#the entire third chorus just- just this song

[anxiouspotatorants]

So «True Blue» by boygenius fits Rory and Jess, it fits Rory and Paris, it fits Rory and Lane, it fits any other combination with two or three of these people and it fits the full quartet change my mind please

[bookshopsbizarreblog]

Can we talk about how good the Moon Mining song in Midst S3E14 - Shindig is? Like, I've heard lots of songs across the various podcasts I've listened to, some of them quite good. But I have yet to encounter one that was situated in the story as masterfully as the Moon Mining song, or that conveys a fraction of the emotionality. Even without getting into story spoilers, the (at least seemingly) improvised nature of each verse, the layering of shouts and cheers and merry heckling to create a whole crowd leaning into it, the way each character expresses themself and their situation (and is expressed to us as the audience), and even just the way the song is introduced paint such a vibrant and lively setting. The entire 5-ish minutes just radiates a community coming together and having fun.

S2E4 - Weather used to be my favorite episode, as someone who has a deep love of cosmic horror and general eldritch shenans, but I've gone back to Shindig at least seven or eight times just to listen and relisten to that single song. I can't imagine not getting swept up in the revelry, and its position within the episode (and season overall) just sells it so much harder. More concrete spoilers beneath the cut.

If you haven't listened to Midst, please do. Gracious goodness, it's so good.

The entire episode is a rollercoaster of highs and lows for these characters and the community of Stationary Hill that we've gotten to love at this point. Sherman and Tzila finally arrive home, to celebration and joy. The community is barely recognizable but we've seen them band together and rebuild. And at a pinnacle of tension, after the gut punches of Hieronymus' confession to Saskia and the Vault demolition plan and Weepe's victory over Kozma, we finally get a brief break. But even that break is tainted with uncertainty and pain. Right before the song begins, we get Emmet's toast to the fallen, Sherman's uncertainty and fear of staying in Stationary Hill, all the festivities and merriment tinged bittersweet. And then the catharsis hits. It's not announced as a song. It's not a side bar where the ambiance cuts away so a tune can be inserted above the story. All we know is that Goe is getting on stage, and the narrators are saying we're missing something, but what? "That's right." "It wouldn't be a party on Midst without-" "Goe: It's time, you dang raskals!"

It's like the podcast version of show, don't tell. They could have laid out that a song was coming up. They could have even just launched into it. But by merely having uncertain build up and sudden increasing excitement and anticipation from the crowd, we get dragged along with it too. Straight from all the emotions of the previous conversations into this building energy with no clear outlet. It isn't until the cheers and diegetic voices demand "that friggin' moon tune," now that we are also fully on board, that the end point is revealed. And then it slaps.

The different methods of singing for each person, of which Saskia and Ettie (x2) and Ned (whose voice makes me understand the random background lady) stand out the most. Bets and Walter's and Tzila all representing different versions of how a kid would approach being asked to sing in front of their entire community. Sylvester and the chanting and everyone joining in on the chorus and the way each person's verse is a snippet of their life and perspective and situation and story without it being overbearing. It just. The whole thing. It screams of the close-knit Stationary Hill community, which then also pays off in another big way during the last episode.

I highly recommend listening to the song again, with headphones and the volume cranked up to get the full experience if you haven't already. I'm losing my mind over this song. If tumblr woulda let me, I would have just uploaded the full 5:19 clip I isolated, but unfortunately it wound up being too big to post. So here's the link to the time where the song specifically starts.

Thank you so much Third Person ( @midstpodcast ) for creating such a full and magical world.

[cleolinda]

(For our purposes, listen to it without the visuals first.)

I wasn't going to keep posting about Unreal Unearth, but something happened yesterday.

It's been five months since I first heard this song, and I'm still astonished by it. You know the tiktok skit about the Star Wars wedding music, and the guy is grooving along until the Imperial Death March filters in, and then he's kind of alarmed, like, wha—? And then he realizes it slaps anyway and he keeps dancing? That is "Eat Your Young."

It's the morning of March 17th. The EP with the first three singles from the new album has dropped. I've got my phone blasting the song on the bathroom counter, I don't understand half what the man is saying nor did I expect to, I'm cheerfully mumbling along in the shower, grooving along,

wait they did what for a war drum

Get some Pull up the ladder when the flood comes Throw enough rope until the legs have swung Seven new ways that you can eat your young Come and get some Skinning the children for a war drum Putting food on the table selling bombs and guns It's quicker and easier to eat your young

What the fuck, this song goes so hard. That's the chorus. The conceit of the whole album is that it loosely follows Dante's Inferno, so this is the third circle of hell, gluttony. Hozier himself says that he wasn't specifically thinking of Jonathan Swift's A Modest Proposal—

“I don’t know how intentional the reference to Jonathan Swift was in this. That essay [Swift’s 1729 satirical essay A Modest Proposal in which he suggests the Irish poor sell their children as food] is such a cultural landmark that it’s just hanging in the air. I was more reflecting on what I felt now in this spirit of the times of perpetual short-term gain and a long-term blindness. The increasing levels of precarious living, poverty, job insecurity, rental crisis, property crisis, climate crisis, and a generation that’s inheriting all of that and one generation that’s enjoyed the spoils of it. The lyrics are direct, but the voice is playful. There’s this unreliable narrator who relishes in this thing which was fun to write.” [Apple Music album notes]

—and I believe him. The song's not a suggestion, a proposal; it's an invitation to atrocity in progress. I also believe he probably wasn't thinking of Greta Thunberg's iconic speech at the UN Climate Action Summit, not specifically, but that's what I hear in the song, like the flip side of a coin:

You have stolen my dreams and my childhood with your empty words. And yet I'm one of the lucky ones. People are suffering. People are dying. Entire ecosystems are collapsing. We are in the beginning of a mass extinction, and all you can talk about is money and fairy tales of eternal economic growth. How dare you! [...] You say you hear us and that you understand the urgency. But no matter how sad and angry I am, I do not want to believe that. Because if you really understood the situation and still kept on failing to act, then you would be evil.

I feel like on some level, even coincidentally, "Eat Your Young" is the answer to the question, what would you sound like if you were that evil? Who would you be? I can think of a dozen possibilities just off the top of my head or looking around my blog, from something as petty as studio executives mangling trees to deprive striking workers of shade (while hoping they lose their homes), all the way up to the US school-to-prison pipeline. The National Rifle Association keeps politicians in its pocket while the US has more mass shootings than days in a year, Nestlé fucks shit up around the world as a way of life, even ChatGPT sucks up water while threatening jobs—and for what? And yet, I promise you most of these things weren't the inspiration for an Irishman’s song—some of them hadn't even happened yet. There's just that much fresh You Would Be Evil to go around. I am certain that Hozier wrote the song partly about (as one article puts it) "Ireland's housing crisis: Millennials, a generation sacrificed," given that time back in the day when he helped occupy a building—a housing crisis happening in multiple countries. There's so much of the world I'm not touching on. I can stuff a paragraph with links and it's utterly inadequate.

I haven't even mentioned war.

There's an overwhelming sense this decade of the future being fed into a meat grinder. That sense is in this song. What would it sound like to be in the head of someone who didn't give a shit about anything but profit? Well, it might sound like this.

And if you haven't heard it, well—I'm going to sound absolutely out of my mind after saying all that, but "Eat Your Young" has a beat and you can dance to it. It's sexy. And I'm certain that's on purpose. You get seduced into the sound of it, as if by something demonic, something that enjoys sucking down the future and is not going to stop. And the sheer fucking catchiness of the song keeps you listening to it—thinking about it—when maybe you push away the dry headlines we get everyday. If you let this song stay in your head, it becomes a lens. Five months later, I still think about it when I read the news. Maui was on fire and tourists stayed. Within days, the prospect of developers swooping in to buy up land reared its head. If there's something still to take, there is ground to break, whatever's still to come. Get some.

I was born in 1978 —I'm late Gen X. In my forties, I'm young enough to worry about the future still; I’m neither so rich that I can just plan to retire to Mars, nor so old that I can know I'll be safely gone before the world might go up in flames. But I'm also not my nephew, whose school year just started back up, or the neighborhood kids who race him home down the sidewalk in the afternoons. Yesterday, he had his very first mass-shooter lockdown drill. He’s six.

I think music can put the feeling back into numb fingers, and I think that's why "Eat Your Young" works so well—Hozier calls the song fun and playful, and I think you have to have that, something you can live with rather than just switch off for your own mental survival. We need music to feed spirit at protests; we need something to keep our feet moving. Don’t give up, don't close your eyes and slip away. Those kids, they have dreams we could try to steal back for them.

Since I mentioned Maui:

Why Hawaiian sovereignty has undeniable context for the Maui fires

The Climate Crisis and Colonialism Destroyed My Maui Home. Where We Must Go From Here

How You Can Donate and Help Support Maui Communities Right Now

The Maui Strong Fund

[lottluvs]

✉️ → there is something about lottie matthews being paired with the song ‘brutus’ that seems so right tbh ? like not so much the first part of the song, but the parts about wanting change and control , as well as FORCED acceptance and manipulation . it’s so easy to connect her to the lyrics too . something about her gaze and how eerie she becomes throughout the season(s) . . . specifically in the linked images , those scenes i feel fit with the song heavily . . . lottie matthews the woman you are . REQUESTS ARE OPEN ! ! request . . i don’t bite . . . 🌱 “ That I helped return good to the people And restored greatness to Rome . . . “ lyrical breakdown (kinda) ↡

“ . . . My name is Brutus and my name means heavy So with a heavy heart I'll guide this dagger into the heart of my enemy My whole life, you were a teacher and friend to me Please know my actions are not motivated only by envy I, too, have a destiny This death will be art The people will speak of this day from near and afar This event will be history, and I'll be great too I don't want what you have, I want to be you

I always knew I could be the one Though I feel the endless pain of being And I am scorched by the Sun Of humble origins and born of the cursed sex My name is Brutus, but the people will call me Rex . “

➤ the first one is kind of easy to hint at l it’s just talking about how lottie feels like SHE is saving the team through being the messenger of the wilderness .

➤ typically, charlotte is a popular queen / monarch name due to king charles, possibly linking her and her relationship with the antler queen .

➤ the third and fourth line kinda remind me of the scene of the bear, but also the sacrifice that is made regarding the cards , and how lottie always wields a knife, as for the fourth line this could be talking about the wildernesses influence and lotties hinted schizophrenia from a young age .

➤ the last chunk from the first chorus could mean so many things , the art of death , or rather making death present itself as beautiful ( through sacrifice , making it seem morally right by saying it’ll save everyone else ( it’s not ! ) ) , and how the crash would be talked about up until current era , and mentioned for many more years to come ( and even influence people all around them )

➤ the last bit entirely just is like talking about how lottie feels like she was the chosen one , of humble origins , changing overtime .

➤ “ my name is charlotte matthews , but the people will call me the antler queen . “

i lovm herrrrrohmygod she fills my brain with so many thoughtttsssssss………. ugh

.𖦹₊⊹ 🌱

[pickmedolls]

✸﹏𓉸ྀི ݁ ˖ ◜GET READY! DOLL SUMMER IS HERE!!

DOLL SUMMER is the third mini album of Heartbreak’s beloved girl group Pick Me. It was released on July 10th, 2024 and featured the tittle track STICKY, which they promoted alongside the lead track ACT LIKE AN ANGEL for four weeks. During this time, they performed STICKY thirteen times, and ACT LIKE AN ANGEL another six. In addition, the girls performed each of remaining the tracks at least once, making the total of twenty-six performances from which twenty-two earned them a win.

GET YOUR PHOTOCARDS HERE!!

⁰¹ STICKY ⁰² GET HIM BACK! ⁰³ CALL ME (4 A GOOD TIME) ⁰⁴ HOW MANY LOVERS? ⁰⁵ ACT LIKE AN ANGEL

⁰¹ The title track might just be the most controversial song on the album. With Pick Me’s carefree and unfiltered style, it’s almost a given that they’ll face backlash for being too bold and "tarnishing" the reputation of K-pop. With STICKY, the drama erupted over its choreography and revealing outfits. Used to this kind of drama, Yue and Kiko went live, with Yue declaring: “Look, I’m done repeating myself. We’re real people, not company-controlled idols. If we want to wear cute little sundresses and shake our asses in our songs, that’s our call. Stop being a fucking pain in the ass and go stan someone else. Honestly, we couldn’t care less”, to which Kiko would add: “And we’re all adults, for you information. We’re allow to twerk on camera.”

⁰² Rumor has it that Jules and Rosie wrote this song with a particular name in mind. Shortly after the group’s debut, both girls found themselves caught up in a rumor claiming they were romantically involved with the same guy, who was allegedly cheating on one with the other. The guy in question was said to be none other than Lee Junseo, a well-known soloist under IDOL MAKER and former groupmate of Jules, artistically known as JUNO. Although the rumor was never confirmed by the companies or those involved, it was never denied either. Years later, with the release of their mini-album, the fire has reignited, and fans are convinced that GET HIM BACK is a silent confirmation of the rumor.

⁰³ CALL ME (4 A GOOD TIME) is yet another testament to the girls’ vocal prowess and their commitment to delivering live. This track is the only one on the album that got its own Band Live Version, quickly becoming a stan Twitter classic for shutting down any haters who doubt their live performance skills. Microphones were on, and the girls ate and left no crumbs! All drama aside, this song is an uncommon occurrence because Yue rarely produces and writes entire tracks on her own.

⁰⁴ No Pick Me album is complete without a Jules-produced banger to let loose and dance until you drop. HOW MANY LOVERS? aligns with the album’s overall sound but adds Jules’ signature fresh and playful twist. Her solo fans devoured the song and made sure stan Twitter was flooded with her fancams. To top it off, the girls released a series of TikTok videos under the hashtag #LoversParty!, where they danced to the chorus alongside various idols, with quick-cut edits switching from one person to another—if you haven’t seen it yet, you’ll want to check out the video above.

⁰⁵ Produced by Heidi, a regular in the girls' discography, ACT LIKE AN ANGEL is the album's most viral track. This comes as no surprise, since all of Heidi's productions tend to become fan favorites, often driving the most traction and success. Heidi's journey as a producer for Pick Me dates back to the girls' debut, when she was personally sought out by Heartbreak to produce Angel of My Dreams, the first of many bops to her name.

ARTISTS CREDITED ﹏ Finn (@bluwavez) ✸ Heidi (@allta1k)

✸﹏Fuck Brat Summer, it’s Doll Summer all along!

✸﹏In an episode of Doll Diaries, the hit behind-the-scenes mini-series for Pick Me, fans caught a bit of drama in the background of one scene. You can hear Sylvia Hara, the group’s creative director and manager, and Yue having a pretty heated conversation off to the side. The mics barely picked it up, but after hours of replaying the clip, fans are convinced Sylvia was going off on Yue for her attitude during one of the group’s win performances, where she looked pissed at Rosie and Jules.

Different fan accounts have slightly different takes, but the general gist of the convo goes something like this: “Yue, you’re not fucking five years old. I don’t give a shit how you feel about them or what you think off-camera. When the cameras are rolling, you cut the crap and smile. I’m done with this bullshit.”

Yue’s solo stans immediately jumped to defend her when the other girls’ solo fans tried to paint her as a bully. She later took to Twitter, claiming it was all just a misunderstanding and that she was having a bad day during the performance. Even Kiko chimed in, saying that everything’s good between the members and that their relationship is actually super close.

✸﹏The girls promoted…[ERROR_NOT FOUND]

[matan4il]

Daily update post:

Three more bodies were retrieved from Gaza by the IDF and identified. At least two of them were Israelis taken hostage on Oct 7, who were seen alive in vids published by Hamas as they were being led away, and today it was confirmed that they were murdered in captivity by these terrorists. They were both 19 years old. On the right is Ron Sherman. On the left is his friend, Nick Bizer. In the middle are the last text messages Ron sent to his mom. They read, "Bye mom, I love you all" (followed by five heart emojies), then "That's it," "They're here" and "It's over."

The third body was identified as 28 years old Elia Toledano. He was kidnapped by Hamas terrorists from the Nova music festival on Oct 7. As far as I can tell, there's no confirmation yet of when he was killed.

May their memories be a blessing.

The IDF revealed today how Hamas is trying to lure Israeli soldiers into an ambush in a booby trapped area, with armed terrorists lying in wait: by using child-shaped mannequins, school bags and speakers playing recordings in Hebrew and of sobbing, to make the soldiers think hostages might be held there.

Yesterday, the IDF finished a 60 hours operation in Jenin, where the Palestinian Authority is supposed to be responsible to fight against Hamas and terrorism, but in reality, the PA does nothing. This was the longest IDF operation in Jenin since Opoeration Defensive Shield (Mar to May 2002, which started following a wave of suicide bombings, and specifically after the murderous terrorist attack on Park Hotel in Netanya, where Jews eating a Passover meal together were targeted and murdered). During the operation that ended yesterday, the IDF uncovered 10 shafts leading to terror tunnels. That's not in Gaza. Let that sink in.

Also, if you see anyone saying, "But Hamas only operates in Gaza!" you'll know they're either ignorant or lying. Hamas only rules Gaza, but it absolutely operates outside it.

Another case in point for that last statement, that Hamas operates outside of Gaza, too. Remember that I posted in my daily update yesterday about the people arrested for having intended to carry out a terrorist attack against Jews in Denamrk? We have more info about that now, and it turns out that 7 people were arrested in total, not just 4, and that they were arrested in 3 countries, not just 2 (so in addition to arrests in Denmark and the Netherlands, terrorists were arrested in Germany as well), and most importantly, the people arrested included Hamas terrorists.

Again, let that sink in. When we tell you that Hamas wants to kill all Jews in the world, that's not just idle talk. It's not just a recent statement, either. Here's a Hamas senior stating as much back in 2019, and they also said as much in their founding charter.

Maybe just as importantly, these terrorists were taken down thanks to the Mossad's work.

So when we tell you that Jews are safer with Israel existing, that's not just in the case of Jews finding sanctuary from danger in Israel. That's true as well. But there can be Jews, even anti-Zionist Jews, who will lead their entire lives outside of Israel, never realizing that behind the scenes, an antisemitic terrorist attack that could have killed them, was stopped thanks to the fact that the Mossad (Israel's equivalent of the CIA) is in charge not only of protecting Israelis worldwide from terrorist attacks, it's responsible for the safety of all Jews. That's the kind of protection people would rob Jews of, when they advocate for the destruction of Israel, or even "just" the destruction of Israel as a Jewish state.

I thought this was a great response. From Letters to the Editor, Los Angeles Times:

Hanukkiahs lit in honor of the Israeli hostages, in the Jewish Quarter of the Old City of Jerusalem, on the last night of Hanukkah (the song is Come Back by Idan Raichel, performed by Roni Delumi, and its chorus goes, "Come back, come back, today / I so wanted you to arrive / I wish you'd come without announcing it this very day"):

These are 26 years old Yovel Sharvit and 27 years old Mor Trabelsi:

They married exactly a month before the Hamas massacre. On Oct 7, they were at the Nova music festival. Yovel survived, but Mor was shot to death in front of her eyes. Yovel participated as a model in a special fashion show, meant to call attention to the victims of Hamas, and especially to the sexual violence perpetrated that day. Yovel wore a wedding dress reminiscent of her own, with blood stains on, and groping hands. The dress also features sentences in Hebrew and Arabic that Yovel heard on or about that day. The dress is torn at the top, as per Jewish mourning customs. The make up artist recreated Yovel's real wounds on her back, and just as importantly, the deadly gunshot wound that killed Mor, on Yovel's forehead.

(for all of my updates and ask replies regarding Israel, click here)

[letters-adressed-to-the-fire]

pov: you’re addicted to the “if-onlys” (or me when I’m over-analyzing Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus)

Yes, I’m gonna analyze the entire song. No, I don’t need an introduction. Yes, let’s dive into it.

Let’s start with the very interesting use of the word "hologram".

"Your hologram stumbled into my apartment"

We’ve seen Taylor use "phantom" and "ghost" to talk about past relationships in other songs (for example: loml), but we’ve never seen her use "hologram." Why? Well, this suggests she might be talking about something more present, as if the relationship had become so worn out that he stopped being a real person to her and turned into a hologram—something close yet untouchable.

But, this line, followed by “hands in the hair of somebody in darkness” paints a picture of someone cheating. So, even if Taylor intended this, the ambiguous nature of the verse means it’s necessary to approach it from a different angle too.

Yes, the idea of her coming into her apartment and being followed by the presence of the person she loved, does resembles the idea of a ghost. But the use of "hologram" indicates something different this time, she’s talking about the person’s current actions, and given Taylor’s past relationships with famous people, it makes sense that she would know when they started seeing someone new.

So, what does this mean? With these lines Taylor is bringing a completely different emotion to the song, one that permeates throughout: The rarely discussed how, when someone you loved starts moving on, you’re left wondering, "Why am I staying behind?" and "Why does it still hurt?"; and how this can lead to drowning in "what ifs" and trying to remember why it didn’t work out.

"As the decade would play us for fools And you saw my bones out with somebody new Who seemed like he would've bullied you in school"

In the same note, this part of the verse mirrors Taylor's narrative but from the guy’s point of view. She’s now saying the same thing happened to him.

There’s something common in both perspectives tho, Taylor is not just saying “you’re with someone else”, she’s saying “you’re with someone else and that makes me angry”. In the first lines, the mention of names like "Chloe or Sam or Sophia or Marcus" emphasizes her anger and condescension, showing that she doesn’t care about the specifics of who he’s with, just that it’s not her. Paralleling this, the line “who seemed like he would’ve bullied you in school” suggests she’s trying to provoke her ex by mentioning something that would bother him, not because the new partner is a bully (obviously), but because it’s a sore spot for her ex.

"And I just watched it happen" "And you just watched it happen"

Here, we are already introduced to one of the key elements of the song: the act of watching. Throughout all the song, Taylor will resort to this bit to depict a sense of helplessness.

In the first verse, it is used to portray how both parts of the relationship watched each other drift apart without trying to reconcile.

“And I couldn't watch it happen” “And you just watched it”

In the second verse, she couldn’t bear to watch, indicating she took action to stay away from him; which was also possible because the guy didn’t do anything to stop her.

“Like it never happened?” “It just didn't happen”

By the third verse, she dropped this act of watching, now she’s stating facts and contemplating whether pretending it never happened is a viable way to move on.

Now, we’ll move to the chorus.

To start, we need to discuss the double meaning behind the line “I loved you the way that you were”: Did he love her for who she was without needing to change, or did he only love a past version of her? Both interpretations are equally devastating.

“If you wanna tear my world apart Just say you've always wondered”

Then we are presented to the most heart-wrenching part of the song. Taylor is already wondering, and it would destroy her to know she’s not alone in this. This could mean either she’s hoping to get back together, or she fears she’ll never move on. Imagining a scenario where they meet years later and he admits he’s always wondered about their potential could terrify her, showing how significant this person was to her.

*Part 2 in a few days!!! I'll be discussing some metaphors and some alternative interpretations (because I'm me and I love to complicate things)*

[nocompassnosign]

share what clicked about chloe or sam bestie!!

ok so full disclosure this is just how i see it based on vibes, listening to it an extreme amount of times and forcing myself to meditate on it because it was driving me crazy more so than any other song on the album.

the first thing that i could not figure out but that felt very important was the title name. i just think that taylor is either very specific with title names or the name is the name for obvious reasons (main phrase in the chorus). and i believe she went with the very long and demanding to be questioned title because it summarizes the song in that all those names are each different individuals and it doesn't necessarily matter who they are but just that they are separate people, so i think the song is also about multiple individuals and it doesn't matter who they really are what matters is they are all people she's loved or cared deeply for and that ultimately didn't work out BUT what if....

which brought me to the conclusion that the song is basically just the entire thesis of midnights wrapped into one song. why did these old relationships end? it keeps her up in the middle of the night until she sees phantoms of things that never were. in the third verse she even references midnights by saying scarlet maroon and by asking multiple questions...?

i also think the song is very reminiscent of what we've learned through the vaults which is that taylor knows when something is love and doesn't understand why her partner can't also see it. so she states 'if you want to break my cold cold heart just say "i loved you the way that you were"' it's painful to think wow maybe i didn't need to reinvent myself after every relationship ended to be a "better girl" maybe they really did love me all along and had their own issues for why they couldn't tell me.

i’ve already made this too long but i could truly go line by line and interpret how this song is just midnights summarized. i think the verses represent different people she's loved and i think the bridge represents the what if and the knowledge that we can never change what we missed out on so i guess we can just pretend it would have been magical. "you could break me open if you just tell me you really did love me then, and you do still think about it" it's sad in a way where she feels this is her legacy, forever being the one that got away.

[tennco]

Yukari Yakumo and music

i'm not one to think much about yukari tbh, but something that always stood out for me was her music themes. far from being my favorites but they do a great job at communicating what her character is, or at least how she appears to anyone else who meets her.

they all have this imposing and oppressive air about them, fitting for miss sage of gensokyo, one of the most powerful youkai to exist, whose mere presence strikes fear into those of lesser will. the way i see it, in a way she kinda is the embodiment of fear, the fear of youkai, of the night, of the unknown. Night Falls ~ Evening Star i think is the best at conveying this feeling, most of the song using dissonance to that end, specially with all the piano hits. it's disorienting, it's tense. but then you get to the chorus and it's a bit of a different story, a lot more majestic, overwhelming almost, like we know she's the kind to use underhanded methods to get what she wants but she can actually back it up should it reach that point. it's a battle you can't win, or at least one you can't win in a meaningful way. there's no point in opposing her. i don't have much to say about the arrangement in AoCF, it's the same turned up to 11. and it goes hard.

her original theme Necrofantasia goes full force into that latter feeling. it's just completely overbearing, suffocating, like you don't even have time to process the threat in front of you, to comprehend what's going on. i think a lot of that comes from the bass because god fucking knows what that bass is doing. but also more obviously with the synth playing the melody which, at times almost drowns out the rest of the song entirely. the version from Magical Astronomy is the one i prefer most of the time, and i think it's because its new parts emphasize yet another aspect of the song: it's almost like she's showing off at times. showing off not only what she can do but also what she already did: creating the world of gensokyo, creating a paradise for youkai, for everything and everyone who has been forgotten. they say someone truly dies only once they're forgotten so, what if we were to prevent that? what if we made a world where beings and concepts can be remembered and thus, live on forever? maybe that's what a necrofantasia is.

Yorimashi Between Dreams and Reality ~ Necro-fantasia deserves a mention too, it's probably the less talked about of yukari's themes. technically an arrangement of Necrofantasia, but i think it's just a perfect blend of that and Evening Star. you have the mystery, the tension, the overwhelming show of power. and yet in contrast to the original, when the chorus hits it's under a more sinister light. i think by this point we already well know how yukari acts and what she's about, so she has nothing to hide now, there's no reason to conceal anything. or is there? something that stands out to me is how desperate it sounds too, like now it's yukari who's losing the fight.... but then it ends on a, somewhat distorted major chord, a picardy third. it's like she's trying to make you think she's at a disadvantage, only to come out on top at the end... which is, exactly what happens in AoCF as a matter of fact. and what has happened in other occasions as well.

anyways that was a long post. i talked about yukari's themes in the past but never elaborated on it so, here ya go! here's all i can think of for now.

[lapis-lights]

Chapter 02 | You Could Kill Me And You Should

'Falling From Grace' Series

[Vendetta!Leon Kennedy x Reader]

Song Title: This Is Love by Air Traffic Controller

Content Warnings: Leon is a Bad Driver (most important warning), Mostly tension building, They're getting better until they're not, Some nightmares

Word Count: 12k

Author's Notes: Second chapter of the Falling From Grace series! What did you guys think yesterday? I hope it was good enough in your guys' opinion! Anyways enjoy I hope you enjoy part two :D

Posts are scheduled for 8 a.m. EST every day until the series is complete!

Series Masterlist

Ao3

Summary: As you and Leon start working as allies, the more you start having second thoughts about him. Surely it couldn't mean anything...right? Conflicting emotions and a surprise visit shatter your whole view of him and you can't help but wish Leon would reveal his true intentions already.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

"You're no good, you're no good. You could kill me and you should. I'm an idiot for thinking this was anything but blood..."

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

You're really considering your life choices.

Currently, you hold on for dear life in the fancy little sedan Leon owns as he races down the street, pushing fifty-five on a road where the speed limit was set to forty. It's only been a couple minutes since you left the motel and you wonder in amazement how this man manages to get anywhere with his horrendous driving skills. A stop sign comes up on the horizon, and he at least has the decency to slow down. You think it'll be smooth sailing but he slams his foot on the brake right before the sign and the entire damn vehicle jolts beneath you as your head almost crashes into the headrest. 

Maybe this was how he was trying to kill you. You never thought Leon would be interested in vehicular manslaughter.

Before he can even think about pressing on the gas, you unbuckle your seatbelt and earn a confused look from him. 

"Get out," you command, opening your door. "You're playing passenger princess now."

You feel much safer as you adjust the seat and mirrors and Leon lands into the space you had just occupied. As revenge for your abrupt change in seating, he cranks the religious Christian rock station on the radio and subjects you to guitars lamenting about Jesus as singers mourn the death of their savior. 

Truly, right now you wish Jesus would take the wheel.

"How did you even pass your driver's test?" You mumble, checking the street both ways (which you're sure Leon wouldn't have done if he still had the unfortunate privilege of driving) before tapping the gas and climbing up to a very safe forty-two.

"They said that while my driving was unpleasant, it technically wasn't unsafe or hazardous," he shrugs. "I got it on my third try."

"They lied to you, then," you frown. "Probably gave you pretty boy pity points or something."

“Pretty?”

When you glance at him, his eyebrows are raised suggestively and you scowl. “You’re so right, my apologies. Mediocre boy pity points.”

“Hey.”

When you get onto the main interstate and turn on cruise control, you finally let yourself relax, seeing that practically no other vehicles were out at this hour of the morning and gaining some sort of comfort that nobody was tracking you. For now, at least, you're safe.

The city Leon found that was near the laboratory you were planning on infiltrating was fairly large and he'd rented out a suite at the top of one of the prestigious hotels with government money that he spent without a glance. You'd simply stared at him when he revealed this information to you and he'd only smiled and told you to pack your things. 

Ridiculous. He was going to drive you crazy. 

The song on the radio switches and you're surprised that you know it. Leon seems equally surprised when he hears you humming the melody of the chorus under your breath. 

"You know these songs?" He asks.

You turn your left blinker on and check the rearview despite the lack of any other car. "Just this one so far. My family was heavy on this kind of music when I was a kid so it's mostly backed by nostalgia."

"Huh. Mine were too."

That surprises you. It's weird knowing you have something in common with him, especially with a childhood core memory like this one. He also didn't strike you as the type to have grown up on cheesy Christian rock, but the more you know. Maybe if you knew him earlier on, it would make more sense. After all, you'd only gotten to know him a little after the incident with Wilson and his business with working with viruses right under the president's nose. 

Of the course, the J.I.E. had wanted you to check it out before you firmly reminded them they were asking you to infiltrate the white house. 

After a few minutes of nothing but roads and listening to music, you hear light snores to your right. One glance is all it takes to know that Leon’s been lost to the gentle rock of the car and being lulled to sleep. The sight makes you soften a little as you return your eyes to the road and snake a hand to the knob that controlled the radio station. You twist until you find something you like, settling back into the seat as you keep on, singing the lyrics to some choruses you know mindlessly as the streetlights fly by in patterns of aged yellow. 

You only have a vague notion of where you are so it really is unfortunate that Leon had allowed himself to fall asleep so quickly, but you don’t really fault him. The guy technically was supposed to be on vacation but with your sudden intrusion, it made it near impossible to get the relaxation that a getaway insinuated. You feel bad, but also consider that he had volunteered to accompany you for this whole plan.

At the most, he could’ve nursed you back to health and let you go, blackmailing you later into telling any information you might gain. You know the government isn’t above doing something petty like that. 

But, here he was, snoring softly away in the seat of a car that’s being driven by one of the greatest threats on his life. Leon must’ve been exhausted if he was able to go unconscious despite all the risks. Not that you would ever dream of trying to engage in a fight while you’re going seventy on the interstate, but more so that you do owe him. You’re not the model of an upstanding citizen, but you try to keep your morals as best as you can in this industry.

You sigh, glancing out the windshield to see the bare trees lined with frost on their trunks flashing by as they bordered the interstate. Snow covers where grass usually sat so the blizzard must've been large having covered this much ground in the span of only a few days. 

Truly alone with your thoughts now, you reflect on everything that has happened. Of course, you’d told Leon what had happened at the J.I.E. when you left, but he never knew how you got wrapped up in all of that kind of stuff. For all he knew, you just showed up one day and found a new threat to his missions. 

As a high schooler, you’d always dreamed of doing something big. Despite being talked down by your partner at the time, you’d been determined to help those in need and care for the ones who’d been lost and needed guidance. ‘Justice for Inhumane Experimentalists’ was the title of those hopes and dreams so landing an internship there felt like you were one step closer to everything you wanted.

They promised you more. They promised you’d be helping masses of people. 

You’ve killed more than you can count on your two hands and have gotten a whole bunch of scars that you can’t even bear to think about now. That youthful hope has been sucked out of your soul, but your parents still think you’re in some city with a regular nine-to-five living your best life. You haven’t seen them in years, but frankly don’t care to try now.

You don’t care to open that can of worms.

You notice a green road sign that lets you know that the city is only a couple miles off of an exit, and you recognize the name of it uttered by Leon in passing when you asked him where you’d be heading. As you vear off the main interstate and merge onto the exit road, you hear a grumble and an odd noise of recognition. 

There’s a pause before Leon speaks, voice heavy with sleep and tiredness still lingering in his tone. “You’re thinking really hard over there.”

Confused, you slow down at a stoplight and actually turn to get a good look at him. “What do you mean?”

“Well, for one, you’re holding onto that steering wheel like you’re trying to choke someone to death–” you loosen your grip and your knuckles flood with color, “–and you’ve got that wrinkle in your forehead that you get when you’re really focused on something.”

“How do you know that?”

“I’ve almost killed you enough times to know when you’re trying to think of something to get you out of tight spots,” he reveals as the light turns green and you tear your gaze away from him to carefully turn left across the intersection. “You’re easy to read.”

“To you, maybe.”

“Are you saying you can’t say the same about me?”

He’s got you there. “Touché.”

“Thought so,” he leans back smugly.

Maybe you should have crashed the car while he was sleeping. You’d have to mourn the missed opportunity later. 

Lights appear on the horizon, and you feel better upon seeing the large silhouette of the city rising over the landscape. A green sign lets you know that you've breached the border as Leon begins directing you down the unfamiliar streets to one of the bigger storied buildings. You park easily into a free space and volunteer to start unpacking the bags so he can go check into the room. 

The ground is lined with ice and snow from the recent blizzard that had carried over this way too. Today, you and Leon would be setting yourself up for recon work on the J.I.E. but more importantly, buying you some much-needed clothes and necessities. Now that you were close enough to actual stores, you could pick up some things you've needed since you showed up at the motel. 

When Leon reemerges, he has a key card in hand. 

The two of you don't say anything, but each takes a suitcase to at least make it look like you brought something. The light hits your eyes as you enter through the sliding doors and wave politely to the hostess who's sitting alone at the front desk. 

"I hope we'll provide you with a nice place for your honeymoon," she calls out and your stomach drops. "If you need anything, just let me know!"

"Oh! Thank you so much," you enthuse with an exaggerated smile. It drops as soon as you round the corner to get on the elevator and you whirl around to Leon who's acting like he did nothing. "Really, Kennedy? A honeymoon?"

"It made the most sense since I booked the suite," he shrugs placidly, reaching around you to press the button to call the lift. "So try to behave and be a good little wife, yeah?"

That old flame of hatred reignites in your chest and you remember just exactly why you and Leon had such an intense rivalry. You frown when he tilts his head up to watch the numbers tick down on the small screen above the door frame, and before he can get the chance to even think, you elbow him sharply in the gut earning a pained wheeze and a satisfactory double over. 

The elevator doors open, and you walk forward with a grin, the suitcase rolling behind you. "Come on, husband. We've got a room waiting for us." 

The glare he gives you is probably one of the nastiest you've ever seen.

"So much for a peace treaty," he mutters under his breath and you roll your eyes as he gets on.

Really, you shouldn’t have let your guard down after all the vulnerable moments you’ve shared with him and you’re reminded that this partnership is merely temporary on both ends. Once Leon gets what he wants and your little vendetta has been quelled, you’d part ways and end your feud by never having to see one another again. 

Thank god for that.

The room is decorated modernly, with crisp white sheets and polished wooden floors that seem to be upheld in the most pristine condition one could afford. In all honesty, getting to spend the night in something like this after having to live in the motel for a couple of days was a blessing. If you weren’t still pissed at Leon’s surprise cover story, you might have thanked him.

He really couldn’t come up with some better excuse, huh? Maybe you should handle all the talking during this mission proceeding forward.

You let the suitcase in your hand come to a stop as you take in the view. On the far wall, large velvet curtains cover the entire space and curiously, you peak through them. You find that the entire wall is just one big window and t view is breathtaking, showcasing a city waking up as the sun just barely begins to rise up from over the horizon. The sparse amount of sunlight stays easy on the eyes and you sigh quietly as you simply resign to watch. 

“I hope a skyline isn’t enough to wow you,” Leon’s voice breaks you from your quiet stupor and you crane your head around to look at him unimpressed.

Did he ever know when to keep his mouth shut? 

“I’m sure liking a skyline is a better sight than all the pornstars you probably blow all that money off on,” you bite back, moving away from the window and wrapping your arms around yourself. 

“Are you still hung up on the cover story?”

“Yes.”

“You’re immature.”

“And you’re insane.”

Leon groans and you choose to ignore his theatrics in favor of looking at the brochures provided by the hotel on what to do. There was a large shopping district near here that caught your eye. The title of it shared the last name of one of the officials in the J.I.E., and having it be located so near to one of the hidden labs must be no coincidence. 

You’re about to bring this point up to Leon when you notice he’s standing a lot closer than you were expecting. You hadn’t even heard him moving and your heart leaps up into your throat, effectively killing any words you were about to say. 

“Look, if this is gonna work out, we need to get along as best we can,” he begins and you already feel like he’s chastising you like a kid who got caught with their hand down a cookie jar. “I’ll consult you on any more cover-ups we might have to pull off in the future, but we need to cooperate if we’re gonna make it out of this alive.”

You know he has a point, but you won’t let yourself be told off as if he wasn’t being a fucking instigator. “You wanted to come on this road trip, Kennedy. Remember that.”

You brush past him roughly and decide to slam into the bathroom, breathing out and leaning against the door when you get inside. The mirror is bordered by a bright white light that reflects in your eyes when you look into it. As per usual, you’ve seen better days, and you think bitterly about how much your appearance has deteriorated since your primetime, so to speak.

People your age should be having kids and going out drinking every weekend to take off the end of dealing with coworkers and customers–not fighting a constant war against unnatural bioogical weapons. 

Unless you hopped on a dating app or something stupid after this whole thing is said and done, there was no hope for you. 

You pretend like you’ve gone to the bathroom, flushing the empty toilet bowl and washing your hands to get rid of the persistent feeling of dirt on your palms. When you walk out, Leon’s got the curtains drawn and was standing right in front of the window. He turns upon you exiting, awkwardly motioning to the view. 

“You should come see the sunrise,” he says, hands rubbing the back of his neck like he’s a boy asking out the baker’s daughter. “It’s pretty. You’ll like it.”

Cautiously, you join him and look out. Leon’s right–it’s pretty.

The sun doesn’t intrude on your eyes but only slowly rises as a ball in a shade of fiery orange, lighting up the skyline until you can make out the finer details on buildings that reach the height of the hotel. It illuminates the entirety of the suite in a golden glow, and you look up at Leon to ask him why he’d done this but the question catches on your tongue.

He looks beautiful in this setting, some dark and repressed part of your mind croons. His features are framed just right and the shadows pronounce and contrast all the parts of him that you neglect to notice just for the sake of having known him for so long. The only other time you’ve reluctantly admired him was the last night you’d spent together in the motel under the cover of darkness in the middle of nowhere.

You decide that despite your history together, this is how you want to remember him.

“You’re right,” you murmur, catching his attention and those blue eyes find yours. He’s almost as breathtaking as the skyline is. “It’s really pretty, and I do like it.”

He’s so close, you can almost feel his body heat if you focus hard enough, and that deranged part of your mind grows and grows until you finally have the clarity to shut it down. You shake your head mentally, breaking your eye contact to actually look at what he’d meant for you to.

What the hell just happened?

Had you really just indulged that impulsive little voice in your mind again? You could admit that Leon was attractive objectively, but you’re not just any woman who would fall for his charms and smooth-talking tongue. You know him too well for that. 

Some feeling curls in your chest, crossed between disgust, glee, hate, and excitement. Whatever it is or what it means, you don’t like it. 

For now, you allow yourself to stay in this quiet moment–one of the rare things you hardly ever get–and admire the sun. 

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

Bustling cities had never really been your style, but you've been forced to deal with them one too many times.

For some reason, you hadn't expected the sleepy city you watched wake up would turn into such a tornado of chaos once the sun had climbed up into the sky enough. For this reason, it was important you and Leon stayed close together so that you wouldn't lose each other in the storm. 

If only you had a phone for emergencies, but that was too easy of a way for the J.I.E. to track you down simply. It was safer to be off the grid entirely. 

The effects of winter were still in play unfortunately so the snow hadn't left the streets just yet. Icicles persistently formed wherever they could and the wind still swept with an icy chill that made you shiver under the clothes you decided to wear for the day. 

It was nearing lunchtime and Leon was adamant about finding someplace to sit down to eat after walking aimlessly around town trying to find the location in the brochure you'd found, though you both agreed on going when it would be less busy. The fatigue would have worn you down if he didn't force you into a sweet little café that just happened to be along the sidewalk you'd been strolling on.

“I could’ve kept going,” you defend, and Leon levels an unconvinced look at you. 

“We needed a break anyways,” he refutes, motioning to a menu written in chalk above the counter where a glass display case sits. “Go find something, and don’t worry about the price.”

You want to taunt him for having to buy his enemy something as if you really were on a date, but the overwhelming hunger that hits you is enough to make your mind wipe clean. As Leon begins ordering his things, you peek into the display case where all the little cakes and pastries are displayed while listening to him talk with the cashier.

“How do you like working here?” he was saying.

“Oh, it’s good work,” the cashier answers. He’s got dark hair with shocks of silver lining it and a full mustache. His eyes seem honest enough. “I’ve been the store owner of this old place for my whole life, really.”

“Store owner?”

“Got it from my dad,” the guy says before glancing your way–though you pretend like you aren’t watching him through your peripheral–and teases, "Your girlfriend?"

"Oh, no," Leon deflects easily, shaking his head. "She's not my girlfriend."

Upon hearing that, something must have possessed you at the moment for some inexplicable reason. In a split-second decision, you straighten up and give a sugary bright smile to the store owner.

"I'm his wife."

You can feel Leon’s stare burning holes in your head.

“Oh!” the store owner seems mildly surprised. “I should have known–we get married couples younger than you two all the time.”

You resist looking at Leon in favor of ordering what you’d decided on during their shared conversation. He has enough consciousness to slide a card into the reader when it was time to pay, but you know he’s just bursting at the seams to ask what the fuck you were pulling.

To be honest, you didn’t even know yourself. 

“What are you doing?” he hisses quietly once you slide into a booth in the corner. “I thought we were discussing any cover stories we were doing.”

“You came up with that.”

“You weren’t on board with it.”

“It just took me by surprise this morning.”

Leon sighs, massaging the bring of his nose like this whole thing was giving him a headache. To be fair, it probably was, but you weren’t too keen on trying to push it. After all, you were the reason he was on this wild goose chase during his vacation time even if he was the one who practically forced you to take him along.

“Playing house isn’t going to kill us,” you assure, glancing at the other customers minding their business. “We can be the absolute picture of a newlywed couple until this is all finished.”

Leon peeks up at you with uncertainty. “You’re sure about this?” 

“I’m sure.”

“Right,” Leon breathes out, folding his hands and leaning forward on his forearms, fixing you a look that says he's settled on a decision about something. “Just for now.”

The store owner comes by, placing your drinks in front of you and a few paper bags with what you’d ordered. He sends a not-so-subtle wink at you, saying, “It was nice meeting you guys. You keep him in line, alright?”

You giggle and poise yourself in a way that makes you nothing but innocent. “I always do, don’t I?”

“To some degree,” Leon mumbles under his breath, taking a sip of the coffee he’d chosen. 

Your thoughts clear when you get proper food in your stomach and you finally gain enough sense to properly take in the café you'd found yourself in. It's definitely small, with only a few tables being occupied including you and Leon, but the service seemed nice enough. There's no time to let your guard down, though, so you shift in your seat and clear your throat, getting Leon's attention.

“So Williams’s place is just a couple blocks away,” you begin. “He’s the operator of exports and imports of the J.I.E. so he was absolutely vital within their operations.”

Leon busies himself with taking a bite out of the banana bread he'd gotten. Did he even really like it? “Did you have to encounter him often?”

The question leaves a bad feeling rolling in your chest so you choose to avoid making any more trouble than what was necessary.

“Not much,” you say. “He’s good with his words, though. You’ll want to be careful if we do happen to see him since he knows both of our faces.”

“He’d attack us in broad daylight?” Leon’s brows furrow.

“No,” you shake your head, sipping on your own drink as you try to form a way to explain it to him. “Agents in the J.I.E. are trained especially in stealth so if I were to hazard a guess, he’d have someone stalk us and then send an assassin to put us out of the big picture."

"Is that what they did with you?"

You tilt your head, trying to think since it's been a good while since you were on a rookie's level. "I was taught a little more than just typical stealth. I was only dispatched to your location once they knew I could get myself out of a tight situation effectively."

Leon hums, leaning back in his seat and giving you another look that you can't discern. "I see."

The question rolls off your tongue before you have the sense to stop it. "Why do you keep looking at me like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you're trying to find something, but you can't." He's never done that before when you'd been fighting. It's frustrating, knowing that even though you've picked out his mannerisms on a microscopic level, you couldn't catch it all.

Leon blinks before leaning back forward and saying lowly, "Maybe I am looking for something, but you're not letting me find it."

What?

"What's that supposed to mean?" You huff, folding your arms across your chest. Instinctively, your thumb rubs circles on your upper arm. "C'mon, Leon. When are you going to stop being so cryptic and just give me a straight answer?"

"I could do that," he muses, crumbling up his now empty paper bag, "but, it's more fun not to. You're a smart girl–you can figure it out."

 "Flattery won't get you anywhere with me, Kennedy."

"I'm not trying to flatter you."

The two of you come at a standstill as you try to decipher whatever puzzle he thought would be funny to put you in and he waits patiently for your answer. This whole rivalry between the two of you was a battle of the minds just as much as it was of strength when actually fighting, but this has to be one of the most confusing things you had to unravel about him. When he wanted to, Leon really could be an enigma. 

He holds his emotions close to his chest–you know that much. 

People have recounted that he's charismatic and charming, though you've seen less of that side and more of the stone-faced agent who doesn't let any of his internal feelings show. You only know this because you'd been trained to do the exact same thing. Thinking about it, the J.I.E. had just been building you up to be someone who could stand up against someone of Leon's caliber, and the realization that you really were just a weapon in their eyes makes your whole mood sour.

"We have to get a move on," you interrupt the tension and put an end to your small staring contest. "We should get this visit over with as fast as possible."

Leon frowns, not used to seeing you give up so easily but shuffles from his seat to follow you out of the booth. The two of you throw away your trash and push back out into the blinding sun that causes you to shield your eyes, looking around and finding a gap in the crowd to start moving in. Leon trails close behind, his hand brushing yours as he fits himself next to you in the sea of bodies. 

Your heartbeat quickens for a moment and you wonder why his touch suddenly burns in a good way. 

You make your way past the multiple stores looking for the familiar sign that you'd seen before while watching your surroundings. Even though the city isn't the largest you've ever been in, it's still pretty big and the buildings stretching up to touch the sky aren't anything to play around with. The air is still cold but with the peak of the sun, it provides a source of heat to combat it. 

When a certain sight catches your attention, you glance back to Leon and point at the building. "There it is."

You break away from the crowd with him hot on your heels as you approach the automatic sliding doors. The rush of warmth from the temperature outside is a blessing, and you adjust yourself to your surroundings. It seems to be just an average clothing department, though you're determined to figure out if it was anything more than that, which was highly likely. 

You and Leon had agreed that you should do your shopping here so that you could knock it out within the day before washing it at the hotel's laundry room unless you get caught. It's a low possibility, but a possibility nonetheless, so you resolve to be extra careful as you stray towards the women's section and start picking out clothes. 

You stay simple with some t-shirts, a couple pairs of pants and shorts, socks, and a pair of shoes. An employee catches you browsing and she makes her way over, looking between you and Leon before her eyebrows raise at the sight of him. 

"Hello," she greets overtly enthusiastically. "Is there anything I can help you with?"

She's talking to him more than she is to you, but it's not something that concerns you really. At the most, she'd ask for his number and he'd give her some burner digits before you left. 

"I think we've got it all handled, thanks," Leon answers, and you can feel him keeping an eye on you as you pretend like you're looking for something you like even though you have enough outfits to last a week. 

"Good!" She says, pausing awkwardly before speaking again. "I'm sorry, you're really good looking. Has anybody ever told you that?" 

"Some, I guess."

"Well–um–can I get your number? If your friend doesn't mind, I mean."

You catch his eye and the discomfort in his expression is evident. You understand why, what with the employee coming incredibly strong onto him for a stranger who just thought someone looked nice. Sparing him some grace, you move closer just enough for him to use you as a scapegoat if he wanted. 

He takes your incredibly subtle hint immediately. 

"This is actually my wife," Leon rushes out, a little too fast if you were critiquing him, but you can't fault him for it. "We're here on vacation."

You give her a little wave, and her eyes latch onto your hand where absolutely no ring lies on your bare ring finger.

"Oh," she says flatly, all of the false bravado she built up wilting immediately though her disappointment is shadowed over quickly by the customer service facade. "Right, sorry. Then you guys should go to the Silver Orchid. It's a fancy restaurant around here that makes for a good date spot so I'd recommend going."

"We'll look into it, thank you.” You smile and she falters. 

"Okay, well, let me know if you guys need any help," she says and walks away, going faster than the usual gait.

Once she's out of ear shot, you hear Leon mumble. "Thank you."

"Of course." The earnesty in your own words surprises you. "Should we start investigating?"

"You don't want anything fancy?" He asks, motioning vaguely in the direction of the portion of the women's section that held dresses, skirts, and flowy tops. There was really no reason to dive into it. 

"I don't really need that kind of stuff," you frown, confused as to why he was asking. 

Leon, for the first ever time in all the years you've known him, is flustered. "Well it looks like I'm treating you to dinner tonight, so…"

You stare at him in wonder, mouth dropped open in slight amazement at the tension lying in his shoulders and the way his skin reddens with embarrassment. Never before have you seen him like this and if you didn't know any better, you might've thought he really was asking you out on a date. He wouldn't ask you of all people, though, so why he'd ever want to go out pretending to be your husband more than he needed to baffles you.

Perhaps he just wanted to make the most of his actual vacation. That made sense.

Right. That must be it. There was absolutely no other reason for him insisting shyly to go to dinner at a fancy restaurant that couples frequented, and there was definitely no reason that him insinuating this fact made your palms clammy and your stomach flutter like those romance novels always talked about with the butterflies. 

"You're sure about this?" You ask, parroting his question from earlier when he asked if you really were okay with posing as a married woman. "We can just hit a pizza place on the way back or order something at the hotel, you know."

He doesn't meet your eyes, which is uncharacteristic of him. 'I'm sure."

Softening, you feel vulnerable in a way you haven't felt ever since he stitched up your back–maybe even more so now. "Alright. You'll have to spend a couple extra so I can doll myself up properly."

"You know money's not an issue."

"I know, but I just wanted you to know."

What was happening? What happened to hating him to the point of being ready to shoot him as soon as your finger got to lay on a trigger? What happened to heated words and fighting viscously and being ready to cut each other's throats open whenever there was a chance for it? Sure, you had agreed on civility, but you're pretty sure a peace treaty didn't involve going out on faux dates and feeling things you shouldn't. 

When did this all change? When did this all shift?

Has saving your life really been the turning point in this situationship?

You ponder over these questions as you go through the dresses in your size. There were multiple in a myriad of colors in a variety of shades that you couldn't even name, and they were all cut in different shapes and unique designs. However, you really couldn't think straight enough from being torn between picking something nice and wondering about the things you were feeling when Leon unknowingly left you in torturous suspense. 

"You'd look good in this one."

His voice pulls you from your wandering and you look up to see him tugging on a navy blue number that wasn't too flashy and wouldn't show off much of your back. It could easily be remedied with a cardigan, and he had a point that it was a very pretty dress.

"You think so?" You ask, shuffling through the hangers until you find it in your size. It's nothing you've never worn before and a slit is revealed in the side that would trail up to your thigh. You've worn more revealing things before, but this is the first time you’ve done it for something that isn’t necessary to the mission.

"Yeah," he agrees. "You should go try it on, and maybe try and see if there's anything in the dressing rooms that piques your interest."

Oh, that smartass.

"You're right," you murmur. "They might be hiding something in there, huh?" 

"Couldn't hurt to check."

You pick up a black cardigan that would fit with the whole outfit along the way before finding the dressing rooms, picking one at random, and getting into one of the small cubicles. You're alone with nothing but the soft glow of the lights that surround the full-length mirrors that show off every angle of the body needed.

First and foremost, you touch around the walls for any possible hidden panels, but you come up empty handed. As far as you know, activation mechanics could be hidden anywhere but perhaps that's not what they used here. You check the hooks which turn out to be just an average rack screwed into the wall, and find your last resort in the mirror panels. 

You tug on the bottom of the central main panel and it gives away to your surprise.

There's a steel door hidden behind it with a thick gry block affixed next to the handle. The metal is warm and faintly, you can feel the hum of some sort of electricity going on behind it. Whatever they were hiding here, it sounded complicated and big, and there's no telling what was behind it. You make a mental note about it as you close the panel back and make sure it was firmly reattached. 

You nearly walk out of the room before realizing that the dress you’d picked up was still hanging innocently on the hook.

A frown makes its way onto your face with uncertainty, insecurity rolling in your chest before deciding to give in. It’s been a while since you went out for a nice dinner since you preferred not to get pity looks ordering a table for one and dates were practically nonexistent. You’ll play along for now. It wouldn’t hurt, right?

Turns out, it hugs your figure just right and you wonder silently how for all Leon’s worth, he’s managed to pick out something that you agreed looks at least decent. The addition of the cardigan adds to the flair, making you something dark and mysterious, and your imagination provides a candid shot of you and Leon side by side clad in navy blue hanging on each other’s arms.

He’d look good in a suit.

You hurry to change back into your previous attire, cheeks flushing as if someone had caught you fantasizing about something you shouldn’t be. Making a mental note to pick up a pair of fancy shoes next, you make your way out of the dressing room with the dress slung in the crook of your elbow and find Leon absentmindedly browsing belts.

“You’ve fortunately got an eye for women’s fashion,” you say, and he perks up upon hearing your voice.

“Yeah?”

“Mhm. Have you got anything fancy enough for a date night, Mr. Kennedy?” 

He seems to process the teasing lilt to your voice, blue eyes conflicted before he turns away, not looking at you as he replies, “You underestimate me, Mrs. Kennedy. Of course I’ve got something.”

Your mouth drops open, staring after him as he begins striding away, clearly intending for you to follow. Disbelief covers your expression as you trail behind him, still trying to understand what he was trying to do other than lightening the mood. Surely he wasn’t as forward as this when he really was trying to flirt with someone?

Then again, playing pretend for a mission could hardly count as flirting.

“We’ll hit shoes and make-up then go, Sound good?” Leon suggests, stopping when you don’t answer him. 

He looks down at you as you shake your head slightly, clearing your overanalyzing moment and blink. “What?”

He doesn’t explain anything for a second, only giving you that soul-searching gaze again, before smiling gently as if he found a hint of what he’s been looking for. “Nothing you should worry about. C’mon, the sun will be setting by the time we get back to the hotel if we keep going at this snail’s pace.”

You nod, following behind him, eager to get out of this place so you could safely tell him what you’d found in the dressing room out of earshot of any potential enemies. Well…you also might be entertaining the idea of getting to know him better over some good food.

And outside, the persistent ice finally begins to melt.

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

It's been a long while since you had dealt with makeup, fancy outfits, and elegant things. 

For a good while, you had nothing that was ever soft or fragile, but rather your training had hardened you and roughened your personality around the edges so much that they had sharpened into something dangerous. You were an agent, meant to live a secret life in the shadows gaining information for your bosses, and survival was the key term to your success. Fragility wasn't an option, and your looks didn't matter when bruised and bloody out on the field.

However…this hasn't ever hurt anyone.

When you and Leon had returned to the hotel suite with arms full of shopping bags and aching feet, you took hold of the bathroom to resign yourself to doing your preparation of your look in there. A hot shower was the perfect distraction from the heart beating strongly in your chest in anticipation of what may happen tonight, and your fluttering nerves weren't any help either. 

A shame to say that the makeup brushes felt foreign in your grasp and it takes a moment to remember what everything did and what they were used for. 

It comes to you eventually, and you fall into a vaguely nostalgic and familiar routine as you pick through all your products carefully and choose what you'll use. Going for a natural look with accents to pop, you steady your shaking hands and lose yourself in the delicate motions of dolling yourself up. It doesn't look bad at all for someone who hasn't touched this stuff in years.

The dress comes next, and when you slip it on, you feel like a whole new person. Even just standing barefoot in the bathroom only halfway done with your whole set, it already feels like you could forget about the life you're leading. Maybe for tonight, you and Leon could be normal for once without any bioweapons or governmental duties or even feuds. For tonight, you could be whatever you wanted.

With this new mindset, you heat up a flatiron and wait patiently to spruce up your hair. There was no need for any intense changes, but just a touch up went a mile and once you'd gotten it to where it flowed with the look, you hair sprayed it and let it sit. All that was left was the shoes and once you had those on, you'd be ready. Some small part of your thoughts wonder what Leon would think of your whole get up. 

When you step out, the cool air hits you, but it's not wholly uncomfortable. 

Leon turns around when he hears you exit, and he's in a simple navy button-up paired with slacks that probably cost more than your salary. Your face reddens when he doesn't hide the way his eyes rack up and down your form, taking in this new version of you like sweetened honey on his tongue.

"You look good," he murmurs, almost as if in a daze. "Really good."

His words make that simmering fire in your gut rise like a title wave and every sense gets cranked to a hundred. Sparks travel along your skin as you manage to keep your composure and not melt.

"You don't clean up too bad yourself, Kennedy," you reply, despite your head swimming with shameful thoughts of how damn good he looks when he's not in sweats. It's unfair dealing you these cards when you're supposed to hate him. 

You pass by to grab shoes and go to check yourself in the mirror, bending down to adjust the straps before standing straight and looking at your reflection. You really did look like a whole different person. A faint feeling of pride pulses in your chest and you turn to ask Leon if it was really okay, but the change in your position makes your small rare smile fade.

Without the cardigan, the scars are on full display for anybody to see and pick through. The rosy filter falls away and you're left with the brutal reality of what you really are–that this is all temporary no matter how much you avoided returning to the truth. 

Your eyes can't seem to tear away from the view of your back, pulling all of your attention away from Leon, and you don't even notice when his reflection joins by your side in the mirror. 

"Hey," he murmurs, earning a faint flick of your eyes toward him in recognition. "None of that, okay?"

"But-"

"But nothing," he says firmly, and the words of protest die on your tongue. "C'mon. You look great."

"What's the catch?" You ask sullenly, snatching up your cardigan and throwing it over your shoulders–anything to get those reminders of shame away from your vision. "You'd never compliment me without wanting something in return."

Leon shakes his head. "Nothing. I can't compliment my not-wife whenever I want?"

That pulls a huff of a laugh from you as you roll your eyes, but you know he can probably read the reluctant amusement pulling at your painted lips. Since when did he know how to lighten up your mood so easily?

"You can compliment me when we're in public and have to convince people we're actually married," you decide, moving past him towards the door. "And yet I don't even have a ring on my finger. What a shame."

"I didn't think you were interested in material goods," he comments, opening the door.

You walk out into the hallway, waiting for him to close the door and make sure it was locked. "They say diamonds are a girl's best friend."

"I thought your best friend was that magnum you almost took my eye out with."

"...You got me there."

You don't trust Leon to get there safely without crashing the car into a pedestrian so you convince him to fork over the keys once you reach the vehicle. He only pouts minimally, but eventually gets over himself after you tease him for being the optimal passenger princess. He has a map built into the screen on his dashboard so you look up the name on the search bar and find the address. 

You put the vehicle in reverse and back out, pulling out of the parking space and navigating out into the city roads. 

Honestly, the sunset looks just as pretty as the rise was in the morning, but this blaze lasted just a tad longer. It's so bright that you have to lower the sun visor just so that it isn't intruding into your eyes. 

"I'm curious," Leon begins from your side and a spark of interest rolls in your chest. You've been doing that a lot lately, being constantly attuned to whatever he was doing at the moment and whatever he says. It's ridiculous. "How come you've never been here if it's so close to the location you left?"

You frown. "You're curious a lot."

"Sure."

"Well," you breathe in, taking the chance to switch lanes and find some small comfort in the rhythmic beat of the turn signal, "I was pretty wrapped up in work to travel too far from the lab they had me at, and vacation days were rarely given out but it was more than enough to pay the bills. My apartment was in a different direction from here in a sleepy town that was off the map."

"That sounds nice," Leon murmurs and you have to huff out a laugh at that. 

"It was when I got to go. Landlords were a bit disgruntled since I was almost never home, but they got the payment from me and that's what mattered." You think about it, missing your old place already and how you'd tried to make it your own. It's not much, but it was nice enough in case anybody came over. 

Nobody ever did.

"Is that something you see yourself having in the future?" Leon asks.

"What?"

"Like a home that's away from all this crap. You know, something…quiet. Peaceful."

"I'd like to think so," you shrug and toss him a sad sort of smile. "But, I never got to experience it for real so I wouldn't know."

He doesn't say anything after that and you continue down the road in a settled sort of silence. The place isn't packed that much when you arrive, and you make a mental note to pay Leon back for everything he's done so far. At the least, this was some plot to get you in his debt to cash in a favor later, but at the most, it was light charity work.

You park into a vacant spot and turn the car off, lifting the visor up and opening the door. 

It's hit golden hour and it's evident when you spot Leon on the other side getting out. The small breeze sweeps his locks slightly and the glow of the sun casts him in an entirely new light. It was almost like this morning in your quiet moment at the window but magnetized and bumped to a hundred. In this setting, you think that some women would have killed to be in your spot, even if this wasn't a real date. You imagine he must have a lot of suitors at home. 

It makes you wonder if he had someone waiting for him and was just playing this whole thing out for fun. Maybe you were just his weekly entertainment for now.

You shake off that uneasy feeling and tear your eyes away, walking to the back of the car. He doesn't immediately follow, and a glance back lets you know he's staring after you as if he'd found something in you again that he'd been searching for. He still refuses to elaborate on that point, but it doesn't seem like anything to be worried about so perhaps Leon was just a naturally weird person. 

"You coming?" You call back to shake him from his stupor and he ducks his head, embarrassed. You'd almost call it cute. 

Almost. But you don't.

The Silver Orchid appears to be an incredibly expensive dining space, with a patio strung with strings of lights and set out with tables that were currently occupied by a few people. It's an incredibly modern black and white design complete with silver accents. When you walk up to the door, Leon pulls it open and holds it for you, and you can't stop the smile that crops up at the action. 

A chandelier hangs in the entrance, and the pathways behind the host stand splits into two ways. The gentle chatter of people could be heard in the background as the sound of a soft orchestra rang out from the speakers overhead without being overbearing. Even just from here, you can see the extravagance of the building and you almost feel out of place. You almost forget you're just standing in the middle of the doorway until Leon taps your arm to remind you where you are. 

The hostess greets you with a genuine smile–or at least much more convincing than the girl in the clothing store–and asks how many she'd be seating. 

"Just two," you answer, folding your hands politely. 

"Great!" She gathers up two menus and rolls of silverware before asking, "Would you like to be seated inside or outside?"

You look at Leon who shrugs helplessly.

Forming the perfect picture of a couple, you giggle and turn back to the hostess who waits patiently for an answer. "We'll take it outside."

"Perfect," she grins and waves you to follow her. "Let's go get you seated."

Outside reveals a wooden patio with floorboards that are more stable than the ones at the motel, and an aesthetically pleasing set up. Only a few people are out here, and as forewarned, most of them are couples. The hostess seats you at a table in the corner that gives off a view that isn't just parking lot and road, and assure you your waiter will be by shortly. 

Before you get a chance to move, Leon pulls out your chair and allows you to sit and adjust before placing himself on the opposite side of the table.

You raise an eyebrow, slyly asking, "You really know how to show a girl a good time, huh?"

"Only ones who can treat me right." Leon slides over a menu, winking in a way that would have had you on your knees.

He's given you the same answer you had said way back in the motel when tensions were high and you'd agreed not to kill each other. You're surprised he remembers such an insignificant moment, but then again, he was Leon Kennedy–the agent who always had to be on alert twenty-four seven and wasn't allowed to let any details slip. 

"Smooth," you allow, picking up the menu and glancing over it. "Jesus Christ."

The prices were insanely high for meals that were portioned incredibly well–you'd definitely be taking something to go seeing how much the pictures depicted the dishes. The numbers were making you anxious for no reason, though you felt bad that Leon would have to be paying for both you and him. 

His foot nudges yours under the table. "I hope you're not thinking about what I think you're thinking of."

"I can't help it," you mumble. "You're taking most of my paychecks when we get out of this whole mess."

"Haven't I already told you money is an issue?" He asks, though it's not unkind and more bordering on a playful scold rather than him being actually irritated. You've seen him angry and this definitely wasn't it. "I'm under direct orders from the president. One of my paychecks could probably pay your rent and utility bills five times." 

"Show off."

"I'm just saying," he holds up his hands as if surrendering. "Get whatever you want. When's the last time you ever did something like this?"

He has a point, unfortunately. 

"I'll pay you back somehow," you insist, though in what ways, you don't know. 

A waiter comes by, eyes light and smiling cheerfully. A notepad is in his hand and a sunny disposition to greet you with, he clears his throat like he was ready to recite some memorized speech. 

"Hi, welcome to the Silver Orchid, folks. Can I get you something to drink to start off?" 

Leon lets you order first, then chooses a beer that you purposely wrinkle your nose at. Before giving the go-ahead, he also orders a bottle of champagne and raises an eyebrow when the waiter disappears and asks, "Not a big drinker?"

"Not beer," you answer truthfully. "Tastes like fermented motor oil–but I didn't peg you to be the type to like it."

"Nah," he shakes his head. "Beggars can't be choosers, though. Hope you like champagne."

"It's been a minute. You're not trying to get me drunk and get me to spill all my secrets, right?"

He tilts his head, trying to get inside of your brain to see the way it works and what your line of thinking might be. "Whatever secrets you might have can stay yours. Maybe this is some big ploy of mine to finally get your number after all this time."

Your mouth drops open, and that smug little smirk causes that war of conflicting emotions to start warring in your chest. Leon leans forward on his forearms as his foot knocks into yours again, and it's something that strikes you as peculiar though you can't exactly place why. He's got enough spatial awareness to know where you were and definitely has enough reason to need to know what you were doing, but his advances were confusing you. 

He wasn't really trying to romance you. That much had to be obvious. 

Sure you both could play husband and wife all you want, but at the end of the day, you don't have a ring on your finger and you've given each other more wounds than you could count on both hands. Leon must really be letting loose if he's in a mindset that is willing to come onto you of all people. 

'Believe me, you're the last person in the world I'd ever try to flirt with.' he had said. 

You suppose even a broken clock is right twice a day. 

"You're ridiculous, Kennedy," you roll your eyes and lean back in your seat, kicking him lightly back. "I don't even have a phone number to give you so you're out of luck." 

"Ah," he mockingly sags and frowns. "I'll get 'em next time."

You snort, challenging him with a jut of your chin. "There won't be a 'next time' since you'll be distracted by the next decent-looking woman you see."

His eyes flash dangerously and a shiver rolls up your spine. You try not to show it. "Is that so?"

"I'm sure of it."

Leon doesn't get to answer since the waiter comes back with your drinks in hand and two champagne flutes alone with a dark green bottle. He sets it carefully on the table, setting to work on pouring your first glasses then taking out a notebook to take your order for meals. 

You'd decided on something that wasn't too astronomically high but also just enough so that you were indulging yourself the way Leon had encouraged. Still, you can feel his gaze on you as you order before smoothly doing the same. The waiter smiles, assures you he'll be back, and takes your menu before leaving. You curiously pick up a glass of champagne, watching how the bubbles fly inside of the liquid. 

"I'm surprised they had this brand," Leon mentions passively as he picks up his own flute before holding it out to you expectantly. "To truces?"

You smile and huff out a small laugh. "And to successful missions."

The glass clinks against each other sharply. 

"Amen," he mumbles before bringing the flute to his lips. You find yourself staring at the action longer than you should, watching the way his mouth is shaped around the rim of the glass so minutely perfect. Your thoughts stall, wondering just how many people he's kissed with that mouth. 

Would you be willing to be added to that list?

You almost drop your glass at the sudden thought, avoiding his questioning gaze as he looks back up at you. Your cheeks flush darkly as you busy yourself sipping your own champagne to avoid the obvious tension hanging in the air that asks why you were acting the way you were. Instead, you focus on the crisp bubbles popping over your tongue and hum appreciatively on the fruity taste that didn't stray to overbearing.

Your lipstick leaves an imprint on the glass. 

"That's better than I remember," you say, hoping the color would drain from your face eventually. "It's been too long since I had a good proper drink."

"They really kept you busy, huh?" Leon's mouth turns down into an unsatisfied frown. 

You trace the rim on your glass thoughtfully. "They did. But I got to see a lot of new places since I was shadowing you a lot."

"Yeah? Mind telling me about it?"

You search for any kind of lie in his eyes, the way you might try and see what he was hiding up his sleeve or if he was planning anything but you find no such facade. At this moment, it really feels like everything will be okay. Maybe right now, it's okay to allow him to see the person who'd been trapped under so many layers of disguise and hatred.

Somebody who loved to travel and see sights and only put her roots down when she was dead. Somebody who had no concept of home but had a love for the thrill of adventure. Somebody who couldn't possibly be trapped under contract with a company that held all her free will.

"Alright," you sigh, thinking back. "Where do you want me to start?"

✧ ˚ 　· 　　 .

There's nothing but rain. 

Thunder rolls darkly in the sky as lightning illuminates the near-black clouds and large puddles create mirrors on the muddied ground. All around you is nothing but wet wasteland dead knotted tree roots braiding up from the ground and curling around before diving back beneath the soil. There's no green or splashes of color from wildflowers–there's just ruin and destruction.

A whispering voice invades your mind, murmuring sinisterly. 

"Look at what you've done," it says. "Is this what you wanted?"

Nothing but death and decay–is that what you wanted? Was this the wish you had? You look down and find your hands coated with thick blood that does not wash away even under the sharp assault of raindrops that fall hard enough to nearly pierce through your flesh.

No matter how much you scrub, no matter how much you pray to some false god, there was blood on your hands. A fact you cannot change. 

"Is this your happy ending?" The voice says this time.

You look past your bloodied fingers and find cold lifeless eyes staring up at you. They're the color of the sky, the ocean, of sapphires gleaming in dark and rough places, and you've looked into them enough times to know who they belong to. His body lays in your arms, and blood–his blood–drips down your skin. 

Leon is cold. You should give him a jacket…or something to protect him from the rain.

"Why did you lie?" The whispering has risen into a tidal wave that threatens to tear you apart. "Why did you lie?! Your words meant nothing–nothing!" 

"I'm sorry," you mumble and your eyes sting sharply. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry won't bring him back," you stare at yourself across the wasteland, your expression betrayed and so so angry. "Sorry won't change the fact that you killed him!"

"I didn't mean it."

"I hate you."

"I should've…" Your mind becomes detached as you look down at Leon again, and realize that he's not just cold. He's turning blue, going into rigor mortis right there under the same hands that had killed him. The tears roll from your eyes and suddenly, you can't tell what came from the rain and what came from you. 

"Am I to pay for this?" The other version of you pleads, voice cracking and failing. "Am I to pay for you killing Leon?"

"Who are you?" You mumble brokenly, bringing up one of your filthy hands to caress his face that has long since gone. "What does he mean to you?"

"I'm you," they say, "and you killed the love of your life."

Thunder shakes the whole terrain enough to cause your eyes to fly open as you gasp sharply for air. Your eyes are wet and your cheeks itch with dried tear tracks as you pull yourself up to wipe them off furiously. The dream blossoms in your mind like a memory, a haunting little night flower unfurling its petals for the moonlight. What did that whole thing even mean? 

The dinner last night had resolved beautifully in a way you'd never expect before. The champagne had made you lighter than ever and the food was better than anything you've ever tasted in your life. You'd exchanged stories over the bottle, sharing perspectives of missions you were dispatched on after him and for the first time ever, he felt more like a friend than someone you had fought tooth and nail to try and kill. It was wonderful, something new and fresh and exciting. 

What about that could possibly herald such a horrendous dream?

You look around the room, trying to gather your bearings. Leon had insisted you take the master bed while unloading the pull-out bed the couch had inside of it. You'd been hesitant about him having such a flimsy mattress, he's reminded you that he's slept in worse places. It didn't bring much comfort to you, but you could tell he wasn't budging on the subject. 

Right now, though, he wasn't in bed. 

The covers had been tossed carelessly aside and the pillow had an indent of where his head must have been. You look towards the bathroom but find no light shedding underneath the door. Upon waiting for a few minutes, you don't hear the toilet flush or the sink running so you get up, padding across the soft carpet silently and carefully twisting the knob in case he really was inside and could alert you that it was occupied. 

Unfortunately, no such call came. 

The bathroom was empty, and the little night light inside provided just enough visibility to prove as such. Confusion spreads through your mind as you wonder where he could possibly be. Surely he wouldn't pay for a hotel suite just to leave you on your own? He wouldn't just abandon ship like that and besides, you saw his luggage still in the room when you had gotten up to investigate. 

It's then that you turn around from the bathroom and realize the curtains over the sliding glass door to the balcony are drawn only slightly, making a crack where they should have overlapped. It wasn't enough to arouse suspicion under normal circumstances, but you had made sure they were drawn tight right before you'd gone to bed under the paranoia that anybody could peek in.

You quietly look through and spot Leon's shoulder just around the corner. He's not pressed up against the railing as if he were stargazing, no. His arms look to be folded tightly across his chest, body swaying as if he were talking to someone. 

You reach toward and crack open the door, ears straining as their conversation becomes audible. 

"You don't need to worry about her," he's saying. "You need to let this go."

"Leon," a sultry feminine voice reaches your ears and your heart flips in the cage of your ribs. "You never know. What if she's just waiting to get you close enough to kill you? What would I do without you?" 

"You need to find a new trick," he sounds like he's scowling. "Ada, believe me when I tell you she's nobody. She means nothing to me." 

The sting of unsaid rejection almost knocks the wind out of your breath and effectively kills anything you were planning to say. Leon moves and you get a good look at the woman he's talking to, finding her staring up at him through seductive lashes that would be enough to entrance any man. 

Red flashes on her body and you think that she's enchanting enough to be a perfect match for Leon, darkness in her eyes as she looks defiantly up at him. 

"Come on, Leon," she sighs. "We both know that's not true. It's not safe where she's going–you could die in that lab."

"I know."

"And yet you'll still go?"

"I have to," he grunts stubbornly. "It's a part of my duty as an agent. I expected you of all people would understand that."

"Believe me, I do," she snaps. "I just don't see why you would aid her of all people. I'm trying to help you out here."

"And I don't need it."

The two stare down in a tense silent match until Ada finally relents, backing away and pulling something out of her pocket. She shakes her head in obvious disappointment, and you think you even see a hint of sadness that he won't see her line of reasoning. 

"Until next time," she promises and presses the trigger. 

A grappling hook shoots out from the end of the gun and there's a moment of goodbye where Ada tugs him down to her level, pressing a chaste kiss to Leon's mouth. She backs away, hand lingering on his cheek before flying off the balcony and disappearing into the night. 

You don't know how to feel as Leon stares at where she'd disappeared to. 

Did he really mean it when he'd said you meant nothing to him? Why did you feel like he just tore your heart out and stomped on it until it stopped beating before spitting on it for good measure? You ache, pushing the door back closed and stepping back towards the bed. A war rages in your head, chastising you for being so dumb and mourning that he had said you meant nothing to him, though you don't have enough sense to form a coherent opinion about any of it.

You burrow back under the blankets, pretending like you were still sleeping when Leon eventually comes back in as silently as he can. You can almost feel him looking at you and you wonder if he's debating on letting old habits die hard. Maybe he'll take out a handgun and end it now. You don't have any conviction to stop him. 

There's a pregnant pause before he whispers, "Did I wake you up?"

You don't answer, choosing to remain blissfully silent with a smoothed out browline to paint the perfect picture of slumber. He doesn't say anything else but only chooses to go back to bed as if nothing had happened, and the almost inaudible creak of the springs in the mattress let you know he's settled back in. 

All your hope drains from your body in that moment, unhappy and feeling understandably betrayed. Even if you hadn't made up, you'd assumed you meant something to him in the same way he meant something to you when you'd been fighting. Could it be possible that you were just another side piece in his story? Perhaps Ada was his lover trailing behind him and making sure that nobody was trying to advance on him. Would she be after you now that she knew you were sleeping in the same room and playing husband and wife with him?

You weren't after him anyway. Were you? You couldn't tell after all this time. All the moments you catch yourself staring at him longer than you were supposed to and pondering what it would be like to be able to kiss him in the way she had probably meant something unless it was just the hormones speaking, though you sincerely doubt it. 

You're too tired to make any sense of it.

Images of your dream flash in your mind–to his lifeless eyes and dead body in your arms, feeling a pain worse than any torture you'd been subjected to purely for the fact you knew he wasn't coming back. That you'd been the one to end him only made matters worse, and those lasting words you'd said to yourself still resonate in your head loudly. 

You'd been told you killed the love of your life in that cryptic little dream of yours.

Surely he wasn't that to you. He was nothing more than an impromptu business partner at best for right now, right? But, he was so charming and knew all the ways you ticked like the back of his hand. Is that what made you nothing to him? Were you no longer mysterious and exciting enough for him to keep on going like this? 

Night terrors were nothing new. They'd been a constant ever since your first mission where you'd been forced to toss a hand grenade into a crowd to stay alive, and you remember the limbs flying as the blood spattered across your skin warmly. With each new mission comes a new setting for your fucked up brain to twist every night. Some are easy to get over–easy enough that they don't affect you for the rest of the day. However, some showcase some of the most abysmally crude deaths you've ever had the misfortune of witnessing, replaying it like a radio stuck on a loop. 

This? This was something new. You've never had night terrors about something that never happened. 

You know this by the way Leon's breaths transition from that uneven pattern to something more steady and peaceful until he's letting out light snores that tell you he's completely under. He's alive, quite the opposite of dead, and certainly not a living flesh bag controlled by a virus or a parasite or something insane like that. 

Still, uncertainty reigns in your mind. 

Something bitter touches your tongue and you flinch, feeling that cold and angry feeling buzzing in your bones. Something in your mind that doesn't allow that grudge to die the way you want it to, urging you to end it all now and trying to convince you this thing either ends with you or him. You know better, but it doesn't make anything much nicer. 

You close your eyes, a frown on your face and hesitancy in your heart. 

Well…it was only a matter of time. 

[starry-nights-garden]

Yunho ✧ A Dance for Two

✧ Ateez Yunho x gn!reader ✧ words: ~2.5k ✧ genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst ✧ warnings: suggestive, (reader is smaller than him, mentions of him ruffling his hand through reader's hair and picking reader up)

Desc.: In which you go through the rollercoaster of emotions that comes with asking your boyfriend Yunho to teach you an Ateez choreo.

“Pleeaaase!!” Your pleas echo through the practice room, a huge pout sitting on your lips. You know that’s the biggest weapon you have against your boyfriend, and how he looks away with a defeated smile on his lips, feeling shy for a moment upon seeing you act cute, as well as the way the tension leaves his shoulders at once tell you he finally gave up.

“Fine,” Yunho says, letting out a soft sigh and redirecting his gaze to you. “But don’t complain to me later when your entire body hurts!” You have been begging him to teach you the choreography for their song Thanxx for days now. Eventually Sunday has come, where usually he’d enjoy some time off, but he decided he should go practice and make use of the fact that none of the other members would interrupt him today. You suggested you would tag along because you haven’t watched him dance in quite a while, and truth be told, you miss watching your boyfriend’s calculated moves, and how he seems to be going with the flow of the music so effortlessly whenever he dances. Seeing this practice room date as a perfect opportunity to ask about him teaching you a few steps again, you eventually brought it up once more. The slightly annoyed sigh, masked with a loving smile, that followed told you he still isn’t the biggest fan of the idea, claiming you should at least start with something easier. After all, you don’t really have much experience with dancing, at least not to these kinds of choreos. However, in the end you managed to convince him to at least teach you the point moves of the chorus.

“Watch me,” he says, positioning himself in the middle of the room, far enough away from you so you should be able to follow his movements easily - or at least that’s how he thought it would go. He demonstrates the choreography for the entire chorus once, slowed down and while counting along, but by the time he reaches the third measure, your head is already spinning from the amount of moves you’re supposed to remember.

“Did you get that?” Yunho eventually asks after finishing, and you shake your head, staring at him with wide eyes and confusion written all over your face. He laughs. “Told you, it’s too hard for a beginner.” You gasp and shoot him a playful glare.

“Well, then explain it for a beginner! Do you think I can just copy your moves without the experience you or the other guys have?!” you scold him for assuming you could just follow along easily, to which he huffs and then gets into position again.

“Fine. I’ll explain it slowly then.” He does all the moves along with his explanations, and finally you feel like you might be able to dance along. “So before the chorus there’s the ‘Yes Sir’ part, right? You do a salute for that and stand like this. Then there’s a little break and when the chorus starts, you jump and cross your legs like this. No, the other way… yeah, like that.” He makes sure to correct you whenever you make mistakes. “Then you turn and put your arms like this.”

You copy the pose as he stretches out one arm fully, the other being bent in front of his chest, and then quickly placed behind his waist. This is about the part where you start seeing stars again, but you try to follow his instructions, and with how slowly he progresses you somewhat make it to the end of the chorus eventually. After the wave with both arms and then ducking away to change positions, he shoots you a bright look and gives you an encouraging smile.

“You’re not even half bad at this!” he praises you with a brief thumbs-up. “And now without me. 5, 6, 7, 8!” He claps along and starts slowly singing the first line of the chorus, while you just make eye contact with your reflection in the huge mirror in front of you and your mind doesn’t seem to want to finish buffering anytime soon. Eventually Yunho sighs, then laughs, and you find an endearing expression on his face.

“You forgot everything, didn’t you?”

“Uhhh… I remember this part?” You start running on the spot, alternating between throwing both arms in the air while singing the second half of the chorus. Yunho watches you in amusement for a little while, before interfering and getting behind you to correct your stance by touching you and guiding you into the right positions.

“Well, at least you got a tiny gist of it.”

“What do you mean?!” you yell out in frustration, shooting him yet another death-glare. “You can’t expect me to know everything from watching it only once!”

“But you didn’t just watch it once, did you?” He grins and pats your head one, two times. “I know you watched at least all of my fancams. And the dance practice. And probably the full stages too.”

“Hmpf,” you cross your arms in front of your chest and look away, pretending to be angry at him, even though he assumed right. This was indeed not the first time you’ve seen this dance, nor the second or third. 

“Should I dance along again?” he eventually suggests, and you reluctantly get back into position, nodding.

“That would help, yeah…” you mumble and listen to him counting from 5 to 8 again, and then starting to sing slowly. You somehow manage to follow most of his movements, though you struggle with the more complicated parts, where too many moves are combined at a fast pace. Your head starts spinning again, and eventually you malfunction, freezing in place while trying to comprehend what part of your body to move how and where, and you end up just cocking your head at yourself in the mirror again. Yunho stops singing and starts laughing as soon as he notices your struggles, and he approaches you to throw his arms around your upper body. Leaning in to take a closer look at your face, he can’t suppress a grin at your very apparent confusion.

“You have no idea what’s going on, do you?” he laughs, pointing at you. All you manage to do in response is pout angrily. Your boyfriend ruffles through your hair again and then leaves a quick peck on your lips.

“You just gotta feel the music and do what it tells you to! Really, if you look at it that way, it isn’t that hard!” He walks over to the stereo and turns on the song. “I’ll show you!” Dancing the entire first verse and chorus flawlessly, he leaves you gaping on one hand, and very discouraged on the other. “See?” he eventually turns the music back down and shoots you a proud smile. “It’s not that hard.” You just raise your eyebrows, debating on whether to call him an idiot or not, because you’re still not even nearly as good a dancer as he is.

“I really don’t think it’s that easy though…?” You comment, and he convinces you to try again. Even though originally you were the one who begged him to teach you the dance, you now regret it, feeling like you’ll never see the day you have it all down. To your surprise he starts the music again, as if wanting you to dance along, and when the chorus starts you barely make it past the first turn, and then just completely lose track of what to do, while Yunho dances energetically next to you.

“I’m not cut out for this, Yunho…” you eventually say with your shoulders slouched over. 

“I told you, you should start with something easier,” he answers, putting his arms around you to hold you close to him for a moment. “I’ll teach you some basics first, okay? And then we look into learning choreos again.”

“But…” you pout at him, about to protest. “I wanna know your dances…” He lowers himself a bit so he’s on eye level with you, and he gives you a sympathetic smile.

“Our choreos are hard, baby,” he tries to comfort you. “It’s okay if it takes you a while to learn them.”

“Well, I’m just gonna ask one of the other guys then!” you burst out suddenly, your frustration taking over you. “I bet they’re better teachers than you…” You puff out your cheeks and turn your back to him, to show how you don’t appreciate him not giving you enough time to learn at your own pace.

“Are you upset…?” Yunho asks carefully, and from the way his tone is more silent than usual you know that he’s worried he hurt you. 

“Do you wanna teach me or do you wanna prove to me that I’m not as good a dancer as you are?” you ask, not paying him a single look. It should be apparent to him by now that he did indeed hurt you, and you can practically feel his internal panic as he suddenly tenses up behind you, unsure what to do now.

“I-I’m sorry… I didn’t realize I was upsetting you…” he eventually forces himself to stammer out an apology. “I think… my pride took the better of me and I just… wanted to show how difficult our choreographies are… I’m really sorry…” Feeling his overconfident presence from just a few moments ago fading and turning more into that of a puppy who just got scolded, you sigh and turn around. You reach out to grab the collar of his shirt, and you get on tiptoes while you pull him towards you, eventually capturing his lips with yours. You give him a kiss that tries to convey that while he upset you, you forgive him, eventually ending with brushing your lips against his softly before you part.

“How about you just try again then?” you suggest. “I still wanna learn it, you know? So, if you don’t do the job then someone else will.” Upon being faced with the choice between him being the one who gets to have fun teaching you the dance or it being one of his members, it suddenly all seems very clear to him what to do.

“I’ll teach you,” he says, without so much as a hint of hesitation in his voice. “We have time anyway, so… there’s no need to rush.” He utters that last part more directed to himself than to you, you assume, and he doesn’t waste any time to get into position. “Okay, so… you made it until the turn, right? Should I show you the next part again?”

“Yes, please,” you answer, and he demonstrates it a few times for you, explaining every little thing to watch out for in detail. You can see he’s trying to be more patient with you now, standing closely behind you to correct your posture or to lead your hands into the right positions if you focus too much on what the lower part of your body has to do, making them ending up floating somewhere in the air awkwardly.

“You’re doing well,” he makes sure to praise you whenever you remember a difficult step, his warm voice filling your ears from behind you. You let him guide your figure into the right poses, finding yourself enjoying his hands carefully roaming your body a little too much, and eventually you lose focus on what steps to do next. 

“You’re not concentrated anymore, are you?” Yunho questions. “Wanna take a little break?” You spin around in response so you face him now, and you put your arms onto his shoulders, looking up at him with doe eyes. He’s a bit taken aback by your sudden change in mood, but only a second later a confident smile appears on his face and he leans in, knowing exactly what you want. He kisses you, lips melting against each other perfectly. He slides one of his hands to the small of your back to support you, while he lets the fingertips of the other trace the outlines of your body. Somehow forgetting all about what you originally came here for, your kisses grow hotter, breaths mingling when you part for air for just a moment. Overcome with the need to feel the other’s lips on yours again, you barely leave yourselves enough time to breathe. Your hand finds its way up into his hair, and as you tug at it he lets out a silent gasp, creating an opening for you to slip your tongue past his lips. Still refusing to break apart, he softly starts pushing you into one direction, until your back hits the cool glass of the mirror on the wall. Yunho places one hand next to you, trapping you between him and the surface behind you, and with the other he briefly cups your face, until eventually you are forced to part again for a second. Letting his hands travel down to your thighs, he picks you up off the floor, while you hold onto his shoulders and throw your legs around his hips, and then he continues kissing you. Leaving your lips eventually, both panting, he trails little kisses along your jaw and down your neck, burying his face there.

“Yunho,” you breathe his name.

“Hmm?” He responds with just that, before he proceeds to pepper kisses all over your skin. The slightly ticklish sensation makes you chuckle.

“We shouldn’t do this kind of thing here, you know…?” you remark. You are still at the company after all, and people might come in at any given time, though it’s unlikely on a Sunday.

“I know,” you hear him whisper, before gently biting your earlobe, and then pulling back to look at you. He places another lingering kiss on your lips, before letting you back down. When your feet hit the ground, you feel a sense of disappointment. So you snake your arms around his waist, continuing to look up at him.

“What? I thought we should stop?” he teases you now, causing you to pout again in frustration. Eventually you manage to tear yourself away, and you take a few steps towards the center of the room to bring some distance between you two.

“Right, I wanted to learn-” Your words are cut off when Yunho wraps his arms around your body from behind, putting his chin on top of your right shoulder. You dare to glance to the side only to meet his half-lidded eyes looking at you.

“However, we could go to your place and I… teach you some other dance moves?” You gulp at the question, but don’t hesitate to answer.

“Sounds good, yeah.” You turn in his hold and kiss him again, slowly moving your lips against his. “My roommate won’t be home anyway…”

[whoiwanttoday]

It's Monday and I was up early so of course I am listening to Prince. You know, Cream came on, which is appropriate because obviously it's a song about making lattes. Just listen to that chorus, "Cream, get on top". There is no other interpretation to that entire song if you ask me. Anyway, it makes it the perfect song to make coffee too, even if it makes me wish I had a milk steamer. While listening to songs that are only about breakfast from a man who wrote about all the best foods, I mean Dinner with Delores, a Raspberry Beret sounds delicious, and a third one cause I am really struggling to try and come up with another I can pretend isn't about fucking. Anyway, during this I grabbed my phone and started scrolling and Tinashe posted some new pictures of herself and she also felt appropriate for this morning because… fuck, I dunno, she's an R&B artist as well? She's really hot and Prince writes sexy music? Anyway, she looked good and coincidentally I was just thinking about her last night anyway so here she is. Today I want to fuck Tinashe.

[vickyvicarious]

I'll follow you into the dark - death cab for cutie

This is such a "then she shall not go into that unknown and terrible land alone" song I'm losing my mind. It's exactly what I imagine Jonathan saying either to Mina or thinking to himself when he was considering things could take a turn for the worst.

"If heaven and hell decide that they both are satisfied, Illuminate the no's on their vacancy signs; If there's no one beside you when your soul embarks, then I'll follow you into the dark"

The whole song is good and a mood for them but the chorus really is the highlight of "wtf do you mean this wasn't written about them"

A classic... I remember listening to this when I was younger and saying it was romantic, and my mom giving me a Look about the implied suicide after the death of a loved one being romantic. I had to clarify not in a 'emulate this' kind of way or anything. And certainly that same 'would they want that for you? no' element is going on with Mina's perspective. But that's not directly in the song either way.

Of course obviously no doubt the chorus/general premise of 'I'll follow you into the dark' is 100% Jonathan's thoughts on Mina turning. That first verse is excellent for his vow to himself. I love the emphasis on "our hands clasped so tight" because again I go wild over the handholding in this book. And yeah, the chorus just repeatedly reaffirming his choice...

The second and third verses are lyrically way less fitting, naturally. If I'm trying to look for it, I can find a comparison in the second verse to Jonathan's time in Castle Dracula. The Dracula as conqueror thing = "as vicious as Roman rule" and the lady in black telling him "fear is the heart of love" while he holds his tongue... Well, like I said if I'm looking I could compare that to the vampire ladies' and Dracula's ideas of 'kisses' and love, and Jonathan have to keep quiet about his true feelings during almost his entire stay.

As for the third verse, again less fitting but it comes closest to Jonathan sticking true to this choice later on. They've traveled together, which they always dreamed of doing, and even if this journey doesn't end the way they hope, then it's okay. He'll stay with her. No matter what, no matter where. But the main star is naturally the chorus.

The tone of the music and the song is so interesting in this context because on the one hand, it's way more resigned sounding than Jonathan ever is. He's burning up with a fierce, volcanic desire to make sure this never happens, and no way does the song get that across. But it is still an if/then and just very clear/firm on what the then will be, which does fit him. Again, it sounds so gentle, like he's reassuring Mina... except if he said this out loud to her she'd feel the need to argue against it, so it could only ever be reassuring to a point I guess. But a great song for them for sure.

[starrrling]

TASK 005: THE TALENT SHOW

"Y'know, I had to retune my guitar for this, you guys..."

Richard got her the guitar for her fourteenth birthday, and she named it Desdemona. It was a vintage Taylor, exactly like she’d asked for, an electro-acoustic Dreadnought in whiskey sour. She’d loved it fiercely for years, irritating everybody on the third floor (Reece didn’t like the sound-proof music room in the basement—not enough light) with her covers of Liz Phair, The Cure, No Doubt. 

How many Fridays in a row were the wards treated to a breakfast performance from Reece, singing “I don’t care if Monday’s blue…!” into her cereal spoon? (That was after Richard made a rule about Reece not bringing her boombox down to the breakfast table, but before Mrs. Tristan made a rule that Reece could only eat cereal with her hands—a rule which lasted all the way through 1992.)

Desdemona remained behind at the Woodrow House when Reece moved out, replaced by her more portable electric Jaguar, Jenny. But she had Desdemona with her again now, still spangled with faded stickers, just a little bit too big for her to comfortably cradle sitting down. She wanted to tell herself that something about it just felt right. She didn’t want to think about the fact that she’d forgotten the Jaguar at the apartment that she was not sure she could go back to, the apartment she’d shared with Jack and from which she’d fled to Alison’s car with only the essentials. But Jenny had been an essential, and Reece had forgotten. 

So she had Desdemona in hand when she stepped into the pool of golden light in the spare room, onto a sort of stage they’d set up, because they were doing a talent show. Reece was plaintively aware of her status as entirely unextraordinary in comparison to the vast majority of the other wards; rather than brimming with potential, she’d been a lost soul, somebody to be saved. 

“Last January,” Reece said, moving to the mic, squinting a little against the light, her smile self-effacing, “when D was driving me to rehab—that long, quiet drive downstate, y’know, hours where you don’t see a single other soul on the road—he turned on the radio. Switched it from static to NPR, sort of mindlessly, but they were talking about Bush’s second inauguration, which made me want to drink, so I changed the station until I got to one playing Green Day. This song. The chorus came on, and there’s this part, right, where Billie Joe Armstrong rhymes the word ‘again’ with itself, a little clumsy. So, when he heard that, Richard sort of frowned, and he said, ‘Adverb epiphora in a chorus? That makes me want to drink.’ So, this is for him. Just the verses.”

The song’s main riff itself was simple enough, a lot of 0-2-3 stuff around the fifth and sixth chords, quick and twangy and vaguely hypnotic. A few repeating counts of just that sound in the quiet, her calloused fingers plucking at the strings in rote memory, and then Reece began to sing. Her voice was somehow both dulcet and hoarse; she didn’t think she had the kind of voice that anyone really needed to hear, but when had that ever stopped her?

Summer has come and passed,  the innocent can never last, wake me up when September ends. 

Richard had signed her up for singing lessons shortly after she arrived at Woodrow (“What she lacks in discipline, she makes up for in volume,” the instructor had told Richard once); then followed piano, percussion, guitar, music theory. When she started really learning to write music at 15, it was euphoric, like her skull had split clean open, but her actual aspirations for her future remained vague. Maybe she never really believed that she was talented enough to get very far, or maybe she just couldn’t picture any future version of herself that was successful, capable, exceptional. She wandered her way through a few years of majoring in ‘recorded music’ at NYU, and she ended up as a dropout guitar teacher in Staten Island. 

Like my father’s come to pass,  seven years has gone so fast, wake me up when September ends. 

The song, she knew, was so absurdly apt, almost too on-the-nose. It seemed somehow like the safest option for her performance, like the plain honesty of the song would keep every other true thing that Reece didn’t want everyone to know from pushing past her lips when she stepped onto the stage. Reece was trying very hard to make herself opt for whatever the safest option was, but it was behavior that didn’t come naturally to her at all. 

Ring out the bells again, like we did when Spring began wake me up when September ends. 

Her voice was too loud in her own ears; her exposed skin felt sunburnt from the spotlight’s glare. She was too terribly present, so here and now exactly when she didn’t want to be, exactly when she didn’t know if she could handle it. It was as if Reece could suddenly see her whole life condensed, a series of saviors and nosedives, the bleakness of who she was when nobody else was around to hear her. The word curse was lodged behind her uvula, it was catching between her two front teeth. Richard was dead, and she was starting to wonder if maybe it mattered that she was a lost cause who was probably completely doomed.

[coconut530]

ok I'm rambling again so yeah. Hello veteran worshippers I'm new :)

I mean, like I knew about Sleep Token, heard The Summoning first in one of my Trigun artist’s Tiktoks, then heard Take Me Back To Eden in a video by the creator of Covenant Webtoon. Listened to those songs for fun sometimes, but then TMBTE got ✨stuck✨ in my head. Then I was like “Live video of TMBTE??? Does it exist?”

And like. Why didn’t I get into this band sooner.

First off here’s The Summoning and TMBTE so you can see my pipeline:

And then THIS RITUAL introduced me to the band, which was FREAKING AMAZING IT’S SUCH A GOOD RECORDING!!

I love their aesthetic, secondly. You don’t see many mysterious bands these days, and these guys deliver so well. Every single member has a distinct and interesting look that's all so cool. I love how the Vesselettes/Espera exist, like that's amazing and I love seeing them. Vessel looks so fun to draw I wanna do it at some point. This is the first band I’ve found that just speaks to my OCs more than other fictional characters. Probably gonna see me animate Dark Signs with one of them soon enough.

Third, like… their lyrics are some of the most creative and evocative things I’ve heard in so long. It kinda sucks they don’t do many interviews bc I’m dying to know what goes through their heads when they write this amazing music. Some of my favorite lyrics are in a list below so you don’t read a gigantic paragraph, and will also show you my favorite songs I’ve found:

Chokehold: Still getting into this one, but "So show me that which I cannot see / Even if it hurts me / Even if I can’t sleep / Oh, and though we act out of our holy duty to be constantly awake / You’ve got me in a chokehold" is a build that always gets me so hyped up

Granite: just found this one, it's so BADASS!! "When you sit there acting like you know me... So keep an eye on the road, or we'll both be here forever" is so freaking awesome. I need like an animated music video that just illustrate the lyrics bc that'd be so cool

Like That: "Fall into your eyes like a grave (all that is inside, all your anger) / Bury me to the sound of your name, no (all your disgust, all your resentment) / Fall into your eyes like a grave (all your difference, all your pain) / Bury me to the sound of your name (all your pain)." There's so much resentment in this song and it's dripping off of these lyrics specifically, it's awesome

Missing Limbs: just found this one also but OMG it made me tear up the first time watching it in the Red Rocks Ritual! It's so sweet and tender, by the time you get to the title at the end you just get punched in the feels. "I'd give anything / To balance your conviction with certainty / To fall asleep without you lying next to me / To sever my connection with everything ... And I'll live like I've got missing limbs for you" IS SO GOOD HURTS MEEEEEEEE

The Summoning: -insert the rest of the song after 5:00- Obviously this is the part everyone uses in their social media posts, and I am not immune to its allure. It’s amazing!

Take Me Back To Eden: -insert the entire second chorus- and "And I don't know what's got its teeth in me / but I'm about to bite back in anger / And no amount of self-sought fury / will bring back the glory of innocence." The way Vessel sings this is so desperate and like enhances the lyrics so much more augh

Aqua Regia: honestly like all of it. The rap-ish style with the creative lyrics is so cool and the imagery of it all is so vivid. I love how the second chorus builds with the verse. It has such a steady, pungent rhythm that's so fun to sing

Rain: "I know, I know, I am what I am / The mouth of the wolf, the eyes of the lamb / So darling, will you saturate? / -second chorus-." I love the opposites in this verse, so interesting. The chorus has that yearning (tm) and I'm all here for ittttttt

The Night Does Not Belong To God: "When you live by daylight / With angels at your side." It's literally two lines but after the beautiful build that intros the song and his angelic voice, it does something to you

Dark Signs: I melt into a puddle every time I hear "I might break and bend to my basic need to be loved and close to somebody." The line is evocative enough just hearing it once, but making it a backing vocal that’s always playing just makes it punch you over and over. All the beat drops in this song are amazing

Atlantic: EVERY FREAKING WORD AND NOTE IN THIS SONG

I need y'all to like... hear Atlantic at Red Rocks specifically (cw: flashing):

This is the main reason I made this post bc... LIKE EVERYONE NEEDS TO HEAR THIS HELLO?!?!?!?!?!?!?!! This version is so amazing I barely listen to the studio version. "Sobbing as they turn to statues at the bedside / I'm trying not to crush into sand." I can't tell you what exactly but this makes me feel things. "Call me when they bury bodies underwater / It's blue light over murder for me / Crumble like a temple built from future daughters / To wastelands when the oceans recede" is a phenomenal verse and I've never felt more connected to the ocean when I hear it. The piano, the vocals, the instruments, the venue, II singing at the end, the vesselettes, the lights. Oh my god. The outro. Soothing and angelic omggggg. That beat drop?!?!?! ✨ w h a t ✨ . They've put an addictive substance into every one of their songs but this one is like an overdose. Can't get anything done all I'm thinking about is this -flails hands at video-. Vessel is literally a vessel in this song bc whatever entities the band made a deal with to have music this good are singing through him here.

And like the fourth thing. By now listening to all these songs may have made you realize:

what can’t they do?!?! Their music just goes into so many different genres sometimes and it’s amazing. Never heard a band this versatile.

Uh, yeah. That's been my experience with Sleep Token so far, and I am so normal about them, as you can see :D !!!!! Excited to be into them and this community. Any of my followers reading this who don't know who they are, go check them out, they're freaking amazing. They will change you.

[fields-of-elation]

"Descending" is one of the songs I don't listen to that often but I just did and it kicked me in the shin.

To me, this song appears to be about being too far gone to be helped (and in Vessel's case, having turned to Sleep when everybody was not paying attention).

Sort of a "post-mortem" cry of help. People suddenly coming back when it's too late even though help has been asked for before.

"You come crawling back to me / But I'm already underground / And we all know that talk is cheap / So come on and save me now"

The last line in this paragraph almost sounds spiteful, sarcastic. They weren't here, maybe they can help now that it's too late anyway, which the next part of the chorus reinforces:

"And you wonder what I believe /But you don't wanna be around /So what would you do for me? / Yeah, what would you do for me?"

Asking "what would you do for me" twice to reinforce what in fact those people would do to help anyway? Talk is cheap, where is the action? They don't wanna be around anyway.

Okay and finally, the pre-chorus which made my inner third eye open:

"And I won't let you fall / I've been left no choice/ Don't you see that?"

Going back to Vessel, he has been left no choice but to turn to Sleep to deal with whatever pain he is dealing with. The "I won't let you fall" is sort of ambiguous to me. It could be Sleep, it could be Vessel talk to the third person in that context. Or, the entire pre-chorus is Sleep talking to Vessel that they had no choice but to do what they did.

Those are my two cents on that song which made me appreciate a whole lot more, feel free to add your thoughts!