#and Ed was so turned on he planned to raid the ship himself

[goayda]

What if… (in a S1 AU where there was no duel and they are all learning to work together) Stede and the crew are discussing a new fuckery for a raid and Roach suggests tricking some other ship’s crew into eating poisoned apples, like in that story Stede read to them the other night, and then steal everything from them. The crew likes it, but Stede is not sure killing with poison is very gentlemanly or kind so he convinces them to change the plan a bit.

Instead of a deadly poison, Roach promises to use something else (They’ll be totally out of it, he assures Stede, we could steal the clothes they’re wearing and they won’t complain) and instead of apples, since they don’t really have much fruit to spare, they will use cookies that they will offer to them while disguised as merchants.

So Roach starts cooking, the crew keeps their eyes on the horizon to see if they can find a target and Stede goes to tell Ed about their plan.

A bit later, though, Izzy, who has been sleeping through the morning because he had the night shift, wakes up and goes to the galley to get himself some coffee and sees some recently made cookies there and they are so tempting! He usually complains loudly about how much food they waste on pastries and cakes, but there is nobody there (Roach must have just gone out) so he takes a few of them because, hell, he is hungry, and he leaves with the cookies and the coffee before anybody can see him.

He gulps everything down quickly because he wants to check the plan for the day with the captains and they also have to talk about restocking soon, but when he goes to the captain’s cabin, Edward is in the middle of one of his stories and Stede doesn’t stop asking questions about it so Izzy just stands there and waits for them to finish.

When they do and they finally remember they were supposed to be talking about something else, Stede turns to Izzy to tell him about the fuckery they are getting ready, but he realizes that the man looks a bit… unwell. When Stede gets closer to ask him if he is alright, Izzy sways and he is about to fall face-first on the floor, but Stede manages to catch him at the last moment and that’s how he finds himself holding the full weight of the man against his chest.

“Soft,” Izzy mumbles while he rubs his face against Stede’s silk shirt. “So soft…”

Edwards laughs so hard at this, but Stede isn’t finding it funny because the first mate, who is clinging to him like a limpet now, is clearly not well. Once Edward stops laughing, though, he reassures Stede that it’s nothing too serious.

“Did you get something to eat from the kitchen today, mate?” Edward asks the first mate, amused. “It looks like Roach has already made those cookies you talked about, Stede.”

And Stede watches in amazement how Izzy blushes and then tries hide his face against his chest.

“How long does the effect of those cookies last, Ed?” Stede asks, still sounding concerned.

“I think we’re about to find out, mate,” Edward replies with a shit-eating grin.

(Then he goes to lock the door of the cabin because, yes, this is so funny, but if the rest of the crew sees Izzy like this and they tease him about it when the man is sobered up again, Izzy will jump overboard and Edward can’t have that.

When he reaches the door, though, Edward hears a loud whine and when he turns around he sees that Izzy is reaching an arm out to him.

“Eddie, don’t go,” Izzy says, pouting.

And Edward chokes on his own spit.)

[boatcats]

Make You Laugh

Eddie had never felt so wretched at the beginning of shoreleave. Normally feeling sick was confined to the last day as the crew suffered through their hangovers in an attempt to board the ship at least somewhat sober when the time came.

But Eddie hadn't had anything to drink. And he probably wouldn't get to. He'd have to pay the doctor and then shell out for a room in which to curl up for a few days and hopefully sleep it all off. That didn't leave anything for drink. It didn't leave much of anything for food either but one step at a time.

Fuck Hornigold and double fuck fucking Timothy (rest his soul).

Ed and Timothy had boarded the merchant ship together during the raid. The plan - the fucking plan - was that they'd fight together in the stern. But Timothy got ... excited or panicked or something and next thing Ed knew he was running up amidships slashing and hacking as he went. Which left Ed in the stern. By himself.

He'd done his best but his arm had gotten slashed all to hell. Which sucked but admittedly didn't hold a candle to what happened to Timothy when Hornigold found out he'd abandoned his post.

Ed hadn't fucking told. Timothy got himself caught up near the bow somehow and Ed heard the mate yelling "what are you doing up here?" and winced despite his frustration and the blood dripping down his arm.

Timothy was keelhauled later that night. And Ed was called forward by the mate and informed that he'd be holystoning the decks with sea water for losing control - shredded arm and all.

It hadn't been Ed's job to watch Timothy and he could tell the mate disagreed with the punishment. The mate didn't like when expectations weren't clear. But they were all just bobbing along in Hornigold's wake so the mate handed Ed the holystone and bucket and Ed holystoned the decks. His arm didn't like that.

His arm had not gotten better in the days that followed.

So now here he was on shoreleave, tired and sick and about to pay out all his share for a doctor and a bed to crawl into. Fuck.

"Eddie! Hey Eddie!" Jack popped out of a tavern door and ran up to Ed. "Wanna bet I can chug this whole gallon of milk?"

Eddie gave Jack a once over. He did, indeed, have a gallon of milk. "What do you have that for?" he asked.

"To chug. Nicked it when the barkeep's back was turned. Come on! Think I can chug it?"

"No," Ed said.

"Watch!" Jack winked, tipped his head back, and put the neck of the gallon to his lips. He started strong with at least five good swallows but he appeared to have forgotten he'd need to breathe at some point. His eyes began to take on a panicked look. At last he breathed in. But he forgot to take the bottle away from his lips so what he breathed in was milk.

Things got chaotic after that. Jack coughed and choked and wheezed and continued to pour a steady stream of milk down the front of his shirt.

Ed started laughing. He couldn't help it.

Then Jack started laughing, too. In between choking.

When Jack could speak again he rasped "Told you I could do it!"

That was it for Ed. "Fuck!" he gasped, laughing so hard tears ran down his cheeks. He kept trying to get himself under control then he'd look at Jack and start again.

Something was unfolding warm in his chest. That was the thing about a boy doing something stupid to make you laugh - it was stupid but it meant he wanted you to laugh.

"So where are you headed?" Jack asked once they'd finally laughed themselves out and Jack had wiped some of the milk out of his eyes.

Ed sighed. "Doctor. Fucked my arm up. Then inn, I guess. Need to sleep."

"Wanna go halvsies on a room?" Jack gave him an obviously calculating look.

"No, you'll be loud and invite the whole town over."

"Yeah, but you're fucked up enough to sleep through at least some of that. And I'll be gone during the day. Mostly. We can get a nicer room if we both chip in."

Ed thought about it. If he and Jack went in on a room together it would leave him enough coin to buy a square meal or two. And he'd have someone there if he got really sick. Jack was probably better than no one at all. Probably.

Ed would never tell but he was a little scared. At least someone would know if he died.

"Fuck it. Yeah. I'll go in on a room with you. Meet you at the inn?"

"Hell yeah!" Jack pumped the air. "Go do your doctor thing. I'll meet you at the inn."

[xylodemon]

[ofmd prompt ficlet] Matelotage (Ed/Izzy)

Ed/Izzy | gen | ~1000 words

(post-mutiny, matelotage proposals)

For izzythecowboy, who wanted married Ed/Izzy. Originally posted here.

Ed asks, "How's the crew?" as soon as Izzy closes the door behind him. 

As far as Izzy's concerned, the crew is a bunch of faithless cunts. The La Concorde has only made port once since the mutiny; most of the men on deck are Hornigold's leftovers, and too many of them had waited to declare for Ed until it was clear the old bastard was as good as dead. Izzy doesn't trust any of them, and there are at least two who'd serve Ed better with a slit throat. Izzy will have to do it himself, unless he can maneuver them into killing each other.

But that's not what Ed's asking. Izzy says, "Only minor injuries."

"What about Horace?" Ed presses. He's wearing the leather pants he picked up on their last raid. They look strange on him, after years of seeing him in maroon, rough-spun breeches.  Becoming, but strange. "I saw him take that knife."

"It didn't hit anything important. Doc Thomas already put a hot blade to it."

"And the take?"

"Cloth, mostly."

Ed brightens a bit. "Silk?"

"Cotton." Silk fetches considerably better prices, but it's nearly impossible to get this time of year. Izzy continues, "Provisions, which we need. Some spices. A bit of gold."

"Coins?"

Izzy shakes his head. "Fripperies. The kind of dross posh twats put in their houses." A frown tugs at Ed's mouth, so Izzy adds, "That Dutch fellow in the Republic—Roord—he'll buy it by weight."

"I know," Ed says, dismissive. He pauses before asking, "We did alright though, yeah? For our second raid out from under Old Horny's thumb?"

"Yeah, Boss. We did."

Ed murmurs, "Boss," under his breath. He pauses again. He spends a few moments fiddling with something in the pocket of his shirt. Then: "Iz, come here."

Izzy can't imagine what Ed wants, but it's an order, so he follows it. He takes a step closer, and—after Ed scoffs and beckons him with his other hand—another. He hesitates then, and Ed pulls him yet closer by the sleeve.

"Iz." Ed rests his hand on Izzy's shoulder, then drags it down the length of Izzy's arm—slowly, almost a caress. When he reaches Izzy's wrist, he tucks two fingers under the band of his glove, nestling them into the center of Izzy's palm. He strokes the burned skin there, the reminder of a fire they escaped together. "Is that all I am to you, mate? Your boss?"

"You—" Izzy looks away.

He wants Ed, certainly. And they've touched each other before; they shared a bunk on Hornigold's ship so long that it was almost inevitable that they'd seek relief in each other. But he never imagined that Ed wanted anything more than his hand when he woke up hard, or sometimes his mouth, and that was before Jack signed on and they fell in together. Before Ed got promoted—first to first mate, then to his own command—and they'd stopped sleeping in the same cot at all.

He'd been surprised, after Hornigold's corpse went overboard, when Ed pulled him aside and asked him to be his first mate. He'd been sure Ed would ask Jack—and that Jack would agree, for all the noise he made about wanting his own ship while the mutiny was being planned. But Ed had asked him. He'd said that he had plans, and that Izzy was the only one he trusted to make them happen.

"Iz." Ed cups Izzy's jaw, a move that startles Izzy into stepping back, but Ed just follows him, huffing out a laugh. He rubs his thumb over Izzy's lower lip, then says, "I've got something for you," and a shiny bit flashes in his other hand.

It's a ring. Gold with some kind of green stone—probably agate or jade, although it's impossible to tell in the cabin's flickering candlelight. It's old; the inside of the band is worn from years and years on a finger.

"I took it in our last raid with the old goat," Ed says, when Izzy just stares at him. "Cut it off some dead twat's finger. I had to keep it in my mouth when we turned in the loot so Sebastian wouldn't find it." After a pause, he puts it in Izzy's gloved hand and curls his fingers around it. "I want you to have it. I want us to—"

"Ed," Izzy cuts in. His heart is beating in his throat. He'd had a matelot once, during his time in the Navy, but James went overboard in a storm, and a year later, Izzy had been sailing on his own hook. He's never considered anchoring himself to someone else—least of all Ed, who is brilliant, and addictive, and too beautiful by half. "You don't have to."

"I know that," Ed replies. He squeezes Izzy's hand, still closed over the ring. "I want to. I want you."

"I'm not… I won't leave you," Izzy insists. "Even without this. I wouldn't—"

"I know that too." Ed frowns at Izzy for a moment, then says, "Not why I'm asking," and pulls Izzy in for a kiss.

It's soft and chaste—just a brush of lips and Ed's hand sliding to the back of Izzy's neck, but Izzy finds himself gasping and grabbing at Ed's arms.

As Ed pulls back, he asks, "You get it now?"

Izzy does. And he shouldn't—there are financial implications for Ed, and it could undermine his authority if they aren't careful—but it's Ed. Izzy can't say no.

"Yeah."

Ed smiles at him. "We're going to be the greatest pirates in history."

"You might."

"Nah, mate. Both of us."

[adzeisval]

Madness on the Revenge

Izzy loses another toe. The crew doesn't know what to do. Ed just wants it to end. Also on AO3.

Izzy cleaned the blood from his sword in a bit of a daze. They’d taken two ships in less than twelve hours and it was all getting to be a little too much. It didn’t help that he was still recovering from his second amputated toe and fighting infection from both losses. 

The crew was looking down as well. And Ed? Didn’t look like he was going to stop anytime soon. 

Izzy was trying his best to keep up with things on the ship, making sure they had supplies, making sure the crew was in fighting conditions and making sure they didn’t trigger Ed’s tempter. He tried his best to keep Ed safe. He didn’t know what else to do. He’d fucked up, badly. Ed was…suicidal, hurt, going mad. Things were wrong and Izzy had no idea how to fix it. 

Ed was leaning on the railing at the port side of the ship smiling as he looked at the sea. Ed seemed to be in a good mood after the most recent raid and Izzy thought it might be a good time to approach him; they had a bit of an issue they needed to attend to. 

“Captain?” 

“Yes?” 

“We didn’t take enough gunpowder on the last raid, we really should go to port to get some. And some more food and water while we’re at it,” Izzy said. 

“No. We’re not going to land, we’ll make do.” 

“It puts us in a lot of danger, especially if we take a warship next,” Izzy said, “We can’t afford to lose more men.” 

“They’re pirates, they die,” Ed said, “We’ll either break this record of die trying.” 

“Ed…” 

Ed turned to look at him and Izzy felt a cold chill run down his spine, “That’s enough Izzy.” 

Izzy shook his head, “We really do need supplies, Captain, and the crew…” Izzy had looked away from the intensity of Ed’s gaze. When he looked back the look on Ed’s face made him stop cold. He felt a shiver run down his spine. When Ed looked away again Izzy turned to go speak to Fang and Jim. 

“During the next raid we need to try to get as much gunpowder as possible, we’re running low but we are not going to shore,” Izzy said. 

“Yes boss,” Fang said. Both crewmates looked like they wanted to say something but Izzy walked away before they could. 

Izzy hoped the next ship they took was an easy mark and they didn’t have to use much gunpowder and found a target with plenty of it to spare. 

Izzy didn’t sleep well, he was worried that Ed wouldn’t be satisfied with just a punch, but no one came into his room overnight. He came up on deck to an almost manic Ed filling several pots with their limited supply of gunpowder. 

“Captain?” 

“Morning Izzy! We’re almost at our next target and I have a good fuckery planned.” 

“With the rest of our gunpowder?” 

Ed seemed to ignore that and Izzy looked around at the mess that he was making. There were several piles of powder on the deck that were getting blown around. Ed was doing it on purpose and Izzy didn’t know what to do. 

He wanted to yell at Ed, he wanted to take the powder from him and hide the rest. Ed was going to get them all killed. 

Somehow the raid went well, the fuckery wasn’t even needed but they were able to recoup at least a little. It still wasn’t enough. Izzy was tired and felt sick and just wanted to sleep and didn’t want to have to do a raid again the next day. 

“See Izzy, all is well.” 

“All is not well Captain,” Izzy said. He said it a little too loudly, some of the crew were sure to have heard him. Ed was giving him a funny look but Izzy needed to walk away to not make things worse. 

Izzy was so tired he wasn’t even thinking about something happening that night. 

*****

Ed knew Izzy well, but maybe he had underestimated the man’s loyalty. Maybe it was more like devotion. Ed didn’t want to think of it like that. What he needed to do was get Izzy to turn against him. 

Izzy wanted him to be Blackbeard and Ed wanted him to regret it. Ed hated Blackbeard, hated himself and he wanted, maybe needed, Izzy to hate Blackbeard as well. But it didn’t seem to be happening as fast as Ed thought it would. 

Ed didn’t always know what he was doing though.  He just…everything hurt and he wanted it to stop and if he could just get Izzy to turn it would…things would work out wouldn’t it?

Ed didn’t know. He didn’t care. There wasn’t any hope, was there? No love for him. Nothing. 

Ed knew that Izzy was a loyal man, much like a guard dog, doing Blackbeard’s bidding all these years. Well, sometimes a dog would bite its master and Ed hoped he could push Izzy to that breaking point. 

Maybe that was the only way he could get what he wanted. The end of Blackbeard and that would be the end of Ed too wouldn’t it? 

Ed had been trying to hard to get it all to end; he felt he was close to making Izzy turn, the crew would do it soon as well, every raid might kill him and if worse came to worse maybe Ned Low would get pissed enough and come do it. Or maybe there would be a storm. 

Something needed to happen. 

*****

It was dark, sometime in the middle of the night when he woke up to find Ed sitting by his bed. Ed smiled, not a nice smile, when he saw Izzy was awake. 

“Captain?” Izzy asked. 

“Hey Izzy,” Ed said. Izzy didn’t dare move. Ed drew his knife from his belt and Izzy let out a little gasp. 

“I really didn’t appreciate how you talked to me today, Izzy,” Ed said. 

“I’m sorry Captain,” Izzy said. 

Ed sighed, “There you go talking again.” Izzy flinched as Ed moved, in an instant Ed’s hand was covering Izzy's mouth and the knife was at his throat. That was new. 

“You talk too much Izzy,” Ed said. 

Izzy tried not to make a sound, he couldn’t really speak with Ed’s hand over his mouth anyway but he didn’t think making any noise was a good idea. 

Ed pressed the knife harder, “Do you think I can cut just right so you can’t speak anymore? Without killing you?” Ed moved the knife around Izzy’s throat as if he was trying to figure out how to cut. Izzy tried to keep still but he was starting to shake and he couldn’t help the whimper that escaped his lips. 

Izzy felt the knife bite into his skin and he whimpered again and closed his eyes. When he opened them again he was blinking away tears. It was going to hurt, Ed was going to cut and Izzy didn’t know if he’d survive and how badly maimed he would be if he did live. 

“Maybe just a little poke,” Ed said, raising the knife with the tip over Izzy’s throat. Izzy whimpered again and shut his eyes as Ed brought the knife down, but there was no pain. The knife was still hovering just above Izzy’s throat. Izzy sobbed and shook. He brought a shaking hand up to Ed’s and touched his wrist. 

Ed flicked Izzy's hand away, “None of that.” 

Izzy couldn’t hide how badly he was shaking and crying. It was too much. This wasn’t Ed, it shouldn’t be Ed. What had he done to the man? A man he loved. How had he been so blind to see what he was doing to Eddie?

“Here’s the deal Izzy, I’m going to cut off another toe, and you’re going to eat it. The quieter you can be the better. Then maybe I won’t cut your throat.” 

Izzy nodded and Ed removed his hand from Izzy's mouth and lifted the knife from Izzy’s neck. There wasn’t much time to brace himself, in one fluid motion the knife was at his foot and another toe was severed. 

Izzy tried his best to not scream. He managed to keep it to a closed mouth groan until the moment he felt Eddie pressing the newly severed toe to his lips. Izzy couldn’t help but let out a sobbing whimper as he opened his mouth. He hoped it wasn’t too much as he bit down on his own toe and chewed. It was difficult to do between the sobs and the pain but he managed to swallow and keep the toe down. 

Izzy kept as calm as he could as he waited for Ed’s judgment. Ed twirled the bloody knife in his hand for a few moments then looked Izzy in the eyes. 

“That’s enough for now,” he said. Izzy nodded. Ed sighed and got up and stolled out of Izzy’s room as if he’d just been in for a little chat. 

Izzy didn’t move for quite some time, he didn’t really want to deal with anything. He was still shaking but for a short time he was completely silent. Then he moved a little, his foot twinging in pain and he started to cry. 

His stomach hurt worse than the other times and he curled up on his side and drew his knees to his chest. He knew he needed to tend to his new wound but he just couldn’t. 

Izzy couldn’t believe how crazy it had gotten. Ed had always been volatile but Izzy had never been on the receiving end of his madness. Worse though was the knowledge of how badly he’d hurt Eddie. He didn’t know how to fix it. Didn’t know how to save Ed. He didn’t know how to save the crew from Ed, the man surely would get bored with Izzy eventually and they’d be targets, more than they already were. 

Izzy had failed Ed, failed the crew, failed everything. He’d thought he was doing the right thing, he thought he was protecting Eddie but pushing him to be Blackbeard. He needed that shield to protect himself, or so Izzy thought. Maybe Izzy needed it more than Ed. 

Izzy cried as he thought about how fucked up everything was.Ed was torturing him but Izzy couldn’t even bring himself to be mad at Ed. He should hate Ed shouldn’t he? He didn’t. Izzy hated himself. 

*****

Frenchie hadn’t really paid attention to Izzy losing the first toe, he was too busy trying to figure out what was going on with Ed and why he was kept on board. If he knew why he was there maybe he would be able to keep himself there. 

Frenchie was sleeping in the room next to Izzy’s when Ed came for the second toe. He heard Izzy crying in pain and Ed’s voice low and menacing. Izzy was limping the next morning with a bloody bandage around his foot. 

Izzy didn’t say anything or seek any help for the issue and Frenchie knew it was safer to stay out of whatever was going on between Ed and Izzy. It was safer but it was difficult. Even though Izzy was an ass most of the time, Frenchie didn’t like watching what was going on with him. 

Frenchie had seen the look that Ed had given Izzy and couldn’t sleep thinking he would hear Ed going after Izzy again. He wasn’t wrong. He had managed to fall asleep but woke to the sound of Ed’s boots tramping down the hall. 

It wasn’t long before he heard voices, then crying and muffled sounds of Izzy in pain. It sounded bad. Izzy sounded bad and then it was much too quiet as Ed left. 

“Oh no,” Frenchie whispered to no one, “Please.” He hadn’t just heard Ed murder Izzy had he? Izzy didn’t deserve that, he really didn’t. Frenchie decided he had to get up to see, he’d had the horrible thought that Izzy might be dying right next door and though Frenchie wouldn’t be able to do anything Izzy didn’t have to die alone. 

Then he heard crying. 

Frenchie sighed in relief as the crying grew louder. Izzy was alive, and it didn’t sound like he was too badly hurt. 

“Is he crying?” Jim asked from across the room.

“Yes,” Frenchie said. Jim crossed the room and Frenchie sat up so they could sit beside him. 

“He was too fucking quiet,” Jim said. 

“I know, I thought something worse had happened,” Frenchie said. Just then Izzy let out a loud broken sob. 

“Fuck,” Jim said, “Should we make sure he’s alright.” 

“I want to but, he might not like it. We might scare him more than anything,” Frenchie said. 

“We need to find the right time to talk to him about this. It isn’t right,” Jim said. 

“I know,” Frenchie said. Everything on the Revenge was so volatile though. Frenchie didn’t know how Izzy was going to react. He didn’t know what Ed would do if they comforted Izzy. It might make Ed want to hurt Izzy even more. 

And it hadn’t escaped anyone’s notice that Ed was in the state he was in because he too was hurting. Really badly hurting. It felt wrong to consider hurting him even more, but what he was doing to Izzy wasn’t right. 

Ed was playing games with them all and it was an impossible game to win. 

*****

Izzy woke up to the sun shining in on him and feeling like utter shit. His head was stuffy and his eyes were sore. He was all clogged up and his foot was killing him. He’d fallen asleep or passed out before he’d had time to take care of the wound. The bleeding had stopped but there was blood everywhere. 

Izzy cleaned and bandaged the wound as best he could. He looked at himself in his mirror and he looked like shit. There was no real way of hiding that he had been crying all night. 

There was a knock at his door and he jumped, his heart started to race.

“Izzy? It’s Frenchie, we’re getting ready for a raid mate.” 

“I’ll be out shortly,” Izzy said. He hid the evidence of his horrible night as best he could with kohl and other makeup. He looked horrible still but that was the point. It was likely going to be a rough day; he didn’t know if the crew had properly prepared for the raid in his absence. 

Izzy went up on deck and found that everything was going well. Ed hadn’t come out of the Captain’s cabin so maybe Izzy wasn’t going to be in trouble, not that day. 

“We’ll be at the ship in a quarter hour,” Fang said. 

“All weapons are ready and loaded,” Jim said. 

“From what I can see they won’t put up much of a fight,” Frenchie said. Izzy looked at the crew. They knew. They knew something and they had put in the effort to try to do their jobs well. 

“Thank you,” Izzy said. He wanted to say more but at that moment Ed chose to come out of the cabin and Izzy had to push down all his feelings and do his duty. 

The raid went well, it was an easy mark and the crew were in fine form. Ed was in a good mood and handed out bottles of rum and retreated to his room smiling. Izzy went to his room and collapsed on his bed. 

Izzy didn’t know how much longer he could deal with things as they were. He had to protect the crew, he had to try to save Ed, and maybe he would have enough energy left over to save himself. 

*****

Ed saw Izzy, face red and foot bloody, and Izzy did his best to work as normal. He wasn’t going to turn on Ed, he wasn’t going to help Ed with what he needed. Ed could figure out how to make it happen, it would happen eventually if he kept at it.

Ed longed for quiet and peace, and he knew that Izzy was the key.

[adickaboutspoons]

📒 (this one also)

*stage whisper* PSSST! You forgot to make this one anonymous. Lol. How about a little Stede Bonnet Defense Squad collaborative storytelling number I knocked back and forth with one @poetic----nonsense. About a certain captain being forced to walk the plank. His noble chin held aloft with the last shreds of his pride, the salt air disarranging his touselled hair. And how he baits another certain captain out on to the plank with him. And then sheaths that captain's blade in his own body (just like he taught him to all that time ago) and sweeps his legs out from under him to send them both crashing to the sea below. And then Stede passes out from the shock of the cold water and the fall and the blade in his gut, and Ed saves him, but a sudden complusions makes him sets out for a nearby spit of land instead of turning back to the rescue lines being lowered by the ship. And how he hides them in the forest to keep the crew from finding them. And commadeers a fishing boat and finds a tiny abandoned shack on the outskirts of a tiny town on the mainland and nurses Stede through his fever and infection. And then they start to live together, surviving off fish they catch in the lagoon and stuff Ed steals from the market in town and the henhouses at night, and Ed is NOT examining why he is doing this, or how good it feels to bed down together in the one narrow cot or to wake up in Stede's arms. Which is not helped when Stede starts to asky why Ed saved him. The question becomes a refrain in their strange new domesticity. Ed tries all sorts of answers. It was instinct. It was madness. It was a snap decision and he regrets it more every day. They're all true (they're none of them the truth), and still Stede asks. Things come to a head one night after the two are caught unawares by a rainstorm. They fight and they kiss and they break apart - hurt and confused and still with SO much unresolved shit. They fall asleep miserably huddled on their own sides of the room. And when Ed wakes in the cold light of dawn, Stede isn't there. The next day Ed is miserably going through the motions, telling himself that he's better off without Stede. Now he only has to look after himself. And then in the market he hears that the bandit that's been raiding the henhouses at night has been apprehended.

He spends all day and the next apprising the situation at the gaol. The circuit judge is expected in the next week, so he has to move fast. He breaks into the place in the night... to find the guard asleep and the cell door not even locked. And instead of Stede, he finds a young girl in the cot. He returns home, defeated and deflated. Stede just ran off after all. What else should he have expected? But as he nears the shack, there's smoke rising from the chimney and a light in the window. He runs the rest of the way, exhaustion forgotton.

It's not Stede in the shack.

It's Izzy.

At first Ed is releaved to hear that Stede is on the ship. Cross that he went and flagged them down without talking it over with Ed first, but at least he's among familiar faces. He tells Iz it's a change of plans - he's not going back, so to tell Stede that he can come home and they'll talk about it.

Izzy tells him that Stede isn't going anywhere. And that if Ed doesn't move his ass, Stede will never go anywhere ever again.

Ed tries to reason with Izzy - Ed's out! Izzy can take over, and with his blessing. There's no need to be like this.

But Izzy needs the authority of Blackbeard. He doesn't say it that way, of course. Instead he says that he didn't link his life with Ed's to let him walk away. That their kind don't GET to retire. That Blackbeard's story doesn't end with Ed playing house with Stede fockin' Bonnet.

He tells him he thought it would talk a lot longer for Stede to give Ed up. That they had to put some real muscle into it.

Icy dread shivering down his spine, Ed asks what Izzy did to Stede. "Everything that Blackbeard should have." Something something Stede has been whumped but good. Something something, I don't know where it goes from there.

[laiqualaurelote]

I would love a little something of either Pirate!Trent and Pirate!Ted or Club Owner!Ed and Excitable Coach!Stede.

Three weeks into his kidnapping, Captain Trent Crimm, formerly of HMS Independent, had to conclude that Ted Lasso really was the worst pirate who had ever sailed the seven seas. That he had still managed to kidnap Trent was beside the point.

“I mean, I know that raid didn’t go the way we planned it,” Ted was saying, “but all of this ain't about the booty to me, 'cause that ain't how we measure success, right?" 

“Damn it!” yelled the quartermaster, whom everyone called Beard and whose Christian name Trent had yet to figure out. “It is, Ted! It is about the booty!”

“He has a point, you know,” said Trent. 

“Thank you, random hostage whose feedback I did not ask for,” said Beard. He paused. “Why is the hostage up on deck, again?”

“I’m all for constructive criticism,” said Ted. “Trent here brings a perspective from the other side of the industry we don’t often get to hear, mainly ‘cause they’re trying to blow us to bits.”

“I can go back in the brig if you like, if this is awkward,” offered Trent.

“I mean, you really don’t have to,” said Ted.

“Um, no, he kind of fucking does,” barked Roy Kent, the bosun. “Because that’s what you do with hostages, you put them in the fucking brig or next thing you know, they’ve stuck you in the gut and nicked your dinghy and there’s you bleeding out on your own deck like an absolute knob.”

“I mean, we are miles from any shore, so it’s not like I would get very far in a dinghy,” Trent pointed out, “but, you know what, I’m just going to go lock myself in.”

It had all started because of the kidnapping of the Governor's wife. A whole swathe of the Navy had had to be sent out after her, including the Independent, which had in fact caught up with the Greyhound, and would probably have taken her too, if a Spanish frigate had not chosen that very moment to intervene. In the ensuing fracas, the Independent had been sunk and Trent left for dead, only to wake up days later to find himself under the scrutiny of the missing governor’s wife and the world’s worst pirate.

It turned out that Lady Mannion had hired some clodhopper out of Kansas to stage her kidnapping. Trent didn’t know anything about Kansas, beyond the fact that it was landlocked, which explained a lot about Ted. Trent wasn’t even sure how the Greyhound was still afloat. It probably had something to do with them having an actually decent navigator, one Nathan Shelley, whom Trent was fairly sure had been a cabin boy just last week. 

And so they sailed on, weaving across the Caribbean, conspicuously failing to take prizes along the way. The ship seemed to be funded by the considerable wealth the former Lady Mannion had absconded with, which was perhaps the real reason why the Governor had been so keen to retrieve her. (He had remarried rather quickly, to a young miss barely out one season in Nassau society.) The crew of the Greyhound did not seem inclined to murder or ransom Trent, who was mildly insulted at first, because surely he must be a hostage of some value. But all Ted did was invite him occasionally to his cabin for "chats". Trent expected interrogation or torture, but it really did seem like all Ted wanted to do was chat. On the last occasion, he had regaled a bewildered Trent with numerous fascinating facts about the migratory patterns of swifts. Trent had to admit it was the most relaxing time he had had in twenty years with the Navy, which, if he was being honest, had begun to wear on him somewhat.

Trent let himself back into the brig, which was nominally guarded by Dani Rojas. Most of the time, Trent sat around reading a book while Dani juggled knives and cheerfully sang shanties in Spanish outside. The knifework, Dani had blithely informed him when they met, was in aid of his quest to avenge the murder of his father by a six-fingered brigand, because “Revenge is life!”

“I think you’ll find, actually, that it’s the opposite,” Trent had observed.

This had given Dani pause. “You mean revenge is death?”

“I’m afraid so.”

Dani had mulled this over. “But until death happens, revenge is life!”

“Fine. Whatever floats your boat.”

Eventually Ted came down to see him. “Take a break, Dani.”

“I shall never break, capitán!”

“Right. Okay. Uh, go swab the deck or something.”

“Aye aye, capitán! You say it, I do it!”

Ted pulled up a chair outside. “First off, Trent, I’m real sorry that we’ve inconvenienced you like this.”

Trent reached for a bookmark. “This. This is why people keep saying you’re the worst pirate in the world, Ted. If all a pirate has done is inconvenience, then they’re severely underachieving.”

Ted brushed that off. “If it were up to me, we’d drop you off at the nearest port, no hard feelings.”

Trent sighed. “I’d probably get court-martialled if I went back at this point. The Navy isn't terribly forgiving, you know.”

“Darn,” said Ted, sincerely horrified. “It’s worse than I thought.”

“Never mind.” Trent flapped a hand wearily. “Just leave it.”

“But you must have a family to get back to.”

“I have a young daughter in England, who is doubtlessly profiting handsomely from my pension,” said Trent. He ignored the pang he always felt when speaking of Agatha, who must have nearly no memory of him given all the time he had spent away from her at sea. “It may in fact be in her best interests for the Royal Navy to continue to think of me as dead.” He glanced at Ted, who seemed deep in thought. “Do you have any children?”

“I got a son back in Kansas,” admitted Ted. “But I, ah. I left him to go to sea.”

“Ah,��� said Trent.

“Anyway,” Ted went on, collecting himself, “I’m real glad, actually, to hear you’ll be sticking around for the next part of the plan.”

“What plan?” said Trent narrowly.

“Rebecca’s idea, really. You’ll be pleased to hear we’ll be leaving the raiding behind, since, like you've said, we ain't so great at it. Next, we’ll be taking Nassau.”

“Nassau,” repeated Trent. “The port run by her husband, the Royal Governor of the Bahamas, that Nassau.”

“Yep,” said Ted. “Rebecca sees it as, let’s just say, a Nassau-sary course of action.”

“You’re a fucking lunatic,” said Trent. “I absolutely hate it.”

Ted beamed. “No you don’t.”

“I do,” lied Trent. “But tell me more.”

(For the AU prompt game. Enormous thanks to @nandalorian for contributing Beard's first line. Also tagging @ted-lasso-au-gust in case it counts)

[awkward-fallen-angel]

I'm of the mind Stede and Ed are going to be separated for most of this season.

And during this Izzy is going to catch wind that Stede Bonnet died by being crushed by a piano, but he isn't going to tell Ed, not at first.

No he's going to keep that information in his back pocket for when Ed starts to collect himself and show signs of being himself again.

Izzy may even find out that Stede isn't actually dead, and that's he's been trying to find Ed, so he'll get the obituary for proof. He wants to keep them apart.

And that's when he'll tell Ed.

Cue Ed hitting rock bottom. He not only sinks deeper into the Kraken persona, to disassociate from his pain even more, but he starts to get sloppy.

He comes up with suicidal mission to raid a heavily fortified military out post.

Instead of taking the weeks of planning he usually would for something this dangerous he wants to do it right away.

Anyone who doesn't participate will be killed.

During their stop get get supplies, the crew runs into Fang, who promptly tells them everything after finding out Stede is alive, and they set up a plan to intervene.

Izzy over hears, gets back to the ship, tells Ed that he shot Fang dead for trying to run away.

Ed believes him and they set sail before Fang gets back to enact the plan.

The rest of the crew rushes back to Stede and tell him what happened and where they're going.

Stede immediately has them take chase.

As the Revenge starts to make it's way towards the military out post it begins to rain. Visibility is poor. Even Izzy starts to get nervous, but Ed is refusing to stop.

Stede orders everyone to dump everything off the ship, even the cannons. They must become as light as possible to gain speed.

Waste Time Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol starts playing

We cut back and forth between both ships as Stede gets closer to the Revenge and the Revenge gets closer to the outpost.

Both Captains are very determined.

Buttons calls out to Stede that they won't make it in time and that the Revenge is too close to crossing into the port of the out post.

Both ships will be targeted by military fire if they go any further. They only have one canon left with just enough gun powder for one shot, but no cannon balls. They'd be goners.

Cut to them loading the Canon with random things that didn't get thrown off the ship.

They aim the cannon at the Revenge. If they can't get to it maybe they can get it's attention.

They light the fuse and fire. A spew of random items fly out from the side of the boat, they aren't close enough to hit the Revenge, but the noise breaks through the rain and does get Edwards attention.

Looking through a spy glass Ed sees Stede for the first time in months.

He is waving from the bow of his ship.

Ed immediately breaks down.

Frenchie and Jim start to turn the ship around.

Izzy tries to stop them. Jim threatens to slice his throat where he stands.

Both ships sail towards each other. It is still raining.

Waste Time Chasing Cars by Snow Patrol is still playing

Stede boards the Revenge.

Goes straight for Ed but he is emotionally overwhelming. Ed draws his sword and keeps his distance.

Ed asks Stede why he is just showing up now.

Stede explains he has been looking for him the whole time.

Ed asks why he never showed up at the dock.

Stede explains what happened and he thought it was what was best for both of them.

Ed tells him that wasn't his decision to make.

Stede steps closer. Ed holds up his sword.

Stede tries to apologize.

Ed won't listen, saying he had given up everything for him. He continues to use his sword as a buffer.

Stede continues his apology inching closer and closer.

The tip of Eds sword touches Stedes stomach.

"I gave everything up for you."

Stede says he knows, and it just took him a little longer to do the same. "I gave it all up, the money the land, I can't even pay my crew a wage now."

Ed seems to let his guard down slightly.

"I'm sorry I'm late."

In one move Stede closes the distance between himself and Ed, running himself through on Ed's sword as he hugs him.

Ed surprised and panicked let's go of his sword.

Stede winces in pain.

"Why did you do that?"

"You wouldn't let me near you." Stede winces a little but smiles "i made sure to miss all the important bits."

They kiss.

....

And that's basically the season finale probably.

[rainbow-femme]

I want to talk about episode 5 and how it’s the perfect bridge between the end of 4 when Ed reveals the plan to kill Stede, and episode 6 when he’s decided he doesn’t really want to

Because 5 is the only episode where Ed acts like Blackbeard to Stede and around him. He’s repeatedly rude and mean to him and just generally violent around him. And every time he does it Stede meets him with kindness

When Stede is “raiding” the library and Ed tells him to stop and knocks the books out of his and Lucius’ hands, then right after Stede is teaching him how to dine and being patient as he learns

The captain then insults Ed and Ed yells at him and Stede tells him not to debase himself by talking to the man, insinuating Ed as a pirate captain is above the merchant captain

Ed then tells Fang to skin and kill the captain, which clearly freaks Stede out because hey he’s now living on a ship with a guy who after one misstep will have that done to you, but when Ed is still upset about the insults Stede gently asks what’s wrong and tries to help

At the party, Ed realizes he can get the other rich people to like him more by insulting Stede (notably he never does this again, even when in front of people like Jack he’s trying to look cool to he’ll stand up for Stede and not make fun of him) but at the party he immediately jumps onto insulting Stede for his own benefit so Stede goes to sit outside while he gets the benefit of purposely humiliating him. Then the rich people turn on Ed and he runs out of the room and Stede immediately comforts him, uses his Dad Voice to get Ed not to kill them, then he ruins the lives of everyone in that room to the point they set their own ship on fire to get back at them for what they did

And then again on deck Stede tells him despite his missteps at the party and his upbringing that he “wears fine things well” aka is still a respectable gentleman in his eyes and instead of judging the silk Ed carries he treats it with respect and incorporates it into Ed’s outfit, all of which had been bought by an actual wealthy gentleman, showing that Ed and that world could coincide and weren’t incompatible

After this in 6 and on Ed stops doing a lot of his Blackbeard persona and beyond occasional impatient snapping like on the treasure hunt he’s always nice to Stede and sticks up for him because Stede saw him as his as rude and cruel and violent self and still treated him with kindness and respect and didn’t see him as a monster

The whole reason he wanted to kill Stede in the first place is because he’s sick of being Blackbeard but after 5 he realizes he doesn’t have to be Blackbeard, or the Blackbeard he was, and he can relax out of that persona and still feel safe and be treated with respect

[abihasablog]

Working Method part 2

Part one

More tickles, more feelings, more idiots in love.

OFMD tickle fic, Ed/Izzy/Stede. SFW.

(There may be an NSFW follow up planned...)

--

Izzy woke up first, as usual. He stretched his arms above his head with a deep yawn, his shoulders popping with the effort. Really, he was too old to be sleeping on floors, even if it was on Stede's ridiculously soft fur rug. He looked over at his companions, still both tangled together and snoring softly. Not the loud, disgustingly wet snores Izzy was used to from his day's on Hornigold's ship, but the gentle snores that told of a good night's sleep. Sort of like the way a cat purred while asleep in the sun. Izzy watched as Ed kneaded his hand in and out of Stede's shirt while he slept and smiled to himself. Definitely like a cat. 

He pushed himself up, carefully moving Stede's arm from where it rested on his chest and laying it gently across Ed's arm. His knees cracked as he stood, using the arm of the sofa as leverage. Yeah, much too old for the floor. 

He padded across the room to the door and slipped out quietly, making his way to the galley where Roach was in the midst of experimenting with the honey that he'd uncovered from raiding a French merchant vessel. The chef looked up when he entered, eyeing Izzy's state of undress but not commenting, which Izzy found himself grateful for. 

"Captain's will be wanting tea with milk and sugar, if you wouldn’t mind," Izzy said. He was working his way up to 'please', at least as far as Stede was concerned. He was much less of an asshole than he was when they started their relationship those months back (at least according to Ed) but he couldn't quite let go of his intimidating pirate schtick. Pirates didn't say please.

"And for yourself, Mr Hands?" Roach pulled a teapot from seemingly nowhere. "Coffee?"

"Please," Izzy said. Okay, maybe Stede was rubbing off on him more than he thought. Izzy coughed - now that was an image. 

"Five minutes. You wait there, can't leave this." Roach turned away to heat fresh water over the fire. Izzy bit back a scathing reply, instead moving to see what Roach was making. 

"What's this gonna be?" He asked, looking over the mess of ingredients. Roach shrugged.

"I'm thinking cheese and honey tartlets, or maybe some honeycomb sweets."

"Maybe both? You certainly snatched enough of the stuff to last a while." There had to be at least fifty jars of the stuff shoved against the back wall. 

"Eh. Too much of the sweet stuff makes Captain Bonnet twitchy. And I gotta allocate some jars for Buttons," Roach sighed. "He uses it for moonbathing. It's a whole thing."

"Right," Izzy said, not willing to question Buttons' logic lest word get back to him and he found himself hexed. "Have you tried honey roasted carrots before?"

Roach perked up as he filled a bowl with sugar cubes. "They any good?"

"Bit sweet for me. Had em at one of the nicer ports in Barbados a few years ago, Edward liked them so much he wouldn't shut the fuck up about them for weeks after."

"Huh. Honey roasted carrots…" Roach poured milk into a ceramic jug. "I'll give that a go for their meal tonight. You gonna be there too?"

"Yeah," Izzy scratched at his stubble. 

"Normal carrots for Mr Not-A-Sweetooth, then."

"Much obliged, Chef."

Izzy left the gallery with a tray of tea and coffee, plus a plate of shortbread that Roach had slipped him for his 'good behaviour'. Izzy wondered when he decided maiming the crew wasn't worth it anymore. 

He pushed the door handle of their room down with his elbow, entering the room to see Ed and Stede still both fast asleep. Stede had rolled over into the warm spot where Izzy had been, with Ed clutching at his shirt hem. He kicked the door shut softly behind him and moved to set the tray down on the table. Ed jolted awake at the noise, sitting up and groggily rubbing his eyes. He looked up at Izzy, an imprint of the fur rug on his cheek. 

"Morning," he said, voice laced heavily with sleep.

"Afternoon," Izzy countered. He poured a mug of coffee for himself. "Come get tea."

"Hmm," Ed grumbled, turning to face Stede. He leant in and pressed a kiss to his neck. "Wakey wakey, Captain." 

"Wazzat?" Stede jumped, eyes still closed. "Under attack?" 

"Only by me if you don't get up. If you don't sleep properly tonight I'll never get any fucking peace," Izzy grinned as Stede sat up abruptly. 

"Well! I would never- Do I smell shortbread?" 

"Sure do," Izzy picked one up and waved it in Stede's direction. Ed was at the table immediately, snatching two biscuits, shoving one in his mouth before setting about making tea. 

"Fuck me, those are good!" Ed groaned. "Honestly, if I wasn't in a committed relationship with you two I would absolutely fuck Roach's cooking."

"I would understand," Izzy said. Stede appeared next to him, taking a cup for himself. 

"Thank you for getting this, Izzy," Stede smiled softly, not quite awake, and flopped back into a chair. Izzy and Ed joined him, each sipping quietly on their drinks and working their way through the biscuits pile. When they were all fed and watered, Ed leant forward and regarded Izzy with a sly grin. 

"So. Izzy." 

"Nope, you first."

"Come on!" 

"I got the drinks, you get to be the tickle bitch first." 

"But I'm the Captain, I decide who goes first."

"I could go first," Stede added shyly, blushing when his partners turned to look at him. "I mean, if it's not too much bother, of course you don't have to-"

"Shut up," Izzy interrupted his spiral. 

"You're so fucking cute Stede, honestly I might just die," Ed said with awe. "I think we can do that, right Iz?"

"Absolutely. I think foot tickles were promised, yes?" 

Stede went scarlet, subconsciously bringing his feet under his chair. 

"Right. May I suggest the bed this time?" Ed prompted. He and Izzy stood, Stede moving a beat behind. He was already twitching in nervous anticipation. 

Ed perched himself at the end of the bed and gestured for Stede to sit in front of him. The blonde did as he was told wordlessly, too giddy with anticipation to speak. He sat back on the bed, allowing Ed to take his left foot and place it in his lap. Izzy mirrored the position with his right. 

"What do you say if you genuinely need to stop?" Izzy asked. Stede watched their hands nervously. 

"Mercy," he answered, and Izzy nodded approvingly.

"Right. Let's find out how ticklish these are, shall we?" Ed grinned, letting his nails trace the length of Stede's sole. The reaction they got was a full body shudder and a string of breathy giggles that made Izzy's heart jump. The first mate took a slightly different approach, stroking his index finger across Stede's toes. 

"Fuck!" Stede fell backwards, hands covering his burning face and muffling his laughter. 

"Let us look at you Stede, or else I'll bind your hands to the bed posts," Ed emphasised his threat with a quick scribble of his fingers, and Stede's whole body twitched as he moved to obey, hands instead curling in the blankets.

"Ed -aha- Izzy please!" 

"Please what? Please tickle you more?" Izzy teased. 

“No teasing!” Stede pleaded, tugging his legs back, only to have them snatched straight back and held in vice like grips. 

“No teasing, he says,” Ed said, focusing on the arch of Stede’s foot. “Whyever not, love? Does it make it worse?” 

“Yehehehehes!” Stede felt slightly like he was going to combust. The tickling he had endured before had been ticklish, yes, but it had been fairly fast paced so Stede hadn’t had the chance to get caught in his head. Now, Ed and Izzy were taking their time, fingers moving slowly, eyes watching him closely for every little reaction. He wasn’t used to the attention being solely on his body and it was making his insides twist. “Ehehehehed!”

“Yeeeees?” 

“D-dohohon’t!” 

“Don’t what, love?” 

“Look at mehehehe!”

“Don’t look at you?” Ed frowned slightly, fingers slowing along with Izzy’s. “Why not, love?” 

“Just…” Stede steeled his nerves. He was always firm about his crew sharing feelings, and he ought to hold himself to the same standard. “It’s a lot! With you both looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” Izzy prompted, hands curling around Stede’s foot and massaging the sole with his thumbs. Stede thought for a moment of the right way to express himself, and was so grateful to his partners for letting him take his time. 

“Well… I can’t look especially attractive right now, can I? All red faced, and all.” 

Izzy and Ed both stared at him, then at each other, with pained expressions. 

“Oh, Bonnet…” Izzy shook his head softly. “You have no idea, do you?” 

“Not a lot of the time, no,” Stede said sadly. “But what in particular at the moment?” 

“You-” Izzy cleared his throat. That meant he was having disgusting feelings, as the first mate put it. “You’re lying here with us, rosy cheeks and a laugh that makes me feel ten years fucking younger, and you have the absolute audacity to call yourself unattractive? Silly twat.”

“Stede, you gorgeous little nut,” Ed moved up the bed to take Stede’s face between his hands and pressed a long kiss to his lips. “Every time I look at you I think ‘Woah, holy shit! I get to spend my whole day hanging out with this gorgeous man!’ And more recently I’ve started to think ‘Well fuck me, now I get to actually touch this man and hold him, kiss him, hear his laugh.’ It’s like, if being a pirate ever stopped working out for me, I could absolutely take up a career just following you around and staring at you. Thoughts on that, Iz?” 

“What he said, with fifty percent less mush and a lot fucking.” 

“You-” Stede felt his face light up with the biggest smile. “You two. One day my heart will give out with just how much I adore you both.”

“Yeah, well, not until I give it explicit permission,” Izzy shuffled forward and knocked shoulders with Ed across Stede’s chest. “I adore you both too. Sometimes.” 

“Fucking hell Iz, it’s like pulling teeth with you,” Ed grinned, wrapping his arms around his first mate and pressing a big, dramatically loud kiss against his lips. Izzy scoffed for appearance sake before kissing back with great enthusiasm. When they parted, Ed wiggled his eyebrows, and Izzy shoved him. 

“Ew.”

“Rude!”

“Keep it in your trousers, Teach,” Izzy grinned when Stede laughed from between them. “There, that’s better.” 

“Do I not get a kiss?” Stede pouted deliberately, and Izzy sighed heavily. 

“So demanding,” He bent down anyway, pressing their lips together, his hand coming up to gently cup Stede’s cheek. Stede let his eyes fall shut, melting into the very rare affection of their prickly first mate. The tenderness was cut short, however, when Izzy jumped up with a yelp. Stede’s eyes snapped open to see what had happened, and found himself laughing at the sight of Ed sitting back innocently, as Izzy wrapped his arms around his middle. “What the fuck!” 

“What?” Ed asked slyly. “I’m just sitting here, man!” 

“Ed, behave,” Stede chided, the effect mostly lost in his smile. 

“Why would I do that when being naughty is so much more fun?” Ed lifted his hands and wiggled his fingers in Izzy’s direction. “Down you go!”

Before Izzy could throw himself away from the incoming attack, Ed caught him by the shirt collar and tossed him down on the bed next to Stede. He landed with a small oof, and glared up at Ed. 

“Now what do I have here? Two ticklish pirates?” 

“Ehehed!”

“If you start fucking teasing me I’ll break your fucking kneecaps!”

“Promises, promises, my weird little darling,” Ed’s fingers descended on Izzy’s torso faster than a lightning flash, and Izzy actually squealed. His hands wrapped around Ed’s wrists and gave a weak attempt at pulling them away, before seemingly deciding it was pointless and reaching for Stede instead. He twisted as best as he could in his position, laughing giddily as he buried his face in his other Captain’s shoulder. 

“Oof, good shout. Don’t want poor Stede feeling left out, do we?” Ed walked two fingers on his right hand across Izzy’s belly to Stede, who instinctively shoved the hand away with a shriek and tried to bury himself under Izzy. “Now where are you going?” 

“Fuhuhuck off!” Izzy yelped, though it was not entirely clear who it was aimed at. 

With one hand on each of them, Ed dug his fingers in, roaming around their middles and focusing on their worst - or best - spots. Fuck, he wished Lucius was here to sketch this. Ed tickled up their sides, laughing as they burrowed into each other to try and escape his merciless fingers. 

“Tell me Izzy, do you think this one’s learnt his lesson about self deprecation?” Ed pulled away from Izzy a moment, using both hands to tickle at Stede’s ribs. 

“Fucking well hope so,” Izzy panted, scrubbing his hands over his grinning face. He tilted his head to where Stede was trying to fold in on himself, eyes squeezed shut through his sweet laughter. “Can’t cope with all these pissing emotions.” 

“I have! I promise!” Stede shrieked as Ed’s fingers slid down to his thighs, pressing his fingertips into the soft skin. 

“Tell us you’re beautiful, then maybe I’ll be nice. Maybe.” 

“Izzy hehehehehelp!” 

“Help yourself Bonnet," Izzy said, slightly breathless. "I'm dead." 

"C'mon love, you can do it," Ed's fingers vibrated hard at his inner thighs, shifting them down to curl around the backs. 

"OKAHAHAY! I'M BEAUTIFUL!" Stede shrieked, hands flying to cover his face. "MEHEHEHERCY!"

It stopped immediately, as he knew it would.  Ed flopped down on top of him to press kisses to his mouth and cheeks. 

“There’s a good boy,” Ed grinned. Stede shoved weakly at him, not really meaning it. 

“Bastard,” Stede whined through his leftover giggling. 

“Bit of a bastard, yeah,” Ed kissed the tip of Stede’s nose fondly. He then turned to Izzy, eyebrows raised. 

“You can fuck right off!” Izzy started to push himself back up the bed but Ed jumped on top of him before he could, pinning him firmly down. “If you make me say anything nice about myself I will mutiny!”

“No you woooon’t…” Ed wiggled his fingers in the air above Izzy’s ribs. 

“Maybe not from the ship, but I’ll mutiny you from this bed, make you bunk with Jim!” 

“I’d be honoured to bunk with Jim,” Ed cocked his head with a smug grin. “But I see your point. No talking nice about yourself, pirate’s honour.”

“Pirate’s have no honour!” Izzy clamped a hand over his mouth as Ed’s fingertips snuck under his shirt and found the soft skin of his belly. 

“That pirate there does-” Ed tilted his head to where Stede lay, looking like he’d gone three rounds with an angry bull, “-and I’d put cold hard coins on him taking your side, right love?”

“Correct,” Stede reached out and patted Izzy’s cheek absently. Izzy squirmed away, scrunching his face to try and stop the giggles trying to erupt from his chest as Ed’s hands picked up speed, spidering across his belly. 

“Oh, Izzy… you look so sweet when you’re trying not to laugh,” Izzy’s eyes flew open in the panic of a man who had heard those words before. “You look good enough to eat.”

“Nonononono!” Izzy’s hands flew to his shirt to pull it down but Ed moved faster, grabbing his wrists and pinning them to the bed. 

“In fact, I think I might just do that!” Ed took a deep breath and bent down before blowing a raspberry just below his navel. The dam broke as Izzy could no longer hold back his laughter, trying his best to curl into Stede for protection but finding himself properly pinned. 

“EHEHEHED!” 

“Yeeees, dear?” 

“NOT THERE!” 

“Not here?” Ed lifted away and instead brought his hands up to latch on to Izzy’s ribs. “What about here?” 

“Nahahahat thehehehere either!” 

“Well aren’t we fussy today?” Ed tutted. “If not here then where would my dear first mate like to be tickled?” “Ahahaha I don’t knohohohow!” Izzy squealed frantically, legs scrambling on the bed for friction. “Dohohohn’t mahake me choose!”

“Oh, you poor thing, you can hardly take it! Must tickle really bad, huh?” 

“Yehehehehes! Stahahahap you asshole!” Izzy clamped his arms to his sides as Ed tickled at his armpits, trapping them. “Nonononono fuck OFF!”

“Not sure you’re in much of a position to be telling anyone to fuck off,” Ed snickered. He dipped his head to nuzzle against Izzy’s neck, upping the volume of his laughter at the ticklish feel of his beard. 

“ED!” Izzy was caught between keeping his hands by his sides and bringing them up to shove Ed’s face away. Stede chuckled from his place next to Izzy, seemingly revived from his own torture. 

“You’re just one big tickle spot, aren’t you?” Ed spoke against his neck, before blowing a raspberry right below his ear. Izzy shrieked at the sudden onslaught and kicked out at nothing, hands tangling in Ed's hair and tugging.

"PLEHEHEHEASE MEHEHEHERCY!" 

Ed relented, pressing a kiss to Izzy's neck before pulling away and flopping down in the space between his loves, tugging the smaller man into a cuddle. Izzy's panting breath was hot against his neck as he shivered with leftover giggles.

"Darling, I think you may have killed him," Stede chuckled, throwing an arm and a leg over Ed. He gently wiped a stray tear from Izzy's face with the pad of his thumb. Izzy caught his hand in his own with a breathy laugh. 

“Fucking bastard… practically begging for it, don’t you think so?” 

Ed twitched between them. 

“Oh, I would say a little revenge is in order. Ed?” 

“Uhm,” Ed swallowed hard and wiggled as he realised he had an arm trapped underneath both of his loves. “Won’t work. Not ticklish.”

“That’s the biggest load of horse shit I’ve ever heard.” 

“I don’t know, Izzy. If Ed says he isn’t ticklish then I believe him…” Stede smiled innocently at Ed when his head snapped towards him. “Because surely a man who attacks his dear partners unprovoked would have to be not ticklish - because the revenge served by said dear partners would be merciless. If he was ticklish, that is.”

“Fucking hell,” Ed muttered as his face went dark pink. Izzy offered Stede a sly grin of approval.

“Very true, very true. But just to be sure-” Izzy lent so all his weight rested on Ed’s arm and wedged his fingers in the hollow of his armpit, tickling the spot relentlessly. Stede mirrored him perfectly, the polite menace that he was, and Ed squealed a laugh so fucking sweet that it made Bonnet coo. “Oof, lying were we?” 

“Nononono!” Ed tugged at his arms to try and free himself but found himself well and truly stuck. Izzy’s grin was feral as he brought his free hand up to meet Stede’s, taking over the torment as the Gentleman Pirates' own hands dipped to curl against Ed’s belly. Izzy watched in slightly morbid fascination as Stede worked out every little spot that made Ed squeal, picking up on his tells and what worked best in minutes. It had taken Izzy years to map out all the spots that made Ed all squirmy and flustered, and the first mate made a mental note to never, ever provoke Stede into tickling him. He would just die on the spot. 

Ed shrieked and thrashed, eyes squeezed shut and the most carefree look of joy on his face that quickly spread to Izzy and Stede.

“What ever is the matter, darling? I thought you weren’t ticklish?” Stede teased making Ed give a little whine through his laughter. “I vaguely remember you mentioning earlier, Izzy, about how ticklish Ed’s feet were?” 

Izzy’s face lit up with his feral grin, watching Ed’s feet flex in eager anticipation. 

“Drives him mad,” Izzy said casually, hands moving to scratch gently across his biceps. He’d need his breath. “Here’s a secret for you, Stede. Ed fucking loves his feet tickled.” 

“Izzy!” Ed squealed, face turning beat red in embarrassment, but Izzy shushed him with a kiss. 

“Nothing to be ashamed of, mate,” Izzy’s bad imitation of Ed’s accent made them all laugh. 

“Quite right, darling!” Stede shuffled down the bed. “On your front please, love.” 

Ed did as he was told, careful to not seem too eager, and buried his face in the covers. The soles of his feet now facing up, Stede began to lightly trace his fingers across the skin. Ed jerked with a giggle, but otherwise remained still. Stede and Izzy shared a wicked smile. 

“Told you,” Izzy said. He let his hands drift softly across the expanse of Ed’s naked back, tracing soft patterns that made Ed sigh. “Lazy bugger used to fall asleep with his feet in my lap.”

“Izzy,” Ed grumbled into the blankets, the tips of his ears pink. 

“Oh, how sweet!” Stede exclaimed. 

“S’not sweet,” came Ed’s muffled reply. 

“It’s sweet if we say it is,” Stede suddenly scribbled his fingers up and down Ed’s soles, making him buck like a fish out of water. He frantically clutched at the blankets and squealed, unable to pull away as Stede’s weight held his legs down. Not that he really wanted to.

“There he is,” Izzy dipped his head to press a kiss to Ed’s cheek. 

“Fuck off!” Came the half assed reply. 

“Oh now darling, that isn’t very polite!” Stede’s fingers sped up, drawing a deep belly laugh from Ed. “You ought to apologise to Izzy.” 

“No!” Ed shrieked as Stede found a particularly sensitive spot below his toes. 

“C’mon Ed, apologise…” Stede’s eyes lit up with a sudden stroke of genius. “Or I’ll stop.” 

“Holy shit,” Izzy whispered as Ed tensed up. “You fucking rich types are sadistic, you know?”

“I’ve been made aware, yes,” Stede nodded. His fingers left Ed completely. “I’ll wait.” 

Ed whined pathetically between them, wiggling his toes and huffing, turning to look pleadingly at Izzy.

“Iz…” he sounded like someone had just broken his favourite toy. “Sorry, love. Don’t actually fuck off.” 

“Promise,” Izzy tugged Ed’s limp body to rest on his chest, huffing as he wrapped around him like an octopus. 

"There's a good lad!" Stede praised jovially. He wordlessly resumed his attack on Ed's feet, making him jump out of his skin and hold on tighter to Izzy's waist. "You just tell me when it's too much, my darling."

Ed allowed it for as long as he could, muffling his laughter against Izzy and using all of his willpower to not kick Stede directly in the face. Stede and Izzy shared a long, fond smile. 

“He’s gonna sleep for fucking hours now, you realise? He’ll be unbearable tonight.” 

“Oh, well, I suppose we’ll just have to tickle him again to wear him out?” Stede offered with a cheeky grin that Izzy mirrored blissfully. 

“Maybe I’ll be unbearable, too,” Izzy cocked his head to the side, knowing Stede would meet his challenge with gusto. 

“Will you now? Well, we can't have that. You’d both be keeping me up then.” 

“Tired Stede is a grumpy Stede,” Ed’s voice came from amidst the fabric of Izzy’s wrinkled shirt. 

“So true!” Izzy scratched his hand along Ed’s scalp. “We can’t have this ship run by a grumpy co-captain. His first mate would definitely have something to say about that.” 

“How awful for me,” Stede’s cheeks tinged pink as he smiled, shifting under Izzy’s heavy gaze. “It is for the greater good, though. So I shall grin and bear it.” 

“Grinning, laughing, screaming, it’s all on the cards,” Izzy shrugged. Ed, clearly listening hard to their every word, seemed slightly more affected than he had been moments prior. His body jerked up from the bed and his laughter became more pitched/ 

“Mercy, mercy mercy mercy!” 

Stede stopped on the first syllable, instead rubbing his palms firmly up and down Ed’s soles to chase away lingering tingles. Izzy tugged Ed up so his face rested against his neck, rocking him slightly as he gasped to regain his breath. 

“Oh my fucking God, you two - the fucking mouths on you both-”

“I don’t know what you mean, darling!” Stede pressed a kiss to each of Ed’s ankles before crawling up to his partners, dragging the rumbled blanket up with him and tucking it around the three of them. “How are we all feeling?” 

“Thoroughly fucking dead,” Ed’s breath was hot against Izzy’s neck. “Gonna sleep for a week now, guess I’m gonna have to fuck up the sleep schedule. Truly, truly tragic.”

“I look forward to being woken up by you being a brat,” Izzy grumbled against Ed’s hair who snickered at him in return. 

“You’re the brat, brat.” 

“Alright, Captain Giggles.” 

“Wha- Stede, did you hear what he called me?!” 

“Yes love,” Stede pressed several quick kisses to Ed’s neck, making him giggle and push back against him. “See? Captain Giggles.” 

Ed pouted and fussed a moment, wriggling further into the pillow and firmly nesting himself between his partners. 

“First mate Izzy Tickle-Hands,” he spoke after a minute. Izzy groaned and pushed Ed’s forehead away, moving as if to flee the scene before Ed’s own tickle-hands dragged him back into their blanket cocoon. 

It seemed the evening ended, as all good things do, with a bad pun. 

[cononeillbreastingboobily]

This was supposed to be a short little "Izzy Hands joins the polycule" thing.

It got ENTIRELY out of hand.

Stede reconnects with his crew. The dingy is way too small for all of them, so they stay put. They send out a message in a bottle, which by some miracle lands at the feet of just the right man - one of the husbands of Spanish Jackie of all people. She picks up the distress signal and, taking one of her ships, sails to the designated location.

"Stede fucking Bonnet?!" she says when she sees the man, beaming at her despite the unbearable heat.

She looks over at the rest of the crew. They're in an even worse shape than he. She lets all of them board the ship.

"You owe me" she says to Stede, as he passed her, boarding her ship.

He nods.

She sails with them back to Nassau, gives them food and shelter for the night. Meanwhile Stede explains the situation. He needs a ship and weapons for himself and his crew, and fast. He says he wants to reconnect with Ed.

"Ed? Who's Ed?"

"Erm, Blackbeard"

She freezes. Blackbeard has been on a killing streak for the past few days, raiding ships left and right, and killing everyone onboard.

It was not good for business.

And in turn - it was not good for Jackie.

"Alright." she agrees finally. "I'll give you a ship. Weapons too. But you owe me, understand?"

"Of course, I'll do anything you want" Stede says earnestly.

Jackie sighs.

"Just... Just make him stop, okay?"

"I'll do what I can" he replies with a hopeful gleam in his eyes.

So they set out to find the Revenge. It's not hard to do - the flag with the addition of a bleeding heart catches Stede's eye from a distance.

On the way there his crew tell him what has been happening with Ed ever since they parted. It did not look good.

And Stede was surprised. He expected Ed to be disappointed - not the first time he disappointed someone, and certainly not the last - but to go to such extremes?

They came near the Revenge. It was time.

"Who goes there?" asked the croaking voice of Izzy Hands.

Stede hesitated. Oluwande very rightly pointed out to him soon after they reunited and caught up with each other, that now that Stede is technically dead, he will need a new alias. Stede considered that. Spent a few days on it, even.

And when the moment came, he knew exactly what to say.

"Captain Edwards sends his regards!" Stede replied, his voice less sing-songy than before.

"What the fuck?" said Izzy under his breath.

Stede looked over to Olu, who nodded in reply.

"Onboard!" screamed Stede, and they threw themselves in the direction of the Revenge.

Stede immediately busied himself with Izzy, while his old crew members reconnected. It sent Izzy's plan of taking over Stede's ship flying out of the window. Olu and Jim were already in a tight embrace, as we're Frenchie and Wee John. The rest of the crew was jumping around and dancing from the joy of seeing each other again.

"Stede fucking Bonnet?" said Izzy. "What the fuck are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be dead?"

Stede smirked.

"Well... The rumours of my death were... Greatly exaggerated."

"Well isn't that fucking fantastic"

Stede ignored him and looked around.

"Where's Ed?"

"Oh, wouldn't you like to know"

Stede looked at Izzy. With one, surprisingly swift movement, he stabbed the man on his left side, pinning him to the mast. Izzy sucked in a breath.

"I asked you a question, Izzy. Now... Where. Is. Ed?" Stede said, something scary in his eyes.

Izzy gave in.

"In the captain quarters"

"Thank you" Stede replied, removing his sword from the mast and Izzy's left side.

He immediately turned in the direction of the captain quarters.

It was a mess. Empty bottles were laying on every possible surface. By the window sat Ed, but he looked different. Clad entirely in black, but this time his hair was straight, and his face - painted with black greasepaint.

He was not happy to see Stede.

Although Stede wanted to do some version of "honey, I'm home!", it did not work like that with Ed. First he was terrified, thinking he saw a ghost. Then, when he realised Stede was in fact real, he grabbed a sword of his own and charged at Stede.

"You piece of shit! You left me! How could you, how could you?!"

Ed screamed through tears while Stede could only dodge his attacks and try to explain himself. However, they were not going anywhere like this. Stede was walking back defending himself, when he eventually felt a wall behind his back.

Ed came closer, and struck, giving Stede only a moment to turn.

The blade pierced his flesh.

Stede winced. The left side. He missed all the important bits.

He looked up at Ed. There were tears streaming down his face, disturbing the greasepaint.

"You... You left me"

Stede winced again.

"Ed... Please, please let me explain everything."

For a millisecond it seemed like Ed's expression faltered. Then it hardened back again.

"Ed is not there anymore. I am the Kraken."

He removed the blade, nowhere near carefully or gently. Then, without a word, he stormed off in the direction of the auxiliary wardrobe.

Stede almost fell to his knees from the pain, but braved his way through it. He slowly exited the captain quarters, with his entire crew staring back at him.

"And? How did it go?" asked Olu.

"Not great" replied Stede, placing a hand over his fresh wound. A little bit of blood appeared between his fingers.

Several people gasped. Roach offered to stitch him up. Stede said he was okay, thought he did consider taking Roach up on his offer later.

Stede found Izzy, who was licking his wounds in the corner.

"We will be staying on this ship. I will be staying together with my crew" announced Stede firmly.

Izzy laughed a disgusting, dry laugh.

"What are you even staying here for? Give up! He's not going to forgive you".

Stede clenched his teeth.

"We'll see about that".

And so they all stayed of the Revenge. The ship was finally bursting with life again, after few very grim days.

Every day, Stede and Ed fight on the deck. Some days one walks away injured, some days - the other. But neither wants to give up.

Neither wants to kill the other either, despite what both Ed and Izzy might think. A part of Ed is still there, loving Stede so desperately he'd want nothing more than to throw himself into the arms of the man he loves.

But heartbreak proves stronger for now.

Days go by like this, and the crew gets somewhat used to it. They busy themselves with arts and crafts, card games, sex and storytime. Also disrespecting Izzy. That one is always fun.

In the meantime one scribe goes through quite the misadventure.

After being thrown overboard, Lucius tried swimming for a while. He got picked up by a Spanish ship filled with handsome sailors. They filled him with tapas and rumours from the high seas.

It doesn't surprise him to hear that Ed Blackbeard set off on a murderous rampage. The man has been going through something ever since he came back on the Revenge, even though Lucius never quite found out what happened.

But then, he also found out something that filled him with terror.

Stede was dead. His beloved, stupid, awfully inexperienced captain was dead.

He had to act quickly. He had to reconnect with his crew, right now!

They let him have a dingy and some food, and he set off to search for the Revenge. After a few days he found the ship - and good, because he just ran out of provisions.

He stood in the dinghy in order to grab someone's attention. He shouted and waved, and eventually Frenchie saw him.

"Hey, look! It's Lucius!"

Everyone threw themselves to see for themselves. There he was! He was now jumping with excitement.

And now, he tripped and fell into the water.

Black Pete threw himself into the ocean to get his lover. Everyone back on the ship was cheering for him to get both of them back safely.

Everyone, but Izzy Hands.

There was something stirring in his chest. Something painful, warm and unfamiliar.

He missed that little shit. He missed his annoying voice and shit-eating grin, his stupid sass and how he somehow always knew which ones of Izzy's buttons to push.

He thought he lost him for good after Blackbeard threw him overboard. He almost didn't forgive him that. But alas, the joy of having Blackbeard back overshadowed everything.

Well, not anymore.

Because now he was afraid he was going to lose him again.

Black Pete threw himself and the unconscious Lucius on the little cleaning chair, and Izzy, together with Fang hoisted up the ropes. After a while they were back on deck, Black Pete heaving with exhaustion.

But Lucius... He wasn't breathing. Izzy checked. There was no heartbeat either.

Then, everyone held their own breaths.

Black Pete panicked. He leaned over Lucius, and tried pushing his hands into the boy's chest.

Didn't work.

Then he tried mouth to mouth.

Again, nothing.

The atmosphere on the deck became even more tense. Stede has already stepped closer, and even Ed was out of his quarters. Seeing Lucius, he froze in a mixture of terror and guilt.

Black Pete meanwhile was doing the whole thing again. Mouth to mouth, pressing hands into Lucius' chest. In the meantime, both Izzy and Fang drew the closest to Lucius aside from Pete, and each was holding one of the boy's hands, while Black Pete was trying to save him.

Eventually, something clicked. Lucius started coughing up terribly, throwing up sea water everywhere.

Everyone exhaled.

The biggest breathes of relief were taken by Black Pete and Fang.

And, to his own surprise - also Izzy Hands.

[couriersiccs]

some more Rambly Gay Pirate Show Posting: after finishing the finale and starting the pilot again, it’s wonderful mirror-structure in some key moments, because a lot ties this whole thing together. and im not just talking abt the pan-up the mast to the final shot of each episode, the Flag(s) of The Revenge

stede’s crew originally wants to mutiny him because they believed he was soft, and weak for being soft. this is precisely the fear that izzy is reinforcing by renouncing loyalty to a softer blackbeard than the one (blackbeard WITH a beard, in many senses) he wanted to believe was ed’s true self. (it wasn’t, it was the trauma, since he clearly hasn’t even recognized his own as Worth Taking Seriously.)

and the part that reinforces ED’S decision to regress character was, as pointed out on a different post on here somewhere (sorry maybe reblog or reply with the post if u got it on hand) was the feeling of being laughed at, such as he experienced as Jeff the Accountant (who we know is a completely fake personality and identity and follows the same blueprints that Ed used to create Blackbeard the Pirate). And when he begins to question if his new (read: Stede’s old) crew aren’t actually laughing behind his back as a joke in a way he couldn’t yet see happening, like with the aristocrats, he decides they gotta go. as the same post i think mentions, this is exactly the decision that Stede makes when Nigel laughs at and rejects the reality of who Stede just said he is, based on that weakness being perceived as hilarious incongruent with Being A Pirate. This has always just been Known - Pirates Were Brutal and Straight Men.

Stede is out there precisely because he wants to change that being the norm, because he believes a softer approach to pirating in regards to your crewmates, victims, and prisoners - other people you find, you try talking first. straight up preparing to raid a ship sent stede into a spiral with the crushing realization that he was very uncomfortable doing this. this was stede doubting himself, or realizing he couldn’t actually lead with an iron fist. he wasn’t tougher, he was soft, this was not going to end well.

and by sheer providence, his soft appearance in his “Battle Robe” is what stopped the english from actually starting (and swiftly finishing) that battle. stede’s femininity was the only reason why an English Captain bothered to look at the deck before open firing and the “heavyset woman” turned out to be a guy he used to bully as a kid. because of the social connection two people shared (however traumatic, it meant they knew each other enough to have to act like old friends on the surface.) on his own ship, stede’s crew only had to fight the small number of guards that came when Nigel underestimated Stede so much that he insisted on coming aboard. They took two hostages and killed like two others or something in order to kill the captain of an English Warship - ALL INSTEAD of going to battle with a naval warship and 100% absolutely losing in a ‘fair fight’ typical of war.

it wouldn’t have happened if stede hadn’t been exactly who he is.

it was the perfect Fuckery that could never had been a Planned Fuckery, and it only happened because of Stede doing what Ed had first found admirable in him - being himself instead of following Patriarchal Norms, bringing some originality to the table. no one is doing it like he is, that’s the only thing sure as fuck about his piracy methods. but maybe this is just the thing that will make piracy a better profession. things just working out like that as a real effect of People-Positive Management Style might make it more popular, if Pirate Captain Culture could just get over Not Embodying Toxic Masculinity a little bit (as we see evidenced by two other pirate captains who Keep Getting Mutinied For Some Reason).

[candied-cae]

It had been a blisteringly bright day and as the sun began to sink into the water's edge on the horizon, the Revenge was turning around a series of massive rocks. The plan was to take a scenic route back to the Republic of Pirates and pick up the left-behind members of the crew and the other ship. They'd been spending the last few weeks scoring against various ships to really test how raiding on the Revenge compared before he'd be stocking it up with the rest of his leather-clad killers. That had been the plan of course. But now, as the Revenge was being rammed into by another pirate ship which seems to have been skulking around the side at just the right moment, the plan has changed slightly.

What had just been a boring, quiet day falling into a boring, quiet evening has, all at once, turned bone achingly loud. The sound erupts as the boats' sides scrap against one another and the force of the abrupt collision knocks nearly everyone on both off of their feet. As the members currently on the Revenge stand up on deck, they look to the rivaling ship to get a look at who would really dare to do such a thing to a craft waving Blackbeard's flag, intensionally or not. And when they see the passengers upon the other, they realize all too quickly just how planned it really was.

Oluwande, Pete, Wee John, Buttons, Roach, and the Swede stand opposite them, furious glares are trained on Edward. There are a few unfamiliar faces going with them as well, seems they joined with another crew and convinced them to aid in staking their revenge. Though no one spotted Stede anywhere. That is, no one spotted him until he was sweeping down from the platform on the middle mast.

He boards the Revenge in a flurry. Slipping down a rope from the assailing ship and landing steadily on his feet, just yards in front of the pirate he was searching to confront. He had his sword drawn in hand, yet did not have it aimed. There’s a beat of silence between them as they find each other's eyes. In Stede’s, there was what he’d call a fool's hope peaking through his taut expression. In Ed’s, there’s a boiling rage just under the surface screaming over any thoughts he might have of softness.

“Is there anything left of Ed in you?” Stede asks carefully, trying not to let his shred of optimism get too close to the open flame before him.

“Not one bit,” Blackbeard answers back, head just slightly cocked to the side as he pulls his own weapon from its place in his hip.

A shuttering breath escapes Stede's lungs in response. A break in his composure for just a moment as he was faced with the ugly truth. He'd longed to have been wrong, he wanted so badly for there to be a fighting chance. But it seems the stories from his men were right, he's lost his Ed. For good. He rolls back his shoulders, stands a little straighter, and steadies his resolve.

He knows what he came here to do if all hope had been gone.

”Alright." he hollowly accepts before lifting his blade, readying himself for what was about to begin," Then, for my crew you left for dead, for my Lucius you threw to the sea, for my Frenchie and Jim you stole, and for my Ed you killed, I will end it. I will not allow you to continue to hurt.”

That last line was meant for two intentions. Stede would not allow the person before him to keep hurting the people he loved. And he would also not allow Ed to continue to be hurt. If this is what it really came down to, he would wish no better end than to do it himself. Hoping beyond reason that either Ed might come back before they did something they couldn't undo or that perhaps Ed might be freed in death from all the horrors his life had wrought.

“Is that a tear?” The blackened pirate mocks as Stede’s eyes indeed glimmer with them.

He blinks them away and sets his expression again,” You’ve got a point, Blackbeard. I’ll morn Edward tomorrow. Tonight I’ll avenge him.”

And with a swiftness fueled by blinding love and burning hate, they charge together, and the ringing of their sword fight begins.

More OFMD Fics

[just-a-sketchbook]

Fang is there when Blackbeard comes back alone.

He's there to watch as grief consumes him. Well. He isn't actually there to see it, as Izzy's sealed the captain's quarters, but he's not stupid. The Captain's hurting hard enough that Izzy feels the need to hide it this time, however useless that might be. And he's been hurt before. Or maybe not hurt, exactly, but the Captain's not been well for years now, and they all know it. Blackbeard was mad well before Bonnet, and now he's just... sad?

It's a new thing, really, when “Ed” comes out. Not the song, so much, Blackbeard has never shied away from theatrics around the crew, even less so helped along by a bottle of rum. No. What's new is the softness. “Ed” doesn't think of plans, or raids, or rations, or anything, really. And it's nice, sort of, watching him emerge from the hurt, tentatively, openly even, but only sort of. Because they actually do need to plan, and raid, and possibly ration. The Revenge isn't badly stocked, but there's only so much water they can carry, and Roach isn't used to cook parsimoniously anymore. Fang knows all this, because Izzy rants, and rants, and rages, and as tiring as it gets, and as little as Fang likes to admit it, Izzy has a point. They need their Captain back.

Fang is there when Blackbeard actually comes back. He's busy making the night round, checking on the ropes and sails when he hears the splash. It's loud, too loud to be anything but a body. (Fang knows this, because he's heard more than his fair share of bodies hit the water through the years he's worked for Blackbeard.) And so he runs towards the sound, and peers over the railing, and there's Lucius, gasping and flailing, but alive, and alert enough to hold onto the rope Fang throws at him, and even though the boy's got no physical strength to speak of, he hauls himself up and overboard, and ends up starfished on deck, but only for a moment, only long enough to catch his breath, and soon he's hurtling away, curling into a ball against a cowl of rope. And that's when Fang hears it. The silence. Lucius hasn't said a word, not when he hit the water, not when he got the rope, not when he was climbing up, and now he even seems intent on breathing more quietly.

“What happened?” Fang whispers, even though the deck's empty.

“Blackbeard” is all that Lucius says, but in a whisper so tense, so obviously fraught with terror, that Fang knows. The Captain's finally snapped.

Fang is still there when Blackbeard reveals himself, fully dressed up and with black smeared around his eyes. He'd look ridiculous, if it weren't for Izzy's limp and the emptiness in his eyes. They fall back in line, him and Ivan, they go back to being Izzy's mean twin shadows, and Blackbeard's men. They throw overboard what needs thrown, be it books or crew members, and if some food goes missing through the changes, if a couple of blankets disappear before they hit the waves, well. No one needs to know.

Lucius lives. Miserably, silently, which makes him that much more miserable, but he lives. And he waits, same as Ivan, same as Fang. Same as everyone really, save maybe Izzy. They wait for Blackbeard to shift again, for him to turn back into something less violent, less desperate, because none of this is new after all, they're pirates, and at the end of the day, they kill, and maim, and maroon each other, and do whatever they must to survive. And this is how Blackbeard has survived so long, not by being the Kraken, but by being the Hydra, raising a new head whenever is needed, and if he's lost a few on the way, well, he'll just grow another one. Hopefully, Fang thinks, none of them is ever going to investigate the lose plank that opens up into a chamber under the kitchen floor, and hopefully, the head that thought it might belong with Stede Bonnet will not grow back enough to remember that there are secret rooms on this ship.

And so the Captain lives on, and all of them with him.

On AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/39182106

[whatudottu]

Coming from the Ben 10 Breakdowns, Zs’Skayr really had no true explained motivations on taking over the Earth. In fact, his canon motivations for WILLINGLY (i.e. possessing a Florauna) being sampled for the Omnitrix is completely unexplained, too!

Like… you’re literally the Ectolord?

…Why are you like… shirking your responsibilities???

ANYWAY! I’m here to talk about Zs’Skayr and how he’s motivated in the Area 51 au. Zs’Skayr 51 if you will.

Now, let’s first talk about why Zs’Skayr is out of town and now stuck in the watch instead of running shop as High Ectolord. You could say that he’s flunking, something f-ed happened on planet or responsibility isn’t his thing, but I think culturally Ectonurites probably have a… hrmm. Maybe not an innate sense of community, but perhaps are better at working together than apart, which reflects their own biology.

Sure, Humans work better when our bodies aren’t strewn about the room, but Ectonurites seem to commonly face being split apart. At least enough to the point where a single strand of DNA continues to carry a consciousness.

I’m not even going to begin to explain how that works, for I get too confused when actively thinking about it.

But the point here is, Zs’Skayr is still probably a committed Ectolord, though something seems to have pushed him out. Out so far as he’s not in Kansas The Anur System anymore. Pushed out so far because the local system can’t provide what Ectonurites need.

Now, the specifics are blurry, but I’d like to say that there’s some sort of uh… death plague striking Ectonurites. Could be a disease or virus type thing, or maybe some widespread genetic damage that’s tearing them apart from the inside out.

The sense of community within the Anur System did make reaching out a whole lot easier, Zs’Skayr knew this from the liberation of the Transylians, but even with direct sources on Ectonurite biology, inside help wasn’t doing much. In fact, the best the Anur System was at working together was facing against a common foe, and since there’s nothing to fight well…

Zs’Skayr was a little desperate.

It probably wasn’t his best decision going at it himself, but he did anoint people he trusted to take care of his civilians. He went at it alone to be ‘the sacrifice’ instead of sending others to die, but that didn’t stop his closest allies (Viktor and the unnamed Loboan and Thep Khufan) from trying to keep in contact.

When contacted ceased, needless to say things grew tense.

Over on Zs’Skayr’s perspective, he in his journeys heard rumours of the Omnitrix, but in concept only. The rumours talked about a ‘Noah’s Ark’ (obviously not the same phrase because aliens aren’t Christians) device, and that DNA from across the galaxy is being collected. Typically, the High Ectolord would be sceptical to the idea, but he’s already outside of the Anur System, so he’ll take any lead he can.

Maybe the Anur System is closed off for a reason, xenophobia and general mistreatment of its people and culture from the rest of the universe. Doesn’t help that a lot of accidents have happened from the universe alone, Luna Lobo probably still ended up in the Null Void for a bit and some random tears here and there sent people across the galaxy. So Zs’Skayr still possess a Florauna (or some other species ready to be sampled) to get his DNA in the Codon Stream.

Uh… maybe because he possessed a sample instead of being himself, that might have caused something buggy to happen with the scan. Whether his consciousness was whisked away with his sampled DNA or his actual body got fried in the process? Don’t know. Regardless, now his mission to save the Ectonurites lay unfinished, and many believe he died.

So, that’s how he’s gotten himself involved with the Omnitrix, but let’s see what’s his deal with Earth.

Now, being High Ectolord, it makes absolutely no dang sense as to why he wants Earth under his control. Well, unless he’s into conquering planets that is, but forcing your way into the Omnitrix does NOT seem like warlord behaviour and don’t come at me with gax and vil, prime villy is the warlord i’m referencing not this scary expert on the omnitrix.

But that doesn’t mean that the second he’s out the Omnitrix and freed from Area 51, he’s immediately off Earth.

No, he stays.

He stays because the Humans now have a sudden buttload of information on Ectonurites.

And he needs a little backup to get in there.

It’s a little difficult to scrounge up the tech needed for a communicator and perhaps even an ID mask when trying to hide, but being a ghost without some level 20 watch strapped to his wrist, Zs’Skayr manages. It’s also a lot helpful that Earth tech has also levelled up, which provides an abundance of space-age machines.

He’s no genius, but he whips up something crude and manages to send a message to his allies, probably most likely Viktor since he’s probably still looking out for a message. Obviously, he’s been gone a bit, probably not too long but certainly enough that a lot of Ectonurites have decided to live on the other Anur planets, primarily due to the lack of stable leadership on (or is it in?) Anur Phaetos.

Many have staved off extinction, but unfortunately none have gotten any better. The positive? The death toll hasn’t worsened.

“Where have you been!? All of Anur believed you dead!”

“It’s not far from the truth…” A pause, “I need you to assist me.”

“What system are you in? What planet!?”

“…”

“Zs’Skayr?”

“I’m on Earth…”

“WHAT!?”

Many rumours have spread about Earth, mainly disappearances but there’s the occasional ship crew that regale their experience. The planet’s more advanced, sure, but there’re still not on the level of uh… typical sci-fi spaceships. But they have used rocket technology to develop a defensive weapons system. Not only are there Ground to Atmosphere missiles, but some high altitude jets also have Air to Atmosphere weapons.

And with the previous rips and errors in the Anur System, a lot of folks have heard of Earth and try to keep track of it.

Earth is rather infamous, but resource wise, not worth the risk.

So essentially Zs’Skayr is being perceivably super crazy and also super impressive, seeming to have slipped through the atmosphere undetected. That’s not… entirely true, but the High Ectolord does explain that Earth has a high priority target on its surface, so interplanetary ‘threats’ may be left forgotten. He also requests help from the Yenaldooshi and the Mummy, who are probably separate from Crüjo and Kuphulu.

And yes, their mission is to raid Area 51.

No, they’re probably not going to go on Facebook and actually start our Area 51 raid.

It does take some time to gather, space travel and everything (like getting official ID masks along the way), and it takes a bit more to successfully pass as Human. Especially if they’re trying to get access to Area 51 without outing themselves as extraterrestrials, Zs’Skayr didn’t see everything but it was certainly a lot.

But he’ll see a lot more when they access the records, whether they get authorisation or just hack the institute from the inside.

A LOT of medical data, including images of… dissections and x-rays wherever relevant. A lot of physical data too, simple strengths and weaknesses.

Uh… not very pretty.

The plan?

Get the data (not enough time to dig for specifics), scrub the files (more than just alien data), and maybe pull a ‘Prisoner Number 775 is Missing’ and open up the cells and begin a REAL raid.

This turned from motivations into a plot, which is currently disconnected from the larger ‘story’ of Ben 51. It probably holds more significance in the au because of the ‘friends-but-not-really-in-contact-no-i-won’t-admit-it’ relationship between Ben and Zs’Skayr.

Also the Anur aliens, wanted them in here.

[lostonrevenge]

Between Us

Summary: The Isle of the Lost is a rough place to live with tricky relationships and expectations.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“What’s that?” Uma gestures to the piece of fabric poking out of Harry’s coat pocket.

“Nothing” he speaks quickly, moving his hand to cover the opening of his pocket. Obscuring what Uma knows to be a handkerchief from view.

“Whatever” Uma rolls her eyes before adding, “I’m just going to pretend that I didn’t have to listen to you sniffling all the way through the crews’ orders.” She doesn’t wait for him to reply before she stalks away to the other side of the ship.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

If Uma has figured anything about Harry in the years that she’s known him, it is that he is the single most stubborn person she’s ever met. Sometimes it could be a blessing if she needed him to do something for her, like settle a dispute, but right now it was a curse.

For awhile she’d been watching her crew mill around the deck of the Lost Revenge, some carrying out orders like fixing loose floor boards or restringing ropes, others counting up daily takings or sword fighting. Somehow her eyes kept shifting to him. She’d seen him teaching a new crew member how to plait a rope, occasionally sniffling into the back of his hand when they weren’t looking. He was subtle, she’d give him that.

A few minutes ago, she’d watched him and Gil sparring a short distance away from her. She’d seen him cover a few coughs into his shoulder while in mid-block from Gil’s sword. Immediately Gil had lowered his blade.

“You right?”

“Yeah, mate” Harry had replied, before tapping Gil’s sword with his own. “What say we go another round?”

And so, they had continued until Gil got called over to help move around some barrels. Since then Harry had disappeared into the lower decks of the ship.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

That’s how Uma found herself outside the storage hold listening to the muffled coughs of her first mate from through the wall. She was surprised to feel sympathy swelling inside her. Normally she didn’t care about the health of those around her, in fact it was uncommon to walk through the streets and not find someone coughing their lungs out or sweating with fever, but something about Harry being sick bothered her.

“You ready to admit you’re sick yet?” She asks coolly as Harry exits the hold, leaning with her foot propped against the wall.

To his credit he doesn’t startle as Uma had planed for him to do. “I’m fine. Just getting rope to tie up the barrels” he says calmly as if he knew she would be waiting there, adjusting the coil of rope he has over his shoulder.

“Alright, when you’re done with that, I could use your help finishing off that map” Uma tells him before turning towards her Captain’s quarters.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

It was almost half an hour later when Uma hears footsteps approaching from down the hallway. When the door swings open, she merely gives Harry a glance up from her desk as he makes his way over to the large table at the end of the room where the maps are placed.

Members of her crew had found a treasure trove of old maps in a raid a few weeks back and so Harry and Uma had started collating the individual islands into one larger map. Eventually Uma ended up intrusting the task to Harry because it came more naturally to him than it did to her.

As he walks past her, she finds it slightly surprising that he doesn’t spare her any sort of glance at all. Instead moving straight to the table, pulling out a chair, and getting to work. Figuring no sort of interaction was going to come from this, Uma picks up her pen and gets back to work.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

When Harry first began sneezing it didn’t come as much of a surprise, he’d been sniffling almost constantly and it had become as easy for Uma to ignore as the ticking of a clock. But as it continued it became more obvious as Harry became more frustrated by the fact that it wouldn’t seem to stop.

“Hup'mtt” Uma looks up from her desk after hearing him stifle a sneeze into the piece of scrap fabric his father had conditioned him to use as a handkerchief. He truly looks terrible, his face paler than it had been previously and his eyes shimmering around the edges, either from the effort to stop himself from sneezing or from fever, Uma can’t tell. She doesn’t bother to bless him, that was something people only did in Auradon, and she figures that it wouldn’t be the last time that this would happen.

She was right. For the next half hour, she would look up to see him sniffling into the balled-up cloth or rubbing his nose in an effort not to sneeze, unintentionally making it redder over time. If a sneeze did happen to escape him, he would repress it and stifle it as quietly as possible in the hope that Uma wouldn’t notice. It never worked.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Taking a break from planning the crews’ chore roster, she looks up to find Harry losing another battle. His eyelids fluttering as he holds the handkerchief in both hands, his pen discarded to the side. His breath hitches faintly before he releases a long sigh as the sneeze disappears. Sniffing, he picks up his pen, only to drop it frustratedly as his breath hitches again.

“IDschkihh…EDSHhhh” he convulses forward, sneezing congestedly into the handkerchief. Keeping it held to his nose, he sniffles a few times before lowering it. Quietly he clears his throat before resuming his work.

Uma sighs heavily as she pushes her chair out from under her desk. Untangling her legs from around the furniture, she fixes her eyes on Harry, looking miserable with his head resting on one hand. She makes a show of walking over to him, her boots clomping loudly on the floor. “Quit the front, the rest of the crew aren’t here” she begs him.

Harry shifts slightly when he sees Uma walking towards him.

“It’s only me. Just admit that you’re sick” she persists as she comes to a stop next to his chair, putting her hand gently on his shoulder.

“I might be… a wee bit ill” he admits slowly, closing his eyes as he tiredly leans against Uma. His head coming to rest against her hip.

“Just a bit?” she scoffs softly as she looks down at him. Feeling the heat of his head against her, she reaches her hand from his shoulder to his forehead. It concerns her that he makes not effort at all to try and push her hand away, instead he ever so slightly leans into her touch. “You have a fever” she remarks, as if he didn’t know already.

She won’t ask him how he feels because she’s pretty sure she can get a good gauge on that, and there’s no doubt that he would outright lie. So instead she figures that she can piece things together in asking, “what’s wrong?”

Harry inhales deeply as he pulls himself away from Uma. “I don’t know. I felt relatively fine this morning, just kind of off.”

“So, you felt fine last night?”

“Hmm. My throat didn’t even hurt until I started coughing.”

Uma nods, “and what hurts most?”

Harry sniffles pathetically, grimacing slightly. “My head” he croaks leaning forward onto the table, propping his head up with his fingers pushing against his browbone.

“Not surprised, you sound real stuffed up.” Uma taps her palm on the back of his shoulder, “blow your nose.”

Reluctantly he reaches into his pocket retrieving his handkerchief before cupping it around his nose. The sound is strained and thick, and he winces slightly as congestion shifts inside his head.

“That better?” Uma squeezes his shoulder as he pockets the handkerchief.

Harry only sniffles in reply, not sounding any less congested than he had before.

“Oh Harry” Uma exclaims under her breath. She doesn’t think that she’s seen him this rundown before. “Let’s get you to bed.”

 Almost immediately when he stands out of his chair, his breath catches in his lungs and he shields a fit of coughs into his elbow. As he struggles for breath his other hand grips onto the rim of the table, his knuckles turning white.

“You know what, forget it” Uma says after the coughs die down. “I was going to take you back to your cabin, but you can just crash in mine.”

“’m not going to take your bed, Uma” Harry shakes his head slowly.

“And I’m not going to be the one responsible for you collapsing in the hallway, trying to make it to the other side of the ship.”

At her words Harry hangs his head and lets Uma lead him over to sit on her bed across the room.

“I’m gonna go get some things,” she says while her thumb strokes against his fevered cheek, “try and get some rest.”

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

“Where are you going?” Uma hears Gil’s voice call out from behind her as she walks across the deck of the ship.

She turns around seeing him making his way towards her, looking at the bucket in her hand. “Getting water.”

“Hey, was Harry down there with you?” Gil asks, stopping in front of her.

“Yeah, he’s been drawing the map.”

“Is he coming up? We were planning on leaving for our rounds together.”

“Uh” Uma falters, her eyes flicking around to the crew surrounding them. She knows that Harry wouldn’t want them to overhear what she’s about to tell Gil, so she takes him by the arm and leads him over to a secluded area on the bow of the ship.

He makes a sound of confusion but lets her lead him along all the same.

When they stop Uma keeps hold of his arm and leans closer to him, keeping her voice low. “He’s taken ill.”

Gil nods his head in understanding, he’d noticed that Harry’s sword strokes where weaker than usual that morning.

“Listen,” Uma’s voice remains a whisper, “would you be able to cover his rounds for him?”

Gil opens his mouth to reply but stops short, his eyebrows scrunching together. He’d never known Harry to miss out on his rounds for any reason at all. “How bad is it?” he asks instead.

“Fairly” Uma confesses. “But he’ll do better after some rest” she quickly adds after seeing Gil’s face drop in worry.

“Do you know what’s wrong?” Gil inquires.

“Walk with me” Uma instructs, nodding her head to the gangplank.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Together they walk silently off the ship, Uma leading the way to the well down the street as soon as they step onto the wharf.

“I think it must be some kind of flu” Uma speaks freely now they are out of range from the ears of the crew. “He was saying that he felt fine last night, and they tend to come on quickly.”

“It can’t be that bad, can it?” Gil responds in disbelief. “Sure, he looked a little down this morning…”

“I know” Uma agrees, “but he hid it well.”

“Where is he now, did you send him home?”

“No, he’s in my quarters” Uma tells him as they reach the well. “He’ll stay there tonight, he’s too weak to move far.”

Gil is silent for a moment or two while he thinks, chewing on his lip as he watches Uma lower the bucket into the depths of the well.

“I’ll do his rounds” he settles, “then should I stop by his house and tell his sisters that he won’t be home?”

“That would be best” Uma acknowledges as she reels up the bucket and takes it off of the hook. “His dad might not notice but Harriet certainly will.”

Gil nods before turning to leave.

“Gil, wait!” Uma reaches her hand out to stop him. “While you’re out, can you see if you can find some thyme?”

“You mean like the herb?” Gil checks, it wouldn’t be the first time he got that confused.

On the Isle, it is a struggle to find any sort of medicine thanks to only getting Auradon’s scraps. Sometimes the witches got them, but they always sold them for much more than the poorer families could afford. Which is why people, if they know what is good for them, tend to have a basic knowledge of natural remedies. The trick is knowing where to find them, because barely anything grows in the godforsaken place.

“Yeah” Uma confirms. “Yzma should have some at the apothecary, trade what you think is fair for it. If she doesn’t Madam Mim will have some in her garden, just be careful if you have to take it.”

With that taken on board, Gil bows his head and walks away.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

When Uma returns to her quarters, she’s not surprised to find Harry asleep on her bed, atop the sheets. Immediately she puts the bucket of water down by the head of the bed, then she brings the chair over from her desk and places it down next to it. Sitting in the chair she takes the cloth that she had found in the kitchen off her shoulder where she had balanced it, and carefully folds it before submerging it in the bucket.

After ringing it out she uses her other hand to brush away the hair that had fallen over Harry’s forehead, finding it already damp with sweat. As her hand moves through his hair, Harry inhales a deep breath as he starts to wake up.

“Go back to sleep” Uma hums as she places the cloth on his skin.

“’s cold” he groans as his eyes flutter open.

“It should be” Uma speaks softly. “Need to get your temperature down before you start hallucinating.”

“I don’t hallucinate” Harry denies groggily.

“I’m going to hold you to that, Hook” Uma laughs gently. “I don’t want to have to deal with you running around trying to fight imaginary monsters.”

“We used to do that all the time” Harry remembers, his mind still surprisingly sharp considering his ailment. “When we were kids.”

“We did, didn’t we?” Uma smiles as she removes the cloth from his forehead, brushing it against his cheek making him shiver.

She purses her lips as she looks at the red coat still wrapped around him. “This needs to go” she pulls at the sleeve, which he clutches at tighter. “We’ll never get your fever down with it on.”

Harry groans as heavily as his throat will allow him, but Uma watches as his grip loosens on the cuffs.

Uma takes his forearm in one hand and helps pull him up, keeping her other hand on his back. She lets him sit still for a second after seeing his eyes lose focus in a dizzy spell before they snap back to clarity. Once he manages to wrestle his arms out of the sleeves, she pulls the coat off him before folding it roughly in a ball and throwing it at the other end of the bed.

“I’ll let you put it back on a little later” Uma promises after she sees him shiver and tuck his knees up to his chest, trying to conserve what little warmth he has left.

Instead of closing his eyes and going back to sleep, Uma watches as his eyes stay open, shifting around the room. His face drawn in an expression of thought.

“What are you thinking about?”

“Gil and I were gonna leave for our rounds together” he mumbles as he sits back up, pushing away Uma’s hand holding the cloth. “Can’t keep him waiting any longer.”

“He’s already left” Uma stops him from getting up with a hand on his shoulder. “He’s doing your round as well.”

“What? Why?” Harry stops short but makes no further move to stand up.

“I asked him to.”

“I can still do it” Harry speaks adamantly in such a way that Uma nearly believes him.

“I don’t care if you think you can. I don’t want you to” Uma rejects.

Harry’s shoulders drop and he looks at the ground despondently, in an expression you would see from a child who was just told they weren’t allowed to do something.

“So what, Harry? You miss one round?” she scoffs, knowing that the completions of his rounds are a point of pride for him. “I’m the Captain, I call the shots, and I’m telling you no.”

“Uma” Harry tries hopelessly.

“Don’t think I think any less of you for sitting it out” Uma assures him, gently squeezing his shoulder. “You’re tired, Harry. I can see it. Just get some rest.”

Harry gives in, lowering himself back onto the mattress. “You don’t have to do this” he says weakly, looking up at her.

“I want to. And I know you’d do the exact same for me” is all she says before placing the cloth back onto his head and watching him drift off to sleep.

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The halls of the ship are almost empty when Gil returns to the Lost Revenge, most of the crew having returned home for the night. The only few remaining are the ones who don’t have a home to return to, or would prefer not to. He slips his way through a small mass of them hanging around the doorway of one of the cabins, his mind fixed on making his way to Uma’s quarters.

When he reaches the door he doesn’t bother knocking, a privilege only he and Harry have. Stepping into the room he isn’t surprised to find Harry asleep and Uma sitting next to him.

Hearing the sound of footsteps behind her Uma turns around to see Gil enter the room. Immediately she’s on her feet making her way over to him.

“Did you manage to find any?” she meets him in the middle of the room.

Gil nods handing her over a small bundle of thyme, tied up with string. “Traded with Yzma. She only wanted some nice fabric I picked up on my round to fix her clothes.”

She nods her head to him in thanks before brushing past him out the door. After the door closes softly behind her, Gil moves over to take her place in the chair by the bed.

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For a while Gil sat next to Harry, but without him being awake and able to talk to, Gil quickly got bored and went and wondered around the room. He’d spent sometime looking over the maps at the table and marvelling over the one Harry had been working on earlier in the day. It fascinated him how Harry’s handwriting could be so neat when he wanted it to be, as opposed to the chicken scratch he normally used.

Currently he stands by the window at the back of the ship, looking out across the water. If he looks hard enough, he can make out the lights of Auradon through the thick mist of the Isle. The Palace standing tall against the lights of the little villages around the shoreline. Gil wonders whether it is the same castle where his dad had fought with the Beast or if the King and Queen had built a new one when they joined all the kingdoms together, he’s never known. Before he can dwell on that any further, his thoughts are interrupted as Harry begins to cough from behind him.

Without a moments hesitation he turns on his heel and makes his way over to the bed, where he sits himself on the mattress next to Harry. From there he helps him sit up letting him lean against him, before swinging his own legs up onto the bed. The sound is grating as Harry continues to cough into a handkerchief, that Gil hadn’t realised he’d been holding until now. Each cough wrenches him forward and Gil wraps his arm around him to hold him in place.

At long last when the fit subsides Harry leans his head against Gil’s shoulder with a crackling sigh, closing his eyes in exhaustion. Gil loosens his grip as Harry relaxes into him, letting his hand fall to the side.

“Don’t die on me while Uma’s out” he teases lightly once Harry had caught his breath.

“As opposed to when she gets back?” Harry returns the jest, his voice sounding rough.

Gil stifles a laugh but his smile drops when he feels Harry pull away from him.

“EHKSSShhuihhh” he hunches forward, tiredly sneezing into the handkerchief. Keeping it pressed to his nose he sniffles into it before clearing his throat quietly into his fist, leaning back against the wall.

“You know, I never thought the great Harry Hook would be taken down by a case of the sniffles” Gil quips, earning himself a good-natured yet forceful whack on the arm from Harry.

“Shut up!”

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Once Uma had left her quarters she headed for the kitchen. It wasn’t anything special, just a small section of the dining hall, but it had the necessities; pots and pans for heating things on the small stovetop, a few chopping boards, and not so strangely, a large collection of knives.

Behind the bench she’d busied herself with untying the bundle of thyme and cutting the herb up into fine pieces, making quick work of it with a practiced hand from working in the Chip Shop. Around her a few members of the crew joked around eating dinner at the tables. They’d offered her some but she’d turned it down, she wasn’t hungry. She had thought about getting some for Harry though she figured that he wouldn’t be hungry either, but she’d send Gil over to get some later.

Once she had water boiling in a pot, she threw the thyme in and covered it with a cracked lid. While she waited, she leaned against the bench listening to the conversation around her, most of it was placing bets on each other as usual. But eventually it came to wanting to play a game of blackjack. Uma had never understood the rules of the game, but she knew Harry was good at it and soon there were calls about his whereabouts. Of course, the crew had asked her where he’d gone off to because most of them hadn’t seen him since midday. She’d fabricated some lie but she can’t remember what she’d said, though the crew had seemed to buy it as they dealt out the cards.

Now as she walks back to her quarters, she balances three mugs of tea on a chopping board for easier carrying, leaving the noise and laughter of the dining hall behind her. With the practiced balance of waitressing, she balances the board on one hand as she opens the door to the room. Stepping in she sees Gil sitting on the bed next to Harry who is leaning on him with his eyes closed, though Uma knows that he’s awake.

“I’m sorry, he wouldn’t stop shaking” Gil explains when he sees Uma’s eyes register that Harry is once again wearing his coat.

She offers him a small smile, knowing that he only means the best, but says nothing as she continues to walk towards them. Once she sets the board down on a small table by the bed, she turns back to them. “Harry?” she says gently, getting him to open his eyes.

Carefully she reaches past Gil and places the back of her fingers onto Harry’s forehead before moving them to his check. “It’s not too bad but we’ll keep an eye on it” Uma sighs as she withdraws her hand, turning back to the tray. Grabbing a mug off the top she hands it to Harry, making sure he has a sufficient grip on it before she lets go, then she gives another to Gil before taking the last one for herself.

While they drink their tea, Uma rattles off about the dumb bets she was over hearing in the kitchen. She and Gil have a laugh at some of them and debate whether others would be completed. Once all the mugs are placed back on the tray, Uma sends Gil to take them back to the kitchen and grab some dinner while he’s at it. When the door shuts behind him she turns to Harry.

“I don’t want you working tomorrow.”

She shouldn’t have been surprised that even in his weakened state, Harry opens his mouth to protest.

“No. I don’t care how little of a thing you want to do; the answer is no” she quickly shuts down. “I don’t care whether it’s just sitting there drawing the map, or helping me with the patrol roster. You’re not doing anything apart from resting.”

Harry didn’t even have time for his face to show a look of defeat before coughs bubble out of his chest. Uma should have taken pleasure out of the moment as it seemed to emphasise her point, but she didn’t, now hearing rumbling sounds from inside his chest.

“Does it hurt?” she asks after noting how Harry had kept the coughs supressed behind closed lips, trying to keep them as small as possible.

He blinks slowly and nods his head ever so slightly in confirmation.

She brushes his hair out from his face and continues to run her hand down his neck to his chest, while he closes his eyes. She hesitates, battling with her thoughts before she finally asks him, “why didn’t you tell me how you were feeling?”

Harry opens his eyes but says nothing, not knowing how to respond.

“I know you’ve been struggling all day, but you never said anything” Uma continues, hoping to prompt an answer from him.

“Just thought it would be nothing,” Harry justifies tiredly.

“I know and I believe you” Uma agrees. “But even when I pressed you about it, you kept denying it.”

“This isn’t a lecture, Harry” Uma says, taking Harry’s silence as being a sign of submission. “But as your Captain, I need to know if you’re not at your best” she finalises before placing her hand on Harry’s. “You’re a hard worker, Harry. Sometimes it’s okay to stop.”

Harry hesitates before he nods his head. “I don’t mean to disrespect your leadership” – he makes to apologise before Uma cuts him off.

“You don’t owe me an apology,” Uma shakes her head. “I get how things are around here,” she knew more than anyone that admitting weakness on the Isle would lead to your downfall. “I just don’t want it to be like that between us.”

And from that moment on, it never was.

[tessatechaitea]

Darkstars #5

What happens when two guys clash, each thinking they're the ultimate authority for good and each believes violence is the best solution to a problem? We'll find out this issue!

I didn't know hawks were angry assholes but I'm assuming Hawkman is the personification of a hawk's personality so it must be true. I also didn't know spiders were mild-mannered. Or guys were misogynist, short-tempered jerk-offs (you know, like Guy Gardner). I've learned a lot from comic books! I just looked over the cover again and I think it might be on my Top Ten Sexiest Comic Book Covers of All Time. Mostly it's due to the way it looks like Detective Crumbstache and Hawkman look like they're furiously trying to jerk each other off and the way Hawkwoman double grips that crossbow the way she'd not have to double grip my cock.

How come I never read Modesty Blaise? It was about two whole things, one of which I really enjoy!

The cover of this issue just got even sexier if you consider the inside advert as part of the cover which I do because look at the way Modesty is sucking off that gun. I bet I was planning on buying Modesty Blaise but then I jerked off over this advert, fell immediately asleep on top of the comic, and woke up later having forgotten all about it. It's the exact same reason I never read Warlord. Now I want to make this advert into a sign to protest the police. It should really confuse them! This issue is called "Slaves and Other Prisoners." If one of the "R"s in "prisoners" was a "B", it would be an anagram for pissboner. A better writer probably would have written about the problematic casual use of the word slaves in the American vernacular. "Vernacular" is an anagram for "anal curver." A couple of aliens have arrived in Earth's orbit to pick up Evil Star and his Starlings and transport them to Galactic Prison. They treat Evil Star like shit and Darkstar is all, "Whoa, my dudes! Chill out, man! Don't make me have to raise my voice! We're all cool here. No need for negative vibes!" Man, I really misjudged Darkstar Colos when I began reading this comic book. He's actually a decent cop. But then again, his story is the exact story of any cop that tries to be decent in a corrupt system that fetishizes violence, power, and respect. He's been shoved off to a backwater planet that's so far out of the Controller's sphere of influence that they've already questioned the leader of the Darkstars as to the need for space cops so far afield. Colos was trouble and he was acting better than the other cops so he got sent off to where he can't cause any problems. Weird to think that the phrase "can't cause any problems" in police lingo actually means "improves the system and works toward justice and accountability." Detective Chicago-head gets put on the Carla White kidnapping case. The cops don't actually know she's been kidnapped but they suspect Pappas, the Loco kingpin, took her against her will. But Detective Two-Sausages-One-Bun pretends he's been on a drinking jag and isn't in his right mind to lead a raid on Pappas's warehouse. That's because he wants to raid the place himself in his Darkstars Sidekick outfit. Once again, he's proving that he's a terrible cop (aka a status quo, regular, run-of-the-mill police). Detective Two-Sizes-Too-Big-Head had better hurry with the rescue mission because Carla White is currently being sold into the space sex slave trade. I was going to make a joke earlier about her being sold into the alien sex slave trade but then I thought better of it, realizing that just putting "space" in front of "sex slave trade" didn't rise to an appropriate level of satire that would justify making light of sex slavery. I did add the word "space" to sex slave trade at the beginning of this paragraph but it wasn't for a joke; it was just stating the facts of this comic book. Look, we all read the title! We all knew where this story was headed but I wasn't brave enough to broach the subject earlier. I just said that stupid thing about an nearly correct anagram and moved on. Oh, by the way, when Carla White hears she's going to be sold into sex slavery, she's all, "I'm not going to be the property of some Middle East sheikh!" Seems a little racist to me. I bet she felt dumb (and racist) when she found out she was being sold to aliens and not Arabs.

Is this why conservatives don't have any morals or ethics? Because they think if they acted on those things, they'd get sold into the space sex slave trade?

Since I've added "space" to the phrase "sex slave trade," I can probably call it hyperbole and satire when I write something like, "Boy! I sure wish all conservatives would get sold into the space sex slave trade!"

Actually, yes, Detective Mustached-Rumproast, that's exactly what you were supposed to do.

It's not the cop's job to become judge and jury because they don't trust the judge and jury will do their job. If that's why cops kill people then I think it means citizens are allowed to kill cops if we don't believe they'll do their job? Am I using logic correctly? I'm just a stupid libturd so I wouldn't know logic if it constantly @ed me on Twitter demanding that I debate it. Flint (that's the name of Detective Sausage-fingers. I learned his name because I've run out of different types of meat to compare his fat head to) breaks into Pappas's space sex slave trade warehouse where the ship is nearly fully loaded with slaves for space sex. But instead of battling the space sex slave traders and saving the day, he starts a fight with Hawkman and Hawkwoman. Where rock has this guy's pink, salty ham-head been stuck under his entire life? He doesn't recognize the good heroes of the DC Universe?! I wonder if Stan Lee had ever considered a law suit against every comic book that had two different heroes mistakenly battle each other before they realized their error and teamed up? It's so recognizably a Marvel idea that I would have awarded Stan Lee all the money. Unless the idea is actually from The Bible? I mean Cain and Abel almost pulled that trick except Abel just wound up being too much of a loser to survive to the team up part. During the confusion of the violent good guys fighting the other violent good guys, the rocket with the space sex slaves takes off. Hopefully Hawkman and Detective Flint will learn a lesson from this incident. Maybe suss out the situation before beating everybody you see to a bloody pulp. Darkstars #5 Rating: B. The Hawklovers were only in this issue for a couple of pages which is fine by me but probably not ideal for all the Hawklover fans who purchased this book because they were on the cover. I'm sure the next issue will feature more Hawklover action. I'm also sort of hoping that Carla White has now been launched into space and won't be rescued. She'll just turn up in a spin-off series called Space Sex Slave Traders. Obviously that never happened but now that I put the idea out there, maybe it did happen in another, better, sexier timeline.