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knives-out20 · 3 years

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Knocking Boots - Captain Jack Sparrow x Male!OC

Fandom: Pirates Of The Caribbean (2003-2017)

Pairing: Riley Blackwell (OC) x Captain Jack Sparrow

Warnings: !NSFW!, Smut obviously, Swearing, Faggotry, Praise kink, Jack literally being the king of consent, Gay horny pirates need I say more, Dick stuff but y’know its a given, They have a safe word and safe action guys seriously we’re fine, Dirty talking AND sweet talking,

Notes: If you see this, no you didn’t. Riley doesn’t always bottom, because trust me y’all Jack is JUST as much of a pillow princess as Riley can be, especially if he’s ‘too lazy to do all the work’. I’ll probably delete this SO FAST LMFAOOO I haven’t done this since that shitty Joshua x Aldo one months ago, I literally swore off writing smut after that but I deadass couldn’t help myself. This isn’t placed in a specific movie/between specific movies, so go wild with when you think this is. No spellcheck, we die like men.

Jack and Riley hung around the captain’s cabin of the Black Pearl, Jack sat at the table and Riley standing against a wall.

Riley inhaled slowly, though sadly his lack of scent blocked him from smelling the rum, the salty sea, and other such smells that every other pirate was long used to.

“Y’know doing that doesn’t really do anything for you, mate” Jack reminded, eyes on his closed compass. “You lost your sense of smell many moons ago, if y’even ever had it.”

Riley pushed himself off of the wall, standing up straight. “Thank you, Captain obvious” he teased, glancing over at Jack and giving him a grin.

Jack returned his gaze, eyebrows raising as he showed Riley a fake smile. “Watch it, love.”

Riley softly arched a brow, left pointer and middle finger padding at his neck. “Bit strange, isn’t it?”

“What is?”

Riley pulled a sturgeon face. “Usually, we’re being pulled this way ‘n’ that, up, down, sideways, left, right, everywhere in bloody death-defying ventures. But now...we’re not on the verge of dying. I’m not losing you, you’re not losing me, we’re not out looking for something, we’re finally getting some damned peace” he explained. “Not that I’m complaining, it’s a relief to finally not be worrying about your well-being, but then again...I’m not used to not bloody worrying.”

Jack chuckled airily. “Finally have me safe ‘n’ sound, and you’re annoyed about it?”

“I bloody said I wasn’t complaining-”

“I’m teasing, rose” Jack cut Riley off. He took off his hat, setting it aside on the table. “Quite nice, isn’t it? Running this way and that is tiresome, sometimes, even I’ll admit” Jack confessed, steadily standing up. He shrugged off his dark coat, placing it over his chair. “More time with you, alone. Or at all, both is fine, honestly.”

Riley crossed his arms, his blue eyes being one (or, well, two) of the brightest things in the room as he watched Jack advance on over. Once Jack came close enough, he grabbed the Captain’s narrow hips and pulled him closer, head tilted slightly.

“There’s that needy attitude again.”

“Shut it” Riley whispered, leaning in a bit. “I ever tell you how breathtaking you are under the candlelight?”

“Aye. You usually say that under any light, actually” Jack shrugged.

“Because it’s bloody true, dear” Riley shook his head, gaze and smile melting into an expression of hopeless love.

Jack admired Riley for a moment, before asking him something. “Can I kiss you?”

Riley clicked his tongue, nodding. “Always” he whispered.

Jack gently cupped Riley’s cheek, the familiar prickling of Riley’s designer stubble on his palm giving him a sense of safety; of home. His thumb subconsciously starting stroking Riley’s cheek, an automatic thing he happened to do. Jack couldn’t quite place why, maybe it was a reminder to himself that Riley is still there with him and isn’t planning on going anywhere, or maybe it’s just his need to feel Riley under his touch. Either way, he simply couldn’t get enough.

“I’m sorry, I’m expecting a kiss right now, if you’re still up for it” Riley joked, tapping his bottom lip with his right pointer finger.

Jack playfully rolled his eyes, leaning in and pressing his lips to Riley’s. One with a less homey sense to it, as it was obviously more romantic and intimate. Being with everything Riley and him had been through, Jack secretly cherished each and every kiss they shared, no matter the setting nor where the kiss was placed.

Who knows when a simple kiss could be their last?

Jack pulled Riley close to him with both hands, in a low-key way, feeling safe enough to close his eyes and savor in the moment. Feeling safe around someones energy is a different kind of intimacy than the one that most people are used to, one that he believes only Riley and him have.

Riley loved kissing Jack, because kissing him never felt like something on his to-do list (though, Jack was constantly at the top of Riley’s to-do list), or a chore. He never felt as if he had to kiss Jack because the two are romantically involved, like he had with men who weren’t Jack. Kissing Jack, to Riley, was that of a fun activity, or a reward for finding the one, so to speak.

Jack’s lips were on the smaller, rounder side, his lips are full, too. He doesn’t take much care of them, more-so himself, but Riley knew them to be softer than a warm bed. Then Riley’s were the complete opposite in looks: wide, and a little on the thinner side. Riley took better care of himself than Jack did with himself, but Riley will reluctantly admit that his lips are a bit dry, most nights. Jack still loved them all the same.

Despite the listless differences between their attributes, Jack’s and Riley’s lips fit ever so perfectly when they kiss. As if they were carved from the same stone, or made for each other.

Every piece of their bodies were perfectly made for each other, it seemed. Riley’s hand could fit perfectly when holding Jack’s. Jack could wrap himself around Riley and they would fit like two pieces of a puzzle. Riley could place his hand on Jack’s neck and it wouldn’t be too big or too small.

And in this moment, it was their lips that fit each other. Riley kissed Jack as he held the Captain, recalling the idea that his hands were made for holding Jack in any way, shape, or form, he just fit so perfectly. He tasted the rum on Jack’s lips, like it was the only thing he ever could- or wanted to- taste. After all, both Jack’s lips and rum gave Riley a major sugar rush-like feeling.

Jack pulled away from the kiss for air, keeping his lips against Riley’s. “Can you bloody take this off?” He inquired, in more of an actual questioning tone than the pleading tone anyone would expect to hear in the given situation. Jack tugged at Riley’s black coat, specifically the collar despite meaning the clothing item as a whole.

Riley nodded, pulling his hands away from Jack’s person to pull the coat clean off and toss it onto a nearby chair. What was under that coat was always the same, a long-sleeved black button-up with a red double-buttoned waistcoat over that. Sometimes just the waistcoat, unless Riley felt cold. Silence followed, and he arched an eyebrow. “Aren’t you gonna ask me to take these buggers off, too?” Riley asked, tugging his waistcoat and button-up.

Jack gulped. “Only if y’want to. I’d never force you to do anything you wouldn’t want to, mate. Willingly, of course.”

Riley cooed, reconnecting his lips to Jacks as he worked on unbuttoning his waistcoat. Most would think that oh, double the buttons, double the amount of time. But Riley’s grown accustomed to taking off his waistcoat that it’s second nature, he’s very quick at it nowadays. He pulled away from Jack to work it off, folding it and holding it in one hand. “Could you be-rid of this, for me?” He tapped Jack’s smaller, unbuttoned waistcoat, which was forgotten in a flash with how fast Jack took it off, after his belt, weapons, and any other effects. Riley chuckled, “needy much?” He teased, throwing his waistcoat onto a table.

“Shut up” Jack scoffed, the both of them unbuttoning their shirts.

“Can I kiss you, now?” Riley slid his hand over Jack’s lower back, pulling him closer for some skin-on-skin action.

Jack pressed his forehead against Riley’s, smirking. “You may.”

Riley’s other hand found the back of Jack’s neck, cradling the back of his head. He inched closer, kissing Jack for the third time. It was hungrier than the others, now that Jack and Riley both knew that the other knew exactly what they wanted.

Jack pulled away, cupping Riley’s cheek and talking against his other one. “Can I go down on you?” He purred, neediness showing at this point but he’d shut it off like a switch if Riley were to seem the least bit uninterested.

Riley nodded, turning and pushing Jack onto the bed. He crawled on top of him, grunting when Jack flipped them around.

Jack straddled Riley down, using one hand to pull off his faded, red bandanna. He set the bandanna aside, along with the deer shinbone that usually stuck out of it. “Can we try it like this tonight?” Jack questioned, gesturing to how he was currently on top of Riley. “Let me take care of you, love.”

Riley hummed, nodding. He watched Jack intently, propping himself onto his elbows as the Captain took off his pants. Riley followed suite, until his rings weren’t even on his hands and Jack wasn’t wearing any bracelets.

Jack pinned Riley down to the bed, face disappearing to the crook of his scarred neck. “I could stay here all bloody day” he mumbled, fluttering kisses down Riley’s neck. “All I ever want to do, Rye, is- is run me hands through your hair, all damned day, and kiss your beautiful neck” he admitted, inhaling Riley’s secure musk.

Riley tilted his head up, smiling lazily. “Anything else?”

“Oh, darling, why tell you when I could easily show you?” Jack hummed, fingers dancing down the side of Riley’s body like he had a million times before, knowing his partner better than the back of his hand. He continued his gifts of loving kisses, trailing down Riley’s body, his way of admiring his own work of art.

Riley’s fingers smoothly tangled into Jack’s dreads, course fingers in the soft locks always giving him a feeling like solace. He tilted his head back to stare up at the ceiling in content, quite glad that a majority of the work didn’t befall onto him tonight.

Jack worked his way back up to Riley’s neck, becoming more and more touchy by the second. He pressed against Riley hungrily, biting down on a safe spot on Riley’s neck.

Riley grunted quietly, eyelids fluttering as Jack did what he did best.

“What do you want, Riley?” Jack urged, ready to stop if Riley were to give a signal. His hand met Riley’s dick, thumb softly stroking. “Tell me what you want.”

Riley dug a hand into Jacks hair, having been worked up very quickly. “You,” he breathed, all his senses practically overloading with his need for Jack. “You, Jack. Please.”

Jack chuckled lowly, pulling Riley’s hand away from him and pulling away, himself.

Riley’s blue eyes followed Jack’s every distinct move, as the man went to go get some aloe vera and come back.

Jack took a bit of the gel, rubbing it onto his hands. “What’s our safe word again, love?” He asked, eyebrows raised expectantly. Jack assumed Riley remembered their safe word.

“Wicked.” Riley answered obediently.

“And safe action?”

Riley pat the bed three times, doing so again with his hand furled into a fist. “If I pat the bed three times, fist or not.”

“Aye” Jack nodded, proudly. He maintained eye contact with Riley as he lathered his dick up with the aloe vera gel, breathing at a ragged pattern as his mind raced with ideas of all that he could do to Riley. “Do you still want this?”

Riley nodded eagerly, long used to Jack’s constant inquiries on whether he still wanted to do something or not. “I want you, Jack-”

“How badly?”

“So bloody bad” Riley licked his lips slowly, eyeing Jack like always.

Jack grinned, “good boy.” He praised, covering two fingers in the gel and teasing them around Riley’s entrance.

Riley squirmed a bit beneath him, having never gotten used to the feeling. His movements were less jerky than they were when Jack and him first started having sexual escapades, but he wouldn’t lie, it was always uncomfortable.

“Are you okay?”

Riley nodded, reaching up and tucking Jack’s dreads behind his shoulders; this gave him a clearer view of Jack’s face. AKA a sight that none of the seven wonders of the world could ever even begin to compare to. “Always feels weird, is all.”

Jack nodded back at him, tossing the aloe vera aside and wiping his fingers. He lined himself up with Riley, pausing to simply stop and stare down at Riley. And this was far from being meant to be taken in a creepy way, Jack must say. He, cliche enough, always caught himself gazing at Riley on various occasions, ever since he was 18. Something about Riley was just so enrapturing, Jack swears he’d choose exploring Riley Blackwell and all that he is, over any sea or ocean, any day.

But enough of that, now.

Jack glanced down at his view of Riley below-the-waist, seeing Riley was just about as hard as he is. He hummed- intriguing. Nonetheless, there was work- well, a pirate- to be done. Jack exhaled quietly, locking eyes with Riley. “Ready?”

“Yes” was all Riley gave Jack, which is exactly what he needed to hear. With Riley, he always needed the presence of a ‘yes’ rather than the lack of a ‘no’, that always made what they did so much more enjoyable for him.

Jack winked down at him, slowly sliding into his beloved.

Riley sucked in his breath upon impact, shoulders rising slightly.

Jack knew that was a good sign, so he slowly pushed his length into Riley. At that point in time, he knew full and well Riley could take all of it. “Is this okay?” Jack asked in a hushed tone, droplets of concern sprinkled over the inquiry.

Riley nodded, relaxing into the activity. “I like that” he answered, repeating it mindlessly when Jack began thrusting softly.

Jack smiled once more, hips thrusting against the underside of Riley’s smooth thighs. He decided to show mercy on Riley and go slowly throughout, after all he did say he wanted to take care of Riley tonight. If Jack hadn’t said that, he would have been sure to make Riley like how he was when Jack first met him: stuttery, shivery, and overall not like he usually is now. It’s a wonderful sight. “Do you want me to stop?” He piped up.

“Don’t stop,” Riley’s fingers curled, gripping the bed sheets but not in any way that expressed pain. “Don’t stop, don’t bloody stop, please” he begged, music to Jack’s ears.

“Feel good, eh?” Jack pushed, feeling a bit cocky but holding himself back from going any faster than Riley would’ve wanted him to. “Does this feel good?” He reworded.

“Feels so good, Jack” Riley mewled, putty beneath the Captain.

Jack grunted under his breath, brown eyes darting over very square inch of Riley’s body that was in his direct view. He had memorized it a thousand times over, but this was one treasure he was never tired of having, of holding, of looking at. But unlike any treasure, Riley’s a person, a human being. Not some shiny object. In Jack’s mind, he’d call Riley ‘treasure’, but he was sure that Riley’s so much more than that.

“Jack,” Riley moaned, head tilting up, eyes falling closed as he swore softly.

Jack was pulled back down to reality when Riley called him, unknowingly speeding up his thrusts. “Yea, darling?”

“Can you go slower-?”

Jack gulped, nodding and immediately slowing his rhythm. “Sorry- got ahead of me-self” he apologized, reaching down and cupping Riley’s cheeks. “That better?”

“Right there, yes” A sedated smile slid onto Riley’s inviting lips, giggling airily. “More.”

“You look so pretty when you ask for more” Jack praised once more, thumb stroking at a leisurely pace. “You’re doing so well, Riley.” He added, the satisfaction on Riley’s face telling him more than enough. Jack traced one hand down Riley’s torso, grabbing his dick like before.

Riley’s breath hitched when he felt Jack begin to pump, fingers stroking and squeezing down below.

“Is this okay?”

“Yes, more than bloody okay, fuck-”

Jack chuckled, thrusting into Riley in a recurrent pace as his hand went to work at doing something he happened to do best: pleasing Riley. He was brought to cloud 9 as his waist swayed back and fourth, Riley mumbling “I’m close” ringing a bell in his head. “Hm?”

“I’m close, Jack” Riley repeated, head turned to the side.

Jack let go of Riley, leaning in and invading Riley’s personal space to sloppily kiss his neck. He bit down, tugged at skin, left a few marks, doing what he knew Riley would like. As long as Jack’s ears were being met with Riley moaning, groaning, and calling out his name, he was far from stopping. “Come for me, dear. Come for me, Riley.”

***

Jack collapsed beside Riley, the only noise in the air being their heavy panting and the sea rocking against the boat, like their bed had been against the wall. He tiredly reached an arm out, grabbing Riley and tugging him closer.

Riley wrapped his body around Jack, mind falling back to earth from the nirvana it had just reached. “That was so...good” he slurred.

Jack exhaled through his nose, staring blankly at the wall. “You told me that one too many times” he teased, not denying that he was happy.

“Shut up” Riley breathed, smiling against Jack’s bare neck. “I love you” he told, breath heavy as his eyelids felt.

Jack’s smile grew from ear to ear, holding Riley close to his person. “I love you too, Riley.”

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knives-out20 · 3 years

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Meeting Of The Minds

I saw this TikTok trend where it was like "how would your OC react to themselves before trauma?" So I felt like writing it since none of my OC'S are drawn, they're written. Just scroll around to the OC's you guys know.

These will all be MAIN OC'S (but not ALL my main OC's), no side characters like The Buddies+Ramon+MJ, Grimm+Cececlio, any IB OC that isn't Joshua, etc. I will also only do the OC's I have at least written one oneshot/chapter draft for, not any of the ones whose works I haven't started.

Enjoy!

Warnings: The trauma my OC's suffered includes physical abuse, verbal abuse, emotional abuse, rape, death of a loved one/of loved ones, human experimentation, attempted murder, religious trauma, undiagnosed mental illnesses/disorders,

OC's included: Bobby Brightside, Captain Riley Blackwell, Karmel Rosenstein, Lieutenant Joshua Margolis, Maxwell Shelby, Cleophus Elton, Ambrósio Fargas, Robin Fifer, Lord Camilo Van Hellsing,

Robert Duncan Brightside aka Bobby Brightside

Once Upon A Time In Hollywood (2019)

Bobby looked down at the child in front of him. The child's hair was shorter, his brown eyes wide and unknowing. Bobby cracked a smile, eyeing the bandage on the kid's chin. "Hey, kid."

Younger Bobby, who still went by Robert, looked back up at him. He's probably four years old, if not then on the verge of turning four. "Hi, mister." Robert answered, He was wearing blue shorts and a blue shirt with a police car on it; Bobby's favourite shirt at the time.

Bobby crouched down to get closer to Robert's height. He slowly reached his hand over to cup Robert's cheek, gulping. "You didn't flinch."

"No...Why would I? You're just tryna touch me." Robert giggled.

Bobby smiled sadly, eyebrows furrowed. "Yea...I'm not gonna do anything t'ya." He agreed. "If anyone touches you in a way that's not soft like this...It's not because of anything you did." He said. "It'll never be your fault."

Robert tilted his head, confused.

Bobby sighed, and decided to change the topic. "Got any friends?"

"Uh-huh!" Robert nodded, excited. "My best friend's name is Monte, have you heard of him?"

Bobby glanced up at the sky, licking his lips. "The name rings a bell, it's unique, Listen- hold onto Monte. Play nice with him, nicer than when you first met him, okay?" He told. "You'll need him in your life. For...a lot of times, 'n' a lot of reasons. Be his best friend like he is yours, okay? And you'll be buddies forever!"

"Okay!" Robert giggled. "I like Monte, a lot."

Bobby looked down at the cop car on Robert's shirt. "Nice shirt." He forced out the compliment, knowing he didn't mean it. Bobby remembers the day he burned that shirt, and got rid of his old police car toys.

"Thanks, mister, my dad got it for me. He said cops are really cool and we should like them!" Robert explained.

"Mhm." Bobby nodded. "Another thing- don't let anyone tell you what to do, say, or think. You are your own person, you like what you like, got it?"

"Yes sir!" Robert nodded.

Bobby didn't really know what else to say.

"Y'know...You kinda look like me!" Robert grinned at what he thought was a funny coincidence. "But- But older, and cooler."

Bobby chuckled, "yea, I guess I do." He shrugged.

"Are you married?" Robert pointed at Bobby's wedding ring.

Bobby smiled down at it. "Yea. Someday, you will be. Trust me."

"Really? To who?"

Bobby gulped thickly, sniffling and tilting his head up. "The...The best person in the whole world." He answered. "The funniest, nicest person you'll ever meet. You won't believe they're real, but they are, kid. They're what makes you, well, you. Just wait a while, you don't meet hi- uh, them, for a while." Bobby smiled, closing his eyes.

Robert gasped, "wow! I get that lucky, huh?" He squealed, jumping up and down.

"Yea, but don't tell anyone." Bobby playfully shushed him, looking back down at Robert and winking. He pat Robert's hair, not really knowing what else to say. Bobby got down on both knees, and outstretched his arms for a hug; Robert wasted no time in accepting the invitation, and hugging him. "You're gonna go far, kid."

Riley Blackwell

Pirates Of The Caribbean (2003-2017)

Riley looked down in front of him.

A young Riley stared back up at him with piercing blue eyes. No older than five years old, maybe six. "You- You look like me."

"What a coincidence, lad, because you look like me."

Little Riley smiled a bit when he noticed older Riley's defining features; a long coat, his many rings, his sword and his dagger poking out from under his coat. "You look like a pirate!"

Riley exhaled slowly through his nose. "I am a pirate, mate. Through and through."

"I've always wanted to become a bloody pirate, and I- I- I know I'll be one, one day." The younger of the two gushed, clapping his hands excitedly. "My older cousin Oscar told me I'd make a super pirate, too."

Riley glanced at his claddagh ring, frowning.

"Are you okay, sir-?" Riley asked his older self, head tilted a bit to the side.

Hasn't Riley heard that before. He balled his left hand into a fist, nodding silently. Riley looked back over at his younger self, and realized something. He, talking to an unknowing younger-him, has the power to tell younger-him to do anything and everything he wants.

Riley can tell this younger-him to give up any plans of a pirate life if he wanted to. If he did, he'd never have his dad try to hang him, and thus never run away and meet Jack and go through everything Jack's made him go through (including the deep depression he fell into after Jack got taken to Davy Jones' Locker). All the pain and anger that was added onto Riley's life after he became a pirate, he could avoid with a few little wise words down to the younger-him he's staring down at. What would a non-pirate life even look like for Riley? Bound to his wealth forever, stuck in Ireland, maybe taking up being a blacksmith like Oscar?

Would he rather that over the never-ending ups and downs of sailing the seas, getting in sword fights, all the added traumatic experiences? All the floods of emotions over the years? Leave Jack be? Could he be able to avoid his pirate paranoia, all the excess anger, intrusive thoughts, maybe everything he thinks is wrong with him?

Whatever it could be, that's up for him to change his fate.

Riley scratched his jaw. "You wanna be a pirate, eh, lad?" He tested the waters, trying to think through what he was going to say. "You dream about it, even?"

"Uh-huh, more than anything! I'd be bloody amazing!" Riley pumped his little fist in the air, looking determined.

"Well, let me bloody tell you something, lad..." Riley got down on one knee, eyebrows raised in an expectant way, to show that he wanted the child to listen. He reached out hesitantly, as if expecting the younger-him to flinch away.

Little Riley stood still.

Riley took a deep breath, putting his hand on little Riley's shoulder.

"Are you gonna say anything, sir-?"

Riley scoffed, "yea, just..." His gaze darted around the ground. Riley knew what he had to do. He locked eyes with the kid that was ready to listen to whatever wise words he had to offer.

Little Riley put his small hand over Riley's, not to take it off his shoulder but just to comfort him, or something along those lines.

"Follow that dream, mate." Riley tore his gaze from his wedding ring to the ground, knowing that this decision was made more for his own good than it was for Jack's sake. He's saying this because a pirate is what Riley is, what he always has been and always will be. "Become a pirate. It's what you are."

"My father tells me I'm a Blackwell." Riley frowned up at, well, himself.

"You won't be one forever, trust me." Riley nodded, pulling his hand away and standing up. "Even if it feels like you will, you bloody won't. Understood?"

Riley squinted up at himself, pointing up at the scar around his neck. "What happened to your neck?"

Riley instinctively unfolded the collar of his black coat, in attempt to hide it. He pursed his lips, pinching the collar between his fingers. "...Don't worry about it. The important thing is, lad, I survived it. I'm a survivor, and this is proof." Riley replied.

"You must be really strong!"

"Yea, that's what my beloved tells me." Riley chuckled dryly. "Strong, a survivor, dashingly handsome- which in turn makes you handsome, seeing as we bear a resemblance to one another."

Riley grinned.

"I just wish I could take it off, or get rid of it...Avoid what made this happen to me." Riley traced his finger along the scar. "But it happened, and it's important that it happened. A lot of things happen for a reason, funnily enough." He ran a hand through his hair in thought. "Enough about that- become a pirate, follow that dream. And...And hang around Oscar more often, okay? As much as you can."

Riley nodded obediently.

"Talk to him more often, learn more from him. Appreciate him more." Riley listed off, playing with his claddagh ring. "Very few people are like he is in the outside world. Nice, and funny, and filled with any human decency. When they come by- and they will come by- grab them and never let go."

Riley was confused, but didn't ask questions. He just wondered if he'll have time to go visit Oscar before his bedtime.

Riley looked down at his younger self, and all he could think of was one thing: naïve. He rubbed the bridge of his nose, teeth clenched.

"Sir?"

"What now?" Riley opened his eyes back up. His blue eyes were more dull, and tired. A mysterious history behind them, and much less hope than this younger Riley had. Almost dead inside, almost.

"Thank you for talking to me. Nobody really ever talks to me except for Oscar, and if Oscar doesn't talk to me then it's the people who work in my house. Think i'll make a lot of friends as a pirate?"

"'Friends.'" Riley mocked. "No matter what other pirates you meet, only one of them will matter. Only one of them will be your best friend, maybe more. He's all you need, everyone else you'll meet will never be as important as him."

Riley nodded, eating the words up.

"You'll enjoy being a pirate nonetheless, though. It gets hard at times, sometimes maybe you'll regret it, you'll want to go back, you'll want so many other bloody f- uh, things. But in the end, you'll stay where you are. You'll stay who you are- a pirate. And it'll be the best thing that's ever happened to you."

Riley beamed, clearly excited. He reached a hand up, holding up his pinkie finger.

Riley crossed his pinkie around younger-Riley's pinkie, like the pinkie promises he used to do with Oscar, and frequently does with Jack.

Satisfied, little Riley pulled his hand away, the claddagh ring feeling cool against his skin in a weirdly comforting way.

Riley pat younger-him's cheek, pulling his hand away quickly to refrain from going in to hug him. He put his hands into the pockets of his coat, staring straight ahead.

Karmel Jordell Rosenstein aka Karmel Rosenstein

X-Men Alternate Timeline (2011-2019)

Karmel fixed his tie, one of the ones that belonged to his dad.

"My father has a tie like that."

"Does he?" Karamel arched a brow, trailing his fingers down his suspenders. "He has a nice taste in ties, then."

"I think they look weird." Younger Karmel admitted, tapping the band-aid on his nose. "I'd never wear them."

Karmel fought back a grin. "What ties do you wear, then?"

"I don't wear ties that much. I'm a teenager, I gotta wear teenage things. But I need ties because we do fancy things a lot." Younger Karmel rubbed the back of his neck. "If I do, it- it's blue or black. Red ones are ugly, and patterned ones are what my father wears." He explained. "...You look better than he does, though."

"Thank you...How close are you to your dad?"

"Pretty close. Him and my mother aren't mean to me, which is good, they're not supposed to be. My mother makes really good challah, and my father taught me how to ride horses 'n' stuff."

"Important traits." Karmel smirked. "Hey, you should, uh...Get your mom to teach you how to make challah like her. Could come in handy, maybe."

"It's just bread." Young Karmel hummed, "maybe, though. Then I won't need to overwork the house servants."

"That's the spirit. You could even grab someone with those skills."

"What? Like a girl?"

Karmel held back a laugh, "yea."

Karmel eyed the older-him that he didn't know was him. "I like your jacket, where'd you get it from?"

"Ah, thanks, but..." Karmel sucked his teeth, tugging his leather jacket. "I can't remember where I got it from, actually. Sorry."

"No worries, mister."

"How old are you, kid?"

"I'm thirteen, I turned thirteen recently."

Karmel both discovered his powers and lost his parents at 13, so he knew how much this younger-him was in for. "Thirteens a tough year."

"So I've been told."

"You'll get through, though, like I did. Weird things happen at thirteen, but just wait for adulthood." Karmel whistled lowly.

"What're you? Occupation-wise?"

"A librarian...ish. I don't need to, though. I got stacks, y'know?" Karmel rubbed his thumb against his pointer and middle finger to gesture at the fact that Karmel still has the Rosenstein money.

"What's so hard about being a librarian?"

"Nothing, it's just...Adulthood. I won't give you the nitty-gritty details, but, uh, taxes 'n' stuff." Karmel's lips formed a line. "What do you wanna be, kid?"

Little Karmel hummed in thought. "Dunno. I wanna open a winery...Rosenstein Winery, or something like that. I'll be a goddamn tycoon!"

Karmel smiled slightly; he forgot all about that old dream of opening up a winery or distillery of the sort. At least he grew up into a gin-drinking alcoholic. "Earns hard cash, eh?"

"My family's rich, I wouldn't need it either way."

Karmel nodded along. "Speaking of gals..."

"Yea?"

"Y'like blondes?" Karmel asked.

"Huh?"

"Blondes won't do you any good, lemme tell you that. Steer..." Karmel cleared his throat. "Steer clear of 'em when you can."

"O...Kay." The younger Karmel slowly nodded. "Any other hair colours I should be wary about?"

"Uh....blue-haired boys are your friends."

"Blue hair? People can have blue hair? You're kidding me."

"Apparently, man. Once in a lifetime stuff, if you get someone with blue hair, keep him." Karmel ran a hand through his hair, chuckling softly. "Blond boys are okay, though."

"You only saying that 'cause we're kinda blond?"

"Maybe." Karmel teased.

"...I'll allow it." The two shared a laugh.

Karmel indulged in the sound of his younger laugh, knowing that that could be one of the last times he'd laugh for years to come. He stopped laughing himself, to take it in.

Joshua Solomon Tobias Margolis aka Joshua Margolis

Inglourious Basterds (2009)

Joshua looked down at himself. "Hey, there."

"Hi!" Younger him greeted, at 16 years old. His hair was lighter and there was no part dangling over the side of his forehead. Joshua's fathers friend was to lay his musty hands on Joshua only one year later, and obviously he had time before he got into military life with Aldo.

"Where're your parents?"

"Talking to my- my- my fathers friend, right now."

"D-Do- Do you like this friend?"

"I- I- I want to, but, um..." Little Joshua grumbled in an uncomfortable manner. "I don't- I don't know, I just can't bring myself to. My bo- uh, my- my best friend, Aldo, said I don't need to force myself to like him."

"Really? My, uh, my boyfriend would agree with him." Joshua smiled down at his younger self, who broke out into a comfortable grin. "If- If someone makes you uncomfortable, or if they're mean, and there's no point in trying to change them, you don't need to, uh, like 'em. It's really that easy, y'know?"

"Yea, but..."

"Yea, I- I know." Joshua nodded. "You'll outgrow that feeling one- one day, trust me. One thing you'll soon understand, and that I'll tell you now so you get a head start, is that, uh...If anyone ever is mean to you, kid, or- or doesn't show you human decency, it isn't your fault. It will never be your fault. They- They- They have the ability to treat you like how you deserve to be treated-"

"Which is?"

"With kindness, and respect. Like a person." Joshua firmly answered. "Nothing inappropriate that could ever happen to you would ever be your fault, got it? You'll never kick-start anything, you'll know this to be true."

"Why are you telling me all this, sir?"

Joshua inhaled sharply. "Dunno...F-Felt like, uh, felt like kids need to be told this more often. I know I- I'd wanted to have, um, heard it when I was around your age." He stammered out, rubbing the back of his neck. "Your little friend, Aldo...He treating you well?"

"Um, boyfriend, actually." The younger Joshua corrected him. "And- And yea, he is. He's so charming!"

"I can only imagine." Joshua nodded, encouraging him to go on.

"He lets me read poetry to him, even the ones I've written- I'll become a poet one day, you know."

"You'll make a, uhm, a fine poet, I imagine."

"Thank you, truly." Joshua paused. "I really do adore Aldo, I- I do. It'd be so lonely without him, sitting in my orchard by myself, uhh, reading by myself...He's quite fun, he- he really is."

"That's good, it's good you have a protective figure like- like that in, uh, in your life. Almost everyone deserves someone there with them, like that. Keep him around."

Maxwell David Shelby aka Maxwell 'Max' Shelby

Peaky Blinders (2013-present)

Maxwell furrowed his eyebrows.

A younger Maxwell looked back at him, hair shorter and eyes wider. This was definitely him sometime before Finn was born. Maxwell's face was rounder, he was obviously shorter and also not a Peaky Blinder yet. He was yet to go through the highs and lows of being a Peaky Blinder, the ups and downs of a difficult romance with Alfie Solomons.

Maxwell squeezed his eyes shut, picturing Alfie in his head with the blind, blue eye and the weird scarring around it. He opened his eyes back up, taking a deep breath. "How are you?"

Maxie shrugged. "Well, I suppose. Mum and dad said we're getting a new sibling soon, so I'm super excited!"

"New siblings are quite exciting, I agree."

"Tommy and Arthur want it to be a boy...Well, everyone except Ada wants it to be a boy."

Maxwell laughed. "How old are you?"

"Fifteen-ish."

"Ah, yes. Exciting time in a man's life."

"You think I'm a man?"

"Would you rather be referred to as a boy?"

Maxie thought for a moment. "...You're right." He nodded. "Even still, I'm not allowed in the Peaky Blinders yet." Maxie frowned.

"Wait for a few more years, mate. You're still fifteen." Maxwell reminded himself. "Don't rush yourself to grow up."

"But when I grow up, I can get myself out there, and meet cute-...cute girls."

"Cute boys."

"I-" Maxie paused, a weight lifting off his shoulders. "...Yea. Cute boys. Do you-?"

Maxwell nodded.

"Have you-?"

"Yes." Maxwell nodded again. "Probably everything you're thinking of, yes."

"Same boy, or-?" Maxie squinted.

"I'm not a male prostitute, mate" Maxwell laughed. "Yes, all the same man. I haven't seen him in a while, but...I'm convinced to get back into contact with him soon." He told.

"What's he like?"

"He's..." Maxwell exhaled by blowing out through his mouth. "He's funny. He's real funny, in a naturally-goofy manner, but sometimes he's funny in situations where I can's laugh in. He's stressful, too, because of some of the things he does. But I can't help but..." He shrugged.

"I understand. It's a lot, right?" Maxie asked.

Maxwell nodded.

"Everything's always a lot." Maxie hummed. "It's always going to be a lot."

"Sometimes it'll be less."

"Either way, I hope I meet a boy who makes it...um...Less, I suppose?" Maxie suggested.

Maxwell inhaled sharply. "Yea, I hope so too." He half-smiled. "What else do you hope for?"

"I hope I find time to read more books..." Maxie pondered. "I hope my family still loves me when they find out I don't like girls."

"Oh, they will." Maxwell nodded. "Some people probably won't, but your family will and that's what matters."

Maxie held a wide smile on his lips, hope in his eyes. "Really? You think so?"

"I know so. Your family definitely loves you very much, a lot of them mean well...It'll just be hard to see it sometimes. Trust me, mate." Maxwell advised.

Maxie nodded, "I suppose so...And you're extremely sure?"

Maxwell counted the rings on his fingers. "Positively."

Cleophus 'Cleo' Elton

Sweeney Todd The Demon Barber Of Fleet Street (2007)

Cleophus sat down cross-legged in front of 4-year-old Cleo, the 4-year-old he was before Sweeney- previously Benjamin- got wrongly taken away to jail in Australia. The child he was before his father got arrested, and way before his mother died. Just the child he was.

"Are you me?" The kid asked. "You look like me."

"Would- Would you be mad if I was?" Cleophus smiled sheepishly.

Cleo tilted his head. "...No, if you're me I'm glad you don't look ugly."

Cleophus laughed a bit. "Charmed, I am, really. How old are you- we?"

"I'm four, how old are you?"

"Nineteen."

"Wow!" Cleo's jaw dropped. "I'm almost a whole adult!"

"Yea, almost, sure. Yes." Cleophus' lips twitched. "Technically, I am an adult. Don't let the 'teen' throw you off, don't let it."

Cleo nodded simply. "Am I married?"

Cleophus scoffed. "Slow down, mate. I'm nineteen. I would drink if I could, I'm not- I'm not out here proposing to every pretty person I see, no I'm not."

"How's mum and dad?"

Cleophus' face drooped. "...Mum's happy, I'd like to think. Dad..." He shrugged. "It's up to you."

Cleo decided to not ask questions. "Are you happy?"

Cleophus' head swayed from side to side. "I'm handsome, I can sing, I have money to my- my name...What more could I really need, what could I need?"

"I dunno," Cleo shrugged. "How's Lucy? And her parents?"

"Lucy's happy, most definitely happy with a friend of mine. Her mother...She..." Cleophus scratched at his neck, then tensed the muscles in his hand to stop. "I wouldn't ask about that just yet."

"You're not answering a lot of questions, sir."

"I'd rather you wait to find out the answers, I do," Cleophus sent him an apologetic look. "You still have Mr. Barker, though. And all his- his fantastical little stories that he tells you. You're safe with him."

"That's weird..." Cleo furrowed his eyebrows.

Cleophus shrugged. "Things get weird, they do. But ultimately, you'll be fine, you really will. What matters is I'll be okay in the end, meaning you will, too."

"I will?"

"Yes." Cleophus nodded. "I can't answer everything to you right now, and- and I'm sorry, I am. But...But I mean well by not telling you. You can trust yourself, can't you?"

Cleo hesitated. "Okay!" He nodded, giggling.

Cleophus sighed in relief. He smiled softly at younger-him, hoping his words would hold meaning. Cleophus outstretched his arms, Cleo understanding immediately and hugging him. He hugged- well, himself- a smile still on his face, but it just got wider.

Ambrósio 'Ambrose' Fargas

The Ninth Gate (1999)

Ambrósio buttoned up his red shirt, looking down at teenage him.

"Are you me?" Younger Ambrósio asked, with a baby-face and a single caramel streak in his quiff hair. He was more frequently called Chico at this time.

"You think?" Ambrósio asked sarcastically.

Chico rolled his eyes. "At least I'm still hot."

"You get hotter."

"With what?"

"With age, I don't know." Ambrósio shrugged.

"You still like the music I like?"

"Even more-so, it's part of all you got goin' for you right now."

"Why, what happened?"

"Hey, man, woah." Ambrósio raised his hands, gesturing for Chico to calm down. "Slow your roll, Chico. I'm not giving you all the goddamn deets. You gotta let things happen, you gotta let them affect you 'n' change you, because at the end of the day? You're still kicking. Your music is still kicking, your career is still kicking, you still look good, feel good, you're all fuckin' good."

"What about my family?" Chico kissed his teeth. "I gotta make sure they're good, too. Mãe, Pai, and Avô."

"What'd'you mean the family?" Ambrósio furrowed his eyebrows. "They still fucking love you, no matter what happens to them or you." He grit his teeth, looking away. "They'll be okay as long as you'll be okay, wherever you are and whoever you're with."

"What, like a guy?"

"...Would you accept a white guy?"

"A white guy?!" Chico repeated, then cackling. "What type of white man in the entire world would I bend over backwards for?"

"A really hot one, obviously. He's funny, and a bit mysterious...You'll meet him through Avô. He's a bit weird-lookin' due to a couple physical defining features, but oh, meu deus, hottest man you'll ever meet. Amazing kisser, and he's nice as hell, too, genuinely. Does stuff he ain't gotta do."

"...Are you making this all up-?"

"No, no!" Ambrósio waved his hands. "He's a hundred percent real, trust me, man. Trust yourself. You'll be safe with him, which may seem weird at first, but you'll be safe nonetheless. And- And chill, and actually kinda happy, and at a specific sort of peace that no song could ever even begin to bring you."

Chicho scratched his chin, thinking. "And you're not pulling my leg?"

"I couldn't."

"I'll be happy? Really? Seriously?" Chico asked. "No matter what happens to me?"

"Take it from me...you-? Us?" Ambrósio groaned. "You know what i fuckin' mean."

Chico nodded along.

"And you're sure you can't tell me?"

"I can't tell you shit, what's the matter with you?" Ambrósio playfully rolled his eyes. "How's the family, anyway? I- I live away from 'em, now."

"That kinda sucks." Chico sniffed. "They're fine, Mãe and Pai are both just as happy as you remember. I haven't seen Avô in a bit, but he's doing fine with his books."

Ambrósio smiled to himself. "You still have Santiago?"

"What, the stuffed lion?"

"Yea."

Chico failed at fighting back a smile. "Yea, why, do I get rid of him soon?"

"Not get rid of him, you just...take him off your bed, but you still keep him in your room. That's your best friend, dude. Asides from Carmen, but y'know. No one else could listen to your weird little theories about the true meanings of songs you listen to." Ambrósio rubbed his hands together. "With or without him- but specifically with- you'll be fine. You'll be okay, Ambrose."

Chico nodded.

Robin Fifer

Into The Woods (2014)

Robin ran a hand through his hair, watching the 17-year-old-himself in front of him.

"Are you...?"

"Yes, I am. Upset?"

"No, I don't mind my hair growing...It actually looks quite nice."

"That was the intended outcome." Robin smiled, standing up straight.

"And we grow a bit...what's the scar from?"

Robin pat the scar that went down over his eye. "A bird. Wanna guess what type?"

"There's many types of birds in the world. You allowing me- or yourself- to guess would mean it's one I'm extremely familiar with, yes-?"

Robin nodded, "precisely."

"Is it-...No."

"Yes, it is."

"A robin, truly?"

"Honestly. It stopped hurting very quickly, so do not be afraid."

"I would hope they'd be more kinder towards things with their namesake." The younger Robin giggled.

"Yes, well," adult Robin shrugged. "They aren't sentient enough to know your name...Our name?" He reminded himself.

"You're right about that." Robin agreed. "Do we still go on walks in the future?"

"More-so than I used to." Robin grinned. "Quite grounding, as always. I somehow enjoy it more." He chuckled in a confused manner. "You'll find out why once you're at my point."

"Do I still play the pipe?"

"Never leave home without it." Robin pulled aside his robe, showing the pipe attached to his belt.

"It hasn't changed at all!"

"Almost like magic, right?" Robin dropped his hand. "I'd never let anything happen to this pipe, just like you."

"Of course, it's important to me, especially what it helped me do."

"Yes, precisely."

"How are my parents? Are they still around?" Robin asked, seeing as his parents were yet to die.

"They're peaceful. How are the bakers?"

"Are they still around?"

"Telling you anything spoils the future. How are the bakers?"

"Just like you remember them." Robin furrowed his eyebrows.

"They haven't changed." The older Robin shook his head knowingly. "You become closer to them in the future, and the cute blacksmith." He winked.

Robin blushed lightly. "How close-?"

"Close enough to work under him...Not- Not like that-!" Robin quickly corrected himself. "I could earn money working with him, plus the money I make pipe-playing. It'll be quite stable after a while, I imagine."

"And I even gain a comfortable-looking cloak-rope of some sort..." Robin inspected.

Robin tossed the hood over his head. "With a hood."

"With a hood, wow!" Robin looked up in awe. "So what you're saying is, all in all...I'll be just fine?" He inquired.

"As fine as one can be."

Camilo Kenard Van Hellsing aka Camilo Van Hellsing

Resident Evil 8: Village (2021)

Camilo looked down at himself. "How old are you?"

A tanned boy with shorter dreads and bigger eyes gazed back up at him. "I'm five."

I was five, Camilo thought, only five. "Growing boy, eh?" He crouched down to 5-year-old himself, commonly nicknamed 'Cammie.' "I suppose you'd need to be, to protect a sister."

"Amancia!" Cammie called out. "My younger sister's name is Amancia." He beamed proudly.

Camilo sighed softly, patting the tricorn hat on his head. "Take good care of her, alright?" He instructed. "That goes without saying, but I feel it needed saying."

"I'm the best big brother ever, sir." Cammie told, "I love Amancia, she's so tiny and funny! I gotta watch over her like mum says to."

Camilo smiled slightly. "Good boy." He nodded. "And look after your parents?"

"They look after me, sir, they're my parents."

Camilo gulped. "Yes, but they're your family. You need to take care of your family, or else it's not a bloody family, now, is it?"

Cammie blinked slowly, then nodded along.

"You take care of everyone you love. You love your sister."

"Yea!" Cammie cheered.

"You love your parents?"

"Mhm!"

"Then you take care of them, and anyone else you'll meet that you love. You make sure they know you love them." Camilo advised to his younger self, seeing as his younger self had no idea what was coming.

"Sir, yes sir!"

Camilo giggled to himself. "Your family treating you nicely, mate?" He hummed when his younger self nodded. Camilo could barely remember what life was like before, and he clung to what he could. "Good, good..." He trailed off, thinking of what else to say. "Nothing wrong with you, is there?"

Cammi shrugged, going quiet.

"Ah, don't give me that." Camilo looked away. "Nothing's wrong with you, lad. Nothing ever will be, no matter what anyone tells you." He told. "Trust me on that."

"Trust a pirate?"

"Not a real one, not yet at least." Camilo took his hat off, placing it over his heart. "Trust me, half-pirate's honor."

Cammie hummed in thought. "...Okay!" He nodded.

"Lovely." Camilo put his hat back on, shaking his head a bit to adjust his dreads. He sniffed. "You'll probably be able to sail the seas one day, too, if you'd like."

"Wow, I'd love to!"

"There we go," Camilo outstretched his arms in a presenting manner. "The world's your oyster."

"What the heck does that mean?"

Camilo blinked slowly. "...Never mind, then." He shook his head. "It means you can basically do whatever you want, or something of the like- so I've been told. Whatever you please, as long as it's okay with you and doesn't bring you any harm or land you in any trouble. Savvy?"

Cammie nodded in understanding. "I hope I'll be as cool as you, one day."

Younger me thinks I'm cool. Camilo's face absolutely lit up. "Such a charming young lad, eh?" He rhetorically asked. "You won't even need to try. You'll be cool when you're older."

"Thank you, mister!"

Camilo glanced at the rings on his fingers. He sighed, smile faltering. "Nothings wrong with you, kid. Nothing ever will be, and nothing ever has." Camilo reminded him. "Remember that."

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