Tumgik
#have i overlooked a meaning of philia ??
transbutchblues · 11 months
Text
i just lost a point on my philosophy test because i said φιλία means friendship and the teacher wanted us to say it meant reception/hospitality ?? that’s ζένια wtf. yes they’re linked because strangers/xenoi need to be considered and welcomed as friends/philioi but still. am i wrong or is she just weird
2 notes · View notes
anowamij · 2 years
Text
WARNING
WARNING
All the content I have written on this tumblr is for entertainment purposes and I do not recommend you to read it if it is about a subject that you are uncomfortable with. I do my writings in general with physical and birth chart reading, there is no certainty. (Birth chart reading is a very detailed subject and may be a sign that everyone overlooks, if you noticed this in my readings, please feel free to comment and correct me)
Dacryphilia (also known as dacrylagnia) is a form of paraphilia in which one is aroused by tears or sobbing. The term comes from the Greek words dacry- meaning "tears", and philia meaning "love".  
This was a request by; @whatudowhennooneseesyou ty sm for request <3  
Pt.1  here
Ranking from most to least likely to have a Dacryphilia fetish  Pt.2;
Most
Yunho : Yunho can be emotional as a wife because yunho will only tell his true feelings around people he trusts. ( Moon in 8th house Gemini ) I think he is very emotional in sex ( 12th house Mars Scorpio ) when he feels bad emotionally, he will want you to express your real and sincere feelings to him in some way. In addition, it is obvious that it is a dense unit in every sense. Tears and tears of pleasure to lighten all your emotions in sex, your emotions are cleansed by Yunho’s kissing and giving you cute compliments. Even though he is very hard in sex, he is soft in words and feeling. For example, 'Okay darling, just focus on the feeling and don't think about anything else. don't be hard on yourself'. He can say 'baby give your hand' and  after kiss your hand. He shows the other side of him that is scorpio towards people he doesn't like. But if you are with him, he will never show you that side of you,(he is a pisces for youu) he loves you carefully. He avoids others and becomes very jealous of you and overprotective of you.
San Seonghwa: It's like San and Seonghwa just want to try everything a little more experimental and find out what they like and don't like in terms of confusion. And even if they like to give orders in bed, they won't say no to you giving orders to them and being dominant. They want to feel and try everything and add it among their loved ones.
One day, you suddenly follow the handcuffs, treat you harshly and scold you, the other day. They may want you to do the same thing for them. Because the moods of both are very changeable and they like to be guided by their emotions rather than their minds. (especially San feelings are very unstable.) But I think they like it very much when you are in it and there is variety rather than the same way every day. Because they do not like rutine they constantly seek change and confidence.
Yeosang : Yeosang seems to be very peaceful in bed. The sentence we can explain Yeosang most clearly; "The most beautiful word is the one that has not yet been spoken, and I haven't said it to you yet. '' would be. ( That’s so Yeosang ) 
He enjoys reading books or watching movies more than experiencing love. You can get his attention by talking about things he didn't know before. He loves mind games.He does not like displays of excessive emotionality. A woman who needs a lot of attention and someone who acts with the idea of ​​eternal love does not appeal to him. That's why I think Yeosang might not like the signs of being overly emotional and if he sees that you are doing it on purpose, he will immediately turned off, but if he understands that it is an involuntary and natural instinct, he will remain neutral towards this fetish.
Do not hesitate to share your fantasies, the person you can act most comfortably in this regard is the man with Eros in Gemini. Check out new places often, as he hates the monotony. Share with him the interests that will pique his curiosity.
Least
31 notes · View notes
twoscriddler · 1 year
Text
sorry discourse-y post my blog is for reblogs almost exclusively but i feel like i need to post this lol
There’s been convos about this lately esp in gomens spaces but just to set my stance on this since I’ve never really talked about it before; I just don’t think anything like rape, incest, pedophilia etc should be shown in a positive light.. like, ever. Nobody is saying you can’t write about these topics at all but I really do think if you get your rocks off to written child/incest/etc porn that is PRESENTED as porn to be consumed and enjoyed as such, I don’t think you’re an outlaw or anything, but I really do think you should like.. seek help. Philias are mental illnesses as much as phobias are and I really do think normalizing them in any kind of fictionalized porn is absolutely Not good or safe for anybody involved and I’d prefer that people cope with actual healthy coping mechanisms that will get people away from those thoughts & compulsions rather than feeding into them, in any capacity. The argument “people don’t choose their philias” is correct but it doesn’t hold up in this context because that applies to any mental illness. People don’t choose to have PDs or dissociative disorders or phobias either but it doesn’t mean they shouldn’t seek help, because all of those things still hinder our ability to function normally when they go untreated. This applies to philias. I do not think fictionalized porn is on the same level as porn with real people but the idea and intention behind it is dangerous and unhealthy. I hate pro ship/anti discourse so much because it turns the argument into this super black-and-white thing when there’s a lot of complexities to it that people tend to overlook in the face of online discourse wars and gives “sides” people should choose to “fight” on the side of, when this is really less of a argument to me and more just… concern, it’s worry and fear. It’s really scary to see people turn such a sensitive topic into another subject of internet back-and-forths that never actually progress or lead to any productive conversations and end up hurting a lot of people who are actively suffering in the process.
3 notes · View notes
ramonadecember · 1 year
Note
I’m trying not to spam you again lmao but bear with me as I send these (auto correct was fighting me every step of the way lmfao excuse any misspelled shit)
For Eli:
* Eros 5
* Phillia 3
* Ludus 1
* Philautia 4,5
oc love asks.
I need everyone to know that Chaos says this, and then every ask after this has twice as many questions as this one 😂
Eros/5: the question I knew you would choose lmao. because just about all of Eli’s self worth is tied to his looks. he sees being a pretty face as all that he has going on, and all he’s good for. enough so that when he gets a gnarly cut along his face that’s sure to leave a equally gnarly scar despite best efforts, it sends Eli into a total spiral. no longer thinks he’s attractive or desirable, or that he’ll be able to use his looks to get things done like in the past, and if that’s the case, then what’s the point…
Philia/3: what Eli most looks for in his friends is just like… people who are on his side. that doesn’t mean blindly agreeing with him on everything or anything like that, but just… having people who support him when it ultimately comes down to it. he hasn’t really had a lot of that, even from the place you’d think it should come from the most, such as from his own mother. 
Ludus/1: number one flirting champion Eli Bennett, ha. but he doesn’t necessarily use pickup lines, per se. at least, not enough to have any favorites. he uses a combination of light teasing and physical contact, and it seems to get the job done, man or woman. he’s also not much coaching others, with his main advice being along the lines of ‘have you tried… not doing that?’ after poor attempts. sooo helpful. 
Philautia/4: besides physical attributes, what Eli likes best about himself is how cunning and quick he is. the only time it bothers him that people tend to overlook that is when he’s like… brushed off when actually making a good point/plan/etc. and feeling like no one is listening to him, but mostly, he’s content to let people underestimate him and think he’s just vapid and self-involved. tends to work out in his favor. 
Philautia/5: Eli has always mostly had mostly that opinion of himself from the first questions, about how he’s good for being pretty and little else. so he’s leaned pretty heavily into that identity, even if he’s pretty insecure under all the bluster and ego. but Eli has learned to value more about himself than simply how he looks and what he can get people to do for him because of that. that’s in large part due to the gang he’s apart of, due to being around people who genuinely like him for reasons outside of that. and also because of Silas in particular, because he never holds back on giving Eli the affirmation/reassurance he needs. he’s slowly starts to view himself at more.
2 notes · View notes
rec-diary · 1 year
Text
the search for love.
Tumblr media
This one was a journey. The rise and fall of a man in his search for human connection.
I feel like Flowers for Algernon was perfectly balanced in terms of plot and character. One drives the other, and the other in turn shapes the one.
“The more intelligent you become the more problems you’ll have, Charlie. Your intellectual growth is going to outstrip your emotional growth.”
Fantastic foreshadowing.
Charlie starts off incredibly lonely, incredibly motivated and incredibly desperate to please. The motifs of control, fear and resistance to change-the human experience-are explored through the characters.
The psychological aspects - the dissociation, the split personality, the mental blocks.
The theme that science is basically “playing god” is alluded to several times over the course of events.
The constant dehumanization.
And oh, the characters. I loved them all.
They're complex in a way that they become foils of each other. Take the conversation Charlie has with Burt when he realizes no one is a genius. Burt presents a more balanced perspective - acknowledging Nemur as ordinary, egotistical, fearful but also capable of and working on something great. Burt makes a good foil for Charlie’s black and white perception of the people around him.
Then of course, Alice and Fay. Fay representing eros and Alice representing philia-evolved-into-pragma. Both women are essential to Charlie’s emotional growth, and both play different roles. Fay provides him the release he has longed for and Alice satisfies his craving for companionship.
To love and be loved. This is the most fundamental of all human experiences. This is what it means to be human.
“But I know now there’s one thing you’ve all overlooked: intelligence and education that hasn’t been tempered by human affection isn’t worth a damn.”
At the end of the day, people are still people. Human beings. And it’s those human relations that make existence less of a pain that it already is. Because we are biased and fallible, not impervious to emotions no matter what we may claim.
Flowers for Algernon is a journey about love.
0 notes
eveningstar1516 · 3 years
Text
Rise of the Demon King ~ Chapter 6
Rise of the Demon King
Fic: Multi Chapter Paring: MC x Everyone (Mostly Lucifer) Type: Angst with a Happy Ending Total Word Count: 26,758 TW: Major Character Death, Reader gets stabbed with a sword through their chest so..., Abusive Parents, Past Child Abuse, Demon Hunters, Loss of Control Summary: You’ve done it. You’ve finally done it. You’ve managed to anger the demon king. Now you hold your head high as he hands down your sentence. AO3 Portal: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27065362
1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Previously:
Letting go, both demons left for the palace as I went to my room. Shedding my clothes, I bypassed pyjamas and laid in bed. Tears ran down my face as I thought about Y/N and all the precious memories we had made together. I rolled over and realized they left their Little D No.1 plushie here from their last sleepover. Clutching it, their scent strong on the plushie, I drifted off to sleep, hugging the Little D in my arms wishing it was Y/N instead.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CHAPTER 6 - Celestial Realm (1207 words)
I awoke to the sun shining brightly through the floor to ceiling windows overlooking a garden. The bed felt softer than a cloud. Basking in the softness of the bed, it took a hot second before I realized that this is not my bed and there is a SUN! Bolting upright I looked around a bedroom that was not my own. The entire wall on my right was covered in floor to ceiling windows. At the foot of the bed was a small bookshelf with some plants on top. Just beyond that seemed to be a walk in closet. A small bathroom was located next to the closet. Other than a small study desk near the bed, the room was simple and plainly decorated. The walls were painted off-white with light neutral pastel green trims and accents. A knock at the door had me jumping out of my skin.
“Y/N, are you awake?” Finally, something I recognize!
“Yes, come in Simeon.”
“Good morning Y/N. Did I wake you?” “No, I woke up a short while ago. Where am I, Simeon?” Simeon walked over and sat in a chair by the desk. A soft smile on his face as he answered.
“You’re in the Celestial realm-”
“Yes, I know that, I mean where in the realm am I? And who’s room is this?”
“This is a guest room in the House of Honors where Luke and I live. We found you passed out in the garden with your wings covering you.”
“We?”
“Michael and I. He and the rest of the Archangels live upstairs on the top floor.” Simeon opened his mouth to continue when we heard 3 strong knocks on the door. Michael then came in. He had a fair complexion. Reddish orange hair was braided down his right shoulder. He sported a get up similar to Simeons but he had a full gray half sleeve with a cape instead of Simeon's sleeveless leotard and over the shoulder cape. His shirt bore golden accents and his cape was golden on the inside without any tassels.
“Good morning Simeon, Y/N.”
“Good morning Michael. How did it go?”
“Father isn't exactly pleased to have Y/N up here, sporting a fashion similar to Samael’s no less. He requested an audience with them as soon as they woke and had eaten.”
“Very well, I’ll escort them there after they eat.”
“Father had specifically asked me to escort them to the palace. Simeon, you should attend to your other duties.”
“Of course.” Simeon turned to me, giving me a hug.
“It was nice seeing you again Y/N.”
“Likewise, say hi to Luke for me”
“I will.” With that Simeon let go and walked out of the room.
Michael now looked at me, looking less than pleased to be dealing with me.
“Follow me.” He then walked out and I scrambled out of bed catching up with his long strides. We soon entered what looked like a dining area. There seemed to be some leftovers from breakfast.
“Have a seat and help yourself. Once you finish, we will go see Father, he will decide what to do with you.” Michael didn’t bother waiting for my reply before heading off in the direction of what looked to be a kitchen. Following his direction, I grabbed a plate and put some familiar looking foods that I remembered Luke teaching me about. As I was eating, I mentally prepared myself for the inevitable face off I would have with God. It was not going to be pretty.
In the Devildom. After they lost Y/N
When they first lost Y/N, Satan kept to himself. He locked himself up in his room and submerged himself in his books. When he couldn’t take it anymore, he found himself in his circle taking it out on the humans down there serving their punishment. His wrath consuming him. One day Lucifer found him curled in on himself trying to reel in his wrath after unleashing it on some of the 4th circles' inhabitants. Satan didn’t sense anything approaching until he felt a firm but comforting hand on his shoulder. Looking up he found Lucifer looking down on him with a sad smile and a look of something between pity and sympathy in his eyes. Lucifer looked down at his brother, no, his son. He took one look at the state he found Satan in and did something he didn’t think he’d ever do again, he hugged him. Satan felt his older brother's, no, his father's arms wrap around him. At first, all he felt was shock. He and Lucifer haven’t hugged since he was a child, now though Satan found himself leaning into his father's touch. Ignoring everything around them, Satan let out all his grief and sadness, holding onto his father like if he didn’t he’d disappear as well.
Present
Classes were going slow for Satan. While he would normally be engrossed in the lectures, diligently taking notes, he keeps finding himself drifting between thoughts, not staying on one topic for long and always finding a way back to thinking about Y/N. About halfway through his curses and hexes lecture, he gave up on paying attention and let his mind wander and his hands write whatever they wanted. At the end of the lecture, Satan looked at his notebook taking in what he had written. Mind you, he didn’t pay attention and just let his hand wander. What he found on the page both amazed and saddened him. Today’s lectures had been about the art of seduction with the use of curses instead of a demon's natural charm or beauty. He ended up writing out diligent notes from his lecture, but instead of them being in his usual note taking style, he found them in the form of a story Y/N had once had an idea about writing. He wrote about his time tutoring Y/N for their exams and how they successfully seduced him but instead of acting like a kitten, they took a spell Satan taught them and altered it so that not only would they have seduced Satan, but he still regained his free will, with Y/N pulling the strings, unknowing to him. He read the short story his mind had came up with, his mind revisiting memories of different lessons with Y/N, their progress, their ups, their downs, the one time they cursed Mammon into a frog, the look on their face when they successfully executed a complex spell without Satan’s magical assistance. He found himself longing for those days, an unfamiliar yet comforting emotion filling his heart. As he walked through the halls towards his next class, he made a vow to himself to try and feel that unfamiliar emotion until he could name it, then keep feeling it, because, for Satan, it felt like Y/N was right next to them, with their signature smile on their face, proud of him for focusing on a feeling opposite of his wrath. Should he start to feel his wrath taking over, he would picture Y/N, holding his hand, encouraging him to feel that unfamiliar emotion. One he soon learned was called ‘Philia Love’.
40 notes · View notes
stygiusfic · 4 years
Text
hades polycule thoughts
Alright, guess what time it is? Time for Hades polycule thoughts! And specifically, MegZag thoughts, because they don’t get the love they deserve.
Since the idea of the 3 Hades romances symbolizing three types of love (agape, eros and philia) became popular, I’ve seen more than a few people make the frankly baffling leap of logic that, because Thanatos is agape (considered the purest and highest form of love) and Megaera is eros (sexual or erotic love), then the relationship with Thanatos is more meaningful and Meg is just a fuck buddy. Which is a take hotter than Zagreus’ flame feet, and it bothers me a lot.
Let’s be clear. If someone enjoys ThanZag more than MegZag, and decides to turn Meg down in their run (I’m going to assume there’s a non-zero chance someone somewhere doesn’t find her incredibly attractive), then that’s fine. That’s how they choose to see the game and that’s peachy and fine by me.
What bothers me is to see this “ranking” of one relationship as better than the other in the context of the canon polycule, with both of them involved with Zag at the same time.
Cue B*rnie meme, I AM ONCE AGAIN ASKING FOR understanding about healthy polyamory. If you’re on board with both Zagreus ships and specifically the poly option that the game gives us, please don’t rank one romance as “better” than the other. They’re different. Different isn’t better or worse. Different is different. That’s the whole point of polyamory: rather than ask one single person to fulfill every need you may have in a relationship, you have different partners who fulfill different needs.
It’s true that, from what we see in the game, Meg and Zag connect more deeply and readily on a physical level, and sexually they’re clearly very comfortable with each other and know each other very well. But I think a lot of people overlook that they also care about each other deeply, beyond the sex.
Yes, Meg is mean in the beginning, and that’s not great, but there’s a lot of history there that we only get glimpses of, and a lot of frustrations they need to work through before they can get back together, and probably even after. And once they’re together, they seem so happy with each other, and I know I can’t be the only one who sees that.
In conclusion, don’t short-change MegZag. If they’re “about sex”, but y’all are still happy to entertain lots of dirty sex from the ThanZag side, then let MegZag have some of the emotional closeness too.
208 notes · View notes
storysofmyown · 3 years
Text
Seven stages of Love Chapter 2: Philia
Summary: Ever since the Celestial War, since they all fell, Asmodeus has  dedicated himself to his sin. Not caring about anything else, but  drowning himself in the pleasure and ecstasy of it all. But not anymore,  now he cant even handle the idea of it. But, what else is there to  want? After so long of having indulged in his sin, what is there than  Asmodeus is looking for, something that will fill him, and that wont  drive him to destruction? Perhaps his brothers can help him with that. Warnings will appear in each chapter.
Trigger Warning: Momentary anger, sadness. Let me know if I overlooked anything.
Word Count: 2683
Read on Ao3
Pondering, wondering, with a strain in the heart that no other but himself could lift. Yet, he didn’t have the means to lift it. The feeling overwhelmed him to the point where he hadn’t left the house at all during an entire week. To him it was simply unthinkable to have to submit himself to the stares and the actions of the people that noticed him. To think that all this time he thought he needed nothing more. Nothing more but those meaningless kisses that brought satisfaction.
Now the simple thought of a stranger’s hand to even as much as caress his cheek without any feeling made him feel sick to his stomach. He wanted to be cared for. But…it had to be a very specific kind of care. One so specific he didn’t know what it was but knew he wouldn’t find it any time soon. But…what even was it that he wanted? He knew what it was called, Belphegor had enlightened that much…but he didn’t know what it was. Was there a certain definition? Was there even something that would define the exact way he was feeling, with the exact solution he needed? Perhaps, something that could define all the aspects of that craving? He didn’t know, he didn’t even know what he was looking for. So, who better to ask than Satan?
He had hundreds upon hundreds of books. Surely, he must have something that defined that intense feeling. One that gave Asmodeus some sort of clarity. That defined it beyond a feeling. Beyond a lifestyle that many searched for in their lives but can never seem to reach entirely or are satisfied with. Surely, he must have something, right? Asmodeus thought for a moment as he walked outside of his room for the very first time in a while. One of his brothers had been checking up on him from time to time. But thanks to Belphegor they didn’t stay nor bother him much. He needed time to think. And he was thankful to them for caring in any way…but right now he needed some type of answer. Or something to point him in the right direction…just anything would be helpful.
He was on his way to Satan’s room. He was determined to knock, get some books, and start some kind of research…but sometimes things don’t go the way one wishes they did. Sometimes…something makes the path that one was entrusted on, divert for just a mere second…and that’s when everything in the future changes. For just that simple misstep, for just that look in another direction and the entire path that once laid in front of one is changed, unrecognizable. It might be easier; it might be far more difficult. Perhaps it was because his mind was far quieter than it had ever been, while simultaneously making so much noise it drove him insane during the nighttime, or maybe it was the way his expression had become blank and no longer was focused in maintaining that fake smile that had become permanent on his lips. Maybe it was all of them, none, a beat, a noise, a breeze…but his path changed. And with it, his quest in search of a definition, that would set his heart at peace.
Was he stalling? Was that why he was standing in front of Leviathans door, hearing the muffled sound of his older brother laugh? If he remembered correctly, there was a new game Leviathan was looking forward this week. He remembered the older demon having mentioned it a while back. He could hear the faint sound of music through the door, it was mostly muffled, and Leviathan cheers as he won made it harder to hear. He sighed once. Starring at the door before shaking his head. He should really just focus, he needed to go to Satan’s room. Besides it’s not like Leviathan would even give him the time of the day when he was consumed by one of his games or something like that.
So, he turned around, taking a deep breath for a moment as he took a step. But…as he already knew, things don’t go as they are planned at all. A plan that was set thousands of years ago when his aching body first arrived at the Devildom. A promise to enjoy himself to the last bit. A promise he had broken the moment those doubts came to mind. After all, if he had just fallowed his promise, he wouldn’t be here, in that very moment, with those particular thoughts that made his breath caught in his throat at Leviathan’s words. A certain shout caught his attention. Leviathan had won on his game, and this prompted him to shout, to celebrate, to leap in joy and exclaim to the world some words, a specific word. Words that Asmodeus could only dream of using that lightly someday.
“YES!!!  We did it! Good work, I knew we could!!" A giggle, and then a storm. "Henry, I **** you!!”
…he had to be joking, right? He couldn’t have heard that right. He must be in a state of dream or something. Leviathan…he…he wouldn’t just throw that word around like that, and to his damn fish of all things?!
“S-seriously?!” He spoke, before knocking the door, perhaps a little too sudden and harsh since he heard Leviathan gasp, a certain ache in his knuckles that he was barely aware of.
“Sorry Lucifer, I’ll try to make less noise!” He spoke, causing Asmodeus to roll his eyes.
“I’m not Lucifer.” He simply said, a pout on his lips as he crossed his arms and waited for Leviathan to open the door.
“A-Asmodeus?!” Leviathan’s voice came out shocked, he could hear struggle as Leviathan moved inside the room, something falling and him screeching before groaning, only to open the door and look at his younger brother, a small pout on his lips. “W-wha- I mean, w-when, I just…huh?” Levi was at a loss of words as he starred down at his brother, only for Asmodeus to roll his eyes a little and go inside the room. Not caring about Leviathan’s protest on how he had not said the secret password.
He entered the room. The blues and darkness within it, meant to reflect the ocean waves and the water element which his brother controlled along with all sea creatures…only reminded him of his room for a second. It was mostly the darkness. Since that night where Belphegor comforted him, Asmodeus refused to go out, his windows permanently sealed, and the lights turned off as he refused to acknowledge himself in the mirror by the pure fear he might despise what was staring back at him. By the fear that he might look and only find the lust he had started to loath so deeply.
His eyes flew to the screen that was on, the word “Victory” could be read, a controller left on the floor as Leviathan watched him with a slight embarrassed blush on the doorway. For some reason his eyes kept scanning the room. This was possibly the thousandth time he had entered to his brothers’ room and yet, this was the first time he felt like he was in the room, and not in his own head. It was a weird sensation. Entering a place so many times, but never actually seeing it. Recognizing it, or even as simply as placing his attention in anything that was not himself. It was Leviathan’s room, and if someone asked him to identify Levi’s room and showed him pictures, he could probably tell them it was this one. But if someone asked him, to number at least 3 things of his brothers’ room he would draw a blank and just point out that he only had one mirror in his bathroom, and that occasionally he could see his reflection on the big crystal wall from the fish tank. But besides that, he…he didn’t know anything else inside the room. This included himself, and his brother.
His eyes flew to Henry, as he walked over to the small fishbowl Leviathan put him in sometimes so he was beside him when playing. He kneeled in front of it as he starred at the fish. An eyebrow raised as he replayed the words he had just heard Leviathan exclaim on passing. Such a word…were…were they supposed to mean so much? Asmodeus had just started to think about them, he had yet even to find any meaning to, yet his brother was throwing it like that to his fish? He seriously couldn’t understand it, at all. He glanced over at Leviathan who was playing with his fingers while looking a little nervous at Asmodeus intrusion on what was his room, but there was something else. It seemed like he wanted to ask something, so, for that same reason Asmo decided to stay silent for a couple more seconds and see if his brother spoke. Thankfully, he did.
“…Asmodeus” He started, and by his tone the younger demon immediately regretted having let him talk. “…are you okay? I-I mean! Y-you are always partying and in clubs and talking with s-so many people…yet we didn’t see much of you t-this week…”
That…that was something hard to answer. Was there a reason for him not to be okay? Was there a reason for him to be okay? There were doubts in his mind, questions in his heart, needs that he had not been aware of until recently. But most of all…there was…there was a void that he didn’t understand. A void he had just become aware that existed within him. Asmodeus pressed his lips together, wondering for a moment. The silence filling Leviathan with anxiety as he looked down, taking deep breaths while awaiting for an answer.
“I…” he started; eyes focused on the small fish, “…heard you say something on my way here.” Was he avoiding the question? Or was this the answer in his own way? “I was surprised that the same words Belphie muttered to comfort me you would yell them at Henry.”
“Words? What are you talking about?” He wasn’t trying to act dumb; hell knew that was Mammon’s job, but he was certainly confused. Having his brother barge into his room like this, no explanation, and suddenly ask him things like this when he had been acting off the entire week…Leviathan was worried. They were all worried.
Asmodeus thought for a moment. Why was he even here? Between the two, it was entirely possible for him to know more about those words than someone who barely left the room to get food and left the house for 3 seconds every month. The idea that Leviathan, someone that was constantly so locked away from everything and anyone, would know more about that subject even though Asmodeus had put himself out in the world time and time again…it was almost insulting.
No.
No it wasn’t insulting. It just hurt to know that the loneliness he had believed to be new, turned out to be so old that he wondered if it had always been part of him. It just to think that everything he once thought he knew of himself, had started to crumble slowly.
“Levi…h-how can you say them to an animal?” His voice was soft and low, he was sure he had spoken, but the memories of the words leaving his lips was not present. For a moment, he caught his own reflection starring at him instead of his eyes focusing on the small goldfish. And in those eyes, he saw how powerful his sadness and desperation had become…his eyes damping in tears as he looked away, refusing to let anyone see that.
Leviathan eyes went wide at his younger brothers’ words. From all the things he expected him to say, that wasn’t it. Was that…what he said before Asmodeus entered the room, was that why his brother had barged in like that? He starred at him for what felt like ages, before clearing his throat a little and taking a step close to Asmodeus. Trying to wrap his head around what was happening. Normally he would ask what he meant and why he was asking something like that, but the way Asmo looked in that moment it was like he was begging for an answer and just that. An answer, something that gave him an idea of what it all meant and what he would make out of it. Leviathan sighed, closing the door behind him before sitting down on the floor, his back to Asmo as he knew he would not be able to answer the question if he was looking at him.
“H-Henry isn’t an animal, you know?” He started, taking the controller in his hands so that it gave him something to be distracted and consumed, something to help ignore the nerves he was feeling for some reason. “H-He is there for me even when no one else is, he celebrates with me when I win. And in some way listens to me whenever I'm rambling or even feeling down... I-I know I’m an anti-social otaku that no one cares about and that barely gets out of his room, but…Henry is here with me. Henry isn’t an animal or a pet.” He paused, thinking over his words, a small smile creeping to his lips as he chuckled a bit. This all probably sounded so dumb to someone like Asmodeus but to him it was his truth. “…Henry is my friend. W-which is why...which is why I **** him...”
Levi looked at his brother, a genuine smile as his hands gripped the controller a little lighter now. Expecting to hear him laugh and talk about how ridiculous he was, thinking such a thing. But nothing came from Asmodeus side for a long minute. Instead, there was only silent as he thought about it. Trough the fish tank reflection Asmo looked past himself, something he wouldn’t even consider to do before, but now, his eyes were focused on Levi's reflection, who was looking at him. But he couldn’t find the words to answer him at all. Levi cared for Henry…because Henry was his friend. No matter how he looked at it, it was something so simple to understand, yet Asmodeus couldn’t properly comprehend what it all meant.
“…friend, huh?” He finally spoke, now looking at the small fish that seemed to be completely uninterested in Asmodeus presence. “…you can feel that way towards your friends?” He didn’t know if he was answering Leviathan or if he was talking to himself. All he knew is that he felt a pang of loneliness when the realization settled as his eyes feel to the floor, shoulders visibly slumping.
He didn’t have anyone like that. Sure, he had people that admired and envied him, that wanted to talk and have a connection with him but, nothing was genuine. Nothing would be as sweet and sincere, as the care Leviathan felt for Henry because…because Henry was his friend. Asmodeus chuckled. Perhaps at the irony of the situation or maybe at his revelation, either way, he finally turned to Leviathan, a smile that his brother had never seen pestered in the face of the younger demon as he slowly got up. Walking to his older brother and planting a kiss on Leviathan’s forehead. Only to walk over to the door and opening it. Leviathan wanted to protest, to ask him why had wanted to know about that, or to just try and comfort his brother, but before he could say anything, Asmodeus spoke.
“…thank you, Levi. For telling me.”
It was the quietest he had ever heard his brother being. And yet, there was such a plead in his voice, asking to be left alone, asking to be given the time and space to think. Leviathan didn’t know what was the best option here, but who was here to deny his brother the comfort that came with being alone, to someone that needed it so much?
Philia: Deep, authentic bond. Pure and kind. From which friendships are born.
****
Hi~
Here is the second part of this fanfic! Overall, I really enjoyed writing Levi in this chapter, and I really hope you all had liked it as well! Next chapter will be up next Saturday as well, until then!!
Previous Chapter
Next chapter
Other works
15 notes · View notes
crystalbahamut · 3 years
Text
what roams the night
FFXIV Write Day 2: Aberrant
Summary: Lyna is grateful to the Warrior of Darkness for what they have done for Lakeland, but they remain an oddity she does not fully know how to handle.
Author’s note: I started off wanting to write people talking about the WoL as the First’s Most Loveable Cryptid but ended with this. I think it’s still on theme, though. Takes place some nebulous time in ShB, after Philia is defeated. I also don’t actually know how much the general populace knows of what’s going on, so I’m winging it.
Warnings: Shadowbringers spoilers, playing fast and loose with canon, unspecified WoL/D (they/them used in reference), but also a mention of WoL/D crafting and generally being pleasant and helpful, cross-posted to AO3
Words: 1,188
 ---
“It don’t seem natural.”
Lyna stops, one ear flicking towards a hushed conversation between a group of soldiers currently sitting around a fire on break. She’s been trying to keep track of potential grumbling– the addition of night exercises had caused no small amount of grief when it came to scheduling, but no one could deny the need to acclimate to patrolling in the dark, if only so that everyone stops being so distracted by the stars. This, though, doesn’t sound like complaints about decisions command has made– though Lyna notices one of her lieutenants, Boa-Lann, has a frown on his face and also has an ear turned towards the conversation.
“They didn’t even take a lantern with them– I offered and everything,” the hume says. “I couldn’t escort them, but I figured it wouldn’t do for a friend of the Crystal Exarch to get eaten by a viper on their way to the water. They told me they didn’t need it– the moon was bright enough! I mean, it was brighter than tonight, but still…”
“I think they prefer the dark,” a drahn woman says as she comes to sit with them. “I barely ever see them during the sunlight hours, but I’ve bumped into them twice after my shift.”
An elf private excitedly adds, “I saw them at night too! One time they were just crafting some leathers at a little bench they had set up outside. Weren’t even admiring the sky or nothing.”
“It makes sense, doesn’t it?” a ronso says, and more people are gathering when he adds, “I mean…they are…they gotta be…”
Lyna turns her ear away and sighs with frustration as she crosses her arms. A stranger shows up one day, turns out to be a very important guest of the Exarch, goes to fight at a battle at which the Lightwarden of Lakeland is vanquished, and people are not supposed to assume this newcomer is the Warrior of Darkness? The Exarch is not a stupid man– sometimes reckless, eccentric, and always prone to overlooking his own health– but not stupid, and far too devoted to the Crystarium and her people to not know this would happen. She had known this would happen, and so she curses herself for yet being unprepared to deal with it.
“Captain?”
But she is going to have to deal with it now. She tilts her ear back towards the group as though she hasn’t been listening– thankfully there are no other viis to call her on that– and lets her head follow. Behind the (now much bigger) group, Boa-Lann tilts his head in question and she subtly shakes her own. He nods once but stays, and she is thankful for the backup. “What is it?”
“You saw the Warrior of Darkness at the battle for Holminster Switch, didn’t you?” the hume asks and they all eagerly lean forward. Like children, she thinks with faint amusement. They do their duties well; she cannot entirely begrudge them their excitement.
And yet.
“I did,” she says, and before any more questions can be asked, quickly adds, “And I have been forbidden from revealing their identity or anything that can lead to such a reveal. Such orders were given by the Crystal Exarch himself.”
There is, predictably, a lot of groaning and protestations. She remains impassive in the face of them.
“Why?” the ronso asks. “Do the people not deserve to know the face of their savior?”
“I do not think he would disagree with that reasoning,” she says, because she doesn’t. “But it is more complicated than that, as the Warrior of Darkness also requested their identity not be revealed. I cannot speak for my lord but, were I in his place, I would want to keep relations with them as pleasant as possible. They have done us an unimaginable service already…I think abiding their wish for anonymity is not an unreasonable request.”
The ronso grumbles but does not countermand her. He is that sensible, at least.
“I think…I think that’s probably for the best,” a hume woman, one of the healers, says hesitantly. “If they’re here to bring the dark back to the world, they have to go to the other Lightwardens, and then with Eulmore hunting them, it’s just safer and easier to be anonymous, isn’t it?”
“Indeed,” Lyna says, thankful for the guided distraction. “And…though I cannot say much more, I can say I asked why they would rather remain unknown. They said they prefer the people to direct their admiration to the night sky, where they feel it better belongs. Perhaps they will reveal it themself someday, but for now, their work is not yet done.”
Her words seem to soothe the edge of the more disgruntled ones, and even cause some looks of admiration among the others. Oh well; if the Exarch wants less of such wonder, he can find a way to deal with it.
Lyna stands straight and clears her throat. “And neither is ours. If Eulmore returns they will be unprepared for the darkness of night, but we will be well practiced. So– back to your units. The next break will be for dinner.”
They get up without complaint and Lyna watches them go before she turns– only to come nearly face to face with the subject just discussed. “What-what are you doing here?”
The Warrior smiles apologetically and hefts a bag to readjust it on their shoulder. “Sorry; I saw you talking to your soldiers and didn’t want to interrupt.”
“How did you come up so quietly?” Lyna doesn’t mean to sound so irritated, but her ears work just fine, thank you.
“I stepped around the foliage,” they say, like they did not just come from an angle with no lanterns.
“Sounds like stepping silently in the dark is pretty natural to you,” one of the soldiers says cheekily.
“I’ve participated in a treasure hunt or two. You learn to get real quiet creeping around caves full of things that would like to eat you,” the Warrior says pleasantly and shifts again, either not understanding the implication or completely ignoring it. Lyna doesn’t know fully what to think of them just yet. “Um, Captain, since I have your attention, I don’t suppose you can point me to the mess? I’ve got a delivery from the Crystarium and I’d really like to put it down.”
“You’re helping with dinner?” she asks, because even not being known as The Warrior, surely the Exarch’s guest is above such menial tasks?
“I’m a trained chef; I can help,” the Warrior says defensively. They then drop their voice and wink at Lyna. “I mean…if you can’t trust me with your food, who can you trust, right?”
The first one then. Lyna can’t help but smile ever so slightly. “I suppose you have a point,” she says and directs them to the right building. As she watches them go, cheerfully on their way to help cook dinner for a bunch of soldiers, she shakes her head. The Warrior of Darkness is an odd one, for certain.
But she can’t find it in herself to mind overmuch.
3 notes · View notes
pvelez · 4 years
Text
How I discovered there are (at least) 14 different kinds of love by analysing the world’s languages.
By Tim Lomas
https://theconversation.com/how-i-discovered-there-are-at-least-14-different-kinds-of-love-by-analysing-the-worlds-languages-91509
No emotion, surely, is as cherished and sought after as love. Yet on occasions such as Valentine’s day, we can often be misled into thinking that it consists solely in the swooning, star-crossed romance of falling deeply “in love”. But on reflection, love is far more complex. Indeed, arguably no word covers a wider range of feelings and experiences than love.
So how can we ever define what love really is? In my new study, published in the Journal for the Theory of Social Analysis, I’ve made a start by searching the world’s languages for words relating to love that don’t exist in English.
Most of us use the word love fairly liberally. I use it for the deep ardour, care and respect I have for my wife. But I will also call upon it to describe the unshakeable bonds of kinship and history I share with my family, and the connections and allegiances I have with close friends. I’ll even use it in relation to our cheeky dog Daisy, the music of Tom Waits, Sunday morning lie ins and many other things.
Clearly, whatever love is, it spans a great deal of emotional and experiential territory. Needless to say, I’m not the first to notice this. For instance, in the 1970s, the psychologist John Lee identified six different “styles” of love. He did so by studying other languages, in particular the classical lexicons of Greek and Latin, which boast a wealth of precise words describing specific kinds of love.
Lee identified three primary forms of love. “Eros” denotes passion and desire, “ludus” refers to flirtatious, playful affection, and “storgē” describes familial or companionate bonds of care. He then paired these primary forms to produce three secondary forms: ludus plus storgē creates “pragma”, a rational, sensible long-term accommodation. However, eros combined with ludus generates “mania”, signifying possessive, dependent, or troubled intimacies, while eros and storgē form the charitable, selfless compassion of “agápē”.
This analysis seems like a good start, but an incomplete one. After all, it mostly just concerns romantic partnerships, and doesn’t account for many of the feelings that fall within the ambit of love.
Untranslatable words
I decided to expand on this work as part of a broader lexicographic project to collect so-called “untranslatable” words that pertain to well-being, a work-in-progress which currently features nearly 1,000 words. Such words can reveal phenomena which have been overlooked or under-appreciated in one’s own culture, as I explore in two forthcoming books (a general interest exploration of key words, and an academic analysis of the lexicography). In the case of love, then, untranslatable words help us understand the bountiful variety of emotions and bonds that are in English subsumed within the one word “love”.
My enquiry yielded hundreds of words from around 50 languages (which of course leaves many languages still to be explored). I analysed these thematically, grouping the words into 14 distinct “flavours” of love. Some languages were particularly prolific in their lexical dexterity, especially Greek, which contributed the most words by far.
As such, in a spirit of poetic consistency, I gave each flavour a relevant Greek label. I call these “flavours” to avoid implying that relationships can be exclusively pigeonholed as constituting just one form. A romantic partnership, say, might blend several flavours together, generating a unique “taste” which might subtly change over time.
14 flavours
So, what are these flavours? The first three do not concern people at all. They refer to people’s fondness and passion for certain activities (meraki), places (chōros) and objects (eros). Note that this usage of eros reflects its deployment in classical Greece, where it was often used in the context of aesthetic appreciation rather than romance. Indeed, like love itself, all these words can be used in varied and changing ways.
Each of these flavours is a “compound” of related terms from various languages. For instance, the connection to place denoted by chōros is reflected in concepts such as “turangawaewae”, “cynefin” and “querencia” – from Māori, Welsh and Spanish respectively – which all pertain in some way to the sentiment of having a “place to stand” on this Earth, somewhere secure that we can call home.
When it comes to love between people, the first three are the non-romantic forms of care, affection and loyalty we extend towards family (storgē), friends (philia), and ourselves (philautia). Then, embracing romance, Lee’s notions of pragma, mania, and ludus are joined by the passionate desire of “epithymia”, and the star-crossed destiny of “anánkē”.
Again, these labels all bring together related terms from diverse languages. For instance, the spirit of anánkē is found in terms like the Japanese “koi no yokan”, which roughly means “premonition of love”, capturing the feeling on first meeting someone that falling in love will be inevitable. And likewise the Chinese term “yuán fèn” can be interpreted as a binding force of irresistible destiny.
Finally, there are three forms of selfless, “transcendent” love, in which one’s own needs and concerns are relatively diminished. These are the compassion of agápē, ephemeral sparks of “participatory consciousness”, such as when we are emotionally swept up within a group dynamic (koinonia), and the kind of reverential devotion that religious believers might hold towards a deity (sebomai).
Clearly, there any many ways we can love and be loved. You and your life partner might well experience feelings of epithymia, pragma, or anánkē, but may also – or alternatively, instead – be blessed with moments of storgē, agápē and koinonia. Likewise, a deep friendship could similarly be suffused with some mixture of flavours such as pragma, storgē, agápē and anánkē, in which we feel a profound and fated bond of lifelong connection.
Moreover, this list is merely preliminary, with other flavours potentially yet to be acknowledged. So hopefully we can be reassured that even if we are not romantically head-over-heels “in love” – in that archetypal Hollywood fashion – our lives may still be graced by love in some precious and uplifting way.
https://theconversation.com/how-i-discovered-there-are-at-least-14-different-kinds-of-love-by-analysing-the-worlds-languages-91509
1 note · View note
cwnerd12 · 4 years
Text
5. If I Have Not Love Fancy state dinner at the royal palace of Ammon. Newly-crowned young Silas and Rose are having their first state dinner in Ammon. They stand at the end of a fancy staircase. Up at the top, a herald announces, “Announcing Their Royal Majesties, King Allen and Queen Louise of Ammon!” Allen and Louise descend the staircase. Louise is wearing the sunburst tiara. Behind them walk Prince Richard and Princess Elaine, their son, 8-year-old Prince Zachary, at their side. Richard looks down at Zachary, “That’ll be you some day. Whatcha think?" Zachary, “Pretty cool.” Allen reaches Silas and shakes his hand, “Silas! I am so glad you're here. I’m just delighted to see the someone is finally in charge of Gilboa.” Silas, “Couldn’t have done it without your support.” Allen, "I only hope you can do a few favors for me in exchange." Suddenly, a bomb goes off. Everyone ducks. From his position on the floor, King Allen looks around, bewildered, "What was that?! What the hell was that?!” Zachary cries and clutches his father's hand. Silas swoops Rose into his arms like the cover of a goddamn romance novel and carries her away.
Young Vesper Abbadon, a linguistics professor at Rabbath Christian University, teaches class, “The Greeks have many different words for love. In our modern society, we are most familiar with eros, that is, romantic and erotic love. You can’t turn on the radio without hearing songs about eros. What kind of other love could possibly exist? There is ludus, or playful love, which we feel in the initial giddy rush of infatuation. When a relationship has stabilized and matured, and becomes something based on commitment and deep, long-term understanding, it is pragma. We love our family members, storge. We love our friends, philia. We even love ourselves, philautia. A kind of love that is often mistaken for eros is mania. Obsessive, unhealthy love, the unforgiving kind of love that a stalker my feel for his victim. This is not love. As 1 Corinthians says, love is patient, love is kind. How many of you have heard that passage at a wedding?” he pauses for an answer, and smiles knowingly, “1 Corinthians 13 is so often mistaken as being about eros, or even storge, or philia. 1 Corinthians 13 is about the most important kind of love, the kind that is most often overlooked. Agape. Universal love, love for your fellow man. This is the kind of love that God feels for the world. The kind of love for which He gave us His only Son. Agape is patient. Agape is kind. Today, so many Christians act without agape, even though it the basis on which Christianity, in fact, all religion, is built. If I speak in the tongues of men or angels, but do not have love, I am but a resounding gong or a clanging cymbal. If I have the gift of prophecy and can fathom all mysteries and all knowledge, and I have a faith that can move mountains, but I have not love, I am nothing.” The classroom door opens, and a couple of police officers enter. Vesper ignores them and goes on, “If I give all I possess to the poor and give over my body to hardship that I may boast, but do not have love, I gain nothing.” The two police officers approach Vesper, “Professor Abbadon.” Vesper goes on, “Faith, hope, and agape: the greatest of these is agape.” The police officer repeats, “Professor Abbadon?” Finally, Vesper turns to them, “Yes?” Police officer, “Professor Abbadon, you are under arrest.”
Vesper sits in an interrogation room, handcuffed to a table. Two detectives are interviewing him, a 3rd officer stands behind them, menacing a club. Vesper, “So I suppose all Christians are terrorists now?” The 3rd officer clubs him hard over the head. Officer 1 puts a tape cassette in a player, “Is this you?” He presses play, “As Christians, we are called to protect our brethren. When one Christian is arrested, beaten, and tortured, we all are. We must unite against tyranny, even if it means a bloody fight. As Revelation says, to the one who is victorious and does My will to the end, I will give authority over nations.” Officer 1, “This recording was found in the car of the bomber who set himself off at the state gala.” Vesper, “That’s not the sort of thing I teach in my classroom.” Officer 3 slams him over the head again. Officer 2, “Shut the fuck up! You’re the one on these recordings!” Vesper laughs, “As servants of God, we commend ourselves in every way: in beatings, imprisonment, and hunger, with weapons of righteousness in the right hand and left! Do to me what you will, it’s nothing that true men of God haven’t already endured for centuries.” The door behind them opens, and two more men in police uniforms enter. Officer 1 looks at the two men, “Yes? What is it?” One of the men raises a gun and shoots the officer. Quickly, he shoots officer 2, while the other guy shoots officer 3. Guy 1 searches officer 1’s key ring, and gets the handcuff key. He unlocks Vesper, “Come on.”
Nighttime, a nondescript van pulls up in front of a small, ramshackle cluster of buildings. The front door of the largest building opens, and Esperanza Abbadon, visibly pregnant, hurries outside. The back door of the van opens, and the two fake police officers from earlier climb out, followed by Vesper. Esperanza hurries up to him, and they greet each other with a tight hug. Esperanza murmurs, “Gracias a Dios.” Vesper kisses her forehead, "Estoy bien. No te preocupes.” “Daddy!” Mercy (5) and Elías (3) come running out to greet Vesper. Out of the front door steps young Warner Judd, Mae following nervously behind him, a baby (Bonnie) in her arms. They look nothing like a future king and queen: Vesper wears dirty old work clothes, while Mae is in an over-sized t-shirt and jeans. Warner looks to the men who rescued Vesper, “Good job, boys. Go on inside. Mae made chili.” He looks over at Vesper, who spots him, and gives him a dirty look. Vesper speaks softly to Esperanza, “I need to speak with Warner.” Warner smiles as Vesper approaches him, “There’s chili inside.” Vesper, “You should not have done this.” Warner looks at the dried blood on Vesper’s face, “Get cleaned up, first.”
Inside, Mae and Esperanza clean dishes while Elías and Wayne (4) run around. In the living room, several men sit, their guns and packs lined up against the wall. Vesper and Warner sit at the table in heated discussion. Vesper, “You should not have rescued me. I’ve been arrested before, I can handle whatever they’d do to me.” Warner, “Things have changed. We attacked the king where he lives. He’s not gonna let you go any more.” Vesper casts a sad, wary glance over to where little Mercy and Grace sit coloring, “Why did you bring Esperanza and my children into this? I walked in all on my own, I don’t want them getting hurt because of me!” Warner, “You join the fight with us, and leave your family at home. They come in, arrest Esperanza, and send your kids to be raised by someone else. Someone who’s not a believer. There’s nothing worse than that. It’s why I have Mae and my kids here.” Vesper, "You made that decision. Not me." Warner, “Vesper, you are gifted with words, but we cannot fight with words alone.” With the girls, Mercy whispers something to Grace, and then they both giggle, and run off in different directions. Vesper, “I still don't want my children involved with this.” Warner speaks with deadly calm and assurance, “Right now, we are standing before the face of God. We have a chance to build His nation on earth. Are you going to be the man who backed out of that? It’s not about what you want, Vesper.” As Mae and Esperanza dry the last of the dishes, Grace opens the cabinet and gets in. Mae cranes her neck down and looks at her,”What are you doing?” Grace, “I’m hiding!" She shuts the cabinet door. Esperanza goes over to the men, "Would you like some coffee?” Warner, politely, “Coffee would be very nice.” Esperanza turns back to Mae, “Where is the coffee maker?” Mae goes over to the pantry, “I try to keep it right here. Nobody ever puts it back in the right place." The two women search the pantry for the coffee and coffee maker. Warner says in a low voice, “This isn't going to be easy. We will suffer, but we will suffer gladly for Christ." Vesper, “You don't know what suffering is." Suddenly, an explosion bursts through the wall, above where Grace is hiding. Immediately, the men in the living room dive for their guns, including Warner and Vesper. Mae screams, “Grace? Grace?!” Warner runs over to the cabinet and starts shifting through the debris. Elías and Wayne cry and run to their mothers. The other men shoot their guns through windows, doors, and what other spaces are available, and are met with return fire. Mae keeps screaming, “Where is Grace?!” Warner yells back at her, “Get the rest of the kids, and run! Go into the mines! We gotta get out of here!” Mae grabs Esperanza’s arm, “Come with me!” Warner moves a heavy piece of concrete, and he finds Grace, covered in dust, screaming, and bleeding for her ears. He scoops her into his arms. Out back, Mae, Vesper, and Esperanza all struggle to carry their children and run away from the fight. Soldiers fire on them, and Vesper returns fire. Other mothers with their children run with them. One of the mothers, a child in her arms, is hit, and falls. Other men fire back at the soldiers, trying to protect the women. Mae leads them towards towards a rock formation with an entrance on it, “The old silver mine, it’s out escape route, go in there!” Back inside, Warner fires out the front window. He looks around, trying to quickly assess the situation. He makes a decisions and yells at his men, “Retreat, retreat! Get to the mine, hold them off!” He runs out the back door, the men firing back behind him. A good distance in the mine, Mae, Esperanza, and Vesper struggle to light lanterns. Other women and children have joined them. Mae, speaking above the wails of the children, “It’s an old silver mine, we have it all mapped, there’s another exit about five miles south. We can get out there.” Vesper, “And what if they have us blocked off there?!” Mae, “I know Warner has a plan to get us out. I put my faith God.” Vesper, “God won’t help us when this chamber gets flooded with tear gas!” Mae, steadfast, “Warner has a plan.” The sound of another screaming child grows closer, and Mae looks out into the darkness. Warner appears, still holding on to Grace, “We can hold them off, you all need to go in further!” Mae rushes over and tries to take Grace in her arms, “Grace, Grace! Praise God!” Grace clings tighter to Warner as Mae tries to take her. Warner, “Grace, sweetie, let mommy take you.” Grace keeps screaming, crying and clinging to Warner. Finally, Mae wrestles her away, and Grace wails, “Daddy! Daddy!” Mae tries to console her, but touches the blood coming from her ears, “Her ears are bleeding!” Warner, “Deal with that later, you have to get to safety, now! There’s food stores about a mile in, I’ll meet you there!” Esperanza tries to say, “A mile?!” but Warner runs off. Mae goes into he cave. Another woman shines a small flashlight to find a small cluster of lanterns. She picks two up and hands one to Mae and one to Esperanza. Mae holds hers up, “Come on.” The group marches forward while a gun battle carries on behind them. The children cry. Mae carries Grace, who still whines and cries. Esperanza carries Bonnie in her arms. Mercy marches beside her holding Elías’s hand. Wayne walks beside Mae, crying and carrying on, “Mama, I’m tiiiired!" Mae, the crying grating on her nerves, “I know you're tired Wayne! We’re all tired! You just have to be a brave soldier and keep going!” Mercy reaches over and takes Wayne's hand. He stops whining but wipes tears from his face. Mercy looks up at Mae and asks softly, "Is Grace okay?” Mae, “She’s fine. Just got a bump on the head is all.” Grace keeps wailing in Mae’s arms. Mae tries to comfort her, “Grace, baby, stop crying. Grace? Grace!” Grace doesn’t notice, and keeps wailing. Esperanza, “Did she rupture her eardrums?” Mae, “How the hell am I supposed to know?!” Esperanza, “She needs a doctor!” Mae, “Well, we don’t have a doctor, do we?! Wayne, stop crying!” Wayne keeps crying. Mercy, still holding on to Elías, goes over to Wayne, and takes his hand. Wayne looks up at her with big, wet eyes. Mercy gives him a gentle, brave smile, “Don’t be scared.”
Grainy home video (insp: David Koresh home video), Warner sits with Grace in his lap. Mae is at his side, Bonnie in her lap, and Wayne in between them. Warner, “My name is Warner Judd. This is my wife, Mae, and our children, Grace, Wayne, and Bonnie,” he turns to Wayne, “Say hello.” Wayne shyly waves his hand, “Hi.” Warner, “My wife and my children are only alive now by the grace of God, because King Allen and his troops attacked our compound, our home, with reckless disregard for their lives. Grace is my oldest, she’s six years old. Her eardrums were ruptured in the attack, and she has been rendered deaf. It has been claimed that I am a dangerous man, but what danger could a six year old little girl possibly pose to anyone, let along a powerful king with an entire army protecting him? I will defend my family when it is attacked. A king who attacks children is not a just king. Any man who attacks children is wicked to his core. But we already knew this about Allen White. For years, I fought for him in Central America, and I have seen first-hand the greed and barbarity with which he rules. HE cannot provide these beautiful children with the future they deserve. Right now, I have to ask the people of Ammon, are we going to let this happen? If there is anyone in this country with a conscience, anyone who calls himself Christian, he must stand up and declare that Allen White is no longer king. Those who do nothing take the side of tyranny. Allen White is no longer our king. God is our true king. And we are afraid of nothing.” Behind the camera, Vesper holds up cue cards. He nods and says, "Good job."
In his palace, King Allen reviews the video, with Prince Richard and a bunch of other advisors and generals around him. Allen, “This is ridiculous! He’s deliberately putting his children in danger by keeping them with him!” Richard speaks up, “There’s arrest warrants out for the mothers, as well. Maybe we should give them some sort of deal that lets the mothers stay with their kids in a safe place.” Allen, “I’m not coddling terrorists. They made their choices, now they have to live with them. When people are trying to destroy us, the worst thing we can possibly do is show any sign of weakness.”
Vesper sits in a tent, listening to the radio. King Allen gives and address, “Anyone who attacks me will be met with violence!” Vesper gets up and goes outside. He walks along a line of tents, all set up as an active rebel army camp, until he reaches the end and goes inside. Inside, Warner flips through a children’s sign language book, with several more on the table. He yells at the guys who brought them, “How the hell is she supposed to learn to communicate from these?! She was just learning to read, and look, look at this diagram! He flops the book down at the table, “How the hell am I supposed to do that?” He tries to recreate the sign confusingly illustrated in the book. Vesper speaks up, “Warner.” Warner, “Not now Vesper!” He continues to yell at the guys who brought the books, “She needs an actual teacher! We all need an actual teacher!” Guy, “Do you mean like… we should kidnap someone?” Warner, “Do whatever the hell we have to do. I’m not letting Grace go without language.” Vesper, more insistent, “Warner, Allen’s on the radio, vowing to destroy us.” Warner shoots him a dirty look, “So what else is new? Do you really think he’s gonna just sit back and let us take over? He’s gonna bring a fight, and we’re ready for it.” Vesper, "Do you have any idea what we're going to do next?" Warner, "What, next?" Vesper, "We can’t just kill Allen and declare ourselves in charge." Warner, "You figure that out! I have my own things to deal with now!”
Warner takes Grace into a tent, where he sets her on a seat. He kneels down so that he’s eye to eye with her. Warner, softly, “Grace, Grace, look at me….” She looks down at her feet. Warner gently touches her face to get her attention. he points from her eyes to his face, “Look at me.” She looks at him. He smiles, “Good girl.” He points to himself, “I,” he crosses his arms over his chest in the sign for love, “Love," he points to Grace, “You. Understand?" He repeats his actions, “I love you. Come on, You do it,” he makes the signs, "I love you." Grace mimics his actions. A huge smile breaks out over Warner's face, "Good girl! I love you!” He repeats the signs, and Grace repeats them after him. She smiles brightly and signs I love you on her own. Warner, “Yeah, you got this! I love you!” He makes the signs, and she repeats them. Warner hugs her tightly and kisses her on the head, “Good girl, good girl.”
A massive protest in front of the palace of Ammon. Riot troops for a long, dark, menacing line in front of the palace. Inside, Allen watches it all. He turns to his top official, "Enough of this. Open fire.” (“God’s Gonna Cut You Down” Johnny Cash) Below, the troops begin to fire on the protesters, who run away in panic, screaming on horror. In the chaos, a few protesters pull out guns and begin to fight back. The scene turns into a bloody shootout. In a tent, Esperanza gives birth with Mae attending. Mae places newborn Isolda into Esperanza’s arms, and Mercy and Elías rush in to see their new sister. Warner stands in the back of a transport vehicle. In the middle of the night, the Christian Front launches an attack on a small Ammonian army base. Warner courageously leads the charge. In his fancy palace apartment living room Prince Richard watches the news. The headline reads “Christian Front takes control of army base.” Zachary sits on the couch, anxiously looking at his father for reassurance. In a damaged building, a teacher teaches Grace, Mercy, Wayne, and Elías sign language. There’s a sudden movement out the window, and the teacher looks up, tense and worried. The kids once again get rushed out of the camp, terrified and under fire. Vesper reads to a gathered crowd of weary troops, “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.” Mae sets a tiny, home-made, un-frosted cake with five lit candles in front of Wayne. He blows the candles out. A building in a city blows up. In a makeshift hospital, Mercy and Grace help Esperanza bandage up wounded soldiers. Warner shows a slightly older-looking Wayne how to shoot a gun. A slightly older Grace holds her own new baby sister (Mackynzie) and a now-toddler Bonnie while Mae helps build bombs. Richard and Zachary get driven through a city. Their car turns a corner, and they are met with the grisly image of a highly overpass with several bloodied bodies hanging from it. Richard immediately starts telling the driver to turn around. Zachary can’t take his eyes away. Esperanza huddles with Mercy, Elías, and Isolda in a leaking tent. Mae holds a pot out while Wayne and Warner butcher a deer. Grace shows Bonnie how to brush her teeth. Vesper prays over a row of bodies in bloody sheets. Warner stands in in the back of a crowded transport, holding on to something for safety, a bible in his free hand, “With God’s help, I can advance against a troop, with my God, I can scale a wall. It is God who arms me with strength and makes my way perfect. The LORD lives! Praise be to my Rock! Exalted be God, my Rock, my Savior!”  Zachary, now about fifteen, is hurried onto a waiting helicopter with his mother and grandmother, suitcases in hand, “Dad, what's going on?” Richard, "You just need to go. We’re sending you somewhere safe. You’re gonna be alright.” Below, the Christian Front launches a final assault against King Allen. Allen sits in his office, contemplating everything coming to an end around him, the sound of gunfire coming through the walls. The door bursts open, and Warner calmly walks in. He and Allen stare at each other for a moment. Warner, “Your time has come.”
In the ruined palace room. Allen and Richard kneel, their hands bound before them. Warner and Vesper stand behind them, Warner holding a gun. Nine-year-old Wayne stands off to the side. Soldiers of the Christian Front stand watching in anticipation.
0 notes
kelolon · 7 years
Text
On “Agape”
(Or, The Closest I’ll Ever Get to Meta, Probably)
This is like some kind of weird, disjointed masterpost on why I love Agape. It’s not particularly deep or thought-provoking and it has a lot of bad words (sorry) - I’m not the best at this stuff. But it’s something I felt like writing about, so here we are. Enjoy! (Or don’t, see if I care.)
6/22/17: Updated with info from the guidebook!
So. Agape.
Tumblr media
Where to even start? I love everything about Agape. The song, the choreography, the overall message - it’s far and away my favorite program. Please allow me to talk about it at unnecessary length.
Yuri: “Damn it. Who cares about agape?”
Me, that’s who.
The official stuff
The guidebook has this to say about Agape (this is a somewhat rough translation - feel free to correct!):
With unconditional love as its theme (in opposition to Eros) is the impressive "In Regards to Love ~Agape~", with its boy soprano overflowing with the feeling of translucence. When he was assigned the song by Victor, Yuri said "this innocent image makes me wanna barf," but during his mandatory trip to a waterfall, memories of his time with his grandfather surfaced, and he put those feelings into the program. He had realized that the feelings from when he was very young and he skated to see the joy on his grandfather's face were agape. From the choreography, it was said to be "made in the image of things like a white bird or something holy (Miyamoto)", so it feels light as a feather, and yet you can also feel the strength of the will of someone who has something to sacrifice.
There's beauty in the limit of what can only be done "now" with an androgynous appearance. It's an earnestly flexible and delicate program, but the jump composition includes two quads in the second half, putting it at a high level and prompting Yuuri to name him "a beautiful, ever-evolving monster." Although the triple axel is in the first half, you could say that the program composition is challenging for Yuri, who is still young and lacks stamina. Also, in the same way as Yuuri's "Eros", the filler between components is strong, making it a difficult program as well. With a firm foundation in ballet thrown in, movement is in the orthodox Russian skater way, and the costume can't be overlooked.
The concept
What is agape? baby don’t hurt me Okay no, this is serious shit. It’s one of at least four Greek words for love, two of which should be immediately recognizable to YOI fans (the other being eros, of course). The Internet Encyclopedia of Philosophy has a lot to say about love, including agape-flavored love:
Agape refers to the paternal love of God for man and of man for God but is extended to include a brotherly love for all humanity. [...] Agape arguably draws on elements from both eros and philia in that it seeks a perfect kind of love that is at once a fondness, a transcending of the particular, and a passion without the necessity of reciprocity.
Beautiful, right? Almost brings a tear to your eye. Or maybe that’s just me. Anyway, I feel like this sets the stage pretty well. Agape evokes certain themes: purity, selflessness, clarity, innocence. Not necessarily traits that embody Yuri as a character, but that’s what makes it interesting, isn’t it? (I’ll go into this more later.)
The song
Yuuri: “It’s very clear and innocent, like someone who doesn’t know what love is yet.”
Holy shit. I really, really love this song. I can listen to it over and over and have done so many times. It’s just gorgeous. I do enjoy Eros, too, but something about Agape just really resonates with me. I’m going to punctuate this liberally with lyrics (fun fact: music with lyrics wasn’t allowed in ISU competition until 2014), which I have taken from the YOI wikia in the case of the Latin-English translation. The Japanese-English ones were done by me.
Since my life is only temporary, it desires ardently the eternal love
The translation of this line from Japanese to English (rather than Latin to English) is somewhat different:
This life, driven by passion, is like the briefest flicker I pray for an eternal love
The addition of “driven by passion” is fitting (as opposed to the Latin’s use of “desires ardently”). It makes it seem a little more forthcoming, which is very appropriate for Yuri, who is very obviously driven by passion.
I will believe, I will give, I will wait, I will honor I will work, I will give thanks
Here, too, the Japanese-English translation differs slightly:
I believe, I sacrifice, I seek, I revere, I bear it and I give thanks
I feel like these lyrics in particular do speak to him at least a little. When you remove the religious connotations (whether or not he’s actually religious at all seems to be up for debate - personally, I take the giant, gaudy cross necklace he wears in WttM with an equally giant grain of salt), a lot of these words ring true. Sacrifice? Check. This kid provides for his family, who he rarely gets to see, and has little in the way of friends. Work? Double check. He’s been busting his ass almost his whole life. The waiting part is iffy, but I guess I have to give him credit for holding off on doing quads while still in the junior bracket, even if that was only to get Victor to choreograph his next program. It totally counts.
And at the end, opening doors hidden to us, solemn and famous, it will take care of us to us, solemn and famous, it will take care of us
And the Japanese version:
At last the hidden door is exposed God's great spirit appears, bringing with it pure healing
Clearly, the second is more explicit when it comes to the religious themes. I think in some ways the Japanese version kind of expands on the Latin version, which seems a little more vague.
One can certainly speculate that there are death themes at play in this song, with death presumably being the “hidden door.” The final two verses can be interpreted to be a reference to death as well (the Japanese version is not much different, so I’ll only share the Latin):
The grand, grand Mercy. Ah! I hear your voice My freedom is near! My life with love, the peace of benevolence That this is the eternal happiness, I pray.
The only real difference between the Latin and Japanese versions are that "Mercy" is replaced with "god's love" in Japanese. Whether this “eternal happiness” refers to something like the afterlife is probably subject to interpretation unless there’s some translated commentary floating around that I haven’t seen (which is certainly possible).
On the other hand, it could just be some kind of reference to opening your heart to God’s love or whatever. Who knows? Not me, clearly. 
Tumblr media
Yuri: “Switch them! That piece isn’t me at all!” Victor: “You have to do the opposite of what people expect. How else will you surprise them?”
Yuri makes it no secret that he doesn't care for this song. He's Not Into It. When Victor plays it for him and Yuuri for the first time, he proclaims that "this innocence crap makes [him] want to barf." He wants Eros, but of course that's not how Victor assigns them and he winds up with Agape. This is the part where I admit I'm really glad, because Yuri is my favorite character and Agape is my favorite program. What can I say.
The choreography
How do you take a song (and concept) like Agape and a character like Yuri and make it actually work? The program itself, of course. Choreographed by Victor (as he originally promised), it does a fantastic job of turning an angry little hellspawn of a teen into the embodiment of the highest form of love.
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
(Please excuse my extremely fake photoset - tumblr will not let me do what I want. Thanks tumblr.)
The program begins with him facing the ground, and then reaching up towards the sky. Possibly to a higher power? As the program comes to an end, he’s got both arms extended upwards, hands clasped together as if in prayer. That makes it a little less ambiguous, especially considering the song closes with the words esse oro, or “I pray.” 
The program composition is as follows, according to the official guidebook:
Triple axel Flying sit spin Change-foot camel spin Quadruple salchow/triple toe loop Quadruple toe loop Step sequence Combination spin
It also notes that the planned components were not changed for the Grand Prix Final.
You can watch the choreography as performed by a real person on the second BD, and you can also watch Johnny Weir do part of it on Instagram!
The costume
Tumblr media
Yuuko: "It's the see-through costume of legend from Victor's junior days! I never thought I'd see it in person! It's so beautiful..."
I don’t know what to say here. It’s pretty. Look at it. (It’s my phone case.) I do think it’s worth noting the vague cross shape over the chest and the fact that the shoulders look somewhat like angel wings, tying into the religious themes of the song.
The part where I ramble aimlessly
Yuuri: "Everyone's drawn into Yurio's agape performance. I can tell it's completely different from what I saw in practice. No one can look away from this beautiful, ever-evolving monster!"
I think the fact that Agape is at such odds with Yuri's personality has a lot to do with why I enjoy it so much. He's called "a beautiful monster," and aside from the implication that his off-ice persona is quite different from what he typically exhibits on the ice (with the obvious exception of Welcome to the Madness, which is basically him going “hahaha, fuck you” and finally doing what he wants - I highly recommend reading @ice-tiger-kitten​‘s fantastic WttM meta!), Agape (and Allegro, I guess) really embodies the “beautiful” part of that, whereas the monster comes out in WttM. Agape is very ethereal and angelic, playing into his “Fairy” nickname quite well. Which he undoubtedly hates, but hey. I happen to enjoy it. In the end, the “Punk” nickname comes out on top, anyway - WttM cemented that pretty solidly.
Tumblr media
Yuri: “Agape... unconditional love. To me, that means grandpa.”
With that said, I don’t think Agape is that outlandish a choice for him. He did find his “agape” in his grandpa, after all. It takes him a little while to realize it - and even longer to really embrace it - but it’s a perfect example of unconditional love. It’s when he’s with his grandpa that we get to see what he’s like underneath all the prickly bullshit. He may not form relationships easily, but I think when he loves someone, he really loves someone. Maybe not unconditionally, but it’s obviously a mistake to think he doesn’t feel things besides anger and arrogance. Aside from the scenes where he’s with (or thinking about) his grandpa, he also shows this side of him when he goes out of his way to bring Yuuri pirozhki on his birthday and in his friendship with Otabek, who he actually roots for in spite of their inherent rivalry. Honestly, that’s a post of its own for another day, but I think it’s worth mentioning.
Yuri: “Sorry, grandpa. I'm too busy trying to skate the program to really think about agape at all!”
At Yuri’s first performance of Agape at Hasetsu, his performance is technically correct, but the “agape” feeling isn’t there, and he winds up losing to Yuuri. The next time we see it, at the Rostelecom Cup, he’s thrown off when he discovers his grandpa can’t stay to watch his performance and becomes angry, falling on a jump he hasn’t screwed up in a long time. In his inner monologue, he claims that he’s “not feeling agape at all.”
Despite the initial difficulty getting into it, though, Yuri nails Agape during the Final and manages to break Victor’s world record short program score. If he was simply going through the motions, stringing together jumps and spins, he would not have scored as highly as he did. This isn’t to say he doesn’t employ strategies to maximize his points (like backloading programs and doing Tano/Rippon jump variations, aka the thing where you raise one/both arms in the air), but there are elements of IJS scoring that focus on presentation - the program components score, which includes the following:
Performance/Execution: Performance is the involvement of the skater/couple/teams physically, emotionally and intellectually as they translate the intent of the music and choreography. Execution is the quality of movement and precision in delivery.
The performance aspect of this score includes “style and individuality/personality.” In addition, choreography is scored based on things like “purpose (idea, concept, vision)” and interpretation is based on the following:
Effortless movement in time to the music
Expression of the music's style, character, rhythm
Use of finesse to reflect the nuances of the music
Needless to say, if Yuri wasn’t able to pull off the concept of Agape, his scores would have suffered. It can certainly be argued that it’s just the performer in him that gets the job done, but I think the fact that he becomes able to infuse his own feelings into the program is what closes the gap.
Lilia: "His short program will have 'agape' as its theme. I believe he's found an entrance to 'love' through his many encounters with others. People shine brightest when they seek to understand what kind of love sustains them."
He may not like it - indeed, when left to his own devices, he does things like WttM, which could not be more different from Agape - but it works. They both do, somehow. He really does make Agape his own, and it’s completely believable.
Tumblr media
...Well. Mostly.
32 notes · View notes