#how am i supposed to not love him when he behaves like a fair maiden with a crush

[milkmynk]

Randomly remembering when Chu Wanning was about to pull on day-old socks before realising Mo Ran would be in attendance, and immediately U-turning to put on fresh socks

[daisiesandshakes]

Good day my dear and first of all, let me thank you and praise you for your beautiful HC! I really enjoyed reading each one of them, and I'm grateful to have your posts filling my dashboard!🥰

If I may leave a request in your ask box... I would like to have a HC reaction of Le Comte, Shakespeare, and Theodorus with MC who gets all nervous and anxious with getting skinship from them for the first time (but eventually can handle it in time).

Thank you beforehand and do take your time and no rushing things! Stay safe and have a nice day~! 🍀✨

Hi sweetheart!

I am so honored to have you in my ask box 💝 thousand thanks for your praise, I am so happy you liked my HC!

Sorry it took a few days to write yours, and I really, really hope you enjoy it!

Here you go:

Ikevamp reactions to a MC who is afraid with skinshipping (Shakespeare, Theodorus & le Comte)

Shakespeare

At their introducing to each other William notices the hesitation as he reaches for her hand to blow a kiss on it. Might this dazzling, little dove be scared? Immediatly he interrupts his action and only bows with a warm smile on his handsome face to comfort her.

Shakespeare can read people very well and recognizes instantly that she gets scared when someone touches her directly. Dealing with his own fear (he's afraid of the dark) he knows how hard it can be to live with anxiety.

"Feareth nothing mine own fair maiden, I wouldst nev'r toucheth thee without p'rmission."

Enchanted by her sweet personality he's very eager to please and comfort her. When she's in town William tries to join her as much as possible, always walking on the side where people could touch her by accident. He would offer his arm when she needs to secure her steps and walk in front of her when it's crowdy (while glaring daggers) to guide her safely through.

Searching for ways to know her better Will arranges many, long walks at the Seine and dinner at a restaurant at a late hour when it's less crowded, chatting with her for hours. Seeking for possibilities to create a pleasantly warm and welcomed atmosphere for her, he asks her also for dinner at his Villa, reading out his newest script and teaching her old english.

Soon after William invites her to his rehearsals (he instructed his troupe members to avoid touching her), hoping that his kind and open troupe makes her feel more safe with the time. And to his greatest pleasure it seems to work. Everyone treats her like a precious, lost little sister and she starts to lose her inner tension around them.

It begins with small gestures, like helping the troupe members getting dressed with their costumes, passing over the props without flinching when they accidently touch her.

One evening she tells William how much she enjoyed the day with a bright smile while she lays her hand on his for a second. "I am so joyous to heareth those honest w'rds from thy fair lips" He turns his face away from her, so she couldn't glimpse the suspicious glistening in his eyes.

The day the play should start an actress has an accident and is not able to take part. Although she's got only a short performance, it presents an important twist in the play. Shakespeare is desperate and about to cancel the whole play, but then...

"I could do her part." MC's voice is faint but firm. Shakespeare's eyes grow wide with surprise. "Art thee sure about yond?"

She plasters a confident smile on her face. "Yes, I saw the rehearsals so many times, I could speak all lines backwards" she giggles, "and there is only one line for myself, so..."

William closes the gap between them, gazing deep in her eyes, frowning.

"T's not the line yond conc'rns me, I am sure thou art able to mast'r t. But the act'r hast to holdeth thee in his arms and I wonneth't confronteth thee with aught yond maketh thee feel uncomfortable."

She swallows hard but replies: "I can do it. When the embrace is soft and he won't press my body against his... I should go along with it. You all worked so hard for it, to see the play cancelled would hurt me much more than his arms around my waist."

The actor appears next to them "Princess, I swear I'll only hold you with the wings of a butterfly!"

With a warm and lovingly glare Shakespeare whispers "So t shouldst beest as thee wisheth. Thee can't imagineth what t means to me yond thee art willing to confronteth thy fears f'r our success."

As the stage play ends the audiance gives standing ovations. After every actor and at least William bows to the public, he rushes backstage for laudatary words. Spotting her his expression lightens up even more "Mine own muse, thee madeth t! Thee enchant'd ev'ryone and hath brought us most wondrous success!" he declares smiling. Laughing joyfully she hurries towards him, throwing her arms around his shoulders and Shakespeare freezes. "I am so, so happy for you Will! Everything went smoothly! Listen to the applause, Will! It seems it won't end!" As she lifts her head to meet his gaze he takes her delicate hand softly into his, and suddenly she realizes that she hugged him without any hesitation.

"Thee not feareth mine own toucheth anym're, little turtledove?" he asks barely audible.

Lost for words she only shakes her head, thightening the grip around his shoulder. Leading her hand slowly up to his face, Will  watches her reactions closely, ready to stop at any second when her features show displeasure. But the radiant expression in her eyes and the smile on her lips stays, and he nuzzles his cheek into her palm with a sigh. Resting her cheek against his chest she clings to him and both close their eyes, enjoying this special moment, knowing there are a lot more waiting for them to explore.

Theodorus

At first he's just annoyed by the "new, helpless hondje" that stays with them at the mansion. But after a few days he learns from a conversation between Vincent and her that she loves art as much as he does, what awakens his interest. Paying more attention to her  now he feels attracted to her charming personality and repartee (mostly when it comes to repel Arthur's salacious remarks).

In one of those moments he notices her unusual pale face and the tension in her body, trying to keep a distance between her and Arthur. Although his "threatening words" and his advances are supposed to be merely a jest, she looks like a cornered animal. It clicks in his mind.

Pulling Arthur back at his collar he growls "That's quite enough, get your besotted mess off her. That little hondje will only bark for me." A bit confused and wide eyed Arthur leaves you both alone.

Theo sighs. "You can't bear the touch of someone, am I right?" She didn't expect that he of all residents would recognize it first and in her surprise she only nods. Theo buzzes "Then stay around me and Vincent, that should be safe for you. I'll talk to the others, there is no point in hiding your anxiety. You shouldn't look over your shoulder in fear like a scared, helpless puppy everytime someone gets close to you."

Theo talks to the other residents the same day (threatens Arthur to beat the sh*t out of him if he dares to come too close to her again). From now on everybody still treats her kind and caring, but keeping a respectful distance.

Taking her right away everywhere with him he makes sure no one touches her, even by accident. In crowded places people make quickly room for them only due to his intimidating, beaming glare, ready to spread some black eyes if somebody should be so stupid to lay their filthy fingers on her.

She asks him why he's doing all that for her but Theo only replies "You can't bear it to be touched, I can't bear to have a sad, whining puppy around me. That's all."

But she realizes real soon that he is a very caring and soft person despite his harsh words.

Taking King out for a walk - "Hondje come with me. You need some fresh air and King likes you, so he might behave a bit when you come with us."

"You don't think you could go to town shopping without me, don't you? You need someone to take you by your leash. I'll come with you. We need more sirup either."

Sharing the love for art he'll even invite her to join him in his search for new talented painters. The more time they spend together, the more she seems to lose her anxiety around him, feeling comfortable in his presence. One evening both strall down the Seine he calls her near "Look at this picture hondje!" He stands close to the canvas, his left hand stroking over the frame. She rushes over to his right side and leans in, her shoulder touching his chest. "This is beautiful, Theo!"

"Yes, it is..." he mumbles into her hair, not sure if he's still talking about the picture, inhaling her sweet scent.

After they both discovered this talented painter Theo invites her the next evening into his favorite bar to celebrate this occasion.

It only takes a few drinks (although the bartender had the instruction to water her drinks down) and she's already tipsy. "Oi, hondje! We should leave now, I don't want to carry you back to the mansion!" She only giggles at this imagination and to his surprise no snubbing remark follows. Leaving the bar she stumbles soon, losing her balance. "Watch out, hondje!" He grabs her by her arm before she could fall to the floor. "Ouh, I feel dizzy Theo... would you mind to take a rest at this bench over there?" Nodding he immediatly leads her over, not letting go of her arm. As they sit down next to each other he mumbles "I hope it was okay to hold you at your arm, but I was afraid..."

She cuts him off, giving him a sweet smile "Nah, it was okay Theo. And at least you didn't have to carry me. I am not that drunk..." suddenly a hickup interrupts her. "Oooh nooo..." she whines.

Theo bursts into laughing "I see..." after a second she joins into his laughter. When the last giggle fades, she closes her eyes, resting her head at his shoulder. "I feel so tired all of a sudden."

"Don't mind. You can rest here with me for a while if you need to." he replies with an unusual soft voice. Very slowly he puts his arm around her, in case she wants to raise an objection. "I am not scared of your touch anymore." She murmurs, "I have to admit I'm really enjoying this right now." her words are almost inaudible while she nuzzles her face at his chest. Theo freezes in disbelief, an unknown warmth spreads through his entire body and his heart feels like bursting, relieved that she can't see the heat in his cheeks. Listening to her steady breathing he knows she fell asleep and he kisses her temple ever so slightly "So I have to carry you nevertheless." he mumbles with a grin. In the future he'd make sure no one ever gets the opportunity to touch her. But from now on his actions comprises a further reason.

Le Comte

He's living for centuries now and is able to read in people's heart almost like in an open book. Le Comte recognizes her reserved way when it comes to physical touch immediatly and invites her to his room for a talk. After he gives her a graceful and encouraging smile she tells him hesitantly about her anxiety, feeling embarressed to tell him about her inner demons.

"Ma cherie, don't feel ashamed. There's no reason for that. I'll ensure that everyone in the mansion respects your fears. And please don't hesitate to talk to me about anything that might concern you. Anytime."

This day all residents have a personal conversation with Le Comte in his room.

He will buy her several pair of exclusive leather gloves, so it might be easier for her to get along with her fear to be touched at her hands.

Knowing that public and crowded places are going hand in hand with the fear of being touched by accident he makes sure that almost everything her heart desires would be delivered into the mansion. A few days after her arrival she stumbles over a bunch of new dresses in her room and quite surprised she asks him how he knows her dress size. With slight flushed cheeks and avoiding her gaze he answers that he only has a good eye. (Liar... he observes her so intensly he could tell how many eyelashes her left eye has even when Sebas would wake him up from his deepest slumber...)

He will gladly take every opportunity talking to her, hoping that knowing each other better will reduce her tension and anxiety. Treating her like a princess with the utmost respect and warmth, she begins to relax in his presence. Strolling with Comte through the garden, taking tea in the gazebo, chatting about nothing and everything. Everytime they spend time together the space between them seems to melt a bit more.  

Taking a walk early through the garden together became a morning routine in the meantime and today it's warm and the sky bright blue. Suddenly King rushes playful towards them and jumps on her, trying to lick over her face. Totally caught offguard she loses her balance and stumbles backwards but le Comte immediatly catches her at the waist. "King, come here you stubborn beast!" Theo yells but King is already rushing further into the mansion. Theo apologizes quickly to them as he runs after his dog. "Are you hurt, ma cherie?" Concern lies in St.Germain's glance and voice. She giggles. "No, I am fine. King is such a cute "beast". Thank you for catching me Comte." At this moment he realizes that his arms are still around her and with an almost inaudible sigh he pulls his hands off her waist. "I am so glad nothing happened to you, ma belle." Then it comes to his mind, that she didn't complain at his touch. She didn't even flinch... pure happiness spreads through every nerve of his body and with a joyful smile on his lips they continue their walk.

A week later the weather ist still nice and warm, so she decides to visit the market place in town, getting some fresh air and maybe some fruits. The market is almost over as she arrives and less crowded. With a happy smile she studies the remaining goods as a salesman appears directly in front of her, eager to sell her one of his scarves. "A little dove like you  should wear a scalf, the wind still can be chilly..." Smiling politely she refuses, but the seller doesn't give up. "Here, this one matches your beautiful eyes" he goes on, his hands almost around her neck with the scarf. She freezes in panic, her face pale with shock as suddenly someone appears behind her, grasping the sellers'hands, holding them away from her neck. "Sir, what do you think you are doing, to harry a young lady like this?" Comte pushes the hands of the seller with one arm away, his other arm already protective around her shaking form. The burning anger in his eyes makes the salesman flee in panic without another word. Comte's gaze softens instantly as his eyes roam over her body with utmost concern. "Cherie, did he hurt you?" Still shaking she replies sobbing "No... It was o- only ..I was only scared he would touch me." Without thinking his grip around her tightens but in the next moment he takes a step away with a flustered expression on his graceful features "I'm begging your pardon, ma cherie, I shouldn't ... It wasn't my intention to embrace you without permission."

Shaking her head softly she closes the gap and leans back into his arms, her voice faint and pleading "Don't worry Comte, I am not scared of your touch anymore. If you don't mind, would you hold me a bit longer? It makes me feel safe." Stunned by her words he softly put his arms around her, his heart swelling with affection. As she rests her cheek against his chest with a sigh he whispers "I would so anything for you, ma cherie. And to hold you in my arms is my greatest pleasure." Slowly she lifts her chin to meet shiny golden eyes, in their dephts swirling so much love, adoration and yearning it takes her breath away. She answers his unspoken question with a lovingly smile.

[hannidae]

The Value of Forgiveness

Why Reylo is one of the most valuable elements of Star Wars Mythology

And why Disney should not let Reylo end with The Rise of Skywalker if it wants to take the moral high ground.

As an American, I’d like to suggest that Americans have a lot to learn from Rey and Ben. Forgiveness, hope, and redemption, while recognized as nice ideas, are so often not given the deference they deserve. Instead, we’re so much more focused on the pursuit of justice and power, which reflected in film leads to resolutions like Kylo Ren’s/Ben Solo’s death. Or, in real life, leads to paradigms like those present in American criminal justice.

We are doing an unarguably terrible job with criminal justice and reform. We are not forgiving or empathetic as a society. Our justice systems cling to our grudges and desire for punishment when nothing good can come of it. I can only hope that we can recognize our faults, learn, and grow--with a little help from film and story-telling.

As does all good mythology, Star Wars presents morals. The intentions in the sequel trilogy are *ahem* perhaps less thoughtfully crafted than the previous trilogies, but there’s still something to be learned. In TRoS specifically, moral guidance is best sought in critically analyzing the filmmaker’s choices and identifying the fallacies presented. 

Enter Reylo, the age-old enemies-to-lovers archetype where a heroine and anti-hero restore justice and find happiness. TRoS did it, then killed Ben. Why? Because in the American mindset Ben did ‘horrible’ things, and he should recognize his failures and welcome his own death in order to preserve the ‘pure’ deserving soul, Rey. Criminals don’t deserve a redeemed life of happiness, according to the American creators.

I object.

Now, before I get into how wrong this is, here’s a shout out to all of the incredible works out there that have analyzed Reylo and all its glory and value. Here’s a wonderful masterpost by raven-maiden. 

The impact of Reylo in analyzing criminal justice

Our current criminal justice system, at least within the American cultural setting where Star Wars has been developed, is a self-defeating, myopic mess.

There is the profit-driven corporatization of its structures that ignore best treatment practices opportunities for convicts within the system. There is the systemic discrimination that plagues fair treatment of both individuals and groups in the criminal justice and judicial systems from beginning to end. There is the unwillingness and/or lack of resources in our criminal justice system to address and improve the mental health concerns and socio-economic disadvantages of its prisoners and, as a result, cultivate reformed behaviors and improved opportunities among people who have committed crimes. There is also the hypocritical tendency of the criminal justice system to bolster the privileged and penalize the disadvantaged.

Regardless of a person’s place in society, our criminal justice system is focused almost entirely on punishment and removal of people within society who have been convicted of crimes. This doesn’t fix anything. It either maintains or worsens the causes that encourage people to commit crimes. Additionally, our criminal justice system does very little to promote actual justice in the forms of restorative justice.  Generally, people who have committed crimes are not provided avenues that offer meaningful opportunities for reparation, or counseling to recognize and alleviate the social, economic, or physical issues that caused people to commit crimes in the first place. No one is born bad, or wants to be evil, except for perhaps psychopaths.  And it’s clear that Ben/Kylo is not a psychopath, despite of and evidenced by the crimes he has committed.

The Problem with Shunning Reylo or shunning criminals

Those who are Anti-Reylo are generally concerned about abuse, imbalances of power, and toxic behavior and relationships, which they associate with Kylo. I get it. None of those things should ever be tolerated, much less promoted. All people, including Antis, can be assumed to condemn at least most criminal behavior, like Kylo’s. However, the hitch is when people are not willing to tolerate and accept individuals who commit crimes into their communities or relationships ever again—like permitting Kylo to repent, atone, and have a romantic relationship with Rey.

Here’s my issue, many people, for the most part, are sufficiently intolerant to be willing to forgive a person who has committed certain crimes. Clearly, some crimes are beyond redemption. In the spectrum of the severity of crimes, what role does a line in the sand have in story telling? Where does society draw that line? Typically, once crossed the criminal cannot be redeemed. In this way of thinking, reformed behavior, with or without atonement or restitution, would be not be sufficient for welcoming a person who has committed certain crimes back into a community. Like Kylo. Now, it’s not that there shouldn’t be a line. But sometimes we draw that line sooner than we should, and we’re not helping anyone (ourselves included) when we do if forgiveness is never an option.

Just Kylo’s association with the First Order, who as an organization murdered multiple world populations, is past the line for a lot of people. For some, it might be his order to kill the villagers at the beginning of The Force Awakens. Or kidnapping Rey and pushing into her mind during the interrogation scene. Or calling her ‘nothing’ on the Supremacy. Whichever.

I’m not going further into that because for my argument I don’t consider him to have crossed the line, and most Reylos don’t either. Here’s why, and why it matters.

First, Star Wars is mythology. It’s about a god Force and space wizards with laser swords. It teaches values and morals through fantasy and fictional dramatization. It is meant to serve as symbolic guidelines, not hard rules for interpersonal relationships in daily life.

Second, someone argues that Kylo Ren/Ben Solo has irrevocably crossed that line, there is very little to learn or gain from his attributes, his experiences, or his sacrifices. There should always be something to learn. Some *may* be willing to forgive Ben. That forgiveness would have qualifications for the redemption such as certain acts of restorative justice or a sacrifice. But empathy here is limited, if not lacking. And to function as a healthy society, we need lots of empathy.

Third, while Kylo’s representation in the trilogy films is less dimensional that in the extended comics and novelizations, one can not argue that he was abused, neglected, and manipulated into the circumstances of his portrayal. He also was never given an opportunity to truly explain his justification for his actions or the conditions that led to his choices. 

Overall, I’m not interested in where that unredeemable line is for people who support his death, or what redemption might entail. It’s likely they would never be willing to support his reintegration into society/the light side or consider him an appropriate love interest for Rey. Thus, what matters about him only matters in how it reflects on the heroes to whom he is an enemy. That would make him a black hole. But he is an anti-hero, and an amazing opportunity for self-reflective growth. We all make mistakes; he is just an extreme example from whose mistakes we can learn from.

Why Rey’s forgiveness is a necessary component of functional criminal justice

I am interested in the value of forgiveness, and the role mythology has in teaching that value. I’m fascinated by Rey’s willingness to forgive Ben Solo, especially since he turns and supports her once he knows she would forgive and welcome him if he renounced the characteristics that make him a villain.

Society is never going to improve if we lock up our criminals and throw away the key. Or execute them.

Now, I’m not expertly qualified to summarize the fields of criminal psychology or criminology in relation to Kylo Ren. However, I do hope to take a stab at why his criminal behavior is relevant in a tale of forgiveness.

Crime is cyclical. There will always be more people committing more crimes, and people committing crimes over and over. Also, most people who commit crimes, if released, will not be persuaded by punishment alone to stop doing whatever they’re doing that is criminal. This is because, for the most part, people with a history of delinquency have already experienced enough suffering in some form to create the impression that criminal acts will help them avoid the suffering they fear. The most commonly imposed societal threats of repercussions to their behavior, such as imprisonment, would be less severe to them than the punishment though suffering they’re attempting to avoid.

Kylo was abandoned by his family and betrayed, almost murdered, by the Jedi. The supposed crime of associating with Snoke/the First Order initially provided him shelter from those who wronged him. Then, a means of recuperating the power he needed to survive. However, he continued to be abused, manipulated, and neglected. Thus, his crimes continued though which he sought escape of fear and suffering through the pursuit of power in order to provide the needs he was lacking.

The motivations that cause one to commit a crime are generally recognized as related to the absence of any of Maslow’s hierarchy of needs: physiological, safety, love/belonging, esteem, and self-actualization. Maslow, A.H. (1943). "A theory of human motivation". Psychological Review.

Maslow’s Pyramid 

Kylo suffered from an absence of up to four of those five levels of the pyramid.

Now, society will never improve if we believe all criminals are evil and will always be evil unless we scare them into being good. People who commit criminal acts typically act through fear due to lack of a need. Threatening people into behaving well is not going to take their initial fear away; threats don’t provide missing needs. However, it may foster in delinquents a sense of desperate hopelessness, which would only cyclically perpetuate the conditions cultivating their criminality.

For most of the Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, no one criticizing Kylo’s esteemed role in the First Order is going to convince him to abandon the people who have welcomed, protected, and admired him in order to return to the ‘murderers, traitors, and thieves [Rey] calls friends.’ Not until Rey offers him a place by her side and an opportunity to make things right.

Trust, counseling, and pathways that allow people to meaningfully reenter society into a safe place through proof of intention by reparation, are the conditions through which criminals most effectively break out of the cycle.

We should be providing people who have committed a criminal act with:

1) the security of a route to acquiring their missing needs; 2) the confidence and recovery to be gained through restorative justice; and 3) a safe place to re-enter society. If we want delinquents to go from inclined to commit a crime, to not, then society must give people with criminal pasts a means to reform. To redemption.

That requires forgiveness.

Rey offered these things to Ben. She wasn’t willing to take him as he was in The Last Jedi as Kylo Ren. But she was willing to help him meet the needs he was missing: safety, love and belonging, esteem, and self-actualization. And if he turned, which provided him a pathway to meeting those needs when the dark side and First Order would not (despite his hopes), then she would take his hand. Ben’s hand.

Rey’s forgiveness of Kylo would provide a necessary step in the path to him becoming a better person. To reform. To become a hero that the galaxy desperately needed.

In the Rise of Skywalker, perhaps Rey didn’t need him to defeat the Emperor. She might have done it on her own. But she likely wouldn’t have survived if she did. And then the Jedi, the light side, peacekeepers who attempt to maintain balance in the world where the dark doesn’t over take the light, would have disappeared.

Ben’s turn, his choice to change, is what all people who have committed crimes should be permitted. But Rey’s forgiveness, and empathy before that, is a necessary part of Ben’s redemption. Why change criminal behavior, if it is somehow necessary to survive meaningfully, for nothing? Because it’s the right thing to do? That’s not how we work, fundamentally. We’re not angels.

It’s time to say it:

To err is human, to forgive, divine. -Alexander Pope

Rey’s compassion and empathy for Kylo, and her subsequent forgiveness, to me, is the most important thing to come out of Star Wars. Her willingness to respect and admire a person for who they are, despite a dichotomy, despite a criminal history, is a lesson we urgently need today.

Rey learned this herself, which is perhaps the best story telling choice in TRoS. After she stabbed then healed Ben on Ker Bir, she never again chose to engage in attack. She only saved what she loved. She never again used her lightsaber for assault, only deflection. With her potential for mercy, she convinced Kylo to turn. With only self-defense, she defeated the true threat to the Galaxy, the Emperor. The psychopath.

Retaliatory violence would have only made her become part of the cycle of evil. As our criminal justice system does.

Rey and Kylo teach us empathy. They teach us to be better.

Ancestral archetypes embodied through Reylo, and how they’re wasted

If Ben had lived to atone fully, apart from helping Rey free the galaxy of the true source of evil in fascist totalitarianism, Palpatine, he would have lived to cherish and reward Rey for her empathy through their relationship. The ‘dyad in the Force’ that connects Rey and Ben is related to the long-standing concept of dyads representing two parts of one soul, or soulmates that come together to protect humanity.

Dyads have been seen throughout the history of Western philosophy and literature and have played a role in archetypes as discussed by well-recognized voices including Carl Jung, Joseph Campbell, and Plato. These archetypes, dyads included, have ­­been seen as ‘universal, archaic patterns and images that derive from the collective unconsciousness and are the physic counterpart of instinct.’ They serve to inform and instruct, to help us digest our psychologies and nurture our societies. We’ve seen this dyad in many forms, including that described by Carl Jung as the anima and the animus, and reflected around the world in various cultures and spiritualities including Adam and Eve, Yin and Yang, etc. Essentially, a dyad represents balance. Through Ben and Rey’s archetypal dyad, we can learn so much on why to reform our criminal justice system and mindset. And this is not a new thing.

Behold, Plato’s Androgyne.

"The man was originally the child of the Sun, and the man-woman of the Moon, which is made up of sun and earth, and they were all round and moved round and round like their parents. Terrible was their might and strength, and the thoughts of their hearts were great, and they dared to scale the heavens, and they made an attack on the Gods.”

Connecting this to Star Wars, as perhaps (we could only hope the writers considered, or through the pervasiveness of Jungian’s theories of archetypes we can assume was inadvertently manifested) we see representations as both Rey and the light side (or also the Sith due to her parentage being of the darkness/the Moon), and Kylo, as the dark side (but also of the Rebellion/Resistance due to his parentage). Either way, there’s so many ways to relate this. Regardless, Rey’s and Kylo’s ancestral battles are embodied through the balancing of the light and dark sides of the Force. "The Gods took council and Zeus discovered a way to humble their pride and improve their manners. They would continue to exist, but he cut them in two like a sorb-apple which is halved for pickling.”

Assuming the Gods and Zeus are expressed in the Force, here is where Rey and Kylo are separated from their families and tread their separate ways into the light and dark respectively. The same can be said for the Jedi and the Sith. "After the division, the two parts of man (the Androgyne), each desiring his other half, came together and throwing their arms around one another, entwined in mutual embraces, longing to grow into one; they were on the point of dying from hunger and self-neglect because they did not like to do anything apart; and when one of the halves died and the other survived, the survivor sought another mate, man or woman, as we call them--being the sections of entire men or women--and clung to that. “

Now, because it’s clear that Kylo and Rey are obvs meant to be together, I’m going to connect the Androgyne to the Sith and the Jedi. "They were being destroyed when Zeus, in pity of them, invented a new plan. He turned the parts of generation round to the front, for this had not always been their position, and they sowed the seed no longer as hitherto like grasshoppers, in the ground, but in one another; and after the transposition the male generated in the female in order that by mutual embraces of man and woman they might breed and the race might continue; or if man came to man they might be satisfied, and rest, and go their ways to the business of life: so ancient is the desire of one another which is implanted within us, reuniting our original nature, making one of two, and healing the state of man.

Here the Force is Zeus, and the “seed [that is the] male generated in the female” is the birth of Rey. And through ‘the mutual embraces of man and woman’ Rey and Kylo, turned Ben, they ‘breed and the race might continue…reuniting our original nature, making one of two, and healing the state of man.”

Plato. "The Symposium". Benjamin Jowet, trans., Great Books of the Western World

Thus, the value of Reylo.

Through recognition of: 1) the unintended flaws in our humanity need-based motivations for crime; 2) the cyclical nature of crime within our psychology and society; 3) the requirement for forgiveness, support, and acceptance to stop that cycle; 4) and the requirement for man and woman to come together to create new life;

we find that the pairing of our Heroine and our Anti-hero, and the forgiveness and compassion of Rey, serves to restore the balance and heal the wounds in our story.

However, the filmmaking choice to kill Ben, even if in self-sacrifice, is characteristic of society’s unwillingness to tolerate a criminal’s reintegration into society. Despite this, even I started out after the film thinking, “they couldn’t let Ben live. Not for Rey to reach her full potential as a Jedi. He’d drag her down.” Would that necessarily be the case? No. End of discussion.

Thus, Rey’s forgiveness and compassion are devalued and defeated with Ben’s death. There is no hope for those who have been neglected, manipulated, and abused into committing crimes, and our Heroine is left without her soulmate amidst a society that cannot relate to her. With our need for ostracism and retribution, despite the inherent suffering of our repentant villains, we only subtract from the light in society, not add to it. And we’re back where we started.

So. In conclusion, Rey and Ben’s story cannot stop here. Looking at you, DLF. Fix it.

[toushindai]

again to fly away

Post-epilogue, 1.9k. Even the summary is a bit spoilery, so that’s below the cut.

[ Read on AO3 ]

Nyx gives Persephone a gift before she returns to her mother.

(“Well, with your family, one learns to take precautions.”)

x

Persephone is dressed not in her regalia but in a simpler gown when she pokes her head around Nyx’s corner.

“I’m going to spend a little time in the garden, Nyx. Would you care to join me?”

Nyx looks down at her own midnight robes. “Should I change first?” she asks, sincerely unsure.

“No need! I just wanted to look over everything before I prepare to leave.”

That does not seem to be the entire purpose behind her invitation; usually, she tends to the garden on her own, or with Hades’ help, and Nyx notices that she offered her invitation only minutes after Zagreus’s latest departure. But, if there is something her Queen wishes to discuss in private, then Nyx will gladly oblige. And besides, any time spent with Persephone is a treasure.

So she follows Persephone outside, floating effortlessly behind her as the younger goddess waters the hedges. “Those flowers you keep in your little corner,” Persephone says, “Hades tells me they were a gift from Zagreus?”

“They were.” Nyx smiles, a bit wistfully. “He commissioned them without warning, one night when I was attending to other business, and they startled me when I returned, but they made me think of you. They have brought me more joy than I foresaw.”

“They’re beautiful.”

“They are.”

“You’ve raised him to be so thoughtful, Nyx. I can’t thank you enough.”

“Mm.” Nyx thinks of the young prince. “I do not believe that I am solely to thank for his upbringing. Achilles has shaped him as well, and his father, in his own way. And while I may take some credit for his thoughtfulness, that cannot be fully conflated with his kindness.” She averts her gaze, cupping a pomegranate blossom in her hand. “You know well that I have struggled, in the past, to demonstrate such kindness; to empathize before I think of practical matters. In this regard, I have tried to learn from you, and to treat both the prince and others under my care with tenderness when it is appropriate. But I am not sure that I am the reason that Zagreus learned such an instinctive kindness as he shows to all those he meets.”

“Nyx.” Persephone draws near and takes Nyx by the elbow, looking up into her face. “You have always been so kind to me.”

“Not always,” Nyx disagrees. When the Fates first brought Hades to this realm, her realm; when Zeus, shortly thereafter, deposited Persephone here and the tendrils of light and life that the younger woman inevitably carried with her infiltrated Nyx’s carefully cultivated darkness, upsetting the balance that she had been fighting so hard to maintain—Nyx had been curt, then, and unwelcoming, injured by the implication that her control (already costing her everything) was not enough. If Hades had not been so gruffly dutiful and Persephone so patient and willing to listen, there might have been a clash that tore the Underworld in two. But Nyx is at least observant, and unlike Chaos at their distant remove she has learned to respond to the world around her. Hades and Persephone had helped to shape the Underworld into something that could be controlled. And from the two of them, Nyx learned a little more about interaction, about the subtle skill it takes for a being to exist alongside another being.

Now, tenderly, she touches Persephone’s face. “I know that I was part of what made your adjustment to the Underworld so difficult the first time, my Persephone. I only hope that this time, I have not repeated my old mistakes.”

But Persephone cups her hand over Nyx’s, smiling ruefully. “You haven’t, Nyx, not at all! You’ve been more welcoming than I can say, and you know that I missed you. Our early difficulties, you had already made up for a thousand times by the time I left.”

The Queen’s eyes are honest. Nyx lets herself trust them. “Then, good.”

“Then, good, indeed!” Persephone gives her hand a little squeeze. “Don’t worry so much about ancient history, all right, Nyx? We’ve all changed. I’m not that impulsive young woman anymore, either.”

“No, you aren’t,” Nyx agrees.

“Exactly.” Persephone turns back to her flowers, but he does not release Nyx’s hand; Nyx trails obligingly after her to observe what Persephone is observing. She half-expects the Queen to explain some detail of care for the plants, some task she would like Nyx to perform in her absence. But, instead, a hint of seriousness comes into her voice. “Speaking of impulsivity…. Well, perhaps that isn’t a fair transition. Nyx, I wanted to ask you, what was Zagreus like as a child?”

Nyx looks at her in confusion. “Zagreus, as a child?”

“Yes.” Persephone’s face is as serious as her voice. “I will confess, I am asking with an ulterior motive. Supposing Mother should inquire about her grandson, I don’t want her to catch on that I wasn’t around for his upbringing.”

Nyx feels a pulse of fear, and conceals it. “Ah. You are clever to think ahead of such a possibility,” she says, and Persephone winces in answer. “Do you think that Goddess Demeter would try deliberately to entrap you thus?”

Persephone gives a wry smile. “She may. She used to do so when I was young, catching me in little lies about whether I had spent the night obediently in my bed or gone out running through the fields. Maybe it’s silly, to worry about such things like I’m still a child, but…”

“You know your mother best, my Queen. If this is a concern you have, then I will do all I can to alleviate it. Including telling you stories of Zagreus’s younger days.”

“Thank you, Nyx.”

Nyx hesitates, though, because telling stories cannot be all that she can do. She enfolds Persephone’s hand between both of her own and looks seriously at the goddess of verdure. “To tell the truth, I would prefer not to have to send you back to your mother.”

Persephone looks back solemnly. “I know,” she says. “Hades has said the same, and I know Zagreus is thinking it, too. And I… I don’t mind the idea of reconciling to Mother, but I wish I felt that I had a little more choice in the matter. If she were not holding the mortal world hostage, if Hades didn’t fear that she would start a war over me… well, it’s funny, but I think I’d be more willing to visit her, if that were the case. But I must go. This all started because I seized an opportunity to run away from my problems, and it’s spun out of control for long enough.”

“I understand.” She does not like it, but she understands. “Will you forgive me if I send something along with you, to keep you company and keep you safe?”

A smile comes back to Persephone’s face. “There would be nothing to forgive, Nyx! I would treasure something to remember you by. As for keeping me safe, well… I know what my family is like. We can’t be too careful.”

“Then give me three nights before you depart, and I shall have something for you. But for now…” She draws Persephone over to the bench at the edge of the garden, and they sit down together. “Let me tell you of your son’s youth. There is much to tell, for Prince Zagreus was not always as well-behaved as he is nowadays…”

*

Busy though the Underworld is, it does not take Nyx the full three nights she requested to fashion her gift for Persephone. She lets the time pass, anyway; darkness seeps into the gift, strengthening its power and Nyx’s connection to it. But she cannot force Persephone to tarry for too long. When the fourth day dawns—after Persephone has said her good-byes to her son and seen him off on another escape attempt—Nyx pulls her aside and places the newest Chthonic Companion into her outstretched hands.

Surprise crosses Persephone’s face as she sees what it is. “A Chthonic Companion, for me? Don’t you think I’m a little old for this?” For a moment, there is severity in her face, and Nyx wonders if she has misstepped, making a stuffed animal for the woman who rejected the name maiden. But then Persephone breaks out into a warm smile. “I’m only joking. It’s adorable, Nyx. It’s a swallow, isn’t it?”

“It is.” A bird whose arrival in the land of Greece above foretells spring. The Companion is made in a red and black that recalls the Queen’s regalia, with a pale wheat-colored belly that matches her hair. Nyx selected the emeralds carefully to reflect Persephone’s beautiful green eyes.

Persephone cups the swallow in her hand, turning it this way and that to admire it. “I always loved swallows. Mother taught me to watch for them when the winter grew too long to bear. I love it, Nyx, thank you. Does she have a name yet? A fable?”

“Not yet.”

“Is it all right if I come up with all of that?”

Nyx smiles. “I would be honored.”

“Then when I am lonely for the Underworld and missing you, I will tell myself stories of how Mother Night fits into this little one’s life.” She presses the Companion to her chest and then tucks it into the top of her bag.

Nyx takes her hands and draws her closer to the wall, speaking quietly. “It is not only a keepsake to remind you of me, my Queen. Should you ever feel that you are in danger there on Olympus—”

“I know,” Persephone says. “Zagreus has told me all about how they work when he carries them through his father’s realm. Are you promising to burst into the light in my defense, should my mother and all the rest not treat me with all the respect I deserve?”

“Yes, I am.”

Persephone speaks lightly, but Nyx does not. She did not realize it until the Queen returned to the Underworld, but the truth is that Night Incarnate would gladly start a new war and end it in the same moment if that was what it took to keep Persephone safe.

Seeing the sincerity in Nyx’s eyes, Persephone falters for a moment. Then she squeezes Nyx’s hands tightly. “Let us hope that things do not come to that,” she says.

“I will always hope the same, Persephone.”

And then Persephone releases her hands in order to throw her arms around Nyx. Nyx is startled for a moment—she fears for the propriety of such an embrace here in the formality of the House—but when Persephone does not release her, she returns the gesture, holding Persephone’s head close to her breast. “I will miss you,” she confesses.

“I’ll miss you too, Nyx. You’ll write, won’t you? All the time?”

“Of course I will.”

“I will, too. We’ll give Hermes quite a workout, ferrying our letters back and forth.”

“I am sure he will appreciate the opportunity.”

They stay like that a moment longer, until some deep part of Nyx feels something slip ever so slightly out of balance. “You must not keep Charon waiting any longer, my Queen,” she says.

Persephone sighs. “You’re right, of course. Then I’ll go. But I’ll be back this time, Nyx. I swear it.”

“We will all look forward to your return.”

“I will as well. Farewell, Nyx. None of you may forget how much I love you all, you understand? I forbid it.”

Nyx answers with a half-bow, and Persephone leaves through the garden, turning once to make her swallow’s wing wave one last good-bye. And then, as Charon ferries her away, Nyx watches the golden thread of her existence wind its way all the way up to the surface and into the blinding light.

[merryfortune]

Wind-Up Toy

Fandom: Yu-Gi-Oh! Vrains

Ship: Yusaku/Jin

Word Count: 1.7k

Warnings: Angst, Canon-Typical Depictions of Trauma, Bad Ending AU

Synopsis: Playmaker loses to Lightning and Lightning erases him. The consequences are unforeseen.

  Playmaker – no, Yusaku – opened his eyes.

  He was alive. But he didn’t feel it. He didn’t feel dead either and he thought that he was quite accustomed to such a feeling, but this wasn’t it either. He wasn’t breathing. He wasn’t blinking, and he couldn’t feel his fingers.

  But he could still see. He could still think and articulate thoughts. He couldn’t speak them. He tried to move his head, so he could gauge his surroundings better but alas, he was robbed of such a privilege in this state. Whatever that state may be. So, he had to understand from what he could see and from what he could see, he could not understand.

  It was white. Pure white. A brilliant and blinding white which was harsh on the eyes, but he couldn’t squint so he could fair it better. He didn’t know where he was, but he was on the floor. He felt like he was sitting, legs sprawled apart and arms by his side; like a porcelain doll on a shelf.

  He sifted through his memories and immediately, a great sorrow pierced his heart like the edge of a blade. A specific blade. Yusaku could vividly recall the blade which had hurt him. It had belonged to Armatos Legio Legatus Legionis, Lightning’s ace monster and the realisation caused him to crash.

  His mind blanked. His eyes widened but he couldn’t move. He couldn’t writhe in pain as phantom electricity bolted through his body, through his veins and he couldn’t stop it. He couldn’t rationalise it as the echoes of memories from a decade past. They felt fresh and real, even though he knew otherwise but he couldn’t bring his body to behave as such.

  Yusaku wanted so dearly and desperately to open his mouth and scream in agony but he couldn’t. His suffering was all contained to the realm of his mind and behind closed lips in an unbreathing body.

  He was supposed to be dead. That wasn’t even a hyperbole borne of his trauma. That was a fact. Lightning was supposed to have killed him because he had lost the duel. Yusaku’s mind flashed to the thoughts of his comrades – Soulburner, Blue Maiden, Ghost Girl, Ai, Flame, Aqua, Kusanagi – where were they?

  Were they…?

  Yusaku could not bring himself to think such thoughts. They choked out before they could even finish themselves. He could feel his eyes brimming with tears – hot, sorrowful – and yet he could not cry. They wouldn’t well up and streak down his unfeeling face. Instead, he had to stew with these emotions so desperate to escape him.

  “Oh? You’re awake. Good.”

  A cold voice pierced the room and in a blink of yellow light, Jin appeared before him and his arm bore Lightning. He stood tall and arrogant despite his diminutive size and cartoonish appearance as an Ignis. As they approached, the whiteness which had encapsulated him dropped. Like a curtain, unveiling a façade and Yusaku was shown the truth of where he was. Lightning’s hideout. The castle. His chest tightened as he realised what he was. Captured. A prisoner of war.

  “I have decided that I have use for the Origins… well, most of them. With Earth dead, I see no use in collecting his – not to mention, his happens to be allied with the Knights of Hanoi and that does not suit me.” Lightning said.

  Yusaku listened. His eyes sharp and he tried to project all his scathing hatred outwards. He intended to externalise all the rage inside of him, but his expression was emotionless. His mouth was stern and his brow level.

  “I have decided that in order to have the rest of the Ignis oblige my will, I will use their Origins as a bargaining chip. After all, Ai, Flame, Aqua are… unnaturally attached to theirs. I don’t understand; they want to be together forever, and I am providing a method to such a goal, and yet? They reject me.”

  Yusaku wanted to cry out. He wanted to ask questions and make his voice known but he possessed no such ability within him. And he was drawing closer and closer to the void that Jin was no doubt within. After all, this was the torment he was enduring and had endured for so long. He wished he could have done things quicker or better, but he couldn’t see any hope in hindsight.

  “You know, I see point in collecting remnants of the past.” Lightning mused. “Perhaps this solution to that problem is better. After all, when humans are annihilated, we ought to honour the six who had birthed us. Doctor Kogami may have created us but you… our Origins… are so much truer than he as our creator.”

  Lightning paused and stared up at Jin. His eyes squinted.

  “He’s happy, you know.” Lightning commented. “He’s happy to be my servant. This is an increase of quality of life for him, actually. No pain, no memories, no obligation to reply to questions which regardless of intention, however good, were always rhetorical, no annoyances from the uncaring, outside world – he’s truly at peace.”

  Yusaku, again, wanted to scream out. That had to be wrong. That was Kusanagi that Lightning was talking about. He had no doubt in his mind that Lightning was turning implications unto Kusanagi, Jin’s kind older brother who had taken him in as well. Those had to be lies. Surely Jin, who Kusanagi described as sweet and gentle, did not hold such cruel despair in his heart that he would forsake even his brother who had laboured to give him as much love as he could in the aftermath of the Lost Incident and wanted nothing more than to see him heal?

  His eyes watered, and his mouth was dry. His throat was hoarse and yet, the rest of him was so unfeeling and uncaring and numb that Yusaku could barely feel like he was attached to a body at all. His heart wrenched.

  “And he is even happier now that he can have a human companion in his bliss.” Lightning continued.

  Yusaku’s head reeled. Human companion? Bliss?

  “He gets lonely with just us and the other AIs. But, make no mistake, my choice of collecting you, Origin of the Dark Ignis, and the others is not for affection for my own Origin. It is a benefit, perhaps, but not an intention.” Lightning said.

  Lightning stepped off of Jin’s Duel Disc. He then walked, unnaturally so, up Jin’s arm and at angles which were impossible. He was eerie in his movements, however fine-tuned and straight-backed they were. He arrived upon Jin’s shoulder and looked away.

  “Unfortunately, I must keep you two here. I have other arrangements that need to be made.” Lightning said, and he snapped his fingers.

  In a dash of light, Bohman and Haru made themselves known.

  “Bohman, Haru? I will accompany you both without Jin. I need to wean myself of these humans lest I become too reliant on them, but I have tasks for you both and we have inspections that need to be made.”

  “Understood.” Haru chirruped.

  Bohman nodded. He silently offered his arm and Lightning made the switch. He found a new podium upon Bohman’s Duel Disc and from there, he would lord over his precious humans in his collection. Haru glanced over his shoulder at Yusaku and smiled an insidious smile before he, and the others, pardoned themselves and left in another brink of light.

  Yusaku feared that the world would become white again, but it did not. Instead, he was still left on the floor and with Jin who staggered towards him. His movements weren’t as controlled now that Lighting had left him. It was like watching a wind-up toy take jagged steps towards him and eventually, he had no energy left. He crashed onto Yusaku. It was as though he were unable to maintain his own weight upon his feet.

  He went head first against Yusaku and both of them moved. Not in pain, just in physics. Inertia. Jin’s movements were like a crash-test dummy in real time. Yusaku was just reacting as his body was pushed by outside forces. They became entwined. Almost in farce of an embrace. And Yusaku’s head was pushed downwards by what remained of the force Jin had enacted upon him and he looked down on Jin.

  His hand was on his chest. His eyes were closed, like he was sleeping, and there was a faint expression. He looked like he was content. The slightest curve upon his otherwise straight lips. Maybe it was true…? What if it was true…?

  Was it possible that at least some of this was Jin’s doing? That perhaps he was not the bastion of innocence that Kusanagi, and Yusaku, thought he was. That perhaps he wanted to live like a toy on the ground, played with and made to be played with by others. The thought sickened Yusaku from deep within his soul, as clipped and clamped as it had become in the wake of his loss to Lightning.

  Yusaku begged and pleaded that it wasn’t true. This wasn’t how he wanted to live. This wasn’t how he wanted Jin to live. If this could be living at all. They were just members of a collection – others to come – and so much of them had been erased. He wished he could feel his heart beat once more in chest. He wished that he could feel again with his hands.

  And then Yusaku noticed what he was wearing. Jin obscured most of it, but he could still see the fabric beneath him. Yusaku was still wearing his Playmaker catsuit, but it had been changed severely. The colours to the white, violet, and yellow and motifs added: the four-pointed spark. Lightning’s insignia.

  Thus, he really was just another thing to be collected. Another toy or doll to be had for Lightning to use and abuse whilst Jin preciously watched on, possibly approving of it all in his empty head. And, Yusaku feared, it would be like that for all eternity since he was a prisoner of artificial intelligence: the inheritor of the world.