’d ever hear at Pitchfork: something resembling ska. Indeed, Jeff Rosenstock and his band played songs off of last year’s Worry to devoted fans who knew every single word. Rosenstock took the opportunity to do what he usually does--be a shithead with a sense of humor. The dynamic frontman walked out to Weird “Al” Yankovich Red Hot Chili Peppers parody “Bedrock Anthem”. He had the crowd do two different waves. He had a couple great wisecracks (“I'd like to give a shout-out to the Pitchfork worker who got fired for booking us at this festival.”) and admitted that he and his band received $7,500 to play, a hefty sum for self-labelled shitty punks but not for pretty much anybody else. All this Rosenstock brought with the desire to get the crowd to shout along, mosh, and look out for each other.

The crowd moshes--and cools off with sprayed water--during Jeff Rosenstock

Danny Brown

I’ve seen Danny Brown 3 times at Pitchfork alone, and he gets bigger and better every time. Far from the sex-obsessed weirdo who had just released XXX a year prior in 2012 (ok, not that far), this year’s clean-cut Brown didn’t need much besides his usual DJ. Without much of a breath, he burned through favorites like “Side B (Dope Song)”, “Monopoly”, and “Growin’ Up” before playing off of last year’s landmark Atrocity Exhibition. The four-punch of “Ain’t It Funny”, “Really Doe” (which he impressively delivered considering the best part of that song is Earl Sweatshirt’s verse), “When It Rain”, and “Pneumonia” showed that every time the workman comes to Pitchfork, he has a new batch to add to his growing list of classics.

THE POLITICAL

Madame Gandhi

Four years ago, Madame Gandhi found herself on a Pitchfork stage drumming for M.I.A. Four years later, she opened up Pitchfork on the same stage, this time her own show. She still did plenty of drumming--as did many of her dancers, all clad in yellow hazmat-looking suits--but mostly rapped and ready feminist literature. Too easy? Maybe, but the energy she brought to even a capella performances of her songs attracted crowd members looking to dance and feel empowered.

Priests

"You want something to move away for / A reason to colonize,” belted Priests singer Katie Alice Greer. Her stage presence and siren of a voice may have distracted a festival crowd from how subversive her lyrics are, especially on catchy songs like “JJ” and post-punk stompers like “Nothing Feels Natural”. Priests aren’t a perfect live band, either; the guitars on “JJ” were a bit out of tune, bassist Taylor Multiz’s mic was turned down too far on “Suck”, and “Nicki” was messy. But what’s important is that the same band who released Nothing Feels Natural was on display. (Drummer Daniele Daniele admirably performing the spoken word of “No Big Bang” was certainly a highlight). Love ‘em or hate ‘em, there’s nobody like Priests.

THE DISAPPOINTING

Dirty Projectors

Dirty Projectors played Pitchfork in 2012 at the top of their game, Amber Coffman and company’s harmonies the clear highlight, Dave Longstreth’s melodies and craftsmanship translating to the stage. This time around, even with the help of former Battles member Tyondai Braxton, it was painful. “Impregnable Question” missed Coffman. Longstreth’s singing on “Keep Your Name” was as out of tune as Brian Wilson was last year. “Little Bubble” failed to captivate anybody. “Up In Hudson”, the most in-tune, still ended up boring me to the point that I wanted to wait for Arca more than watch Longstreth continue to fall apart in front of an audience.

George Clinton

I could tell that George Clinton and Parliament/Funkadelic were amazing, great players, funk masters, and rappers. But this was just the classic case of bad sound and mic leveling issues making what could have been a highlight set exactly that: a big “what if.”

THE DAY-SAVING

Nicolas Jaar

At first minimal and noisy, which didn’t go well among the crowd dealing with the uncharacteristically dwindling July evening temperatures, Nicolas Jaar eventually led into a bass-heavy set more dance than anyone could have imagined. He occasionally sang-spoke into the mic but mostly stood at his laptops, his stage lights a blazing orange, his music drowning out American Football on the Blue Stage. For those wanting a party set from The Avalanches, who had to cancel their performance, this was the next best thing.

A Tribe Called Quest

I could have put A Tribe Called Quest’s set in many of these categories, but when they came on, all I could think about was how thankful I was to hear something truly energetic. The pinnacle of all no-bullshit hip-hop sets at Pitchfork, the now-trio launched right into “The Space Program” from last year’s excellent We Got It From Here… Thank You 4 Your Service. From there, they played highlights from that album but mixed in all the classics: “Excursions”, “Bonita Applebum”, “Electric Relaxation”, “Check the Rhyme”, “Can I Kick It?”, and “Award Tour”. Q Tip not only rapped but sounded great--at a stage earlier in the day experiencing sound problems, his voice rang clearly to a crowd wanting to hear him preach. Best, when any Phife Dawg verse came up, they let it play sans interruption, the screens on each side of the stage focusing on the empty microphone.

LCD Soundsystem

If I had to withstand any of Dirty Projectors and then leave Arca early, then LCD better put on a show. They did. They headlined in 2010 around the release of This Is Happening, maybe the best show I’ve ever seen. This time around, they played virtually the same set they did last year at Lollapalooza plus the two released new songs, the building “Call the Police” and night-time ditty “American Dream”. They may be a bigger band now, and they’re certainly older, but in the time they’ve been gone, you grow to appreciate not just their live brilliance, but their ability to get even curmudgeons to dance. Murphy may still be snotty; thankfully, he can still write great songs.

THE EARNEST

Vagabon

Infinite Worlds, the debut album from Vagabon, is one of the strongest debuts of the year, so it was quite the move to open with one of its most powerful songs, the slow-building “Cold Apartment”. The rest of the set, though, showed off singer and guitarist Laetitia Tamko’s finger picking and vocals. Her voice in particular was beautiful when isolated among minimal instrumentation, though at times when she tried to rise above louder songs she was out of tune. Even if not picture perfect, Tamko was not only happy to be there but left it all out on stage, performing album highlights like “Cleaning House” and “The Embers”.

The crowd watching Vagabon very intently

Hiss Golden Messenger

Hiss Golden Messenger’s brand of country rock may have fallen on deaf ears at a festival very slowly embracing genres previously maligned by the bleeding edge hip. But that’s not the fault of the band. Running through tracks from Haw, Lateness of Dancers, Heart Like a Levee, and an upcoming album, they may not have won any new fans but confirmed for the faithful why they belonged, their pleasant and easy going instrumentation and lead singer M.C. Taylor’s existential laments making for a reflective set. Their final song, a new one called “When the Wall Comes Down”, is about exactly what you think it’s about (wait six more months for an overabundance of released “wall”-related recordings), but it was none the less powerful and a statement of togetherness.

THE THEATRICAL

Kilo Kish

The set from frequent Vince Staples collaborator Kilo Kish started out with her sitting on a chair reading a copy of The New Yorker, pretending not to notice the audience. You can guess where it went from there. While her voice always sounded good, her interpretive dancing, props, and forced falls to the stage made me want to roll my eyes more than clap. With only a DJ to back her up with tracks--a strange mix of R&B, hip hop, and jazz beats--it made for one of the more disappointing fests of the festival.

PJ Harvey

The last two albums from PJ Harvey--2011′s instant classic Let England Shake and 2016′s mediocre The Hope Six Demolition Project--are both concept albums. When the first nine songs you play are from those albums, and in mixed order, it comes across like a Decemberists set on steroids. Entering with a marching band (her band consisted of both longtime collaborator John Parish and the very active ex-Bad Seed Mick Harvey) and a sax in her hand, Harvey came across as equally witchy and goofy. The jazzy “Let England Shake” went along with the black and white video of the performance, but it wasn’t until she performed three 90s favorites that the crowd went wild--“50ft Queenie”, “Down By The Water”, and “To Bring You My Love”. For how good those three sounded, the set was worth it.

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