#it’s cemented into her being that she is

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

plane to paris

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~2k (including lyrics)

Warnings: angst, plane crash

Summary: Something tells you not to get on the plane, but all you want to do is go home and be with your boyfriend. The need to be in his arms is enough to ignore the glaring feeling in your chest. One that tells you not to get on the plane.

Square Filled: flooding for @badthingshappenbingo

Author’s Note: this is based on the song plane to paris by Nessa Barrett

x

Shouldn't think it or say it out loud What would happen if this plane to Paris went down? You'd be the first call I made to the ground What would happen if they told us today? Armageddon was minutes away I'd cry for you, would you do the same?

All you want to do is go home and sleep for the next few days. You must have caught a bug in Paris because you’re not feeling too well. Due to that, you’ve already extended your trip a few days than you planned to. Your mom and sister have been living in Paris for nearly a decade, and you visited them for two weeks.

You’re not closer to feeling better. Your mom wanted you to stay with them until you got better, but you miss your sweet boyfriend. He makes you feel better just by being in the same room as you, so you’re a bit eager to get home.

You’re sitting at your scheduled gate, waiting for the doors to open. You’re in first class, so you’ll be one of the first ones called. You down a small shot of cough syrup and chase it down with water. The gate agent steps up to the desk and starts to call forth the disabled, families with very small children, and military people.

“We’re now boarding first class,” she announces.

You stuff the cough syrup into your bag and get up. You take one step but stop because there is a heavy weight on your chest. A weight that has a clear message. Don’t get on the plane. You take another step closer to the doors, but your legs feel like cement pillars. Don’t get on the plane. You hand the gate agent your ticket, and she scans it with a smile.

“Have a nice flight,” she says.

Don’t get on the plane. You smile tightly and push yourself to walk across the bridge to the plane. You’re just being paranoid. It’s your sickness. Everything is fine. You put your bag in the overhead bin before taking your seat. Get off the plane. People pass by you to get to their seats, but nothing seems out of the ordinary. You just need sleep. You’ll be fine.

“Can I get you anything to drink before we take off?”

The aisles in first class are a bit bigger than the rest of the plane, so the flight attendant is able to stand next to your row while others pass by her.

Get off the plane. “Water is fine. Thank you.”

She leaves to take down more orders while you sit there in wonder. Get off the plane. Why? Why? What’s going to happen? Before you know it, everyone has boarded the full flight, and you try to relax in your seat. The flight attendant closes the door to the plane, sealing off any chance you have to get off the plane.

You should have gotten off the plane. You take out your phone and send a quick text to Spencer. Taking off now. Should be home soon. I’ll see you soon, my love. You put your phone on airplane mode as soon as the message goes through and lean back in your seat.

Everything is going to be fine. You’re just being paranoid. The plane is ready for takeoff, and everything is going as scheduled. Still, the unbearable weight on your chest continues to tell you that you should have gotten off the plane when you had a chance.

Now I know that nothing's promised Ridin' on a doomsday comet And all I can think of is you

Something doesn’t feel right. You don’t know what it is, but your internal moral compass is going off. 

The person next to you is calmly watching one of the movies on the screen in front of him. The person next to him at the window is reading a book. The girl across the aisle is busy playing a game on her phone. The other two next to her are deep in conversation. You look behind you to see everyone wrapped up in their own little world.

Everything looks fine, but something is wrong. You turn back around and down the rest of your water. Maybe it’s the sickness. You feel a bit light-headed. The cough syrup must have been the drowsy kind. It’s okay. Spencer is going to pick you up at the airport when you land, so you don’t have to worry about driving.

You’re about to try and catch some sleep when you notice someone passing you by. Aman walks down the aisle to where the cock pit, the bathrooms, and the flight attendant’s areas are. Something about that man has the hair on the back of your neck standing up. Maybe he’s going to the bathroom.

He mumbles something to the flight attendant, who immediately opens the door to the cockpit. Weird. This man didn’t look like the pilot. He steps inside and takes something out from his pocket. Right before the door closes, you see the glint of a gun in his hand. He aims it at the pilot's head and orders him to do something. The door closes, so you’re not sure what happens next.

Your first thought is of Spencer and what he might have done to talk the gunman down. You’re not a profiler. You’re not even in law enforcement. You’re a high school teacher. What makes you qualified to talk a gunman down? You’re thirty-thousand feet in the air. No one knows what’s happening up here.

Man, you really shouldn’t have gotten on the plane.

If you were with me in the exit row Wouldn't be quite so scared to go While the pilot prays and the engine blows Down we go

By now, the entire plane knows it’s being hijacked. Along with the gunman, there are three others that have bought seats. They roam the aisles to make sure everyone is behaving. Some children cry while their parents try to keep them calm. Mothers are protecting their children. Men are protecting their women. Even the ones who are traveling alone have found comfort in their neighbor.

You? Well, all you can think about is Spencer. What was the last thing you said to him in person? You can’t remember. Maybe if he were here with you, you wouldn’t be so scared. Maybe if he were here with you, you might make it out of this alive.

One of the gunmen walks past you, and you immediately take out your phone. You turn it off airplane mode so you can get a message to Spencer. Who knows if it will even go through? You’re probably over the oceanwhich doesn’t have cell towers. Still, you send the message with shaking hands.

Plane is being hijacked. Four gunmen. I’m scared. Please know that I love you and always will. It’s not fair to tell Spencer how scared you are because he is going to obsess over your last words. It’ll haunt him. He will know you’re scared. Still, you typed it because it’s the truth. The text doesn’t go through, but you know it’ll reach him eventually.

You slip your phone back into your pocket when the gunman walks by you. Suddenly, the plane is jerked to the side so hard that the overhead bins open. You look out one of the windows and see fire. One of the engines has blown.

Panic ensues. The plane is quite literally falling out of the sky, and there is nothing no one can do about it. Oxygen masks fall from the ceilings, and the gunmen scour the plane for parachutes they most likely stashed there themselves.

You’re not sure if you believe in a God, but you do what any other person does in a moment of true crisis: you pray. Pray that Spencer will be able to move on and live his life without you in it.

Mon amour, je suis tellement désolée Merci de me faire sentir aimée Je sais que j'ai besoin de toi Je t'aime pour toujours Je promets que ce n'est pas un au revoir Ladies and gentlemen This is your captain speaking You may want to make some phone calls at this time And get your affairs in order

Spencer has been feeling anxious all day today. It’s the day you come home after being gone for over two weeks. Not even that, but he might not be able to pick you up from the airport after all. Reports of a hijacked plane come through the channels, and Hotch needs everyone on this immediately.

Apparently, four men hijacked a commercial flight from Paris to New York. Why? He’s not sure. Is it about power? Do they want to maximize fear? Is there someone on the plane who is targeted? Is this just one attack, or are there more coming?

“Any news?”

“None. They haven’t even called in to Air Traffic Control for any kind of ransom or demands,” Penelope says.

Hotch turns on the news, which is covering the attack live. The plane is in the middle of the ocean, so there isn’t any live footage of it going down. However, that doesn’t mean there aren’t updates.

“I’ve just got word that Flight 2443 from Paris, France to New York, New York has suffered a blown engine. The plane is coming down hard with no chance of stopping. Police officials are working with the Coast  Guard to send out as many ships as they can before the plane can hit the water.”

Wait. Spencer’s eyes bug out of his head when he hears the flight number.

“Wait, Flight 2443?”

“Yeah. It left Paris this morning at eight,” Penelope says.

Spencer takes out his phone and checks on the messages you’ve been sending him. One of which is your flight information. There it is. Flight 2443, leaving Paris at eight in the morning.

“That’s the flight Y/N’s supposed to be on. She said she was sick. I hope she didn’t get on.”

He dials you first, but you don’t answer. He doesn’t wait a single second and calls your mother instead.

“Spencer, how nice to hear from you,” she answers.

“Is Y/N with you?”

“No, I dropped her off at the airport this morning. What’s going on?”

“I think…”

Spencer can’t say it. He fears if he does, it’ll be true. His phone pings, and he sees it’s a message from you. His entire chest caves with relief; however, it’s short-lived. Plane is being hijacked. Four gunmen. I’m scared. Please know that I love you and always will. You’re on the plane.

“Y/N’s on the plane.”

You're all I need At the end of everything You're all I see With the seconds left to live It's true that I loved you to death As I call your name with my last breath While the sky caves in You're all I need At the end of everything

The impact when the plane hit the ocean was jarring. The entire plane was broken into two, so the back of the plane is now missing along with its occupants. When the pressure was gone from the doors, all four gunmen had fled with parachutes on their backs, leaving everyone else to fend for themselves.

Screams ring in your ears as people fight to save themselves or their loved ones. Salt water fills whatever is left of the plane quickly. If you don’t get out of here, you’re going to drown. You sent your message to Spencer. He knows how much you love him. Half of what crashes into the ocean is never found. Will you be found? Will anyone?

You tug at your seatbelt, but it’s stuck. The water has either clogged the mechanics or frozen them. The girl who was next to you playing on her phone is now dead. Her neck was snapped upon impact. Who will get justice for these people?

You look to your left and are shocked when you see Spencer sitting there. The water is now up to your chin. You’re gonna die, but at least you have him sitting next to you. Even if it is all in your head. You take your final breath as you sink further into the ocean. It doesn’t take long for black spots to cover your vision.

Spencer looks as handsome as ever, unaffected by the water. You reach out and grab his hand just as your entire world goes dark.

x

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[arrimorr]

got the idea for this around two weeks ago when i snooping around in the textures for the balatro crossovers, so i decided to make some of my own but for tginf! if i had known when your birthday was i wouldve finished it up sooner lol. consider it a late birthday gift!

WHAT

Im sorry WHAT THIS IS INSANE GOD THIS IS SO MUCH WORK AND EFFORT YOU LITTERALY DID THE ENTIRE MAIN CAST OHHHHH OHHHHH WHAT

THANK YOU THANK YOU THIS IS SO COOL MY JAW DROPPED oooo I love them all so much 😭😭😭😭😭 You stylized them into pixel art so nicely, it's also generally fascinating to see what colors people imagine for some of the guys. OH THIS IS ABSOLUTELY CHARMING. A huge fan of the way you drew Pr Agent 121 (the second one) keep going back to stare at her again and again. AND OH TIME SELLER ONE IS GENUINELY CREEPY. Ohhh what an amazing stuff. Pr Agent 117 holding his little suitcase is so 😭😭😭😭🤲🤲🤲🤲🤲 Also really like the visual of said suitcase being mirrored and merging on both top and bottom of the card. THE TENANT WITH HIS WALLET IM TRASHING AND KICKING. AND OHHH THE MINE ONE IS SO MESMERIZING. I really like the color pallet, something something her blue eyes visually connecting her to the rest of Feudals in your cards. AND THE OXYGEN TURNED OUT SO CHARMING I CANT. She looks so giddy 😭😭😭😭🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺. AND THE KING THE KING ONE IS SO PRETTY IM EATING CEMENT. The Dummy looks so silly and fun this card needs to be cherished.

KDLSLALDLA GRR GRRR BARK BARK THANK YOU SO MUCH IM SHOCKED THIS IS SO COOL THANK YOU

[timkontheunsure]

Prophetic stars & dreams

Stolas was born to read prophecies from the stars.

And it's the job Via was born to replace, if Stolas couldn't be controlled.

Both of them seem to pick up small glimpses of the future outside of this work, about important things in their own lives.

And don't seem to really understand that's what's they're doing.

Feeling more like they get hints and nudges; that aren't always in the right order, can get confused with other similar events, and even are clouded by the emotions from their future selves.

The 11th birthday

Stolas starts getting prophecies as soon as he's handed the book. Putting these hints with his gut instincts as soon as his life's purpose is named by Paimon.  

He takes one look at Stella and goes all the nope.   

He sees Blitzo, and isn't just smitten; but stays that way for 25 years.

Blitz is important.

And out of all the teddies they could be playing within that room; Stolas wants to share his more important possession, knowledge, with his new friend. 

He has a small idea that he should share his books with his first friend.  Like he will do with the grimoire later.  It's important to do.

He knows Blitzo will be a good boss, and is very supportive of Blitz dream.

But Stolas does has a couple of questions about their conversation. 'A office for a circus business?'  Seems like he's got a feeling that it's not the right business plan.

The other thing he questions is if Blitz will really hire him. And this feels like it gives us a clue to how these powers work.

Stolas is only hired after his powers are stripped.  Seems like it makes it much more hazy for him to see. But he does think it would be a good thing to happen.

Via's nightmare

Octavia's had one unshakable fear for years.  That her dad will disappear from her home one day, and she won't be able to find him.

This is the same night. We see what scared tinny wee Via so much in Loo loo land. She saw what was happening in I Will Be Ok in Sinsmas. 

This is her nightmare.

Via's see her home after Stolas' banishment, and it becomes her biggest fear.  

No promises can make her forget it.

  This vision is why she's so sure that Stolas will leave her, running off with Blitz. 

She's been waiting for the other shoe to drop since he turned up.

And she's not the only one worried by this nightmare.

Stolas' assumed earlier death

Between the mandatory precautionary aire, the chronic depression, and the abusive wife; Stolas always appears to have expected to died young.

But it's likely that on some level he tuck Via's nightmare as conformation. With this being reflected in the lullaby he sings her back to sleep with.

He didn't expect to still be around when she's grown. But knew she'd physically be 'ok', and he tuck comfort in that. (It appears Stolas made sure that Via would have some level of independent, from Stella, as well as everything thing he owns; in the event of his death).

Again, this feels like he can't see properly see past having his powers striped. And appears to have assumed that ment he'd be dead before Via turned 18.

They both saw him as gone after all.

Think this is why Stolas is so extremely surprised Satan didn't just kill him. (Not just that he's unaware of his own privage. Those he definitely is that lol. These visions are only tiny glimpses acting as gut feeling after all).

And even when Stella tries to kill him he's pretty resigned to it. He doesn't want to die, but also doesn't seem to think he'll have much to a choice in the matter.

Home doesn't feel like home anymore

Via next vision gives her more information about her dad disappearance.

She gets 3 tiny pieces of information about it for her future self. And they cement in her mind that's it'll Blitz who'll take her dad away, because that's how Sinsmas Via sees it.

1 That home isn't home anymore.

That moment when she looks up and sees how different the palice is without her dad. There's no warmth or life anymore. With even her dad's pet plant dead.

2 And that Stolas will run off with Blitz

It's the first time her dad introduces them, in place that's ment to be comforting familiar; but it's understandable that she's scared.

Yer it's all coloured by how she sees and understand it at the time. Both for how she feels it now crying at Loo Loo Land, and how she feels in Sinsmas. All making the kid scared and anxious about the future.

3 Stolas will go somewhere she can't find him.

And there is a time where she can't find her dad.

I think Via comforted herself that she knew where her dad was.

Ok, he's not allowed the the palace anymore; but she could just go to IMP any time and there would be her dad with his shitty boyfriend. Safe, just waiting for her to come around.

And when he's not there, and he's not safe because he hasn't got his antidepressants; she gets terrified. Enough for it to be part of what she has sees will happen.

The horse stars

Oh and another cute one before we get more trauma.

Stolas's grimoire trys tell him about Blitz, the day the met as adults. By turning Ursa major into a horse, just as Blitz is trying to attract his attention at the window.

But Stolas has his eyes shut and doesn't notice either.

It's sweet that his magic tried to point out the love his life though it.

Via's rejection

She also sees that she's going to have the opportunity to see her dad, that he will reach out to her.

As well as that she will be too angry with him to take it.

Stolas' ways

Stolas was definitely bubble scrys to find out where Blitz is in Truth Seekers, and then he only steps in when IMP are out of options.

(Stolas uses Blitz's advice when captured by Stolas, so he was very likely watching a while there).

But I've gone back and forth on Stolas' reason for checking in the first place.

I think he's definitely put a curse on Blitz to make him practically bullet proof (Blitz hasn't ever gotten shot since Stolas hand glowed red in Ep1), and stop his guns being used against him.

Making them heat up and misfire, taking out the guy tried to use Blitz's stolen gun.

I'd assumed he'd had some sort alert for Blitz being in shit he can't get out of. Like when he and Moxxie were captured by the Dhorks.

But it did make me wonder why Stolas wouldn't turn up in chupacabra. When we now know he does in Mastermind, so it's not the heartbreak that would stop him if Blitz is really in stuck.

It's that Blitz could get himself out of there (with the help of a cute goat), so Stolas didn't get the urge to check.

This leads up on to...

Andy's ways (not the worst plan)

Andy says he's a similar job a power set to Stolas. This is why he can be fairly certain that not summoning him to the court, but having Satan broadcast the execution; will get Stolas to see what he wants. And only what he wants. (Not the fake rape accusation, or that Blitz now apparently paid Striker to kill him 🙄).

Otherwise it's a very dumb plan.

While lower class demons TV's turn on, and automatically play the trial; Stolas' doesn't.

Stolas is already got the TV on and is actively channel hopping before Andy's scheme makes it mandatory viewing for anyone. And Goetia aren't included in the Satan's power play.

Stolas even skips past his favourite show, helluva novella, twice to see Blitz's execution. He's got a little itch telling him he's need to flick over.

But because Andy does have a similar magic he can be pretty sure that Stolas will see it, and come running to Blitz's aid.

Knight in shining armour

Stolas has a fantasy about being rescued by Blitz, his knight in shinning armour.

It's a rock solid believe for him. To the point that he trys to make it happen twice, to a greater and lesser extent. (Only being shaken of it after Striker's torture).

First by hiring Blitz as an unnecessary bodyguards, to introduce his lover and kid.

And second by phoning Blitz to please rescue him when Stiker had him kidnapped.

While Blitz does save him, it doesn't happened either time Stolas was expecting it to.

It happens after his powers are striped; and he isn't expecting anyone to help him. He was expecting Andy to kill him.

(Stolas was going see Via or die trying).

And Andy would have if Blitz didn't realise where Stolas had gone, and take IMP and Via with him.

Gonna chalk this is up to a combination of similar things similar things happening make it much harder to understand when things are going to happen. And the full knight in shinning armour moment doesn't happen till after Stolas is striped of his magic.

Hummm actually Stolas specifically tries to make it happen Twice.

And Blitz is his big romantic rescuer twice. Guess him seeing it twice could explain why it's such a rock solid believe.

Stopping Stiker in Harvest Moon Festival could count, but Stolas doesn't find out till Apology Tour.

And that's a really shitty way to find out Blitz did that, because not telling Stolas someone wants him dead nearly got him killed.

Like Via's emotions from her visions are colour how she feels, so do Stolas'. Stolas is definitely a dumbass feeling it has to be Blitz savings him, but it might explain a little why he's so stuck on the idea.

(He's a daft salty bitch lol, but we love him).

Striker's demise

Think both of these are hints on how Striker will die. That Stolas will destroy Striker if he hurts Via. Which seems certain he'll do.

But even though I do think at the start of this scene Stolas believed Blitz would come for him; I think he'd given up all hope by the point Striker's asks for any last words.

The rest feels like was going to be "Blitz...will... kill you".

Thinking this means that both dads will fight Striker together to save Via.

Like how M&M fought together to save Stolas. We've only seen them fighting singularly before. I think it would be amazing to see them together fighting to keep her safe and sound.

With Stolas having the last hit to protect is little girl, and the dead blow.

The flames of rebellion -Stolas' last prophecy

Stolas tries to warn the court that treating Blitz badly could spark revolt of imps.  

Then Satan call Blitz a pawn, and throws him out like trash. Completing it by saying on live TV that his life doesn't have matter compared to a goeita's. 

 This is after Andy already stepped on Blitz's face, telling him he should know his place.  

It would be funny if Stolas' last official prophecy was predicting imp rebellion, because of their ill treatment to his lover.

[twasmayfield]

day one | seaborn.

description: at natasha and bradley's wedding, you meet a friend of theirs named bob, who charms the hell out of you. and then you wake up in your hotel room on the morning of said wedding.

warnings: fluff, first meeting with bob, afab reader, no use of y/n, language, bob is a BIT ooc (i cannot capture characters' personalities 😭), mentions of bradley and natasha, mentions of alcohol.

a/n: this was rotting in my gdocs so i decided to fix it up a bit sigh.

“And to Nat and Bradley,” the chattering of the wedding guests died down as you raised your flute of champagne up, causing the guests to do the same. “Congratulations on the wedding.”

Natasha gave you a smile, mouthing out “thank you” as she and Bradley both raised their glasses before another bridesmaid took your place, making you slink away to the open bar. You let out a yawn, rolling your shoulders back as you set your flute down on the bar and waved down a bartender with a tight-lipped smile. Anyone within ten feet of you could see that you were exhausted—either it was sitting through the ceremony that basically cemented the fact that you were the only single one left in your friend group—Natasha was now married and Callie was basically going steady with that girlfriend of hers—or it was due to you being up since the crack of dawn (you were exaggerating) for makeup and walking around all day in heels that you were sure was going to give you blisters.

You wouldn’t say that you were extremely unlucky when it came to love and relationships as a whole. But you couldn’t deny it either. The only actual long lasting relationship you had was the relationship that lasted through your college years, and then he had the audacity to break up with you a year after graduating. Sure you were heartbroken, but then you started recounting everything in those four years and you realized that you should’ve cut him loose earlier. Maybe it was because you craved stability—your relationship was anything but stable—and he seemed to bring that to the table. Kinda.

Snippets of the other bridesmaid’s speech broke you out of your haze and you watched as the bartender poured something in a glass for you. They filled it halfway and you looked at them with a raised brow. A few seconds passed before they poured a bit more and slid it towards you with a nod. You thanked them, taking slow sips on it as the bridesmaid finished her speech. You did it better than her though.

The band started playing the first few notes of some romantic song you couldn’t figure out and you watched as the guests started to get up to dance. You stayed situated at the bar, noticing a guy with glasses. Somehow he looked out of place and not at the same time, one hand pulling at his tie slightly. You caught his eye—his very blue eyes—and you gave him a smile and a raise of your glass. He mirrored you, raising his own glass as well. Well, he’s not too bad then.

You waved him over, seeing him look both ways before he pointed at himself to which you nodded. You racked your brain, trying to figure out where you’ve seen him before. You couldn’t have passed him on the street because why would he be at the wedding of your close friend if he was a stranger? The guy strolled towards you as the band started another song. “Friend of the bride or groom?” You asked him as he stood beside you.

“Both actually,” he let out a small chuckle, pushing his glasses up. “You?”

Oh he knew both Nat and Bradley—they probably worked together then. You finished your drink, placing the empty glass on the bar as you blinked slowly, your legs suddenly feeling like lead. “Friend of the bride. We were childhood friends.” You replied, shaking your head when the bartender made a move to refill your glass. You offered him your name as your eyes landed on Natasha and Bradley slow dancing in the middle of the dance floor. They looked cute.

“Robert.” He offered, finishing his drink as well. “They call me ‘Bob’ though.”

You nodded, rolling your shoulders as you looked up at him. “Wanna get out of here?”

Waves washed up against the sand as you held your heels by the straps, bare feet on the wet sand as you trailed beside Bob, who had his tie undone and his suit jacket resting on his arm. The moon was bright, its light casting on the ripples of the water. The night felt eerie in a way, but you shrugged it off to the coldness of the night’s air and the random chirping of crickets that the waves somehow didn’t drown out.

“That was a nice speech, you know?” Bob commented, breaking the comfortable silence that was between the two of you.

You kept your eyes glued to the sand below you, shrugging. “Thanks. I just… said what was in my heart, I guess.” Bob hummed at that.

“I mean it though,” you fidgeted with the straps of your heels before you looked back up, meeting his eyes. “Nat and Bradley, they—they deserve only the best.” You sighed and Bob nodded at your words, reading between the lines and understood what you were trying to say. He left it at that and the two of you continued walking, reaching a cave lined with rocks with all sorts of shapes.

You sat down on the sand, leaning on one of the rocks and not caring that sand was sticking to your dress. That was tomorrow you’s problem. You patted to the empty space beside you, inviting him to come and sit down next to you. Bob compiled, sitting down beside you with his legs crossed.

The two of you sat in silence, listening to the waves and the occasional sound of crickets chirping in the far distance. Eventually, you broke the silence and you shared your favorite food and he, in return, shared his favorite songs and genres. He told you about his mother and sisters and how he wanted to be a naval aviator because his dad was one, and you listened to his every word because he had a tinge of a southern drawl that your ears caught on after a few sentences. You recounted your silly adventures with Natasha from childhood and all the way up to the end up high school when you both promised to keep in touch as you were accepted into a different college than her. And strangely—in some weird way—you two shared more similar interests than you expected.

A strange crackle of sound was heard from inside the cave that caused you to tilt your head in confusion. Bob stood back up, straightening his back as he looked down at you, an unreadable expression on his face. “I’ll go check it out.”

You watched as he made his way towards the cave, disappearing into it a few seconds later and the only existing piece of him was the jacket he left behind on the sand. You waited a few seconds, trying to distract yourself, but then realized that Bob should’ve come out by now. You strained your ear, trying to listen for something—anything—and then getting up yourself.

Usually, caves were supposed to be dark at night, but this one was glowing faint blue. Bob had completely disappeared and there was light in his absence. You held your hand up, watching as the blue light danced around your hand; a tingling feeling in your hand that felt like pins and needles as it looked like your hand was somehow disappearing with the light. That somehow made you sober up, trying to pull your hand away. “What the fuck?!”

Your eyes widened in panic as a burst of blue light surrounded your entire body, pulling you in deeper and deeper before your body got sucked in.

Your phone alarm blares at you, causing you to grumble as you blindly grab it to turn it off. You open one eye, swiping the alarm close as your eye catches the date and time on your lock screen. May 15th, 7:00 am. The same date as yesterday. You notice the hotel carpet and the clothes you were wearing. You peel the comforter off, grabbing your phone and checking it again. Same time and date. This isn’t real. This can’t be real.

Your door opens and Natasha peeks her head in with a smile. “Hey, you coming?” You nod at her question and give her a tight lipped smile before she nods and closes the door again.

This isn’t happening. You were definitely dreaming.

You needed to find that guy. Now.

[aerinmoriarty]

Some quick thoughts about The Black Dog:

I've always interpreted this line in The Black Dog as: Brand Taylor told Real Taylor she needed a Brave Man, & Real Taylor BECAME that brave man (hence "playing him")

This could likewise be a reference to Taylor writing the narratives of her relationships with men a la Performance Artlor.

Taylor brags about being good at writing bad men because she IS the "Bad Man." And this is why she's the ChairMAN. Other people have been referred to as Chairwoman or Chairperson to illustrate that those titles exist in TTPD, but not Taylor.

Later in the song, she speaks of pledging to a cruel fraternity, which further cements the idea of her as the man.

Fraternities are for men.

Taylor would know sorority is where women typically pledge.

And sororities have hazing too-- often as bad or worse than fraternities-- so it's not even that she needed to use fraternity for the hazing metaphor to land.

[rosebud1770]

Some Mel HC, because I Promised them and she lives in my Brain now!

- Dislikes using guns. She’s more than capable of it, having been taught by Mud, but much like her dad, she prefers it up close and personal. However, she isn’t a bruiser. Mel relies heavily on distraction and speed, letting the guys draw fire while she wrecks havoc.

- Mel is obviously very manic, but this spreads to most of her emotions. She doesn’t really cry, beyond tears of laughter, even when she’s sad, it’s normally still met with laughter, or quiet? But genuine, sad tears? Never. She can get quiet, but that’s reserved for when she’s truly nervous.

- She’s Trans! She came out around her 13th adoption day, having Confided in mud first. While society has moved past Transphobic views, the rare insect of a rotling is quickly taught a lesson by the family, not she ever really lets it get to her.

-she can sing, but really only does at the request of Breadhead.

- Very much a Tomboy. Dresses don’t interest her in the slightest, although she does enjoy make up. Really, overall fancy clothes, both masculine and feminine, bore her to tears.

-She doesn’t actually view Ken as her dad, or so she tells herself. He is absolutely her father, but she struggles with it when they’re alone, as him being “dad” has become so entrained in the lie. He is her father, as difficult as it would be for her to actually sit down and face.

-she’s had a collection of boy and girl friends, not that any of them really last long, either getting cemented, or she simply loses interest.

- Hates angels, hates looking at them, hates hearing them. She wants nothing to do with them ultimately.

- While far from a people pleaser, deeply craves Ken’s affection and pride, she wants to know she’s been more than a burden on him. She knows the risk he took raising her.

[pokesturns]

STURNIOLO FANFIC ⇢ the word that broke and built him

sum. matt comforts liv after a rough daycare day, treating her to ice cream and park playtime. as they bond over swings and dandelions, she calls him “dad,” a heart-shattering moment that cements his role, leaving him teary with overwhelming love.

feat. matt sturniolo

cw. fluff. heartwarming. family dynamics. slice of life. no warnings. sfw.

wc. 1325.

matt’s hands gripped the steering wheel of his beat-up sedan, his knuckles white as he pulled into the daycare parking lot in los angeles, the late afternoon sun cast long shadows, the sky a bruised orange that mirrored the ache in his chest.

he was still navigating the weight of being y/n’s partner and step-dad to her three-year-old daughter, liv—a role he’d embraced with fierce love but gnawing self-doubt. y/n’s text from earlier replayed in his mind:

liv had a bad day at daycare. some kid upset her, made her cry. i’m stuck at the hospital, can you get her?

his heart had twisted at the thought of liv’s tears, and now, as he parked, his black hoodie rumpled from a day of errands, he steeled himself to be her rock.

inside, the daycare buzzed with the chaos of pickup time—kids shrieking, parents chatting, the smell of crayons and apple juice thick in the air. matt’s sneakers squeaked on the tiled floor as he signed in, his eyes scanning for liv. her teacher, ms. clara, met him with a gentle frown.

“she’s been off since lunchtime,” she said softly. “a boy teased her about her bunny. she’s over there.” she pointed to a corner where liv sat, her curls a tangled halo, her stuffed bunny clutched to her chest. her little face was splotchy, her big eyes—carbon copies of y/n’s—glossy with hurt.

matt’s throat tightened, a protective ache blooming in his chest. “thanks,” he murmured, crouching a few feet from liv, his voice as soft as he could make it. “hey, livvy. it’s me, sweetheart. ready to go home?”

liv looked up, her lips trembling, and something in matt cracked at the sight of her pain. she nodded, barely a whisper of movement, and shuffled over, her tiny hand reaching for his. her fingers, sticky from some forgotten snack, curled into his palm, and the trust in that touch nearly undid him. he lifted her into his arms, her bunny pressed between them, and grabbed her backpack, his heart pounding with the need to make her world right again.

in the car, he buckled her into her car seat, brushing a curl from her face. “rough day, huh?” he said, keeping his tone light, his eyes meeting hers in the rearview mirror. “wanna tell me about it?”

liv hugged her bunny tighter, her voice small. “tommy said my bunny’s ugly. he said it’s old and i’m dumb for liking it.” her words wobbled, and a fresh tear rolled down her cheek, glinting in the fading light.

matt’s hands tightened on the wheel, a flash of anger swallowed by the need to comfort her. “livvy, listen to me,” he said, his voice steady but thick with emotion. “your bunny’s not ugly. it’s special because it’s yours, because it’s been with you through everything. tommy doesn’t get that, and that’s his loss. you’re not dumb—you’re the smartest, coolest kid i know.”

she sniffled, her eyes searching his in the mirror. “really?”

“really,” he said, forcing a smile past the lump in his throat. “how about we ditch this sad stuff? let’s get ice cream and hit the park. you and me, kiddo. sound good?”

her face brightened, just a flicker, but it was enough. “chocolate ice cream?” she asked, her voice hopeful.

“you got it,” matt said, his heart lifting. “chocolate for my favorite girl.”

they stopped at an ice cream truck near liv’s favorite park, the one with the yellow slide she could climb for hours. matt ordered her a small chocolate cone, the kind that always left her chin a mess, and got himself a vanilla soft serve, something simple to keep his hands busy. they sat on a bench, liv’s legs swinging, her bunny propped beside her as she licked her cone, chocolate smudging her cheeks. matt wiped it with a napkin, his touch gentle, his eyes tracing her face like he could memorize every freckle, every fleeting expression.

“better?” he asked, taking a bite of his own cone, the cold sweetness grounding him.

liv nodded, her smile shy but real. “yummy,” she said, then leaned her head against his arm, her warmth a quiet anchor. matt’s chest ached with love, with the weight of being her safe place, even if he still wondered if he was enough.

“wanna tell me more about tommy?” he asked, his voice soft, giving her space. “or we can just eat and forget him.”

she sighed, a big, dramatic toddler sigh. “he was mean. but you’re not mean. you’re nice, matt.” her words were so earnest, so pure, they hit him like a wave, stealing his breath.

“you’re nice, too, livvy,” he said, his voice rough. “the nicest. don’t let anyone make you feel less, okay? you’re my superstar.”

she grinned, chocolate smudged on her nose, and matt laughed, the sound shaky with emotion. they finished their cones, and he carried her to the playground, her bunny tucked under his arm.

he pushed her on the swing, her laughter ringing out as she soared, her curls flying in the breeze. “higher!” she squealed, and matt pushed harder, his hands steady, his heart full. they raced to the slide, matt pretending to lose as she scrambled up the ladder, her giggles echoing as he caught her at the bottom, spinning her until she was dizzy with joy.

as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the park in a soft twilight, they collapsed onto the grass, liv nestled between his legs, picking at dandelions. matt wove a flower crown, his fingers clumsy but careful, and placed it on her head, the yellow blooms glowing against her curls. she beamed, her earlier hurt forgotten, and leaned back against his chest, her bunny in her lap.

“you’re the best, matt,” she said, her voice sleepy, content. then, so quiet it could’ve been a dream, she looked up, her eyes wide and trusting. “dad, can you hold my bunny for me?”

the word—dad—landed like a thunderbolt, shattering matt’s heart and piecing it back together in the same breath. his breath hitched, his eyes flooding with tears he couldn’t stop, his throat so tight he could barely breathe. dad. she’d never called him that, not in all the months of bedtime stories, scraped knees, and tea parties. he was matt, her protector, her playmate, but dad? that was a gift he’d never dared to hope for, a word so big it felt like it could swallow him whole.

he blinked hard, trying to keep his voice steady, but it came out raw, trembling. “yeah, livvy,” he said, taking the bunny with shaking hands, holding it like it was sacred. “i’ll hold it for you, sweetheart.”

she smiled, oblivious to the earthquake she’d caused, and snuggled closer, her flower crown slipping, her breathing soft and even. “i love you, dad,” she mumbled, her words slurring with sleep, and matt’s tears fell then, silent and unstoppable, streaking his cheeks as he wrapped his arms around her.

“i love you, too, livvy,” he whispered, his voice breaking, his heart a beautiful, gut-wrenching mess of joy and awe. he wasn’t her dad by blood, but in that moment, with her warmth against him and her bunny in his hands, he was hers in every way that mattered. the doubts he’d carried—was he enough? could he be what y/n and liv needed?—crumbled under the weight of their trust, their love, that single, perfect word from liv.

the park was quiet, the sky deepening to dusk, but matt didn’t move, holding liv as she drifted off, her flower crown askew, her bunny safe in his grip. y/n would be home soon, and he’d try to tell her, his voice thick with wonder, about the moment their little girl made him whole. for now, he sat there, his daughter in his arms, and let the overwhelming, heart-shattering love of being dad carve itself into his soul.

©pokesturns any and all forms of modifications, reposts, and translation of my work are prohibited.

[generalluxun]

I don't like Alya in Revelator. First, Vincent was a D-Bag, but he wasn't a criminal. Her and Marinette using their powers against him comes off as abuse. Second, she knew Marinette had no intention if ever telling her. That last was just one last swipe. Allowing her memory to be erased was cowardly. I honestly think the episode should have ended with her keeping her memory and her and Marinette's relationship being strained as a consequence of her abuse of power.

Alya would not have kept the secret. So she had to allow her memory to be wiped to not cause all the strife she knew would come.

It wasn't about protecting Ladybug, it was about Adrien deserving to have Ladybug tell him. She still trusts Marinette to do the right thing now that she was given a shove.

Alya using illusion is just fun shorthand for donning a disguise. It allowed for some creativity in the design.

I have no notes for Alya in Revelator. Cemented her in my top 3.

[thenextlordthorpe]

The matinee could have gone so different, and he knew that start of their combative relationship lay at his feet. If he hadn’t gone in their antagonistic, taking out his anger on her in hopes to offend his father to the point of dismissal then something else could have happened between them. He was reckless, angry and rarely thought things through before he committed to them, and it had gone wrong in so many ways, yet he kept doing it and knew it was not a habit to change. Life on a ship or galivanting in the last few years couldn’t even be to be blamed, it was just him. They’d both done wrong to each other, but he knew where it started. And he had been so angry, so upset and nobody to take it out on until he saw her at the matinee. It was her event; he didn’t need to be so horrid, but he had been.

“I think even if you did do as she dreamed and fell in love with a prince or a viscount or anyone like that, she’d still find something to chastise you for and seek something to be disappointed with.” The tears in her eyes burrowed in him with guilt knowing that he had been the one to make Oliver lose his job, something they would need with how much their loves would change. An item was taken but the only person it would effect was him; his actions would cause more hardship to three people. Still, the acknowledgement of how much they meant to him softened him almost instantly. The two of them getting on, the heaviness of their conversation without the usual sparring was such a strange, yet surprisingly welcome, change but he didn’t know how to react to it. “You would have slapped me far worse than I did,” he says with the hint of a smile creeping through. It’s a bad attempt to lighten and deflect.

There was pity for her. A baby created out of genuine love should be celebrated and Juliet should have the support of someone who experienced childbirth. Again, the guilt got even worse and his mind drifted to his own mother and the day he found out she’d died giving birth to their beloved sister, Emily. Hearing how all those years she had cried for a mother for none to come cemented just how needlessly cruel the Lady Thorpe was. She’d be no better as grandmother, he thought. If she couldn’t offer Juliet support when she was a child, he couldn’t see her grandchild changing it. “I know you have Oliver,” emphasis on saying his name purely for her benefit, “but there are women who help, or I’d seen people like that in other countries. There are physicians here but I heard of midwives to help and reassure the expecting mother. Oliver will be a great support to you, but this is your first child, if you need a midwife, I can help provide one.” Lady Thorpe would be against it and he wasn’t sure where his father would stand on the matter but after all he’d done, he wanted to help in the small ways he could.

Her tears never had an effect on him until now and the way the conversation was going, the heaviness and the vulnerability of it, affected him. He thought he could control it but then she asked the question and the memory of being ripped from his bed and taken to the ship without warning flooded him. Lump in his throat, he tries to answer, shakes his head as he looks up to the ceiling to avoid her gaze feeling tears forming dangerously fast. “No,” he says attempting a smile to deflect again. “There wasn’t an opportunity. He wasn’t there when I was ar- when I was bought back here.” If the past version of his arrival saw the two of them now, or if anyone in the house did, they’d have such a shock. No malice between them, just sympathy and understanding.

Shaking his head, he looks to her and feels the urge to reassure her as much as he can. “No. No, Juliet. All you did was throw a party, your first one, in your home and then your insipid, bratty, new brother turned up and took out his anger out on you when it was undeserved. I led in an antagonistic way from the very start.  You didn’t do anything except treat me with how I treated you.”

He laughs at her question but its kind as he blushes lightly, and he shows the inside of his wrist. The marks from the shackles had pretty much faded. “Sailors have tattoos to show their rank or accomplishments. I should have rope right here,” he traces the place where it should have been, the place he’d traced on another so much in the past. “It means I worked on the deck. Very low rank. Then I should have a nautical star but that one more for luck, a swallow because of how many miles I travelled, an anchor for similar meaning. Its shows far you’ve come but as you can see…I have none. I’d be at the mercy of all the teasing for it, even when I climbed rank! I thought my father and mother would have a heart attack if I came back covered in them.” Sometimes, he liked to picture how they’d look on him.

She spoke so much sense to him in ways that he didn’t think of or even care to entertain in the past, but she was right. His own foolishness had clouded even the most rational of thoughts about his circumstance. He looked at her, eyes soft but his chest heaved with heaviness. Frightened. She’d read him so right and with such ease that he started to feel uncomfortable, but he knew he couldn’t deny her thoughts on it. So he nodded at her assessment, unable to admit it vocally but she was right, and they both knew it. “If I’m at a brothel, I won’t die alone,” he teases in an attempt of humour.

“You are so romantic in your thoughts but not everything is a fairytale love, sometimes it just ends and there’s nothing to be done. He was a man of the sea right from birth and his family had deep history with it. I wouldn’t ask him endure this life even it meant we’d endure it together.”

Juliet had been quick to blame everything she ever could on Tobias - everything and she knew she had to take responsibility for the part she had played that night, that damned night at the Sinclair household that played over and over like a horrific dream. The sneers, the whispers, and it had only gotten worse by every moment, and Juliet could barely remember all of it. She could only remember the taste of vomit in her throat as she had clung onto Oliver later on, when he had found her - and then of course the altercation with Tobias and her mother. It had been a nightmare, a true nightmare - and Juliet found herself unable to sleep, tossing turning - not just the nausea that overtook her, but the mere anxiety of what was happening in her life. She had done this to herself - she had made the bed herself. It was her that had taken the trinkets that Tobias cherished from Miss Kate, it had been her that taunted him to get him back for ruining her spring matinee - and had it been worth it? She closed her eyes now, looking away with shame. Had it been?

"You are right. It would have not changed a single thing, I imagine. I - I did a horrific thing, if only to get you to hurt just as much as I hurt. I had been so foolish, so cruel - if you had taken the trinkets that I had from Oliver and destroyed them - I scarcely imagine what I would have done. Tobias - " She looked him in the eye, tears behind such pretty doe eyes. "I hope you do forgive me, perhaps one day." Juliet had sent the watch away for repairment, but she hadn't told Tobias that - she much rather it be a surprise for him to unfold.

A chill went down Juliet's spine as she brought the blanket around her shoulders, shaking her head. "There is no other person to help me with this besides my Oliver. I want no one else - and as for a mother figure- " Her eyes looked saddened as she looked to him, a soft chuckle was let out. "I have long known that I did not have a mother's love nor help for anything. That was not surprising to me - not when I had turned the age of only five and cried for her and no one came - and then six and then seven and then eight - and I had dearly lost track." Juliet swallowed hard, wiping away the few tears that fell now, clearing her throat.

How cruel both their parents had been to them - how undeniably and horribly cruel. These two were the children of cruel souls, of broken love and promises - and no wonder they had spit out such vitriol to each other, as it had been all they had known. Juliet felt a tug of such sadness fill her - a wave of true pity for her step brother as she kept her hand on his arm. "I am - I am more sorry than I could ever say for what you have been through, Tobias. You - You did not get to say goodbye to him - this sailor of yours?" She asked, her voice soft and curious. The more she heard, the more nauseated she felt for doing what she had done and more tears built up behind her eyes.

"I made it ever so worse, didn't I? You came back to this and to my fluttering and to my arrogance in taking over your home, your mother's home. How unbearable for you to have seen that." She softly told him, a tear escaping from her eye. "I can only say - with my dear Freddie having just come back from the war, my father gone and new family and father forced upon me whether I liked it or not - I only behaved like that because I felt ever so trapped - and there you entered, feeling even more trapped than me." She told him, her voice still soft as she kept her hand on his arm.

"Thank you, Tobias - thank you for calling him that." Juliet softly smiled and arched an eyebrow. "Your lack of tattoos made you less desirable? I would think it would be your mouth and your incessant speaking." She jested, a small laugh coming from her.

"Have you - Have you thought that you can become the man of Thorpe on your own terms, Tobias? You needn't have to be a man of schedule and spies like your own father - you can be different than him and do what you wish to do. You can scorn society if you wish, marry who you wish. You are a bloody prat if you don't see that - for every woman in this world has to do as they say, and if not - face the most serious and life altering consequences." She looked at him, pointedly and sighed. "You can do with the responsibilities as you like - leave them or have them, but it would be whatever you want and your father would have no power over you." She paused, her eyebrow still arched.

"I think you are frightened, dear brother - frightened of the responsibility it will yield. What is your end result then - if you do not become Lord Thorpe? To bed thousands of men and women with your charm and die alone at a brothel?" She tsked, shaking her head.

"He might despise the society of it all, Tobias - but he also might endure it for you, and the two of you can endure it together, find your happiness in it together. Do you not think so?" Juliet asked, and perhaps it was ever so naive, even stupid to still believe in a fairytale love, after what she had been through - but she did.

[deaneyrs]

dany refers to herself as a queen even when she isn’t sitting on the iron throne (which is all the time) because that is the role she sees herself in regarding every aspect of her life now.

[bet-on-me-13]

Danny commits to the Bit a bit too hard...

So! For the first few weeks after his accident, whenever Danny would try to help the people of Amity Park, he would be treated as a Villain.

No matter if he had just defeated the Big Bad of the Week or saved a Cat from a tree, everybody in town only saw him as a Monster or Villain to he feared and hunted down. Danny was really getting sick of trying to get them on his side, until Sam made a suggestion.

"Why not just...play into it?" She said, barely looking up from painting her nails.

It was just an offhand suggestion, but it stuck with Danny. Why shouldn't he lean into it? The people of Amity Park already saw Ghosts as Evil, and they already assumed he was in cahoots with the Ghosts attacking the town. Why shouldn't he just...play into it?

So he does just that.

From that day on, whenever Phantom was spotted he would dramatically monologue about his Evil Plans, or claim that another Rogues attack on the City was his own act of terror.

Box Ghost destroys the towns Warehouses? It was on his orders.

Ember mind controls masses of Teenagers? All part of his Plans somehow.

Every Adult in Town is kidnapped by Young Blood? Danny gave them over to a friend as a Gift.

He crafts an identity for himself as the most Vile and Horrible Ghost that has ever attacked the City, using his own infamy to cement his legend even more firmly. The town only sees a Monsterous Villain, who has eveded capture near effortlessly for months on end, who constantly attacks their City and gets away with it.

Of course he still needs an excuse for how his plans keep getting stopped, and he gets it when his girlfriend Valerie becomes the Red Huntress. Before that, he just claimed infighting or the Fentons getting lucky, but Valerie becoming the Town's Hero meant he had a plausible excuse for how he kept getting "Foiled".

Val was suspicious, because she was not as involved as Phantom painted her to be, but in the end she had no proof of him faking his defeats. And she couldn't come up with any explanations for why he would do that in the first place. I mean, who would fake being a Supervillain? It had to he something else.

This did come back to bite him a while later, when the Justice League decided that enough was enough, and dispatched Justice League Dark to recruit Red Huntress and help Deal with him.

Coincidentally, that was the same day Pariah Dark attacked the Mortal Realm and sucked Amity Park into the Ghost Zone.

And honestly? Danny had spent over a Year proclaiming himself as a Villain who commanded Ghosts to attack the Human Realm, and he had heard about the Right of Conquest being Absolute in the Ghost Zone, so why not make it official? Why not overthrow the Ghost King, become the Ghost King, and cement his identity as a Villain while also forbidding Ghosts from entering the Human Realm without his permission?

He may have gotten a bit carried away and forgotten that the Villain thing was a disguise...but hey! He was still preventing Ghost Attacks! ...mostly. That's got to count for something right?

He may have let the Bit run a bit too far...

...

Check the tags for more context!

[chryseis]

I know she's divisive, but Jaina Proudmoore is truly The Most Character of all time. She had sexist magic rules changed in her early teens. Her boyfriend broke up with her twice and the second time was because she wouldn't commit genocide with him. She built a city of refugees when she was like 25. She was exiled from her home country for helping kill her own father so that he wouldn't commit genocide. She loves to make sarcastic jokes and is the living embodiment of 'not to worry i have a permit' 'this just says i can do what i want'. She and one of her best friends hated each other half the time until he died. She once tried to kill her other best friend. People were upset with her for being angry and traumatized when the city she built was annihilated. She fucked a dragon. She almost committed genocide and her allies were more angry about the fact that she once gave some money to her adoptive nephew's friend. She's switched back and forth between political sides three different times. Her mother nearly executed her for treason. She was handed the leadership of her home country that she hadn't lived in since she was a young child. She now spends all her free time with her work husband from like 25 years ago even though he has a wife and two kids. Who is doing it like her

[elizabethrobertajones]

What I am getting from the new short story is that Wuk Lamat needs a hot shetona girlfriend who juuust superficially resembles Erenville in some ways to make him kind of uncomfortable but never enough to actually say something to anyone.

Also, she is basically the chosen one of the jock lesbian orange cat type guys, born to it in a way Alisaie had to fight and scrape to achieve :')

[otherbug]

light's the kinda girl who tries weed once and experiences horrors beyond her comprehension (forced to confront parts of herself she never wants to acknowledge within her lifetime and the feeling of any sort of control over herself being ripped away is torturous.) meanwhile while L claps her hands and says "oh watari! cases have been slow, bring me more DMT!" and watari goes "yes madam here you are..." with a fancy silver dish of watari-brand edibles perfectly catered to L's tastes

[bulletbilltime]

One of my favorite tropes I've seen in some LiS fics is when Max is able to bring Chloe and/or Rachel with her when she time travels or time stops. The intimacy of breaking the laws of space-time with someone you love is just... ough

[randomnameless]

Glancing at something on Ao3 -

What kind of feelings Jerry was supposed to evoke, actually?

FE16 pushes the player - through Billy - to consider Jerry as a good parent, because it plays with the red herring about the evil lizard lady being evil.

And yet, even with all of his misgivings about his kid, Jerry is still the one who calls Flamey's bullshit and wonders if running away from GM wasn't the stupidest decision he ever made, just before kicking the bucket.

Being the cheap copy of the Ike'n'Greil relationship, Jerry's presence and death is supposed to be important to Billy - even in Tru Piss where they look pissed at seeing Emile and working with Uncle'n'pals.

And yet, unlike what we learn about Greil being the chadest amongst chads with 1 (one!) blackspot to his record, whenever you talk to characters about Jerry you're met with... less than rosy thoughts, even if the characters apparently handwave it away.

Let it be with Leonie, or even Alois, Billy learns that their dad wasn't the chadest of chads like Greil, but a drunkard (before Citrus' death, since Alois was a kid!) who apparently played dangerous games with people who idolised him, left his kid alone to be showered with praise by Leonie's village as he dealt with bandits, and left bar tabs all around the continent for his "apprentices" to pay.

Come the "journal" where, imo, we learn that dude was so afraid of his baby not being "normal" than he ran away from the odd lady who saved them "a long time" ago and who's pretty much not normal himself, and the place where his own wife, who displayed - partly - the same "abnormality" as their baby grew up and lived.

Then Nopes happened and did a number on poor Jerry - from mocking their kid's potential aspirations at being something else than a sword for hire, to their singing (done to cheer him up!) and actually learning he at times apparently let them go without food while he never invited them to the "thank you" parties throwns by the people his company saved...

Billy still loves their dad, but is he a good dad by any means?

With all that knowledge, after playing both FE16 and Nopes, can we really feel upset when Jerry kicks the bucket? For Billy maybe, because Jerry is important for them, but does it has the same echo as Greil's death, or even, to remain in Fodlan, Rodrigue's?

I guess if in Nopes, Jerry acted on his heel-face turn (or suddenly growing a brain) from his penultimate FE16 dialogue, we could have had a character growing beyond the red herring and the "unreliable narrator" stuff FE16's first part gave us, and maybe make for a more grounded-complete character, like confessing that he panicked after Citrus' death and worried for Billy, but regrets not being able to bring them the best life they dreamt of, and willing to apologise and let Billy grow in the same environment Citrus did.

Or maybe even explore what Jerry did in 300 years, if he never bothered to wonder why the fuck was he living to be as old as the elites, or his thoughts and feelings about Rhea periodically using hairdye to pretend to be someone else and "aging" even less than him...

Given how - or maybe i'm tainted by the fandom - FE16 thrived on the playerbase feeling characters/situation "relatable" from a doylist pov, I guess Jerry running away with bby!Billy because they weren't "normal" wasn't as weird as it sounds, babies should rightfully have a beating heart!

Bernie is a hikkikomori (forget the part where she's supposed to be the heir of one of the most important lands in Adrestia which would rightfully make her father disappointed with her (lbr, Greg would either have tried to get another kid with Bernie's mom, or got a second wife/bastard, or picked a branch member of his house to take his succession), Linhardt falls asleep and doesn't want to do his job as the next minister of Finances/whatever his dad does and prefers to hyperfocus on academic research ? How lol (please ignore the implications of House Hervring's heir being, uh, not interested in whatever his father does and how he is supposed to inherit his job (at least before Supreme Leader starts her war and pulls out her "reforms")).

Between the brackets are the first arguments that come to mind, if we consider the world those characters live in, aka Watsonian wise.

Jerry is worried about his baby's heart not beating and them not being normal? Jerry, you're not "normal" per Fodlan's standards yourself, you're over 300! Your wife had the same difficulties to emote than your kid and she might or not have had the same "heart not beating" syndrome given how it's her own heart that was transplanted in your kid

You know that what is "normal" for regular humans in Fodlan do not apply to you, your wife or your boss who oddly looks like your wife. So why was that argument even considered when you decided to run away and condemn your child to a life of "sword for hire" and danger at each day ending with a -y ?

IDK, it's as if, in BK, Kalas' bro, born without wings - which is an oddity since apparently everyone is born with some in this verse - finds Kalas weird for only having "one wing" and not two like everyone. It would be the pot calling the keetle back (but since BK is a game with coherent writing, this never happened).

Jerry runs away with the baby because the baby isn't normal despite the midwife assuring everyone they are?

Legit

300 yo Jerry runs away with the baby because the baby has the same condition as their mother despite the "immortal lady who saved his life" assuring him the baby is alright?

WTF

So, in the end, what are we supposed to think of Jerry?

Was he a character who made the best situation out of the shitty cards he was handed regarding their kid?

Or a character who swallowed an idiot plot ball to play with the doylist red herring, made errors but ultimately saw the light before being Clownya'd?

Or, given his supports and Nopes, a shitty character whose only redeeming point is to be Billy's dad, and who receives a lot of leeway by virtue of being Billy's dad by the writing team (given two fans) and the first game being from Billy's POV?