#flashback so this makes some more sense
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“things were so hard with dad in recent years...how did he go from paparapluie to père? i wish i could face him and understand, but while he was still here i didn't dare try to tell him [any of my feelings] and now...it's too late.” * paparapluie is a pun on the words papa and parapluie (umbrella) since the plush is a frog. père is the french word for 'father.'
#ml spoilers#ml s6 spoilers#miraculous spoilers#ml el toro de piedra#mledit#miraculous#miraculous ladybug#miraculous lb#miraculousedit#adrien agreste#adrienette#adrinette#my edits#fascinated at umbrellas constantly being a motif for protection in this show. the theme is “in the rain” because marinette fell for adrien#in the rain but he offered her an umbrella (an act of kindness and protection from the weather). next to how#adrien's father used a pun about umbrellas as his own nickname when adrien was younger and he was still caring for him as a dad should#but as he got older his father stopped protecting him so the nickname (and also any form of 'papa') fell through in favor of the#cold + formal + distant 'père.' this specific pun between parapluie and papa might also come from the french poem un papa by pierre ruaud#which is a poem about papas serving as protection and a sort of shelter for their children. so ig ml is saying gabriel started this way too#i think the fandom glosses over the complexity of adrien's feelings for his father bc in earlier seasons he defended + made excuses for him#part of this is because he was sheltered + didn't know better but it's also bc he DOES recall a time before his mother's illness grew worse#(some time between age 6 and the werepapas flashback) when he didn't have an absentee father. the show writes gabriel agreste#inconsistently: in earlier seasons he had moments of concern for his son before he became awful all the time. and these on/off moments give#adrien whiplash because he's left doing things like becoming a model for his father (i'm choosing to believe gabriel didn't use the rings#until later bc much of the earlier seasons make no sense if he was controlling adrien) in the hopes that they'll bond only to realize#his father still won't spend time with him even for a meal. s5 has gabriel making him pancakes (the wrong way) and asking about his day#and his friends and interests only for him to become even more controlling and mean. how he let him quit modeling only to create an#AI version of him without his consent and when he said that made him feel uncomfortable gabriel convinced him it was fine bc now he had#more free time! only to still control how he spent that free time. adrien didn't start grappling with these things until s5#and now he laments the things he never actually got to say about the papa he misses and the father he wished had unconditionally loved him
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thinking about how ~the arcane~ in s2 which definitely wasn't just a rebrand of the void with targonian stuff thrown in for some reason was dealt with and getting mad about it again because the roots of a poisoned tree short story exists.
some mysterious magic related corruption of unknown origin spontaneously appearing deep underground that's affecting zaun environmentally? check. a powerful magic entity showing up to warn those who discovered it of its danger? check. the narrator recalling icathia, a lost city that became a dead wasteland after being consumed by the void, meaning that could be zaun and piltover's future if they don't come together to address the issue? check. boom, plot point achieved with no multiverse, no time loops, no demonization of hextech sending an anti science message, and no ripoff age of ultron final battle necessary since they could tie it all back to shimmer which was pretty obviously connected to the void.
#arcane#arcane critical#listen a shimmer chem spill is the perfect reason for viktor to make blitzcrank and it could later lead to the firelight tree contamination#and we could get heimerdinger and singed character defining flashbacks ft orianna lore AND we could get warwick flashbacks about what it wa#like working in the mines. also I think it would've made more sense for orianna to be dead dead instead of being in stasis bc why else woul#singed speak about her in past tense to silco in s1. basically orianna would use her og release lore where the real girl was dead and#the clockwork lady was a replica created by her father out of madness bc singed didn't need to make warwick a giant killing machine if he#just wanted the regen properties so I think warwick originally had nothing to do w orianna but the writers changed it for some reason#basically in my head orianna wasn't dead yet but was dying while kid viktor worked with singed and maybe parts of her body were being#replaced but the technology to do 2016 lore orianna didn't exist and upon seeing viktor's reaction to rio he realizes how cruel it would be#to do that to his own child. he does tell silco 'sometimes death is a mercy' after all#ANYWAY something something environmentalism and how it changes people and can create monsters#mine
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so kuukou as a tengu and why it’s neat from a buddhism point lol
monks who practice shugendo, mountain asceticism, are called yamabushi!!!! for these monks, mountains are revered as gods and symbolic of the buddha and do all of their ascetic training in the mountains and practice worship using nature itself!!!!
when yamabushi monks begin their ascetic training, it’s their belief that they’re going thru a reincarnation. the yamabushi typically when training wear white for this reason; in jp, when you die, you’re dressed in white robes, but it’s also true that when you’re born, you’re swaddled in white clothing. that white is both purity and symbolic of the reincarnation you go thru starting your mountain training
some aspects of that mountain training are food and sleep deprivation. by pushing oneself to the limits of human life, it’s there humans find incredible power within themselves is the belief. once upon a time ago lol, many became shugendo practitioners to try to unlock supernatural abilities
for these monks, tengu, who are depicted protectors of buddhism, traverse the mountains with ease and come with supernatural powers, are kinda like the ideal beings for the yamabushi lol
and so lol!!!! you have kuukou!!!!! whose temple resides in the mountains!!!!!! practices his asceticism by depriving himself of food and sleep and meditates amongst nature!!!!! has been described as pure and sings of reincarnation!!!! he’s even supernaturally powerful!!!! and is doing his best to make buddhism thrive in new ways, thusly protecting his religion lol!!!!
kuukou is a tengu!!!!!!
#vee queued to fill the void#there’s a lot more to it too lol tengu were likely imported imagery from china to japan#and were akin to bringing disasters (tengu as yokai still have that connotation outside of buddhism)#tengu have also been shown to fight and prevent disasters#kuukou is a harbinger of disaster lmao and also is a protector from disasters#i think read somewhere tengu are connected to the sun in some way but i can’t find where i did lol#there’s two types of tengu as pictured in the statue ms but without going into details kuukou is mainly a crow tengu#but like kuukou’s buddhism lmao his outfit contains elements of both#i thought the reincarnation thing was kinda interesting to apply to kuukou lol#like the only time we’ve seen pre-monk kuukou was in a flashback#so if kuukou went thru a reincarnation via his religion it’d make sense why we haven’t seen any of his life before that point#like that kuukou might effectively be dead as far as kuukou’s concerned#i read a spoiler tho that in the shinjiru chikara mv there’s a scene where bat’s surrounded by a bunch of scrolls of suffering iirc#like people’s suffering were written on them#op said tho bat each had their own scroll and it seemed more connected to their pasts#op thinks kuukou’s scroll read ‘empty’ and then bat ripped up those scrolls of their past (suffering)#buddhism has a lot of concepts surrounding emptiness#emptying of self for enlightenment/emptying of self to take in the world around you unobstructed#and kuukou’s shown those concepts in canon lol#(you can also maybe read kuukou getting brainwashed as an emptying of self even tho it was of his own volition btw)#but if kuukou’s past and suffering comes from ‘empty’ i wonder which angle that takes lol#kuukou was empty???? kuukou was emptied and reborn like the yamabushi practice????? questions questions lol 🤔
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I miss them so bad (Dick and Damian)
#ramblings of a lunatic#dc comics#damian wayne#dick grayson#ITS JUST NOT THE SAME MAN#idk i was reading nightwing must die (again...) bc i was in a funk and saw another post saying how fans exaggerate the closeness btwn them#and on the one hand i get it. there is a very rosy portrayal of their relationship you'll come across in fanon#and they weren't very close at the beginning of their relationship#but man. reading Nightwing must die again was like#YES they fight. damian instigates it and while dick tries to exercise patience he does fight back/lash out on occasion#but despite all that it's still emphasized how important the two are to each other#when dick is forced to picture a future where he's lost his way he pictures damian being the one to bring him back#not necessarily bc damian is his favorite person on the planet but bc he gave damian robin. for a lot of practical reasons-#-but also bc how far damians come is (i think at least based on this arc) a testament to dick that hes doing Something right#both as a hero/person#damian is more than just a burden saddled on him (although there's an element of that in their batman and robin run)#he's also a last remaining connection to bruce when he's gone (remembering where he comes from) AND he's training damian+#-his own way! with a dash of tough love and workaholic spirit inherited but also a lot of patience and focus on being More than the darkness#idc what ppl say nightwing must die makes sense for these two. its a retcon but one that works imo#that dick buried his head in the sand about how much damian meant/the responsibility he had to him bc it was a commitment he was afraid of#and how damian ultimately was a point of maturation for dick even if he went back to being Nightwing#they were SO goddamn close and now they're still close but only in ways that are implied#and their bond is deemphasized in comparison to each others bond w/ say bruce. which i think is a shame#it was a wrinkle! a fun wrinkle that the batfamily had that in some ways dick understood damian better than Bruce-#-even if he didn't feel like he could handle the responsibility of raising him full time#it kills me that bc of the n52 we never got the handover of the batman mantle (and damian) from dick to bruce#next nightwing writer...include a flashback to that moment AND have damian appear in the book in present....AND MY LIFE IS YOURS!!!#anyway. dick is damians brother but also damian a little bit imprinted on him like a baby duck and its rubbed off on dick#they're partners they're mentor mentee but most importantly they were batman and robin. and they were the greatest#NOT bc it was all peaches and roses but bc they cared for each other exponentially despite all that
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"i could keep going about wellington/alone but then its gonna start getting psychological" ooooh you want to get psychological 🌀🌀🌀 oooooh you want to share wellington/alone clem analysis 🌀🌀🌀🌀
oooohh you know i always want to get psychological anon

i feel like the wellington/alone endings are the two strongest endings for both s2 and clems character. i feel like s2 is about her learning to stand on her own. learning what she wants. learning to let go. to recognize the unstable person kenny has become (and that jane isnt so great either). bonnie tells clem to start thinking about what it is She wants, to not just follow others (who repeatedly let her down), and that maybe theres another way (ie: be the one calling the shots for once). its about clem believing in herself and her ability now that shes spent an entire season carrying the cast on her back, and fighting for respect from those same people who dont give it to her because shes still just a kid (a kid who has proven herself to be incredibly capable)
imo the kenny and jane s3 flashbacks are pretty weak and just feel like we’re dragging out their characters past their expiration dates (plus all the “youre such a good mom, clem” talk they both do really irks me 🙄 theres a difference between a character actively choosing to become a guardian and a character being told what a good guardian they are (when theyre still a child themselves with an actual adult still present). alone clem has no one to rely on but herself and she Wants to look out for aj. she needs him as much as he needs her because he gives her something to fight for. hes all she has left). kenny being so happy and talking about boats is wild to me after everything he does in s2. and so is jane killing herself before even trying to induce a miscarriage. They both still die and clem still ends up alone anyway. why not make her active in that decision? so, can she shoot or not? will she stay with someone she knows isnt completely reliable? or will she stand on her own?
honestly narratively i like the alone ending a lot for s2, because it feels like her fully realized arc for the season. being able to stand on her own, to make the hard choices. knowing what she wants for herself, or at least what she Doesnt want. wellington is just better for her and ajs wellbeing so i consider it the "good" alone ending since the actual alone ending is the hardest position clem is left in. wellington ending kenny knows hes no longer fit to take care of her, recognizing the unstable and violent person he has become, and again clem is put in the position of making the choice to stand on her own. also wellington was what her and christa were looking for since the beginning, so narratively it still feels fulfilling for a clem who couldnt pull the trigger. i think it would be really hard for her to shoot kenny, so while i like the alone ending, i also like her not being able to make the call in time, paralyzed by choice (you dont have to shoot to still get the alone ending, just choose to walk away, but if shes going to walk away id rather her do it at wellington). either way its a choice she'll have to live with, and i do like the idea of her having regrets for not being able to make a choice in the moment, and letting jane die because she just couldnt shoot kenny. and how that perceived failure impacts her decisions in the future (like with the javi david fight in s3, her actions being impacted by her choice in s2)
which all ties in nicely to: the implications in regards to vi shooting minnie to save clem in s4. a clem who couldnt shoot and a vi who could. the fear clem would have in that situation, knowing she herself couldnt pull the trigger on someone she cared about to save someone else she also cared about. i think a clem who shot kenny would still have that fear, knowing the position vi is in at that moment, but a clem who couldnt shoot i think emotionally carries more weight. it emphasizes her uncertainty in what violet might choose (or fail to choose in time. because its not necessarily about choosing not to shoot. its will she hesitate long enough for it to not matter? just like with jane and kenny). which just makes it all the more satisfying when vi IS able to make that choice in time, and is able to save them both in the process (something clem herself only learned after s2)
#twdg#the way s4 does parallels and callbacks is so fucking good#wish we couldve seen kenny fill the carver role. they still tried to do it but the s3 flashback ruins it 🙄 like did he totally break or not#let kenny suck !!!!#when i picked the “lee shouldve never looked for me 😔” option to lean into clems depression AND KENNY THREATED TO SMACK HER FOR IT#that was it for me theres no return for that man. and he recognizes it too!!! but then s3 says “nvm hes fine now :)”#like the whole excuse for kenny is “he protects his family by any means necessary” which falls apart the minute he threatens clem#the dialogue around s2 kenny is that of recognizing him as the abuser he has become “hed never hit Me” he would apparently. by admission#i need kenny and jane to stay in s2. clem ends up alone regardless and id rather explore that more#i used to be more of a kenny defender mostly because the kenny stans scared me 😭 but nah after he threatens her its over for me#i enjoy his character for what it is in seasons 1 and 2. but a lot of his fans justify and excuse his behavior. hes scary as fuck !!!#like almost Every character in this series is some form of fucked up asshole thats the fun!! but only peoples faves are allowed to be jerks#sorry it took me a while to respond to this one anon i hope u see it#does this all make sense? i hope it makes sense. ive been doing nothing but animating for over a month and my brain is mush#replies with lexi#incognito
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ngl it sort of pisses me off the way adults regard Gojo in Jujutsu Kaisen at times. Which could be a very interesting and poignant point in a good way if well written, but as it is it becomes mainly just frustrating and sad in a negative way.
Nanami saying Gojo never cared about anything or anyone other than himself crashes interestingly with Kusakabe saying the whole situation was just all his fault because he refused to kill Itadori. The students are very aware of those aspects of Gojo's personality, but overall they seem to regard him with way more kindness and fondness even when at their rudest, not truly coinciding with either Nanami's or Kusakabe's views.
#Kusakabe's words are harsh and negative but there's some true and some logic to them#but in beholding the entire story and the whole context‚ especially with the flashbacks in mind‚ in getting to know the sweet kid Yuuji is‚#the reader is made to find Kusakabe's words a bit outrageous and cruel and Gojo's position becomes the obvious one like Nanami's was#Like Kusakabe's is too in a way since he too says no matter what it's always the adults' fault whatever the cause was#And following the story we see Gojo cared a lot about those kids and them keeping their youthful cheerfulness if in his very flippant way#That's basically his main constant thread. We see it at the very beginning in what he did for Yuta and how Yuta is so fond of him#We see him at the very end in a way too with the letters he left#And his entire motivation was changing the very messed up society to avoid the kids going through what he and his friends went through#and to prevent them from being lonely the way he felt he was. Ontologically alienated. Entirely othered#And of course it's in part him keeping people away like Shoko. Or even Yuta (though here again it's at the core of his action his attempt#at protecting the kids and trying to prevent them from growing too fast)#And of course this is motivated by his own experiences and in that sense not entirely a selfless act#But those things still don't negate that his goal was for the future kids to be... in a better situation than what he and his friends lived#So Nanami's words are very cruel and... blind. Of course it's possible that Gojo's way of approaching the problem is still something#Nanami would regard as selfish (but it could be argued that so is Nanami's)‚ or that Gojo's perception of Nanami's way of thinking#about him would be this negative. But what we see through the story absolutely contradict Nanami's words in that airport#And though both Nanami's words and Kusakabe's are negative in regards to Gojo‚ they in a way contradict each other#The kids' words and way of seeing Gojo is most of the time more... accurate? If also diverse among them#They see him like an idiot. They trust him. They think he's childish and annoying. They love him#They find him flippant. They know he cares about them. In a way they see both what Kusakabe and Nanami say about him#The negative. And the ultimate positive aspect at the core of it all. That Gojo did care and that Gojo did take care#and that Gojo risked and sacrificed a lot for them and that Gojo was doing this in great part because of his own past#Yuta perhaps is the one who sees it best but it's so interesting too the dynamic Maki‚ Yuuji and Megumi have with Gojo‚ his acts and antics#And this whole thing‚ this frivolous and even... cruel way most adults seem to regard Gojo and how it clashes with the kids' deep feelings#about him (beyond the initial 'he's an untrustworthy idiot' though those as well!') is super interesting and super sad and super juicy#OR IT COULD BE bc in the end all that happens is that Nanami says that and Gojo pouts comically or that Kusakabe makes that offhand comment#as if it held no weight‚ as if Yuji weren't present and had never agonised over it‚ as if Gojo hadn't lost his life trying to save the kid#And yes he risked more than his life but he was trying to save a kid bc another kid (bc Megumi!) asked. But maybe it didn't matter if no one#asked. He saved Yuta too. Of course he would have risked it all. In his mix of selfishness and selflessness. Everything is so juicy#yet the writing feels so dry and lame. There's no pondering. There's talk of guilt and grief without any true sense of grieving or loss
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No idea what route they're gonna go for Kana5 but I do think that it would be absolutely hilarious if it was the most fluff a prsk key story has ever been, especially after all EN has been theorizing is that it's going to be absolutely devastating and have irreversible effects on Kanade's psyche

#I watched the trailer and honestly I do think it can go either way#I do think it wouldn't make sense for Kana5 to be super intense considering they JUST wrapped up the arc of Mizu5#I would expect that it'd be similar vibes to Mafu5 where it's more bittersweet than anything but they did also kinda do that with Kana4 ish#Just generally Kanade events have a balance of hurt/comfort#So it'd be weird for them to fully lean in one way especially considering that is what they literally Just Did#I don't doubt that there will be some connection to events of Mizu5 and Ena5 since allat was just. A lot.#Who knows maybe Kanade realizes she's gotten too comfy with the status quo and commits to her saviour complexisms again idk#tbf tho I don't really remember much of Kana4 outside of the flashbacks because those were. Wow. /pos#So maybe I'm missing an obvious route they're gonna take#But also who knows ENprsk fans love blowing things up out of proportion in terms of angstifying everything#(seriously why do these kids think/want everything to end with a My Time moment)#anyways#papr yaps#<- frfr#maybe it's actually a real good thing that the new theme puts my tags in a separate tab of the post because wow I Do Be Yapping Here
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i don't know if i think it's really funny or kind of a shame that many people are going to know tadaima okaeri solely as "the omegaverse bl" when it's actually such a sweet slice-of-life about community, family, the struggles of the older generation to understand the younger and vice versa, recovering from social isolation and how recursive that recovery can be, forging lasting friendships as adults, and so on. it's so wholesome and drama-free that it barely has any plot to speak of, but what it lacks in plot it makes up for in themes and man. what beautiful themes
#since my recent reread i've been giving more thought to why i like it SO much#because on the surface it really is just fluff#and i love fluff! but usually require some substance to be completely invested in something#and hoooooo boy am i invested#and i think yeah it's the themes. the friendships the community the intergenerational family tensions that are resolved#in such a satisfying way to me#but yeah of course it is also the omegaverse bl lol#iirc my first read years back of only the first volume left me like ''awh that was super cute'' but it was not memorable#and that makes sense bc it's the community that takes shape in later volumes as the rest of the cast enter their lives#that really appeals to me#anyway! random thinky thoughts before bed#i'm already seeing some comments along the lines of ''this is so cute but why did it have to be omegaverse that's so weird and gross''#''it could have just been normal''#it's omegaverse because that's the story the author wanted to tell. you fools. you absolute buffoons#flashbacks to all the writing workshop critiques i've received that went something like#''this is really good but do they have to be gay. there's no reason they can't just be normal'' ah fun times :) <- sarcastic guy#goodniiight dashboard if you are for some reason still reading these tags here's a little surprise:#SUPER BOOP!!!!!!
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thinking about saavik again orz
#p#i know some of the older comics give her a betrothal that sarek & amanda set up shortly after she was rescued#but i think iterations of the same backstory where she didn't would make sense and add to her having Not The Best Time on vulcan#like in a society that values these traditions as a stabilizing force/means of maintaining a family's status#it would not be especially advantageous to attach your son to a girl who 1. was actually feral like a year ago 2. has tenuous family ties#3. is of mixed heritage (half of which is an active enemy to your govt) and 4. embodies an incident most vulcans would rather forget#like whoever would agree to the arrangement would have to either be Legit about idic and unusually less susceptible to unconscious bias#(so like. platonic ideal of a fandom-reception Good Vulcan)#or someone who owed sarek a big favor#and even if she was betrothed without blackmail and the family was lovely and not xenophobic to her... that's just them!#tpp at least explicitly mentions people treating her like an interloper throughout her time on vulcan#i think her gravitating towards starfleet is primarily because of spock (initially at least) but lowkey the situation she's in#would make it more appealing as a place THEORETICALLY accepting of cultural difference in the same way it would be to like. ferengi women#for that ^ reason and just going off of flashback i think is she and tuvok met while he was on the excelsior they would butt heads a bit#also he's inflexible and listing regulations in it exactly like she was what.. 7-8 years earlier? and they're about the same age#are vulcans capable of feeling cringe#saavik
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i am being silly.......cause why am i getting visions for lover boy chapters being "colour coded"
#LIKE IN A VERY ABSTRACT THEMATIC WAY THAT I COULD NEVER EXPLAIN#in my head find a lover the beautiful first chapter has always been red#ive had this flashback from chapter two rotating in my head that's at sunset so its very Orange#which pairs with a fictive present scene that has a very specific Orange Sunset description#so i was like woahhh chapter 2 kind of giving orange tinted....wait thats fun its like a gradient from chapter 1#and oh the word gradient set something off in me.#who knows because like what is chapter 3 going to be? yellow?? pink??#i'd say the lover boy palette is red/orange/pink. maybe some yellow for sunlight#because it is so golden hour book#i dont know if i will actually do this but it says a lot of my writing process that chapter 1 being “red” and chapter 2 being “orange”#has made the way these chapters work together make a lot more sense to me LOL
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another lil hc! whilst I do like all depiction of Kabukimono ( canonic && fandom ) , I think rendering him as not knowing how to do anything , how the world of humans work at all , or making him beyond clueless is a bit too popular . I much prefer him to had been trained by Ei , lectured about the art of performance such as kenbushido . . . he canonically has memories with Ei && Yae ,�� even wears reisō ( white attire for shintō purification rituals ) signifying his affiliation with the Grand Narukami Shrine . he had the entire Shakkei Pavillion to himself with all the equipment inside , with no servants nor guards so he was most likely awaiting the day his mothers would return . I firmly believe he was preparing each day to properly greet them, which also requires basic skills .
#* . ⊹ 𝑇𝐻𝑂𝑈𝐺𝐻𝑇𝑆 𝑂𝐹 𝐿𝐼𝐺𝐻𝑇𝑁𝐼𝑁𝐺 › ooc .#I much more enjoy giving him SOME actual connections to EiYae rather than making them ever so distant and unavailable#plus! the reisou attire perfectly lines up with ootomo no kuronushi becoming the guardian of the snow-bound barrier#guarding the sakura tree and the afterlife while still being a villain undercover#Kabukimono having no skills does make sense. don't get me wrong. owning it all to humans to teach him etc#but I prefer him to give him the arteasian skills and the fighting skills to act as a base for him to embody both makoto's and ei's roles#to have the skills necessary to both enamore the people and protect them!#this is also why I think him being denied the position of a god/shogun and meeting the people of tatarasuna#inspired him to train to be the gonguji! this way he would also be close to his mothers as well.#not to mention he most likely wanted Ei's attention the most as oppose to Yae's even if Yae knew more about his life and knew about#his new life in Tatarasuna. his new life with Niwa... which could had been the moment depicted in the flashback (“set him free?”)
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249 episodes and we still know barely anything about shinhye
#at this point we know more about nessa even though we've only seen her through flashbacks 🫠#i love yoo#x#all things in due time etc etc but i really wonder if we'll see shinhye before the big timeskip#it feels like something needs to happen between the sisters some kind of reveal some kind of confrontation SOMETHING#my gut feeling is telling me shinhye is going to be involved in shinae agreeing to yui's offer :/#and maybe that's what ruins their relationship for good or at least damages it more than the stalking did#either way i'm so curious to find out more about shinhye and her personality and what her life has been like#i also used to think that shinae-shinhye would be the mirror to nol-kousuke#but someone smarter than me pointed out that the mirroring pair to nol-kousuke seems to be meg-alyssa#which makes sense and makes me even more curious about what shinhye's dynamic with shinae is going to be like then
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10 Ways You Ruin His Day (and 10 Ways You Ruin His Self-Control)
I originally made this list as character notes for future stories — I love digging deep into their dynamics and really breaking them down. But honestly? I couldn’t not share. Would love to hear your thoughts too: what do you think drives them absolutely mad, and what turns them into helpless fluff puddles? 🖤
🍎 Top 10 Things That Make Caleb Absolutely, Irrevocably Mad
1 He doesn’t know where you are Even when it makes sense. Even when you’re safe. Even when he’s on the far side of a tunnel with no signal and too much time to think. The silence eats at him, turns every breath into a countdown. By the time he’s back, no one on the base dares talk to him until you’re in his line of sight again.
2 You come home with a bouquet of flowers from another man It’s not jealousy, really. It’s… fury dressed in olive green. You’re standing there, smiling, saying some poor man gave you flowers because you saved his life. Great. Fantastic. Caleb’s thrilled that his girlfriend is both competent and accidentally irresistible. But now he has to pretend this isn’t bothering him while mentally comparing the man's face to strategic punching surfaces.
3 You climb on unstable furniture to reach something You know, nothing fancy—just a stack of books on top of a chair that’s on top of a bench. And you? Balancing like a gremlin in fuzzy socks. He walks in and suddenly the war flashbacks begin. You think it’s funny. He thinks it’s a workplace hazard, and you are the HR violation.
4 You rearrange his model planes He adores you. Worships the ground you walk on. Would throw himself in front of an oncoming dropship for you. But if you dust his shelf and dare to reorder his starfighters and aircrafts by vibes instead of model number? He's already rewriting his will. In blood.
5 You do something reckless and then smile about it You say “relax, I had a plan.” He hears: “I almost died, and I’d do it again, because I’m cute and unstoppable.” That smile? That grin you give when you know exactly what you did and you’re proud of it? That’s why he needs stress meds. And maybe a punching bag with your face on it. (Lovingly.)
6 You casually mention the girl he used to date You say it with a smirk, like it’s just some harmless teenage memory. But he doesn’t see her—he sees you. You, standing in the doorway that day. You, catching him with her, both of them half-undressed. And you looking at him like something cracked between you. Back then, you were off-limits. You were the girl he wasn’t allowed to want. So he wanted someone else. Easier. Safer. And now, years later, you bring it up like it’s nothing—while he’s still trying not to remember how badly he wished it had been you.
7 You weren’t his first kiss—but worse, he wasn’t yours It never comes up. Not out loud. But he remembers. Vividly. The hallway. The way your face lit up. The boy leaning in. You smiling. And Caleb—watching from across the room, fists clenched, jaw tight, playing the role of older brother when his whole body screamed mine. You never talk about it. But he never forgot. Never will. Because that moment should’ve been his—and someone else took it first.
8 You walk away during a fight, or shut down emotionally You call it “space.” He calls it “psychological warfare.” You shut down. He short-circuits. Nothing drives him more insane than trying to fix something while you’re actively ghosting him across the living room. He’d rather you screamed. Threw something. Anything. But this quiet? This distance? That’s the one thing he doesn’t know how to fight.
9 You cry—especially if it’s because of him And then he’s done. Game over. His spine straightens like he’s under military command and his entire soul just went through the paper shredder. You cry, and suddenly he’s the villain. You say “it’s not your fault,” but that doesn’t matter. He’s already rewriting the past and taking full responsibility. And yes, he’ll suffer in complete silence. Like a man.
10 You secretly try to uncover what he’s hiding from you You call it curiosity. He calls it a breach of protocol punishable by full emotional lockdown. You think you’re clever. He thinks you just walked into classified territory barefoot, blindfolded, and with a target on your back. You were never supposed to see that side of his world. And now that you have? He doesn’t know whether to yell, hold you, or lock you in a room with military-grade firewalls and a blanket.
🍎 Top 10 Things That Turn Caleb Into a Complete Fluff-Mess
You wearing his dog tags / uniform shirt / flight jacket Instant puddle. No chance. He sees you in his gear and his brain just... shuts off. All he can think is mine mine mine, and he gets this dumb, soft little smirk like he’s trying so hard not to combust.
You falling asleep on him—especially mid-conversation You’re curled into his side, mumbling something about dinner plans, and then: silence. He looks down, sees you asleep on his chest, and that’s it. Whole day ruined. Cancel all missions. He’s not moving.
You bringing him coffee exactly the way he likes it—without asking That quiet, thoughtful act? Hits him right in the soldier-shaped heart. He doesn’t even know how to process being taken care of, so he stares at the cup like it just proposed to him.
You absentmindedly touching him—fiddling with his fingers, tracing scars, playing with his hair He pretends he doesn’t care. He does. He cares so much he forgets how to breathe. Just turns into a warm, red-eared statue trying not to whimper.
You whispering “I trust you” or “I feel safe with you” in a soft moment Core memory unlocked. He stores that one like sacred intel. Will literally whisper it back to himself at 3 AM when he’s lying awake, missing you. It breaks him in the best way.
You clinging to him in your sleep / pulling him closer without waking up Caleb.exe has stopped functioning. He will lie perfectly still for HOURS if it means not disturbing that moment. Bonus points if you mumble his name while doing it.
You defending him when someone questions his methods or past He’s used to being the shield—not having someone stand in front of him. The second you raise your voice on his behalf? He falls in love with you all over again. Might even cry. Secretly.
You gently helping him out of his gear after a long day Soft hands on his buckles. A kiss to his shoulder. A low “You’re home now.” That’s how you make a Colonel melt. His fingers twitch like he wants to worship the ground you walk on.
You surprising him with something dumb and heartfelt, like a handmade gift or bad sketch of him He acts gruff—says “the hell is this, Pips?”—but then puts it in his locker or keeps it in his chest pocket for missions like it’s sacred treasure. Because it is.
You calling him “baby” / “handsome” / “sweetheart” when he least expects it He acts like it’s annoying. It is not annoying. It turns him into actual butter. If you do it with a teasing smile? He short-circuits. Might drop something. Might combust. Definitely blushes.
🩺 Top 10 Things That Make Zayne’s Calm Snap Like a Microsurgical Thread
You ignore his instructions when you're sick You had a fever of 102°F. He left explicit care instructions—bed rest, fluids, minimal movement. You, sweating and glassy-eyed, decided this was the perfect time to rearrange the furniture. When he came home and found you dragging a bookshelf across the room “because the light felt wrong,” he genuinely considered sedating you. Not as punishment. As damage control. For both of you.
You order greasy fast food instead of going somewhere “nutritionally viable” He offered to cook. You said no. Twenty minutes later, you’re eating fries from a paper bag while half of it spills on his clean table. You grin. He stares. Not angry at the food. Angry because you rejected his precision, then settled for processed chaos.
You leave wet towels on the floor after every shower He’s not sure when it started. Day three? Day five? But every time he walks into the bathroom and steps into cold, soggy cotton, something in him fractures. You claim you “forget.” He suspects a psychological experiment.
You casually mention spending time with male friends You think it’s harmless. Lunch with Caleb. Training advice from Xavier. You light up when you talk about them—and that’s the problem. Zayne doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t raise a brow. But the sudden over-fixation on his email inbox says everything.
You receive a speeding ticket. Forty miles over the limit. You wave it off like it’s a funny little anecdote. He sits in absolute silence, calculating the stopping distance of your car vs. standard reaction time at that speed. You think he’s judging. He’s actually trying not to scream.
You poke his ass. Specifically, between the cheeks. You call it “affection.” He calls it “emotional terrorism.” He flinches like he’s been electrocuted, whips around with murder in his eyes—and you’re giggling like a gremlin. Later, you regret nothing, but your thighs may beg to differ.
When you diagnose him with internet psychology You’ve read one book on attachment styles and watched three reels about emotional unavailability. Now you’ve decided he has "clinical avoidant tendencies with a hint of fear-based control fixation." He stares at you, deadpan, like he's about to perform your autopsy.
You keep spoiled food in the fridge and expired meds in the cabinet You say “it doesn’t smell that bad” or “maybe it still works.” His eye twitches. His gloves are already on. He’s not even mad at you—he’s mad at entropy. You’ve become its agent.
You watch reality shows. About infidelity. Willingly. You claim it’s “just background noise.” But he walks in and hears someone scream “that’s not even your baby, Kyle!” and your eyes are glued to the screen. His soul briefly leaves his body.
You washed his white lab coat. With your pink unicorn pajamas. It’s not just the color. It’s the betrayal. The symbol of his clinical neutrality now smells like bubblegum and looks like cotton candy. You say it’s cute. He looks personally violated by the washing machine.
🩺 Top 10 Things That Make Zayne Soft Against His Will
You bring him lunch at the hospital He never asks. You just appear—arms full of neatly packed containers, face lit up like this isn’t the third double shift he’s worked this week. He complains about the timing. The smell. The disruption. And then eats every bite with frightening focus. You leave. He stares at the empty container like it’s proof someone still believes he’s human.
You quote him back to himself like a philosopher You remember something he said weeks ago—some throwaway line about time or structure or entropy—and you drop it casually in conversation, like it’s wisdom from an ancient text. He doesn’t know how to react. You turned his logic into poetry, and he’ll never recover from that.
You wear the little seal keychain he made He didn’t think you’d keep it. Let alone turn it into your everyday keychain. But there it is—always with you, worn smooth from touch. You twirl it absentmindedly while talking to him, never noticing the way his gaze lingers. Never realizing how something so small can hit him so hard.
You put a photo of the two of you on his desk It appears one day. No fanfare. Just… there. A moment frozen in light, sitting quietly beside his surgical reports and diagnostic schematics. At first, he moves it to the edge. Then back to center. Now it lives next to his pen. He doesn’t talk about it. But it’s the only object on that desk he wipes clean with his bare hand.
His work shirt smells like you You borrowed it that morning, wore it while dancing around the apartment with wet hair and no real purpose. Hours later, when he pulls it on between rounds, the scent hits him like a loaded memory. He short-circuits mid-button. Everything feels warmer than it should.
You leave your phone with him while you shower No password. No hesitation. You toss it into his lap with a breezy “can you clear out whatever’s making it lag?” and vanish behind steam. He sits there, phone in hand, suddenly trusted with everything. He opens nothing. But the fact that you’d let him? That’s the part that shakes him.
You ask for his opinion on minor discomforts A papercut. A weird freckle. A suspicious sneeze. You hold out your hand, utterly serious, asking what he thinks. It’s laughable. Ridiculous. And it absolutely wrecks him. You could ask a dozen others—but you ask him. Like he’s the one who makes things better.
You’re on top He likes control. Precision. Strategy. But when you climb into his lap, all instinct and fire, hands braced on his chest and lips already parted—his brain stops cooperating. There’s something about you taking the lead that makes him unravel. Quietly. Violently. Completely.
You argue with him about complex theories—and mean it You don’t just nod. You push back. You challenge. You quote sources he hasn’t thought about in years. You spark. You flare. And he watches, fascinated, lips twitching with something dangerously close to pride. No one does this. No one dares. But you? You never flinch.
You whisper “I love you” in your sleep It’s not loud. It’s not even clear. Just a faint breath in the dark, like a dream half-remembered. But he hears it. Every time. And though he never says a word in return—not while you're sleeping—his fingers tighten around your waist like he's anchoring himself to the only thing that matters.
🎨 Top 10 Things That Make Rafayel Absolutely, Irrevocably Annoyed at You
You told him his painting was “nice” You stood in front of a piece that cost him three sleepless nights, a minor existential crisis, and two broken brushes—and said “Nice.” Just like that. No gasp, no poetry, no tears. He aged five years on the spot. Somewhere in the distance, a violin cried for him.
You dragged him to a cat exhibit You thought it would be cute. Enrichment. A bonding experience. Instead, he spent the entire time perched on edge, eyes darting like prey. You said “they’re just kittens.” He said nothing. He was too busy making sure none of them came closer than ten feet.
You cleaned his studio You thought you were being helpful. But you moved The Pile. The sacred, unholy, perfectly calibrated mess. Now he can’t find his favorite brush, and also he’s deeply offended by how cheerful you looked doing it.
You didn’t reply to his messages for over an hour He sent three texts, one meme, and a “thinking of you 💭” voice note. You replied 67 minutes later with “sry was showering.” By then, he’d already decided you were breaking up with him, joining a cult, or possibly dead. He had a whole monologue planned. And now you’ve ruined it.
You cut your hair He loved your long hair. Adored it. Worshipped it. You showed up with a sharp little bob and said “it’s just hair.” It is not just hair. It is the collapse of a visual era. He’s still adjusting. And by adjusting, he means mourning with wine.
You made fun of his driving You muttered “technically, you were meant to let the tram go first” He muttered “technically, silence is golden.” His driving is instinct. Vibe. Energy. If you didn’t want drama, you shouldn’t have sat in the passenger seat of a man who parallel parks like he’s in a ballet.
You woke him up too early He went to bed at 4 a.m. because inspiration struck. You woke him at 7:12 like it was nothing, and said “you have that interview, remember?” He does remember. He also remembers specifically telling you that if he ever falls asleep before sunrise, you are to let him die peacefully, cancel all earthly obligations, and throw his alarm clock into the ocean where it belongs.
You hid your phone screen when a message came in You were probably teasing. Just being playful. But now he’s spiraling. Who was it? Why the secrecy? What do you have to hide? Congratulations—you’ve just activated his inner opera villain.
You got jealous Which is absurd. He’s the one who invented possessive affection. But you being jealous? That makes him unreasonably indignant. What do you mean you “didn’t like the way that gallery girl looked at him”? Of course she looked. But he didn’t see her. He saw you.
You burned the bacon You say “it’s fine.” He says it’s charcoal. The entire kitchen smells like culinary war crimes. And now he’ll have to burn incense and replant three garden beds to recover emotionally. Who even let you near the stove? Who hurt you? Was it… the bacon?
🎨 Top 10 Ways You Accidentally Turned Rafayel Into a Purring, Love-Drunk Work of Art
You massage his head He’s mid-rant. Arms crossed. Absolutely furious about the lighting in that gallery. And then your fingers slip into his hair—and just like that, the war is over. His entire body melts like he’s been tranquilized. He’ll deny it later, of course. But the way he leans into your hand? Case closed.
You claim him in public It’s an art gala. He’s dressed to ruin people. And then you slip your arm through his, fingers just tight enough to say mine. You smile like a goddess. He pretends he’s unaffected. Inside, he’s writing vows in ten languages and considering printing matching business cards.
You actually listen to his advice He knows he can be dramatic. Unfiltered. Emotionally volatile. But when you sit there, really listening, nodding like his words matter—you destroy him. Suddenly he’s not the chaos. He’s the compass. And that? That’s love.
You share every detail of your day over dinner You talk about everything—the lady at the store, the funny email, the awful latte. You give him your day like a story, like he’s the only one you wanted to tell. He leans in, listens too closely, files away each emotion like a collector of rare art.
You’re always down for his wildest ideas It’s 3 a.m. He wants to hike 2.5 miles along the beach, take a boat to a tiny island, and watch the sunrise with wine. You say “give me five minutes.” And just like that, you become the only person worthy of his wildest, most beautiful chaos.
You let him photograph you Nothing compares. Not awards. Not praise. Nothing rivals the moment you look into his lens—bare, unfiltered, unashamed. Especially when you’re nude, glowing, and laughing like the world doesn’t exist. That’s when he falls in love with you all over again. And again. And again.
You let him choose your dress You come out in the one he picked. Elegant. Perfect. You spin for him. And the way he watches you? Like he made you. Like you’re the gallery and he’s the only one with the key. It’s not fashion. It’s trust. And he adores you for it.
You sing when you don’t know he’s home Wearing socks and earbuds, dancing with a broom, serenading your way through burnt pancakes. You’re off-key. Glorious. Real. And he stands in the doorway, silent, just watching. Because in that moment—you’re not posing. And he’s never loved you more.
You take care of him when he’s sick He has a fever of 99°F and insists he’s fading. You bring tea, stroke his hair, whisper that he’s “very brave.” You don’t mock him. You take his dramatics seriously. He will never forget it. He may also write you into his will.
You join him in the bathtub without asking He’s already halfway submerged, music playing, steam curling in the air—and then you slip in behind him, no warning. You nudge your legs around his hips, hand him your shampoo, and let him wash your hair while you giggle. He tries to act unimpressed. But when he starts kissing your toes? Yeah. You win.
✨ Top 10 Behavioral Anomalies That Triggered Xavier’s Internal Alert System
You break an agreement—even if it's “just a small one” It’s not about control. It’s about structure. You promised. And when you bend the rules—just slightly—he doesn’t react outwardly. No visible shift, no sharp breath. But something behind his eyes goes cold. Because for him, even small deviations mean recalculating everything. And that means risk. To you.
You create drama “just to get a reaction” You push. You poke. You escalate. And he gives you… nothing. No outburst, no flinch. Just that flat, unreadable stare while he mentally exits the room. He doesn’t get angry—he just shuts off the part of himself that wants to stay.
You refuse his protection—on principle You call it independence. He calls it a strategic vulnerability wrapped in pride. He won’t argue. He’ll just be one step farther back the next time, quietly cataloging how to stop caring just enough that it won’t kill him if something happens.
You call him cold—especially when he’s holding himself together for you You see stillness. He feels restraint. You accuse. He remembers what it takes to not become the darker version of himself. If only you knew how much energy it took to stay composed. If only you knew it was for you.
You’re late Five minutes. Ten. No message. No explanation. And his pulse ticks upward—not with impatience, but with pure, trained alertness. He starts looking for signs. Traffic reports. Emergency alerts. By the time you arrive, he’s smiling. But it’s the tight kind. The kind that says never again.
You skip training You’re tired. You had a long day. You say you’ll make it up later. He doesn’t argue. He just recalculates survival probabilities and mentally adds you to the list of people who might die because they were unprepared. And he will blame himself for letting you get soft.
You pull away from his touch when you're angry It’s not the rejection. It’s the meaning behind it. He reaches out—small, careful, calculated—and you shut the door in his face with a single backward step. He doesn’t try again. He doesn’t ask why. But the space you leave behind? It echoes.
You use a photo of Lumiere as a bookmark You think it’s cute. Maybe even sweet. He sees it—and freezes. He’s not jealous. Not exactly. But the idea that you might admire that version more—the legend, the mask, the sharpness—it unsettles something deep. Something he can’t name.
You secretly believe you’re not good enough for him You never say it out loud. But he sees it—in your deflections, your nervous jokes, the way you doubt his love like it���s a glitch. It doesn’t anger him in the usual sense. It just…hurts. Because you’re the only one who never had to earn it.
You throw yourself in front of him during a mission It’s instinct, you say. Split-second decision. You didn’t even think. And that’s the problem. He does. Always. Every variable, every movement, every risk is accounted for—except you breaking formation to protect him. You think it’s brave. He sees it as catastrophic miscalculation. Not because you acted without logic. But because you decided his life was worth more than yours. And that? That’s the one conclusion he refuses to accept.
✨Top 10 Things That Quietly Break Xavier’s Walls and Leave Him Unreasonably Soft About You
When you start reading the same book he’s readingYou don’t announce it. You just show up with the same title, a few chapters behind, and start casually asking questions. He plays it off. But inside? He’s spiraling. Because this—this—is how you speak his language. Silently. Precisely. Together.
When you knock on his door like you’re trying to break it downIt’s loud. Impatient. Inappropriate for the hour. But he knows that knock. That rhythm. That you. You need him. Not his solutions. Him. And somehow, that chaos pounding on his door feels more like home than anything else.
When you hug him from behindYou wrap your arms around his torso mid-task, face pressed between his shoulder blades, palms splayed across his chest like you’re anchoring yourself to something ancient and steady. He stills. Every time. Like someone just whispered a secret to his bones. He never asks why. Never moves away. He just tilts his head slightly—listening, as if your silence said everything he needed to hear.
When you touch his sword (the actual weapon, calm down)He never lets anyone handle it. Not even for cleaning. But your fingers skim the hilt, gentle, curious, reverent. And somehow… it’s okay. You’re not just touching steel. You’re touching him. And he lets you.
When you act like a little girlYou scrunch your nose. Say something ridiculous. Blush like you didn’t mean to. And he watches—utterly disarmed. Because he knows exactly what you want. You want him to carry you. Wrap you up. Keep you safe. And he will—without hesitation.
When you join him on a morning runYou complain. You lag. You swear this is “not your vibe.” But you still show up. Same hour. Same route. And when you match his pace for those few precious minutes? He doesn’t say it—but he’s proud. Painfully proud.
When you share your dreams—and say “we”You’re rambling. Light spilling from your words. Talking about the future, the maybes, the next steps. But you don’t say I. You say we. And that sound? That tiny shift in grammar? It settles deep. Irrevocable. Permanent.
When you make matching braceletsYou say it’s silly. Handmade. Slightly uneven. There’s a charm shaped like a rabbit. He never takes it off. Not in combat. Not in sleep. It rests against his wrist like a pressure point—and grounds him better than anything else.
When you remember his habitsYour shopping list always includes his cinnamon. His brand of shampoo. The exact instant noodles he pretends not to love. You don’t make a show of it. You just know. And that knowing? It destroys him in the softest possible way.
When you trust him completely in bed—even when his darker side surfacesThere’s a moment—quiet, charged—when the softness shifts. He waits. Watches. Braces for resistance. But you don’t pull back. You open your hands. Arch into him. Let him take control without fear. That? That’s what breaks him. Not the pleasure. The trust.
🖤Top 10 Things That Push Sylus Into Maximum Sarcasm and Mildly Homicidal Disapproval
Your outdated, unreliable weapon Yes, he gets it. It’s vintage. It’s “standard issue.” It’s approved by the Hunters Association. Congratulations. That won’t matter when it jams and gets you killed. Every time you return one of the sleek, upgraded firearms he hand-delivers like he’s your personal armory concierge, he has to resist asking if you've already made a draft of your death wish. Alphabetically sorted. With floral headers.
You chew gum—and pop it It’s not the gum. It’s the snap. The sudden, violent pop of sugary air bubbles that hits his trauma response like a trigger. He knows it’s just a noise. His shoulder still twitches. He’s this close to reaching into your mouth and extracting the gum like a gentleman. A very sarcastic, deeply annoyed, half-feral gentleman.
You try to shake your tail (him) You use stealth tech. You block your signal. You go dark. Adorable. You’re forgetting that the very system you’re relying on was developed by his own syndicate. The only person who ever really evades Sylus is Sylus. And maybe the cat that lives under his car. But not you. Never you.
You don’t introduce him as your boyfriend to your old classmates You panicked. He gets that. You called him “a friend.” And now he’s deeply committed to the bit. For the next seven days, every time you said anything, he replied with “Of course, as your friend…” in front of waiters, dealers, and one extremely confused ambassador. You only managed to shut it down by hastily posting a photo of you two with the caption “my boyfriend and the love of my life.” Acceptable recovery. Barely.
You refuse to use his resources His private jet? Untouched. His cars? Collecting dust. His black card? Sitting unused like some kind of insult in your purse. You say you’re “independent.” He says you’re actively offending his entire lifestyle philosophy. Do you have any idea how disrespectful it is to ignore an entire walk-in wardrobe prepared for you in his estate? Honestly, it’s almost admirable. Almost.
You once smoked a cigarette, and he saw it He didn’t say anything. At the time. Just looked at you. Silently. Like someone had drop-kicked a kitten in front of him. He’s not judging. He’s just picturing your lungs in an ashtray. And adding another page to your death wish list.
You speak in riddles and expect him to “get it” You want something—time away, a trip, his attention—but instead of asking, you sigh dramatically and murmur, “It’s fine. I guess some people just don’t want to escape the city with their girlfriends…” He blinks. Slow. Dangerous. “Was that a request, a riddle, or an emotional booby trap?” If you want something from him, Kitten, try using nouns and verbs. Not cryptic guilt puzzles.
You suggest another woman would be “perfect for him” It’s a joke. Offhand. Barely a breath. But your voice wavers—just slightly—and that ruins it. He doesn’t want her. He doesn’t want options. He wants you. And now, thanks to your charming lapse in self-worth, he has to waste the rest of the evening reminding you that this face, this power, this entire empire already belongs to someone. Guess who.
You sneak up on him You never mean to. But somehow, you're always the one person who slips past every alarm, every trained instinct, and ends up whispering behind him when his brain is still in kill mode. It takes everything in him to not react on pure reflex. You think it’s cute. He thinks it’s potentially catastrophic.
You don’t believe him when he says he’s fine Yes, he’s bleeding. Yes, his shirt is soaked. But he said “it’s a scratch,” and when he says that—he means it. His body heals like a myth. Your worried face? It makes something in him ache. Because the real wound isn’t on him—it’s in you, for thinking he’s anything less than unbreakable.
🖤 Top 10 Things That Make Sylus Dangerously Soft for You (And Yes, He’s Keeping Score)
When you finally spend his money It started with coffee. Small. Harmless. But the alert hit his phone and, for a moment, he genuinely wondered if his card had been stolen—until he saw your name. And something in him shifted. Not because of the cost. Please. He could buy the city it was brewed in. No, it was the fact you used it. You. Willingly. Now? You’re bolder—little dresses, shoes, jewelry you don’t need. And every time you do, he rewards it like you just proved you understand the assignment: what's his, is already yours.
When you give orders to his men like you're the boss You don’t ask. You instruct. Calm, certain, completely in charge. One of his men hesitates—just once—while you’re directing them to rescue a terrified kitten stuck in a tree. Sylus doesn’t interfere. He just watches, arms crossed, a grin tugging at his mouth as armed professionals scramble to obey you like you're the patron saint of lost animals. Somewhere in his mind, he’s already fitted you for a crown. With tiny cat ears.
When you secretly pet Mephisto The mechanical raven used to drive you insane. Now? You’re sneaking him treats and absentminded scratches under the jaw. Sylus sees it. Says nothing. But deep down, he knows: if you’ve accepted the bird—you’ve accepted all of him. And that’s lethal. To him.
When you make him a playlist You never explain them. Just send a link and say nothing. But he listens—every time. Alone. In his car. In the bath. Eyes closed, calculating your every choice like it’s encrypted intel. Each track? A hint. A mood. A coded message from you to him. He doesn’t ask for them. He just waits for the next one. And when it arrives, he treats it like gospel.
When you leave a trail of chaos in his car Your hair on the seat. Your gum wrappers in the cup holder. The seat so close to the wheel he practically has to fold in half. And the music? A full-volume love ballad ready to ambush his eardrums at ignition. It's obnoxious. It’s inconvenient. It’s perfect. His life, now featuring you.
When you eat from his plate You swore you weren’t hungry. You said “no carbs this week.” And now? You’re stealing fries from his hand and dipping into his steak sauce like it’s your birthright. He doesn’t stop you. He just watches you chew with that look that says: mine. forever.
When you talk and talk and talk Something happens. You spiral. Words spill. Thoughts tangle. You’re not even aware you’re rambling—but he is. He listens to everything. Stores it all. Because there’s something magical about your voice when it’s unfiltered. You don’t realize it, but he falls a little harder every time you forget to censor yourself.
When you crawl into his lap while he’s working He’s in the middle of paperwork. Calculating things. Dangerous things. And suddenly—you. Right there. Knees on either side, arms around his neck, like the world’s most beautiful interruption. He tells himself he needs to finish. But his hands are already on your hips.
When you call and ask for help A jar. A stuck zipper. A ride. It doesn’t matter. You’re a trained hunter—you’ve faced things with claws, fangs, and no name. But you still call him. Because you want him. And that? That wrecks him in ways he’ll never admit. He’s already on his way before you hang up.
When you scream his name right before you come There’s a lot he’s proud of. His empire. His power. His record. But nothing—nothing—satisfies him more than the moment your voice breaks open with his name. Like prayer. Like surrender. Like he’s the only thing in your world. Which, of course… he is.
#lads#love and deepspace#lads fanfic#lads fandom#xavier love and deepspace#zayne love and deepspace#rafayel love and deepspace#sylus love and deepspace#caleb love and deepspace#sylus lads#lads caleb#lads zayne#lads rafayel#lads xavier#xavier x reader#zayne x reader#rafayel x reader#sylus x reader#caleb x reader#caleb x mc#zayne x mc#rafayel x mc#sylus and mc#caleb x you#xavier x you#zayne x you#rafayel x you#sylus x you#storytelling#fanfic
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I want to talk about why I think this is the one of the most important Falin panels:
So, Falin is really nice, right? It's one of the first things we really learn about her. She's kind even to the monsters of the dungeon - choosing to ward the party rather than fight spirits and cause them needless harm.
In the above early flashback in chapter 11, we see Marcille fawning over Falin's kindness, calling her an angel. Namari calls her soft-hearted. We see Falin choose not to fight even when a zombie attacks - instead she resolves the confrontation with a hug. After the flashback, the first thing Senshi says is that Falin "sounds like quite the person," which Marcille strongly affirms.
At this point in the story, all we have seen of Falin are these impressions; she is a healer, an angel, a caretaker with an infinite well of kindness towards everyone she meets - both friend and foe.
And honestly, that remains most of what we have to go by to understand her. The only times we get to see Falin on the page, alive and just herself, are in the opening and closing pages of the story and in the brief period of time after she is resurrected.
Nonetheless, we do have some more details to work with. For one, there is the scene that The Panel is from - a short memory in chapter 75, when Marcille flashes back to while she's dying. In that scene, Falin prepares to teleport them all out, and says that she's sorry "if there is a person at [their] destination." And that's when we get The Panel.
If you teleport someone or something into another person, the person teleported into is likely to be, at minimum, severely injured. They could die.
We can see a lovely little horrifying example of exactly why in one of the Daydream Hour doodles:
So, hmm. That's not... that's not SUPER nice. Certainly not displaying the same "kindness to all, friend and foe included" we saw represented earlier. On a basic level, this adds some nuance to Falin's kindness. We see it break a little, when pushed to the limit. We see her chose to protect the people she loves above all else.
Which makes sense! As Laios says when the Winged Lion accuses him of similarly being motivated more by his friends' safety than everyone else in the dungeon, "...most people, aside from virtuous do-gooders, would feel the same way."
So, we can take The Panel as simply showing a moment of weakness for Falin. A time when she was pushed to her limits, and that "most people" selfish side of her shone through.
However... I think there's a little more going on with Falin than just her being an angel 99% of the time, except just that once. I love The Panel because I think it helps us understand that Falin isn't just motivated by kindness - she also has a desire to avoid seeing people in pain.
Isn't that the same thing?
No, no it very much is not.
Let's look at a short comic from the Falin section of the Adventurer's Bible, because I think it illustrates this point perfectly. The group is complaining about how much Marcille's healing hurts, and comparing it to Falin's, which "doesn't hurt a bit." Marcille retorts with the following:
Now, the punchline of this comic is that, despite Marcille's sentimental assertion that she's "thinking of [them]" by letting her healing magic hurt, they all still prefer to be healed by Falin.
But hey, this wouldn't be the first time that Dungeon Meshi hides a very real character beat or insight in a gag, so let's think about this somewhat seriously.
If Marcille is right (and she knows a fair bit about magic, so we can assume that she has at least somewhat of a point), then what Falin is doing isn't kind. I suppose if someone specifically requested to not feel the pain, it could be kind, but that's not really what happened here. She is the one who felt badly about the others being in pain, and she is the one who decided, without telling them or giving them a choice in the matter, to take away that pain.
Both Marcille and Falin are healing the party, but Marcille is doing it in a way that accomplishes the task in the most straight forward way, without any additional interference. Falin is going out of her way to perform the healing in a way she is more comfortable with. A way that avoids pain.
Going back the The Panel, I don't think its a coincidence that the only time we see Falin (well, non-chimera Falin) willing to do something that could hurt someone is when any potential pain will be far away from her. If she got someone hurt or killed by teleporting the party to the surface? Not only would it be far out of her sight, but she'd be dead before she had to deal with any consequences of that action.
Falin is not a confrontational person. She doesn't push when Marcille won't tell her the truth about the resurrection, and she comforts Laios about her own death - both of those things happening in the only full chapter she is alive and conscious in the whole story.
We also know that she considered accepting Shuro's proposal, despite not having any special feelings towards him, and that Falin never explained to Marcille that she wanted them to share a meal together. When she brought Marcille various foods at the academy, she just accepted Marcille's confused rejection and gave up.
And lastly, we know that she is still in contact with her parents, despite the neglect and abuse she suffered at their hands. Although the way someone chooses to handle contact with abusive or bad family is a complicated topic, which I don't want to overly simplify, I do I think this fact gets at the heart of how she handles conflict.
So many people that Falin loves have hurt her. There are understandable hurts, like Laios leaving the village, or Marcille not understanding the food. And there are bigger, far less justifiable hurts - like her parents neglecting her throughout her childhood, and sending her away to be alone at the magic academy.
It doesn't seem like Falin has ever confronted any of it directly.
And the unhealthy aspects of this kind of avoidance of pain and confrontation is one of the things that the story of Dungeon Meshi is all about. We see Laios grapple with it before he goes to kill Falin, and we see Marcille acknowledge it at the end of the story, when she tells Laios that she has come to terms with Falin's death:
Eating is a part of life. Consuming other living things is a part of life. It isn't really possible to avoid that pain - you can only hide from the truth of it. You have to be selfish everyday. You have to eat - to choose to live. To choose to take up space.
And this is something Falin embraces, too. She comes back to life, after all.
We see her choose to come back to life.
And how does she make that choice? She eats. She consumes, and then she is asked a question by the manifestation of hunger itself:
Do you want to eat more?
There is a double meaning in the Winged Lion's final words on the next page.
When I first read this, I took it as him saying: life is cruel. You will suffer. You will feel more pain.
But perhaps, especially for Falin, this also means: you are choosing a path where you must cause pain. Where you must consume. Where you must take, and must be selfish. Because eating is the special privilege of the living, and it is their burden, too. In order to stay alive, she will need to keep eating.
And she chooses that. Chooses to be selfish. It's why her resurrection scene is so important, and it's why The Panel is so important. Because Falin coming back isn't the ultimate reward for all of the party's hard work.
It's her choice. Just like it was her choice that started everything in the first place. But this time, she doesn't choose to accept causing pain for the sake of Marcille and Laios. She does it for her own sake.
#dungeon meshi#delicious in dungeon#falin touden#dunmeshi analysis#I love it when dungeon meshi says. the trauma was real and it changed you#and the way you are because of it isn’t anything to be ashamed of#but you have to keep living. you have to chose to keep living.#and you can#dungeon meshi spoilers
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trying to be smart and different with your stories is a disease and i have it
#i’m trying to think of some stuff in ph a little more normally and it’s making more sense#like obviously#but trying to be ahead of an audience that doesn’t exist or is just your friends is so fucking silly#^i have a weird aversion to like just doing flashbacks straight up but i’ve realized that’s how you have to write thing’s coherently#lord
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hi! i’m thinking about some angst with a soft fluff ending where the reader and bucky is in their early stages of their relationship. bucky was s h@rass3d in hydra, he was struggling to make physical contact and interactions with the reader but somehow learned what safe touch is 🫶🏻
here's your fic <3
A kind of brave
Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader
Summary: Bucky flinches when you touch him—but you're not in a hurry. Love, in your world, is patient.
Word count: 1.1k+
The writing in italics is a flashback
Warnings and tags: Past trauma and harassment (non-graphic), Flashbacks to Hydra-related abuse, PTSD symptoms (flinching, hypervigilance, difficulty with physical touch), Emotional vulnerability, Hurt/Comfort, Gentle Love, Healing Together, Safe Touch Exploration, Bucky Barnes Needs a Hug, Reader Helps Bucky Heal.
You weren’t expecting anything when it started.
He’d shown up to the Tower quieter than most. Standoffish, unreadable. You'd been assigned as his point of contact—“Ease him in,” they said. “Help him find normal.”
But normal wasn’t easy to come by for someone like Bucky Barnes.
Still, he let you sit with him during shared meals. You’d catch him listening as you told stories about the city or teased Sam across the room. His replies were clipped but thoughtful. He'd nod when you made jokes. Once, you caught him smiling.
Then came the moment that changed things—subtly, but completely.
You were reaching for a mug in the kitchen. He stood beside you. As your fingers brushed his arm—just a touch, featherlight—he flinched.
Not dramatically. Not enough to cause a scene. But enough for your heart to ache.
His shoulders tensed. His breath hitched. He stepped back like the heat of your skin had burned him.
“I’m sorry,” you murmured, pulling your hand back instantly.
He didn’t speak. Just stared at the floor, ashamed of something that wasn’t his fault.
You didn’t bring it up that day. Just gave him space and offered him coffee like nothing happened.
But that moment stayed with you.
So you started paying closer attention
You noticed it in the way he avoided the couch if someone was already sitting. How he always stood at the far edge of the elevator. How his hands stayed buried in his sleeves, even when the sun was warm.
When he smiled, it didn’t quite reach his eyes.
When he laughed, it was careful—like joy was something borrowed.
You adapted without needing to say it aloud. Stood beside him instead of in front. Sat far enough away that he wouldn’t feel cornered. Asked with your eyes before you ever reached out.
He noticed. You knew he did. Because slowly, inch by inch, he started to linger longer. Sit a little closer. Speak a little more.
Trust takes time.
Especially when you’ve been taught the wrong definition of touch.
It always started with the sound.
A low, mechanical click as the restraints slid into place, followed by the sterile whir of lights flickering to life overhead — harsh, clinical, too white. Too clean. A cruel contrast to the filth he was forced to live in.
The chair was metal, ice-cold against his skin no matter how long he was in it. His breath fogged in the air like a ghost trying to escape. But ghosts were free. He wasn’t.
He stopped fighting it years ago — if years even existed down here. Time was meaningless in a place that never changed. No windows. No sky. No sense of day or night. Just missions, control, silence. Then pain.
A man in a lab coat leaned over him, faceless and featureless in Bucky’s mind now. There had been too many. They all smelled the same — antiseptic and cruelty. A hand gripped his chin, tilting his face roughly upward like he was an object being inspected.
“You're not him anymore,” the voice said, clinical, bored. “You don't flinch. You obey.”
But he did flinch — inside, where no one could see. Where it wouldn't earn him another reset.
Another hand came next — this one pressed over his shoulder, firm and too slow to be casual. They wanted him to feel it. They always wanted him to feel it, in the worst ways. Not just pain, but control. Ownership. Submission.
It wasn’t the physical agony that broke him the most. It was how they taught him to dread touch. How something so human became a punishment. They rewired him — so that warmth became threat, closeness became fear, and skin-on-skin was something to survive rather than savor.
There were nights after a mission when they didn’t even have to touch him. They’d just come close. Breathe behind him. Wait for him to flinch.
He always did.
It was a week after a rough mission. Bucky had barely said a word.
You found him on your couch one night, long after the city had gone to sleep. Hoodie sleeves pulled over his hands. Eyes vacant.
You didn’t speak right away. Just offered him tea. Sat beside him—far enough to let him breathe.
Eventually, he said it.
“Do you know what it’s like,” he whispered, “to want to be touched but not know how?”
Your heart cracked. You didn’t rush to fix it.
Instead, you said, “Yeah. I think… I do.”
He turned toward you. “It wasn’t just the fighting. HYDRA—they used touch. Twisted it. Made it mean control. Made me afraid of something I used to love.”
You swallowed. “I’m sorry they did that to you.”
His voice dropped lower. “Sometimes I still feel like a weapon. Even now. When you smile at me. When you sit close. Part of me wants to pull you in. And the other part... is scared I’ll ruin it.”
“You won’t,” you promised. “Not with me."
He asked if he could hold your hand.
His voice shook when he said it.
“Only if you’re sure,” you told him.
“I’m not sure of anything,” he confessed. “But I want to try.”
So you laid your hand between you on the couch. Open. Waiting.
He took it, slow and careful. His fingers hovered before they rested on yours, like he was expecting the world to crack open beneath him.
But it didn’t.
And for the first time, he didn’t flinch.
You squeezed gently. “You’re doing amazing.”
He smiled—small, but real.
He started coming over more.
Sometimes with books. Sometimes with nothing but tired eyes and quiet company.
One night, you found him in the kitchen. He was making tea—two cups. He handed you yours without a word, then hesitated.
“Can I stay tonight?” he asked.
You blinked. “Of course. You want the couch?”
He shook his head. “I want to try… sleeping next to you. If that’s okay.”
You nodded. “It’s more than okay.”
That night, he curled up beside you—nervous but determined. You didn’t reach for him.
But he reached for you.
His fingers brushed yours under the blanket.
Light, hesitant.
You looked over. “This alright?”
He nodded, eyes a little glassy. “Yeah. It’s… nice.”
You didn’t need more than that.
And when you woke the next morning, his arm was loosely around your waist. His breathing soft against the back of your neck. No nightmares. No panic.
Just warmth.
Just safety.
Just him.
He still had bad days. Days when the shadows whispered louder than your voice.
But they passed.
And on the good days, you’d catch him reaching for you without thinking—nudging your foot under the table, brushing your hair behind your ear, linking pinkies as you walked side by side.
He was learning.
And he was loving you, in the way only he could—slow, steady, gentle.
Not perfect.
But real.
And more than enough.
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfiction#marvel#tw assault#tw harassment#bucky barnes fluff#marvel fanfiction#bucky barnes angst#sebastian stan x reader#bucky barnes x you#james buchanan barnes#bucky x reader
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