#and stede like nods along

[orions-beltloops]

“you can’t catch a fish unless the fish wants to be caught” not even remotely true Ed babe not even fucking close. good try though.

[faradayys]

bilbo aziraphale and stede bonnett having a tea party, talking about polite gentleman stuff, while thorin and blackbeard point wildly at each other(same hair! same hair color! both have light curly haired lovers!) and crowley is just done with them

[follows-the-bees]

Filmmaking analysis time!

How cinematography, blocking, and camerawork in S2 eps 6&7 show Ed's and Stede's emotions.

Since season one, red has been used to show the love for each other: the red of the silk and Stede's new red shirt in both moon scenes. We also know that purple comes out more as Ed falls in love with Stede.

So let's talk about Calypso's Birthday and Man on Fire.

The lighting during this scene is full of color, the reds, purples, and blues. Besides being classic bi lighting, it incorporates the red and purple that we know represents Ed's and Stede's love.

They are swimming in it. Yet, they aren't the same blockingwise, they aren't as close as last season, there is still stuff between them that needs to be spoken. They are standing by each other, their bodies turned inward, and a giant red flower sits bright and center between them, showing how large and full the love they have for each other is.

These purples and reds diminish when Ned Lowe crashes the party. His presence brings a screeching halt to the healing and good times the crew and particularly Ed and Stede are having. He not only crashes the party but right before Ed and Stede were about to dance. This giant wrecking ball that symbolizes Ed's pirate past brings in the harsh blue and green lighting and ups the trauma for both men. Green lighting is used to show that things are off, it is off-putting and fills the scene and audience with unease.

Gif credit

The purple lighting stays very subtle during this whole scene, but as Ned insults everyone, and brings up all of the still unspoken insecurities of the men, the blue shines more, especially on Stede as he makes his choice to have Ned walk the plank. We see immediately how that affects Stede, his trauma comes roaring back, he's shaking, and has tears in his eyes. He retreats back to his cabin.

Ed on the other hand is also experiencing trauma here. While helping out and being around Stede, he has been treading water, trying to figure out what he actually wants in life. And the embodiment of that, when he was at his lowest after S1, when he was trying to break the record has come back to taunt him and the man he loves. He chooses to check in on Stede.

This is when the lighting and camerawork change. We are now inside and the lighting is warm, glowing from candlelight. Ed has a yellow glow behind him when Stede opens the door, like he is the beacon of light in this storm of emotion and trauma that Stede is experiencing from his decision to kill Ned. To cross that boundary when with the rest of the crew he used his usual positive people management style.

Pay attention to their positions here, cause this upcoming choice makes this scene feel off. The pull into the room and the subsequently slam into the wall and kiss are flipped. Along with the quick movements in each shot, this triggers a little part of our brain that realizes something is off even if we don't know why. Read more about the mirror shot in this meta analysis.

When Ed and Stede decide to be together for the first time, to numb the traumatic pain in their desperation and love for each other the lighting is different. It turns a warming orange/yellow glow, showing the softness of the situation.

These men desperately love each other and want to be together. They both agree to this night, Stede pauses before kissing Ed, waits until Ed nods his head and gives consent then pulls Stede in.

And when Stede closes the curtains, the lighting is back to red and purple. The two colors symbolizing the love these two have for each other.

In the morning, the bright yellow lighting is back. The beautiful morning sky in the background looks serene and idyllic, but it also puts our characters in a shadowy haze in the foreground.

They are still in the warmth, the afterglow of being together. Ed gets nervous and brings Stede breakfast in bed. (A parallel to Doug and Mary). They have an intimate conversation where Ed opens up about seeing mermaid Stede while in Purgatory. They have now been intimate in all forms of the word.

But there is still something off, just like with the mirrored images. Stede is shirtless, open, feeling safe. Ed has ditched his leather clothing, his Blackbeard persona, and is now in fine clothing. And I can't confirm but the inside of the robe looks purple. But his robe is closed, which can be read as still hesitant, even if it's subconscious. And they have the same body language of all of the last episode. They are sitting apart, not touching, but still comfortable facing and leaning into each other.

And this bliss continues outside where they open up more. The lighting is bright, pretty, they are surrounded by greens and tans, glowing still. Stede tells him about the multiple letters in bottles he has written. They are opening up about things but they are still avoiding what needs to be talked about - the trauma, their different paths that seem to be emerging.

And then finally, when the fight happens, all of the uneasiness from the mirrored shot, the close but not yet close enough body language, all of these choices come crashing down just like the relationship.

The light is muted. They have spent part if not all of the day apart. So the lighting indicates that it is approaching sunset not only in time but in their relationship, the foreshadowing of Ed breaking up with Stede and leaving.

Ed has already made up his mind. He is leaving to be a fisherman. He thinks what happened the night before - and by that - the moving too fast part was a mistake. While they both love and want each other, Ed is self sabotaging - in a direct parallel of last season - thinks he has ruined Stede, spiralling and choosing like he's done in the past to completely run away from the darkness. He needs to learn that he can embrace both (all) sides of himself without losing himself.

Stede tries to save it. Responds to Ed saying "this can be whatever we want it to be." But then things escalate, things aren't explained. Stede doesn't realize what the fish means to Ed, and saying he lied about the quality of the fish is Ed's view of them, "they are the fish."

They need to talk, about what they want, their diverting paths, finding common ground, and learn how to be in this relationship.

They believe the exact opposite of the truth. Ed thinks he's ruined Stede and that Stede won't love him if he's not Blackbeard (the chin convo!) And Stede thinks he isn't good enough for Ed (and everyone, that is why he goes a little crazy when people recognize him - in a direct parallel to Ed during the dinner party in 1x5.) And Ed doesn't love his softness.

All the lighting reaffirms just how much these two love each other, but the blocking, mirrored camerawork, and fast movements show the underlying unresolved tension that has been building up and ultimately leads to this rift.

[bizarrelittlemew]

ok but what if THIS

is the VERY first shot of season 2 episode 1 (and/or the first time we see Stede)

imagine it. the sound of waves crashing on the rocks. Stede looks at the bottle, music slowly fades in. he lifts his gaze, looks out over the ocean. wind blowing in his hair and his billowing shirt. he tosses the bottle as far as he can. we see it bob along on the waves. he nods to himself, has that same smile as when he rows out to find Ed at the end of season 1. perhaps he whispers something like "I'm coming back, Edward"

then he goes back to the crew and they ask him where he's been and he proceeds to get absolutely ROASTED for using bottle messaging like

"oh my god no one does that in real life"

"you threw trash in the ocean, congrats"

"that's it, we're doomed"

cue title card <3

[izzymarksthespot]

Possessed by the idea of Ed sitting Stede down once he gets together with Izzy (just to be clear, I mean Stizzy getting together) and giving his co-captain a lecture about dating their first mate, since he's already got experience (kinda like Ted to Barney in HIMYM).

The rules are as follows:

1. No PDA. None. No matter how tiny the gestures might seem. Izzy Hands is not to be touched in view of others. Period. Unless Stede really wants to lose a finger or an eye.

2. No pet names under penalty of death. Ed has tried to call Izzy 'babe' exactly once. The screaming he got in return was not worth it.

3. All attempts at funny business during 'work hours' are strictly forbidden. Any tries result in a knife to the gut. Izzy doesn't let sex distract him from chores. Ever.

4. Izzy's hair is not to be petted, even if they look exceptionally fluffy. It's not done. Finger, eye, knife. You get the picture.

5. You do not coddle Izzy. Never offer him any comfy fluffy robes, bubble baths or such, even if he looks like death warmed over. It's best to leave him alone till he bounces back himself.

Stede listens to the list with rapt attention, nodding along, even starts taking notes at some point.

Then proceeds to do the exact opposite.

And Ed watches as Izzy lets him.

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Beginning to suspect that they cut the boyfriends/zaddy/catboy scene simply because it took away too much from the intended emotional weight of Izzy's death. With every scond of bts footage I see I keep thinking "okay, so this is why Izzy said he wanted to go, he had to listen to Ed call Stede his zaddy and then ramble stream-of-consciousness about how Zheng was like three super cool stealthy cats." It makes it too easy to understand why his will to live drained from his body. If they'd kept it all in then everyone would've been nodding along when he died like "yeah this is probably what he would've wanted"

[st-danger]

I NEED MORE GHOUL HORN PORN CONTENT

(I think @stede-bonnets has opened a can of worms for everyone, so thank them!)

"Dew," Aether gasps, "oh, oh-"

He can barely get the words out between each thrust Dew gives him. And really, there aren't many words now. Noises, yes. Hurt little vocalizations that Dew pulls from him with force, like Aether owes him.

It's different when Aether takes him, but Dew is always demanding. Always just this side of too much. An almost but not quite burn, like hiding a hand too close to an open flame. Almost, but not quite.

Spread out on his back, Aether huffs a breath, knocked out of him rhythmically.

"Hang on- oh, please, please, hang on, slow down-"

Dew braces one hand on Aether's chest, ans shoves the fingers of his other roughly into Aether's mouth to quiet him.

"I'll fuck you how I want," Dew says. And really, he should have seen this coming. Too many months away on tour, and Aether has missed him. They've missed each other. It isn't that Aether doesn't enjoy the treatment he's getting, but it's going to be over so quickly, is the thing. He should have played with himself in the shower earlier. Given himself a fighting chance. Dew will be done with him when he feels like it, not if Aether cums too early and sobs from sensitivity. Best he hold out, though he knows Dew wants his tears tonight.

So he moans around his fingers, the sound blunted but no less devastating. His thighs jiggle with each thrust; Dew watches that intensely. There's a smattering of tiny bruises, a speckling of blue marks where Dew nipped and sucked cruelly to make Aether whine, hurting him just enough to make him tremble and beg. To stop or continue, he isn't sure himself. Flinching from the pain and his cock still flushed and heavy lying against his soft belly.

"Already close aren't you," Dew says, low and a little nasty. Not a question, but Aether nods fervently anyway, eyes wide and overbright with a few gathered tears. "You keep squeezin' me, I can tell. Greedy little hole missed me, huh?" Dew withdraws his fingers and Aether knows he's meant to respond.

"It missed you," he pants. "So did I." And then his cock throbs hard when Dew leans down, the angle change forcing the blunt head of his cock squarely into the sweet secret spot inside him, and Aether panics.

"S'gonna make me cum," he confesses, urgent, pawing at any piece of Dew he can reach. "Not yet, please-"

"Can't help yourself," Dew laughs, pausing. Grinding. Somehow it's worse. "Need my cock so bad, can't help yourself." Aether shakes his head.

He should have gotten off earlier. Fuck, he should have.

Blessedly, Dew stills and Aether thanks him, and clenches his jaw when his balls draw up tight anyway. Hair trigger, now. Already on borrowed time.

Dew leans down, and places a little kiss to his forehead, a syrupy sweet gesture that catches Aether off guard, and then, horribly-

He feels a hot, flat tongue drag along the line where skin meets horn.

Aethers body jerks and he cries out.

Dew chuckles. Evil, he really is. The tongue repeats, and Aether's eyes roll back as Dew uses his lips and tongue to make out with the sensitive area, wet and demanding as he always is, forcing sensation out of him. It's a tingly sort of pleasure, and one that he feels directly in his pelvis. It's excruciating.

"Hold it in," Dew breathes. "Not until I tell you. Don't cum until I say you little slut."

Dew licks a filthy stripe from the base up the horn itself.

He tries to hold it in.

Dew repeats.

He cannot hold it in.

[bougiebutchbinch]

on a happier note

today my brain is buzzing with the idea of Ed getting incredibly hyperfixated on fishing and Izzy and Stede listening to him ramble for literal hours

Stede is sitting there with starry eyes, nodding along, doing his utmost to match Ed's enthusiasm! He's... a tiny bit tired of the topic, truth be told, but he loves how much Ed loves to talk! He can't keep all these facts about different flounder species straight in his head, but he adores how passionate Ed gets. Even if he's zoned out slightly, he's just enjoying the companionship and the vibes!

Izzy, in contrast, abruptly stands up and strides for the door because - fuck, it's been an hour. "Someone's gotta go run the ship. I'd better go make sure we don't run aground (again)."

Ed cuts off his spiel, eyes all sparkly and sad. He mumbles "Okay, mate. Sure, whatever," but it's sooooo obvious he wants Izzy to stay.

Izzy is kinda surprised - he figured Bonnet's eager nodding and encouragement was far more engaging to Ed than his quiet concentration. But there's no denying the hurt expression on Ed's face, and - fuck, Izzy's trying to do better.

They both are.

So, Izzy grumbles, rolls his eyes, and says "OKAY you can come with me and keep talking about your fucking fish. You too, Bonnet."

Ed leaps up, all boundless energy. Stede is quick to follow.

The result is Izzy stomping around the deck checking everyone's work while his captain's tumble after him like excitable puppies, Ed still explaining that he thinks the Sargasso Sea eels are actually the European ones, and they just swim a ridiculously long way to enjoy the clear blue water, because honestly, who wouldn't?

Although Izzy's obviously paying attention to his job and making sure shit's running smoothly, every so often he asks a really pertinent question that shows he's been absorbing literally everything Ed says and thinking critically about it, too. Ed lights up like... well, a lighthouse, and goes off on another spiel - while Stede smiles at both of them fondly and the crew giggles behind cupped hands~

By the end of the week, Ed's is sinking into the post-hyperfixation blues, where The Thing He Loved is no longer producing the same dopamine rush. But his boyfriends are there to pamper him and wrap him in blankets and make sure he knows that even when he's sad and gloomy, Izzy's gonna protect him and Stede's gonna give him affection (and even vice versa, in their own ways).

Izzy's head is now full of somewhat useless fish facts. He wouldn't have it any other way.

[raz-writes-the-thing]

Show Business (OFMD Drabble)

Stede Bonnet x GN!Reader / requests are open

Summary: Stede is teaching you a thing or two about piracy.

Fic type: fluff, semi-crack

OFMD: @catlynharper (send an ask to be added to a tag list!)

___ ___ ___ ___ ___

“It’s all in the wrist, see?” Stede says, demonstrating a rather dangerous-looking flick of the pistol in his hand. He’s teaching you about the flare of dramatics needed when engaging in piracy. 

Apparently, it’s mostly show business. You’re not too sure about how true that actually is, but Stede is your captain, and you’ve found it’s usually best to go along with whatever it is he has to say. It’s not like he’s a ruthless bastard, anyway, so there’s no harm in it if he wants to show you how to wave a gun around fancily. 

“The trick is to keep them looking where you want them to look,” Stede said conspiratorially. That much you agreed with. And it was true too, because with the way Stede was waving the gun about, it was hard to focus on anything else. 

Particularly when various parts of your body passed through the sights of the barrel every few seconds as Stede prattled on.

Then, Stede shot the gun straight up into the air, narrowly missing the mast of the ship. 

“Pay attention,” he barked, and for a split second, you could understand from the other side what it felt like to be raided. Then his face softened again into a grin. “See? All about the show of it.” 

You swallowed thickly, nodding. Sure, yeah, you were beginning to see the point he was making. 

“Right, so a bit like this, then?” You asked, getting a better grip on your own pistol and flicking it to the side haphazardly. Stede tapped the muzzle of his loaded gun against his lip and you sucked in a horrified breath. 

“Yes, like that- maybe try it one more time with a little more pizzaz, what do you reckon?” Stede replied, thankfully removing the gun away from the general vicinity of his face.

“Sure, if I don’t have a heart attack first,” you muttered to yourself. 

“Eh?” Stede asked innocently, positioning your hand where he wanted it for your next attempt. 

“Nothing,” you sighed.

[areyoudoingthis]

Stede draws the curtains shut, enclosing them in the dark, intimate space of the bed nook, anticipation running recklessly through his veins. He turns to Ed, looking up at him expectantly on the bed, the cascade of his hair loose around his shoulders and his eyes huge and vulnerable, bathed in the golden light of the fireworks the crew is setting off on deck. He could get lost in those eyes forever, swim into their depths and never come back up for air again. - Picks up right after Stede closes the bed curtains. Tender, horny sex ensues.

He draws the curtains shut, enclosing them in the dark, intimate space of the bed nook, anticipation running recklessly through his veins. He turns to Ed, looking up at him expectantly on the bed, the cascade of his hair loose around his shoulders and his eyes huge and vulnerable, bathed in the golden light of the fireworks the crew is setting off on deck. He could get lost in those eyes forever, swim into their depths and never come back up for air again.

Stede has laid awake on this same bed on countless sleepless nights, dreaming of this exact moment. Vague shapeless dreams at first, just him and Ed together in some undefined capacity. Far more real fantasies lately, since he cut off the ties that bound him to land and gentry and shed the man whose role he was suffocating having to perform.

He feels electrified, everything that happened tonight pressing against the inside of his skull with the force of a ram. The desperation of watching Ed get tortured, the satisfaction of being able to protect his crew and the man he loves, taking the irrevocable step to push Low off the plank after hearing him claim that Ed only views him as a pet and call Ed low born scum. He feels his blood boil again at the memory.

He doesn't regret doing it, is the thing. All his life the one thing he's craved is a place to belong, somewhere he's welcome, and now that he's found it, now that he has a family he can actually protect, people who depend on him, he will be fierce in ensuring the destruction of anyone that harms them.

But it's still making him feel dizzy, still brings the taste of vile to his mouth and the paralyzing memory to his mind of being called lily livered while his face was covered in blood, and feeling the word soft slice sharp like a knife against his skin.

He needs to kiss Ed, needs to press their lips back together until he can't breathe, until his head is spinning for entirely more pleasant reasons.

So he follows the instinct, plants a knee on the bed next to Ed's thigh and buries a hand in his hair, tilts his head up to kiss him and holds him tight with the other one around the back of his neck. Ed kisses back unrestrained, like maybe he wants this just as much as Stede does - and what a wonderful surprise that has been tonight. He wants to bottle up the lightening coursing through his veins and keep it around forever, to pour on his lips when he's feeling insecure about his place in the world and in this man's heart.

He breaks away from Ed's lips to trail wet, slow kisses along his neck, his shoulder, slides down the collar of his shirt out of the way until he can't reach any more skin and he has to separate from him to remove it altogether. Ed's arms go easily where Stede guides them, drape languidly around his neck to pull him close once they're free. Stede feels his heart climb into his throat, the way he did earlier when Ed nodded and drew him close into his body.

He pushes them down onto the bed, and Ed leans back without loosening his arms from around his neck, keeps kissing him the entire time. The feeling of Ed's tongue in his mouth is like a live ember burning inside him; he never wants to stop drinking him in, pulling his breath into his own lungs. He moans when he presses down more heavily onto Ed and feels the hardness in his pants firm against his thigh. This is the moment he's been alive for his whole life, why he kept waking up every morning of the miserable decades he spent stuck in a life he never wanted and not knowing Ed.

He rolls his hips against him out of instinct, and the friction of Ed's leather clad body against his cock has sparks licking like flames over his skin. He feels invincible right now, like he could take on a whole army of Ned Lows and defeat them single-handedly.

Ed is rocking against him, too, seeking the same release Stede craves. His open need makes Stede feel bold, like he could do anything, so he drags his lips down Ed's chest to his stomach, sucks open mouthed kisses against silken skin, traces the dark ink that decorates Ed's body with his tongue. He accidentally brushes against the burn mark on Ed's chest and Ed whimpers.

"Shit, sorry," he hurries to apologize.

"Not a bad feeling, mate," Ed says, a little breathless. Stede's eyes open wide, but he remembers Ed asking to be stabbed a million weeks ago, when he was still a different man that couldn't understand what was being asked of him and thought they were just playing pirates, and the way he moaned with Stede's sword stuck in his side. He brushes his lips tenderly around the wound, licks softly over it, and Ed writhes underneath him.

Stede prides himself on a rich imagination, but in his wildest fantasies he could never have pictured Ed like this, limbs loose and relaxed, lips red and kiss bitten, breath ragged, looking at him from underneath his eyelashes like there is nowhere else he'd rather be in the world.

Satisfied that he's given him what he wanted, he resumes his exploration of Ed's skin, slides his tongue down his sternum, flicks it over a nipple and is rewarded with a gasp and Ed's hand tangling in his hair, pushing him down with the barest amount of pressure. He gets the message and does it again, and then he sucks it into his mouth, and Ed's hand tightens further around his fistful of Stede's hair. The sting in his scalp feels so fucking good that he drags the nipple between his teeth to get Ed to do it again.

"Stede," Ed moans, not like he's asking for anything, more like he just wants to hold Stede's name on his lips for a while. Stede feels like he might do something embarrassing like cry at the sound, so he distracts himself by giving the same treatment to Ed's other nipple, and Ed keeps squirming against the bed, rolling his hips up fiercely to meet Stede's.

He feels like this is more than he ever wanted and nowhere near enough, like he's feasting and starving at once. He goes back to mapping Ed's tattoos with his lips, follows the lovely trail of silvery black hair down his stomach to the waistline of his pants, keeps going as far as he can.

"Can I take these off?" he asks, when he can't push the unyielding leather any further.

"Yeah," Ed concedes, like a gift.

His fingers tremble slightly as he undoes the buttons. It takes him longer than it should to get them open, but it's not like they have anywhere else to be. The crew are still partying above deck, he can hear singing and what he assumes is more dancing now that the roar of the fireworks has ceased. He feels sorry he didn't get to dance with Ed before they were interrupted, but he supposes this could count as dancing, too. A dance just for the two of them, with steps they decide and to whatever rhythm they choose.

Finally, he manages to get Ed's buttons open, and he hesitates for a second before he reminds himself that Ed offered, he nodded and kissed Stede back, pulled him into his body like he meant to keep him.

He hooks his hands on the waistband and pulls, and then Ed's cock is free before him, long and dark and already full, all for him.

"Can I taste you?" he chases another impulse. He's never done this before, knows the act exists from literature and living on a pirate ship with a crew that enjoys having sex in every random corner they can find. But the need to have Ed in his mouth is overwhelming, short circuits his brain and keeps him suspended in midair until Ed replies.

"You can do whatever you want, Stede."

Oh, how he loves him. The whole firmament has lodged itself inside Stede's chest, burning bright and incandescent.

He removes Ed's trousers all the way, discards them with a heavy thud of leather and metal on the floor, and kneels between his legs on the bed. He keeps eye contact with Ed the whole time as he sinks down and kisses his soft thighs, first one, then the other, sucks red and purple blooms into his skin. Ed groans and thrashes his head against the pillow.

His legs are also dotted with tattoos, and Stede makes plans to spend an entire day memorizing every drawing on Ed's skin sometime, in bright sunlight so he can admire them properly. He runs a hand from Ed's ankle to his thigh, loving the drag of coarse hair against the pads of his fingers. Ed watches him a little transfixed, like maybe he's worried that Stede will disappear if he looks away. Stede needs to reassure him that he's not going anywhere, that this is where he wants to be for the rest of his life.

He presses his nose into Ed's pubic hair, inhales him deeply and feels his head swim with the reality of what they're doing, of the man in the bed beneath him, the cock pressing against his cheek. Ed is so very solid here next to him - they're having sex for the first time, his first time with a man, with someone he truly desires and who desires him back. His chest expands and floods with starlight.

He rubs his cheek against the soft skin of Ed's thigh, savoring the moment, fists the fingers of his right hand around Ed's shaft and strokes it delicately, still a little awed that he gets to do this. He guides Ed's cock towards his mouth and finally, finally, wraps his lips around it. Ed bucks against the mattress and Stede chokes a little, more out of surprise than anything else.

"Sorry, sorry," Ed apologizes. "Didn't expect it'd feel like that, mate, sorry."

Now what on earth does he mean by that.

"Did I do something wrong?"

The look Ed gives him can only be described as fond, bottomlessly so.

"No, 's just intense, 's all."

"Oh."

"Oh," Ed agrees.

Well, then. He can certainly understand the sentiment. His own dick is straining uncomfortably against his pants, which he still hasn't taken off. Leather isn't the most comfortable fabric, he's beginning to realize. He's incredibly turned on, too, is the point, and every one of his senses feels heightened to an almost overwhelming degree.

"Is it okay if I-"

"Yeah, yeah, you can."

"Okay." He feels like giggling, like his lungs are full of helium instead of oxygen.

He leans back over Ed's cock and sucks it between his lips, takes the head into his mouth and lets it sit on his tongue for a second, getting used to the stretch and the taste and the weight of it.

He decides that having a cock in his mouth is profoundly satisfying, after all. In all his late night fantasies he never dreamed it could be like this, the rush of bringing Ed pleasure, of using the soft parts of himself to make the man he loves feel good. He's been hard since he pushed Ed into the wall and poured all his wild need into his mouth, and he feels himself grow impossibly harder at this realization. Tonight is a night of epiphanies, it seems.

Having determined that he likes this rather a lot, actually, he starts bobbing his head up and down on Ed's cock, testing how deep he can take him, listening to his groans and gasps of pleasure for clues about what works best, what makes him whimper and hitch his hips in tiny movements, trying to keep himself from bucking into Stede's mouth again.

He hopes his eagerness is making up for his lack of experience as he drools messily all over Ed's shaft and down his own chin. The way Ed moans loudly when he slides his tongue from root to tip and licks at the head makes the butterflies in his chest hope that it is. He builds a steady rhythm, breathes through his nose and takes him in as deep as he can, endlessly hungry for him. He loses himself in the act for minutes, hours, maybe, until Ed's voice brings him back to himself.

"Stede, fuck," Ed pants. "If you were planning on this going anywhere else tonight, ya're gonna have to stop that. Not that young anymore, mate. Two in a row might be too much to ask for."

His brain scrambles to a stop, and he sits unmoving with Ed's cock in his mouth for a moment. He hasn't been thinking more than two seconds ahead all night, running on instinct and adrenaline and hunger. But if he's honest with himself, he knows where he's wanted to take this since he grabbed Ed by the lapels of his jacket and Ed kissed back desperately.

He pulls off Ed's cock and stares at him, chest heaving, heart beating like a hummingbird's wings inside it.

"Can I fuck you?"

Hasn't this entire night been about asking for what he wants, heeding the hunger that's been gnawing at his insides his whole life, after all? Might as well go for broke.

"Already told ya, you can do anything you want." Stede's owned land and rich fabrics and books and shiny trinkets in the thousands, but nothing has ever compared to Ed offering himself to him like this, trusting and hopeful.

He takes a minute to breathe deeply and calm his mind before he stands up from the bed and removes his trousers. They've undressed in front of each other before, but that was chaste and they'd both turned around while the other got dressed. Stede was still half dead and feverish from a wound to the stomach that day.

This time it's intentional, and a prelude to something more, something he's dreamed about for months, for his entire life, perhaps. Ed has his head turned on the pillow and is watching him hungrily, cheeks rosy, skin shining with sweat, legs still spread out for Stede. The reality is infinitely better than any fantasy he's ever had.

He returns to the bed, kneels between Ed's thighs once more. This is the only home he needs now; he's glad he left every tie he ever had behind so he can nest himself here and stay for good. He doesn't know where to begin, loses his train of thought for a few seconds. Ed gazes at him patently, grants him time to adjust.

"Do you have any oil?" he gifts him a lifeline, as if he hasn't given Stede enough tonight already.

"I- yes." Why is this the thing that's making him blush - he had Ed's dick in his mouth a few minutes ago. He shakes himself and leans over Ed to reach around between the mattress and the window, fishes out the flask that he's kept there for a couple of days. The reason why it's there makes his brain burn even brighter. He has wanted this, and now it's happening.

Ed takes the bottle from him, sets it down on the sheets and holds his fingers gently in his hands to pull the rings off of them one by one, unhurriedly. They clatter against the windowsill when he sets them down, and the sound gets burned in Stede's brain with the weight of an anchor holding him safely in place. Once he's done divesting him of his rings, Ed picks the oil back up and holds Stede's hand in his, pulls off the stopper and pours some of the liquid on the pads of his fingers, where it sits like an offering at an altar.

Stede swallows the lump in his throat, brushes the hair off Ed's face, caresses his temple, his cheekbone, his jaw, runs his thumb over his bottom lip, tenderness welling up inside him and flooding through his skin. Ed takes advantage of his stillness to suck Stede's finger into his mouth, and Stede almost dies then and there. Ed's tongue laves around his finger, and Stede moans brokenly and kisses him, almost forgets that his hand is covered in oil and makes a mess of Ed's skin.

He gazes with naked adoration at Ed as he rubs the oil between his index and middle fingers, coating them thoroughly in it, then braces himself with one arm next to Ed's head, infinitely sorry to have to pull his finger out of his mouth.

He reaches between Ed's legs with his other hand, strokes softly down his balls and his perineum until he reaches his entrance. The next step sends his heart into disarray. He rubs a finger in slow circles against Ed's hole until Ed is whimpering and shaking again, and then he adds a little more pressure to his movements and he's sinking inside him, heat enveloping his finger and his mind. It's tight, and impossibly warm, and doing this feels like nothing's ever felt in Stede's entire life. No rush has ever compared to this, not piracy nor faking his death to chase his freedom.

He moves his finger tentatively in and out, and the way Ed moans his name knocks the breath out of his lungs and has pride crashing inside him like waves in the surf. He does it again, builds a slow, unhurried rhythm. Ed's pants and praises fill the air around them, in this otherwise quiet and secluded spot where only the two of them exist. He adds a second finger when he feels the first one start to glide easily inside him, and Ed's body welcomes it eagerly.

He's enchanted by the sight of Ed in this moment. He looks so lovely and relaxed, Stede's never seen anything more beautiful - no painting or sunset or starry sky could compare. His skin is flushed, his chest rises up and down like butterfly's wings, his skin shines, his eyes are scrunched in pleasure and his hair is an untamed mess around him from the way he keeps tossing his head against the pillow. He wants to press the image of Ed's shameless hunger between the pages of a book and preserve it forever.

He mutters nonsensical praises at him, driving his fingers into him relentlessly, loving the pressure and the feverish warmth of his hole around his fingers. He's high on the way Ed reacts as he strokes inside him, the sounds that pour ceaselessly from his lips, the way his body can't stop shaking uncontrollably, like he wants to climb out of his own skin from how good it feels. He could to this for the rest of his life and never tire of it. His cock his leaking against his stomach, balls tight with need, but none of it matters more than touching Ed like this.

"Stede," Ed whines.

"Yes?"

"Try curling your fingers." The words spark inside Stede's mind like fireworks.

He crooks his fingers experimentally inside Ed as he asked, and Ed's hips shoot of the bed as his hands fist on the sheets, pleas for more pouring from his lips and washing over Stede like summer sunlight. He will gladly spend the rest of his life giving him anything he wants. He has to kiss him, take those sounds into his mouth and drink them in. He leans down, licks his tongue against Ed's lips, and Ed's mouth opens up for him like the rest of his body is opening around Stede's fingers.

He pours all his love into Ed's mouth, breathes hotly against him as their tongues slide wetly together.

"More, please, need you," the words drop from Ed's lips like fireflies in the dark.

Everything, anything. A third finger joins the first two as they slide in and out of Ed's hole, press against the spot that makes him scream. Ed's legs come up to wrap around his waist, holding him tight against his body like he's been doing all night. Stede feels tethered to him; he's never had a place where he belonged, but he belongs with Ed like this, joined from head to toe, wrapped around each other like two people who are meant to be together.

He digs his knuckles deep inside him, longing to get even closer. Ed writhes desperately between the mattress and his body, all fire and hunger, slides his arms around Stede's shoulders and holds on. Flames skid down Stede's skin, and he thrusts his fingers faster, overcome by a need that obliterates any tentativeness he felt. Time stretches infinite between them, eons pass as he gets Ed's body ready for him.

"Stede, fuck me, please. I'm ready," Ed begs, ravenous.

Heat blooms in Stede's chest, sparks down his spine and shoots straight to his cock at the way Ed's voice breaks asking for him.

He separates from Ed only long enough to pour more oil on his fingers, mindful of this body he loves and everything they went through earlier. The pleasure when he fists a hand around his cock to get it slick makes him shiver. He wants to be inside Ed so urgently, needs to feel him under him and around him and in every crevice of his being.

He positions himself and takes a deep steadying breath. Their eyes are locked on each other's again, unable to look away. He grips his cock and guides it towards Ed's hole, presses in slowly. The moment he breeches him Stede feels like he dies and is born again a thousand times, the man he was and the man he is and the man he will become all infinitely in love with Ed, forever.

He pushes in inch by inch, needing to take it slow and feeling like Ed does, too, from the way he's looking at him with hooded eyes, neck taught and fingers clenching on the soft fabric of the sheets beneath them.

He bends to lick a stripe up his neck, tempted by the way it's calling to him. Ed takes advantage of the position to cling to him, legs going around his hips again and skin sticking together with sweat.

When he's finally fully seated inside Ed's body, he pauses and gazes at him, expectant. The pressure is exquisite, like being wrapped in warm flames that can't hurt him. Ed swallows visibly, then nods his head again, inviting Stede to move inside him like he invited him into his mouth at the beginning of the night.

Stede feels split wide open, affection and passion flowing through him and pouring out his of every pore into Ed's body. The "I love yous" gather in his throat and threaten to choke him, but he holds them back because Ed said he wasn't ready to hear them and Stede wouldn't betray his trust like that. He tries to say it with his body instead, peppers tender kisses all over his skin, presses his forehead against his heart and hopes he understands that he's making love to him with everything but his words.

Ed's heels dig against the meat of his ass, his cock slides damp against his stomach as their bodies rock together like a ship in the open ocean. There's a thunderstorm breaking inside Stede, loud and devastating, and he doesn't know what will be left standing in its wake. Moving inside Ed is like lightning and fire and starlight, like every force of nature has gathered here between their flesh. He rocks his hips in slow, deep thrusts, trying to memorize the exact way Ed's body clenches around his cock.

Ed mutters breathless encouragements as he thrusts up to meet him, the push and pull of their bodies ferocious like the sea at high tide. Stede's enveloped in heat, Ed's beautiful body and lovely skin and gorgeous hair and the sweetest brown eyes he's ever seen all that exists for him. He wants to stay like this forever, buried inside him and plastered to him, pleasure coursing back and forth between them like life giving breath.

He brushes the hair off Ed's damp forehead and goes back in for his mouth. Ed bites his lower lip and Stede gasps, breath ragged and head spinning; he feels raw and torn apart. He reaches down and clasps Ed's fingers between his, rests their joined hands on the pillow next to Ed's head, anchoring them together to survive the storm. There are tears welling in his eyes again, and Ed kisses them tenderly, buries his fingers in Stede's hair and claims his lips in a deep kiss.

Pleasures builds deep inside him as his cock drags hotly inside ed, threatening to pull him under. He picks up the rhythm, drives into him again and again as they hold onto each other and gasp heatedly into one another's mouths. He adjusts the angle of his hips on his next thrust and Ed's fingernails rake down his back, leaving a trail of burning embers in their wake.

"Stede," he moans brokenly, and electricity shoots along Stede's spine like he's been shocked. He does it again, frenzied to hear Ed's voice utter his name drenched in need like that over and over.

Ed cries out, grips Stede's arm tight enough to bruise, and Stede will wear the lovely shades of purple on his skin proudly, a mark of their passion to match the ones he left on Ed's thighs earlier.

"That's it, hold onto me. Let me give you what you need." He needs to take care of him so very desperately.

His hand leaves Ed's to wrap around his cock, dragging his fingers through the slick collected on his stomach to ease the slide, and Ed squirms and moans out loud, unraveled beneath him. Stede's starting to lose himself to the blaze sparking dangerously between them, swims in molten lava as Ed cries out his name and begs him to go faster.

He snaps his hips harder, matching his intensity bit by bit. The desire to give Ed pleasure supersedes everything else in Stede's mind. He needs to hear him scream in ecstasy and witness what he looks like in the throes of passion, with all his walls down and moaning Stede's name, begging him for more, harder, faster.

He moves at a feverish pace inside him, pulls out and slams back into him at the angle that makes Ed scream, as he fists Ed's cock tightly in his hand, trying all he things he likes on himself and hoping Ed enjoys them too.

It's blinding, all this feeling, like staring directly into the sun for too long. He feels a chasm open up inside him that may never be fully filled, an aching hunger for Ed that can never be satiated.

"I'm so close stede - fuuck - please, please!" Ed begs incoherently. And Stede cries out from how intense the pleasure of being connected with him like this is, moans praises into Ed's skin and chases both their releases as best as he can.

"It's okay, Ed, it's okay, I've got you. Wanna make you feel so good."

"You - ah, right there! - you already are."

Stede feels his orgasm building and building for an impossibly long time, high on the way they're joined and the hot flesh underneath him and having sex for the first time in his life in a way that is actually enjoyable.

Ed is groaning and whimpering brokenly, urging Stede on with his ankles around his ass and rocking back and forth between his dick in his hole and the tight fist on his cock. He's beyond beautiful lost in his pleasure, and Stede wants this to be the event that marks every one of his days. This is what he ran off to sea for, freedom and Ed and a love they can build together one day at a time.

Ed pulls him down towards his chest again, and Stede buries his face in his neck and bites down softly on tender skin, needing a release for the euphoria he's feeling.

Ed's hips shoot off the bed when his teeth close around his skin and he's coming in endless stripes between them, painting his and Stede's stomachs with his spend.

"Ed, oh my god, fuck I'm gonna-"

"Come on, Stede, come for me."

And it's the words and how ragged and stripped raw they sound that push him over the edge, into a bottomless ocean of Ed and pleasure and heat. He loses track of the next few minutes, as he empties himself inside Ed and collapses in a useless heap of leaden limbs on top of him.

Ed runs his hands softly through his hair, down his shoulders, his arms, offering grounding touches that Stede is grateful for while he struggles to remember where up and down are, wrung out and trying to get to shore.

He breathes heavily into Ed's chest until his lungs stop feeling like they're full of coals, kisses his heart tenderly and tries to pour all his love into him so he will know how important tonight has been for him.

"Was that good?" he asks shyly when he can finally look up at him again.

Ed chuckles.

"Mate, I just came my brains out, what do ya think? I think you finally finished fixing my lower back."

Stede laughs, drunk on love and Ed, and beams at him, pleased that he accomplished what he set out to do and made Ed feel good after a decidedly unpleasant evening.

"You're gonna need to move at some point, ya little blond barnacle. We're gonna get stuck together if we don't clean up," Ed says after a while of lying pressed together. That doesn't sound like the worst thing to him.

Stede feels like he should be offended at being compared to a barnacle, but he can't find it in himself to care. He would cling to Ed for the rest of his days if he was allowed, so it's not like it's a lie.

He reluctantly rolls over to lie next to him on the bed instead of on top of him, and winces a little at the stickiness. Sex was never this messy for him before, but he could grow to love this part, too, the evidence of how much they both enjoyed what happened between them.

He's floating high above his body, thinks he might easily get addicted to sex with Ed if he's allowed, if it always feels like this, like warmth and joy and shared passion.

Ed pushes off the bed and gets up, and Stede's brain panics a little. He wants to hold him all night, wake up tangled together on soft sheets in the morning.

Ed must notice something in his face because he leans down to plant a soft kiss on his lips and says "Just going to fetch something to clean up with, 'kay? Be right back."

Stede relaxes back into the comfortable bed, watches Ed walk away without a stitch of clothing on with undisguised lust, and then decides to try and get the sheets back into some kind of order before he returns so they can actually sleep here tonight.

He's lying languidly back on tidier sheets, body liquid and mind at ease, when Ed returns with a soft wet cloth and kneels down next to him to wipe off the come from his stomach, then tenderly swipes it over his spent cock. Stede shivers at the overstimulation. The gentle care Ed is showing him is almost as intoxicating as the sex was.

Once he's satisfied with his work, Ed throws the rag on the floor next to their discarded clothes and climbs back into bed with him. Stede opens his arms for him, invites him to be held like Ed's been inviting him into his body all night.

Ed goes easily, tucks his head under Stede's chin and throws a leg over his to pull him closer. Stede wraps his arms around him happily, settles him comfortably with his weight resting half on top of him. The world has never been a better place than it is tonight.

He combs his fingers slowly through Ed's hair, the urge to touch him no less consuming after what they shared. Ed hums contented little noises against his skin, goes boneless in his arms.

His eyelids start to droop and he wants to say all the things Ed isn't ready to hear. I love you. I'm yours. Stay with me forever.

They will have time. The world is theirs for the taking, they can go at whatever pace Ed needs.

"Sweet dreams, Ed," is what he settles for instead.

"Night, Stede," Ed whispers back.

He falls asleep listening to Ed's soft breaths in the quiet room.

[our-death-means-flag]

izzy hands x reader with enemies to lovers. that’s it. that’s the ask. im so in love w that angy little man

Bonding Under Duress

Ship: Izzy Hands x Reader  Summary: Stede really wants the crew to get along or at the very least tolerate each other. Unfortunately that includes you and Izzy. So the two of you get sent on an errand for the captains with the actual goal of the two of you getting to know each other. A storm has other plans and you and Izzy learn much more than you wanted to about each other… Warnings: minor descriptions of injury, Izzy being very mean to himself, angst, hurt/comfort

“Absolutely fockin’ not!”

“As much as I hate to agree with that asshole, no.”

For once you and Izzy agreed on something, both of you glaring at each other when you realized.

Stede wilted. You immediately felt the urge to comfort him. “Captain, I’m not trying to question your judgment here, but really, no. There’s no need for this.” You reassured.

Izzy scoffed, rolling his eyes. “Fockin’ ridiculous…” He grumbled under his breath. “I don’t take orders from you, you posh twat.” He snapped at Stede.

You immediately shot him a deathly glare. “God, you're predictable. Get some new material or just shut the fuck up.” 

“Hey now, both of you. I’m not asking.” Stede puffed his chest out a tad. “It’s an order from your captain. I’m not expecting you two to become best friends or anything. All you need to do is go on that island and bring back some peaches! Shouldn't take more than a couple of hours and who knows, you may learn something about each other.” Stede seemed very optimistic. 

You sighed, already nodding, well aware of how far Stede was willing to go for an idea like this.

Izzy seemed to be about to protest when Ed leaned in. “An order from both of your captains actually!” He chimed in.

“Edward…” Izzy all but whined.

“Izzy.” Edward echoed, even mockingly copying Izzy’s whiny tone.

You watched as Izzy’s face flushed every shade of red, though whether it was rage or embarrassment or maybe both, you couldn’t tell. You bit your lip to keep yourself from laughing.  Izzy must have noticed since that seemed to set him off. “Oh fuck off. I’m not going to some stupid fockin’  island to get some stupid fockin’ peaches with this stupid fockin’-

“Bye! See you in a few hours! Have fun, you two!” Ed yelled cheerfully as he was towed away.  

You waved while watching Izzy in your peripheral vision. The bastard looked furious. So much so that he was practically vibrating with rage. Then again he had been thrown over Ed’s shoulder like a bag of potatoes and all but dragged here. 

“So…” You finally asked, drawing the word out, on guard in case he decided to bite you. “Let’s go find some stupid fockin’ peaches, eh?” You couldn’t manage to mimic Izzy’s voice but if you said so yourself, your ‘fock’ was pretty accurate.

Izzy snarled. “Piss off. We’re not working together. I’m going one way and you go the other.” He turned on his heels and stormed closer to the edge of the forested part of the island. You merely waited. He paused, deep in thought, glanced one way, then the other and then seemingly realized what you already knew.

You, of course, decided to rub it in. “I sure won’t stop you if that’s what you want. But I’d recommend against it. Not only is it against captains’ orders but when was the last time you did any navigating on land?” Izzy seethed and you grinned. “Also I have all the stuff, since rather than acting like a feral dog, I actually packed so… again, all your call of course.”

Izzy very obviously considered running off on his own if just to spite you but instead he turned quickly and stormed up to you. “Fine. You’re right.” He said it like the words burned his throat. “But I swear if you get us lost-“

“Yes, yes, I know, you’ll maim me and/or kill me in some creatively brutal and violent fashion.” You waved a hand dismissively. Deciding to go further you added. “Which you and I both know you won’t do since that’d piss off the captains.” You knew you shouldn’t keep teasing but you enjoyed watching Izzy turn red.

With a seething Izzy following you, you started trekking into the forest. Luckily you’d come prepared and had brought along your wide knife to cut through the foliage. The terrain of the island wasn’t quite the same as the ones you’d been on before but it was close enough.

The two of you walked mostly in silence with you occasionally warning about upcoming hazards in your path. You easily navigated the uneven terrain but Izzy had significantly more difficulty. Probably because he was used to a ship. As much as a ship swaying could mess up your balance, it was not comparable to uneven weird terrain like this. 

The first few times you’d chimed in with a “careful” or “watch your step” Izzy had snarled back at you to “Fuck off”. But after nearly falling on his ass a few times, he started to take your warnings more seriously.

(Honestly you deserved sainthood for not laughing until your lungs failed every time he almost fell. Especially since he’d always flail and pinwheel his arms to keep steady.  Something made even funnier by the fact that he was unharmed beside his ego.)

Luckily for both Izzy and your composure, you managed to track down the peach tree quickly enough. As you clambered up the tree and gathered up the requested fruit, Izzy stood around looking woefully out of place. 

You really were trying to work on Stede’s ridiculous bonding plan but you couldn’t resist and pelted Izzy with a peach. You nailed him dead center in the chest. He jumped clearly not having expected the sudden fruit attack but somehow his reaction time was quick enough to catch the peach as it bounced off his chest. He shot you a glare which you returned with a smile. Izzy tossed the peach in his hand, clearly silently considering throwing it back at you. However you simply motioned with the extra bag you’d brought which was currently full of peaches, making it readily apparent that you would in fact, return fire and that you had much more ammo. He backed off.

You climbed down from the tree and just as you were sorting yourself out…

BONK.

A peach contacted the side of your head. You spun to face Izzy and he had the gall to look confused and  innocent despite the fact that he clearly no longer had a peach in hand. You couldn’t help but smirk as you ducked down to pick up the peach and as you were standing up (but before you fully did) you threw it at him.

It just kept going that way as the two of you walked back. The peach being tossed back and forth with varied strength. Whether or not it was possible to break someone’s nose with a peach, Izzy sure as hell was trying to. Hell he’d nearly succeeded throwing the peach so hard you nearly hit yourself in the face with your own hand just from catching it. You on the other hand, had a simpler goal, you wanted to land it on his head. Izzy seemed to assume that you were aiming for his face so his defenses were focused there instead. You were certain you could land it before the two of you made it to the beach but you didn’t get the chance.

You noticed first. Izzy seemed really uncomfortable on land so that’s probably why he missed it. However you’d thought the air felt off all day. But it was only when the first thunder crack pierced the mostly quiet area that you realized that the off-ness you were feeling was the same way you’d feel before a storm.

Izzy had been mid throw when it happened. The peach hit you in the leg and was instantly forgotten as his attention immediately darted towards where you knew the shore was, doubtlessly worrying about Ed. “We have to get to the Revenge.” 

Izzy looked genuinely concerned so you didn’t give a snarky answer. “We can’t. There’s no way they can get a dingy out in what’s about to be a storm.” Your words were immediately emphasized when rain started pouring down. “We can’t make it back now. Let’s find somewhere to hunker down and get back when the storm passes.” Izzy still looked moments away from booking it back to the ship. “Ed, Fang, and Ivan are all on that ship. You don’t have to trust anyone else, just trust that they can handle it. Don’t risk making them worry about us on top of managing the ship.” 

Izzy cursed under his breath as he visibly struggled with the choice but luckily your logic won him over and you didn’t have to drag him. “Fine.” He hissed the word out harsher than any curse word. 

The storm hadn’t been gracious enough to give the two of you any time to talk and the wind and rain was already getting stronger. Despite just having had to talk Izzy out of this exact thing, you couldn’t help but worry about the Revenge. The island was pretty much all tall mountains, you doubted that your crew had gotten much warning. But you had to accept your own logic. They’d handle it. You could trust Ed and Stede to keep the ship safe (admittedly mostly the former).

The wind and rain made traversing the nasty terrain even more difficult than it had been before. The wind knocked you off balance and the rain made the ground slippery. The warm day you’d been having moments ago had vanished, the rain coupled with the wind made you nearly shiver. Despite the cold, you couldn’t run for cover. You had to painstakingly walk carefully to avoid falling.

After you got dangerously close to losing your balance at the edge of a small valley, you decided to reach out a hand to Izzy since you could tell he was struggling. His frantic stumbling was significantly less funny when he was actually in danger. Of course, Izzy didn’t appreciate your offer. You took it as a testament of how much you’d seen Izzy swear that even over the deafening roaring wind, you could tell he was telling you to “Fuck off”.

You could feel the mud under your boots shifting and you were incredibly worried about it giving out in a mudslide so you tried your damndest to move as quickly as possible. You nearly fell when your boot slipped out from under you. If the wind wasn’t so goddamn loud, Izzy might have actually heard your warning. But the sound of your voice was easily overpowered by the wind.  

Then the ground gave out from under both of you. You just barely had the time to launch yourself backwards, slamming none too gently into a tree for your troubles. Izzy wasn’t so lucky. You were immediately back on your feet and spotted him lying at the bottom of the small valley.

“Izzy?” You called out as loudly as you could. No reply. He didn’t so much as stir. Even if he hadn’t heard you, you doubted Izzy would just lay on the ground. “Shit.” You mumbled under your breath and quickly as you could, you made your way down, none too gracefully. You were at his side shockingly fast. Izzy was a little banged up but he was breathing thankfully, though it looked like he’d hit his head. He was out cold. “Well, shit.” You mumbled to yourself.

You ducked down and were able to carefully maneuver Izzy into your arms. For such a small man, he was shockingly heavy. But the universe did give you a bit of mercy when you spotted a small cave, looking to be most protected from the storm. You managed to drag the two of you inside. You put both Izzy and the bag of peaches down and dropped down to the ground, exhausted. Even though you were out of the wind in the rain, you were still soaked and you were still freezing. You forced  yourself to get back up. 

Luckily, the wind blew quite a few sticks further into the cave so you weren’t stuck trying to build a fire with wet tinder. Cold and uncomfortable as you were, it was incredibly difficult to be patient enough to slowly grow the fire but your dedication paid off. Before long You were basking in the warmth of a newly made fine.

You pulled off your overcoat which, while completely soaked, had protected most of your clothes. Izzy had given you shit about it, how a long coat wasn’t practical in the Caribbean (ironic, coming from a man in leather pants and a leather vest). 

Despite what you wanted to do you knew you couldn’t just sit by the fire. You had  to take care of Izzy as well. You dragged yourself up and knelt down by Izzy. He had a small cut on the back of his head but luckily it didn’t seem to be that bad. You didn’t hesitate to tear off one of your sleeves to wrap it up. You pulled Izzy as close to the fire as you dared but he was still shivering a little. You managed to pull him up so you could start the daunting task of getting him out of his vest and shirt. His vest was pretty easy but his shirt was completely soaked and probably responsible for sapping a lot of his body heat. 

As you untied his cravat you noticed the ring around it. You’d spotted the ring before (gotten a pretty close look when Izzy decided he needed to get into your face to yell at you). He always wore it. It was clearly important to him so you didn’t want to just set it aside and risk it getting lost, so instead you slipped it into one of your pockets. At least it would be safe there until Izzy was conscious enough to not lose it.

You had to rest his head on your shoulder so you could wrestle his dead weight out of his shirt. ‘Please don’t wake up right now. Please don’t wake up right now, ‘ you silently begged the universe, because, while you usually followed Stede’s ‘talk it through’ method, that was a conversation that you didn’t want to have. Luckily for once in this dumpster fire of a day, you at least got that and Izzy stayed unconscious. 

You definitely did not glance at his chest, taking in the mix of scars and tattoos that you’d never seen before. And it definitely didn’t look incredibly attractive on him. Not at all.Your jacket was dry at that point so you laid it over Izzy as a makeshift blanket. You considered taking his sword since you didn’t want to get stabbed on instinct when he woke up, but you also figured he’d probably feel better if he had it with him. 

You crumpled against the opposite wall of the cave and basked in the warmth of the fire. Since you were the only one who was conscious, you had watch duty by default. You glanced at Izzy. Hopefully he’d wake up soon. You doubted you could carry him back to the dingy and leaving him behind so you could get someone to help you made you incredibly nervous. 

It was strange to see him so calm. With his face so relaxed and your sleeve wrapped around his head, he looked like a completely different person. You let yourself stare at him for a moment before focusing on something else. Luckily your bag full of peaches was within arm’s reach. Quite a few of them had been crushed or otherwise mangled by the rough journey but you managed to find one that was mostly intact.

At least you had snacks…

---

It wasn’t easy to gauge the passage of time in a cave but you’d have to guess it had been around an hour. You’d had to go grab more twigs and tinder for the fire and the rain seemed to be slowing. That was something at least. Looked like the storm was going to stop soon. Then you’d have to figure out how to get Izzy and yourself back to the Revenge. 

Before you could worry about that a low raspy groan caught your attention. Izzy was waking up… He immediately grabbed at his head, hand going for the injury at the back of his head. 

“Careful!” You said, more on instinct than anything else.

His eyes immediately darted to you and after a brief moment where he seemed to take in his surroundings, he immediately drew his sword and pointed it at you and skittered away as best he could until his back hit the wall. His whole body seemed shaky and uncertain, the hand holding the sword was trembling.

You held your hands up in slight surrender, not wanting to freak him out any more than you already had. “Well, good morning to you too…” you managed, voice shaking slightly with an awkward chuckle. He stared longer. Not knowing what to do, you cracked a joke to ease the tension. “I know, the one sleeve thing looks great on Ed but it sure looks stupid on me eh?” You motioned with your bare arm for emphasis.

“What the fuck…?” He managed to hiss out, he looked genuinely confused.

You furrowed your brow. “Do you remember what happened?” You weren’t a doctor by any means but memory loss could happen with head injuries.

“I…” Izzy managed. He lowered his sword and clutched at his head. “I fell?” He mused, more to himself before a look of clarity passed over him and he hissed out “stupid fockin Stede Bonnet. Stupid fockin peaches.” 

You breathed a sigh of relief, if he was pissed off, then that was back to the status quo for Izzy. “So you definitely remember then. How’s your head?”

“How the hell do you think it is? It fuckin’ hurts.” He snapped at you. He glanced around getting a proper look at your surroundings. “What the fuck happened?”

Glad that he seemed more calm and had stopped pointing a sword at you, you explain what happened: how he’d  fell, how you’d dragged him here. When you reached the part where you’d taken his shirt off, he’d immediately looked down and seemingly realized that he was in fact, not wearing a shirt. He pulled your jacket up to cover himself more, looking almost comically like a blushing lady. 

“Why the fuck?” He immediately snarled at you.

You rolled your eyes. “Because it was soaking wet and you were shivering? You would’ve frozen your damn tits off if I hadn’t.”

He looked like he was moments away from snapping at you when he stopped himself and his hand immediately shot to his throat. Before he could say anything you jumped in, well aware of what he was about to ask. “I have it, don’t worry.” You patted the ring in your pocket. Izzy stared at you almost nervously. You probably would’ve teased him at any other time but you could tell he was genuinely concerned, so you didn’t. 

You stood slowly and walked around the fire, choreographing your movements as not to take him by surprise. “Here,” you said as you gently placed the ring in his hand. He clutched it tightly to his chest, one hand clutching his ring and the other toying with the fabric of your coat. You sat back down and leaned against the wall of the cave.

You expected Izzy to break the silence with an insult or a sarcastic comment, instead you got a soft, shaky, “Why?”

“You wear that ring all the time. It’s clearly important to you and I didn’t want it to roll away or get lost or  something. I-“

“Not the ring.” Izzy interrupted. You raised a brow. “This.” He motioned at himself and the cave around the two of you. “All of this.”

You didn’t expect to somehow get more confused after his explanation. “What do you mean by ‘this’? I mean, sure a cave ain’t all that cozy but it got us out of the storm…. Besides-“

“No!” Izzy snapped, clearly furious. You immediately shut up, not sure what to do. He luckily didn’t raise his sword at you but he leveled a finger pointing at you accusingly. “Why did you do any of this?”

You furrowed your brows, trying to figure out what he meant. “Uh, you know that if I’d left you back there, you could’ve died?”  

He nodded as you thought he might get it then he spoke again. “You hate me.” He said it so matter-of-factly, as if it were just a given, a fact of the world.

You blinked. The pieces clicked together. “I don’t hate you.” You explained softly. Izzy scoffed, disbelief clear on his face. “No, I’m being honest. I don’t hate you. Granted  you can be a fucking asshole. But, I only give you shit because you give my crew shit. I don’t hate you. And even if I did I sure as hell wouldn’t have left you for dead.”

Had he really expected you to just leave him there? 

“Wait…” Though, that did raise a concerning question… “Are you telling me that you would have left me?”

Izzy rolled his eyes. “Of course not. You’re one of few people on that ship that knows what they’re doing. Besides, even if I wanted to, the crew wouldn’t believe me.  Even if it was an accident, they’d all assume I killed you. But they actually like you. Even the captains. You could come back drenched in my blood and they’d still believe whatever you said.” Izzy chuckled humorlessly.

You stared, too stunned to speak. Suddenly, you felt awful about teasing him before. No wonder he was so incredibly hostile if he thought you could murder him and get away with it, that you hated him enough to do it. You buried your face in your hands. “Damn it, I’m so sorry.”

“Why?” You glanced up to see Izzy was staring at you, confusion clear on his face. 

You hesitated, trying to figure out how best to phrase it so it wouldn’t sound patronizing. “I’m so sorry for anything I did that made you feel like you weren’t safe with me. I doubt my words mean much but, I really wasn’t going to do anything more than tease… or hit you with a peach… Sorry about that too.”

His expression only got more confused. You watched as he went from confused to a little scared then immediately to annoyed. “Don’t pretend to care!” He snapped. “If you're planning on lowering my guard for some later attack, it wont work.”

 The ‘it won’t work this time’ was implied. Sure, you hadn’t been a pirate all that long, but you certainly knew how awful people could be. You couldn’t help but wonder about Izzy’s scars. Had he gotten any of them from crew members who hated him? Just waiting for a moment of vulnerability to pounce. 

Izzy Hands was making far too much sense for you all of a sudden. 

“That’s happened before?”

Izzy all but growled at you for that then he actually looked at you. He seemed surprised by whatever he saw. “Of course.” He replied, again his voice matter-of-fact as if that was somehow supposed to make sense. 

 But you were undeterred. “That may be how some people are… But you’ve made it pretty clear how soft and pathetic the Revenge Crew is.” He didn’t seem convinced. “If I really wanted to do something like that, we literally would not be having this conversation right now!” You emphasized. 

“Unless you want something from me.” Izzy snapped immediately.

“Well, I don’t. Not really. You don’t really have to believe me. But I’m not going to hold this over your head. Really, I would've done the exact same thing if anyone else got hurt.” 

Izzy stared at you, eyebrow raised. After a long moment, he huffed and broke eye contact. “I can’t understand you…”

You sighed. It seems like the two of you got completely opposite things from this. You could finally understand at least in part why Izzy was like that, while he was completely baffled by you. You were saved from the uncomfortable silence by noticing that the rain had finally subsided. “Ah, the rain’s gone. Finally, we can get back to the ship.”

---

Izzy watched, pensive, as you stood and stretched, grabbing the bag filled with those stupid fockin peaches, carefully putting out the fire and generally cleaning up. He couldn’t help but notice your bare arm, the one whose sleeve was currently wrapped around his head. 

“Oh, here!” You tossed him his vest, shirt and cravat. They were all in good condition. You’d clearly taken care to take them off without damaging them. Eager to put all this strangeness behind him, Izzy wrestled his shirt and vest on, keeping an eye on you as he did.

None of this made any sense. 

You hated  him. He knew that. You’d made it clear from the moment you’d met. You were Bonnet’s first mate, loyal to your captain and protective over your crew. You’d made it no secret that you didn’t like how he did things. 

Izzy had been hated before. Of course he had. He had a position that people wanted and he was well aware that he wasn’t all that likable. At least before people had a reason to fear him as well. You didn’t. You had an entire crew behind you and with Edward so wrapped up in Bonnet, Izzy didn’t have anyone to protect him. 

Well, except… You, apparently.  You, who’d had every opportunity to get rid of him on this stupid trip even before the storm came in.

 And yet, here he was. Unharmed. Not only had you not tried anything besides the same teasing as usual, but you’d actually saved him. That alone was completely ridiculous. But you’d done more than that. You’d gone out of your way to take care of him. (His ring felt like it was burning in his hand as he put it back in place.) Even if you weren’t going to kill him solely out of respect for your captains, you wouldn’t have needed to do any more than drag him here. Yet, you’d not only torn your shirt to patch him up, you’d given him your jacket and even taken the time to make sure he didn’t lose his ring, just because you knew it was important to him.

He tried to stand but he was quickly overcome with dizziness and nausea so he stumbled. He braced himself to hit the ground but… Instead he found himself leaning against your chest, your arms wrapped around him.

“Shit! Izzy you okay? Ah, fuck dumb question, sorry. Are you feeling dizzy?” Your voice was still so fucking concerned. No mockery. You gently pulled away, seemingly unphased by the fact that he wasn’t responding to you, still supporting him so he didn’t fall. “You… uh… can hang on to my jacket if you like?” Your words made him realize that he was still desperately clutching your jacket.

He hissed out a “Fuck off” on reflex but… Fuck it. He slipped your jacket on. It didn’t really fit all that well but it was warm. 

You smiled. “How about this…” You let him wrap an arm around your shoulder. “I don’t think you should be walking on your own but I sure as hell can’t carry you anymore. For such a tiny man, you’re rather heavy…”

Izzy scoffed. “Not my fucking fault you’re a giant.” He grumbled. There was less bite in his tone than usual but it was absolutely still there.

You smiled at the insult. “I’ll take that as you feeling a bit better. You’re already being a snarky asshole.”

It had been a pain in the ass to clamber back up the hill he’d slipped down. Honestly, Izzy was surprised you managed to clamber down in the middle of the storm and not fall as well. 

The walk back was generally quiet only broken by your occasional comment of “careful” or “watch your step” which, Izzy was realizing, you’d done before. He’d assumed that you were being condescending. But now, considering everything else you’d done you must have been genuinely warning him. The more he thought about it the more he realized how you’d never really been that bad. You teased and occasionally the two of you would get into genuine arguments, but you never did anything particularly malicious. And you clearly cared about your crew. You’d check in on everyone (himself included he realized suddenly) after a raid, make sure everyone ate, and, while you were far too lax about it in Izzy’s opinion, you did make sure chores got done.

Hell, considering how much of non-captain Stede fockin’ Bonnet was, Izzy had little doubt in his mind that you’d been mostly running the ship.

You were still soft. Too soft. But, clearly, it was working to some extent.

You were actually making far too much sense for him all of a sudden. 

Dammit.

Luckily, it didn’t take long for the two of you to find the beach. The Revenge was visible in the water and even from this distance, Izzy could tell that it was undamaged. A dinghy was also already enroute and its passengers all immediately waved at the two of you once they spotted you. 

Edward, impatient as ever, decided he wasn’t going to wait and jumped off the dinghy and waded the last few feet of water before sprinting over to you. “Izzy! Y/N! You two okay? Nasty one that was, huh?” (Any other time, Izzy would have probably chastised him for jumping into the water like that (especially after a storm) but right now, he was just glad to see his captain was safe. )

“Izzy hit his head. Pretty sure it's not that bad but he might have a concussion.” You reported quickly. “Is everyone else all right?”

“Everyone’s fine!” Ed replied.

“The ship?” Izzy asked.

“Fine as well, Iz. No worries.” Edward assured. A pause. “Well… Aside from a few of Stede’s books.” 

Izzy rolled his eyes. Of course.

The dinghy ride back was irritating. Roach seemed determined to check Izzy for a concussion right then and there. Though, it seemed that he agreed with you. Izzy would be fine. He’d definitely feel it tomorrow but he’d live.

The moment the two of you set foot on the Revenge, Stede was there. “Oh thank goodness! We were incredibly worried! I’m very sorry about all this! The storm really surprised us.” 

Luckily, Izzy’s head had calmed enough that he could pull away from you and lean against the railing instead. He quickly glanced around, the deck was messier than usual but didn’t look all that bad. His attention couldn’t help but drift back to you…

You were giving a quick report of everything (far more professional than Stede Bonnet deserved) before presenting him with the bag full of peaches. Bonnet was quick to announce that everyone was getting some kind of peach dessert that Izzy had never heard of as a reward for making it through a storm. Izzy scoffed. The reward for making it through a storm was being alive.

As Bonnet ran to the chef so he could explain this weird dish, you walked back to Izzy, leaning against the railing next to him. “I can handle everything up here. You should probably lie down.” You explained softly.

“Don’t need to lie down.” Izzy grumbled back.

You rolled your eyes. “What’s the point of having two first mates on a ship if you can’t take a break? I’ll get Captain Ed to drag you if I must.”

“Fine.” Izzy spat. A long pause. Izzy glanced around. Everyone seemed not to be focused on the two of you. “Thank you.” He said quickly.

You smiled. “Yeah, of course. Don’t worry about it.”

“...I’m still going to be a dick.” He confessed.

That actually made you laugh and Izzy couldn’t help but think that he liked that sound. “Duh. I’m not expecting anything to change. And I’m still going to give you shit.”

Izzy chuckled himself and nodded. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

You pushed off of the railing and waved goodbye. “Well, I’m off to ask Stede if I can borrow one of his shirts for a bit. See you around!”

“Good luck.” Izzy replied, both of you well aware that you were going to be dragged into Stede’s wardrobe and not return for hours. You chuckled. 

Just as expected, the moment you asked, Stede’s face lit up and you were immediately dragged off into his pastel colored hell.

Before Izzy could even take a breather, Ed was all but leaning on his shoulder. “Hi. You’re going to lie down.” His voice held the same force as an order. Izzy sighed, well aware that resistance was futile.

As Izzy was all but dragged back to his cabin, with a promise that someone would go check on him later, Ed decided to talk. “So,” His captain began with a grin that heralded problems. “Nice jacket.” Izzy’s eyes widened as he realized he was still wearing your jacket. “Guess you guys really got to know each other huh?”

“Piss off.” Izzy grumbled but made no move to take your jacket off. “My clothes were wet.”

“Ooh! So they saw you naked too?” Ed teased and Izzy all but short circuited.

“I- Ah… My shirt and vest were wet.” Izzy clarified, somewhat shakily.

Ed merely hummed. Izzy knew him well enough to know he wasn’t done. “So… when's the wedding?”

“Edward.”

A/N: Izzy’s one of my favorite characters so I have to be mean to him. Also, I've gotten a few requests for enemies to lovers with Izzy, so, there will be more coming soon. (•̀ᴗ•́)و ̑̑

[izzyhandslightofmylife]

peeled an orange today and it gave me a *vision* for @bougiebutchbitch's came back wrong kinda snippet. if you like psychological horror and hated the ending this is for you <3

tw: abuse, past abuse, manipulation

The oranges are always rotten. 

Ed and Stede smiled when he saw for the first time the bowl of decay in their kitchen. You could tell from far away that they were bad- the skin was too loose on the flesh, like if you picked it up,  you could crush the whole thing in your fingers. 

They looked at him with those faraway stares, and told him that they were still good. 

Ed said, airily, “oranges are love. If you peel an orange for someone, it means you love them, you know?” 

As Izzy nodded, Stede’s jaw clenched, and for just a moment, none of them were smiling anymore. He stared at Ed, gestured to the bowl and told Izzy to peel one for him. As the two of them stared at each other, his fingers, still covered in the dirt of the grave, reached for an orange. As gently as he tried, however, the juice leaked onto his palms, getting into the cracks of his hands. He tried to peel away the white part, every lingering bit of skin, but couldn’t. The inside was black and green, mold growing inside, matching with his bruises. 

That’s when something strange happened. 

Izzy remembered. More specifically, he remembered a marmalade, orange, from a long time ago. 

—

Ed was up on the crow’s nest like he used to be when they were younger. They would climb up at night and look at the stars, trying to name them, find constellations, tell their stories. Sometimes, Ed would make up his own, a spark flaring in his eyes as he looked at the sky, the same spark flaring in Izzy when he looked at him. 

Now, it’s morning, and Ed is up there with someone else. He stands, just for a moment, underneath the area that they’re sitting in, and listens for what Blackbeard has to say. 

“This is some damn good marmalade”. 

“It’s the best. Ship’s stores are loaded with it. I had to get rid of some gunpowder to fit it all, but I think it was the right move…”. 

He walks away at that, enraged that this man could still possibly still be breathing. Then, just for a moment, thinks of the Queen Anne and all the weapons in the hold. 

He hadn’t known Ed liked marmalade. 

The next memory comes month afterwards, when he’s missing a leg and a million pieces of his heart along with it. 

Right now, though, he still has glitter on his face in the early morning, voice hoarse from singing, adding cinnamon to his coffee. Right now, he is safe. 

Someone walks in, and for a moment, he thinks it’s Roach, but the gait is softer, and as the figure stills, he knows who it is. Izzy doesn’t want to talk to him, not now, but the he remembers their earlier conversation, Ed looking out to sea as Izzy stared up at him. “Oh, look”, he had said, “you’re talking to me again”. 

Ed is flushed, and after a moment, Izzy realizes that he’s naked except for a robe. He knows what  Ed needs right now, and smirks. 

“Busy night last night?”

A smile unfurls at the corners of his lips, but is replaced quickly by a frown again as he dives for the pantry, rummaging around like his life depends on it. 

“Where,” he murmurs, still looking, “is the fucking marmalade…” 

Izzy sees the food on the tray and realizes why he’s looking. He knows who it’s for, but for all he’s tried, he still wants to help Edward. This is his job. So, opens another pantry above them and takes out the marmalade, holding it in front of his face until he stops and looks up. 

“Oh, thanks, Iz”, he says, smile breaking out and standing up.

Izzy hands it to him and tries to smile back. For just a moment, Ed’s hand lingers, as if he’s going to do something, say something, but then he dashes away as quickly as he came. 

The smell of orange lingers on his hands afterwards. 

–

In the present, his heart burns again, a spark of what it had once been. There’s love, and then there’s the cold of the dirt, and then there’s something there that he’s never, ever, felt towards Ed before, not forgivably, anyway. Anger wells up inside him, and his fingers clench, the rotten slices ground to a pulp in his hand. 

Ed turns to him and sees the mess of rot in his hand. 

“Come on, Izzy”, he groans, “Stop. That’s love you’re holding right there, after all”. 

He says it casually, but behind it, there’s an old hint of force in his voice.  And that’s another toe. 

 Izzy, wrapped up in the past, answers quietly, almost fondly, “fucking twat”. 

Then they both still, and his love is rotten, and he’s fucked up. He already knows what’s going to happen as soon as he says it.

– insert whump scene that I haven't written yet here. Stede has rings and he beats Izzy up I just gotta write that -

Quietly, Stede says, “you can’t call Edward a twat again, Israel. Do you understand?” 

Izzy Israel blinks,  disgust in himself welling up at that. Why would he call Edward a twat? That was something old Izzy did, and old Izzy’s dead, he’s in the past, he’s supposed to be better now, they made sure of it, they saved him. 

How fucking dare someone say that to Edward. How dare that someone be him. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice small again. It feels safer than how it’d been before. 

Stede’s face crumples, body relaxing. He takes Izzy in his arms, stroking his hair with his rings still on. It almost makes him cry, being held like that. Stede and Ed were just…kind. Even after he’d hurt them, after they’d hurt him, they held him anyway. 

When Stede pulls away, he shivers, but there’s nothing to say except a quiet thank you. 

“See,” he says, “you can be good, Izzy. Just never, ever, do that again”. 

The rest of the day, he’s quiet, walks around in a haze, juice running down his arms, dripping off of his fingers, love staining his hands like blood. 

He never liked oranges that much anyway. 

[forpiratereasons]

meeting stede bonnet

a slow meandering through June. prompt eight: family

day 1 | day 2 | day 3 | day 4 | day 5 | day 6 | day 7 | day 8 | day 9 | day 10

-

Stede Bonnet was having a very good morning. The sun was shining. The birds were singing. He had a great pin on today: a rose, in rainbow colours.

And he’d woken up with Ed, sleep-soft and warm and drowsy in his arms.

Hard to beat that. It didn’t even matter that Stede was running late to work. Because Ed Teach was a snuggler, and was not bothered in the least by morning breath when kisses were involved, and was really enthusiastic about the idea that a thing worth doing was a thing worth doing twice.

Yes, it was a very good morning.

“Good morning, crew!” Stede called out as he entered the bookshop. He shook a box of sorry-I’m-late pastries at the staff currently hovering around the check-out counter. “Hello, morning!”

Roach clapped Oluwande on the shoulder and said, inexplicably, “Nope. Nope, this is not for me, not today,” before he shuffled off.

Frenchie followed with an apologetic smile. “I’d love to stick around for this,” he said, “but I really don’t want to.”

Stede frowned. He looked back at Oluwande, who sighed, resignedly, and Lucius, who—“Lucius, you weren’t on the schedule today.”

“I’m not actually here,” Lucius said quickly.

“Yes, you are. I can see you.”

“That’s not really what he meant,” Oluwande said. He blew out another breath, closed his eyes for a moment, then said, in a not-at-all-convincingly casual tone, “So, Stede. Have a good—night? Last night?”

“Plan B?” Lucius whispered to him, before Stede could respond.

“Absolutely Plan B,” Oluwande confirmed, with considerable relief. Lucius patted the counter and disappeared.

“As a matter of fact,” Stede said, determined not to let his very strange staff get in the way of his very good morning, “I did have a good night.”

He paused, waiting to see if Oluwande was going to ask him to elaborate.

“Good,” Oluwande said eventually. “Good. That’s good. I had like, just a regular night. Regular, boring old night! Pizza night. Good to have a night like that some nights.”

“’Course. Sure.”

Stede waited again. There seemed to be something they were waiting for, but—

“Right, well, thanks for the pastries,” Oluwande said suddenly, just as Stede caught sight of Lucius slipping out of the back hallway, giving two thumbs up. “Oh, um, I just remembered, I left you some invoices to check. In your office. On your desk.”

Stede didn’t usually do invoicing until Monday afternoons—always the slowest days of the week—but he snagged a pain au chocolate anyway and made his way down to his office.

He picked up the first invoice in the pile, and then found what had been tucked underneath it: a book.

The Joy of Gay Sex.

Ah, Stede thought.

For a long time, that was all he thought. He kept trying to think the next thought, the one that ought to come after it, but he just kept circling around that same one. Ah. Right.

He wandered, slightly stunned, back out to the counter, where Roach, Frenchie, Lucius, and now also Jim had materialized. Even Wee John, who was not even Stede’s employee but who belonged to Frenchie in some way or another, had taken up residence in one of the shop’s armchairs. They all looked at Stede expectantly.

Stede looked at them.

They looked at Stede.

Stede said, “I’m gay.”

“Oh, thank god,” Lucius blurted. “For a minute there I thought we’d got it wrong.”

“Just a jumping off point,” Frenchie said, rubbing Lucius’ back while he caught his breath. “The book. Some of it’s a little outdated, but it’s a classic. It’s a start.”

Surprisingly, it was Jim who added, “I emailed you some websites, too. For the more updated stuff. Read it, be safe, never talk to me about any of this again.”

“It’s a bit like—being family,” Oluwande said, and everyone nodded along with him. “We watch out for one another, when we can.”

There was something thick and rough in Stede’s throat. Something hot behind his eyes. He tried several times to think of something to say, but in the end all he could muster was a small, tight, “Thank you.”

“And if you happened to get that guy’s number,” Roach said with a sharp grin, a wicked wink, as Stede flushed instantly, “his assistant is looking for him.”

[run-me-through-but-not-like-that]

What if Izzy and the reader also attended the fancy party from episode 5? Izzy would hate dressing up, but the reader might be into Izzy's look, maybe even give him a reward for playing along~ (like pulling him into a closet during the party... Do ships have closets? They should, for making out with small angry men)

Every ship should have a mandatory 'to make out with small angry men' closet.

Proper Fun:

Plenty of ‘appropriate ensembles’ had been offered up by Bonnet, and each had Izzy turning his nose up at them as his stomach turned. There was no chance he was getting forced into one of those monstrosities, even Edward was holding back his laughter. Izzy truly thought he was going to have an aneurysm when Bonnet brought out the pastel options.

When Edward had announced some of the crew were going to some high class boat party, Izzy had told him it was a terrible idea but he would not be deterred. Then Edward had insisted that Izzy join them and he was certain that it couldn’t get worse.

If you hadn't been there, Izzy would have probably ended up committing some sort of murder suicide. You had seen the absolute disaster taking place and stepped in, taking over the whole affair. Only letting Stede offer advice when it came to what garments would be expected at such a party.

There hadn’t been a black option, which you had really been looking for to make Izzy the most comfortable, but you had spotted a dark blue ensemble. It was perfectly regal enough to satisfy Stede and Edward, but understated enough to satisfy Izzy.

When you had brought it out of the closet and suggested it, Izzy had begrudgingly accepted. It was the lesser of the many evils offered to him, and he knew that. 

The outfit was bad enough but letting Frenchie and Wee John tailor the suit to fit him was somehow more humiliating.

Once everyone had their outfits picked out and adjusted accordingly, Izzy was the last to dress. Edward had dressed first and Izzy had put the bows in his beard and hair while you and Stede dressed. Then, it was Izzy’s turn.

The first mate emerged from the secret close, dressed in his new suit and grumbling to himself. You couldn’t help but smile. Sure, it wasn’t something Izzy would normally wear and he was scowling, but he also looked rather dashing.

“You look great, Iz!” Edward beamed at his lifelong friend, sincere in his compliments. He loved dressing up in all these fine fabrics, and he couldn’t see how somebody wouldn’t enjoy it. Surely, Izzy didn’t hate it as much as said, right?

“Certainly an upgrade from your usual attire,” Stede agreed, looking rather pleased with himself, before turning to you, “excellent choice, the colour suits him well, I think.”

Izzy just scoffed and muttered to himself, pulling on the stupid frilly cravat so that he could breathe properly.

You purposely ignored Stede, even though you knew he meant well. “I think you look wonderful, Izzy,” you complimented.

He really hadn’t been happy about attending this party. It wasn’t really your scene, you’d never associated with Stede’s class of people, but you were a little excited just to do something new and different. Izzy could be a bit of a dick but you couldn’t really blame him considering the circumstances that brought him aboard the Revenge, so you had promised to stay by his side and give him excuses to leave and not talk to people.

“All of you, and I cannot stress this enough, fuck off,” Izzy seethed, tugging at his costume again.

-

The boat ride over to the other ship was only a little painful, with Stede filling you all in on anything you might need to know while Izzy sulked about the whole thing.

Boarding the ship went as smoothly as you could have expected. Izzy was grumbling to himself once again, Edward had introduced himself as Jeff the accountant and kindly introduced Izzy as Basilica, his assistant.

You had taken Izzy’s arm and pulled him away before he could stab the man at the door, leading him inside. You gave the other party goers a polite smile and nod as you passed them, but avoided too much interaction until Izzy wasn’t scowling to himself.

Eventually the two of you had settled in a quiet corner of the main room that you had deemed suitable. Edward was more eager to partake among the other patrons, thriving on the attention. Seemingly enjoying himself among the high society types, but it hadn’t slipped your notice that Izzy was watching him with a concerned expression.

“Relax. For once, I think Stede is the most experienced and prepared for this situation. He’ll look after Edward and if that fails, we’ll burn the damn ship down together,” you promised.

Izzy actually huffed a little laugh to himself. He supposed you were right, these were Bonnet’s people, a world that he didn’t understand, and perhaps he could just keep an eye on things from a distance for now. And Edward did seem like he was having fun…

Plus, burning the ship down would be easier with two people and you were offering. “I grow fonder of you every day.”

You grinned to yourself, Izzy was joking, playing around. He wasn’t relaxed by any means but maybe you could work on that a little. After all, you were at a party and they were supposed to be fun.

“I didn’t realise you were such a romantic,” you teased, “or is that just Basilica?”

“Fucking Edward,” Izzy grumbled.

“I think you mean Jeff, but I understand the sentiment,” you nodded in understanding.

You looked around the room again. You and Izzy had thought the costumes Stede had picked out for everyone were a bit much, but they were nothing compared to some of the things the other people here were wearing.

Fuck this, you were supposed to be at a party. “Alright, let’s at least try to have some fun messing with some posh folks,” you decided. Izzy could hear your determination.

Izzy hummed to himself, he couldn’t see how any of this was fun. “How do you suggest doing that?” he asked.

“A bit of a fuckery?” you proposed.

“...keep speaking,” Izzy looked at you out of the corner of his eye, the slightest hint of interest in his expression. 

You smirked to yourself. Sure, the fuckeries were more Edward’s thing, he just had the mind for it, but Izzy couldn’t deny that he often enjoyed them.

“Nothing flashy. We play our roles, just two high society types enjoying a night of debauchery. Show these twats how it’s really done, maybe pick a pocket or two?”

“...suppose we could do that,” Izzy hummed. “But no trouble, Edward was…looking forward to this.”

You couldn’t help but feel fond of him, caring about Edward actually enjoying himself. He could be a prickly bastard but when he cared, he did it with his whole being. He wanted his friend to have fun, probably the only reason he was actually here, hadn’t drawn blood over the whole idea in the first place.

“I have a feeling those two are going to be the ones who end up causing the trouble,” you  both watched Edward and Stede mingling, Edward sharing anecdotes, Stede never leaving his side. “How about we start with a dance?” you suggested.

Izzy heaved a sigh but then squared his shoulders, his expression hardening slightly with determination. He moved so that he was standing in front of you, one hand held behind his back while he held his other out for you to take.

You bit back your smile, trying to get into character. “Ask properly, Basilica,” you tutted.

Izzy rolled his eyes but asked, “wanna dance?”

“How charmingly quaint,” you mused, putting on your best fancy voice

“Shut the fuck up,” Izzy’s voice lacked any real bite or malice. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he was amused.

You grinned and placed your hand in his, the two of you walking over to where other pairs were dancing.

Izzy kept your hand clasped in his as you placed your other hand on his shoulder, his other hand at your waist. Positioned all proper like.

“You actually know how to dance,” you were stating, not asking. Sure, he was stiff and clearly unpractised, but he seemed to know how he should stand, how it should look.

“Don’t act so surprised,” Izzy huffed but you just raised an eyebrow at him, it was a very fair question in your opinion. He just sighed before explaining. “Never was much into it, saw it though. During my time in the navy.”

“Well, show me what you learnt, Officer Basilica,” your hand slipped further up his shoulder, brushing against his collar.

“Admiral,” Izzy corrected, properly playing along this time. You knew he had probably never become an admiral during his time in the navy, he didn’t talk about his past much but you had gathered that he had joined his first ship young and had still been fairly young when he became a pirate.

“An admiral?” you repeated with a faux impressed gasp.

Izzy smiled a little at the exaggerated look of awe on your face. Maybe this evening wouldn’t be a complete nightmare.

The two of you danced among the crowd, Izzy knew the moves but conducted them stiffly, you didn’t know them well but happily let him lead. Neither of you were as practised as the other dancers and that got you a few looks. Normally Izzy would either shrink away or lash out at the blatant judgement, but you held him still and close, got him to just focus on you and he actually ended up…enjoying himself to some extent. You were having fun, and that encouraged him to keep going and ignore the people around you.

The song came to an end, also putting an end to the dance. Izzy stepped back, one of his hands in his. He bowed at the waist and pressed a kiss to your knuckles, holding your gaze with his own. 

Okay, that was genuinely charming. You could only smile at him with genuine awe this time, you couldn’t help but swoon just a little at the gentlemanly act.

“Now, I think we’ve earned some drinks,” you kept Izzy’s hand in your own, leading him over to a man with a tray of champagne glasses.

You released Izzy’s hand to grab two glasses, thanking the man, before turning back to him. Izzy accepted one of the drinks, holding his arm out for you to take. You smiled graciously and looped your arm through his, letting him lead you back to a quiet corner where you could observe the room.

“Do these twats actually enjoy all of this?” Izzy questioned. 

Everyone had smiles, everyone seemed to know each other and like each other, but even Izzy could tell that all of it was fake. It was almost as if they were challenging each other. It was all of that…passive aggression, or whatever it was that Bonnet called it. Izzy hated it, preferred when people just said what they meant. He had a feeling that if everyone on this ship spoke their mind, there would be a massacre.

“I think so, in their own way. Probably just like bragging or whatever it is they do to feel superior,” you shrugged, sipping from your glass.

“It’s fucking torture. I mean those lot, they’re laughing…about what? What was so fucking funny?” Izzy asked, nodding towards one of the groups that were laughing among themselves.

“They’re supposed to laugh. It’s all just…acting.” These weren’t the circles you normally found yourself in but you had known people like this, plus Stede had told you enough about the people he grew up around for you to have some sense of how it works. “See him?” you used your glass to gesture towards two men sharing quiet conversation.

“Sure,” Izzy nodded, wondering what you were getting at.

“He came in with that woman over there,” you told him. You had seen them walk in together, hadn’t thought much of it at the time, of course.

“So what?” Izzy looked at you curiously, if not a little impatiently.

“So?” you tutted, like the answer was obvious. “He’s clearly fucking that guy,” you gestured towards the two men again.

“I mean, obviously,” Izzy rolled his eyes. They weren’t as subtle as they probably thought they were. “She probably knows about it, though.”

“But like I said, it’s all just acting. And they all fucking suck,” you shrugged.

Izzy chuckled before finishing his glass.

“Alright,” he nodded thoughtfully, deciding on a new game to play. “What do you think about those three?” he asked, pointing towards another group.

The two of you ended up huddled together in the corner, bitching about the other guests and speculating about their possible gossip. Grabbing fresh glasses of champagne whenever somebody with a tray walked by.

The two of you were actually beginning to have proper fun, laughing between yourselves, when the sound of a clinking glass sounded throughout the room. Some man in some ridiculous looking suit started making a speech and immediately put a damper on your whole evening.

“Alright, it’s getting unbearable now,” Izzy complained, rolling his eyes at whatever the man was talking about.

You had to agree. “Let’s take a walk,” you gave a small tug to his arm before slipping out of the room together.

The two of you wandered around the inside of the ship for a little while, mostly while Izzy complained about how gaudy everything was.

“Here,” you brought Izzy to a halt, grabbing a door by the handle. “Let’s have some real fun,” you smirked, pulling the door open.

Izzy frowned a little in confusion but didn’t put up any fight as you tugged him into a small storage closet. “You’re joking, right?” he questioned, just a little disapprovingly, as you clicked the door shut.

You heaved a dramatic sigh, reaching for the door again. “I suppose we can go and listen to the speeches…they’ll probably still be speaking.” 

Izzy caught you by the arm, pulling you back towards him. You settled back against a wall, raising an eyebrow at him. “I think we’re perfectly fine right here.”

You couldn’t agree more as you grabbed hold of that frilly cravat he hated so much, pulling him close and capturing his mouth with your own. Izzy returned your kiss, starting slow as you found a comfortable enough spot against the wall. Izzy hummed against your lips as you pulled him closer, deepening the kiss. He parted his lips more than happily as your tongue traced the seam of them.

Izzy pressed closer and you shifted until you were able to slip a leg between each other, bodies rolling together. Only parting for a short moment to laugh when a broom fell and clattered against the floor.

You buried a hand in Izzy’s hair, giving it a gentle tug, earning you a sweet little moan from the man. Just to tease him a little further, you nipped at his bottom lip, smiling against his mouth when he surged closer for more.

-

“Where could they have gotten too?” Oluwande whisper-yelled as he and Frenchie rushed around the ship, searching for the missing crew members. “They couldn’t have left the ship, right?”

“Nah, Izzy wouldn’t leave Edward aboard a strange ship…I don’t think,” Frenchie frowned a little. Actually, Izzy was very likely to leave if he had enough of the other guests, but Frenchie trusted that you wouldn’t leave without at least telling one of them.

“Yeah but, Stede and Edward said they hadn’t seen either of them since they came in.”

Frenchie opened his mouth to speak, to insist they would find you both, but was interrupted by a clattering sound coming from the door beside them. The clattering was then followed by a thump and hushed voices.

The two men looked at each other before throwing the door open. “There you are!” Frenchie grinned at you both. At least Oluwande had the decency to look embarrassed by what they had walked in on.

“What the fuck?” Izzy seethed, jumping away from you at the sudden intrusion, hand going for his knife until he realised how was standing in the doorway. No real threat.

“We have to go,” Oluwande told you both, averting his gaze politely. It wasn’t like the two of you were undressed, just a little flustered and mussed up. Still, it was thoughtful of him.

“What’s…is something burning?” you moved towards the door, now able to smell smoke coming from somewhere.

“We’re leaving,” Oluwande nodded.

“Kind of an emergency,” Frenchie shrugged.

“What did those fuckers do?” Izzy questioned under his breath as the four of you hurried through the ship and up to the deck, Izzy fixing his hair and you straightening out your clothes before you had to face your captains.

“Long story, I'm sure they’ll explain,” Oluwande assured, sounding like he wasn’t completely sure what had happened before the fire.

The four of you met Stede and Edward on the deck as they readied a dingy. “Ah, wonderful. We really should be going,” Stede clapped his hands together, looking a little nervous.

“You should have been there, mate!” Edward grinned at Izzy as he threw an arm around Stede’s shoulders. “Stede’s a fucking lunatic, it was brilliant!”

“Let’s just fucking go before we burn with these fucking twats,” Izzy huffed. He couldn’t believe he wasn’t the one making everyone return to the Revenge early.

For once, everyone agreed with Izzy and found nothing to argue with him about, the lot of you piling into the dingy and rowing away. You and Izzy sat at the back of the dingy, watching the flaming ship slowly get further away.

“So…how’d you rate the party?” you asked quietly, leaning in closer to Izzy to keep your conversation between the two of you. The others were distracted by their own conversations anyway.

“...suppose it wasn’t too bad,” Izzy conceded with a sigh. You just rolled your eyes fondly, perfectly aware that he had ended up enjoying himself. “Plus the ship burnt down and I didn’t even have to lift a finger,” he smirked to himself.

“Well, I had fun,” you shrugged, knocking your shoulder against his.

Izzy smiled softly to himself, “...yeah, me too.”

[celluloidbroomcloset]

Just wanted to let you know that I read your meta and find it so spot-on and enlightening - this message is just me, nodding along.

My gf and I watch OFMD and as a victim of bullying, she sympathises a lot with Stede’s position. My closest friends in school were all bullied as well. To us, it feels natural to conclude that Jack’s a toxic, abusive bully and that his (limited, thank God) role in the narrative is at least in part to show us what that means - for Stede, who refuses to put up with it now that he has a choice and for Ed, who has to learn the hard way that if he sides with Jack, he becomes just another bully, someone who’ll naturally backstab others and limit himself to having ‘fun’ in destructice, toxic ways. It takes courage to step away from, especially if you think that’s all you deserve; it’s easier (in an awful way) to just play along and resign yourself to the fact that you aren’t strong enough to choose better which, I guess, is what many do and one reason why bullying can persist and be so destructive. We watch that episode very rarely, actually, because the bullying behaviour is just too well-portrayed and it’s honestly uncomfortable to watch at times (as it should be). Also, apologies if any of this reads awkwardly, English is not my first language. Thanks for sharing all your insights!

Thank you. Honestly, one of the reasons I dislike Jack and some of the fanonization of him as much as I do is because he seems so obviously a bully to me. He isolates Stede, he mocks him, he gets others to join in mocking him and to make him feel low. He’s there to tell Stede “Ed doesn’t really like you, I know who Ed is, Ed thinks you’re ridiculous, everyone thinks you’re ridiculous.” And he makes it look (to Stede) like that’s what Ed thinks too. And Ed starts to see that and the damage he is causing, and how he really does have to decide to either become Jack or not.

I do know what toxic friendships feel like and how they work and how horrible it is to be manipulated by someone and not have anyone outside believe you. So it does, admittedly, bother me to see how some people have minimized Jack’s harm or argued that his bullying isn’t all really bullying. I find it upsetting, which has definitely fueled my own discourse over the past few days.

This stuff is INTERESTING, though, and I really wish things hadn’t gotten as heated as they did (and some of that is very much on me).

Anyway, thank you. I think most folks are ignoring me on this now, which is fine.

Additional: the hardest part in a lot of ways is how Ed participates. It hurts when someone who is supposed to be your friend seems to side with your bully. Someone said that Ed tries to include Stede, but…maybe Stede really doesn’t want to play and he shouldn’t have to. That moment when he leaves the ship is so heartbreaking from Stede’s perspective because to him it really does say “we were never really friends.”

[alphacygni]

extended scene in my mind

Anne: So, Eddie...where's that little 'Izzy' of yours? Weird to see you without him trailing along behind.

Ed: (awkward) Oh, uh, yeah well--

Mary: What, you throw him over for this one? (points at Stede)

Stede: No, no--

Ed: Actually, uh, we...we're in a bit of a...rough patch.

Anne: Rough patch?

Ed: Yeah, might've...you know, gotten a little low, did a little of the, uh, the ol' (pantomimes the murder-suicide sequence)...you know how it is.

Mary: Ahh, yeah. Murder-suicide. Anne and I did bit of that last Tuesday.

Anne: Slow day at the shop.

Ed: (nods) Also, uh...he might have, uh, lost his leg after I shot him in it.

Anne: (clearly interested) Oh. Limb removal. Haven't tried that one yet.

Mary: Yeah, but I like your legs, babe. (thoughtful) Maybe an arm?

Ed: Could always do a toe. That works, too.