#which I still feel on some level I suppose

[suzukiblu]

Thank-you sentences for derpsheep behind the cut; weird amnesia Timberkon. (( chrono || non-chrono ))

“You can recognize their heartbeats?” Bernard asks incredulously–that is a very creepy and invasive thing to recognize about someone, much less be passively listening to, what the fuck–and then frowns. “Wait, got back from where?” 

“Long story,” Superboy mutters. “Alternate realities were involved. It sucked. But I got back here, and it’s supposed to be right, and there’s people I recognize, but there’s . . . different people, too. And no one here recognizes me. And I thought . . .” 

“That you were either totally insane or just stranded in the wrong reality for no discernable reason with no idea how to find the right one?” Bernard assumes. 

“That, yeah,” Superboy says tightly. “Definitely that.” 

“Good news, I guess, if you are insane, it’s a shared delusion, and if you’re in the wrong reality, so am I,” Bernard says. “Because again, I definitely remember you. And Hawaii. And Superman being dead. And like, all that shit in general. Also you kinda died that one time too? There was a statue, I’m pretty sure. Actually I think there were two.” 

Superboy’s smile is tight and humorless, and he digs his fingers into the inside of his wrist. Bernard has no clue how a dude in such severe and obvious distress can look so fucking good about, like . . . literally everything he’s got going on over there. It’s a lot of “everything”, is all. Superboy is a lot no matter what, obviously, but still. Like, extra a lot. Secret bonus levels of a lot. 

A lot. 

“I mean, there used to be,” Superboy says, and the pained smile he’s wearing turns–bitter, kind of. 

Fuck, Bernard feels so bad for this dude. Like so many levels of so bad. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way but I need to google some shit,” he says as he digs his phone out. Tim is clearly taking his sweet-ass time in the bathroom, and since he isn’t actually in there waiting for Superboy, it’s gotta be a Bat thing, which usually gives him a good fifteen or twenty minutes of fuck-around time before Tim makes it back with the weak excuse du jour. Or, like, three and a half weeks, one very memorable and kinda fucking awful time that Bernard had spent wondering if jumping into the timestream was how vigilantes ghosted you. “And maybe check some forums or something.” 

“I don’t think ‘is this weird dude at the boba shop crazy’ is gonna pop up on Bing, man,” Superboy says, still wearing the same bitter smile. Bernard wonders why he didn’t just go to the Justice League and explain himself to them. Like, they’d probably believe him, right? Or at least they wouldn’t instantly not believe him; they’d check things out or whatever. 

Alternately, though: half-Kryptonian full-telekinetic with Lex Luthor’s DNA and Superman’s face who doesn’t even know if he’s crazy or not.  

So like . . . that seems like an awkward conversation to have with Superman, maybe, Bernard allows. Or just fucking agonizing and terrifying and wildly, wildly likely to end in one of those stupid misunderstanding-based super-fights and, like, maybe also getting drop-kicked into the Phantom Zone because said stupid fight would be against Superman and that is, apparently, what Superman usually does with supervillain Kryptonians. And probably Superboy is having some very understandable issues about getting drop-kicked out of reality right now, if that’s a concern he’s had. Which–the Phantom Zone isn’t the same thing as an alternate reality, as far as Bernard’s aware, but also what the fuck does he know about the Phantom Zone? 

Bernard googles, in quick succession: Superman’s death, the Phantom Zone, and Superboy. He gets a ton of articles and photographs and blog posts with absolutely zero trace of Superboy in a single one of them, a lot of contradicting intel about what the hell the Phantom Zone actually is, and also some blurry candid photos of a ten year-old in ripped jeans and an S-shield hoodie that he’s never seen before in his life. 

. . . so that’s weird, yeah, Bernard observes, blinking down at his phone. 

“Huh,” he says, brow furrowing. “Hey, should I know this kid?” 

“Did you literally just google ‘Superboy’?” Superboy asks, which is notably not an answer to Bernard’s question. 

“Obviously, yeah, the entire internet is in my pocket, why would I not do that,” Bernard replies reasonably, still scrolling through random photos of this completely unrecognizable kid. Said kid continues to look like a total fucking stranger and Bernard continues to have zero clue who he is or why he’s wearing the “S”. Another clone, maybe? Like, an even mini-er mini-Super? Bernard can’t see his face all that clearly in any of the pics, still, but he’s at least got Superman’s coloring, it looks like. 

“Because Tim would give you shit about it, probably, I don’t know,” Superboy lies, because he very obviously does know. Probably better than Bernard does himself, come to think of it, which is kind of a weird thought but also, like, an obviously objectively true one. Superboy’s spent a lot more time with Tim than he has, even having been, like . . . unrealitied and all. 

God, that is still so disturbing a concept, too. 

[lucky-clover-gazette]

(for the request thing) sometimes i wonder how Volo would feel/react if someone (like arceus’s chosen 👀) took a blow for him from a wild Pokemon or another person. From his perspective, Volo doesn’t have anyone in Hisui that cares about his wellbeing, and the game alludes to him having a troubled and lonely past, and with him having planned on erasing all life in Hisui in pursuit of his desires, would he feel guilt if someone showed him a level of care that would make them sacrifice their safety for his, when he was ready to potentially sacrifice them for his own sake when it came to Arceus?

(also wanna say ive loved your fics on Ao3, so talented <3)

(also on ao3)

You really prefer not to die in front of other people.

The edges of your vision darken as you shove Volo aside, taking the full force of the Alpha Vespiqueen’s attack. You manage the subdue your attacker with a well-aimed sticky glob and ultra ball, but not before suffering an undoubtedly fatal blow.

The consummate merchant comes to you at once, leaning over your fallen body with an oddly indecipherable expression. Usually Volo is abundantly obvious with his feelings, whether he’s passionately rambling about ruins or earnestly praising your efforts as the hero of Hisui. But the man you see now, as your vision begins to blur, simply stares.

“Caught it,” you brag.

His grey eyes widen slightly. You haven’t shared this with him, but you’ve always found them rather beautiful.

“You shouldn’t have…”

“Saved you?” you ask with a dry chuckle. “That’s why I’m here, remember?”

Volo furrows his brow. Reaches out to touch you, then pulls his hand back.

“I sincerely apologize,” he tells you, bowing his head. “If you are to perish in these circumstances, you deserve to know—”

You die and can’t hear the rest.

And then you open your eyes.

You stand on your feet now, in the last place you felt safe before the Pokémon’s attack. Volo still kneels in the distance, seemingly unaware that your body has been replaced by a fallen satchel containing your entire supply of ultraballs, a fire stone, and exactly four medicinal leeks.

You frown. This is going to be awkward.

“Hey, buddy,” you say, coming up carefully behind him. Volo’s back goes rigid at the sound of your voice, his head turning around at once.

“You—you!!”

You rub the back of your neck, sheepish. “Surprise?”

“You died!” Volo exclaims with an accusatory finger-point. “I just saw—” His head swivels to the satchel on the ground, then he turns back to you. “How?”

You sigh and sit down beside him. “Chosen One perk. I die, Arceus says my work isn’t finished yet, I get another shot. It happened for the first time when I fought Lord Kleavor. I had no idea what I was doing, and it took like a dozen tries before I got good.”

Volo looks horrified. “You’ve died a dozen times?”

“Of course not!”

“Then why—”

“My death count’s definitely in the triple digits now. Lord Arcanine was ten times worse than Kleavor, because of all the fire and bullshit arena. At least Lady Liligant was a total pushover.”

“Did it not hurt?” demands Volo, his face growing noticeably pale.

“Oh, it totally hurt,” you admit. “But somebody’s got to deal with it, and I’m the only one around here who’s been made invulnerable by God.”

Volo looks as if he’s been slapped. You suppose that’s fair, considering the shock of witnessing your death and resurrection. But to you, this really is just another Tuesday.

“I know it’s disturbing,” you sigh, putting a hand on his shoulder. His muscles are tense. “That’s why I try my best to make sure people aren’t around to see it. Just easier that way, you know?”

Volo wears another unreadable expression.

“Sucks to lose a satchel, though,” you say, lightly. “Thanks for keeping an eye on it. Without witnesses, I usually lose some of my stuff. Never the plates, though, don’t worry.”

He still looks lost in his thoughts, which is no good. You don’t know how to explain that this happens all the time, for much less important reasons than protecting your favorite person on Hisui. The pain is a small price to pay for his safety, and you’d readily pay it again.

“I thought you died,” Volo eventually says. “Saving my life.”

You elbow him playfully. “I guess Arceus is looking out for you too.”

His expression darkens. “No.”

“No?”

He looks you dead in the eyes, with a different sort of intensity than you’ve come to expect from the eccentric wanderer. “Under an unjust god, endless life is endless pain. Do you truly wish that for yourself? For the world?”

Distantly, you wonder what exactly Volo had thought you deserved to know before your presumed demise. You have a feeling he’s not going to tell you now.

You offer him a hand. “Well, unless you’ve got a better god laying around somewhere, I think we’re stuck with what we’ve got.” And I like what I’ve got, you absolutely do not tell the merchant. I like that I’m here with you.

Volo still seems distracted, but he takes your hand anyway. “Right,” he mutters, and then smiles. “We live to fight another day.”

You rub your thumb against the side of his hand. “And maybe someday, we won’t have to fight. We’ll have everything we need.”

You can picture it, with him. You wonder, maybe foolishly, if he might feel the same way.

Supporting you is actually an investment in my own fortunes, Volo had told you once.

You would protect him regardless of your personal relationship, of course. Just as you protect the rest of this world. You want things to be better, for everyone, and intend to use your god-given powers to ensure that your dream becomes reality.

Volo nods, his sharp gaze fixed on your joined hands. A chill runs down your spine as he squeezes.

“Yes,” he agrees. “Someday.”

You smile softly.

“I think I can live with that.”

[lovendermist]

You know how Hange is sometimes called Hans? I feel like reader finds it attractive and uses Hans to call Hange instead of the usual coupley ones

Can i request scenarios with this idea? I find it so adorable

Darling, what did you just call me?

Come again?

Type: Scenarios, fluff, Hange being called Hans

WC: 1,696

Pairing: Hange (or dare I say Hans) x Reader

A/N: Hnggg this is so cute. Thank you so much for requesting this! Also, I wrote this down (like, pen and paper) during my vacant time in college, which I thought was really interesting because I didn't think I would actually make something I'm happy with considering how sleepy I am during those vacants! I'm kind of proud of myself for that. Only the part by the end is the one written on google docs, and of course I edited some of the sentences online, but still! Hope you enjoy!

hange masterlist

Hange being called Hans :)

It took you a while to realize that Hange tried their very best not to make it as obvious that most of your actions and words had such effects on them, driving them wild with desire and with love.

It always starts in the smallest of things. A slightly different style in clothing or even a different earring, but of course, Hange never fails to shower you with all the affection they can give you. They just keep it at a certain level as to not overwhelm you, because god knows you won't ever be able to leave the room if Hange was in the mood to show you just how much they love you, how much the slightest change in appearance is enough to make them swoon and be all overprotective.

But it doesn't end there. What you've noticed is that what seemingly affects them the most is when you call them. Whether it's verbal or by gesture, you name it. Once, you stood patiently by the doorway, calling Hange over once their meeting was done, and you swear, you could almost see them squirm as they went to you, the glint in their eyes betraying their nonchalant stride.

The moniker "Squad Leader" and simply their own name "Hange" would make them smile. Or even if their lips didn't feel like returning your smile, it would be their eyes doing it rather sweetly back at you. Hange swears that the way you say their name is a sedative of its own, by the way the moment your voice reaches their ears, their shoulders loose a bit of the tension in them, their eyes soften, their entire demeanor turning gentle. Hange endlessly loves the sound of their own name rolling from your tongue. They don't say it out loud, but Hange wishes there were more excuses just for you to say it.

"Hanji", you called them one time, a slip of the tongue, but Hange -- or should we say Hanji, loved it. You suppose it's just the cost of having such a unique name, and you tease them about having so many names, which they giggle at. Hange especially loves how the "ji" part sounded; it was a little fast and desperate, they said. It always caught them off guard whenever anyone but you said their name like that. It was a rare pronunciation to hear from you, but god did they love it, and they'll never ever complain.

"Hans" finally slipped out one day, and neither of you expected it. Your tongue had messed up between saying their name and saying something else entirely, hence the amalgamation of such a name. Though weirdly enough, you didn't dislike the sound, and neither did Hange. And just as odd was how Hange immediately knew you were calling for them. They really do have a lot of names, don't they?

"Sorry," You shake your head with a smile at your own mistake, but it’s almost like your mind scrambles just as quickly to find another excuse to say the rather attractive nickname once more. "I meant Hange. Can you get me the spice over there please?"

Hange tilts their head to the side cutely, taken aback by the slip-up.

"No, no" They chuckle, keeping the spice you were looking for in their hand, eyes squinting rather charmingly. "Say it again."

"What?" You return their playful and amused smile with one of your own. You definitely heard them loud and clear, but it was bewildering how Hange was offering you the chance to say the name again just like that.

"You know what." Hange runs their free hand by your cheek, gliding their thumb up and down before finally settling by your chin, "My name, how you just said it." Hange squeezes your chin gently twice, smiling down at you.

You chuckle, turning soft at the gentle gesture before complying with their request, "Hans. The spice, please?" It's only been the second time, but the way it feels coming out of your mouth feels so natural and familiar already. Hange finally sets the spice by the counter beside you.

"Has a nice ring to it, doesn't it?" You grow disappointed by the way Hange lets go of your chin as they reply, but your smile doesn't waver.

"Hans." You say it again quietly. You find yourself growing fond of the new name, and so was Hange. Or should we say, Hans? "Do people call you that often?"

Hange ponders your question for a moment, "Hmmm. Maybe once or twice, but it's the first time I've heard it again. And I have to say, it was definitely better to hear it from you, even if it was accidental."

You lick your lips, considering the option of making it a new pet name for Hange. You certainly liked the sound of it, and if Hange's not averse to being called this name, then why not?

"Looks like your tongue has a mind of its own, making that name without even knowing people called me that before," Leaning against the counter, Hange's eyes glint as they look at you, "It's quite unique, isn't it?"

"It is,” You say to yourself more than to Hange, and you can see them perk up at the mention of their name again, “Hans, huh…"

You were certainly going to use this as Hange's new nickname.

One night, Hange was being particularly stubborn and refusing to leave their work, using your very own desk and spending more time with their work and research than with you, the very opposite from what you two intended to do in the few days that they had a break. Hange's brows furrowed, eyes glued to the pages in front of them, a hand up their messy hair as they try to make sense of whatever's on the pages. Your patience was thinning, and yet all you could do was watch and call for them at random intervals.

"Hange." You called out, leaning against the doorway of your own place and watching as your own partner worked themselves away in the night.

"Just a few more pages, darling."

"You said the same thing like 3 pages ago."

"Give me some more time, alright?" Hange's tone remains stern, their eyes never leave the paper in front of them, and that's all it takes for you to walk over and press your hands firmly on the desk. Yet even with your presence in front of them, Hange's eyes are infuriatingly glued to their work.

"Hans." You called out at last, and to hear Hange's pen drop felt like a victory on its own. That, and the fact that they finally looked you in the eyes after what seemed like hours was enough for you to claim your silent success.

You smirk at their reaction, knowing very well how much of a hold that nickname has on both of you. Hange leans back on the chair after noticing your smug expression.

"You're unfair, you know that?"

"Not as unfair as you, working away like that and ignoring me completely." You walk over behind them, arms wrapped around and face snuggled deep in the crook of their neck, "Come on, snuggle with me in bed, Hans."

"You know, I don't know why, but..." Hange sighs deeply, lost in thought, yet a hand caresses your arm regardless, "That name has such an effect on me. I hate it."

"What name, Hans?" You start kissing the soft skin of their neck, to which Hange shivers at.

"That. Exactly that." Hange sighs yet again before finally standing up, twisting their body to face yours, hand lingering by your arm, "You're having way too much fun with that nickname of mine, aren't you darling?"

"Well, I mean," You let go of them, shoulders gesturing a shrug, "It's kind of attractive."

"You know," Hange says again, grabbing your hand and leading you slowly to your bedroom, "One of these days, I'm going to make you say that in bed–"

"Hange!"

"Oh?" A chuckle escapes Hange’s lips, noticing the switch up, "Why the sudden change of names, hm?"

"You’re so mean to me."

"Maybe. But you make it so fun to tease you."

Soon you settle down in your bed, but not quite done in saying the name once more, almost like a mantra in itself. 

"Hans," You whine, reaching out to Hange who was still looking down at you with amusement in their eyes as you lay comfortably on the bed. Hange soon joins you in bed chuckling at your sleepy demeanor.

"Better be careful and not say that too much in public." A kiss was pressed down your forehead, "It'll ruin the magic, hm?"

“I know, I know,” You snuggle closer to Hange, “It’s a… hot nickname, okay? Get used to it.”

And Hange does, as the days drag on. You’ve both taken a liking to the nickname, and Hange couldn’t be more happy to hear it being said almost every single day. They don’t tire of hearing it even after being used as a last resort when they’re feeling particularly stubborn and impossible to deal with. In fact, they find it endearing. Endearing for the reason that you’ve got them wrapped around your little finger and they can’t quite bring themselves to let go.

They don't dislike the fact that ‘Hans’ is what you usually call them instead of the usual, couple pet names either. They even think it’s more special that way, because you both know it’s just for them. You use it sparsely

You use it when you’re feeling needy, to which Hange will always melt at.

You use it when you’re reunited after losing them in the aisles of the grocery store, to which you’re unaware that Hange strays away from you intentionally just to hear you say that name again.

You use it when you’re sleepy and dazed and can’t be bothered to say their whole name (even if it’s just two syllables). Hange doesn’t mind.

But sleep in peace with the knowledge that whatever name you call them, just know Hans will be running straight into your arms at the end of every day.

[moe-broey]

Amateur Hour but I gotta outsource this. Aromantics. Heed my call. What is "romantic" love to a non-believer?

Bonus Round if you're not entirely ace -- does experiencing any amount of sexual attraction influence your answer? Also acknowledging that both aro/ace identities exist on a spectrum. Believe me. I am deeply familiar... with so many kinds of spectrums........... 🧍

Also if this breaches containment It's Not That Serious........... just a personal question. For a friend. Me 🙂‍↕️

[puppyeared]

I made a lmk oc

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[scratching92]

What are you scratching exactly?

The boundaries of knowledge and truth, seeking wisdom not yet sighted by mortal eyes. Scraping away the wall of ignorance that holds us all back from our full potential.

Or something. I dunno. I just needed a handle that didn't feel like it had spent half a decade slugging it out in the trenches of RP forums.

[maplecaster]

chants of sennaar is a fun game if youre good at guessing what the devs were thinking

[theultracharmingladynoire]

I am pissed.

[georgia-stanway]

Fuck is going on with Cymru by the way seems an absolute mess. Of course we knew there was going to be a drop off post bale while the team re established itself but you'd have thought they'd at least have a plan? It's like Bale was the only thing holding them together ffs. Page seems to have completely given up, got four goalkeepers but no established no.1, called up morrell and Moore despite them being suspended for the qualifier match instead of trying out some new players no wonder they're struggling to sell tickets.

[munamania]

sooo. i was being so sad wet pathetic earlier btw. and then vengeful hateful mean angry. and then vulnerable skittish little creature. really a rough turn of events fortunate to have good friends but i do feel like an absolute immature embarrassing fool even though i Know they’re not thinking of me that way

[dravidious]

You're more amazing than a full minute

Werewolves need help but everyone else trying to help them is STUPID and WRONG so I did it better. You're welcome

Also an artifact that I just had the idea for and kinda sorta supports werewolves if you squint so I gave it Innistrad flavor and threw it in the batch. So there, unique support cards that aid werewolves in their transforming endevors without defaulting to the laziest possible-

"Why not just give werewolves flash?"

FUCKING FINE

You want flash so bad you can spend 3 mana on it

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

.

[misskamelie]

What do you know, my understanding of this foreign language is improving even if I'm not there to listen to it and use it, that's pretty good news :)

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[ambrosiagourmet]

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.