#that once something goes wrong that we forget that there's nuance and it affects real ppl too

[oswlld]

this is the one time i will address a reply, since i am seeing a lot of this coming up in my notes and do want to clarify that i agree w you wholeheartedly and i NEVER made any claim that i was happy with the ending or that gaining his sight back served the story any justice.

i would go more into how irked i was with some of the takes and how they put other people in the disability spectrum down, but ppl have done a better job of conveying my exact thoughts/criticisms in the tags already so i'll direct everyone's attention below

#okay i had mashed potatoes and now i'm back and i want to make this the first post i reblog about it#because it's such an important perspective to keep in mind when phrasing analysis/rants/disappointments with the choice made with the endin#states of ability come and go across people's life times#and nobody has the right to diminish those experiences or dictate how people manage/treat their bodily challenges.#it *is* a nuanced conversation in disability spaces#it *is* a nuanced thing which is rarely considered in disability policies in larger systems#that said - and i can only ever give my own opinion with the consideration of other perspectives - last twilight did not tell that story#and to say it did feels like an incredibly generous-hearted read. and maybe i'm just too jaded to read this text that way but#15 minutes at the end of 12 weeks. with the tone of a dcom pairing the spares that look inconveniently gay.#as a tidy bow or cherry on top to complete a state of happiness#or the only way to fulfil on the message of hope. it was slapdash and insulting#and if the people involved wanted me to read that as a nuanced subject treatment then they had a lot further to go before they earned it#but again: that's just my opinion#and i will not be villifying people who do identify with day's recovery trajectory because that's fucking real#but as a story? in execution? for the permanently disabled AND the temporarily/episodically disabled? this was a failure to me#and i feel like i've been made a fool of by a creator i respected (if did not totally trust)#he bit off more than he could chew and i won't be swallowing it unfortunately#last twilight (via @icouldhyperfixatehim)

#this is an important perspective i didnt consider#the ending still definitely fell apart because of how day and mhoks relationship was handled with mhoks grief never being given care#and day never stepping up and emotionally supporting him and letting mhok shoulder undeserved blame for their break up#but i will keep this in mind about the disability rep aspect (via @yourstormthlaylirahh)

#this is a really important point!!#i didnt discuss this in my post bc i didnt wanna make it too long#but its so so so important to note that it does show a real part of disability and it will resonate with disabled people still!#just because i dont like the representation doesnt mean its extremely nuanced to call it bad representation through and through#thank you op for sharing this#i did pt in high school and was pretty much fine but i stopped and now im back to struggling#its just like… frustrating to have to do it for the rest of my life just so i can walk without pain idk#disability sucks who would have guessed lol#last twilight (thanks again @biolums)

#good perspective to be shared#i watched the show from the perspective of someone with a permanent disability#so the ending was not what i would have liked to see#BUT its good to see what the ending looks like from another pov#last twilight the series (via @infinitelyprecious)

#haven’t seen ep 11 or 12 yet#but this is a really important perspective#i’m not disabled so i didn’t feel comfortable commenting after the donor revelation at the end of ep 10#but i was feeling similarly in terms of calling it a waste for the surgery to potentially work#please think while you’re writing and before you post… it’s just a show but your comments can affect real people#last twilight#last twlight the series (via @semantic-vegas)

and lastly,

#thank you so much for sharing jessi#and this really is what i wanna put out there bc you can say it’s a story or a character and the whole point is to show someone living#happily with a disability#but when from the start they talk about the fact this is from an accident and they’re waiting on surgery you know it’s gonna happen#this wasn’t the story of someone living with a disability for life it was someone encountering what living like that is like but not giving#up and looking for hope and I don’t think you should hate on the show for rewarding that hope#it’s a different story and I don’t like when people hate on a story for what they want and expected it to be#it’s better to take what is given to you and dissect why you did or didn’t like what they do#and the reason why I didn’t like what they did is bc we didn’t get to see enough of the journey day was on getting his sight back and what#his life afterwards is like bc the message could’ve been that we need to be more considerate of people with disabilities and find ways to#make them feel included and give them their own spaces and show how day with his sight can still be part of those spaces#a journey is not dictated by its endpoint so it’s not about hating on the ending where he can see it’s looking at why that ending didn’t#work and it’s bc we didn’t get to see the whole journey#last twilight (via @jemmo)

tl;dr we are on the same page, it's all good.

i don't want to go into too much detail about my life and how i connected to LT, but just know i am not entirely comfortable with what i am seeing on my dash. a few years ago circumstances lead to me losing my hearing for majority of a year and then became hard hearing for a period of time before i regained my hearing back. its not fully where it used to be but that loss, that hope, and what you take with you on the other side stays with you long after the recovery. i know because i see it every time my mom is in remission.

and then a few months ago, i got a concussion which lead to me being momentarily unable to walk without an caregiver/walker/cane. i worked hard on my PT and now am able to manage on my own two feet again as of three weeks ago.

all i am saying is sure hating on part 4 is your opinion and might not be for you but there are people in your life and maybe on your dash that are reading what you think about people who were disabled at a time of their life, are on their way to recovery now, or got the treatment they've been waiting for. the hardships, the journey, even all the good that happened during allllll that still matters after recovery.

[cruelfeline]

I’ve been thinking about various aspects of SPoP, as I am wont to do, and as often happens, I’ve settled on trying to figure out why I feel a certain way. Namely regarding why I, personally, am able to feel so much more compassion towards Hordak rather than towards the Princesses. After all, the Princesses are the ones being wronged throughout this show, aren’t they? Their lands are being invaded. They’re the ones having to fight to maintain their way of life. They’re losing ground because of Hordak’s war.

So... why do I find it hard to care about them? Why are their experiences in this conflict just sort of... well, meaningless to me?

And why, instead, do my tender emotional responses strongly favor Hordak, despite his serious role in starting a terrible war?

Well! As per usual, I’m going to try to talk my way through it. 

(and, as per usual, your mileage may vary!)

Let’s start with the Princesses. They range from children to young adults. Seem like reasonably nice girls, despite various flaws. They clearly did not ask for a war, had no hand in starting it, and are clearly on the side of good, seeking to protect innocents and simply return to a peaceful way of life.

They appear perfectly designed to garner sympathy and connection... yet I feel so little for them. I feel little because, despite the show telling me that they’re fighting for their lives, and for their home, despite them being the apparent underdogs in their battle against the Horde, I feel like their lives remain relatively stable. Pleasant. Even enjoyable. 

Essentially, I feel like despite everything, they do not truly suffer. Not in a way that is consistent or touching. 

The arcs the Princesses go through either deal largely with matters unrelated to the war and subsequently involve less arduous difficulties, or are handled in such a way that any real pain is quickly resolved and loses its impact.

Frosta and Perfuma represent the former. Both are parentless rulers of their kingdoms, but there is no real confirmation that their parents were killed by the Horde, and they themselves seem largely unperturbed by parental loss. They maintain control of their kingdoms throughout the series. Frosta never loses the Kingdom of Snows, while Perfuma, though in brief danger of losing Plumeria due to damage to the Heart Blossom, ends up... well, defeating the Horde with a band of untrained hippies. So while they fight in the war against Hordak, they never really suffer any significant, confirmed personal losses because of it.

In fact, the Plumerian conflict is... kind of played for laughs.

The other aspects of their arcs have largely to do with friendship matters, or self-belief, and are also dealt with quickly and with little fanfare. Frosta learns how to make friends. Perfuma learns how to play with cacti. Afterwards, Frosta spends the remainder of the story essentially being a violence-happy little kid; amusing, yes, but not particularly tugging at my heartstrings. Perfuma likewise settles into “sympathetic friend” and, though she’s involved in Scorpia’s story at the end, also does little to invoke any sort of significant emotion. 

we’re just going to skirt around the whole “leashing Entrapta” thing, as it’s not relevant to this discussion

(Spinnerella and Netossa barely even register to me, given their very bare-bones roles in the first four seasons and standard “chipped loved one” narrative (that everyone experiences) in the fifth.) 

So, let’s move on to Glimmer and Mermista.

Glimmer and Mermista are arguably the two Princesses who actually lose unique things in the war and suffer because of those losses. And yet, because of the way the show is written, even their pain is dulled in such a way that it just does not facilitate me forming any sort of consistent, compassionate bond with them.

Mermista is the only Princess to actually lose a kingdom. In Hordak’s most visible evil act, Salineas is burned and beflagged, leading to Mermista deeply mourning the loss of her home, her culture, her peop- oh. Hm.

She takes it oddly well, doesn’t she? Apparently, ice cream in a bathtub is how deposed rulers deal with the loss of their entire country nowadays. 

And once she’s done with her moment of moping, she’s back in the fight, fueled by Sea Hawk’s shenanigans and her own power ballad (and Bright Moon’s lack of ice cream). There is no extended mourning for her people, no real depth to the loss she has supposedly suffered. There’s not even a real sense of it: we never see the people of Salineas, never know them, never get to feel anything for them. And with them being all but theoretical, the show appears to have no issue quickly forgetting them: Mermista never negotiates on their behalf, or visits refugees, or... anything. She might use Salineas in her future battle cries and as an excuse for increased recklessness, but that homage is the extent of emotion that we see.

Kingdom gone, bathtub ice cream finished, she goes on living life as if little has happened. And, because of her royal connections, she doesn’t even experience a decrease in quality of life: she continues to live in luxurious comfort despite an apparently raging war.

Because of how the writing handles Salineas, and her character in general, I never feel connected to how Mermista feels. Whatever pain she experiences is there and gone in a few scenes, quickly dealt with so the story can continue. There is no exploration, no nuance, nothing to really make me appreciate any sort of depth to her experience. And so I feel little, if anything, for her plight.

Glimmer, then, is the last chance the show has to make me feel something for the Alliance Princesses’ suffering during this war, and while season four nearly does it, the series again ends up falling short. 

Glimmer loses her mother. The actual sacrifice is emotional... though that emotion, admittedly, comes mainly from Adora. Glimmer’s pain comes through at the beginning of season four, when she is clearly in mourning all while needing to take Angella’s place as queen. Afterwards, season four does a fairly good job of making the loss meaningful: Glimmer becomes more and more willing to commit dark acts due to a mixture of grief and desperation. It works well, and out of all of the Princesses, I feel for her the most... until season five comes along and pretty much erases Angella from character consciousness.

Angella’s death essentially plays no role in season five. Glimmer does not appear to think back to it. While it drives her actions during season four, it appears to have been all but forgotten now, a particularly glaring shift when Catra, the one who is practically responsible, joins the group without it coming up at all. Glimmer’s other parental loss, Micah, likewise becomes meaningless not because of questionable writing choices, but because he simply never died.

Glimmer’s other problem, her rift with Bow and Adora, is repaired within an episode and never spoken of again. That... falls quite flat for me. 

And so, by the end of the series, Glimmer fails to maintain a believable level of distress and thus doesn’t invoke any real emotion in me. The one thing that really mattered, that really hurt her? Suddenly irrelevant in the name of Catra’s redemption. Hm.

And while these are the specific character examples that come to mind, the general situation the Princesses find themselves also fails to carry much weight in my mind. They are in the middle of a war, yet they continue to live in luxury. Skirmishes carry a sense of light-heartedness and sometimes seem almost fun. Battle plans are developed via a game of DnD. There is just no consistent sense of urgency or severity, no believable sense of emotional depth to convey to me that these characters are in truly dire straits. Yes, there are moments... but these moments are so brief, and carry such questionable lasting impact, that they don’t connect with me the way that they should. And as a result, the plight of the Princesses just feels hollow to me. 

I just... I just find myself unable to care about them because, when all is said and done, I don’t feel like they are truly in danger of real harm, or that they are realistically affected by their losses. It all just feels so shallow to me.

Now, let’s pivot and look at Hordak. Hordak, whom I still cry over on the daily. Hordak, who has owned my heart for over a year now. Hordak, who invokes in me all of the emotions. 

What is the difference between Hordak and the Princesses, other than the glaring fact that he is the instigator of the Etherian war and thus a bad, bad man? What makes him snap my heartstrings in half, while the Princesses barely manage a gentle tug?

The answer is that Hordak legitimately suffers. Terribly. Consistently. Throughout the entire series. While the Princesses experience brief moments of distress that the show quickly sweeps under the rug in favor of witty banter and friendship problems, Hordak is the direct opposite: he experiences only the occasional breath of happiness while otherwise drowning in a constant sea of bitterness, fear, pain, and deep unhappiness.  

From the moment we meet him, Hordak is stern and humorless and angry, and while this initially appears to be a side effect of him being a Standard Ultimate Villain Who Never Smiles, we quickly learn that it is due to his struggle. Hordak is constantly struggling against his physical defect, battling an illness that causes him not only significant health problems, but incredible shame. He is likewise constantly struggling to earn the respect and validation and nonexistent love of his god-brother. His sour demeanor, with all of its anger and dourness, originates in the fact that, throughout the overwhelming majority of the series, he is gravely unhappy. He is in ever-present distress, both physical and emotional. 

And as the series goes on, does that distress lessen? No. No, instead, he is rejected by his brother, thoroughly humiliated, and brutally “reset” back into his life as an actual cult slave. Rather than having his difficulties minimized like so many Princesses do, he finds himself in ever-worsening circumstances, graduating from (supposed) “disgraced, disabled military veteran” to “enslaved cultist desperate to be loved by his loveless master.”

Any moments of happiness are not only relatively brief, they are taken away as quickly as the Princesses’ moments of difficulty are. Hordak experiences love and friendship for the first time with Entrapta, only to swiftly lose her to Catra’s lies and spiraling madness. He finally begins to win the Etherian War (which is bad, yes, I know), only to realize that his victories stem from Catra’s betrayal before the whole affair culminates in Prime’s nauseating violation of his personhood.

It does not stop. Physically, mentally, or emotionally: not until his triumph over Prime in the season five finale does Hordak stop hurting, and even that is marred by Prime taking control of his body in a final act of nightmarish control before, bless him, Hordak is freed and able to begin his recovery.

In addition to being a series constant, Hordak’s pain is conveyed. It is dramatically shown through facial expressions, through body language, through phenomenal voice work, through scenes that clearly depict real anguish. 

The purification ritual is one of them; what other character do we hear scream like that, over and over, due to such terrible agony? His reunion with Prime is another; I will never forget how deeply I could sense his fear, how watching him tremble and beg instilled within me a sort of breathless panic because the scene actually made me want to instinctively protect him... but I could not because, y’know: cartoon. 

Hordak’s suffering is not only ever-present, it is varied and developed and communicated to the viewer in ways that result in it making a lasting impression. It is never minimized. It is never ignored. It is painful and horrifying with little reprieve, and it has a deep, life-altering effect on him.

That, friends and neighbors, is why I think I find myself feeling so much more compassion towards Hordak than I do towards the Princesses, despite his less-enticing place on the moral spectrum. Hordak is in pain. Consistently, meaningfully. He suffers, and the story takes it with every ounce of seriousness it can muster.

The Princesses, on the other hand, either experience little hurt or, when they do suffer, do so briefly before the narrative shoves it aside in favor of Catradora other things. As a result, they fail to make the same impression. They fail to garner my compassion because, in the end, they just don’t seem to really need it.

Whereas Hordak does.

[dafodilion]

okay so like, this might be lowkey controversial but, for the time being i’m not mad with The Letter For The King. Do i think certain things could have been handled better? Absolutely. But it’s definitely set up for another season at least. Tiuri’s mom hasn’t been seen since like, ep 2 or 3, The Queen had the black eyes that they haven’t explored yet, Lavinia hasn’t found the road, and Iona and Jaro’s strange acquantanceship is just starting.

I’m definitely upset about the death but I want to see what the show writers do with it. If it’s kept through the story and used as a source of inspiration/determination and not completely forgotten about then its one thing but if it is completely forgotten then it begs the question of why the character was introduced in the first place if they were only going to die.

This got long so analysis under the cut

I know a lot of people are upset that Tiuri was teased as the hero but it turned out to be Lavinia who had magic and I just have to say that Tiuri is definitely the protagonist in this story. It is completely centered around him. Not only does he tick most of the ‘hero’ boxes from Campbell’s The Hero’s Journey, he’s also the one we establish the emotional connection with first. I think that’s a part of why a lot of people are upset about the magic thing. He was designated ‘special dude’ in the first few episodes and then everyone finds out that there’s nothing supernatural about him. But what I think a lot of people are forgetting is that the thing that makes Tiuri the hero/protagonist in TLFTK is that he chose to be. He made the choice to help the old man at the chapel door. He’s also a kid. They all are. And save for Lavinia, they likely haven’t had much agency in a lot of their choices because they’re kids. They’re only just starting to be baby adults. So Tiuri chose to go help and that lead to him travelling across the continent.

Another part is the race thing. I’m not going to comment on this too much, not because I don’t think it’s there, I think it is to an extant, but more because I don’t want to make any rash judgments on the writers who had six episodes to tell a story that could very easily have been cut back from ten which is the usual netflix original s1 episode count. They also address that Tiuri does endure certain racist attitudes from other characters through the series. This in mind i’m really hoping that there is some nuance going into the writing that we’ll be able to see in future seasons.

Tiuri also has a questionable Lineage. His home was a victim of genocide and his and his Mother are, for all that we know, some of the few who are left. He doesn’t know who his biological father was. It was teased that his father was a Shaman and while I want to believe that, the information was given when we still thought that he had magic. It’s also shown that Shaman is used as a gender neutral term and I’ll get to that later. His mother tells him not to worry about who his father was and it could be that she was trying to get him to accept Sir Tiuri as his father and that it really doesn��t matter, or it could be that she said it for complicated plot reasons.

Speaking of parents, we have Lavinia. Lavinia’s character is interesting. She was introduced as a self-serving and very ambitious noble/princess who wants to help her people in a sustainable way. Her father is shown to see a quick fix and try to take it. Lavinia wants to find the road that ran from two kingdoms directly through her town(?). She’s done the research and the math and the planning. She just needs to go do it. That’s her goal. Then we’re introduced to the idea of her mother. We know almost nothing about her mother other than she’s gone. There’s mysterious circumstances there that have yet to be explored but they’re set up to be major plot points in the future. Also, just a side note about the magic, we only know of three cultures in TLFTK when there could easily be hundreds of cultures around the world. For there to only be one with magic would be bad world building and just on the detail we’re getting for future season set ups I want to say that the world building wouldn’t be that bad but I could be wrong.

I mentioned the gender neutral term used for Shaman and it being used to describe a magic user. For the time being, and until we get more info on the world building and term usage for the Netflix series because it apparently does differ wildly from the source material, I’m inclined to believe that Lavinia is a Shaman. So was(is?) Prince Veridian. Lavinia’s mother could have been the Shaman being talked about when Prince Veridian was interrogating the Shaman in the village. Now I’m not trying to say that Lavinia could be a woc in this world, I’m just saying that we don’t really know a whole lot about the magic being used and it’s cultural significance throughout the world, and that what we do know is incredibly limited.

Now, names are important for characters not only to distinguish them to readers but the also tell something about the characters. The name Lavinia also belonged to the wife of Aeneus who in Roman mythology was a survivor of Troy and son of Aphrodite and is an ancestor to Romulus and Remus, founders of Rome. One part of her story that her hair catches fire as an omen promising good things for her people and bad things for the latins. This is similar to how Lavinia in TLFTK almost looks to be on fire as ‘the light’ in the battle scene in e6. This is so interesting just from a meta standpoint so I wanted to point it out. I haven’t read the book or the sequel so I don’t know anything about the source material but from a writing perspective that’s a hell of a derivitave. Side note, Tiuri could possibly be derived from Turi meaning ‘of Thor’ or Tiri meaning ‘swift one’ from persian mythology or ‘outsider’ in ijaw, and these are theoretical, it could just be a name. The meanings do come from behindthename and babynames so the meanings could be entirely wrong.

Now Iona. I lover her character and I can’t wait to see more of her. She’s competent, knows what she does and doesn’t know, she can work in a group or independently, takes charge, and can kick ass. She’s also a kid, which is super important. We don’t know much about her history other than her parents are dead and that she’s likely lived a pretty rough life to be somewhat proficient in thievery, survival skills, sleight of hand, and ‘bar speak’ for lack of a better term. Past this we don’t really know much about her, or the rest of the characters for that matter. We have six plot based episodes and that’s it, so from here it’s gonna be less character analysis and more general analysis.

I think that she’s being set up as a foil to Tiuri. A foil is one character who contrasts another. They’re not necessarily opposites. One of the reasons I think this is so is because of how competent Iona is and how incompetent Tiuri is. She goes off with an adult who now(?) has no real ties to anyone, but he’s following her. (This would seem creepy but I see it more as an exasperated adult accidentally adopted an ambitious kid and now feels obligated to make sure they don’t get themselves killed.) Tiuri ends the series belonging to the knighthood. Speaking of the knighthood, this was the one thing that Iona was sure she would get and Tiuri was sure he wouldn’t. She had the confidence and skill to match and Tiuri was just kind of. There.

Now, we know so little of the characters mentioned above and even less of Foldo, Guissipo, and Piak, but they are intrinsically connected to eachother.

Its implied that they grew up together. Piak knows that Foldo tells good stories. So the three of them know each other and that makes the little romance between Foldo and Guissipo a bit more believable once that is realized. Like I said earlier, I really want to know what the show writers deal with Guissipo’s death and how it affects Foldo and Piak. I don’t really expect it to hit Tiuri or Lavinia so hard, maybe Iona if she knows, but it should definitely hit Foldo and Piak. I really hope that in the future, it’s addressed how they both grieve individually and together.

I think the only other character that I really wanna talk about is Queen Alianor. She has Tiuri’s mother and had black eyes, but she also knighted all of the boys. i really want to see what they do with that only because I don’t know what could happen.

Anyway this was more of a ‘okay people are mad about a lot of things and while I know and can agree with why, we don’t really have a lot of information as to what is planned especially with only 6 episodes adding up to less than 300 minutes and a story that could have been so much longer.’ I know that it has issues and that the show has hit certain pitfalls. I know. But I want to hope that there was a reason behind what they’ve done and with more time we’ll get to see those reasons.

[maandags]

Eidolon (Angel!Keith x Demon!reader) {part v}

*goes into hiding for 23455 years*

– – –

Summary: Keith is an angel, and he’s completed mission after mission for the Upper Hand, the organisation controlling all of the Above. He’s only failed a mission once: when he was assigned to kill you, a surprisingly charismatic demon. He roamed Earth–Middle Ground–for years before he was caught by the Upper Hand again, and things quickly go south.

Genre: angst YEEEET

Word count: 6.2K

Notes: masterlist - {previous} - {next} -- me: *doesn't update for 67 years* *updates* *doesn't update for 67 ye

– – –

And when I fall to rise

with stardust in my eyes

In the backbone of night, I’m combustible

~ King of The Clouds, Panic! At The Disco

– – –

“I got you caramel popcorn.”

You look up from where you’re tying your boots and raise an eyebrow. “Beg your pardon?”

A plastic box filled with the sticky treats lands on the couch next to you. “Caramel popcorn. You like it, right?” Keith runs a hand through his hair and plops down too, giving a small wince. He’s trying very hard to hide the fact that he’s still feeling pretty beat up, but he’s not very good at it. Or maybe you’re just very skilled at reading him.

You cautiously take the box, pop off the lid and pluck one grain from its siblings. “I do like it.” With a flourish, you stick it in your mouth and smile at the sweet taste. “How’d you know?”

Keith looks down. “You probably mentioned it while I was… out.”

Your fingers, halfway down the box already, freeze. “Say what now?”

He shrugs stiffly, the shirt draped over his lanky frame only barely moving with him. He’s lost so much weight while he was sick, and it’s affected him more than he cares to show. He still tires easily, needs a lot of sleep. He gets nauseous faster, and gets dizzy when he stands up too abruptly. Over the past few days he’s been getting better, staying up with longer intervals between naps every time but he still isn’t quite back to normal.

And it’s bothering him. You can tell it’s bothering him. He tries to help you in any way he can, though those aren’t many. You’ve had him buy groceries a few times so you could come straight home from work–but that was often quite late in the evening, and you right now you’re just about to leave for work.

“I keep getting these flashes of memories that aren’t mine. And–well–you’re the only person I’ve talked to for about two weeks, so I figured they were yours.” He gives a nervous laugh. “Well, practically the only person. I’m guessing it wasn’t the grocer who leaked some of his memories into my brain.”

“No. ‘Cause that would be weird,” you say, carefully removing your hand from the popcorn and placing the bucket on the low coffee table in front of you. Suddenly you feel cold again.

“Look,” he starts, and you firmly keep your eyes on the bowl of popcorn, not wanting to meet his, “I don’t know what you did or who you went to for whatever it is that cured me. But I do know that you saved my life, and I’ll forever be in your debt for that.”

“Keith–”

“No, seriously. I don’t need to know everything. That’s completely fine. But I don’t want you to get hurt because you were trying to help me.” And he sounds so sincere, like he means every word, and you look away and purse your lips and tug at your shoelaces because he’s really not making things easy for you.

Whenever you think you finally have your thoughts out in a row, Keith swoops in and says a line like that one and makes everything foggy again. He could have drop-kicked you in the stomach and you would be less confused. Stupid, stupid, stupid. You wonder if he’s doing it on purpose–if he knows you’ve been tasked with a mission that’s nothing short of impossible.

Not impossible in the literal sense of the word. In fact, it would hardly be a challenge at all; Keith’s still weakened and even without your knives you could overpower him in half a second. No, the impossibility of the task lies in a more complicated and nuanced territory: your morals. Your feelings towards him, to be exact, and how much you can ignore them. If you even want to ignore them, and up til now that’s not looking very likely a possibility.

The portal pass Prince Lotor gave you sits untouched in a locked drawer in your nightstand. At night, when the only sound filling the air is the nightlife of the city, you can feel it pulsing beside you, beckoning to be used. It’s tempting you, whispering for your touch, begging to return home. As far as you know, portal passes don’t have expiration dates, but you’re still hoping that the call will eventually weaken until you don’t even notice it anymore.

No, giving Keith up to the Below isn’t an option. But he’s growing stronger every day, and at one point he’s going to leave. He’ll leave, and you won’t be there to protect him anymore, and that means he’ll be fair game for any Bounty out there who caught word of the prize his capture will grant.

And really, you just want him to stay.

You want him to stay because your life has been infinitely more interesting since he showed up. You want him to stay because you took care of him for a week while he was dying, and you’re the reason he’s here, alive, in the first place. You want him to stay because you’ve grown to like him–and because he understands you in a way no one else can.

“I’m not hurt,” you assure him. Your fingers ghost over his briefly before you pull them back to your lap. “I won’t get hurt. I promise.” He gives a tentative smile and you zip your hoodie up over your t-shirt. “Let’s focus first on getting you all healed up, all right?”

“I’m fine!”

“Keith, you tripped over your own shoelace and immediately knocked yourself out. You almost threw up after going out onto the rooftop.” You tug a soft hat over your ears and, after a small moment of hesitation, grab a last small handful of caramel popcorn and cradle them in your palm. They really are good. “I’ll be back this afternoon. If anything’s wrong, call. I might not pick up right away but I’ll call back.”

He sighs, tugs at a strand of dark hair. “Okay. Bye.”

You snatch up your keys and open the door. “Take a nap,” you smile over your shoulder. You don’t stay to see his reaction.

– – –

The day goes by as most work days go by, and you huff out a breath when you sink onto a chair around lunchtime. “I’m taking my break,” you tell Emmie–the real Emmie–and she nods. It had been pretty weird to see her and the others for the first time after the whole Bountyhunter fiasco. You were pretty sure none of them noticed how you stiffened when they’d greeted you first thing in the morning, and even if they had they would probably just think you had a rough day or something.

Your phone buzzes and you jump. Before picking up, you glance at the caller ID. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Oh, did I get it right? I always forget when you have your lunch break,” Allura says.

“You got it right. I’ve literally just sat down.”

“Fabulous. It’s the hospital, you know. Messes with your perception of time.”

“I’ll take your word for it. I wouldn’t know.”

“Nah, you wouldn’t.”

You shake your head, but a smile tugs at the ends of your lips. “Did you just want to chat or did you need anything?”

“Nah, I just wanted to chat. We haven’t talked in ages! And also you won’t tell me what you’re doing or what’s going on or who is staying in your apartment… you know. Breezy stuff.” Her tone is light, but you can tell she’s a little pissed at you for ghosting her, and you honestly can’t blame her.

“Allura… I’m really sorry about that. My life’s just been really messy for the last two weeks or so. I’m working on it, I promise.”

She sighs, and you imagine the way her lips purse as she glares out into the distance. “You know,” she says suddenly, “I think I’ve been a pretty good friend so far.”

It takes you aback, and you choke out a startled laugh. “You have been. I mean, you are. You’re the best.”

“Then why won’t you tell me what’s going on? Maybe I could help.”

You lick your lips, lightly kicking at an empty cardboard box on the floor. “It’s hard to explain. I–it’s–it’s complicated.”

“Right.”

“Listen, I want to explain it. I do. You deserve to know what’s going on, but… I’m afraid of what you’ll think if I do tell you. And I’m afraid–” You only just manage to cut yourself off and swallow the words about to tip from your tongue. You let your head fall back. “Okay. What if we meet up tonight? After work? And I’ll explain what I can, okay?”

She’s silent for a moment, then says, “Fine. Okay.”

Silently, you let out a breath you’d been holding. “All right. Uh, how about the park? Let’s say half past eight?”

“Sounds good to me.”

You switch your phone to your other ear. “So, uh, see you then? I guess?”

“Okay. Bye.”

“Bye,” you say, but she’s already hung up. You growl, squeezing your eyes shut and raking a hand through your hair before rubbing your temples. “Fuck.”

Is this whole ordeal worth jeopardising your friendship with Allura? No. But then again, how much of a choice do you really have? What are you going to tell her? Oh yeah, I’m actually demon, and I kind of saved an angel that I then later learned is on the lam so now I’m harboring a fugitive. It just doesn’t ring very well.

But you’re going to have to tell her something. She’s starting to get suspicious–she has every reason to. Maybe you’ll just have to improvise a bit.

A glance at your watch tells you that your break ends in ten minutes, and you haven’t even had your lunch yet. You stand up and make your way to the snack dispenser, logging in a coin and, with a fair amount of shaking and punching the already-battered sides of the machine, plucking out a pack of raisins and a chocolate granola bar. Not much of a lunch, but oh well. Keith would have your head if he knew these were your only nutrients of the day.

Then you shake your head and frown. Since when do you care what Keith thinks?

As you nibble on the granola bar, you contemplate your phone that you laid on the coffee table in front of you. Part of you wants to call your home phone. Just to see how Keith’s doing. What he’s been up to (in the whole five hours that you haven’t seen him). Stupid, you tell yourself. Stop it. He’s fine. He’s a grown angel, for Hell’s sake. He can take care of himself.

Really, you just want to hear his voice. It’s comforting. He has a nice voice.

But you mentally scold yourself. Just because you decided you won’t turn him in doesn’t give you an excuse to get all cuddly with him. So you lick the last of the chocolate from your fingers, straighten your blue work shirt and stuff your phone in your back pocket. Tony allows phones in pockets as long as they’re switched off, so you make sure you do just that before you push the door open and resume your shift.

“Keith?” You shout his name before you even properly entered your apartment, and you’re greeted with an irritated hum from where he’s half passed out on the sofa. “Have you just been sleeping the entire day?”

“Hm.”

“Good for you. Wish I could get more than four hours’ sleep a night.”

He cracks open an eye. “You only get four hours’ sleep a night?” Oh. Not as unconscious as you thought.

“No, no,” you quickly lie, “nah, I was exaggerating. I get plenty of sleep. Don’t worry.” You kick off your shoes and drop your keys in their little box. “But you sleeping is good. It means you’ll feel better soon.”

“Hey, hey,” he says, suppressing a yawn and rubbing the sleep from his eyes, “don’t change the subject.”

“Keith. I told you I’m fine. Drop it.”

“No.”

You raise an eyebrow.

He looks at you, squinting with fatigue, but his eyes are determined and glint. “You look like crap. You’ve been working your ass off when you look like you can barely stand on your feet. I didn’t want to say anything because–well–I figured it wasn’t my place to tell you you should rest,” he adds, a bit awkwardly, but voice still firm.

“It’s not,” you say, eyebrow still raised and feeling your shoulders stiffen with ever word falling from his lips.

“But you should. Rest, I mean. I don’t know why you won’t take care of yourself, but I don’t want–” He catches himself before the end of his sentence, and when you narrow your eyes you think you can spot a faint blush dotting his cheeks. “Anyway. Just… be careful, okay?”

“Sure.” For some reason, it’s easier to be curt when he’s worrying about you instead of the other way around. Though you don’t think you’ll actually stop being worried about him until he’s a hundred percent back to normal, but him reaching out and voicing his concerns about you has your emotional walls immediately shoot up.

Up until now, you hadn’t realised how much you’d started to let them down.

You grab a cup and fill it with water, leaning against the doorframe to the kitchen as you gulp it down. Keith’s gaze is still fixed on you, and you pointedly direct yours at the floor.

“Y/N–”

“Keith. Drop it. Seriously.” You set the empty cup down on the kitchen table, maybe a bit more forcefully than necessary. “I’m actually going out tonight.”

He frowns, and again there’s that flash of concern that has you resist the urge to roll your eyes. “I’m just meeting up with a friend. I don’t know when I’ll be back, but you don’t have to wait up for me if you want to go to sleep early. God,” you add with a scoff when he purses his lips, “don’t look so disapproving. What are you, my dad?”

“Y/N–”

“I’m going out.” Your voice is quiet but icy, and you can see Keith knows he won’t change your mind.

He closes his eyes briefly. “At least eat something before you go.”

“I’ll get takeout on the way or something.” You turn on your heel and, after a split second of internal debate you pull your scarf from its place on the coat hanger and wrap it around your face. “I’ll be back in a bit.”

You don’t even wait to hear his answer.

Allura’s waiting for you on your bench, her purple scarf pulled around her cheeks and her hair piled atop her head in a bun. She looks up when you approach, then shifts a little to the side to make room for you. Her eyes are narrowed, though you suspect that’s due more to a mix of fatigue and a protection against the cold wind than it is anger against you.

“Hey,” you say, sinking onto the bench next to her.

“Hi.” She crosses her ankles and looks away briefly before focusing her gaze on you again. Her brows furrow slightly. “What happened to you?”

You freeze. “What?”

“I mean, why do you look like that?”

A hesitant laugh rolls past your lips. “Like what?”

“Like you haven’t slept, eaten, or seen sunlight in a week. No, don’t even–hey, look at me.” She grabs your wrists and forces you to look her in the eye. With every second she scrutinises your face the worry in hers grows, and she reaches out to tentatively touch the tender skin beneath your eyes. “Have you been overworking yourself?”

“No,” you say, deflated, though it comes out more like a whine.

“How much sleep have you been getting a night?”

“Allura, stop it. I feel fine.” It’s a lie, and she doesn’t look convinced. “I don’t need you fretting over me as well.”

She leans back. “What do you mean, as well?” Her lips purse and she takes your hands in hers. “Y/N, what is going on?”

You sigh, cursing yourself and this entire situation internally. You have to think very carefully about what you’re going to say and how you’re going to say it. You bite your lip, and after a moment of silence you say, “Remember when I called you a while ago about that fever?”

She nods slowly. “And I told you to sweat it out, and you said that wouldn’t work, so I told you to go find my uncle.”

“Right. Well, I did,” you sigh, thinking back to the strange excursion that was the trip by Coran’s shop.

“And did you find what you were looking for?”

“I did.” She raises an eyebrow, rolling her hand in a Go on gesture. You exhale, fumbling with the words in your mind before speaking them out loud. “It wasn’t for research purposes. I needed it because… a friend of mine–well, he’s more like an acquaintance, really–was very sick. And no, I couldn’t take him to the hospital,” you add quickly when she opens her mouth to say something.

She frowns. “Why not?”

You cringe slightly. For some reason, you don’t think He’s not human is going to cut it. “I just couldn’t, okay? Please just–just trust me on this. Listen,” you say, lowering your head into your hands, “there’s some things I really can’t tell you. I just can’t. But I’m trying my best.” Your voice catches and you’re surprised to find your eyes sting. You angrily wipe the forming tears away.

“I’ve known him for a while,” you continue. “But we never really… talked before. Because we come from… different places.” What a way to simplify it.

“So he’s, like… some kind of famous, rich, bourgeois-esque guy? Is that what I’m picking up here?” She’s trying to lighten the mood, you know she is, but the laugh you manage to grit out is bitter anyway.

“That’s one way to put it.”

It’s silent for a while, and the tension that cloaked the air before starts to fade. Allura can be quite hot-headed sometimes, but she doesn’t always manage to stay angry for long–though in this case, she would have every reason to. You’ve been avoiding her, even if you had a good reason.

Then she sighs. “I’m trying to understand, Y/N.” You glance at her, keep your mouth shut. “But it’s hard. And I’m not sure if this is just you being your mystical self, or if there’s something really weird going on, but I don’t like it. At all. Not if this is how it makes you act and feel.” Again she shoots a pointed look at your face. “But you’re asking me to trust you, so that’s what I’ll do.”

Your eyes, that narrowed as you looked down at the ground, snap open and you turn your head around fully to look at her. “Seriously?”

She nods. “Yeah. Seriously. And I don’t like it,” she repeats, shifting to sit on her hands and glaring out into the darkening evening streets, “but I trust you to not do anything stupid. Or, well, anything very stupid.”

And it makes you feel good. A huge weight seems to fall off your shoulders and you breathe a relieved sigh. “Thanks, Allura.”

“Well.” She sits up straight and hooks an arm over the back of the bench, turning fully to you, her mouth curling into a wicked grin. “Now that we worked that out, you’re going to tell me about this guy, because I want to know who you’re risking our friendship for, God damn it.”

Your head tips back. “Allura. Please. Don’t.”

“Nuh-uh-uh,” she tuts. “None of that. You owe me this. Fine, I’ll start easy. What’s his name?”

You slowly roll your head until you’re looking her in the eye. “Keith.”

She nods, grin turning smug. “Where’s he from?”

You flinch. “…Somewhere up north.”

“Ah. Touchy subject?”

“Eh.”

“Fine,” she huffs, “then answer this one. Why would he come to you now if you’ve never even spoken before? You made it sound like he was in serious trouble.”

“He was. And, well… I guess he came to me because he had nowhere else to go.”

Allura hums. Then, “You sound like you care about him.”

You start. “What?”

“You know. You took him into your apartment, you stayed home from work for a week to take care of him, you almost fucked up our friendship for him… that’s not just because you felt sorry for him.” She says it so breezily, the words more a joke by now than anything, but you still wish she hadn’t said them–if only because they ring so true.

“I barely know him,” you protest weakly.

“But you want to. Get to know him, I mean.”

“Fuck, Allura, I wanted to talk, not for you to tell me how to lead my love life,” you groan, sliding along the backrest.

She wiggles her eyebrows. ‘Who said anything about love?”

“Oh my god.” You jump up, dusting off your coat and giving your scarf a vigorous tug. “I’m gonna go now. Again, the coming days–weeks, maybe, I don’t fucking know–might be weird. There’s a bunch of stuff Keith and I need to sort out. I’ll call you eventually, but it might be smart if you kind of stayed out of it? I’d appreciate that. As a personal favour.”

“Uh, sure,” she says, looking equally taken aback and somewhat smug by your sudden flustered and rambly state. “Why’s that?”

“You know. I was already manipulated into thinking you were being tortured to get information out of me, so. I’d rather that doesn’t happen again. You know what, just pretend you don’t know me until I call you, all right?”

She freezes for only a fraction of a second, then scrambles up and grabs your sleeve.“Say what now?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s no big deal.”

“That absolutely is a big fucking deal, Y/N.”

“Figures. I’m really sorry you got sucked into this mess, Allura. You deserve better friends than me.”

Her lips purse, and before you know what’s happening she’s pulled you into a hug. “Please be careful,” she whispers into your shoulder.

You wrap your own arms around her and squeeze. “I’ll try.” Welcome to my shitstorm of a life, you think wryly, then you gently free yourself from her embrace. “I’ll call you when this is all over.”

She nods, and you’re about to walk back to your apartment when something occurs to you. You spin around again, mindlessly rubbing your forearm. “Hey, one last thing.”

“Yeah?”

You bite your lip, hesitate. “Your uncle Coran. He might be able to answer some of your questions. He’s… a special guy. I think he knows more than he lets on.”

Allura gives a small smile, then nods. “I’ll think about it.”

Your living room windows are dark, and that should have been enough to make you suspicious. Keith doesn’t put out the lights until you’re home.

But your mind is still occupied with everything you told–and didn’t tell–Allura, and you’re just feeling good that everything went the way it did. You won’t have to worry about her getting hurt anymore, and the light feeling of maybe everything will be okay after all is the reason you don’t notice anything’s wrong until you turn the keys and open the door to be greeted with darkness.

You freeze. “Keith?” No answer.

Slowly, you flick on the light switch beside you, blinking hard to force your eyes to quickly get used to the light. Nothing. The sofa looks eerily clean and made up. The blanket you gave him sits neatly folded on one armrest. Your heart speeds up, and you make your way over to the kitchen. The fridge’s contents have been rearranged. The tub of caramel popcorn is in the cabinet where you keep your sweets. He’d put it there before leaving. It’s a small gesture, but one so sweet and innocent and final that it makes a fist clench over your heart.

Somehow you sense that this is it; he’s not coming back. This isn’t one of his impromptu errands. He cleaned up after himself, made sure everything looked exactly the way it did before he even set foot in your apartment.

But it doesn’t feel right anymore. It’s empty.

Keith was never much of a presence. He wasn’t loud or brash or in constant need of attention, but he would quietly come sit in the armchair next to you when you were reading on the sofa, or he’d join you at the kitchen table and doodle on a notepad, one foot tucked under his butt and the very tip of his tongue peeking out from between his lips. His company made your apartment feel that little more alive.

Made you feel that little more alive.

And it’s not that you can’t handle yourself on your own. You can do that just fine. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t enjoy having him in your home. Another presence like you, to remind you that you’re not alone.

And it just feels weird. Why would he leave so suddenly? Without even giving you a warning? Without saying goodbye? It doesn’t make sense, and you sink down onto the sofa, fingers absentmindedly trailing over the fuzzy blanket. The room’s too clean for him to have been kidnapped or murdered; that would have looked way messier than this. No, he went by choice.

It’s late. It’s late, it’s dark, and if Keith really doesn’t want to see you again you don’t stand the slightest chance to find him in the nightly streets.

And yet, half a minute later you find yourself–all the while cursing and scoffing at yourself under your breath–outside once more, narrowing your eyes against the chilly evening wind. You hesitate for a moment, not quite sure of where to go, then you decide to just make your way to the nearest underground station and figure out where you’re headed from there. Keith knows this city, but you know it better.

So that’s how you end up in the underground at half past ten P.M, brain working at a thousand miles per hour, looking for a runaway angel that you know you have a very slim chance of finding. The cart is surprisingly crowded, and you have to crane your neck to find an unoccupied seat. You plop down beside a reading student.

The grind of the track below you makes it hard to think, so you let your head tip against the backrest of the seat and close your eyes with a sigh. A hand comes up to rub your eyelids. “What am I doing,” you whisper to yourself. The student casts you a half-curious look, but wisely doesn’t say anything.

If Keith doesn’t want to be found you doubt you’ll find him–but what if someone else does? What if someone who knows about the price Lotor fixed on Keith’s head finds him and recognises him? He’s in no shape to fight. He can barely stand upright for more than half an hour. He’ll be handed over to the Below, and then… You don’t want to think about what might happen next.

So you have to find him. You don’t know where to start, don’t know if you even can, but you have to at least try.

Your gaze flicks up to the screen where the route is all stippled out. You’re almost halfway, with four more stops to go until the final destination. None of them ring any bells at first, but then one catches your eye. You bite your lip, leaning slightly forward.

It could be. It would make sense.

You could be wrong, of course. But there’s a feeling in your gut. You’re jittery and fidgeting with the buttons on your coat and when the train slowly stops to a halt you’re the first through the doors. Your destination is clear in your head and you round corners without looking, confident that your feet will carry you where you want to go. After all, you’ve walked this route more times than you can count.

The factory is as silent and still as it was the first time you slipped through its broken gates and between its walls. You can hear faint voices coming from a room on the ground floor; laughter, music, chattering. Probably just a private friend get-together. Keith won’t be there.

It feels weird to retrace your steps from that night. The room where your painting still gleams proudly against so many others–an angel and a demon, red wings dripping from their backs. The painting makes your gut twist in a funny way, so you don’t stay very long admiring it. Then there’s the hole in the wall behind it leading to the staircase. You hop through, start climbing the steps at a leisurely pace, keeping as quiet as possible.

Only then do you start to think about what might happen if you do find him.

Up until now, you had only thought about the possibility of not finding him. But what if you do, and he explains why he left and tells you to go away? Or what if he doesn’t want to talk to you at all? Would you be able to let him go that easily?

You almost stop and turn back. Almost. But there’s something about him. Something about him that makes you feel a certain way, and you’d tried to push it down and ignore it but you don’t think you can do that anymore. And with every step you take your heart beats faster until you’re running the last feet up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time.

You half expect to see him as soon as you walk through the doorway, but of course that doesn’t happen. You slow to a halt, unsure of where to go first. You take a step forward, and the hollow sound echoes in the hallway. You clear your throat before calling out. “Keith?”

Maybe not the smartest move if you were going for discretion, but you threw caution into the wind when you stepped onto the dark top floor. He’ll be here or he won’t, and you’ll figure out what to do then.

Another step, and you peek through the first doorway. “Hello? Keith?” Nothing. You steel yourself. You’ll go by all the rooms. You won’t leave until you’ve combed through the entire floor.

And then you hear him softly say your name behind you, and you whip around. He’s leaning against a doorway, a faint smile tainting his lips, sweet and genuine but a little sad, too, and all you want to do is run to him and wrap him in your arms and press your lips against his–

But you don’t. “Keith. Hey.”

“Hi.”

You’d wanted to be a little less forward, but just the relief of seeing him caused your verbal filter to completely disappear. You step towards him, your hand reaching for him despite him standing too far away. “Why are you here?”

He raises a brow. “I could ask you the same thing.”

“What–I came to find you, obviously,” you scoff, the words coming out sharper than intended. You screw your eyes shut, your shoulders bunching around your ears. “Sorry. Sorry. I’m just–I’m glad I found you. I was worried.”

He looks down, fingers fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “Right.”

You bite your lip. “Keith.” His eyes meet yours, and you hesitantly close the distance between you until he’s a mere step away. “Why’d you leave?”

A shrug. “Don’t know.”

“Don’t believe you.”

He sighs. “I just–I feel like I’m being a burden. You’re looking more tired and sick every day and I’m just so useless.”

You start, recoiling slightly out of pure shock. “Excuse me?”

“I’ve noticed it, you know.” His jaw sets and his eyes grow cloudy. “How you try and leave the room every time I’m there. Or how you work overtime to make sure you have to spend as little time with me as possible. Or how every smile you give me is forced. They never quite reach your eyes.” His fingers twitch. “But I don’t blame you. I get it.”

You throw a look over his shoulder. The room he chose is empty bar a filthy pillow that looks like it came straight out of the trash and a blanket in the same state. “So you’ll just live here instead.” You kick an old, empty beer can out of the way. “Real homey.”

He shrugs again. Then he shivers, and it’s that small gesture that completely shatters you. Tears form in your eyes. “You wanna know why I did it? Pushed you away?” You don’t wait for an answer. “Because I actually like you way more than I should. And I was scared of what would happen if I let myself get close to you. I still am. But,” you add, nudging his arm, “that doesn’t mean I want you gone or living in a dump like this.”

“So you came to look for me.”

“Yeah.”

Now he smiles, rubbing his eyes. “You found me pretty quickly. That’s rather embarrassing.” With a sigh, he lets himself drop to the floor and props his elbows up on his knees. “Can’t even run away right.”

You scoff, sliding down the wall next to him. “Don’t sound so disappointed. I, for one, am glad I found you.”

His fingers ghost over yours. “Me too.”

And it might just be that you’re very tired because you’ve been on your feet since six A.M, or that you’re so happy and relieved to see him in one piece after running through all the possible horrible scenarios in your head. Whatever the case, you figure that if it isn’t clear now that he’s more to you than just an inconvenient guest, it might never be, so it wouldn’t mean anything if you were to take his hand in yours.

So you take his hand in yours. He stiffens for only a split second, then relaxes. After a while, he whispers, “How’d you know I was here?”

You hollow out your cheeks. “I didn’t. I wasn’t sure, I mean. But… I don’t know. I had a feeling, I guess.” You shoot him a pointed look. “You’re not gonna get sick again, are you? Last time we were here you almost died. I’d like to not have to try and find Coran’s shop again, ‘cause that was a complete disaster last time.”

Keith giggles. “I wasn’t planning to.”

You shove his shoulder with yours. “Moron. Don’t scare me like that again, all right?” The insult is kind of cancelled out by the fact that you’re still holding hands.

“Okay.” He bursts into a coughing fit and you throw him a sideways look, letting go of his hand to awkwardly pat him on the back.

“This is exactly why you need to come home,” you scold softly. “You’re not better yet. Come on.”

He casts you a look, hesitancy painted across his features. You raise your eyebrows slightly. “What?”

But then he shakes his head and pushes himself up again, holding his hand out for you to grab. “Nothing. Let’s go.”

You take it and let him pull you up, and then you’re face to face. Close. Closer than ever before. For a second you’re just standing, holding onto each other’s hands like it’s the only thing tethering you to earth. You want to kiss him. You want to kiss him. Your eyes flick down to his lips, ever so briefly. You want to kiss him.

“Let’s go.” Pulling your hand out of his feels so wrong, but you do it anyway. Reluctantly. You shove your hand in the pocket of your hoodie to hide its trembling. “We’ll take the underground.”

The ride back is not awkward. You wouldn’t call it that, but there is a kind of tension hanging in the air between you and him and you decide that you don’t like it. Another part of you whispers that it’s probably for the better. The tension means you won’t make any rash decisions. It means that you’ll think about the words you say and the things you do, important or not.

Maybe it won’t make a difference in the end. Maybe it will. At the moment it doesn’t really matter, because it’s late and Keith is half asleep in his seat, and you only allow yourself a brief moment to look at him–really look at him, study the little details of his face that would normally be clouded by lines of worry or fatigue. When he sleeps he looks so peaceful, without a care in the word. His skin smooths out. His mouth hangs open ever so slightly. He snores a little. He looks younger and, somehow, free.

But then your stop is announced over the loudspeakers and you startle as the train slowly grinds to a halt. You nudge Keith with your foot. “Wake up.” He groans, blinks a few times before hoisting himself up, softly muttering under his breath.

Your apartment looks exactly as you left it–which is to say, eerily clean and tidy. You pull a face and immediately march over to the sofa, where you shake out the neatly folded blanket and deposit it on a heap in a corner, after which you give the cushions a good shake. Keith stands in the corner of the room, hands in his pockets, a bemused smile on his lips. You crinkle your nose at him. “It felt too… orderly.”

“Because you’re not orderly.”

“That’s right. It didn’t feel like home. Like some unwanted cleaning lady came in and reorganised my entire apartment. I hated it.”

“So you’re mad at me for trying to tidy up your house?”

You roll your eyes. “Not mad. Not about that. If anything, I’m mad because you fucking ran away, but that’s forgiven and forgotten. Look, I’ve made your bed.” You point at the rumpled sofa and try to hide your mounting grin.

Keith shakes his head, laughs, and it’s a sound you will never grow tired of. “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

There’s a silence, but this time it’s not awkward in the slightest. The tension’s still there, but along with it is a kind of quiet understanding. A little sad, maybe. A little longing. But it’s something you’ve both accepted as impossible, and at the moment, that’s okay.

Because he’s back. And he’s okay. And really, that’s all that matters.

[mymelodyheart]

Forget Me Not Chapter 7 ~The Family Gathering~

"Are ye sure ye want to be the one to tell them, Sassenach? I had it already in mind what to tell ma and da, and I'm more or less prepared," Jamie said as he handed the last of the washed plates to Claire, giving her a reassuring smile. 

"I'm definitely sure," Claire replied softly, flipping the dishcloth over her shoulder as she put away dishes in the cupboard. "Since I'm very much involved, I really ought to say something. Ma and da would probably be interested in what I have to say too. You can tell them about Annalise afterwards." 

Annalise. Christ! How could I have forgotten about her? 

Although Claire was a picture of calm, Jamie could feel the anxiety and nervousness rioting through her. It's a sixth sense he had developed where she was concerned. Jamie was very familiar with the nuances of her emotions, expressions and behaviour. And even after her six years of physical absence in his life, he could still read her like a book.

Earlier, during dinner, Jamie had announced his wish for a family meeting after their meal. Usually a loud affair, with everyone talking at the same time, the banter and chatter were toned down a notch as they noted the seriousness in Jamie's voice. Ellen, his mother, though looking a tad worried, tried to lighten the mood with a smile. "Of course, Jamie, dear. We will take our drinks in the living room after we're done eating...that's if the whole family are in agreement."

Everyone nodded in reply while Brian harumphed when his wife gave him a look, knowing he'd rather be watching sports on TV after his meal.

Although curiosity and concern were etched on everyone's faces, no one asked any questions, preferring to wait until they were all gathered in the family room. Seeing the attention had turned to Claire as they noticed her fidgeting on her seat and her face turning crimson, Jamie tried to downplay the situation by asking Geillis and Jenny's fiance, Ian, to join the family meeting.  Fuck it! They might as well know.

After dinner, Claire had volunteered to clear up, and Jamie had joined her, offering to wash the dishes while she dried. He presumed she needed time to gather her thoughts and probably, to sort out the many emotions he'd seen displayed on her face.  Christ, is she having doubts about us?

The night before, following the news of Annalise's cervical cancer and pregnancy, they both went home lost in their own thoughts, holding each other's hands after Jamie called for a cab. Claire's mere presence was a relief. How many times had they sat in silence whenever he was troubled as kids, and not a word would pass through their lips, her solace and support speaking in volumes. He still had doubts about Claire's true feelings and hoped she wasn't confusing her sibling affection for him as a love between a man and a woman that desired one another. Having kissed her and felt her respond to him after years of hoping she felt the same way, his heart felt like two stones grinding together, knowing he would be leaving soon.  It's far too soon when we should be enjoying the beginnings of a committed relationship.  But it had always been that way with her - others' needs before hers, and he felt like a reprobate and a scumbag for not giving Annalise's plight much thought.  There will be enough time for that!  Jamie had five days before he departs for France and he meant to spend every second with Claire before he goes. 

Growing up, they had been demonstrative with their affection for one another and were thick as thieves, but Jamie couldn't help but notice of late, Claire's sudden shyness whenever he was near. She was full of contradictions as there was nothing shy about her kisses when she was in his arms. Probably too much, too soon, he thought, and it didn't help that he couldn't keep his hands off her. Claire's responsiveness to his kisses took every shred of decency he possessed not to take it any further, thinking he might frighten her away.  Damn it!  He wished sometimes they didn't have those shared childhood memories labelled as siblings because it made their current relationship seem wrong in her eyes.

Without much thought of anyone that may walk in on them, he suddenly took Claire's hand and led her to the walk-in pantry. She didn't say a word, her smile hinting she knew what he was up to. In the small confines of the tiny room, he brought her up against him, enfolding her in a hug that made the world seem right again. He wanted so badly to reassure her that there was nothing wrong with what they felt for one another.

"Sassenach, after we've talked to everyone...ye and I...we're going to have a very long talk too," he muttered, grazing his teeth at the side of her neck. He heard a delicate whimper, and his heart started to race.  Oh fuck!  How could he concentrate on the task at hand when Claire reacts like that every time he touched her. It blew his mind that she enjoyed his kisses as much as he did.

"Talk sure, but kissing is better," she whispered, her hands pulling down his neck to bring his mouth closer to hers.

He resisted, though it pained him to do so. He'd taken to heart what Claire had said about doing the right thing by Annalise, but he needed to sort whatever is between them before he goes. "Christ Claire, I'm trying my hardest to be grown-up here and do the right thing when all I want is to be with ye. When I leave for France, there should be nae doubts between us and I need to know if ye'll be waiting for me. I'm all in, Sassenach...all the way in, and I want ye more than anything in life and always have, but I want ye to be sure if this is what ye want...us..."  Christ, being responsible is too fucking painful.

Claire seemed to search for the right words, as Jaime held his breath. "Yes, Jamie, I'm all in, if you are." 

It was all he needed to hear. "Good lass..." Then his mouth crushed down on Claire's for an intense kiss, willing whatever trepidation she had to vanish.

..........

This is what I want, right? Jamie...yes definitely. What if Annalise's health improves and Jamie falls in love with her again? What if the baby is his? Oh God, why am I sending this beautiful man who wants me away? It's too late to change my mind now. Fickle is immature and childish. Yes, I'm all in. I can do this. Oh fuck, what if I can't? 

One of her other biggest worries was, disappointing the only family she had left. It didn't help that memories of her being ostracised in school kept resurfacing for being unconventional. Now that she was back, what would the people that knew her, say. All she ever wanted was to fit in, and Jamie, for as long as she can remember, had always made sure she belonged. Now he wants her to belong to him...to be with him. Would that be acceptable in the eyes of the people that knew and love the Fraser family? Would ma and da be disappointed? This was in a hamlet where views and beliefs were still stuck in the past and very old fashion. In a lot of people's eyes, fostered or not, she was the Frasers' daughter, even though she had retained her real parents' name. For far too long, she suppressed the attraction she felt towards Jamie, not even daring to let it dwell in her thoughts, thinking it was unethical. Surely, not anymore, in this day and age.

Claire chewed her bottom lip, as she checked her phone, aware that Jamie's eyes were on her. She didn't want to raise her head in case someone saw the dread plastered on her face.

Everyone was seated in the family room, except for Brian. He had gone to retrieve a bottle of whisky from the cellar to replenish the drinks' cabinet as they all waited apprehensively...save for Geillis. She had a knowing smile on her face, having a fair idea of what is about to transpire. Claire avoided sitting next to Jamie and sat next to Willie instead. She knew the rest of the family would find it odd as she and Jamie had always sat together whenever possible when they were growing up, Ellen often mentioning that they were attached at the hip. Their usual seat was occupied by Ian and Jenny, a single armchair that they would have normally squeezed into.

"Right...so everyone has a glass?" Brian walked in with the whisky, and everyone perked up, eager for the family talk to get started.

Oh, God, here goes nothing.   Claire had prepared her speech and had been going through it in her head for the last fifteen minutes. She watched as Brian poured whisky in each glass, and when it came to her, she whispered, "Make it a treble, da." She was beyond caring. She needed the drink badly.

Without saying anything, Brian cocked an eyebrow at Claire as he poured her desired measure. Once the whisky was served, he settled down next to Ellen. "Alright, what's the meeting all about then, Jamie?" Brian addressed, asserting his position as the head of the family.

Before Jamie, could reply and before her bravado could leave her, Claire jumped onto her feet, surprising Willie and almost spilling his drink. "I'll go first," she announced in a cracked voice, as she walked into the middle of the room, facing the semi-circle formation of the occupied seats. She swigged her whisky and took one big swallow before continuing. "I have something to say too."

Nobody said a word except for a few "Ohs.". They weren't expecting her to commence the assemblage, but they all looked at her with surprised curiosity. Claire was about to speak further when it occurred to her, the speech she had prepared mentally, had gone flying out the window.  Oh fuck!  She slammed her eyes shut, trying to find the words.  Wing it, Beauchamp, for fuck sake, just wing it!  She looked at her audiences' eager faces, urging her to say something and decided to concentrate on one face. Jenny's! Her expression was always deadpan and the least distracting. 

Inhaling deeply, she let the words flow out. "I'm in love, " Claire blurted, regretting the outburst half a second later. 

Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ! Did I just say that! Too late Beauchamp...keep winging it!  It wasn't supposed to come out that way. Claire continued to grope in the dark for the speech she prepared, but the carefully memorised words remained elusive. She glanced quickly at Jamie. He was shaking his head with his eyes closed, a hand holding his forehead. He knew too that wasn't how it was supposed to come out.  Too late!

There was a hushed silence, as she refocused her attention on Jenny, whose face was slowly breaking into a smile and her head bobbing for Claire to continue while squeezing Ian's hand.

"Oh, that's lovely dear, " Ellen gushed, and in her periphery, Claire saw her foster mother lay both hands on her chest awaiting what her next words would be.

"Who's the lad?" Brian asked, seemingly unaffected by the announcement.

"Is it Frank?" Willie chimed in, a disappointment already forming his face.

Geillis didn't say a word. There was an irritating smug look on her face, and Claire knew, her friend was entertained by the whole scenario.

"I'm in love with one of my siblings."  Damn, damn, damn, it still came out wrong. Oh, fuck, never mind!  Indeed never mind...there it was now, out in the open. Claire let out a breath she'd been holding and waited. She saw Jenny's eyes widened, and Ian straightened up from his slumped position, while everyone remained hushed. She realised her gaze was still unwaveringly focused on Jenny.

It was Jenny who spoke first, her words coming out slow and careful. "Claire lass, ye're in love with me?"

Ellen gasped, and Jaime groaned.

Claire felt mortified at the misunderstanding. "Oh no, not you, Jenny! I do love you but no...oh God, not that way. Jesus! This is all coming out wrong, isn't it?"  Oh fuck!

"Claire, sweetheart which one of the lads?" Brian asked his voice steady and firm, seemingly the only one who understood the drift of what she was trying to say and understanding her discomfort.

Momentarily closing her eyes, she pointed a finger towards Jamie's direction, just like a child after being asked by a teacher who the culprit was.  Christ why couldn't I have just said his name...I'm such an idiot!  There was a long deafening silence, that seemed to go on forever. She hoped when she opened her eyes, they would all have disappeared. Unfortunately for her, when she did, they were all still there, their faces a picture of  awe?  That can't be, right? Not Willie's tone though.

"Jamie, what have ye done?" It was Willie, sounding displeased as if he had caught his younger brother doing something forbidden.

"What do you mean, what have I done?" Jamie retorted, a hint of annoyance in his voice.

Claire spun around to look at Willie, his face was full of accusation. Then it dawned on her what her older foster brother must have been thinking. It was blowing all across his features like a red flag. "For fuck sake, Willie...lay off Jamie, will you! He's done nothing wrong. If you must know, I've never been with a man...I'm a virgin!"  Oh sweet mother of God, too much information....why can't I fucking shut my mouth up.

"Ye are?" Jenny and Willie asked simultaneously, their eyes genuinely wide as saucers in disbelief.

In the background, she could hear Geillis trying to smother a giggle.  Damn her! She started all this with her French kiss lessons!

Claire didn't know whether to laugh or cry, but she could feel hysteria rising up from the pit of her guts. If she hadn't been in the middle of this shamble, she would have found the situation amusing. Unfortunately, she had created this for herself, and she wished the floor would open up and swallow her whole.

Before Claire could respond and say anything more, Jenny got up from her seat and squealed, hugging her tight. "Oh Claire, I've had my suspicions over the years, but I wasn't too sure. Ah ye wee dafty, is that why ye been acting funny these days?" And then she turned to Jamie. "Weel, lad...I suppose ye ken about this?"

It wasn't the reaction Claire was expecting. She looked at each of their faces staring at her. There was no look of disapproval nor reproach. Surprise yes and a hint of a smile from ma and da, while Willie's expression remained indiscernible as he looked on impassively.

Jamie nodded with a grin, winking at Claire. She could see the tension, had eased from his shoulders. "I have been in love with Claire for years, but I only told her yesterday," he confessed, the tips of his ears turning pink as everyone's attention turned to him.

"And I'm only hearing this now?" Willie asked his brother in a clipped voice, a frown marring his brow.

Claire glanced over at Willie to find him, what seemed like to her, scowling at Jamie. She thought this behaviour was odd as Willie was the most mild-mannered and least temperamental out of the three siblings.

"Ye were tae busy adulting, Willie...ye wanted nought to do with us children, in case ye've forgotten," Jamie pointed out, his lips twitching.

It was apparent to Claire that Jamie caught that funny tone on Willie's voice. Jamie had only told the truth as there was five years age gap between the brothers and growing up, Jamie was closer to Claire than he was with Willie and Jenny.

Her attention riveted to Ellen, as she stood up from her seat. Claire's heart skipping a beat, she waited with bated breath for what Ellen had to say. "Och, darling, my baby girl...come here." Claire blinked, as she was pulled into her arms, one hand stroking the back of her head. "Sweet, sweet, girl is in love with my boy."

Claire stifled a sob, as a wave of relief washed over her. Oh, how she had wanted their approval so much and now that she had it, she couldn't be any happier. She knew Jamie must feel the same way too. But the discussion was far from over as there was the case with Annalise to be told. She looked at Brian over Ellen's shoulder, who simply nodded and raised his tumbler of whisky as if to say, he was happy for them too. 

"Oh, God, ma...I thought you'd be mad."

"Mad?" Ellen appeared surprised. "Why should I be mad, darling? Love is something that comes to us all when we least expect it." Then Ellen leaned closer to her ears. "I'm just glad it was with ye Jamie has fallen in love with." 

She could hardly believe what Ellen was saying, as she stood there stupidly trying to take in all their reactions.

Claire was brought back from her thoughts when Brian brought their attention to him with a knuckle rap on the coffee table. "So, are we all done and sorted? Can I go now and watch the footie?" Everyone laughed. Brian didn't seem too bothered about Jamie and Claire's news, but he looked happy enough to ease Claire's worries.

"Er...da, we're not done yet. There's something else..." Jamie added quickly before everyone dispersed from the room.

"Aye, weel, get on with it, lad. I don't have all evening, ye ken."

The family remained seated as Jamie took Claire's place on the floor, explaining the situation with his ex-girlfriend. Although they felt sorry for Annalise's plight and didn't doubt Jamie's words when he said he doesn't think the baby she was carrying was his, the sad story was overshadowed by Claire's earlier confession. None of them had ever met Annalise; hence the lack of emotional connection. It was only Ellen who voiced her approval of what Jamie planned to do...the right thing.  Just in case...just in case the child Annalise is carrying is Jamie's and would be left orphaned if Annalise did die.

Claire looked around to ask Willie what he thought, but instead, she found an empty seat that he occupied earlier. She felt a tinge of sadness in her heart, as she wanted him badly to approve of her relationship with Jamie. 

...........

Later alone in her room, Claire let out a massive sigh of relief, but it was short-lived as her thoughts wandered back to reality. Jamie will be leaving for France in five days, to see another woman. His ex-girlfriend, no less. Oh God, for once, she wanted to be selfish, and she didn't want him to go. She looked at her reflection on the dressing table's mirror. Jesus, no wonder everyone... well almost everyone, can read her like an open book. Her expression was the epitome of conflicted.  No, stop it, Beauchamp, get a grip! He will be back before you know it.   She knew she will be busy enough once the hotel re-opens and hours will be rigorous to keep her mind preoccupied.

The door opened slowly, and Jamie let himself in. Claire had been expecting him after he gave her a nod earlier before she ran up the stairs. Their knack for understanding each other's unspoken communication had become finely honed over the years. 

Standing before her, Jamie's sheer size made her room suddenly seemed so small. He had always been a tall lad for his age while growing up, but over time, he had filled out too nicely. Having taken off his sweatshirt earlier, his grey top hugged tightly across the expanse of his muscular chest and taut washboard abs. Awareness crept over her, lifting goosebumps down the length of her arms, making her thighs feel like gelatin. Her breath hitched when he lifted her up from her dressing table seat and took her place, settling her on his lap with her legs, straddling his thighs. Her wrists locked automatically behind his neck.

He pressed his forehead against hers, a beautiful smile forming his lips. "How are ye, Sassenach? It wasna too bad earlier, was it?" he murmured, adjusting his hold to bring her closer against his chest.

She laughed if somewhat a wee bit shakily, his warm breath on her face doing wonders to her insides. "Not too bad? I thought you were dying a little out there, every time I opened my mouth to speak."

"Mmm, speaking of mouth, I thought the evening would never end. All I could think of is kissing you," came Jamie's low voice from her thick curls hanging around his shoulders. Claire could feel a finger tugging at a lone tendril. "This house has far too many people. How about we go to my house for a bit of privacy?"

Claire knew precisely what Jamie meant. In Frasers' household, nobody ever knocks on the door...they simply walked in. Although their secret wasn't secret anymore, she didn't want anyone walking on them while kissing. "Privacy to do what?" she teased, smiling against his lips as he brushed his mouth tantalisingly across hers.

"We can stay the night there. I have a mattress I use when working late in the house. We can carry it next to the fireplace, and we'll bring extra blankets and duvets." Mistaking her shudder for apprehension, he pulled away and looked directly into her eyes. "We're just going to cuddle, Sassenach and maybe talk a little. I want to spend a lot of time with ye before I go to France if that's alright?" His hands caressed her back and arms, his eyes, dark and intense, betraying how aware he was of her as she was of him.

"Of course Jamie, I would like that." She hardly heard her own voice when she replied as she felt a stirring coming to life inside of her. Yearning for something she couldn't verbalise, there was an unexpected awareness of emptiness in places she never knew, that she understood with sudden clarity, only Jamie could fill. "I'll just grab a few things. But before we go, I need to have a word with Willie," she croaked, her mouth suddenly feeling parched.

"Aye, do that, and I'll grab a few blankets and other things." He stood up, lifting Claire away from him, the gravelly tone of his voice revealing his effort of exercising control. "Don't take too long!" 

..........

Claire looked everywhere for Willie and finally found him sat outside on the doorstep, cradling an empty glass.

"Hey! There you are"

Willie looked up at her, scooting to the side so she can sit down. "Hey to ye too," he replied with a weak smile, dragging a hand through his hair.

"Want a top-up?" Claire showed a bottle of whisky she brought with her and took out her own glass from her jacket pocket. "It's cold out here, and I thought this should warm you up."

"Aye, thank ye." He watched as she poured the whisky. "Ye've developed quite a taste for excellent single malt over the years haven't ye?"

She laughed, raising the glass to him. "Does that mean, I'm officially a Scot?"

"Not quite. Ye still have that bloody posh English accent. I dinna ken how ye managed to hang on to it after all these years living here." When Claire didn't reply, he purposely bumped his shoulder against hers. "But ye ken, it doesnae matter if ye still carry the name Beauchamp...to me ye'll always be a Fraser."

Claire smiled, grateful that the frown on his face was gone. "Willie... I want to know if...if you disapprove of Jamie and me." She paused, taking a sip of her amber liquid. "You didn't look too happy in there earlier. And it's important to me that you don't hate me for it."

He laughed without humour as he took a sip of his own drink. "Ach, don't mind me, Claire. You know fine that I don't hate ye. I was probably just shocked. I dinna expect..." Willie swallowed hard. "I dinna expect ye and Jamie. I always thought ye were just a couple of kids beings kids. Don't worry about it."

"That's good. I'm glad..." Claire whispered. "Actually, I expected the shock reaction more from Jenny and ma and da...but, not from you."

Willie cocked an eyebrow, looking at her this time. "Aye? Really? Why is that?"

"I don't know. I guess maybe it's because you rarely told me off or disapproved any of my life decisions. And I've done a lot of crazy things in my travels that you knew about and ye were the only one that I managed not to shock. Remember when I did that bungee jump? Christ, I received a lot rollicking from everyone, especially ma and Jamie...but you...you thought it was bloody brave of me."

Willie laughed out loud, the sound of his laughter more sincere this time. "Aye, that was brave of ye. I've always admired yer passion for adventure. I like the fact that ye dae what ye love to dae..." He shook his head, smiling. "Are ye happy, Claire?"

"Yes...very happy but sad at the same time that Jamie will be leaving soon." Then remembering it was her idea to send Jamie to Annalise, she added with a slightly defensive tone, "But I know he'll be doing the right thing, right? What do you think?"

He sighed and opened his arms to give her a hug. Claire scooted nearer and laid her head on his shoulder, his arms going around her back. "I cannae answer that Claire, but If I was Jamie, I wouldn't even think of leaving ye," Willie whispered, his eyes faraway looking into the dark of the night.

"Sassenach, are ye ready?" Jamie asked softly as he stood in the doorway, looking down at them.

Willie and Claire hadn't heard Jamie approached nor the door opened. "Just give me a minute Jamie...I shan't be long," Claire replied, inclining her head towards him. Then she turned to Willie. "I'll see you tomorrow? Jamie is taking me to his house."

Willie nodded with a smile. "Aye, see ye tomorrow. And leave the whisky behind, please. I think I'll sit here for a while."

Claire handed the bottle to him. "Don't drink the whole bottle, alright? Leave some for tomorrow. And here..." Claire took the scarf from her neck and gave it to him. "Sit on this or else the steps will freeze your arse off."

Willie laughed, taking the bottle and her scarf off her hand. "Thanks...now go...Jamie is waiting."

She gave Willie a quick peck on the cheek before clambering up the stairs, her legs twinging with pins and needles. Glancing back at Willie, she noticed he had wrapped her scarf around his shoulders instead of laying it on the steps to sit on. She sighed as she hoped and prayed, in her heart of hearts, that sombre smile he had just given her wasn't any indication that he was displeased with his brother.

[ladyloveandjustice]

Spring 2018 Anime Overview: Cardcaptor Sakura Clear Card Arc (Episodes 14-22)

I enjoyed Cardcaptor Sakura Clear Card quite a bit. I would by no means call it a bad experience. But it’s impossible to deny it’s the weakest anime I watched this season. The series is underwhelming and flawed, even if parts of it warmed my heart and fed into my love of these characters. The plodding pacing, lack of payoff and disappointing elements were mostly worth it to me for the good parts, but this show really deserved to be so much better than it was. A lot of the problems I mentioned in my review of the first half not only remained, but worsened. There were definitely plenty of adorable moments, which you can see in my liveblog, but I can’t deny the show could have done so much more.

But we’ll start with things I enjoyed. I loved seeing Meiling again and her arc left me very satisfied. One thing I really love about magical girl shows is that they often have a far more complex and nuanced handling of the “romantic rival” girl character than other “more mature” media. They treat the girl in question more like an actual person than a catty stereotype and eventually the focus turns away from the guy and more towards girls building a positive relationship. 

And Meiling is a perfect example of that and I adore her. She started out seeming like a one-dimensional annoying clingy romantic rival character, but as the show went on, she gained more depth and formed really adorable relationships with Sakura and Tomoyo. Her pain, her struggles, her insecurities- they all became real to the viewer. The scene where she’s crying over Syaoran but admits that as much as it pisses her off, she can’t take out her pain on Sakura because she likes her too, is one of the most heart-wrenching in the show.

Meiling’s arc in Clear Card was the perfect cap on that. We finally got to see how Meiling and Sakura interact without the tension of Meiling’s crush on Syaoran in the picture. Her former crush on him wasn’t even mentioned once- they are entirely friends on their own terms. It was great to see how the relationship has so completely evolved. And it was also great to see Meiling and Syaoran interact without that baggage and it really bought home how much better the two of them understand each other now. Where Syaoran would unintentionally make Meiling feel like she was a useless burden to him before in the original series, here he goes out of his way to tell her that he appreciates her and that she shouldn’t feel like she contributes less due to her lack of magic.

 Meanwhile, Meiling was worried about him and since she was a family member, she was more aware of his mysterious struggles than anyone else. But she was not overly focused on him and was capable of giving him space. She was also much more confident around him and was able to roll her eyes at what a loser he was and tease him about it, something she really didn’t do before because she was too busy mooning over him, so it was very cathartic to see her do it here.

Seeing Sakura and Meiling have a proper team-up was fantastic too. I’m always down for the power of girls holding hands saving the day, but this was satisfying in other ways too! Meiling always had a lot of confidence issues about her lack of magic in comparison to the others, so seeing her straight up take charge in a fight and protect and guide Sakura was such a great thing for her character. The “twins” episode in the original anime had Meiling learn she was useful as a partner by teaming up with Syaoran, but here she learns she can even be a good leader if it comes down to it by taking charge with Sakura. Meiling’s arc really builds on what came before it in a positive and satisfying way, and was exactly the kind of thing I was hoping for when Clear Card was announced.

Seeing Meiling now being comfortable enough to be on a first name basis with Sakura was icing on the cake (not to mention a very shippy moment, considering it’s explicitly compared to Syaoran and Sakura’s relationship). This was the kind of relationship progression I wanted from Clear Card. And there were a few other moments that delivered that kind of satisfaction! Sakura’s dad’s conversation with Touya near the end, a short moment with Touya and Yue....

But that sadly wasn’t true for the majority of the series. Most of the season felt terribly stagnant and sloppily paced with the characters not progressing at all and a lot of build up with no pay-off. 

To make it clear, I don’t mind a slow burn- the original CCS definitely moved at a relaxed pace and had a heavy slice-of-life vibe. But the problem with Clear Card’s stalling plot was that it was contingent on a bunch of characters not talking with each other or interacting with each other and this was really what gutted the show for me. 

The original CCS definitely relied on “barriers to communication” as a device to pad the show, but not in a way that prevented the characters from getting good scenes. For instance, Touya being interrupted whenever he tried to tell Yukito the truth about himself in the third season of the original series was an overused and somewhat frustrating reoccuring deal, but it didn’t prevent Touya and Yukito from being involved in the plot or having (very gay) scenes together (in fact, it ensured they would). It was also at least a little bit amusing and had some variety- how’s Ruby Moon gonna interrupt them this time! And it made sense for the characters for the most part- Touya’s TRYING to do the logical thing, so we’re not frustrated with HIM, at least. And it made it incredibly satisfying when Touya finally snapped and told Ruby to go away, he’s talking with Yukito NO MATTER WHAT.

Compare the conflict this season where Touya’s got something going on with a new power but won’t tell Yukito about what it is (EVEN THOUGH HE’S THE ONE WHO BOUGHT IT UP TO HIM IN THE FIRST PLACE) because reasons. This means there’s only a couple scenes with them, they consist of Yukito being like “tell me” and Touya being like “nah”. There is no variety and the scenes make the viewer frustrated with Touya, it means we don’t see Touya and Yukito much because they’re not allowed to be involved in the plot yet and because we’re keeping up some manufactured tension between them for no reason. It had no payoff this season either, and I doubt when/if it DOES pay off we’ll feel satisfied- odds are it’ll just be like “okay so why didn’t you just tell him earlier?”

The way Touya and Yukito were underused here was really frustrating because 1. They’re great characters, 2. they’re one of the most iconic mlm couples in kids anime and 3. their relationship arc wasn’t really properly resolved with a confession scene in the last series, so one of the main reasons I’D do a sequel would be to resolve that, but apparently them not talking is more important.

And that’s not the only plotline of the sort in this season! There’s a similarly bad one with Syaoran. He’s keeping stuff something that involves Sakura secret from her and it does nothing but damage his character and presence in the show. It means he’s not around or talking to her as much, nor is he as expressive since he’s busy brooding about stuff. 

Honestly, the role of “mysterious secret keeper” just doesn’t fit Syaoran- with Touya, at least he’s been shown to be someone who keeps things to himself before. Syaoran, on the other hand, has always been ridiculously straightforward. As much as he tried to act tough, he was always unable to hide every single thought and emotion he had from being stunningly obvious to everyone but Sakura and got flustered CONSTANTLY, which was part of his charm as a character in the original series. It allowed him to be a very active and dynamic character too. Having him suddenly bottle everything up and be all mysterious just kills so much of what made him work. 

Though, to be fair, the show sort of acknowledges he’s unsuited for this role by showing even Sakura has noticed something’s up with him. But that just makes things MORE aggravating- in the last episodes she straight up says to him “I want you to talk to me” which should be the big moment where he realizes how wrong he’s been and tells her everything....but instead he just. doesn’t react. It’s INFURIATING.

And hey, third’s time the charm, we also have our antagonist, Kaito, doing some sketchy bullshit that his charge, Akiho, is completely unaware of (and when she does become aware, he TURNS BACK TIME to make her forget) so he can help her because reasons. Also, Eriol and Kero and Yue now know Sakura’s making cards appear on her own, but won’t tell her, because.

So in this season, here’s a real trend of guys refusing to communicate with and let girls in on things that DIRECTLY AFFECT THEM and denying them agency in regards to their OWN LIVES while insisting it’s “for their own good” and “to protect them” and I’m really! not about it! At this point, I am not confident the show will resolve it in a way that condemns this behavior enough. Why did we have to go here? I’ve seen this plotline SO many times and I am TIRED and I just want to see the characters be together and grow and learn and have fun.

And the lack of that is what makes the “filler” in Clear Card not work while the “filler” in the original show mostly worked for me. There were a variety of scenarios the original series would use to pad out the episode in the old series- a school play! a class trip! Syaoran and Sakura fight over Yukito! A test! Touya’s got a weird new job! They were reoccurring scenarios, but the type that offered variety and many types of character interactions. But with Clear Card the filler is much more limited -”let’s cook a thing and talk about it, let’s eat a thing and talk about it, let’s read an entire storybook that has nothing to do with the episode”. And that feels a lot less worthwhile, to say the least.

I said in my last review that it felt like the series was coasting on nostalgia and well, that still holds true. SO true there’s literally an episode called “Sakura’s Nostalgic Viewing Party” devoted to talking about the Sealed Card Movie. But as implied above, I don’t know if this show really gets what people loved about the old series totally. It copies things, sure. Like Sakura’s basically capturing the same cards over again! ...But this time the cards seem more like objects without personalities, and Sakura’s lack of concern for the cards she had before totally disappearing- which WERE sentient with personalities- is troubling, considering the original series focused on her being concerned for them and forming friendships with them. That whole issue kinda encapsulates the heart this series is missing compared to the original, and the important things its overlooking.

Which brings me to a big problem- there’s an disappointing lack of queerness in Clear Card. The original series was full of queer stuff and very accepting and positive about it as a narrative and it is beloved among queer viewers to this day for that...but, that was so absent in Clear Card. The closest we got to a direct discussion of Yukito and Touya’s relationship was in the prologue special- Yukito mentioned to Sakura about “when I told you I liked Touya” in the context of romance. So still canon, obviously. But Yukito and Touya are sidelined, as mentioned above, so really nothing else with them. Tomoyo is similarly out of focus, so nothing from her. Sakura and Syoaran are only focused on each other crush wise, so nothing for them either. I don’t think (or maybe I just hope) it was deliberate, but it’s still really disappointing. In 2018 they should be giving us MORE, not less.

And now we have to talk about the finale. What it was and what it...wasn’t. Basically, we find out Akiho is the mysterious person who’s been haunting Sakura’s dreams (something that even a five year old would have guessed by now)and she attacks her, Sakura is faced with this big revelations and is fighting....and then Kaito appears our of nowhere, freezes time, then rewinds everything so Sakura doesn’t remember and the fight never happened.

Yep. That was our final episode of the season. We get this big dramatic scene that FINALLY moves the narrative forward...then it is literally undone and rendered meaningless. It’s SO blatantly disrespectful to the audience it’s almost hilarious. I mean I wasn’t expecting much to be wrapped up, but talk about going above and beyond to flip off your viewers.

I always figured the reason for the poor pacing and anticlimactic ending of Clear Card was because it was spinning its wheels so it didn’t pass the manga (the solution to which would have been wait until the manga’s further along to make an anime, but WHATEVER)...but apparently the finale episode actually diverged pretty heavily from the manga.  (spoilers obvs). CLAMP is likely bringing a confusing Tsubasa crossover in the manga version, and the anime wisely decided to reject that.

But the thing is, if they were going to change such a major thing from the manga...why not just do their own thing with the anime from the beginning? Why drag everything out so the anime ended where the manga currently is if they were just gonna change that ending anyway? Why not just add their own stuff from the beginning? Why not end the season on a more satisfying note?

It’s a mystery for the ages.

Despite my LONG gripe session just now, while I was frustrated toward the end, I mostly found the anime pleasant to watch. There were a lot of nice moments despite all its flaws. And I love these characters so much that you know I’ll be right there if they release a movie or second season or whatever. 

But there’s a lot of wasted potential here and I hope the team behind this gets its shit together if they continue this. Like please. Let Touya and Yukito kiss. Let Tomoyo get a girlfriend. Let Sakura know what’s going on in her own life. If you just do that, I’ll never complain about anything related to CCS ever again. I swear.

[asoiafuniversity]

Below the cut is a panel discussion on the magical disability trope in fantasy and sci-fi. The discussion was taken from disabilityinkidlit.com.  The panelists are Kayla Whaley, Natasha Razi, and Corinne Duyvis. While this is a general discussion, it is relevant to A Song of Ice and Fire.

The final category we’re working with is “magic co-opts a disability and redefines it.” [...] this is where the narrative explains that magic is the root cause [...] For example, in real life, we may think that autism is a natural human variation; the story will explain that, actually, autistic people act differently because they were affected by something magical as a child [...]

Natasha: Regardless of the cause, these tropes usually start by depicting a character as disabled, and then reveal the magic after the fact, often as a “shocking twist” moment.

Kayla:  [...] they’re relying on assumptions that the (abled) audience is going to bring with them. Disability = magic. That’s one effect of these tropes being so widely used: audiences begin expecting it, so the author doesn’t even have to make it explicit.

Natasha: [...] it’s often about a character having ~mystical knowledge~ that they can usefully share with the protagonist.

Corinne: I feel like a lot of this might be writers seeing “strange” disability stuff and having their imaginations take over. Ohhh, interesting, how could I use this? Such a fascinating plot element! [...]

The “fascinating plot element” bit actually ties into one of the big things that annoys me about this trope. A lot of the time, it’s a huge plot device, and it’s kind of cheap. The magical person is disabled (and this goes particularly for “unreliable” neurodivergent people) because then you can make them completely overpowered. You’ll be able to use the ability when it’s convenient, but you don’t have to explain why the character doesn’t just wave their hands and fix it all. Because they’re disabled! They probably don’t even realize what’s going on, or have no clue how to access their abilities consciously. Gag. So it’s something that conveniently enables plot yet provides a convenient obstacle at the same time.

Natasha: I think that ties into the running issue of disabled characters being sidelined. Because these characters are often minor parts, their roles can be shrunk down to their disability and the related magic. Obviously this isn’t always the case, but I do think there’s a strong correlation between how minor the character is and how much they exist as a convenient plot device.

Corinne: Right. Who needs character arcs or development, right?

Kayla:  For sure. Having a disabled character be ​˜magical˜​ often reads as a justification of their very existence. Because what else could a disabled character possibly bring to the table? So they become objects, plot devices, obstacles, mysteries, etc.

Corinne: Justification sounds about right. And that’s sadly not too far from what we see in real life: If you’re going to be disabled, you’d better have some kind of amazing talent or be super amazing and saintly to make up for all the trouble you are. It’s got to be ��balanced out.”

Kayla:  And that’s where these tropes extend their reach into real life in horrifying ways. Disabled people—in fiction and outside of it—aren’t allowed to simply ​be​ disabled.

Natasha: “You’re depressed? You must be really artistic, right? You’re autistic? I bet you’re super organized and smart. You use a wheelchair? What an inspiration to us all!”

Kayla:  A family member once told me he thinks all people born with disabilities are also given “special gifts” to make up for it. Not exaggerating.

Corinne: Gross. I mean, I’m not surprised, but come on.

Kayla:  But to tie it back to these specific tropes, that what they ultimately say. That exact same thing.

Corinne: And I think that’s why it’s often harmful. If that’s the only context you see yourself in—a plot device, thinly developed, only tolerated or involved because of your useful magic … ouch.

[...] So how can it be used without being gross? [...]

Kayla:  I think it really all comes down to execution. What role does the character play in the narrative? Are they treated as a full character with an arc, development, etc.?

Natasha:  Also, it’s a matter of how the disability is treated—is it just there as a gotcha? Does it receive the same respect that we hope a real-life disability would receive?

Corinne: I think one of the things that bothers me personally is that, even when everything else is handled respectfully, and even if you have a pseudoscientific explanation, the idea of disability being inherently connected to magic can imply that all these disabled people work the same? This isn’t entirely related, but I remember that the third episode of the TV series Haven frustrated me immensely. To quote Wikipedia: there’s “an upheaval at the local psychiatric hospital involving something that causes the mad to become sane and vice versa.” Like it’s a switch you can flick on and off. But often disability is much more nuanced. It differs in symptoms, cause, severity, presentation.

Kayla:  Yep, and I think one of the easiest ways to avoid that particular trap is to have more than one disabled character. That way you can ​show​ variation and explore how the magic might affect different people (even with the same disability!) in different ways. And from a writing perspective, that’s likely going to lead to a richer story. [...]

Corinne: Right. I think the root of the disability matters in terms of representation and implications—if all your disability is caused by magic, what does that say about real-life disabled people? do they not exist? is disability only OK if it’s got a magical reason?—and that’s why we’re discussing these ways to avert it. 

[...] whether you’re using the experiences of marginalized people to be ~symbolic~  and ~allegorical~ or just because its practical/neat/dramatic for your story, you’re still ​using those experiences​ to serve your story. The least you can do is acknowledge and respect the people you’re drawing from, instead of just taking the juicy parts for your story and your privileged characters.

Kayla:  Which … just don’t. Please. Just don’t do that thing.

Corinne: [...] Can linking disability and magic instead just mean disabled people get to do/be something really cool in sci-fi for a change?

Kayla:  My immediate reaction is: but why can’t disabled people get to do something/be someone cool in SFF ​without being magical? Why aren’t they allowed to exist in those worlds and have those adventures unconditionally? If kids read these books and come away feeling empowered, then AWESOME. I always want disabled kids to feel that. But we should have ​more.​ What these tropes offer isn’t enough; it’s just all we’re used to getting.

Natasha: Yeah. Like, if a disabled person feels empowered by reading about a magical disability, it certainly isn’t my place to tell them they’re wrong, but I do think it’s significant that that’s all we get in terms of empowerment. [...] I really want more stories where characters are magical and disabled and these things are clearly unrelated.

Corinne: I’ve often seen people talk about superpowers like, “well, of course this blind character has visions/superhearing/etc., it’s a world with superpowers, should they just not get to play?? You’re the ableist one for suggesting disabled people shouldn’t be superheroes!” But, like, the blind character could have flight, superstrength, teleportation … ? There are tons of options that are in no way tied to blindness. I absolutely want disabled people to be part of these adventures and magic and get to do cool things But the execution just matters?

Corinne: [...] It feels quite disrespectful and further adds to disability as inexplicable, scary, fascinating, other. [...]

Natasha: I think that brings me to one of my biggest problems with the depictions of magical disability, and disability in general—it’s often intensely othering, either by implying that disability is ~different~ and ~mystical~, or by implying that disability has no place in this story, but centaurs do! [...] Also, please​ do not reduce your disabled character to a plot device. Don’t just have them exist to provide mystical information or a convenient deus ex machina [...] Give the character an arc, make them an actual character.

Kayla: Yes! Give them agency, a personality, an actual role in the story.

Corinne: In addition, there’s a difference between saying “they have this power because,” and creative use of an ability, like Toph using her earthbending as an assistive tool.

If your character or those around them perceive negative effects of magic as a real-life disability, do what you can to make clear to the reader that it’s not the case. Drop hints, try not to lead on disabled readers about potential rep.

Natasha: Be thoughtful. Be purposeful. Don’t just do the obvious, because the obvious usually reflects a hoard of internalized biases.

Corinne: Try to aim for unusual power combinations, ones we haven’t already seen a hundred times before and that don’t conveniently cancel out the disability. Deaf character with superspeed! Autistic character with ice powers! Witchy wheelchair user!

Kayla:  And recognize that, with as few portrayals as we get, every single one matters so very much. The choices you make as an author will have real-life consequences (positive and/or negative, depending) for your disabled readers [...] And understand that many of your disabled readers might come into your story wary. We’ve been hurt, erased, dehumanized, etc. time and time again.

Natasha: Also killed. Can’t forget killed.

Kayla:  I think what this all comes down to is recognizing what has come before, the problems with what’s come before, and being intentional about not adding to that. It comes down to questioning your own assumptions and reasons for writing this particular story.

It comes down to treating your disabled characters with the humanity that they (we) deserve.

[source]