#i was just thinking about the get help bit they did on desire island and then my brain went 'i wonder if he and lizzie did this as kids'

[gilliontidestriderchampionoftheu]

you know how in early campaign chip was really pushing the brother/sister dynamic onto jay? do you think he was projecting lizzie onto her?

[saetoru]

So tell us how the first kiss goes between y/n and suguru in rich! boyverse 🙏🏼

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。IF ONLY — GETO SUGURU. (rich boy! au)

based on this — disclaimer: this is a side au! to rb! gojo but it’s not rly part of the “story.” it’s just for fun and builds off the au, but you may disregard it !!

contents. college! au, rich boy! gojo + geto, reader is dating gojo, cheating (reader on gojo w geto), mutual pining, a make out kiss ; notes. uh….it’s here guys. the first installment of mr. geto “steal your girl” suguru. we have sinned the ultimate sin 🚶🏽‍♀️ rip satoru my babie </3

dating satoru should be enough—it was enough. but then suguru came along, and, well….suguru is magnetic.

his voice is that deep husk that sends shivers down your spine, his hair is long and frames his face so flawlessly, and when you catch a glimpse of his skin when his shirt rides up, you can’t help but think about the way he’s so defined. sharp, like he’s cut from stone, suguru is sculpted perfectly. satoru is everything you could have asked for….but suguru? he’s like a dream you didn’t think was a reality.

“hey,” he greets you sweetly as he opens his door, “you’re early. satoru hasn’t even left his house yet.”

early—you’re not early. you’re desperate. desperate to catch suguru alone. desperate to enjoy his company without feeling bad. desperate to stare at him while satoru isn’t there to notice. you didn’t come early by accident—you chose to be here before satoru.

“hi,” you grin, “you wound me suguru. don’t you wanna spend time with me?”

“i didn’t say that,” he chuckles, flicking your forehead affectionately.

suguru has always done that, he’s always been good at touching you in that casual way that’s so endearing and so dizzying—but it never crosses the line. his fingers tap against your forehead when he’s playful, and his hand steadies you on the elbow when you trip, and sometimes, he even hugs you with a squeeze that’s nothing more than friendly even though it makes your heart stop.

suguru is so alluring—and even when you have everything you need with satoru, you can’t help but want what you can’t have.

“i hope you got snacks because i require them,” you hum, sitting on island of his kitchen and swinging your legs back and forth.

“i did,” he snorts, “i got your favorite—”

he stops when he looks at you, has to pause and stare as you’re sat so casually in his home, looking so sweet and innocent and so, so pretty. you’ve always been pretty—you don’t even know it, how perfect you are. it makes you that much more desirable, makes him want to tell you every day until you believe him that you’re so god damn pretty.

and then he has to look away, has to ignore those thoughts that pop in his head about how it almost looks like you’re his, sat in his kitchen and asking for his snacks and smiling at his figure and seeking out his company. it almost feels like you’re his—almost.

so close, yet so painfully far.

it makes him a bad friend. he knows that—satoru has been glued to his side since he was a child. suguru doesn’t think there’s ever been a time he remembers without satoru, and he’s always liked it that way. loved it, in fact. satoru is a good best friend. the greatest, even. and he’s just as good of a boyfriend too—suguru should respect it, should put his head down and fight his demons and forget about his fantasies with you.

but then you pout as you whine, “gimme some, then. what’re you waiting for?”

“they’re for the movie,” he huffs, “don’t think i’ll share with you if you’re out of snacks before we finish the movie.”

“aw c’mon sugu,” you tease, giving him that dangerous smile of yours, “you’ll share with me, won’t you?”

yes. he’ll give you half of his soul if you asked. he’d carve out every bit of him to complete you if you needed him to, if you asked him to—he just needs you to ask. just once, he needs you to ask him.

“you’re a handful,” he mutters, “get your own snacks.” but he grabs a bag of chips from the pantry anyway, walks up to you and presses it to your hands. your fingers brush together as you reach—just at the tips, just barely for it to even count as a touch, but it makes you both still anyway.

he’s close. you can smell his cologne. he can smell your body wash. your fingers don’t pull away. his inch a little closer and feel your skin a little better. your face is close. his leans closer. and then you’re leaning in too—why are you leaning in? why aren’t you stopping? why isn’t he stopping?

and then it happens. his lips are on yours before you even realize it—you don’t even realize it, that’s the worst part. you don’t even register that you’re kissing suguru, your boyfriend’s best friend, the only one he has, because you’re so busy being lost in the feeling. his lips are warm, so soft and delicate and fuck, they’re a bit chapped and it only makes you want him more.

what other imperfections does he have? besides chapped lips, what else is there to discover? maybe his hair isn’t as soft when he hasn’t washed it after a few days. maybe his hands are a bit rough and calloused. maybe he has a scar or two from his childhood.

you don’t know, but you need to find out.

your hands are cupping his cheeks, making him lean into your mouth shakily, arms pulling you closer desperately. his arms are strong—they hold you tightly like you have nowhere else to go. and then when you take a chance as slip your fingers into his hair, to feel those strands you’ve only ever been able to stare at, he whines against your mouth.

like he wants more. like he needs more. like he’s always ever wanted more.

“c’mere,” he pants, “closer.”

you can’t help but listen. can’t help but lean closer and let him stand in between your legs as you’re sat on that damn kitchen island—you’ve kissed satoru against this same island. in secret. in a kiss or two you sneak when suguru doesn’t look. in a hopeless daze of want and need that always turns into more as soon as you’re both in private.

and now you’re kissing suguru. and it’s not enough. you need more—you feel like you can’t live without more.

“suguru,” you murmur, just because you need to taste his name on your lips when they’re whispered like that—like he’s yours.

“yeah?” he breathes, forehead pressed to your as his lips hover over your mouth—his breath is shared with yours, breathing you in and exhaling you out so you can inhale him too.

your hands are back on his face, thumb tracing the skin of his cheek so gently, it almost hurts that he’s gone this long without feeling you.

“i just wanted to say that,” you mumble, pecking his lips softly. he hums happily, closing his eyes as he leans into your hand and smiles.

“yeah?” he chuckles, “say it again—”

“guys i’ve finally arrived! the answer to your prayers,” satoru calls, opening the front door from the distance, “i know you’re bored without me. don’t worry, i’m here now.”

you pull away faster than lighting when you hear satoru, like suguru’s touch is the spark that’ll kill you if you let it near. he steps away, watches in slow motion as you plaster that lovesick grin on your face as satoru walks in and leans in to kiss you so softly—so carefree, so openly. like you’re his. like you belong to him. like you’ve only ever wanted him.

does satoru even realize? does he even notice the dazed look on your face and the plumpness of your lips? does he even notice the way your breath is short and a little puffy?

“toru what took you so long,” you pinch satoru’s cheek, “i’ve been waiting for you.”

“missed me huh?” satoru wiggles his brows—giddy, he’s always so giddy to be around you, always so happy to have you as his.

satoru is so lucky—and the worst part? he realizes it too. he doesn’t take you for granted, doesn’t ever leave an opening for suguru to take.

“don’t get a big head,” you roll your eyes, wrapping your arms around his neck as he slots himself between your legs—right where suguru was just moments ago.

“yeah, satoru,” suguru says before he can help it, staring right into your eyes as he speaks, “don’t have a big head. what if we didn’t miss you?”

“don’t be mean suguru,” satoru pouts, “you always miss me.”

if only he knew, suguru thinks, if only.

OH GOD. I FEEL SO BAD. but i love it 🤭

[servingrobin]

If you're still doing requests, could we get some Sanji love? Maybe something like his flirty nature constantly flustering a new crewmate and falling for them over time?

I adore this man heart and soul, even if he is an absolute rogue. This did become smutty but I’ve started it if that’s not your thing!

Warnings: fluff, small angst if you squint? (Y/N is a lil insecure), NSFW at the end but I’ve marked it - oral (f receiving), Sanji being a little bit of a pervert

Your little island home had been infested with some terrible loan sharks. You’d been fighting bravely for years to end their reign of terror and set your family and village free.

When Luffy had seen your dedication and perseverance he knew you had to join the Straw Hats. It helped that you were also from a family of seamstresses and could mend clothes like nobodies business - he never needed his crew to have jobs but anything to help was always appreciated.

So when your village had been freed and your family were secure, you’d jumped at the chance to join the Sunny and explore the world you’d never even dared think about before. The crew became your family in a matter of weeks - all except one.

Sanji the chef was an unstoppable flirt. He complimented you every time he saw you - how beautiful you looked, how stunning you were, how the glittering ocean paled in comparison to you.

The problem was he said the same things to Nami and Robin as well.

You were impressed at first, harbouring a small crush on the handsome blonde from first meet, but as you heard the same compliments fall from his lips for the other women, you realised perhaps you were a little blind to real attraction. Sanji was just naturally flirtatious.

You couldn’t help your responses to his flirting though, red blooming across your cheeks and nose at every comment, bashful giggles that had Zoro rolling his eyes.

“The moon and stars dream of your beauty Y/N”

“A lady must not carry a thing, here let me take these for you.”

“A sweet treat for my fair lady.”

Sanji saw it and liked the effect he had on you, locking in on the thought of you reciprocating his interest, determined to fluster you even more.

As time went on Sanji focused on you even more, growing to genuinely adore your kindness and humour, the way you were so gentle with others. It was when he saw you helping Chopper pick flowers for Robin that he decided he must really truly have you.

So Sanji upped his game - every cool summer drink he made the girls, yours were extra lavish. Every compliment he gave a woman, you would recieve ten. Yours was the hand he held to help off the ship, yours was the name he called when grouping off to explore. Every lingering touch was to your body, every rose given to you.

But unfortunately all you heard was the odd compliment he still threw at Nami or Robin, the general flirting in every direction, blinded by your own self-doubt.

You wandered the ship one evening, ruminating on the whole ordeal. Your little crush had grown into a soft and purring love in the pit of your stomach, but you truly didn’t know if you’d ever have it reciprocated. It was unfortunate for you that it was Sanji that found you, leaning over the rails of the Sunny, tears pooling softly in the creases of your eyes.

“My darling what is wrong?” Sanji was immediately concerned.

He placed a gentle arm around your middle to catch your attention, other hand rising to collect your tears on his fingertip. You sniffled and shook your head.

“Nothing Sanji, don’t worry about it.” You attempted a watery grin and started to pull away.

“Nonsense! My beautiful woman cannot be upset - tell me what has caused this and I will fix it for you mon amour.”

You laughed bitterly, “yours? I don’t think you can use that word for so many women.”

Sanji blinked before the slightest understanding dawned on his face.

“I am a lover of women you understand Y/N - I enjoy making people feel desired….. but you are on a whole other level to me now. I had planned to make a big declaration for you but I will say it now.” He paused to take a breath and fell to his knees before you, eyes wide.

“You are a goddess among women, where most are beautiful you are exquisite. To set my eyes upon you is like waking up to the sunrise. You inspire in me feelings I have never felt before….. I do believe I am in love with you, even more so than I ever thought I would love someone. “

He was breathing hard by the end of his confession, staring at you with endearing puppy eyes. You were in awe, brain short-circuiting at the idea of Sanji returning your feelings.

You placed a hand to his soft face and grinned at him, tears forgotten.

“…. I feel the same.”

Sanji let out an exaggerated gasp and jumped up from his knees holding your hand to his face as he swooped down to brush against your nose with his.

“May I kiss you mon coeur?”

Instead of answering you simply closed the last few millimetres to press your lips to his. Sanji let out a throaty groan and gripped you by the hips, kiss deepening as his tongue brushed against your mouth.

You were both a panting mess when you finally broke apart. Sanji fell once more to his knees and placed a kiss to your clothed hip.

“Please my darling, let me show you how much I worship you.” His face was earnest whilst his tone was both begging and sinful.

*******NSFW********

You nodded, completely flustered. Sanji gave a small smirk before focusing in front of him. He dropped his hands to your ankles and worked his way back up in fluttering touches, raising your long skirts as he did.

Soon they were bunched around your hips and he crept a hand up to push you down against the steps behind you, leading up to the helm. You sat at an angle as he pulled you forward by the waist, until the edge of your ass was against the step.

Sanji made quick work of removing your underwear and you were too entranced to see them slipped into his trouser pocket.

There was very little movement for a few minutes and you finally cracked an eye open to look down - to see Sanji staring at your pussy in what could only be considered euphoria.

He caught your eye after a moment and grinned lustfully, leaning forward to lick a grand stripe across your slit. You threw your head back at the sensation and preemptively placed a hand over your mouth, very aware of the crew asleep beneath you.

“No mon Cherie, let them hear how good I make you feel.” Sanji whispered against you with a gentle slap to your thigh.

He began licking in earnest, long exposing swipes that sent shocks through your body. He alternated between kitten licks and sinful suckles on your clit, pausing when you let out a keen.

“I’m so close Sanji please.” You almost sobbed.

“That’s it my darling, beg for me. Tell me how good I make you feel.” He purred, fingers coming up to circle your tight hole.

He sank his index finger knuckle deep and started to move it in a gentle come hither motion. You were starry-eyed, babbling as you breathed like you’d tan a marathon.

“Please Sanji please you make me feel so good, make me want to cum so bad, yes just there….” You suddenly gasped as the knot in your stomach came loose with spectacular fireworks, Sanji coaxing your through your climax with continuous stripes of his tongue.

When you finally came down from your high you rocked forward to kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips. You groaned and licked at his mouth, drunk on your own taste on the blonde.

The sensation was too much for Sanji and with a broken cry into your mouth he shuddered, moaning out your name in a broken whisper.

You looked down at his deflating trousers and smirked whilst Sanji looked away, cheeks burning red

[limabean42]

✎ Anxiety exploring art with an artist partner ✎

Anxiety won the poll on who I should write for next. I got a request though so I prioritized that but here you guys go!

-

• While Anxiety doesn’t think about art that often she can appreciate the dedication you have to it

• She first discovered you were an artist when she saw you painting at an easel near the window in headquarters

• You were painting a clown, like the one on goofball island

• “Why are you painting that?” she asked

• You shrugged and just said because you want to

• Anxiety was intrigued. She rarely ever had mental clarity to pursue a hobby. Always filled with worry about the future

• She just stood there next to you for a moment thinking of how you can actually have passions and interests outside of Riley

• I mean she knows the other emotions have a sense of self as well but you just seem more carefree about it

• “Would you like to try?” you asked her

• She thought for a moment, getting anxious about the what ifs. Like what if she gets too wrapped up in painting and misses a moment to help Riley?

• You noticed her overthinking and placed a hand on her shoulder making her flinch

• She finally said that she would like to paint with you

• You grabbed her an easel and canvas and she grabbed a paintbrush like it was a foreign object

• You took it from her and put it back in her hand the proper way

• Anxiety didn’t know what to paint so she asked you. You responded with whatever was calling her the most. It didn’t have to be something in person but anything she could think of

• After a few minutes she decided to paint you

• You were flattered and a bit shy but tried to play it off

• She studied you closely and painted a portrait of you painting a clown

• It was a beginner level painting as expected but very wholesome and cute

• Anxiety felt strangely calm while painting and proud of herself after completing her masterpiece

• Immediately she rushed to hang the canvas on the wall, declaring everyone should look at it and tell her what they thought

• You were proud of her and gave her a big hug from behind accompanied by a kiss on the cheek

• After that you both would paint together more often

• Art wasn’t her main focus but she did enjoy it

• Before she tried painting she saw it as a waste of time, for herself at least

• Since then she’s come to realize that she is her own person as well as a part of Riley

• She loves to watch you draw in your sketchbook and on your drawing tablet

• It’s fascinating to her how you can just visualize something in your mind and recreate it in real life

• “Can you teach me how to draw now?” she asked excitedly after seeing you on your tablet

• You call her over to the couch and teach her what to do and press to get her desired product

• Anxiety hyper focuses very easily on anything she’s intrigued by. Right now she’s fascinated by the way your hand moves, connecting lines to create a bigger picture

• The other emotions are glad she’s found something to occupy her time with other than sitting in her massage chair

• So much respect was gained for you once she realized how genuinely creative you have to be to be an artist

• As a gift you give her a sketchbook

• Most of her sketches are of you doing various things around headquarters. You joke with her saying it’s good practice for drawing hands

• She likes sitting with her massage chair on while she draws, even though the constant shaking makes the line work a little wonky

• When she’s stressed she draws what she’s feeling. These pictures are mostly considered abstract with various colors and chaotic swirls to represent her anxiety

• While she’s in her head you drop what you’re doing and start drawing with her so she doesn’t go through her paranoid thoughts alone

• Your sketchbook is filled with lots of things, including some cute drawings of her

• Even your drawings that aren’t of her have part of her in them. Like if your drawing is in the center of the page there will be a tiny sketch of Anxiety at the bottom with a speech bubble above her head saying something random

• It really shows how much space she takes up in your mind

• With most of her sketches being of you it’s safe to assume that you take up a big spot in her mind as well

• “I hope I can be as good of an artist as you one day so we can continue to improve together”

-

Thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed and I’ll be getting to requests tomorrow :)

[maxwapan]

can’t stop thinking about teacher Leon omg ...,, (๑˃ᴗ˂)ﻭ

cw! teacher/student,, some suggestive wording too,, just me rambling LOL

The ‘stay after class for extra credit’ trope is lame and boring sorry... I need Teacher!Leon to be like a concerned father figure, always there for you and always making lame jokes in front of the class… no one laughs at them though!!

He’s the type to tap you on the shoulder when you’re taking a nap, taking bout’ some “you okay, kiddo? Didn’t sleep good?” like no dad… erm, I mean, Mr. Kennedy :3…

He ruffles your hair and gives you a special little nickname depending on your appearance, a name that’s special to you and you only. Cause you’re his favorite student! And he’d tell you too. “you know kid,” he would whisper, as if telling some big secret, “you’re my favorite, you know that?” he’d pass it off as teasing, but he SOOO means it. Especially with the stupid smirk he wears on his face right after.

Accidentally call him dad once and he chuckles, a knowing grin on his lips. He gets sooo smug about it too like, “Did you just call me dad?” SHUT UPPP!!! Like oh em gee old man please i’m burning up.

GOSH Death Island Leon especially fits this role. Like he just gives dad…

The other Leon’s that could pass as teachers I think would be RE6, Vendetta, and Infinite Darkness :3 Except Vendetta would be stricter and meaner, acting as if he doesn’t care about you (he totally does). You miss one of his assignments and oops you’re in his office spending hours in detention. He just scolds you the whole time, but eventually settles for some heavy petting while doing so,,,

He treats you like his child but also has some desires… constantly restraining himself from pulling you onto his lap like a little babe while grading papers (ᗒᗣᗕ)՞ gets his cock real nice and chubbed,,, he feels like a pervert for it too. Can’t help himself though! At the end of the day, he’s just a man </3

I would so be his little teacher’s pet… bring him apples everyday LMAO he’s like aweee for me? He’s like the cool dad teacher everyone likes, totally chill but strict when he needs to be. Do not play with him though omg he will humiliate you in front of the class I know he would!!

Gym teacher Leon Gym teacher Leon omg!!! Tells you to run laps around the field house and pushes you to your limit just to see you sweating and panting… sorry I would not survive..!!

ALSO AHHH RE2 LEON !! he’d so be a substitute teacher omg… closer to your age, real handsome and sweet,,, I like subby re2 but I can’t stop thinking ab him praising me for doing some good work ^-^ The students have to help him out a bit on courses sometimes though… little idiot…

sorry just a little rambling but guh in conclusion teacher! Leon is a need…,, (≧◡≦) ♡

[baek-at-it-again95]

Intro: Siren (Sailor! Hongjoong x Siren! Reader

Synopsis: Killing men is all you have ever known—it's what your species does. However, you have recently begun to question your purpose. When given the chance to save a human, your experience leads to new discoveries

Warnings: Mentions of death and violence.

Genres: fantasy au, angst, fluff?

A/N: Helloooo atiny babies! HAPPY HONGJOONG DAY! I was supposed to be writing a four page paper on the odyssey and ended up being inspired to write this. What can I say? LOL :) Thank you for so much love with the previous hongjoong series as well <3

You lie on a bed of rocks near the shore of your island, listening to your older sisters gossip and giggle amongst themselves. They always talk about rather useless matters. Your tail glistens beautifully, each obsidian-colored scale appearing shiny when the dense clouds decide to reveal the bashful sun. The waves that crash over the rocks create a refreshing mist that dusts your grayish skin. The voice of your eldest sister interrupts your relaxation.

"Y/N, you have not joined us to hunt humans in a while. Have you become weak?" she asks sharply. Your other sisters giggle. 

"No," you answer quickly. "I...I have just been thinking a lot. What is our purpose? Why must we kill humans? We do not even eat them." Another one of your sisters places her hand over her chest, surprised.

"Why must we kill them? Oh, Y/N, we are just helping the world. Men are vile creatures. They cause every problem. They destroy the world and then destroy themselves. We are doing the gods a favor."

"They cannot all be bad." You argue, cheeks feeling warm with embarrassment. Are you wrong to think so?

"Do not be foolish, Y/N. If you get yourself into trouble, I can only say I warned you," your eldest sister speaks again. You avoid her eyes. 

"Look!" Another sister points to your left and all of you follow her clawed finger. A large ship approaches fast from beyond. Speak of the devil. Your sisters gasp with excitement. "This will be fun!"

"Y/N, come with us this time. It will be good for you," the eldest says. You reluctantly push yourself off of your rock and slide into the water below. You follow behind all of them, consumed with guilt for what is to come.

With just a few strokes of your strong tails, you arrive at the ship. You station yourself a bit farther behind everyone else as usual. One of your sisters mischievously splashes the surface of the water with her tail, causing a commotion for the humans on board to peer at. Just as she desires, a man comes to the railing, pointing and calling over his crewmates. One by one, more men join him at the railing and look on in fascination. With all of your tails now hidden under the dark water, they must think you are mermaids or sea nymphs. They do not fear you as they should.

The last man to appear at the railing piques your interest. He is similar to you, the way he quietly positions himself farther from the others in the group. While the onlookers pay attention to your sisters, you make eye contact with the man at the end...and you can't look away. 

He is the most beautiful creature you've ever seen.

You cannot possibly stay and watch as your sisters kill such a beautiful thing. Ridden with guilt, you disappear below the waves and swim to the other side of the ship. 

Once you surface on the other side, you hear a voice from above filled with concern. "Miss!" You look up to see the same human, looking down at you again from the other side of the railing. Why did he follow you instead of watching your sisters making all the commotion?

It is then that you hear them. Your sisters begin to sing, their voices like honey but dripping with venom as they lure their prey. You panic as the human turns his head toward the other side of the ship. You cannot let him die. They can't kill him. You quickly begin to sing a soft melody yourself. The human suddenly turns back to face you, entranced by your voice. Despite refusing to sing for quite some time, it comes naturally, your voice as sweet as always. 

You continue singing, luring him with your sweet melody until he plunges into the waves beside you.

***

You had pulled the unconscious human to the shore of your island, your strong tail allowing you to arrive quickly. You hurriedly laid his body on the pale sand and retreated back into the water to watch him from a safe distance. How will he act when he wakes up? Your sisters have always told you human men can be violent and unpredictable...but you have only seen them under the influence of your enchantments. Besides, this human did not look at you in that way. 

After observing him from afar for some time, you begin to get antsy. The human does not stir, just lies peacefully, chest rising and falling slowly. You cautiously swim closer, looking for any more signs of movement. Pushing yourself onto the shore, you sit yourself next to him. Now you are able to take a longer look at him, his eyes closed and his lips slightly parted. There is sand in his soft, wet hair, and his pale skin is flawless. He is truly the most beautiful creature you've ever laid eyes on. 

"Hello?" you whisper meekly. No response. Curiously you draw closer to his face, touching his cheek slightly. When he does not move, you boldly trace your finger across his sharp nose and jawline, fascinated. "Pretty," you say out loud. A sound nearby causes you to look up, eyes darting around to look for any sign of a threat. When you don't see anything, you look back down at the human. His eyes are now slightly open, peering up at you. You gasp, scooting away from him.

"Wait," he says. His voice is angelic, so soft and light. He tries to sit up but holds his head, stifling a groan. You hurriedly move back to him, lightly touching his head in concern. Your eyebrows furrow together as you observe him, your thumb brushing over his temple gently. He stares at you in awe. "Did you...save me?" You look at him with wide eyes, nervous about talking to a human. You have only used your voice to sing for them, killing them one after another for as long as you can remember. You are afraid to hurt this one.

You decide to start with one word. "Yes." Your species has the ability to speak in any tongue in order to lure your prey with a song they can understand.

"I see, how—" You see his gaze land on your tail, eyes widening. "A mermaid?" he questions. Should you lie to him? You do not want him to fear you. Mermaids are a completely different species. Though you have similar anatomy, they have much more colorful tails, and they lack the ability to lure their prey with song. You must have taken too long to answer, because the man says, "Yes?" 

"No." You look at him nervously before letting out another word above a whisper. "Afraid."

"Afraid of what?" You watch as his gentle hand comes to hover over yours. As his hand touches yours, you tense, but immediately relax at his warmth. Humans are warm. You forgot that they are, since their bodies soon turn cold after dying. 

"Hurt."

"It hurts for you to speak?" he asks, his eyebrows furrowed with worry. Maybe now you can try more than one word. 

"No. I do not want to hurt you." He tilts his head.

"Your speaking hurt—oh." He glances at your tail again. "You must be a Siren."

"Yes," you reply, eyes wide since he figured it out. Humans are intelligent.

"Why have you not killed me?" At this, your heart sinks. Is he afraid of you now? Maybe it was a bad idea to even interfere with your sisters' plans. What will he do when he realizes they killed his shipmates? You think about your words carefully.

"Killing humans was all I knew for a long time, but I do not wish to hurt them anymore. My sisters think there is something wrong with me." The man's eyes search yours with a gentleness you've never seen. Your free hand comes up to touch his face again, just as you did when he was still asleep. "Beautiful," you say suddenly. The human touches your hand that traces his face, looking at you with the prettiest brown irises.

Why do you kill these human creatures? 

He draws closer. "Y/N!" The piercing voice of your eldest sister calls from the water. You pull away from the human, struck with fear. Following the fear comes a sudden jealousy. You do not want your sisters to see him. He is yours. "Y/N, have you finally killed something? Let me get a look!" She laughs, swimming closer. 

You cage his body protectively with your arms and hiss at her. "Mine!" 

"Alright, alright. But I want to hear all about him later." She smiles, disappearing into the dark sea. You turn to the human, fear evident in his features. 

"You are not safe here," you say. Your guilt returns, the uncomfortable feeling arising in your stomach. "You must go home. I will take you back to your abandoned ship, and I will pray to the gods that you arrive safely home." 

He seems hesitant, but he agrees. "Thank you for saving me. You are very kind." As he thanks you, the realization that you would be parting from him completely sinks in. An emotion you have never felt before begins to overwhelm you. You touch your face, wiping at a warm liquid that falls onto your cheeks. You look down at your hands with confusion.

"They are tears," the human says. "It happens when you are sad." You look up at his now blurry face, feeling more tears drip down your cheeks. "It will be alright," he says, using his thumb to wipe them away. He stops suddenly, proposing an idea. "Come with me."

Leave with a human? Humans and Sirens cannot coexist...can they? No human has ever left this island alive. But you could change that. After all, you have grown tired of your life here. Killing men and listening to your dreadful sisters every day is not what you desire.

If you cannot leave with this human, you would rather die anyway. 

"Yes." You use the back of your hand and wipe away the rest of the strange tears coming from your eyes. "I would like that."

[herlockslimbo]

summary of rui’s wl chapter cause it made me ueuueueeu (spoilers ahead)

so the first chapter opens with wxs discovering a new island in wonderland sekai. they need to find the map to "star island" and then they see a phoenix soaring above with this very map. i forget if the phoenix like. already had it or they snatched it, wxs then decide to go on a quest to find the phoenix and get the map back. to do this they must journey the island, so they set off!

(rui's chapter begins) the first place they encounter is a village of plushies, and along with them, some "zombie plushies”. we learn that the zombie plushies are outcasted from the others because they're "scary and weird", and rui immediately motions to go meet the zombies. they meet them and it turns out they greet by biting lol, but rui isn’t put off at all, and bites back. everyone introduces themselves, then asks the zombies if they knew about the phoenix. the zombies refuse to give information because they think the others might be faking kindness, and are probably scared of them like everyone else, and they don't want to help people who "hate them", so they run away. rui kind of pauses for a moment, and rin asks what's wrong, and rui says that their words resonated with him, because the plushies remind him of his old self. (pl end)

rin asks what he means and i'm just gonna spit the dialogue here bc i think it's better to just read this part

(also disclaimer i have extraordinarily limited japanese knowledge, i’ve read this whole thing through online translators, and a bit of doctoring to fix machine error)

(disclaimer two i just realized i forgot to fix this text, the “thinking about this and that” is in reference to his plan to keep wxs together, and specifically keep emu with them. i just phrased it weird. )

after this rui says that he can tell that the zombies really do want to make friends, they’ve just been rejected so many times they’ve given up, like he did. he then says he wants to make them realize their dreams and make them come true, like wxs did for him.

the gang approach the zombies and rui suggests the zombies do a play to convey their feelings. it is settled to do an altered version of “potato ghost”, the show from wonder halloween, and the zombies take the role of well. the zombies. they play around and show the plushies they’re not scary, and that actually being a zombie is fun. the others plushies see this, and start to befriend the zombies.

rui watches this unfold and he’s so happy he was able to help the zombies, and see their true desires. he pops out a tom gray quote reference about breaking down the barriers of people’s hearts and i died a bit.

the gang finds a new clue for the phoenix via the zombies. and we move on.

this is literally everything i could have asked for in his chapter i maybe cried a bit. i love you rui kamishiro.

[vivalas-vega]

real friends / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader / part one

hehe a new fic, this honestly started as a one shot and then I got carried away, what’s new. excited to explore this sorta-enemies to sorta-friends to lovers idea!!! lmk what you think :) (the summary is weak, I’ll update it tomorrow when I have more brain capacity)

real friends / jake ‘hangman’ seresin x reader / part one

add yourself to my taglist

word count: 2.8k

warnings: jake’s an ass but he redeems himself, mentions of death, language, think that’s it

“What the fuck, Bagman?” you asked, storming after him through the hangar. 

“Can I help you with something, Cobra?” He turned to face you, that megawatt smirk stopping you in your tracks as a new wave of anger rolled through you.

“Just living up to your name, are we? What the hell was that up there?” You threw your helmet down on a nearby table and stared up at him with an intensity he had to genuinely try not to be rattled by. “We’re supposed to be teaching them something, us staying at Top Gun is not an excuse for you to fuck off and showboat and play darts at the Hard Deck every night.”

“I think I did teach them something, sweetheart.” His nonchalance was infuriating, prickling your skin and filling you with a desire to hit him.

“And what the hell might that be?” you questioned.

“What to do if you find yourself without a wingman. You know better than anyone it can happen in the blink of an eye,” he said and you felt your heart drop. Somewhere behind you Bob dropped his coffee cup, the sound of ceramic colliding with the concrete registering faintly in the back of your mind as you stared at Hangman. Rooster and Phoenix had been watching from a few feet away, casually enjoying the latest Cobra-Hangman showdown but now looked between the two of you in utter horror at the words Hangman dared to speak.

“Cobra-” Hangman started, realizing what he had said too late. “Fuck, that’s not what I meant,” he took a step towards you, arms outstretched as if he wanted to pull you in but you took a step back, shaking your head at him.

“You said it, Hangman, least you could do is be a man and own it.” you sneered, giving him one last look laced with disappointment and disgust as you pushed past him. Rooster went to follow you but Phoenix stopped him.

“Give her a minute,” she muttered, walking up to Hangman. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” she asked and he was at a loss for words. She just nodded her head and walked towards the door you had just stormed through, “she genuinely cares about you, you know,” she said, stopping at the door and calling out to him, “you have a shitty way of returning the favor.” 

You sat on a bench in the locker room, your flight suit you’d just kicked off crumpled at your feet as Rooster slowly approached and sat beside you. “I’m fine, Roo, don’t need to check on me.” 

“It’s okay if you’re not,” he replied. “It was a low blow. I’m the last person to defend him, but for what it’s worth I genuinely don’t think he meant anything by it.”

“Hard to miss the subtext, Rooster.” you sighed, appreciating the fact that the two of them had gotten to the point where he would even be having this conversation with you, but not sharing the same outlook on Hangman’s jab. “It’s on me for believing that he’d changed, even a little, after the mission. It’s Hangman’s world, we’re all just living in it.”

It was Rooster’s turn to sigh, “I think he has, Cobra, he’s just… you know how he is, he gets challenged and he slips back into asshole-Hangman to overcompensate and protect himself from it, and 90 percent of your interactions are you challenging him. I think you should talk to him, if it’s any consolation he looked like a kicked puppy when you walked away.” 

“It's a little bit of a consolation,” you laughed dryly. He leaned in to kiss your temple before standing and leaving you alone with your thoughts. Being stationed to North Island as the newly-official Dagger Squad had brought you peace and comfort, teaching at Top Gun for the last month was a well-needed and well-deserved break for all of you, and you’d grown so much closer knowing when you eventually were deployed again it would be together. They had all been there right after you lost your wingman. You were assigned to the detachment only a few weeks after, your commanding officer had said something about regretting the timing of it but your presence on the mission was a direct order from way up. They’d all seen how it affected you in the air and on the ground, watching as you fought against the tidal wave of emotions threatening to pull you under every day, and were the very reason you stayed afloat and earned a place among the selected members for the mission.

Hangman had made great strides, losing some of the bravado and being more of a team player. Until he met you, he’d never seen firsthand the effect losing a teammate had on someone. He hadn’t admitted it aloud to anyone, but your panicked shouts over the radio when being ordered to stay on track after Maverick and Rooster went down struck him to his very core, had awoken something in him he didn’t even know was there. He couldn’t handle hearing your distress, let alone seeing it when you arrived back and tuned out every order to fly after them, to go against his own callsign and put his ass on the line for his teammates. Ever since that day he’d been different, kinder and softer, while still maintaining some of that cocky arrogance that was simply just a Hangman thing. You’d seen the progress before your very eyes, watched him grow and become a better human and better pilot, and you tried to remind yourself of that but the sting of him throwing the loss of your wingman in your face overpowered it all, it opened a pit in your stomach and had tears stinging at your eyes as you quickly stood to gather your belongings and go home. 

Home was what you had needed. A hot shower and the lack of your stiff uniform allowed you room to breathe, room to just be without worrying about the eyes of your teammates, your students, and your superiors. You’d known from the beginning, from the moment you put the pen to your Naval Academy application that you were choosing one of the hardest paths available to you. It was a hard enough road on it’s own, but throw in the simple fact of being a woman had you working ten times harder for a fraction of the praise and recognition until you finally clawed your way up, established yourself as one of the best, earned a call sign that echoed throughout bases across the world. It had angered you at first, being told ‘huh, I expected you to be a guy,’ when people finally got to put a face to the name, but that had all changed when you met Hangman.

“And what do we have here?” The tall blonde asked, oozing arrogance as his eyes trailed your form. 

“Cobra,” you introduced, eyes narrowing and mouth turning down in disgust at the feeling of his eyes looking everywhere but your own.

“Cobra? The Cobra? Well damn, I guess I should have figured you’d be joining us. Best of the best and all. Have to say sweetheart, you are exactly what I pictured.” Your resolve broke, raising an eyebrow and looking at him inquisitively. This was a first, normally people couldn’t wait to tell you how much you were not what they imagined.

“Is that so? Are you saying that to butter me up or did you really not picture a Keanu Reeves type?”

“No way, the stories I’ve heard about you, darlin’? Only a woman could be that calculated.” 

Hangman saw you, like really saw you, as much as it was a fact you hated to admit. You two were more alike than not, two hotshot pilots with something to prove and tongues sharper than knives. Before he’d even met you he knew you had the same fire and hunger as him, someone who simply wouldn’t accept not being the best even if it killed you. You had something most people didn’t, Hangman’s respect, and that always showed even when you were nose-to-nose screaming in each other’s faces, cursing the very moment the other was born. 

Your phone dinged from its abandoned spot on the couch next to you, pulling your eyes from the spot on the wall they’d been boring a hole into as your thoughts ran rampant.

Ken Doll: I’m outside. 

You sighed, setting your phone back down, keen on ignoring it and letting him sit out there as long as he liked until he finally went home. Your leg began shaking as your foot tapped erratically on the floor below you, watching the hands tick by signaling one minute… three minutes… ten minutes.

Ken Doll: Please?

You stood, marching to your front door and throwing it open to reveal a Hangman you’d only ever seen once before. There was no smirk, no biting comment about taking your time, no cocky attitude, all that was before you was a guilty man who, quite honestly, looked like shit. 

“I’m sorry.”

“Got it,” you said, already angling to close your door in his face, but he stuck his foot out, wincing as the sharp edge of the wood dug in before bouncing back. 

“Look, I get you’re pissed but knock it off.” he said, exhaling sharply as he pushed your door all the way open and into your home as you stumbled backwards and looked at him bewildered.

“Excuse me?”

“I did a shitty thing, but you say all the time we’re a family so let’s act like it. Families fuck up and then they talk about it, so let’s talk,” he walked over to your couch and sat down right in the spot you were previously occupying. Your face contorted into something resembling confusion as you tentatively walked to the couch and sat, keeping as much distance between the two of you as possible.

“Alright, talk,” you said exasperated, gesturing as if to say the floor is yours. 

“I shouldn’t have left you wide open in the air like that. You were right, that’s not what we’re here to do and I should have been there to cover you. I don’t know if it’s any consolation, but you really didn’t need me... regardless, you shouldn’t have been in the position of having to figure it out on your own,” his tone was gentle and you took a moment to wonder if you preferred this Hangman or the one from a few hours ago. At least with the latter you knew how to handle it and what to expect, this was uncharted territory and you fiddled with your fingers in discomfort.

“Is that all?” you asked, your voice small.

“No, I shouldn’t have said that. You were standing there yelling at me and you had that look in your eyes that honestly scares the shit out of me, and I don’t know… old Hangman took over and wanted to hit you where it would hurt, but I- I don’t want to be that anymore. You drive me nuts and genuinely piss me off more than anyone I’ve ever met, but I don’t want to actually hurt you and I’m sorry that I did.” 

“Old habits die hard, I guess,” you all but muttered, keeping your gaze anywhere but on him as you pretended to be interested in the hem of your sweatshirt. It was silent for a moment as Hangman tried to formulate a response but he didn’t really have one, he desperately wished that you would say more than that. This was uncharted territory for him too, he’d spent ten minutes in his car reading articles from therapy websites about how to genuinely apologize to make sure he got it right, knowing if he didn’t he’d only make things worse. You were sitting there a few feet away from him, refusing to look at him and fiddling with your sweatshirt and he felt like he might throw up, almost wishing you were screaming at him instead of looking so small. He’s fucked up with you a dozen times in the past, whether it be pissing you off in the air or taking the friendly fire a little too far when playing pool at the Hard Deck but this was different, it was personal and pointed directly at your deepest hurt. You two were the least-close of the entire squad, your friendship being summed up into competition and the occasional surface-level conversation over a beer when everyone else busied themselves elsewhere, and Hangman had worked overtime to get it to that point. He didn’t know if he could handle you going back to ignoring him over this misstep.

He felt panic bubble in his chest as he saw a tear slide down your cheek, “fuck, Cobra,” he scooted closer to you and your body went rigid with his proximity, “I said something stupid and now you’re crying, and I- tell me how I can fix this.” 

You just shook your head, “although I’m not surprised your immediate thought is this being about you,” you said with a soft laugh as you wiped your cheeks, “I was actually thinking about Henry.” Hangman relaxed a little, waiting for you to continue, “I think he would’ve liked you to be honest. He was constantly on my ass… he always said his day of work wasn’t done unless he had humbled me at least once,” you laughed again, “if he were here he would tell me to let this go, to stop being mad at you and focus on why it actually upset me.”

“You’ve never talked about him before,” he commented, now that he thought about it he’d never even heard you say his name. He only knew it through overhearing a conversation between Cyclone and Maverick. Maverick had been fighting tooth and nail for you while Cyclone thought you were a ticking time bomb that needed to be grounded. It didn’t take long for everyone to piece together what had happened, the way you snapped like a rubber band every time Hangman lived up to his name, the way Maverick treated you with a gentleness he didn’t have for anyone else… not even Rooster. The final clue was a night out that first week, you’d been talking about your former teams and Phoenix had told a funny story about her old wingman, something you’d thought Henry would find hysterical. You’d pulled your phone out and started to say ‘oh my god, I have got to tell mine-” before your face fell, immediately putting a wall up and trying to push past it like you’d never opened your mouth. Hangman had relayed the overheard conversation and from that moment on it was an unspoken truth everyone knew but didn’t acknowledge directly, giving you support when you needed it without addressing the elephant in the room.

“Most of the time it doesn’t feel like it actually happened, like it was maybe just a bad dream. I’m pretty sure my brain tricks me into thinking he’s just with a new squad on deployment because it’s easier than the alternative. I’m not angry about what you said, I’m angry that you reminded me.” 

His eyebrows furrowed as he processed what you said, the words splitting his heart in two. “Cobra, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault,” you shook your head, “I mean… it is but, it’s just one of those things, you know? I could have just as easily been reminded by a memory from my Instagram stories or an old squadmate reaching out. I don’t really have anything to be mad at you for… this is what we do, we yell at each other and say things we don’t really mean.”

“Do you ever think maybe we shouldn’t do that?” he asked.

“No. I like our dynamic, I don’t know why I didn’t realize it until today but it reminds me of what I had with Henry, the only thing missing is the actual friendship part.” You smiled sadly, feeling like it was maybe a harsh thing to say.

“I’d like to be your friend, like… your actual friend. Not just someone you spar with and get your ass kicked by in pool.”

You scoffed, “you don’t always kick my ass.”

“Percentage wise, I’m pretty sure I come out on top.” 

“Have you been keeping count?”

“Not really, but I just know I’ve won more than you have.”

“Oh, you just know? That’s some bulletproof evidence, Seresin, when your career in aviation crashes and burns I think you’ve got a real shot at making it as a lawyer.” He chuckled at your response, happy to see you coming back out of your shell.

“What do you say, Rattlesnake, wanna be real friends?” he asked, extending his hand.

“That’s not my name, you’re off to a bad start.” He just raised an eyebrow at you and you cracked, smiling and shaking on it, “real friends.” 

“Who knows, maybe more... I’m told my charm is irresistible,” he said with that famous smirk, using the leverage of still holding your hand to pull you closer and you just laughed before shoving him.

“Yeah, in your dreams, Bagman.”

next part

[destinysbounty]

Just noticed a parallel thats eating my brain alive. Here you go

You ever think about how Morro gets. Uh. Melted. A lot.

Like both his corpse and his ghost got their bodies dissolved by fire and water respectively and y'know, if yall will allow me to go on a tangent about how this relates to Morro paralleling both Kai and Nya, and how both his body and soul are melted by Kai and Nya's respective elements due to his inability to learn the lesson that saved their lives.

Kai is obvious. They both wanted to be the Green Ninja, and their journeys led both of them into an active volcano. Kai realized he wasn't the Green Ninja, and it was this realization that allowed him to unlock his True Potential and escape. Morro, on the other hand, was unable to make this realization, and died in the process.

Nya is a bit trickier, but the similarities are there when you know where to look. Both characters are perfectionists and over-achievers with wicked gifted child syndrome, who hate feeling weak and have a critical difficulty with relying on and opening up to others, and despise being told what to do/how to live their lives. They're also some of the only characters who have explicitly stated a displeasure with destiny deciding their path for them, and a desire to choose for themselves. When Morro realized he wasn't the Green Ninja, what did he say? "I'll train more, learn more lessons." Rationalizing his rejection as a result of personal failure.

And in the end, when Wu begs Morro to take his hand "so we can be stronger together", Morro ultimately lets go. "You can only save those who want to be saved." Was this because of regret? Perhaps because even in his final moments, Morro couldn't bring himself to accept help, still couldn't let himself be weak or vulnerable in front of another, still insisted on being strong? Maybe he didn't want to let down his old master one last time by seeming weak? Bottom line is, he didn't want to be saved. But Nya, she learned. She learned that it was okay to fail, that if you care too much about something, you'll trip over your own feet trying to get it. She learned that no man is an island, and that it's okay to rely on others for help and to be weak sometimes. She took the hand Morro refused, and it was through accepting this that she conjured the tide that destroyed Morro.

I hope that made sense. It's very late and I've been up since 5AM.

[imarvelatstars]

Built to Fall

Pairing: Hunter x f!Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Content: mutual pining, angst w/ a happy ending

Prompts: “You’re always on my mind.” | “Why can’t you see that it’ll always be you?”, inspired in part by Young the Giant's “Mind Over Matter” + jewelry for for the clone bingo event by @karttaylir-darasuum

this was originally posted for the bad batch reader exchange as a gift for @/221bshrlocked

“You’re getting better. You might end up better than me one day.”

Omega’s nose crinkles playfully. “I’m not sure Tech would call that a good use of my skillset.”

“Well, Tech’s not here. Arts and crafts are way more fun than ship schematics anyway.”

“You’ve got that right,” she says, and you think she sounds just like her brothers.

She’s a smart kid, probably the smartest kid you’ve ever met, so she catches on to new things fast. Her fingers are agile and quick, and her mind is always running. How she hasn’t outsmarted the entire island by now is a mystery to you.

Today’s lesson, if you can call spending time with the sweetest and funniest soul in the galaxy a lesson, is learning how to string kukui nuts and shells into a necklace. There are plenty others who have mastered this art, who craft elegant strands of nuts and shells that look more like art than mere jewelry, and Omega is definitely better at it than you are, but it makes you smile, gives you something to do when your hands are restless and your mind is prone to wonder. And it helps that you can barter with your nicer pieces.

The waves roll gently up and down the shore, bubbling over the rocks and soaking the sand that’s crumpled up by your feet. There aren’t many seashells left, which means you’ll have to go hunting for more soon. You’re just about to suggest it when an embarrassingly loud grumble comes from deep in your belly. You freeze; Omega’s bright, attentive eyes flicker to you, and you both dissolve into a fit of giggles.

That’s how he finds you – lounging in the sand, your leggings rolled up to your knees, and cackling like a goblin.

“Having fun?”

Hunter’s shadow falls lengthwise over you. He’s placed his hands on his hips in a poor imitation of a scolding father, but his faux seriousness is entirely marred by the smile he doesn’t bother to hide.

Omega grins. “More fun than you are!”

“Now that I believe.” He steps around you so he can crouch in the space between you both and your heart very much doesn’t jump at the new proximity. Definitely not. “What’s all this?”

“We’re making necklaces. See?” Her latest creation is promptly displayed on her splayed fingers.

He takes a moment to study it. The shells are tiny already, but they’re even smaller in his hand, dwarfed by the length and breadth of his thumb and forefinger. You’re not sure why you notice that out of everything. It’s a silly thing to notice.

“You did this all on your own?” he marvels.

“Well...” Omega looks to you with a hint of shyness. “I had a little help.”

She's far too modest. “Very little,” you correct. “I just showed her how.” One of your baskets is quickly exchanged for Omega’s necklace, much to Hunter’s surprise. It is, after all, half full of stranded shells and nuts. “She’s a natural.”

Hunter’s brows shoot so high up his face until you’re half afraid they’ll jump right off. He looks to Omega, then you, then back to her. “You made all of these?”

For a moment it seems she’s not sure how to respond. She scratches awkwardly at the back of her neck for a bit, hesitant, even flustered, before finally nodding. “I might’ve gotten a little carried away.”

“Omega,” her brother sighs, and it’s all tender and proud, the way a father should be. Something warm alights in your heart at the sight. “These are wonderful.”

“Really?”

“Really.”

He smiles, and so does she, and that secret desire you pretend not to have, the one that delights at his nearness and the gentle affection he bestows so generously to his siblings, the softness hiding beneath his battle-hardened exterior, explodes inside your chest like a blossom finally unfurling.

“I hate to pull you away,” he continues after a moment, “but it’s time to eat.”

Omega groans but doesn’t protest beyond that. She’s quick on her feet, gathering up her things and haphazardly dropping them into the basket she then perches on her hip. You, on the other hand, are a bit slower than that. Pabu works many miracles, but it doesn’t make you any younger or faster, no matter how refreshing the sea air may be. Your own basket of seashells and kukui is organized and fastened shut, then your shoes gathered in your hand, and then – and then you find Hunter’s hand extended to you.

You brush off your shock as quickly as you can, hoping it doesn’t linger, that it isn’t noticeable, and take the offer with a smile that matches his own. The contact is brief, far too short for your liking, but it quickens your pulse enough that you fear your heart will catapult from the cavity of your chest all because he looked at you, touched you, and it’s all you ever dream of.

His fingerprints still burn into your skin long after his hands have withdrawn. You almost wish they would scar if only to have a physical reminder of him when he’s gone.

“Thanks.”

He nods, and the sun shines golden on his face. There’s a wordless moment where he extends his hand to you again and you think he’ll take hold of you a second time, guide you off the beach like that, and you’re not even sure you’ll survive such a thing, but then you realize he’s asking for your basket. And you’re disappointed, but so, so relieved.

“That’s okay, I got i-”

His fingers curl around the basket handle, gentle but firm. There’s no room for discussion, not as he tugs it free and settles it under his own arm, not as he tells you in everything but words that he will carry this thing for you, he will carry anything you need, anything you want, and you never need to ask. You only wish that he would do it because he cares.

“You don’t have to do that, y’know.”

Hunter’s brow furrows, but you blink and it’s gone. “I know,” he says.

The walk from the beach to Shep’s house is relatively short, but it always flies by when you walk it with him. Perhaps because he makes you feel safe, secure, because he makes you smile when no one else can. Perhaps because you never want these moments to end. Perhaps because, if you’re really honest with yourself, you know that he fills the part of your heart that longs for more, no matter how uncertain you are if he would ever allow himself such a thing.

Dinner at Shep’s is never a simple affair, but it’s always happy. Good food, pleasant chatter, the sound of Omega, Wrecker, and Lyana’s laughter, Phee’s gently barbed remarks and Crosshair’s witty retorts, Batcher barking and huffing between gulps of food, and even the more serious conversations shared between Hunter and Shep tend to be more comforting than not. It’s home, plain and simple. It was never meant to be, not for you, but somehow… somehow that’s exactly what it’s become. He doesn’t know, at least you don’t think he does, but none of it would’ve happened without him, without that too-good heart of his beating fast and strong below his bones, that heart you wish you could call your own one day.

Funny how easy it is to be foolish, isn’t it?

“You’re quiet tonight.”

Shep’s followed you to the balcony where you’ve chosen to watch the last remnants of the sunset as the colors bleed into the clouds and the dark, stormy shroud of night begins to fall.

You tilt your head back, trying and failing to catch a glimpse of the starts through the clouds. “Sorry. Just had something on my mind, I guess.”

He nods, as if he understands, and you truly think he does. He’s a wise sort of man, kind and smart in a way that only experience can provide. “You know you can always speak your mind.” His forearms find the lip of the balcony the same way yours have. “If something’s bothering you-”

“It’s not you, Shep.” You don’t dare say what it is, but you almost wonder if he knows. “I have a little too much to think about sometimes, y’know?”

“I do,” he says, and he nods again. You think he’s about to say something else, but he’s stopped by the weight of a hand upon his elbow, the gentle intrusion of Hunter’s presence as he steps into the conversation.

“Sorry to interrupt.” He gestures to the expanse of clouds as if it were a perfectly normal thing to do. Though for him, you suppose it is. “We’ve got bad weather incoming. Probably best for everyone to head home now.”

Shep agrees, and the others are quick to hurry back to their own hovels or to the Marauder, but Hunter walks you home.

You both know he doesn’t need to. And, you think, you both know he’s only doing this because he feels duty-bound. It hurts, but you revel in his company all the same, just for these few moments.

“I should go,” he says once you’re both inside, dripping the beginnings of the storm onto the stone floor, but he seems loathe to admit it.

You both spare a glance out the window. The rain’s already coming down harder than it was just a minute ago. It’s pattering hard atop the roof and there’s enough force behind it that you’re almost afraid it’ll blow your windchimes clean off.

“Hunter, you’ll get soaked. At least stay until it’s eased up a bit.”

That’s the least you can do, isn’t it? After everything?

But rather than immediately accept the offer, Hunter grimaces. His entire body stills and starts to shift away from you, not a lot, not even in a way that might be noticeable to anyone else, but you know him, his tells, all the subtle ways his body responds to the world around him. You recognize immediately that he’s uncomfortable and that knowledge hits you right in the gut, sharper than a vibroblade.

He shakes his head, politely. “No, I, I should go. I’ll be fine.”

It’s the fact that he refuses to even look at you that does you in.

And you know you should let it pass. Really, you do. Take the blow and roll with the remaining punches the way he and his brothers do, but you’re not strong like they are, and your heart is so much more fragile than theirs.

You sigh. “Why d’you have to be like this?”

Impossibly dark eyes flicker in the muted lighting, landing somewhere near yours. “What?”

“If you don’t like me, Hunter, just say it. You don’t have to pretend, okay? That just makes it worse.”

His tattoo crinkles as his face shifts, each line of inkwork rippling until he’s frowning at you so intently that the weight of it feels enough to crush you. Then his head tilts and the coils of his hair fall over his eyes, and he’s so beautiful that you think you might cry.

“What are you talking about?”

Maker, is he really gonna make you say it?

A brief turn of your shoulder gives you the spare moments you need to compose yourself, and as you survey the tiny hovel you’ve turned into a home, you find yourself thinking again of that last night on Ord Mantell. The night you realized Tech was dead and Omega was gone, and you knew your life would never be the same again…

It’s a goddamn Imperial fleet. You’ve never seen so many ships at once before. They crowd the sky, faintly and briefly illuminated by streaks of lightning and the few pricks of light coming from the city as they descend. You don’t know why they’re here, but you don’t really need to. You know there’s only one thing on Ord Mantell precious enough to draw the Empire out here and it’s not any one of the petty criminals or their shady deals passed under the table and off the books.

If you had any of their comm channels, you’d be satisfied with asking if everything’s alright, if they need a place to stay. But you don’t. Instead, you run. It was a boring night off anyway.

The bar is trashed when you get there. Tables overturned, blaster marks scorched into the walls. Cid’s nowhere to be found and neither are the clones, and it leaves a terrible, sinking feeling in your gut. None of this is right.

Stumbling back outside, you see a handful of Imperial ships lifting off, one already shooting for the outer reaches of the atmosphere. Whatever they’d come for, they’d clearly found it, and Maker, you prayed it wasn’t any of them. Anyone, anything but them.

You come stumbling into the landing zone just as the boys come through the far end, already approaching their ship. Your throat is raw and your entire body hurts from being pushed far beyond its usual limit.

“What, what happened?” you gasp between desperate mouthfuls of air, hands clutching your knees as you double over. “The Empire-”

It’s then that Hunter comes swooping into your personal space, so close that he takes up every inch of it, totally filling your vision until the shadow of his tattoo and the dark glinting of his eyes is all you can see. There’s no time for your stomach to flip or your face to flush hot. There’s only time enough for him to grab you and push until your back hits solid durasteel. It’s cold, sharp, violent where it digs into your back, but no colder than the quiet rage you see carved into Hunter’s face now.

“You sold us out.”

You’re too confused to be offended. “What?”

His forearm finds your throat and presses until you’re properly pinned between him and whatever unyielding thing he’s backed you into, and when you look up at him, you find that you’re afraid of him for the first time in your life. He looks murderous.

“Hunt- Hunter! What are you talking abo-?”

“They took her.” He's clearly furious, but there’s a deceptive calm about him that rattles you to your bones. It’s not the calm and quiet demeanor of a battle-hardened soldier, but the cool and distant resolve of a man on the edge of desperation. “Because of your boss. Care t’ tell me why?”

You struggle to look over his shoulder to the others behind him. None of them have come to your aid, though Echo looks like he’s about to. And Wrecker... What the hell happened to put him in a neck brace? You look back to Hunter, seeking his face for something you’re not even sure you know how to name, only to find his body wrapped in bandages and his face bruised. Something’s not right, something more than just the Empire.

They took her. Took… who?

You glance at the others again. Wait. Where’s Tech? Where’s Omega?

His words pierce through your heart when they cycle round your head again.

They took her.

No.

Your boss.

She wouldn’t. She... she couldn’t. To them, maybe, but to Omega?

“Hunter,” you croak with a voice that cracks under the weight of your horror, “where’s Omega?”

Nostrils flaring, he presses harder into you until you actually choke, his teeth bared and gritted, flashing white against his skin. It’s the most monstrous you’ve ever seen him. “You tell me.”

You’ll kill her. If he lets you live, you’ll march yourself down to the parlor and kill Cid yourself. Doesn’t matter that you’ve never flared beyond the supernova of a rookie punch, you’ll level a blaster at her head. That is, if Hunter permits you to live past the next few minutes. You’re honestly not sure if he will. But then, if you’d kill for Omega, you don’t think you want to know what kinds of atrocities her brother would commit. Perhaps you’ll learn firsthand.

Echo stops him, but he cuts it concerningly close. Air rushes through your lungs so quickly that it hurts, and you find yourself wilting until your legs give out.

His voice wrapping around the syllables of your name is enough to bring you back to the present, to the cold, dismal reality of the disaster of a relationship your friendship has become. You look to the hand at your wrist, the long, calloused fingers and the scars that crisscross his knuckles, the swirling tattoos atop his bones that disappear beneath the cuff of his sleeve, then up to his shoulder, his chin, the flared base of his nose, and then to his eyes. You swear you dream of them every night.

“What is it?” he asks in that deep, rumbling timbre of his.

You’re so heartbroken that all you can do is smile. “What do you think?” Flashes of an offered hand, the lifting of a basket, the quirk of a smile when you crack a joke or the lifting of a brow when you manage to surprise him, the lingering of his gaze when the nights draw dark and your mind is dulled with sleep – they all filter through your thoughts in a single instant. “You don’t have to keep making it up to me. What happened on Ord Mantell is done, Hunter. I just…” You shouldn’t say it, you should keep it buried deep inside your heart and let the wound fester until you burst, but now that you’ve started you find you can’t stop. “I just wish you’d stop killing yourself trying to earn my forgiveness when I gave it to you a long time ago. Especially when I know you hate me.”

The storm rages on while you fall into silence. The wind whips and whistles against the windows, the rain pummels the ground, and all the while you wait for Hunter to finally admit what you’ve known to be true for the past year.

Instead, he loosens his grip until his hand falls away and you hear, rather than see, the dropping of his shoulders in the way he sounds utterly wrecked when he mutters, “Is that what you think?”

Your breath stalls in your chest. “Isn’t it true?”

“No,” he says too quickly. Like he’s lying, like he’s trying to cover his tracks.

“Hunter-”

“You really think that?”

“Fuck, of course I do!” You turn on him and gesture to the awkward, uncertain tilt of his body as if it were the most offensive sight you’d ever seen. “Look at you, you don’t even want to be near me! You act like I burn you half the time we touch. What the hell else am I supposed to think?”

If ever you’ve seen Hunter wish he could crawl into his skin and die, now would be it. All it does is further affirm what you’ve long suspected, and it kills you, the same way it’s been killing him to re-earn your favor. You can’t do this anymore. You can’t pretend like you’re not head over heels in love with him, despite how much he hates you, despite knowing he might have killed you once not so long ago. Despite everything, you love him. And he will never love you back.

You storm to the door and slap your hand against the controls. It hisses open as the sharp winds of the storm come bursting in. Half the house seems ready to blow away, but you don’t care.

“Get out.” Even though it’s the exact opposite of what you want. “Now.”

And because he hates you, he acquiesces. Head bowed low and his eyes cast to the floor, Hunter steps outside without so much as a farewell, and he takes your heart with him.

You’re not sure how much time passes between then and now. It could be a whole hour, or a few seconds of your heartbeat thundering inside your ears. Does it matter?

“I wish I’d never met you.” He’s almost certainly gone by now, but you find yourself wishing that he could hear you. You want him to hurt as much as you do now. “I wish I’d never fallen for your stupid face.” You rub the back of your hand over your eyes and nose, and it comes back wet with your grief. “Wish I’d never gone to Ord Mantell, and I wish I’d never fucking met you, and I wish, I wish…”

Say it, says the little voice in the back of your head. No reason to hide it now.

It’s to the empty room and the cold, tragic rain, you finally admit the secret that’s been eating you alive: “I wish I could’ve loved anyone but you.”

No one responds. There are no frantic confessions of mutual feelings, no gentle knocking at your door. Not that you’d expected there to be, but a part of you had hoped. No, Hunter’s gone and you’ve made a fool of yourself for no reason at all. You dread to think what tomorrow will bring in this storm’s wake, how the chaos will have torn your new home into tatters, how Hunter will watch you with the same distant, burning eyes that break your heart and stitch it back together all at once, how the island will feel as foreign as it did the night you first arrived. You’ve already started mourning the daily gathering’s at Shep’s, the way Wrecker makes you laugh and Phee tells her stories, and Hunter loves Omega like the daughter she almost is, and now it’s all gone, forever, and maybe, just maybe, you were lost to the depths of your heart that very first day that the Marauder touched down on Ord Mantell and the squad came into Cid’s. Maybe you were never meant for finer things like requited love and a place to belong to.

It’s this endless spiral of illogical conclusions and shattered dreams that Hunter returns to. You never hear the door open, nor the worsening of the storm, but you do hear the soft squeak of his boots on stone, the gently trembling exhale of his breath as he squats beside you. You turn as he comes to you, your face damp and snotty, and it’s embarrassing, but he doesn’t care. How could he when he takes your face in his hand like he was made to do it? His headband is soaked and his hair is dripping wet, the tight coils of his bangs now plastered to his skin.

“Don’t cry.”

You only cry harder, but this time Hunter pulls you to him. You let him. He’s soaked, just like you said he would be.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers with your head tucked beneath his chin and your shoulders shaking under his fingers. “I’m sorry.”

 “You left,” you sniffle.

One of his hands finds your neck. It’s cold, but the touch sparks tendrils of warmth down to your toes. This way, your head is tilted back and his is inclined toward you, almost as if…

“You asked me to.” His breath fans across your face, down your throat, dipping low like the path his eyes take as he assesses you. “I don’t hate you. I never have.”

You could fight him on it. You could, but you can’t find the words. You can’t find any words. You don’t know what to say. Kriff, you can barely think right now with the way he’s holding you, watching you, how completely he fills every one of your senses.

“I don’t… know how to do this. I’ve already hurt you before, I don’t- I can’t do that again.”

There’s a hesitancy there, though. You see it in his eyes, in the set of his bones, somehow managing to pull away from you while still staying so deeply entwined with you. He’s unsure all over again, perhaps even as unsure as you are.

“Hunter…” Your hand finds his face, unbidden but perfect all the same, and he leans into you. “I already forgave you. You don’t have to-”

“I heard you.”

He… Huh?

Frowning, you start to pull away as you blink through the confusion and the watery film along the bottom of your eyes. “What?”

He tightens his arms about you to draw you closer and while your pulse skyrockets, you’re not sure if it’s because you’re terrified that he’s so close or panicking because he’s just close enough. You can smell him, now – the faint tones of sweat and sea salt and the wine from dinner – and you swear it’s enough to capsize you. Hunter lowers his gaze, then his face, so, so close to yours that he’s the only thing you see. And you think, you hope, he’ll kiss you, but you’re afraid of what might happen if he does.

“I heard you,” he says again, softer this time. His brows have pressed together above his nose as he focuses upon the spot just below your own. “Cyare… All this time, I thought I didn’t deserve you. I didn’t know.” His nose bumps yours. “Cyare,” and you hope one day he tells you what it means, “can I?”

You don’t need to ask what he means. You only have to nod. “Yes,” you murmur, and that’s when he kisses you.

It’s a cautious thing, so hesitant and timid, but Maker it’s beautiful. Even if this is all he ever gives you, it would be enough to know that he tried, that you learned his taste and his touch when it felt like the world was crashing down around you.

“I’m sorry,” he says before trying again, more frantic, more eager as his mouth presses into yours.

“I forgive you,” you promise before burying your hands in his hair.

The next few moments are a flurry of adrenaline and kisses peppered on skin, the rustling of fabric and the creaking of the sofa when it takes your combined weight. Hunter seems to have found his confidence along the way, and you’ve found your courage, and it ends with his teeth at your lips, and your tongue at his throat, and confessions pouring from you the more he gives and the longer he takes.

“I couldn’t, couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He nips at your jaw. “It’s always been you, Hunter. Always.” He kisses your cheek, then your brow, then the corner of your mouth, hands trailing across your hips and arms as he goes. “I love you. I’m sorry for everything, I just love you so mu-”

His kisses steal the tail end of your confession, drawing into his mouth to mingle with his own until you swear the two of you become one.

“’s alright, mesh’la, ‘s alright. I know.” The bump in his nose is a caress against your cheek as he nuzzles into you. “I feel the same.”

It’s not perfect, this thing between you, and it isn’t easy, but it was always worth fighting for. You were always meant to fall for Hunter, and he was always meant to fall for you. You hope you never stop falling. And he swears never to stop catching you.

[scorpioracha]

Seeing you wine

This is 100% skz x Caribbean reader cause I don’t see enough of that and being Caribbean myself this is the shit I think about. You know the vibes, reblogs,comments and likes are my fuel to write, I hope y’all like this!

Bangchan,Changbin,Felix,I.N:

These boys are very much so giving 친구를 만나느라, shy, shy, shy.

Bang Chan honestly doesn’t know what he was expecting when he heard music coming from the bedroom. First of all it was late, second of all you were supposed to be in bed and third of all…were you having some sort of party? He didn’t expect to see you kneeling on the bed circling your hips with venom playing in the background. Knees parted ever so slightly just scrolling on your phone like this wasn’t the sexiest thing that could ever happen. His baby sitting pretty on the bed dancing to a song he composed? He’s honestly got a lot to say but he’s in the door way just frozen, absolutely speechless and he can feel his heart racing and his neck is definitely red.His eyes are locked in on the way you’re moving and all he can imagine is you doing that on his cock. He ends up walking back out of the room and just sitting on the couch for a bit like 😵‍💫

Changbin made the grave mistake of asking to learn more about your culture. He had expected clothes,food, maybe hairstyles but when you told him you were going to show him some dancing he wasn’t expecting you to bend over and start rolling your hips. He honestly shifted through emotions like a slot machine until his body decided on confused-intrigued horny. He was kinda just standing there like a wounded puppy with his little 🥺 face because he doesn’t know what to do with himself and he didn’t want to be disrespectful and you looked so pretty but he just wanted to touch you😭 you only realize he’s frozen behind you when he lets out a wounded whimper. You couldn’t help but pinch his cheeks and laugh at him because he did exactly what you expected.

Felix on the other hand is your biggest hype man. You guys were baking cookies and you had your playlist on shuffle and as we all know, when the music hits it hits. You couldn’t not bend over the minute you heard wine pon di edge playing. Felix’s eyes are immediately on you and he’s jumping and laughing praising you for how talented you are. He only falls silent when you press your chest against his and grind against him. It causes him to drop the stick of butter in his hands but even though he’s blushing crimson he immediately grips your hips and finds himself getting lost in the motion and you both begin to move as one. You’re the one who ends up getting a little shy because his eyes haven’t left yours and they’re burning with desire. That is until the song ends and the little bubble of whatever the hell just happened is popped.

I.N is his name and being a tomato is his game. You two were at a party with a mix of the boys and your friends and you were known to bust out the island moves when you had a few drinks in you and the mood was right. Little did I.N know his normally giggly cuddly drunk gf was about to drop into a split on the floor and tear that shit up😭 his reaction time goes crazy because he immediately breaks the dance circle and collects your ass before you could find a way to get on your head. Little innie isn’t mad but boy is he jealous, no one else is supposed to see you like that. He’s silently brooding and rubbing at his red cheeks and it doesn’t help that your friends are laughing at him because they’ve witnessed you do worse💀

Minho,Seungmin,Jisung,Hyunjin:

They make you shy

Minho is so fucking excited you have no idea. He was already excited when you said you wanted to show him something, but when you asked if you guys could go to the studio he was damn near vibrating out of his skin. You don’t think you’ve seen him that happy since…well you don’t think you ever seen him that happy. You gave him a demonstration and it all went downhill from there😭 you were moving you hips to the best of the song and almost had a heart attack when you felt his chest flush against your back and your hips against his crotch. Your movement stutters to a halt and he just lets out a disappointed tsk and grips your hips harder telling you to keep going and that he’s a hands on learner. He makes it all of five minutes before he’s threatening to fuck you on this floor if you guys don’t leave soon.

Seungmin catches you by surprise in the comfort of your own home😭 you two were supposed to be hanging out later in the day, but he got out of dance practice earlier than usual(only because Minho got called out into a meeting) and decided to come over a bit earlier to surprise you with treats. It wasn’t like you to not answer the door so he got a bit worried and used his spare key. It was just his luck to find you leaning over the couch shaking your ass with honestly the biggest headphones on known to man, where do you even get headphones that big?—that was besides the point. He quickly shut the door behind him and walked behind you scaring the black off you. If he hadn’t been there to stabilize you you would have flipped over that couch like the worlds worst circus act. You try to turn around to scold him but he just presses your back down so your back is arched and tells you to continue💀

Jisung saw you do this once at a music festival and now it’s like a daily request from him. He doesn’t even ask anymore, he just plays the music and stares at you expectantly. You might honestly have to start charging him cause who does he think he is??? He doesn’t make it any better but sitting down right in front of you and praising you every time. Little sighs and exhales of “you’re so pretty jagi” and “such a pretty girl, all for me” all in all this one is a little fucking menace

Hyunjin is so sure that he has the better waistline out of you two💀 he makes this shit a competition and he doesn’t even play fair because he lifts his shirt up and puts on the most sensual song and tells you to watch him so you can point out any mistakes. He lives to fluster you “jagi I don’t think I’m doing this right, come check for me?” and by check he means put your hands on his waist and feel exactly how he’s doing it. His breath is on the shell of your ear as he asks “am I doing it right now? Am I doing good for you?”😵‍💫

[allthatmay]

sometimes i giggle when remembering ace was going around telling people hed make whitebeard the pirate king (twice in canon; first when meeting luffy at arabasta, second when fighting blackbeard at banaro island) while said man was on a wheelchair. parental love so overwhelming it made him go delulu.

AH, I know, it's so cute. What's funnier is that I don't think he actually ever thinks Whitebeard will be the king. He's not dumb; he knows Whitebeard is very ill and old. I think a part of him simply doesn't want to acknowledge it as he's only just gained Whitebeard as a father and doesn't want to think about losing him.

There's this really great post about the Ace novels (here, which is where I've borrowed the quotes from) that basically sums them up. A big take-away is that, in joining the Whitebeards, Ace realises he doesn't actually know what he wants.

P. 159: [Thatch asks him] “You want your reputation to surpass that of the Pirate King, but you’re not interested in the One Piece. You don’t want to break the code either. What the hell does your flag even represent?” [And Ace answers] “I don’t know. Honestly, I thought I did, but not anymore.”

Sweet baby boy Ace realises he doesn't want the title nor the OP, so he simply redirects those desires onto his "new dad." In fact, Ace has known all along that he didn't actually want to be Pirate King, but he felt like he had to become it in order to shuck his father's identity and gain his own, good or bad. That's partly why he was so reluctant to join the Whitebeards in the first place: replacing one father figure with another would hardly help matters.

P. 224-225: “Whitebeard inviting him to be his son had seemed to him like another ‘father’ attempting to take control of his life. But […] now he understood the word ‘son’ a little differently.”

When he actually thinks about it, I'm sure Ace wants nothing more than to see Luffy be king. But he's so overwhelmed by all the love he's getting from his new family and old friends—he's only just started to accept that it is love—that he's like, "What am I supposed to do with this?" So he returns to what he knows, and decides that the best way to show his gratitude is to make Whitebeard the Pirate King. It gives Ace a means of being useful while eclipsing the persona of Pirate King Gold Roger with Pirate King Edward Newgate, which is good for Ace, who simply wants to get out of Roger's shadow.

Don't get me wrong, I don't think Ace hates Roger at all, just the public image of him. (Okay, maybe there's a little bit of hate because of what happened with Rouge, but that's simply misdirection—Ace blames himself for that.) If they were ever to meet (perhaps through some time travel shenanigans), I could see Ace having all the manners of a feral house cat: desperate to be let in, but hissing and biting at every move Roger makes.

Anyway, wow, I've gone off on one. Point is, YES, it is VERY cute. It has the same vibes as, "LOOK! This is my brother Luffy! He's a menace! His bounty's the highest in the East Blue!"

[mamamittens]

Oh, Sweet Child of Mine (Pt. 11)

Platonic Whitebeard Crew & Reader-Insert

Main|First|Previous

Warnings: Yandere behavior (somehow I think I managed to loop Teach into it now too, so congrats, you've charmed a bastard man). If you find yandere content uncomfortable, please do block the tag 'oh sweet child of mine' as well as any relevant variations to 'one piece yandere'.

Do not tolerate this behavior in real life.

Stay safe and have fun!

If my mental math is correct, I should finish this in 4~ish more chapters. So we're nearing the end!

Also, surprisingly sympathetic take on Teach's backstory, didn't know I had it in me. This is assuming the fan theory that he's from a winter island and was with Whitebeard since he was young, btw.

Word Count: 2,099

Teach grinned as his new crew set the sails to leave the small island he’d recruited them from. Dawn was just breaking and he wanted to make good time—just in case he already had tails from his old crew. He wasn’t entirely sure how much of a head start he had given the rush he was in to ensure Thatch didn’t eat the fruit. Decades looking for it and he nearly lost his chance again.

He adjusted your limp body under his arm for a moment, enjoying the palpable feeling of his power increasing from the contact. The shadows seemed to writhe hungrily at his senses, eagerly awaiting his command in a way they simply didn’t without you. You… well, you were a bit of last minute surprise as well. Sure, in theory, he could just take your fruit but he wasn’t confident it would work the same way. And he couldn’t risk wasting it if it didn’t. Besides, you’re the perfect bait.

He has the power. He has the plan. Now he just needs the reputation to become the Pirate King. And what better way than taking down his old crew one at a time? Sowing chaos to fracture them until Oyaji is too weak to stand against him and properly claim rise to his lofty goals as ‘Blackbeard’. Killing Thatch would certainly get someone on his ass, though he was torn between commanders as to who it could be. Izo was sore enough about losing old friends, and Marco may feel responsible as first mate. But Ace—well, he was a spitfire at the best of times and his old commander to boot.

Taking you was sort of like kicking the hornet’s nest. While also becoming even more powerful in a single move. How could he not do it?

The minor issue of ensuring you never have a chance of squirming away was easily solved with a bit of chain. It’s not like you were particularly strong, though you were smart enough to not do anything too risky—which he appreciated really. Though he’d prefer you sticking around willingly if only to not have to carry you every time you fell asleep.

Teach chuckled a little to himself as he returned to his newly minted quarters. You were wearing down pretty fast the longer he was ‘on the run’. No real chance to properly rest or recuperate from what must be a stressful situation—for you at least. If he neglected to feed you every now and then it only helped ensure you were weaker than before. Who knows, he might not even need the chain if this kept up.

Teach set you down on the sparse bed, unhooking his end of the chain to secure it to the latch on the wall. It wasn’t like he was going to use the bed himself. He paused a moment to watch as you curled up against the wall, completely dead to the world.

Heh. Cute.

He didn’t get why Oyaji recruited the way he did. Pretending to be a big family when they were actually just a band of pirates taking what they wanted. Too soft for a man with the strength to do anything he desired. Too many vulnerabilities. But every so often he thought he understood it… a little. Late night parties with lighthearted competition. Long running arguments about inane subject that both parties are a little too invested in to be serious.

Teach reached down and removed your glasses, examining the cracked lens. Bending it in the light to watch it refract as he considered your position. His prisoner and, technically, first mate. Though he wouldn’t be having you fight—not that he’d trust you to fight for him right now. He had the absolute upper hand over you. Chose to stay his hand. Because you had use to him.

He heard you shudder a little and paused, setting the thick glasses down. You were cold—weak body sensitive to the relative chill in the room. Unbidden, he remembered long, cold nights on his home island in the snow. Powerless and unsure if he’d survive to see daylight again.

Until Oyaji found him. A small, frail part of his chest ached at the memory. The sheer relief that he was safe now. His next meal guaranteed at no cost. No more cold, lonely nights. Even now, he calls him that. Oyaji. Despite fully planning to kill him. The idea didn’t conflict in his head. It was simply the way of things. Old replaced by the new. What higher respect could he pay his father-figure than personally ensuring his demise to further his own prospects? To step out of the shadows and get rid of one of the few people alive that can remember the sad, pathetic child in the snow?

Perhaps this strange sense of sentiment was his own, personal weakness. Crafted by a man too weak of heart to truly conquer the seas.

Teach shrugged off his coat, laying it over you gently. Chuckling when you stopped trembling.

He was a pirate. He could indulge in whatever vice he wanted… though perhaps cautiously. It wouldn’t do to deride Oyaji for something he, himself, was guilty of in excess.

He didn’t get why Marco took you. Why Oyaji agreed to take you in. Well, aside from your devil fruit. But the soft glove approach smacked of weakness given your surprisingly stubborn refusal.

But the slow, rolling satisfaction that settled in his chest knowing that he made sure you weren’t cold… he thought he could understand Oyaji a little better now. Why he kept picking up strays everywhere he went so indulgently in the same way he’d sneak sips of good booze when the nurses weren’t looking.

It was a strange, frail sort of pride to partake in. Pride at providing. But Teach learned at Oyaji’s knee to take enjoyment from the little things in life.

Besides, it wasn’t like you could sell him out or take advantage of what scraps he gave you. As long as you behaved, he supposed there was no problem in these small gestures of kindness. So long as you never forgot your place, that is.

--*--

Luffy laughed, loudly and with glee as his older brother teased his crew. He was so proud of the people he’d recruited so far and wanted Ace to see what he did. Those bright, beautiful sparks that drew Luffy like a moth to flame. The spark that Ace himself had since they were children that only grew since they parted. Ace was still hurt, a little broken inside, but it had healed since they last met.

“Why are you here, anyhow?” Nami asked, “I thought Whitebeard mostly stuck to the New World?” Ever inquisitive, Luffy’s smile widened at how clever his navigator was. Ace scowled, tipping his head towards the man he brought with him.

Pineapple. Well, Ace called him ‘Marco’ but obviously Pineapple was better. Tall and blond with bright blue eyes—achingly reminding him of Sabo but different enough that Luffy could barely see the ghost of his other brother.

“We’re tracking down a traitor. He tried to kill one of our own and kidnapped another.” Pineapple scowled with dark eyes. Luffy’s crew was shocked—giving Luffy the impression that this was an even bigger deal than he first thought.

“A nakama-killer? Who?” Ussop asked breathlessly, “What kind of monster would make it out from a Yonko ship after that?!”

“Teach.” Ace hissed in a way that reminded Luffy of the few times he said Bluejam or Celestial Dragon. Fire flickering between his teeth. “He goes by ‘Blackbeard’ now. Promise me if you run into him you won’t fight him, Lu. He nearly killed Thatch. You’re not strong enough to fight him yet.”

Luffy made a noise of surprise, both at Ace’s words and the name.

“Hey, didn’t we already run into him?” Zoro asked, glancing at Luffy for confirmation. Luffy remembered the weird pirate well. Poor taste in food and rude as hell.

“Yeah, we did actually. Weird guy with a weird laugh. With the tired four-eyes.” The two looked at Luffy sharply. “I almost got in a fight with him but he weirded me out.”

“Tired four eyes?” Ace asked with a pissed off expression. Luffy felt a small twinge of guilt for not helping the stranger at the time, but something inside him whispered ‘not yet’.

“Yeah. They were connected with a chain. Thought he had a slave or something but Nami said it wasn’t quite right.” Luffy explained. Nami nodded, tensing slightly as the two looked at her for more answers.

“Well, usually slaves just have the collar. And he didn’t make any demands or order them around. They just had to… follow him. He even yanked them by accident and apologized. Most slave owners don’t bother with that.” Nami huffed.

Luffy pouted. They looked promising. He even felt… weird when they were around. Like he was stronger somehow. His heart like a steel drum in his chest. Like he felt when he was around his nakama. But they lacked a… spark. Like they lost it and Luffy didn’t know how to give it back. Almost tried anyway but his crew stopped him.

He hoped that next time they found that spark again. He’d love to have them on his crew.

Ace nodded.

“We’re getting close, at least. Hopefully we’ll catch up to them soon. Who knows, we might be able to introduce you guys properly!” Ace grinned, the edges a little sharp like he was suggesting dine-in-dashing when they were kids and hunting crocodiles was too much of a hassle. Luffy grinned.

“I wanna meet them again! Hey! Hey! Ace, do you think they’d join my crew?” Luffy cackled when Pineapple and Ace jolted at the question. Ace narrowed his eyes, clicking his tongue with a thin smile.

“Oi! Don’t go stealing from my crew, you little shit!” Ace hooked his arm around Luffy’s neck stretching it out as he gave Luffy a noogie through his hat.

Luffy squirmed, crying out at the unfairness.

“Ack! Aaaaccee~! They look cool. Though really tired! I promise to take good care of them! Ace!” Luffy complained. Arms failing uselessly as Ace kept him pinned in place. “Ace!”

Luffy’s crew watched with wide eyes as Pineapple smirked from his spot against the wall.

Okay, that felt a little like Sabo.

--*--

You looked out at the growing island, Banaro, chain wrapped around your waist so it wouldn’t drag across the deck. You knew that Teach would come over shortly to reattach it to his bracelet. For the past couple of months, he’d given you relative freedom while at sea and restricting your movement once they got close enough to an island. For the most part, you’d been avoiding the crew, which Teach encouraged.

Probably to make sure you didn’t get any outside help, not that you felt confident you would have received any if you’d asked.

The closest chances to escape you’ve noticed was the revolutionary early into your capture with Teach and Straw Hat—surprisingly. Not that you think Teach knew that.

Though the occasional spotting of a sea king was also promising, Teach had them firmly sail in whatever direction was away from potential pods. Kill joy.

Anyway, it wasn’t that Straw Hat was stronger than Teach, he was definitely a bit too green to manage it given Teach’s decades at sea.

But… that devil fruit of his.

It called out to you. Boundless as the horizon. A drumbeat that vibrated your soul. A call to… something. Something just out of your reach. And you had the sense that if you had only known what that ‘something’ was, Straw Hat would have thrown hands the minute he saw you.

The pirate seemingly breathing in sync with his fruit, only held back by how weak he was currently. Which was a strange thing to sense. Usually fruits were just not utilized well. They didn’t typically hold such obvious power that the user simply was unable to access it at that time.

It felt elastic. Snappy and twisting in a way that you found delightful. Made you want to laugh without even hearing what he was saying.

You smiled a little. Strangely optimistic for the first time in a long time.

Pirate King, huh?

… Somehow, you felt as though Straw Hat Luffy would shake the world. And despite being a ex-marine, you looked forward to it.

Hopefully, you’d be in a position to see it for yourself.

[queerofcups]

an August rec list

August Rec List

Why yes it is nearly the end of September and I’m just now posting my August Rec List. I’ve been busy!

Hockey RPF

come stitch me up

E | 10k | addandsubtract

Sometimes he wakes up sucking on his fingers, rutting his hips into the bed. He’ll be right on the edge of coming, the wet head of his dick trapped between his hips and the sheets, but he can’t, he can’t, not without – not without something pushed up inside, something stretching him open.

Hey man, I barely know who these players are. Is this kind of a horror story? Yes! Is it also very hot smut! Yuuuup. This is what I mean when I’m begging people not to try to explain away the dub in dubcon. Someone should be calling a doctor, an exorcist, a therapist etc. But instead, because this is fanfic, they whip their dicks out! It's great!

Interview with The Vampire

monstrous servant

Armand/Louis

E | 5k | inthebelltower

The old itch never goes away. It never feels less good to scratch.

inhuman taste

Armand/Louis

E | 1k | inthebelltower

Louis can’t help it; he wants to eat him up.

I’ve been thinking a lot about Louis as a dom as I’m writing my own WIP and this fic and the next were really instrumental in shaping my own ideas of how Louis is with Armand. I really think this and the next fic act as a great picture of the two sides of their relationship.

not a ruse, not heat

Armand/Louis

M | 872 | inthebelltower

Louis drinks from Armand’s neck. Somewhere in the compound a clock is ticking.

Let me tell you diary (islands)

Claudia/Madeline, Louis/Lestat 

T | 4k | anonymous

Basically, Claudeleine don't return to Paris, don't fall for the trap, and just travel to wherever the X leads them... until…

In Sickness and In Health

Louis/Lestat

M | 3k | anonymous

“Sure, okay,” Louis huffs softly, “one coffee, why not.”

They’re engaged again by November. Claudia calls Louis the moment she finds out and scolds him for fifteen minutes straight. Hear me out, Louis barely gets the words out before she hangs up on him. Five times he tries to call her back.

Of mercy, with choice 

Louis/Lestat

E | 6k | shavir_light

“I always thought that your victims were truly fortunate, to be gifted with such an exhilarating death,” Lestat says, tangled in the messy sheets. “What bliss it must have been, to be killed by one so beautiful.”

Louis and Lestat play at a fantasy. It gets a bit out of hand.

The Things We DId and Didn’t Do

M | 3k | @marbleflan (they are on tumblr, but I can't tag them)

“You are thinking of him, maybe.”

Louis looks up. It’s like Lestat is speaking in another language and Louis is reading the subtitles on a delay, or something. He can make out the words but not the meaning, for a moment.

“What?” Then it clicks.

“Armand. You are touching me. In bed,” Lestat says, casual. Maybe too casual. “But you are thinking of him.”

Louis doesn’t say anything. There’s not really anything he can say. It’s true, in a way. Not that he’s literally thinking about Armand. Not consciously. But he’s assuming Armand: Armand’s desires, Armand’s preferences, Armand’s reactions. He’s holding Lestat, he’s thinking of Lestat, he’s hard for Lestat. But he’s treating him like Armand.

Wow I sure am reccing a lot of fic about Louis and BDSM, huh? Wonder what thats about. Anyway, I think this and the fics by shavir_light work as lovely little complements to each other. More thinking about how domming wasn’t just a thing for Armand, but was something that Louis participated in, enjoys and carries with him. I also enjoy thinking about how Louis and Lestat might fall back together once Louis is back in New Orleans, but they might not settle together quite as easily. Eighty years is a long time to be apart and of course people are going to pick up quirks and require adjustments. 

the body, not in stasis

Daniel/Louis

E | 1k | shavir_light

“The need to cares for your body is, in part, what tethers you to it. It’s a reminder, Daniel—that you are flesh and blood. That you are a human being,” Louis insists, in his usual verbose fashion, and Daniel can’t help but laugh as he turns to leave.

“Well, you’re welcome to come watch, if it’s so magical to you,” he says.

I think this is such a short, sweet meditation on bodies. It does the exact kind of thing I love fanfic to do, take a single point an original work makes — vampires’ bodily functions fundamentally change when they’re turned — and just has a think and does a little smut about it. I love it.

Want and Swallow and Keep

Louis/Lestat

E | 10k | shavir_light

Love, sex, possession. To Lestat, they’re all the same thing.

So this could be perfect; Louis could decide what they do, control Lestat’s actions. He could make Lestat work for it, earn Louis’ trust again by way of obedience. Louis could restrain him from doing something—something bad.

So interesting to be in such disagreement about what a fic is and how we’re supposed to take it. I think this fic is a great example of the ways Lestat and Louis treat each other poorly, and get off on it! shavir_light makes it clear that they see one party clearly in the wrong and one not. I just think it's so fun that we’re able to have such different perspectives on the same work. 

Harry Potter

New Gods

Harry/Sirius 

E | 4k | @thecouchsofa

It rocks Sirius to his core every time he thinks about it, because they aren’t the same – Harry and James.

Sure, Harry pushes his glasses up with the knuckle of his pointer finger. James used to do the same thing when he had dirt or sugar or random potion essence on his hands. Other people do that too. Sirius has never seen it, but they do.

I like a fic where people are having relationships that are complicated, or they “shouldn’t” be having them for whatever reason. I like the ambiguity of this fic and how Sirius is trying to insist, to us and to himself, that the ambiguity doesn’t matter when it certainly does.

Wield Me

Harry/Draco, Pre-Harry/Draco/Teddy

E | 10k | @tackytigerfic

Draco Malfoy, blacksmith, is renowned through the magical world for his skill and exquisite creations. He could quite easily spend the rest of his days making pretty trinkets for the fae court, and being handsomely rewarded for the privilege. But why take the easy route when instead he could get involved in a dangerous mission with Unspeakable Harry Potter (who also happens to be Draco's... well, he's something, isn't he?)

A little story about learning to strike while the iron is hot.

Home Truths

E | 67k | @fantalfart, @skeptiquewrites

In the off-season Harry decided to fix up Grimmauld Place and found that Draco Malfoy was the only person who could help him. A demanding career and unrelenting press scrutiny were enough to deal with before Harry added a house with a mind of its own, family history, and a tense, flirty, complicated relationship with his childhood nemesis to the mix.

On professional Quidditch, magical houses, hard choices, Life Debts, and inconvenient truths.

Honestly, this fic, to me, is more of a lovely character study than a romance. There’s a good bit of fic that Draco barely appears in but we get to learn more about Harry’s job (y’all know i’m a sucker for any fic where Harry’s not an auror) and the whole world feels very lived in. 

Wonderful Anything

E | 24k |  harDEEhar / @dryrsheet

They were birds of a feather, he and Draco: the pathetic bastards in love and apart.

I can hardly believe this fic is only 24k. I read the next fic immediately after this one because they both manage to offer worlds that feel so full, just from what we learn while watching people fall in love. I also love an unconventional relationship timeline, stories where people build their own lives and families they way they want and second/third/fourth tries until something finally clicks. There are just so many lovely details in this story, it really was one of the standouts of the month. 

Grounds for Divorce

E | 122k | @tepre

Malfoy finds a coin. Harry finds a letter.

A story about histories, a story about families. A story about a lemon tree somewhere in Upper Egypt.

Oh God, I stayed up way too late reading this fic. Sometimes, I’ll just random think about this fic. I’ve reread it so many times. The writing is just gorgeous. The emotional character work is…is shocking in how wonderful and layered it is. It feels both so real and heightened at the same time. The whole story is cooking on high but once Harry and Draco get to the conference in Egypt? Baby, it's on flambé. I don’t know if this story is considered a classic in the Harry Potter fandom but it's quadruple platinum in my household. 

[loveackermannn]

☰ DRIVE ME MAD. . –.ೃ࿐ 𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧.

roommate!levi is very attentive when it comes to you – especially in the moments when he catches you utterly staring at him like a love sick puppy.

though, he never really minded and he grew to notice how your eyes lingered for longer than they should've. or the times when they wandered down to his arms as he worked on an assignment at his desk – granted, you always happened to be sitting across the room on his bed, a familiar area in which the two of you shared many late nights in.

levi never had any thought in confronting you about your frequent habit of staring, but it did rack his mind one day when he came home from his internship, appearing at the front door in a white dress shirt and black dress pants – quite a sight to take in after a long day of classes for you.

through tired eyes, he slowly made his way to you at the island table and immediately crashing into your arms the moment he came in contact with your comforting presence. your perfume always smelled so lovely, intoxicating even. the same could be said with the added aroma of your shampoo after a recent shower (he predicts about 30 minutes ago given how damp your hair still was) and all of it was enough to make him putty in your hands.

levi was the first to speak against the messy strands of your hair, taking a deep inhale before doing so, "how was your day doll?"

"hm, it was okay. just the same old things as usual, how about you?" you respond softly while caressing your fingers down the small of his back, relishing in how frozen time felt whenever the two of you were together.

"it felt long, but i'm glad to be back here with you," it suddenly occured to levi that your mind had drifted attention somewhere in the middle of the conversation and it was in this moment, where he couldn't help but pry a little deeper into what you'd been thinking about these past few weeks.

"mind if i ask you something? it's nothing bad don't worry. it's just been on my mind for a while," he says in such a tone he only ever uses with you and pulls away to create some distance.

"what is it?"

"you seem to be... in la la land lately. whenever i talk to you, you look like you're somewhere far away and i just wanna know if something's wrong?"

you stayed quiet, perhaps too quiet for his liking and it had him second guessing if it were smart to even bring it up in the first place – but, levi could see that you wanted to say something. with his given patience, he waited until you were ready to give a response and eventually, you cracked.

"you've just been.. occupying my mind recently. not in a bad way though. i guess, i've been getting distracted."

oh.

from the way the tips of your ears turned a light shade of crimson and how you couldn't even hold a second of eye contact with him, it wasn't hard for him to figure out you out – he knew exactly what you meant.

levi couldn't hold back from such an opportunity to poke a little fun when you were just so easy to read and he loved getting your attention.

"what are you getting distracted by hmm?" he paused to slightly bend down to where your ear was within reach of his lips, grazing it over your lobe and continuing to speak directly there, "go ahead doll. i'm not here to judge. use your words."

you gulped, holding onto any last bit of restraint you had and forcing at least a cohesive sentence out, "it's you. it's always been you."

his hands continued to wander their way up to the nape of your neck, shaking your nerves to the core. levi was so fucking tempting and it drove you crazy. you didn't know how long you could sustain your sanity at this point given how much you've absolutely craved for him since the first day you moved in together.

"what about me? you wanna be specific? i'm not sure i understand."

a fucking tease.

your owns hand soon glided over to his chest with such a look in your eyes he hadn't seen before – desire.

"everything about you i'm constantly prisoned to. your smell, your presence, your eyes, your lips.. god, i don't know how i haven't been driven mad because of how much you affect me. i can't help but think about you all the time." to this, levi didn't say a word, but instead took your chin between his thumb and index fingers and caved completely into you.

"i think you drive me more mad than i do for you. you have no idea."

☆ — 𝐭𝐚𝐠𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭: @luvjiro , @youre-ackermine , @lovolee3 , @notgoodforlife , @averysmolbear , @bejewelledd , @leviismybby , @evas-leslas , @roseofdarknessblog @cometlevi , @21aurora (! ! 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐠𝐨 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐲 𝐢𝐧𝐛𝐨𝐱 𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐞𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞 𝐚 𝐦𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐥𝐢𝐤𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐞 𝐚𝐝𝐝𝐞𝐝💌)

[descendant-of-truth]

The data characters in Coded are endlessly fascinating to me because like... they're so much like the originals. But everything is shifted just enough to the left that they feel different, and a little off if you think about it long enough.

Probably the main thing that stands out is that they all start out with different "base memories" from each other, if you will. The only thing Data Sora knows is that he grew up on the islands with his friends, but Data Riku has an encyclopedic knowledge of everything that happened in KH1. Data Namine knows what happened in CoM, and Data Roxas remembers up to the end of the KH2 prologue.

None of them are caught up to the present. The events of KH2 don't exist to them, because those events are written in a different journal.

But you can't even say that Data Sora is "just" Sora from before he started his journey, because almost as soon as the game starts, there's something wrong with that picture.

It's a little hard to explain, but Sora seems... remarkably unconcerned with his surroundings. He accepts whatever Mickey tells him without a second thought, even if he admits (still much too casually) that he doesn't understand what's going on.

(Not to mention that the giant, eye-catching blocks around him are things he doesn't even acknowledge until prompted by Mickey to "look for anything odd.")

But probably the biggest difference between the two Soras when they're starting out is that the journey isn't personal for Data Sora. He doesn't dwell on the islands being lost, and more importantly, he isn't looking for his friends. He doesn't even think about his friends. The first time Riku's name comes out of his mouth is when he literally shows up in front of him.

The early parts of Coded really make the "data" part of Data Sora apparent, I think. He's kind and brave like Sora, he has his mannerisms down, but he feels a bit hollow. There's nothing that's really important to him yet; he just goes along with things as they happen to him.

And then he loses the Keyblade and Riku at the same time, which is the first event to prompt genuine distress from him that he doesn't quickly bounce back from.

This is when Data Sora goes from a passive protagonist to more of an active one - something that the original Sora was from the start. He finally disobeys a request from Mickey, going to Hollow Bastion by himself in order to save Riku.

It's only there that he finally starts to process what having friends means, though, courtesy of Donald and Goofy's guidance... which the original Sora had ever since Traverse Town, by the way. Mickey wasn't a bad mentor to Data Sora, necessarily, but he was a lot more objective-focused, and thus didn't do a lot to help foster a deeper understanding of certain things in him.

Another thing I find interesting - the original Sora lost his Keyblade before going through Hollow Bastion, too, but the way they each get them back is different. Sora makes a rousing speech about how his friends are his power, and his conviction in that summons it back:

While Data Sora summons his back in a moment of fear, and a desire to protect his friends from being crushed:

He even fights a possessed Riku like Sora did, but the dynamic between them is much different on both ends. Originally, Sora was really fed up with Riku, and didn't know the full extent that he was being manipulated. (Also Riku stole the Keyblade and his friends by extension from him, so he's understandably kind of mad about that)

Meanwhile, Riku's villainous sass was on full display, mocking Sora for having a weak heart and saying he would get destroyed by the darkness. This was probably the worst terms they've been on with each other.

In Coded, there's no bad blood between them, and Data Sora knows exactly how much Riku isn't acting of his own accord. So his tone becomes one of unambiguous concern, while Riku wants so much to not fight Sora that he asks to be destroyed instead.

And because Ansem just... doesn't seem to exist in the datascape, Sora is able to bring Riku back with him much faster than the original could, so the motivation that made CoM and KH2 possible in the first place is gone entirely.

Data Sora's journey leads him to the same places as Sora's, and the story beats are similar, but his experiences are unmistakably different. Which is what makes the way Data Riku talks about things especially fascinating.

He makes a lot of references to the original events of KH1, and talks like he and Data Sora are inextricable from it. "I always seem to give in," "you once turned into a Heartless," "you would have saved us." He never completely separates the events of the datascape from those in the real world, treating Riku's failings as his own, saying that Data Sora lost his heart and doesn't remember it.

Data Roxas and Namine are the same way - it's actually Sora who's the odd one out, who doesn't give his original a second thought most of the time. It's only when other people attribute Sora's experiences to him that he, somewhat mistakenly, adopts that information into his worldview.

(No, Sora, that's not your Heartless. No, you weren't on a journey to find Riku and Kairi. That was a different guy. You don't even know Kairi for some reason. Add him to the list of people that live in Sora's shadow along with Roxas and Xion)

I don't know what the conclusion is here exactly, just that there's something about the way the data characters are so different but similar at the same time to the people they're based on that's really engaging to me.

I mean, one of Sora's biggest fears seems to be turning into someone else, or just being a copy of another person, as we saw in DDD. Data Sora is a Sora who's a copy, and he's kind of just... fine with that. He's content with what he has. Even when his memories are a complete mess by the end of the game, he accepts the situation as it is and keeps moving forward.

Anyway I could keep going but for now I'll leave it at "and that's why the data characters should show up again in future games"