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chuplayswithfire · 1 year

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Izzy Arc Thoughts, the post!

Having now watched the three episodes three times over (some of them more than that shhhhh), I still have a BUNCH of thoughts about the rest of the crew I want to percolate on, but I had some thoughts on Izzy that I finally feel confident in, as to what's going on in with his character since the end of season 1, and especially the arc he has between Impossible Birds and The Innkeeper.

Being upfront: I wasn't sure what kind of arc the show would do with Izzy and we still obviously don't know the full scope of it, as we have five more episodes to go, but it's definitely been intriguing in a way I didn't anticipate. I figured Izzy would continue on with his antagonistic role, and he still might, but it seems like D Jenks is having fun letting Con have a role with more emotional nuance than in season one, and seeing as that role has an impact on everyone else, I wanted to share my thoughts on what I think is going on with him in the episodes that we've seen so far. I also wanted to start my in depth analysis with a character I don't care about nearly as much (being honest!) as I do the rest of the crew, but who also has a huge impact on two characters I do care very much about, Ed and Stede. I'm planning to analyze Ed and Stede in each episode before we get eps 4 and 5!

This is a long post! It features many quotes directly , transcribed by me and taken from the captions by Max. I used a read more because the whole thing is over 6k in length and analyzes the dynamic presented between Izzy and Ed and Izzy and Stede presented in episodes 1-3 of season 2 of Our Flag Means Death. If the read more doesn't work, that is not on me, sorry.

Alright, so recap: when we left Izzy, he had lashed out at Ed for the person he was choosing to become and the manner in which he was expressing himself and his feelings - the blanket fort, the binging sweets, the singing for the crew, the sharing his feelings and asking to be called Edward, the encouraging a talent show, and then, the cleaning up and comfortably wearing a colorful printed robe of nice, soft fabric. (Quotes: "I should have let the English kill you. This, whatever it is that you've become... is a fate worse than death." "(growled) No. This, this is Blackbeard. Not some (breath) namby-pamby in a silk gown, pining for his boyfriend.”) When these insults get the aggressive reaction from Ed that Izzy associates with the version of Ed he prefers, he encourages him with a smile, hand cupping Ed's cheek, and choking out "There he is." Ed shoves his hand away, backing away with a closed off expression, and Izzy's smile dies and he closes the distance between them. He states what he wants from Ed, makes a threat, and walks away without waiting for a response. (Quote: "Blackbeard is my captain. I serve Blackbeard. Not Edward. Edward better watch his fuckin' step.”)

The next time we see Izzy, Ed has donned his leathers, made his face up with dark make up to look more fierce, and is cutting off Izzy's pink toe and feeding it to him. We know from episode 9 that cutting off toes and feeding it to people was a classic Blackbeard move. For Izzy, this is several things: 1) confirmation that Blackbeard is back, the one who would never let a threat stand and does a good maim 2) a punishment for said threat (Quote: "Threaten me again, ever... I'll feed you the rest. Understand?" "Y-Yes, Blackbeard.") 3) a confirmation that he has his boss back, that whatever Stede has done to his boss' brain is over.

We get confirmation of that third point when Izzy speaks with the crew as they're getting rid of Stede's books and possessions - "Blackbeard is himself again," with a broad smile. Later, we see Izzy abandon the crew on a small island, presumably on Ed's direct orders, as he waves goodbye to Bonnet's playthings - them - as they depart. Izzy has a gun as he stands beside Ed, and they're watching as Frenchie finishes the new flag and hoists it.

That's where we left Izzy in Season 1: standing besides Ed as Blackbird returns to being Blackbeard for a brand new era of being Blackbeard, greatest pirate who ever lived, terror of the seas.

And when we return to the show, that's kind of what we get. Edward is being Blackbeard and Blackbeard is the terror of the seas, a Wanted Poster with so many crimes they're covering both sides of the poster (and yeah some of them are very silly, what midwifery was Ed up to, exactly-), and yet, Izzy is not happy when we see him.

What I think the show works to establish in episode 1 is that what Izzy wanted back was the man he saw as the old Blackbeard, who wasn't afflicted by these feelings of love or softness or "weakness", which he views as something that Stede Bonnet inflicted upon Edward. We know that, because it's how he phrased it to Chauncey - that "[Stede] had done something to [his] boss's brain". He seemed to view these feelings as something akin to an infection from Stede, that was corrupting the Blackbeard he knew and respected to something less than. Izzy wanted the old Blackbeard back and he thought that when Ed took his toe and fed it to him, said he'd killed Lucius, all that I recapped, that he'd gotten just that. A return to his preferred normal, where everything makes sense exactly as he thinks it should. Ed back to normal, it's Blackbeard time, getting rid of the dead weight and all that.

Except that's not what he's gotten at all, and I don't think Izzy had fully grasped why prior to episode 1. He has suspicions, of course, but it takes him a while to build to a confrontation about it.

Because see, Ed switched from healthier coping mechanisms like crying, eating sweets, creative outlets, and talking to people about his feelings to much more acceptably pirate means of coping with his feelings - violence in the form of raids and drugs (rhino horn, which thought people joke about it being an aphrodisiac, has a variety of believed medical uses in Vietnamese medicine, treating ailments including hangovers, fever, gout and potentially terminal illnesses, like cancer or stroke). Raids and drug use should be totally acceptable means of managing your feelings as a pirate, except that Ed is going too far with them, pushing the crew to the breaking point and beyond. They're raiding every day, they're not taking breaks, they're not having days off, they're chasing down ships as fast as they can take them down and now they're going to be throwing away loot. Izzy is realizing that actually he has not gotten the Blackbeard he wanted and things are not great. He's also lost at least two more toes.

He and Ed have an early exchange - Izzy looking sickly, skin sallow, what appears to be hair dye or make up trickling from his hairline, Ed prepping and snorting rhino horn like it's cocaine:

Izzy: "The crew are lookin' a tad worse for wear.” Ed: "Did everyone get cake?" Izzy: "Yeah, they got cake." Ed: "Well they're, they're welcome to have some rhino horn. Just ground up a fresh batch." (snorts rhino horn) "Oh fuck! You want some?" Izzy: "No, not right now, no." Ed: "Well then, get back to work ya fuckin' lightweight!" [cut to Izzy among the crew] Ed voiceover: "Can't do the job, someone else will."

Throughout this scene, Izzy looks increasingly distressed as Ed does drugs - he looks his most distressed during the voice over however, his jaw flexing, his eyes watery.

This is what appears to have shaken him the most - the idea that he's replaceable, that Ed can and would get rid of him in favor of someone else. It's obviously incredibly distressing to Izzy, in a way that I genuinely don't think the loss of his toes was. Izzy clearly values his relationship with Edward - while in season 1 he definitely wanted a promotion and liked the idea of authority, of being captain, the fact that he was swiftly mutinied and nearly murdered seemed to put a kabosh on his ambitions, and reoriented him to staying at Ed's side. We know that Izzy at least believes that loyalty is important - we know that he thinks he's acting from loyalty when he tries to make Ed watch as his boyfriend (in Izzy's words) is murdered.

Izzy values his position with Blackbeard. He serves Blackbeard, respects him, was honored to work for a legend. And while this is supposition, he seems to have considered himself and Edward as having a close, intimate relationship that did not require words or confessions or honest expression of feeling, this kind of bond where words aren't necessary, because they're tough, manly men who don't need to express their feelings.

But.

Then we get this line. Then we get, "can't do the job, someone else will." Seven words, and they shake Izzy to his core, make him finally start questioning his until then unquestioned belief in the ways of the world and his relationship with Edward. It shakes him enough that he actually breaks in front of the crew, in a scene that's incredibly funny, but also leads to them extending him some genuinely unearned compassion, as they question the healthiness of his relationship with Blackbeard - even as Izzy is finally questioning if he has a relationship with Blackbeard.

Following his breakdown, Izzy has the crew bring the treasure above deck, but doesn't go through with making them throw it overboard. Instead, he takes those new doubts and brings them to Ed, pushing for a conversation where he is clearly for the first time in their working relationship expressing his thoughts on said relationship in word form.

Izzy: "The crew are refusing to part with any treasure." Ed: "Why?" Izzy: "Because it's fuckin' treasure." Ed: "Not good enough. (stops toying with knife, slides it in Izzy's direction.) And that's another toe. Take your boot off." (stands from seated position, walks over to Izzy.) Izzy: (starts by looking down at the ground, then slowly raises gaze to Ed's face as he speaks.) "Who am I to you?" Ed: “...What?” Izzy: “We’ve worked together for years. (sniff) You know me better than anyone has ever known me, and I daresay the same is true for me about you.” (a musical beat plays. Izzy lowers his eyes from Ed’s face, looking in the middle distance.) Izzy: I have (several second long pause) love for you, Edward.” Ed: (starting as Izzy is speaking, right after the word love) “Oh, come on.” (walks away from Izzy, circling around him.) Izzy: I’m worried about you. We all are. The atmosphere on this ship is completely poisoned.” (pause) “But if we could all just maybe (pause, swallow, visibly struggling with words) talk it through.” (musical beat) Ed: (slowly looks up) “As a crew?” Izzy: (face falls subtly, taking on a starker look of upset)

The scene transitions away, but let’s really dig into all of this for a second, because this is crucial. This is Izzy going from matters between us are unspoken but profound to I have doubts and I am verbalizing my thoughts in the hope that they will be assuaged. Izzy is expressing aloud his thoughts on their relationship for the first time, because as Izzy puts it, he thought he knew Edward better than anyone. He thought he understood him better than anyone else alive. Now, we know that Izzy doesn’t understand Edward already - we’ve known that he doesn’t actually see the person Edward all along, but this was made especially clear in episode 6, where his voiceover notes that he is “starting to suspect that Edward has no intention of ending Stede Bonnet’s life”, at a point in time when Ivan and Fang are confident the plan is off and everyone else seems pretty clear there’s a co-captaining effect going on.

The point is that all this time, Izzy has been acting from a place of assuming he knows Edward best of anyone in the world, that he understands him, that he can follow what’s going on with him and that they are intimately bound together, in this deep and unspoken love for each other that doesn’t have to be said allowed, but only has to exist, unacknowledged but deeply felt.

But then Ed said that he could be replaced. Then Ed said that he could find someone else to do Izzy’s job.

And this introduced doubt into Izzy’s mind, for the first time. This is what made Izzy verbalize all these things - what made him ask who he is to Ed, what made him state that he has love for Ed, that he worries for Ed, that he and Ed understand each other better than anyone else… because now he has to say them aloud, because he has to be reassured that these things are true.

That he is someone important to Ed. That Ed has love for Izzy and knows that Izzy has love for Ed. That Ed understands Izzy, that Ed knows that Izzy understands Ed. For years, he has thought that he and Ed understood each other in this profound way, that they alone truly knew the other, and he has to question if that’s true.

He’s being vulnerable, in a way vaguely akin to the vulnerability Ed offered in episode 10, and it clearly doesn’t land. He wants reassurance that this deep and profound love and intimacy he was so sure was there, is real, and Ed can’t give him that reassurance because it’s not true. Not in the way Izzy was so sure it was. Not in the way he ruined Ed’s life to believe.

Izzy finally decides to put himself out there, and all that Ed gets out of it is the echo of Stede Bonnet, and it makes Izzy’s face fall like a rock. There’s the answer he didn’t want: the relationship he believed he had with Ed is not there, and Ed is still, utterly, truly, fixed in his feelings for Stede Bonnet.

(and like just to clarify, I really don’t feel bad for Izzy here - he doesn’t have the relationship he wants with Ed because he’s never tried to really understand Ed, or listen to him, and he isn’t what Ed wants in a partner, but, objectively, Izzy does make himself vulnerable here, and he’s shot down, because Ed just doesn’t return his feelings)

Which leads us into the continuing scene. Ed goes to confront the crew about the atmosphere of the ship being poisoned, which everyone denies at gun point, leading Ed to shoving the gun under his chin and having a little conversation with himself, unsettling everyone around.

Ed: “I know who we should ask, ol’ Blackbeard. Hello mate. You think the vibe on the ship is poisoned? I don’t know, Blackbeard. Maybe a little toxic sometimes. Maybe it’s a bit uncomfortable sometimes. You do make the crew a little bit uncomfortable sometimes. They think you’re crazy. Well, I’m not crazy. I don’t feel crazy. I feel pretty fucking good actually.” (the camera is focusing on the faces of all the crew as he gives this monologue, gun still cocked under his chin.) Izzy: “Fucking End!” (Screamed at Ed’s back) Ed: (slowly turns to Izzy.) Crew: (Fang looking shocked and saddened. Frenchie shakes his head very minutely, looking at Izzy.) Izzy: “The atmosphere on this ship is (word drawn out) fucked.” (working his jaw, looking down and to the side as he says this.) “Everyone knows why.” Ed: (nods once, sets his chin, walks forward.) “Well I don’t. Enlighten me.” Izzy: (smiling with mouth shut, suppressing a laugh. Shrugs.) Your feelings for Stede fuckin’ Bonnet.” Ed: (Nods as soon as Izzy says Stede’s name. Shoots him in the leg.) Izzy: (cries out in pain drops, clutching his knee.) Ed: “Frenchie.” Frenchie: “Yes?” Ed: “Congratulations, you are now first mate.” Frenchie: “Oh, no. I don’t, I don’t think I’m qualified.” Ed: “‘course you are mate. You can start by cleaning up that mess.” (tilts head towards Izzy. Turns to rest of crew, onlooking.) “And the rest of you, you throw this shit overboard and get suited up.” (claps twice, turns away.) “We’ve got a record to break.” Izzy: (still groaning in pain.)

So that was a lot.

Izzy has realized, over the course of this episode, that his relationship with Ed is not what he thought it was, is not what he wants it to be, and that Ed is still and probably always will be, in love with Stede fuckin’ Bonnet. This is why Izzy decides to say what he believes to be true - that the atmosphere is fucked because of Ed’s feelings for Stede. It’s important that we know this is not actually true - while Ed being ghosted by Stede did start his spiral, Ed was able to stop that spiral with the help of community and reaching for healthy coping mechanisms. Ed spiraled again after Izzy intervened, insulting, threatening, and demeaning him as discussed in the recap, and the spiral isn’t about his romantic feelings - it’s about, as s2e3 The Innkeeper firmly establishes, his feeling fundamentally unloveable and monstrous. Throughout s2e1, Ed is clearly denying the crew days off and meaningful rest out of pursuit of as many raids as possible. He’s trying not to touch the ground, flying high both via drugs and adrenaline, and his exchange with Frenchie at the end of the impossible makes it clear he doesn’t want to stop.

It’s also very important, that throughout this entire thing, the only crew member Ed actually hurts is Izzy, who doesn’t actually object to losing his toes. Now, I’m on record for being one of the many people who think Izzy is actually glad that the toe scene happens - I don’t think he actually especially wanted to lose his toes, but, he was glad to get back the Blackbeard who would cut off toes, and I do think he felt there was a certain intimacy in being the only one experiencing violence. Izzy is a masochist and has previously expressed delight in being the subject of violence - was very happy to be choked by Ed in s1ep10 - so while this is not safe or sane, I do think it’s consensual, in the sense that Izzy thinks this is part of their mutual love, their unspoken but deep and crucially intimate togetherness that leads them to know each other on the deepest level.

And then Ed says he can be replaced. And then Ed makes it clear that even when Izzy is emotionally vulnerable, Ed’s heart is with Stede. And Izzy realizes, he doesn’t have that place with Edward that he thought he did. He doesn’t have that special relationship. This is not intimacy, for Ed. And Ed shooting him and turning away isn’t even the final nail in that door.

Because, in s2e2, Izzy is still alive. The crew has hidden him in the walls and are trying to preserve his life, even as Izzy screams for them to kill him and calls them cowards for not doing so. The crew is gathering medicine, preparing an amputation, figuring out what to do with Izzy to try and keep him alive, and Izzy wants them to kill him. (Quote: “Kill me you fucking cowards! Kill me -”)

I would say it’s because he’s realized the relationship he devoted his life too and considered sacred, the relationship he considers most valuable… is not that to the man he loves. Ed replaced him and pirate code says the first mate should kill him. The first mate (Frenchie) refuses to kill him. Frenchie is not much for that, and neither is JIm. Both of them, having experienced a better life and place of work when Stede was captain and Ed was their co-captain, are trying to preserve Izzy’s life the best they can. Jim especially clings to the memory of when life meant something on this ship, even Izzy’s life.

Which - this makes sense coming from Jim, and I think it’s why they chose Jim, because Jim wasn’t present for Izzy being captain or the mutiny. Jim has the least complicated relationship with Izzy aside from Fang, who is notably not present in any of the scenes to do with rescuing Izzy, despite having been clearly shocked and appalled that Izzy was shot.

Izzy, is not thrilled to be being kept alive, but the fact that Izzy is kept alive, means that Izzy has to process his feelings - and face Ed again, who, having shot Izzy, mourned and sobbed, has woken up, cleaned himself up, cleaned his space out, and decided to seek death.

From Izzy.

This, I think, is the second most crucial moment in Izzy’s arc and transition, because Izzy thought he was someone of incredible importance to Ed, and he also thought that he knew and understood Ed better than anyone, and that Ed crucially, understood him just as well. He thought that even without any emotional honesty or vulnerability, they knew each other more than anyone else possibly could.

He thinks that Ed knows him.

And Ed comes to him, and they have the following exchange:

Ed: “Morning.” Izzy: “My leg?” (looking down his body.) Ed: (laughing) “Yeah. Oh, no, that’s gone now. Up in Leg Heaven.” (sets the smelling salts down, turns to look down at Izzy.) Izzy: (looks up at Ed.) “Have you come to take the other one?” Ed: “I think one’s quite enough. I just popped down to say a proper goodbye.” (reaches behind him, draws gun. Izzy: (watches the gun, looks down from Ed’s face to gun and back as Ed cocks and loads it.) Ed: (looking at the gun, not Izzy.) “Had a dream about you last night.” (flips gun to offer the handle to Izzy.) “Take it.” Izzy: “Oh, fuck off. Fuck off. Fuck off.” (slaps at Ed’s hand, looking away from Ed.) Ed: “Hold it! Hold it.” (they are speaking over each other. Gets the gun in Izzy’s hand, directs it at Ed’s head. Looking at Izzy.) “I dreamt that ya killed me. Shot me right through the skull.” (moving the gun and Izzy’s hand, drawing it to his forehead, leaning closer. The camera moves between Ed’s face and Izzy’s.) Izzy: (smiles slowly then sneers.) “Good for you.” Ed: (blinks and nods slowly.) “It was good for me. It’s just what the doctor ordered.” (The camera moves from Ed’s face to Izzy’s showing him with that frown as Ed stands over him, leaving the gun in Izzy’s hand.) “Anyway, it wasn’t even like that.” (walks away from Izzy.) Izzy: (eyes tracking Ed as he walks away.) Ed: “Not in my dream.” (moves to stand at the foot of Izzy’s bed, back to Izzy.) “I was standing.” (inhales). “Just like this.” (Closes eyes. Spreads arms.) Izzy: (from his view, Ed is standing against the light, back open, arms spread. He blinks and raises the gun audibly.) Ed: (Swallows, holding his arms out.) Izzy: (smiles, sniffs audibly, dropping the smile as he clenches his teeth. Laughs harshly, mockingly, gun raised.) “Ohhhhh, ah, you scared, Eddie? Too scared - too scared to do it yourself? Ay.” (laughs) “Go on, clean up your own fucking mess. I’m not doin’ it. I’ve been doin’ it all my fucking life.” Ed: (looks down, disappointed. blinks.) Izzy: Fuck off. Ed: (nods, swallows.) “Farewell, old chum.” (whispered. He walks up the stairs and away from Izzy.) Izzy: (watches, shaking, nodding slowly himself, breath hitching.) Ed: (reaches the top of the stairs. A gunshot sounds. A creak. Ed lowers his eyes, looking down at something off camera. Nods. Exhales.) “I loved you” (a pause) “best I could.” The scene transitions from there, and the next we see of Ed, he is initiating plan two of suicide attempts: steering the ship into a storm and goading the ship to kill him or die with him.

But Ed’s deal is so many more posts from here. No, we’re focused on Izzy for the moment, so what did this whole exchange mean for him?

First, the thought that Ed had come to do more damage. That Ed was there for Izzy, that this was about Izzy. But it’s not. Ed has had enough of that. He notably does not apologize. Izzy notably does not seem to expect one. There is history here, and the last time they were in positions like this, the camera angle was flipped - Ed at Izzy’s right, a hand covering Izzy’s mouth, making him eat his toe and the idea that things could go as they had been, that the Blackbeard Izzy had schemed and tried to have a man killed over was back. This time, Ed is at Izzy’s left, with a gun, and he doesn’t touch Izzy except to hand over the gun.

This is where it’s so important that Izzy believed he and Ed knew each other best of all. Because in episode one, Izzy was getting worried for Ed, but it’s in episode 2, in this moment, as Ed hands him a gun, that he realizes Ed wants to die. And it’s in this moment that he realizes that Ed fully believes Izzy could. That Ed has taken these actions believing that they would lead Izzy to kill him. That Ed wants to commit suicide via Izzy, that he thinks killing Ed is something that Izzy wants, could want, could do.

This is Izzy, realizing that he and Ed don’t understand each other nearly as well as he thought. This is Izzy, realizing that Ed looks at him and sees a man who could and would kill him, when Izzy thinks that he couldn’t ever do that. This is Izzy, having the true final death knell on that relationship he believed they had, the intimacy he believed they had, the lack of a need for words. He thought all this time that he knew Ed best and that Ed knew him, and he doesn’t want to kill Ed - and he’s also hurt and angry and upset to know Ed genuinely thought he would. That Ed would come to him for this, because Izzy doesn’t think he could kill Ed, but Ed thinks he could.

In his mind, Ed should know that Izzy could never kill him, should trust him, should know without having to be told that it would never happen, but here’s Ed in the flesh, asking him to kill him.

It’s over, everything he thought was there.

And Ed? Ed did care about Izzy, in his own way, but every overture he made was denied, shot down, Izzy not interested in the bird guy, the ship, the clouds and how they contribute to a plan, the drugs, and like, Izzy is allowed to not be interested in any of those things - but these are the things Ed was interested in. These are the ways Ed tried to connect most recently, and Izzy shot them all down. To Izzy, there was a deep and intimate connection in spite of all of that. To Ed, every way he could connect with Izzy was shot down. He loved him the best he could, which wasn’t a way that could provide either of them what they wanted. Izzy had love for Ed, but that love could not be fruitful or nurturing to either of them, because it was unspoken and therefore ripe for misunderstanding.

Izzy stews down there in the ship, in his own thoughts, while Ed steers the ship into a storm and makes his last effort to die, to have it all end - to push the crew to killing him, or dying with him. And then he ties his leg up, makes his way above deck, shoots Ed in the arm to keep him from killing them all, and tries to kill himself instead, staring at Ed as he tries to shoot himself with the gun Ed wanted Izzy to kill him with. Despite the gun being aimed for the temple, he fails and falls back, leaving himself staring up as it rains on him, hiding any tears. Fang brings Ed down, and the crew gather together, Fang supporting Izzy’s weight, as Jim lifts a cannonball with a scream and prepares to bring it down on Ed’s head. Izzy watches without interfering.

EDIT: ADDED THIS SECTION:

A quick addendum: even though I watched episode 2 so many times, I didn't realize that Izzy tried to kill himself after Ed left the room! The gunshot that Ed hears is in fact Izzy trying and failing to shoot himself right then and there, in that moment that Ed departs. Izzy's forehead was so wet and the background of him falling back and water splashing was such that I truly thought that took place in the rain, and that he tried to shoot himself after shooting Ed. Thanks to @glamaphonic for letting me know. This does leave me even more certain that Izzy is motivated to do this because he has finally understood both that Edward wants to die, and that he and Edward never understood each other as well as he thought, which brings the last years of his life into question. He tried to kill himself, failed, and came up to stop Ed from bringing down the ship. It's not just that Izzy stews down there - as Ed departs, leaving Izzy behind, Izzy takes the shot. He tries and fails to kill himself, and wakes and climbs the steps to take the shot at Ed he couldn't before.

The next time we see Izzy is s1e3, The Innkeeper, when Stede crosses over to the Revenge and finds the crew amidst the wreckage. He’s eating a raw bird with the rest of the crew, and then is brought aboard the Red Flag. As Stede asks the crew about Ed’s location, Izzy watches him. He’s the only one not eating soup, hands tucked over his chest.

As Stede starts asking questions - dangerous questions for Izzy and the former crew of the Revenge - he walks over with a crutch.

Izzy: “Bonnet. Good to see you.” Stede: “Piss off, Izzy. I don’t wanna hear from you.”

Stede talks to the rest of the crew, as Izzy grimaces. Stede pays him no attention. The next time Izzy speaks up: Stede: “What about my painting? Why is it all stabbed up?” Izzy: (looking up through his hair, smiling.) “That was me.” Stede: (sighs and walks away without response.) Izzy: (blinks slowly, looking dismayed. We see him start to turn his head in Stede’s direction.)

Well, that seemed like someone trying to pick a fight, and disappointed he didn’t get one, too me. In Izzy’s mind, Stede is his romantic rival, the man Ed loves where he didn’t love Izzy, and, currently, also a threat, because if he keeps asking questions and reveals the mutiny, they’ll all be killed.

But Stede is one more thing. Stede is another dagger in Izzy’s heart, as we continue transcribing:

Izzy: “Don’t cry Bonnet. We just redecorated.” (has clearly been following Stede.) Stede: “I don’t mind, actually. I think the knives really help bring the place together.” (calmly stated before he walks away to look at the rest of the furniture.) Izzy: (drops his head, looking away as though trying to gather words.) Stede: (turns to look at Izzy.) “What’d you do with him? I know he wouldn’t have left by choice.” Izzy: (sniffles) I know you think you understand him. Stede: (interrupting) “He was either gonna watch the world burn or die trying, so which was it?” (leaning forward despite the considerable distance, still calm.) Izzy: (swallows, dips head. Starts moving forward, gritting teeth through words.) “Alright Bonnet. Have it your own way.” (stalking forward to Stede on his crutch.) “He went mad. He tortured the crew. He took my fuckin’ leg ‘cause I dared to mention your fuckin’ name.” (emphasis on the curses, slams fist when he says your name.) Stede: (in drawn breath, turns away) Izzy: “He was a wild dog, and we dealt with him like one.” Stede: “You sent him to Doggy Heaven.” Izzy: (stares in silence, head shaking. Flashes back to Ed laying in the rain, breathing out “Finally,” and laughing as Jim brings a cannonball down on him as Izzy watches. Stares. Turns to look away from Stede, face twisting. Shakes his head. Shuts his eyes. Breathes the word:) “No.” Stede: (turns to look back at him.) Izzy: “I could never do that.” (looks away, still not looking Stede in the face). “We deserved him on a beach (sniffles) left nature to do the rest. More than he would have done for us.” Stede: (turns away, breathing out.) Izzy: (continuing) “You and me did this to him. And we cannot let this crew suffer anymore for our mistakes.” Stede: (turns to look at Izzy) “Why would they suffer?” Izzy: “If your captain senses mutiny, she’ll kill us all. That’s pirate code.” Stede: (camera lingers on his face as he swallows.)

Doggy Heaven has a heavy meaning in this series, considering that Ed was supposed to send Stede to Doggy Heaven, and couldn’t because of his love for Stede. Ed couldn’t bring himself to kill Stede, but here is Stede, who Izzy views as a romantic rival, guessing that Izzy could kill Ed. Acknowledging that he, like Ed, believes that Izzy could kill Ed. Izzy, who thinks he couldn’t and wouldn’t and has love for Ed, and sees himself as loyal.

But Izzy did stand back as Ed was killed, and that’s why he reaches for dehumanizing language to defend the action - he calls Ed a wild dog and that they dealt with him like one.

(It’s the first time in the show that a white character makes a racist remark without immediate consequences. Before anyway says otherwise, yes it is always racist for white people to dehumanize a man of color. It is always racist to say a person of color is or was an animal or liken them to being an animal. He could have said that Ed was a danger to the crew in any number of ways but he reached for likening him to a creature less than human and yeah that’s a racist thing to do. I believe the show did not follow through with consequences for this action because it’s clear that Izzy is STILL trying to pick a fight with Stede.)

The commonality in all of these scenes with Stede are twofold. One, Izzy is trying to distract Stede from the truth of the mutiny and what the crew did (and the fact that Ed is still aboard the Revenge, left for dead [or as Izzy put it, for nature to do the rest]). The second is that Izzy is trying and failing to pick a fight - failing, because Stede won’t take him up on it. At all. Stede is not engaging with Izzy at this point outside of the practical matter of seeking information, and that’s all he has to spare for Izzy - he’s already told him to piss off once, and that’s as much energy as he spends on it, but Izzy comes at Stede antagonistically more than once - three times, actually, and I think it’s because if he has a fight with Stede, and Stede says all the things he’s thinking, about how awful Izzy is, how he’s a traitor, how could he have hurt Ed, any of those things, then Izzy can fight about it, and he can justify it to himself, and he can ignore the thought from now on, because it’s the same thought that Stede fuckin’ Bonnet is having, and those thoughts are worthless.

But Stede doesn’t give him that. Stede doesn’t give him a fight at all. Stede walks away from Izzy again and again and again and in doing so does not grant Izzy an out, an out that can ONLY come from Stede, because no one else is going to disagree with the mutiny.

Stede is the only one who could give him that fight, and Stede refuses. And Izzy continues to have to sit with his own thoughts and justifications and they clearly aren’t enough for him, because he’s continuing to push.

Izzy is also trying to protect himself and the crew, here. It’s very much about that. He is trying to keep himself and them from dying by being caught out for mutiny, but I think it’s interesting that it’s only here that he tries to take accountability for what he said and did to Ed, and it’s in service of avoiding what he’s actually done. Izzy says that he and Stede did this to Ed - this that resulted in, as he says, Ed going mad and torturing the crew and having to be mutinied and abandoned on the beach. Izzy needs Stede to feel equally responsible - so that Stede will help protect the crew, but also because I think Izzy is feeling guilty and has been, because he could watch Ed die, and he could hurt Ed, and he didn’t think of himself as that person, but he is and was, and thinking that he caused all of this himself is too much. Better to give some of it to Stede, and help the crew out as well as himself.

He had love for Ed, in his own way, and he thought they understood each other and had a partnership, but here’s Stede fuckin’ Bonnet, who only knew Ed for a matter of weeks, and understood him better than Izzy did and wouldn’t do the thing that Izzy did, and this is the final nail for Izzy, the thing he’s struggling with in this whole revelation that Ed didn’t have any romantic love for him, that there was no special intimate romance between them that didn’t need to be said or expressed or acknowledged with words or vulnerability to exist, because Stede takes one look at the situation and can summarize what happened. Stede knew that Ed would want to die, because you can’t actually burn the world down. You can say “burn the world or die trying”, but the only end result is dying trying.

And Izzy, I genuinely don’t think, understood that Ed wanted to die. Not until Ed offered him the gun. Not until Ed spelled it out. Izzy knew that Ed was fucked up over his feelings, but I don’t think he understood where they were leading.

But here’s Stede, and he did, and Izzy can’t take that, which is why once the truth is out and the mutineers are locked in the brig awaiting probable execution, Izzy tries to pick a fight one more time, even now that there’s nothing to distract Stede from.

Izzy: (hears footsteps and turns his head.) Stede: (comes to the brig, staring through the bars at Izzy, then the rest of the crew.) Izzy: (smiles) “Go on Bonnet, give me your worst.” Crew: (looks up at Stede slowly.) Stede: (Looks at all of them, silent and not visibly angry, somber. Tilts his head down, eyes closed. Opens his eyes, shoves against the bars and turns and walks away without a word.) Izzy: (Drops the smile. Stares forward into the distance, eyes visibly wet with tears, blinks several times).

So, clearly trying for a fight, wanting one, and continually being denied. Izzy is almost certainly grieving Ed, the relationship he thought they had, and also his leg, and Stede is the only other person here who would even possibly mourn Ed too, and Stede refuses to give him any response. Even when goaded, even knowing the truth, he has nothing to say to him. The next time Stede and Izzy are in the same room, Stede has concocted an escape plan, and doesn’t look at or speak to Izzy at all as he gives instructions and organizes the escape.

And when they have made it back to their ship, when they’re getting the wheel and rigging set for escape, they have a final conversation:

Izzy: (walks up behind Stede, who is watching the Red Flag.) “I just wanted to thank you for-” Stede: (walks away without letting him finish.) Izzy: (looks down, is left standing alone as live moves on the ship.)

Over the course of these three episodes, Izzy’s plot is realizing that he was fundamentally wrong about his relationship with Ed, his understanding of Ed as a person, and the depths of Ed’s feelings and despair. I think he’s also realizing that he was wrong about his relationship with Stede - he saw Stede as a romantic rival, and someone who hated him as much as he hates Stede, but given the opportunity to antagonize Izzy again and again, Stede refuses, because he doesn’t care about Izzy nearly enough.

Izzy has misunderstood the nature of his relationship as it were with both of these men, who are, and always were, predominantly, chiefly, and only, interested in each other.

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd meta #izzy hands #edward teach #stede bonnet #ofmd s2 spoilers

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5queerducksinatrenchcoat · 11 months

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(making this a separate post from the reblog)

WELL WELL WELL, if it isn't me saying a thing that ended up happening! My cunty lil man got all dolled up with wee john, both looking gorgeous, by the way, and then izzy trying to teach frenchie the music real quick and y'all, I had to pause the fucken episode and prepare myself because izzy was actually gonna sing.

And then this lil fucker(affectionate) slaps me on the fucken face with LA VIE EN ROSE, and when I say nothing could have prepared me for that! I was not still the entire fucking song, my body literally could not contain its excitement. (there was a lot of finger snapping and bed slapping and 'fuck it up!'s and 'yes bitch!'s)

AND THEN, HE PULLS OUT THE FUCKEN FRENCH! Because of course con learned it in french, too! He didn't have to do that, but he fucken did!

And y'all, he was singing to the crew. It wasn't for ed, it was for the crew. The lyrics were changed so he was singing for the crew, because they're his family, and he loves them, and they love him. He feels safe with them and comfortable with them not only to be himself, but to FIND himself.

The crew actually took the time to realize that he is not okay, and to understand him enough to help him in the way he needed, not in the way they would need it. They took that opportunity to let izzy know, point blank, that he is one of them, that he is family, and I feel like it's safe to assume that that's more then he's ever gotten before.

And izzy's still not okay. He's been drunk or drinking for the majority of the fucken season. He is not coping with the loss of his leg, or everything else that ed did, in a healthy way. His thing with ed is still incredibly fucked because ed's allergic to proper communication and izzy will just take what he can get because he loves him. (But ed's a whole other can of worms who has his own shit to deal with.)

But anyway, it's okay that izzy's not okay. It's okay that he's not all healed and doesn't have his shit together. It's okay that he's not even healing rn, really. What's important is that he's in a place to start healing. He feels comfortable and safe and understood, he has a support system that he feels connected to and knows will help him, and he'll actually accept their help. (Like fang helping to keep him steady while he was coming down the stairs when he was telling frenchie what song to play. fang was holding onto izzy's hips and izzy wasn't even close to bothered.)

Also I love how ned picked up the song where he interrupted izzy, that was such a bitch move and it was great.

#im fucken feral about this show #and about this little middle aged man #ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd s2 #ofmd season 2 #our flag means death season 2 #ofmd spoilers #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd season 2 spoilers #izzy hands #ofmd izzy #con o'neill

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burntsaltsblog · 23 days

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tw: drug use

Chapter Four

"Never gonna give you up. Never gonna let you down. Never run around and desert you."

A steady headache at the base of my skull pulsed in time with the beat, which was courtesy of Rick Astley. But I couldn't even hear Rick singing, thanks to MM, who was belting out the tune like he had written the song himself.

"Never gonna make you cry. Never gonna say goodbye. Never gonna tell a lie and hurt you."

He had claimed this was the only way he could adequately prepare for a mission, and I wasn't one to judge a guy for the way he chose to get in the zone. But, as soon as Rick Astley's voice blared from the mini Bose speaker in the common area of the basement for the 27th time (yes, I had been counting), I was contemplating storming from the confines of my room and hurling the stupid speaker against the wall until it inevitably shattered into a thousand different satisfying pieces.

I assumed I had finally gone deaf when the song cut out midway through the second verse, but then Hughie timidly eased my door open and slipped inside. "How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Well, I'm alive, aren't I?" I replied dryly, flipping through the latest issue of Vogue that Frenchie had swiped for me from the bookshop down the street.

"Yeah." Hughie said, hesitating before continuing, "Anyways, we're about to head out, and I wanted to say goodbye."

My gaze drifted from pictures of Chanel bags to Hughie's nervous face. "Alright. Well, Godspeed. And if you happen to use Butcher as a human shield, which results in him getting maimed, then please do so. I can promise to compensate you for your efforts."

Hughie perched on the side of my bed, taking an unusually great interest in a loose string in his jeans. "How long do you plan on staying mad at Butcher for?"

"Why?" I questioned as I resumed paging through my magazine.

"Because the tension between you two is making it a bit awkward for the rest of us if I'm being honest."

"I'll stop being mad at Butcher when he stops being a world-class ass. And knowing him, that could take a while. So I wouldn't hold my breath if I were you."

"Why don't you just key his car or something?" Hughie sighed. "You know, perform some dramatic act of revenge so you can get even with him and move on?"

I titled my head in consideration before I found fault in my friend's idea. "One, he'll just get his stupid car fixed, and two, my revenge needs to be something that's going to impose lasting pain. Emotionally and physically. And that's going to take me a long time to figure out."

"You're insane," Hughie muttered as he stood, adjusting his jacket. "Oh, and by the way," he added, heading for the door. "Butcher told me to tell you to be on your best behavior while we're gone. He also told me what he would do to you if you didn't in significant detail, but I do not feel comfortable repeating any of it."

"That kinky, huh?" I smirked, watching Hughie squirm uncomfortably.

"Seriously, Jo," he lamented. "Can you at least try not to be reckless tonight? I know that's asking you to go against every basic instinct of yours, but Butcher is right. You need to stay here and rest so you can get better."

"I make no promises," I replied sarcastically before I took stock of Hughie's desperate face and relented slightly. "But I will try to be good. Is that better?"

Hughie nodded, offering me a small wave before closing the door behind him.

I strained my ears to hear four different pairs of shoes trample up the basement steps before clamoring loudly over my head. Butcher hadn't returned since his anger-induced exit earlier, so I assumed he was somewhere outside waiting for them.

A sting of jealousy flowed through me as I pictured them all embarking on this mission without me. Evading a security system as tricky as the CIA's was right up my alley, and I was exceedingly bitter that I was missing out on all of the fun.

I looked around my room, mindlessly studying the tattered posters I'd hung on the wall to cover the cracked walls. Tom Cruise stared back at me, dawned in his pilot's outfit, and I glared at him. If I lived in the film Top Gun, I wouldn't have to live with Butcher and his infuriating face, which I would confess was quite handsome if I wasn't so pissed at him.

Bored of Dior's spring line and Harry Style's exclusive interview about the highs and lows of fame, I tossed Vogue aside, picked up my phone, and scrolled through my unopened messages. Brandon had texted me under an hour ago, informing me of a party he was throwing at his apartment. Apparently, he was being evicted tomorrow, so he was hosting a rager the night before to trash the place as a big "fuck you" to his landlord.

I had to admit that the party sounded fun. I'd been alone for roughly five minutes, and I was already bored out of my mind. My biggest problem, though, was that I had the matter of my brand-new stitches. After MM sewed me up for the second time this afternoon, he'd made me swear that I wouldn't move a muscle so as not to rip them again. So, I suppose it was a good thing I'd had my fingers crossed behind my back because how could I break a promise that I technically never made?

I took a deep breath as I sat up in bed. Other than a small amount of lightheadedness and some minimal pain, I felt surprisingly good. And I knew after a couple of drinks, any discomfort would be a distant memory.

After rummaging through my small collection of clothes, I pulled on a clean pair of black jeans, a long-sleeved shirt that had the faded Vought logo, and my trusted combat boots. I studied my reflection in the camera of my cracked phone and felt satisfied enough, so I headed out the door and started for Brandon's place.

I was careful to shut off my phone when I was still inside on the off chance that Hughie tried tracking me if the guys returned to the pawn shop before I did and noticed I was gone. However, I figured the odds of that happening were pretty low, considering I only planned on staying at this party for a little while and breaking into the office of the deceased deputy director of the CIA would surely take all night.

Brandon's door was closed, but music and the hollers of guests could be heard loud and clear. I peeked through one of the bullet holes in the wood and saw it was a packed house. But that was no problem. Since becoming a wanted criminal, I haven't socialized much, so it would be good to see everyone.

"Holy shit, I can't believe you came!" exclaimed Brandon as I entered his apartment. He threw an arm around me before instructing me to 'help myself' as he gestured to the powder that covered almost every surface.

But I wasn't in the mood for coke. It was too exhilarating for this time of night, and I was craving something with less evident and lasting effects. I spotted a vape that was being passed around by Heath, one of my old buddies back from my dealing days, and I promptly approached him. I didn't have much trouble nicking the vape off of him, and I settled into the comforting high from the weed as I conversed with everyone.

They were all thrilled to see me walking around free and not locked up. I was ambushed for details on my anit-supe work, but I was dubious with most of my answers, only doling out basic information and keeping most of the details to myself. I considered almost everyone here to be a friend, but paranoia danced around my head, and on this rare occasion, I listened to the internal warnings and kept my mouth shut.

Time flew by, and before I knew it, I had moved from weed to more potent stuff. Molly was my newest friend for the evening, and it caused me to deviate from my original plan of leaving early. One hour turned into two, and pretty soon, it was nearing four am, and I was passing out on Brandon's couch.

༺༻

Light snuck between my swollen lids, piercing my eyes, and I groaned, slapping a hand over my face as I searched for some much-needed darkness. Someone nearby was shuffling around the room, and the noise quickly became too irritating to ignore. I assumed it was Hughie, and I wrenched my eyes open, intent on telling him to shut the fuck up, when I realized that it wasn't my best friend causing the noise, and I wasn't under the pawn shop. I was still in Brandon's apartment from the night before.

I abruptly sat up and watched as the stranger causing the ruckus shuffled out the door, not even bothering to close it behind them. My teeth sank anxiously into my lower lip as I pulled out my phone to check the time. After the device finally powered on, my eyes widened as I saw the numbers flashing before me.

10:29 am

Fuck fuck fuck. I was completely and totally fucked.

The boys were definitely back by now, and I was sure that they had noticed my absence.

Right on cue, notifications of missed calls and texts began flooding in, and my stomach flipped when I saw the ninety-three missed calls from Butcher. Hughie had called a whopping forty-two times, and there were a few messages from MM and Frenchie telling me to get my shit together and come home. I couldn't help but scoff at Frenchie; he and I ran in the same circles, and not a day went by where he wasn't high. Saying that I was miffed at his hypocrisy would be an understatement.

I stood from the couch on weak legs, fought the fatigue that was encompassing my body, and forced myself to focus on the act of getting home somehow. I was too tired for the almost hour walk, but I didn't have money for a cab either.

As if my phone could read my thoughts, it immediately lit up, notifying me that I had an incoming call from Butcher. I guess he thought that the ninety-fourth time was the charm.

I stood in Brandon's apartment, which was lacking the owner himself, amongst other passed-out partygoers who I assumed had stayed overnight unintentionally like myself as I contemplated whether or not to accept Butcher's call.

In the end, as I silently cursed myself, I took the call. I brought the phone up to my ear but quickly drew it back when Butcher's voice bellowed from the other end, not even giving me a chance to say hello.

"Where on God's bleedin' earth are ya'?"

"Uh, Brooklyn," I responded hoarsely as I walked through the open doorway and scanned the empty hall.

"Stay where you are. I’m coming to get ya’."

"Butcher, it's fine. I can get home on my own."

"The hell you can. Send me your location."

I didn't have the opportunity to argue before the line went dead. So, with multiple knots in my stomach, I begrudgingly dropped him a pin of my location. I was already in deep shit, and now I was forced to face a car ride with Butcher, where he'd have ample time to yell at me. And with my blurry vision, chapped lips, and overall feeling of sickness, I was not in the mood.

I stumbled out into the December morning air just as Butcher pulled up in his beat-up Cadilac. He shot out of the driver's seat and stalked towards me like I was prey that he had finally cornered after much anguish. I suppose that wasn't far from the truth.

I barely had time to attempt an escape before Butcher had me slammed up against the car with a firm hand on my chest, keeping me pinned in place while he used his other hand to point a threatening finger inches from my nose.

"Dontcha ever pull some shite like that again. Do ya’ understand me? I was out all night, runnin' around like a fuckin' headless wanker lookin' for you, only to find ya’ here in this bloody crack den."

"This isn't a crack den."

"Well, it makes our little bunker look like Buckingham fuckin' Palace, don’t it? And if I ever catch ya' here again, I swear to God almighty, you won't be able to sit for a fuckin’ year."

Butcher's threat was low and husky as his whisky-tainted breath fanned over my face, and desire pooled in my belly.

"Do you understand me, Josephine?"

"Wow, you're using my full name? I must really be in trouble," I snickered. Any sane person would immediately agree to appease someone like Butcher with his bugged-out eyes and bared teeth. But I had fallen off my rocker years ago.

My breath hitched when Butcher raised his hand to my neck and squeezed in a warning. "I would choose your next words very carefully, princess."

I stared up at Butcher, challenging him as our breaths began to mingle. "You can't tell me what to do."

"Yes, but that won't stop me from throwin' ya' over my knee and spankin' your arse till it’s red and raw. I don't care if we're in the middle of the goddamn street. I bet your other druggie friends around here would like a little show."

My pussy clenched desperately as images of Butcher punishing me out in the open like that swarmed my mind, but I reeled them back in as I did my best to keep myself together. I prayed he didn't notice my quickened heartbeat and sweat that now coated my forehead, telltale signs that my body craved for him to take control of me right here, right now.

With much-needed force, I shoved Butcher off of me and watched in satisfaction as he stumbled back. His shoelaces flew around his feet instead of doing their actual job and keeping his boots laced up.

"Don't make promises you can't keep. It's not attractive on a man your age," I commented passively as I opened the passenger's side door and plopped down in the car.

I kept my eyes staring straight ahead as Butcher rounded the front of the car and gruffly sat down behind the wheel before starting the engine. He navigated the narrow streets of New York City, weaving between cabs and delivery trucks and honking at pedestrians loitering on the curbs. "These fuckin' kids have no place better to be? When I was their age, I had a job to keep and rent to pay. I didn't have time to hang around street corners like a fuckin' muppet until my next wank."

"Yeah, well, when you were their age, electricity was still new, so people liked staying indoors more."

I couldn't resist peaking over at Butcher to see his reaction, and I caught him rolling his eyes before changing lanes. "Good to know all that dust didn't wipe out your charmin' personality."

"Actually, I didn't do any lines last night. I was a good girl and stuck with some nice MDMA. Aren't you proud of me?" I asked, with a mocking smile as I twisted my shoulders to face Butcher head-on.

"I don't think proud is the right word, sweetheart. More like so bloody furious I might handcuff you to your bed so ya’ can't sneak out again."

I raised my brows as my smile turned from mocking to teasing. "Damn, I didn't realize you liked to get so frisky, old man. Exactly how deep into BDSM are you? I mean, for someone with your level of anger issues, I'd guess pretty far."

Butcher growled, illegally parking his car in the alley next to the pawn shop. He slammed on the brakes, throwing me forward, and dug his fingers into the roots of my hair, tugging till my eyes bored into his own. "Get out of my fuckin' car before I make good on my earlier threat. Don't be so naive, darlin', to assume I would pass up the opportunity to teach ya’ a lesson on obedience, you little cunt."

My arousal from earlier returned, more powerful than before, and I was all but panting when Butcher used the hand that wasn't holding my skull captive to throw my door open. "Get," he barked.

After I removed my seatbelt, noting how my hands shook ever so slightly, Butcher shoved me out of the automobile. I had barely landed on the ground, my boots thudding loudly in the process before Butcher was zooming away. His tailpipe blew exhaust all over me, and I coughed and sputtered, throwing my middle finger up in the air, hoping he would see it in the review mirror.

When his Cadillac was around the corner and out of sight, I turned on my heels and headed into the small pawn shop. I avoided making eye contact with the tattooed man behind the counter and quickly descended the basement steps.

I kicked off my boots and tossed aside my jeans and shirt after entering my room and climbed into bed. I curled up into a tight ball as I tried to ignore the intense throbbing between my legs because I refused to give in to the pleasure that I so desperately craved. Even though it wasn't necessarily true, it felt as if touching myself to the memory of Butcher's harsh yet tantalizing threat felt like I would be letting him win. Winning what, I wasn't sure. Nevertheless, I was too sore of a loser to go through with it.

Eventually, I began drifting in and out of sleep, and it was only when I couldn't take anymore that I pulled my underwear to the side and ran a finger through my slick folds.

I shivered, biting my lip as I attempted to suppress a moan that was on the tip of my tongue. Once my restrain was broken, there was no holding back. I pushed two fingers into my dripping hole and wasted no time in finding a fast tempo. The heel of my hand slapped against my swollen clit every time my fingers entered my cunt, and I came embarrassingly quick.

After clearing my head from my intense orgasm, I examined the juices that coated my thighs. This was all Butcher's fault. If it weren't for him, I wouldn't be such a fucking mess right now.

Resigned to the fact that I needed a shower, I tiptoed through the common area, desperate not to be caught in this state, and snuck into the cramped bathroom. I wish I could say that I practiced the art of self-restraint and didn't touch myself again as Butcher's voice echoed in my head, but that would be a lie. It wasn't until the water ran cold and my legs began to weaken that I actually cleaned myself up before darting back to my room and swiftly passing out in bed.

༺༻

I woke up to panic ensuing in the common area. I stumbled out of my room and regarded the scene through my sleep-hazed vision. Everyone was running around tossing things in bags as they threw clipped commands at each other.

Finally, MM spotted me and rushed over, shoving an empty duffel bag into my hands. "Pack fast, kid, we gotta go.”

"Why, what's going on?" I called as he crossed the room and busied himself, placing our spare laptops and other electronics into brown corrugated boxes.

"We've been burned, mon ami," Frenchie informed me as he passed by, with his arms full of different bottled chemicals.

It took me a moment to process what he said before my heart stopped, and I clutched the bag closer to my chest. "What? How in the fuck did that happen?"

“Don't know," Butcher said, loading his handheld. "But, my guess is that someone spotted ya’ at that little swarae you went to last night and followed ya' back here."

"No, there's no way," I insisted. "I knew everyone there, and none of them would ever do that to me-"

Butcher charged forward, abandoning his gun on the coffee table as his eyes darkened in anger. "Don't be such a daft cunt. Of course, one of them turned ya’ in. You're the most wanted criminal in the fuckin' country; turnin' ya’ in is the dream of every junkie in the Tri-State Area who's desperate to get their possession charges wiped from their record. You handed yourself over to them, all wrapped up in a crimson bow."

I opened my mouth to debate Butcher, but MM walked in between us, pausing the dispute. "Butcher, I get that you wanna to rip her a new one, but we gotta leave. We're lucky if Homelander isn't already here.

I glared up at Butcher, conveying that if it weren't for MM, I wouldn't be backing down from this fight.

"Go," MM begged, pushing me back into my room. "Pack only the essentials."

I took a deep breath to steady my racing heart as I threw the ripped duffle on the floor and knelt under my bed, pulling out all of my belongings, which consisted of another pair of black jeans, a couple of t-shirts, some magazines, my hygiene products, and my earbuds.

I dumped everything into the bag, forgoing any form of folding or organizing, and swung the bag over my shoulder before heading back into the common area, surveying the chaos that was still transpiring. I had already pulled my clothes and boots from earlier back on, so I was all set to go. Since that was the case, I offered myself to MM, helping him finish packing the rest of our equipment.

Minutes later, an eery silence fell over the group as we huddled together before Butcher spoke. "I think it's best if we split up. For safety, that is. We'll be harder to track in smaller groups, thus makin' it harder for those twats to find us. We can meet back up in a couple of weeks or so once things have calmed down a tad."

"Butcher's right," MM agreed. "So the question now is who's going with who?"

Kimiko quickly linked her arm with Frenchie as she smiled, signaling to the rest of us that they were paired up.

"Alright, kid. You're with me," MM said, waving a hand to Hughie.

Misery settled in my bones when I realized my fate.

I was stuck with Butcher.

The devil himself flashed a toothy grin at me as he trotted over and slid an arm across my shoulder. "I guess that means you're with me, princess."

"Shoot me," I groaned as I pushed Butcher away and followed the rest of the group up the rickety stairs for the last time. Even though the place was a fucking hole, and I had honestly been in crack dens that were nicer, I was still going to miss it. In the three months that we'd lived here, we'd managed to make it a home, and I had enjoyed the feeling of having one after so long on the run.

I exchanged goodbyes with the rest of the group: a kiss on both cheeks from Frenchie, a pat on the back from MM, a hug from Hughie, and another bone-crushing one from Kimiko. She stepped back and beamed up at me as she moved her hands into different positions, communicating with me. I recognized them from the time she had spent teaching me her sign language. "Bye. Be safe. I love you," she said, and I signed the same sentiment back to her.

"Oi," Butcher yelled, opening the trunk of his Cadillac. "We don’t got all bleein' day, sweetheart, unless ya' wanna die by Homelander laserin' your gams off."

I rolled my eyes before hugging Kimiko one more time and jogged over to Butcher. "No, I'd prefer if my gams were left unscathed."

I dropped my duffle bag into his trunk before rounding the car and settling myself in the passenger seat. I watched everyone peel away in their respective vehicles, and my stomach knotted at the realization that I was now alone with Butcher, and that's how it would be for the next few weeks. Fourteen days might not seem that long to some people, but spending the entire time with someone you simultaneously hated and loved sounded like borderline torture.

"Here," Butcher mumbled, dropping a blanket in my lap before turning the key in the ignition, and the old car roared to life.

My brows creased as I ran my fingers over the soft fabric. "What's this for?"

"S'pposed to be quite chilly tonight, and we've got a long drive ahead of us," he replied, avoiding my eyes and instead focusing on the road ahead.

"Oh." A warmth covered my cheeks, and I kept my head down, pretending to hyperanalyze the blanket.

The conversation ended there as Butcher turned on the radio and cranked up the heat. Don Mclean's voice spilled from the staticky speakers, and I curled up with Butcher's blanket, appreciating the extra warmth. I didn't bother to ask where we were going because I soon learned our destination when Butcher entered the highway and followed a green sign that had New Hampshire printed in bold letters.

My head began lulling to the side before I finally rested it on the window, and my eyes fell shut, letting sleep take over for the second time that day.

༺༻

“Oi, sleepin' beauty, get the hell up. We're here."

"Where?" I asked groggily as I brushed the hair out of my face. I noticed the greased strands at the crown of my head and made a mental note to take a shower the first chance I got.

"Haverhill, New Hampshire." Butcher announced before departing from the car and walking around to the trunk.

I stumbled out of the automobile after him and wrapped the blanket he gave me around my shoulders. As I leaned against the car, I yawned as I waited for him to get the bags. My eyes traveled the expanse of our surroundings that I could see so late in the night: green grass, red brick buildings, and paved streets. When I finally looked at Butcher, I saw him with both our bags in hand, regarding me with an expression I wasn't used to. His features were softer, not forced into hard lines like they usually were.

"What?" I prompted, wrapping the blanket tighter around my frame. The Brit silently shook his head before walking past me and up the stairs of the quaint Bed and Breakfast he had chosen for us to stay at for the time being. I hurried after him and nodded in appreciation as he held the door open for me.

I was immediately greeted with decor that exuded way too many pastels. Floral wallpaper and dried flowers covered the walls. The whole place looked as if it had fallen from a Beatrice Potter book. Butcher rang the bell at the front desk before shoving his hands in his coat pockets and whistling an unintelligible tune under his breath.

After a brief waiting period, an older man with snow-white hair exited the back room, smiling widely at us. "Good evening, travelers. Welcome to Ed and Eva's Inn."

I had to turn away, snorting at the corny name. And even though I tried to be discrete, Butcher pinched my arm, causing me to whine softly. But he ignored the sound as he focused on making introductions with who I assumed to be Ed, one of the owners of the Inn.

"Evenin', Govonor. Fancy givin' us a room?"

"With two beds," I added.

Butcher merely shushed me before turning back to Ed. "Preferably one with a nice view."

"I've got the perfect room for you both!" Ed beamed as he opened a drawer under the counter and produced a shiny brass key. "How long are you folks staying?"

"Don't know. But we'll be here for at least a couple weeks."

"Wonderful." Ed clasped his hands together before adjusting his green cardigan sweater. "It's forty a night."

"I'll cough up five hundred and sixty smackers upfront. Sound good, mate?"

Ed agreed, and Butcher pulled out his wallet and handed him multiple hundred-dollar bills. "I only pay in cash. I don't trust those dodgy banks."

"Fine by me. We don't even have any fancy gadgets you need for credit cards anyway," the elderly owner chuckled.

Upon his words, I took inventory of the front desk, noticing it indeed lacked a computer and anything resembling something from this century.

"So, where are you folks traveling from?" Ed asked as he began counting the cash.

"Boston," Butcher said, wrapping an arm around my waist. "We're actually here on our honeymoon."

"Oh, well, isn't that sweet," Ed smiled as he handed the key over.

"We're not actually married," I cut in. "It's more of a legal agreement if you want to know the truth. He's gay." I pointed to Butcher. "I'm just his pesky beard. You know how that goes." I waved a hand as Butcher tugged me away from Ed and up the flight of stairs. I'd never forget the look of shock Ed had, and I knew it would comfort me in many years to come.

Butcher grumbled profanities as we stopped outside of our room and fumbled with the key. He threw the door open, and we were met with what I could only describe as Cinderella's bedroom.

"Ugh, it looks like a fairy godmother threw up in here."

"I think it's lovely," Butcher proclaimed, dropping our bags and walking over to close the curtains.

"Of course you do. You only like it because I don't."

Butcher made a snarky reply, but I missed it because my eyes had finally landed on the bed in the middle of the room—the one bed, to be exact.

There was one fucking bed.

Fuck me.

₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊ ₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊ ₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊ ₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊ ₊ . ⋆ ⁺ ݃ ⁺ ⋆ . ₊

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sarucane · 10 months

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Did Ed really want to die?

In a juicy spiral of nuanced psychological storytelling, I think the answer to this question is both yes and no, and so actually a it's a third answer:Ed wanted dying and living at the same time.

When Ed tells Lucius a song that goes "fingers bleeding, down to the bone now...hold on, hold on, hold on," Lucius recognizes it as a hell of a bad mental state. Lucius suggests Ed let go, and Ed says that'd be death.

Lucius then offers a third possibility: that dying won't be a death.

So Ed tries to throw himself into that. And when he actually sings, his song is the opposite of the one from before.

The stories we choose to tell reveal things about us. At the beginning of S1, Stede told a story about a wooden puppet becoming a real boy, pointing to his desire to "really live." At the end of the season, Ed's inner contradictory desires move from subtext to text through his amateur songwriting. He wants to hang on, he wants to let go and can't make himself, and "life's a hard sad death."

And then this all gets further mucked up when Izzy comes in and threatens "Edward," (who could get reborn) and says only "Blackbeard" gets to live. Ed releases his silk and throws Lucius over the side: the third options Stede and Lucius have made him drram of are out of reach.

Except then, when Ed embraces Blackbeard, he's embracing death: he paints himself up to look like a fucking ghoul.

Wanting to live and wanting to die are basically the same thing for Ed now. He's got no lighthouse to steer away from or toward (and a lighthouse is after all another double symbol, something to guide and something to avoid).

And finally we get Ed's story in S2E1, about a bird that "can't actually exist." Ed wants to live, and he wants to die, and he wants to be a bird that spends its life in the air, that exists outside of the struggles of life and death, that just keeps flying without any differentiation between where it came from and where it's going. But the bird is also a version of that third option, to live and die at the same time: It's alive and it's dead, its whole existence is in the sky and therefore it never really lives, never stops, never feels or hurts. It's everything and nothing at the same time, suspended.

And even when Ed makes a decision that should end the conflict between wanting both life and death--decides at the start of E2 that he's going to die today--he doesn't go at it directly. He tries to get Izzy to do it; he provokes the crew to mutiny, leaving repeated openings to be stopped while also plowing forward. Until, finally, the decision is taken out of his hands.

The result of all this is internal conflict manifests externally and drives the plot at the start of S2. The conflict is seeded from the beginning, as Ed reigns over violence while barely participating, moons over Stede and threatens Izzy.

And from the moment Izzy confronts Ed, knocks him out of his state of "flying," Ed does things that contradict each other. He asks the crew if "the vibe is poisonous" while pointing a gun at them. He points a gun at his own head and asks if the vibe is poisonous, then tells the truth, to general confusion. He says he doesn't feel crazy while doing something clearly crazy. He shoots Izzy, then tells Frenchie to kill him. If Ed wanted Izzy dead, he'd have chosen someone else. Frenchie isn't the type to slit a throat in cold blood, and Ed's not a moron. There was no way that was going to happen.

Or so he thinks, because then he's in the gravy basket. Hornigold represents his unconscious, his desire to both live and die: First, Hornigold saves him. Drags him off the beach and forces him to eat, to keep living. But then Hornigold drives him to despair, brings up the core crises of guilt, loss, fear, and insecurity (his dad's murder, Stede leaving) that pushed Ed down the path that led him here. And in the end, Hornigold speaks Ed's insecurities back to him. That he's unlovable, and that he's scared to do the only thing to do about it: kill himself. So he brought Hornigold to do it for him.

And then Ed's living and dying at the same time, again. He's struggling against the rope, and he is the rope hauling himself down.

Everyone needs help, sometimes.

Ed sees Stede as a merman, "Something that can't actually exist." But something Ed hadn't expected. Down here, in his darkness and unconscious, a light. And then the pros outweigh the cons by quite a lot, and he doesn't even notice when the desire for death fades away.

He isn't a bird that never touches ground: he's on the ground, he's under the water. But he is something that he thought maybe couldn't exist. A version of himself that can change.

Ed gets what he really wanted. He dies, and he lives.

#ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd #ofmd s2 #our flag means death #ofmd spoilers #ofmd meta #ed teach #blackbonnet #stede bonnet #gentlebeard

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funky-little-archivist · 11 months

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Okay besties listen to me right now. Here’s how steddyhands can still win (real and true)

Stede and Ed clearly love each other very much, but they just can’t seem to stop fighting. They can’t seem to get on quite the same page, and this is a problem they’ve had from the start. They both want different things at the end of the day, and they just haven’t been able to reconcile that issue. Ed wants to explore non pirate life, which he’s never really had a chance to do, while Stede wants to explore pirate life for the exact same reason. I can’t really point at either of them and say that either of these things are wrong or they’re being intentionally malicious with each other. I also can’t point at the writers and complain about them stringing us along when all we want is for gentlebeard to be happy because this feels like very natural progression for both of them. As I said, they’ve been heading in this direction from the very start of the show.

So you know what I think they need? A stabilizing force. An anchor. A mediator. These are two whim-proned people who need someone to keep them grounded. And who’s sitting right there waiting for the chance to do exactly that? Izzy.

All season, apart from the parts where he was mourning blackbeard and the loss of his leg, izzy has been doing pretty much exactly that for both of them. Yes last season izzy was pretty much nothing but toxic for Ed, encouraging the worst parts of him. But he’s since come to regret that and was actively the one that stopped his downwards spiral. And he’s been coaching Stede, getting to know him better and teaching him how to pirate properly. This season izzy has really been encouraging both of them towards the goals they had at the start of season 1, in a way, making them the versions of themselves they want to be. But it does seem like he doesn’t intend for Stede to go off the deep end like Ed did either, as izzy discouraged him getting into the bar fight and kept trying to make him back down. I don’t think season 1 izzy would have ever done that for Ed. He’d have wanted blackbeard to defend his reputation. I think izzy wants them to be better, and as he said he actively approves of and encourages Stede and Ed’s relationship. He knows that they’re good for each other, and he doesn’t necessarily want to see them break up. But he also wants them to be the best versions of themselves.

And I’m honestly starting to think that’s what they need. As I said, they need a calming force, because both of them are very active passionate energies in their own way. But here’s the thing, I could be crazy but I’m actually starting to suspect maybe there’s a chance the show is going in this direction as well? I mean I could be reading too much into it, and listen I’ll be the last to put faith into this kind of theorizing again. But listen

How could it possibly not have been intentional to have izzy serenade Ed and stede’s first time together? It could have been literally anyone. It could have been frenchie, we’ve seen him sing before. But no, it was izzy, he got glammed up, showing his immense emotional growth and maturity compared to the first season, and had him practically sing his blessings for their relationship. And yes, maybe that’s all it was meant to symbolize, that izzy approves now and has moved on. Except he so clearly hasn’t moved on (we all saw that heart eyes stare he gave Ed in man on fire) and for me it’s the fact that he actually played an active part in their scene together, at least for the audience. He set the mood guys. In a sort of metatextual way, izzy was part of Ed and stede’s love scene.

And then there’s the fact that the show has been exploring non traditional non monogamist relationships for the entire season. I mean, already in season 1 we had Lucius telling izzy that they don’t get jealous when izzy tried to use that against him, but now we have olu and Jim actively celebrating each other’s relationships with other people despite still sort of being in some kind on non platonic relationship (shown by olu calling Jim babe during the safe space stand still scene). Olu, Jim and Archie sort of formed a straight up throuple? And then olu and zheng almost invited Jim and Archie to? Share a room with them?? Maybe? Whatever the case, it’s all fluid. And that’s okay! This type of relationship fluidity has been so normalized on the show, I don’t really see a reason for them to get precious about Stede and Ed being the only exclusive couple. At it makes sense, sexual fluidity has always been an integral part of the queer community and it’s so refreshing to see it represented here realistically. (Not to say that monogamy isn’t also accepted and valid in queer spaces but many shows have and will continue to represent that. It’s nice to see a representation of the less traditional, less “sanitized” side of queerness.) (edit: AND LET’S NOT FORGET SPANISH JACKIE! hell she was doing it before anyone else)

And hey as a bisexual myself I understand not everyone will like this allusion but I did see someone say that izzy is quite literally Ed and stede’s unicorn lmao. So. there’s that.

And not that this would be a perfect solution to all their problems either. I don’t want izzy to just continue to play custodian to Ed’s problems and add stede’s to that as well, not to mention that izzy and Ed have SO much work to do to fix their mess of a relationship. But I just think maybe all three of them can help balance each other out, mediate each side of the triangle. The dynamic would just be so satisfyingly perfect, and hey, a stool can’t hold up anything with just two legs, but with three it is stable.

Anyway, basically I’m starting to see it guys and maybe I’m crazy but maybe there’s actually a chance here. Again, I’m by no means saying this is 100% going to happen, and most likely I’m seeing things they didn’t intend. But from interviews from David jenkins and the cast, to subtext in the show, I think maybe there’s a non zero chance. Either way, I cannot wait to see what this show has in store for us in the last three episodes.

#ofmd #our flag means death #gentlebeard #blackbonnet #steddyhands #Stede bonnet #Edward teach #izzy hands #ofmd season 2 #ofmd s2 #stizzy #blackhands #ofmd meta

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ladyluscinia · 11 months

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Izzy, Bottles, and Apologies

Izzy's arc in S2 has been a wild ride.

The S1 Izzy enjoyers are feeling vindicated as hell, many people are fully revising their opinion of him, and the people still hating him have a new criticism or off the wall theory daily. David Jenkins LOVES Izzy and is having the time of his life trying to make sure everyone else does too. They had Con O'Neill sing in drag!

And naturally I have thoughts.

This is gonna be a two part post, I think. First, as much as people are celebrating Izzy having realized his arc and come into his own - from the singing to the apparent BlackBonnet shipping - there are some threads they could pull on that might reveal more arc to come. And I am really hoping they pull them, so I'm gonna tell you why you should too!

And second, I have some minor points I dislike and concerns that this might be the end of the arc. Which would be disappointing but I think I get why, so I'm gonna discuss that too.

To start...

---

"How are you handling all this so well?"

Here's the thing about S2 Izzy - while I need to be clear his behavior is not OOC or inconsistent with S1, it is happening rather fast. I'm pretty sure that has a lot to do with out of universe reasons I'll get into later, but in-universe it stands out. Now, he's hardly the only one operating on an accelerated schedule - the timeline for this season is an insanely fast not-even-two-weeks - but Izzy's defining struggle in S1 was fear of change. That was the cause of his friction with Edward, and what made him an antagonist in the first place.

In S2 he's gone through a lot of trauma, yes, but that fear is noticeably less present than I would expect.

Izzy in 2x06 has been cleaned up from his sobbing mess phase for just over 48 hours and he faces Edward with a joke, and then that night sings a moving French serenade to the crew. The next morning he's teasing them about finally hooking up and spends the day offering both Stede and Edward relationship advice.

He's a newly realized man... shedding repression and embracing who he could be. Accepting his breakup with Edward and trying to openly support the relationship that's better for him.

It's fun!

It's also, potentially, a bit of a flag. Maybe not a red one, not yet, but... pink-ish? A bit orange?

Let's look a little closer at those frayed edges.

---

"Well, you see, I have a system..."

There's an exchange from right at the start of the Pilot episode that has echoed through the entire series so far:

"Bottle it up?" -> "No, Frenchie! No, that's the worst thing you could do!"

Not talking to other people, not addressing your traumas... that's the kind of shit that just builds and builds inside you. When the cork eventually pops, the resulting damage can be a lot. Look at the finale of S1, where all of Stede's bottled up guilt and insecurities laid waste to his relationship with Edward, and then inadvertently became the first domino in the Kraken.

S2 is quick to bring this scene back into the forefront. The first time we see the Breakup Boat crew talking in 2x01, Frenchie reveals that "Bottle it up?" wasn't just a random comment he made, but a philosophy of his:

"Ah - well, you see, I have a system for dealing with all the terrible things I've seen. There's a box, in my mind, and I put the things in the box, I lock the box, and then I don't open it again. Works like a charm."

Apparently, Frenchie is the only one it actually seems to be working for.

Now, the show has been drawing some interesting lines between Frenchie and Izzy. From both serving as Blackbeard's First Mate to being frequently shown as a duo - tormenting Navy guys together on Sunday's raid, Frenchie holding Izzy's hand, Frenchie leaning on Izzy's leg in the cell, Frenchie behind him raising the flag in 2x05 - it's fitting that Izzy echoes Frenchie's preferred coping method. First he frames the non-acknowledgement of harm from Edward as just... part of piracy. He's a pirate, so he's fine with it.

And then we get Izzy's little whittled shark reveal and the conversation with Lucius about his leg:

"I don't know what you're talking about. Shark did this... dangling my legs over the side of the ship. Served me right, too."

Lucius calls him out on the unhealthy behavior, and Izzy concedes his point:

"O-kay, that seems healthy. Using a bit of fiction to help cover up your trauma." -> "Yeah, well... not moving on is worse. Twatty."

And to give him credit, he's right in his advice to Lucius. Filling his sketchbook with pages and pages of Blackbeard trauma is Lucius's form of bottling it up - thinking in endless recursive circles about his tumble off the ship and everything that followed. We already know chasing revenge instead of living is bad - Jim and Spanish Jackie established it last season, and Pete just echoed them. When Izzy advises Lucius to move on, that's what Lucius does.

But what Izzy is doing with the shark? That's not the same thing at all. He's lost a leg, grazed a bullet off his own head, and was snarling drunken accusations at himself in the mirror... he's not moving on from that. He's bottling it up with a nice dose of self-blame.

Cutting the legs off the unicorn for not doing it's job right and saying "served me right" about his fictional shark? There's a real dark knot of emotions there.

(Recall, too, that Edward deflected his hurt from Stede's abandonment into a "fictional character" during his chats with Lucius, and that delayed the explosion but couldn't stop it.)

So... Izzy's definitely coping with trauma in a way the show does not advise and often circles back to. Can we see any signs in 2x06 and 2x07?

---

The Weight of Things Unsaid

At the very start of 2x06, Izzy gets the thing he spent all of 2x05 mentally bracing himself to never hear - an apology from Edward for his leg. He walks up to initiate conversation and begins talking like nothing has changed. Edward is back in his leathers. Appropriate, given that his penance onesie was nothing genuine, just "how long do I have to wear this fucking thing for?" And Izzy is ready for them not to address the obvious hurt, to just smooth over a few jabs and go back to normal... but even Edward's mumbled little "Sorry about your leg" is so significant and difficult he flees as soon as he gets it out, leaving Izzy to sit, incredulous, with the acknowledgement.

It's still almost definitely not enough.

There was so much between them in 2x01 - 2x03. The writers literally did BlackHands love confessions on both sides. An apology from Edward Teach - a man who historically does not apologize - is a huge first step but still only the first step. The real things unsaid are so much bigger than a leg.

We get something else, too... Edward commenting on Izzy's drinking.

"Jesus. Really putting that away, aren't ya?"

Izzy has had booze a lot this season. He lost a leg and pain meds aren't really an option, so not surprising, but notable. Edward, advocating for substance abuse to deal with bad feelings, calls him a lightweight in 2x01. When they are found with the dead seabird in 2x03, Izzy takes a pointed drink from his bottle, and then 2x04 he spends the entire episode completely plastered. He seemingly sobered up for 2x05 - probably to focus on sword training and his whittling project - but now the bottle is back again before Izzy disappears for several hours.

And a little liquid courage might explain his going all in for the Calypso's Birthday performance.

I do appreciate that the performance on it's face is something completely unexpected for Izzy, but when thinking about it... it does make sense.

We already know music and performance were available on Blackbeard's ship even before Stede. Edward learned to play shanties on the piano somewhere, and singing is a common and encouraged part of sailing culture. Izzy's choice of song to perform is something a lot more emotional, but this is probably not his first performance for a crew.

Makeup, too, is in fashion for men and women at this time, and OFMD has shown it as such before. Izzy has never worn fashion makeup, or tried to be beautiful, but the concept wouldn't be alien to him. Wee John's description of a dramatic party look might even have intrigued him specifically because Izzy has actually done "looks" before - of the terrifying "theatre of fear" kind. The Kraken did have his whole crew in makeup for their raids. Taking the opportunity to embody something a bit more vulnerable and try to bring joy to this crew that took care of him is meaningful as fuck.

And it's still a drag performance!

It's a good pair of moments - before and after Ned. Proof that all this isn't just coping method - that's not what I'm arguing here - and even if Izzy's still bottling up a lot of feelings he's not doing the same full pressure bomb thing as he did in S1. There's been growth!

(This is why the flags are only pink-ish / orange-ish right now.)

Episode 2x07 though... I'm not so sure he's doing good as much as pretending it's all good.

Showing up to make his joke in the morning is a fun moment. I especially enjoy Edward's little "fuck off" with no bite to it 🤣🤣🤣 Reminder they do live together on a ship, so this is likely not even close to the first morning-after that Izzy has gotten front row seats to. But, at least to me, there's also a very performative feeling about it. Izzy being very Look how normal I can be about you fucking your boyfriend, Ed - and Edward picks up on it too. That's why he turns to Stede and whispers "He's jealous" as Izzy walks away.

Izzy continues to make jokes and give advice through the day to our main couple, but he's... subdued. I think his fake chill also disguises that he and Edward aren't on the same page about what they discuss at the docks, hence his poor advice to "listen to it" when the "it" in question is Edward's immediate desire to run away from Stede and become a fisherman. They are talking again, but haven't resumed communicating.

I also think it's relevant that Izzy goes to try and support Stede after Edward dumps him, because we're still waiting for Stede to stop bottling things up. He doesn't talk about Badminton or feelings of inadequacy or even the babiest little olive branch to Edward about "hey my dad kinda sucked too." Edward's two exes are sitting in the bar corner together, thinking about all the shit they won't talk to him about until it kills all three of them. Exciting!

The pressure is building. It has to circle back to Stede in S3. I'm hoping at the same time, it circles back to Izzy, too.

Hoping we get to explore some of his anxiety, and his internalizing negative self-image and blame. At the moment, I think Izzy might have less gotten over his anxieties and more just let go of the wheel of his life entirely, and fortunately had people around to steer him in okay directions. It would be really interesting to explore that more.

(Even if I have some concerns they may not.)

---

Subtle as a Cannonball to the Face

Izzy's character arc was always going to be a long journey - not because he was somehow morally worse than everyone else, or required particularly painstaking growth, or even because there was going to be some great need to "hold him accountable" for S1. No, it was going to be a long journey from an antagonist start for the same reason I mentioned earlier: Izzy's core struggle is fear of change.

OFMD opens with two protagonists recklessly pursuing change in ways that harm themselves, their relationships, and others, and a primary onscreen antagonist resisting change in a way that harms himself, his relationships, and others. There's no easy morality here - they all fuck up. And they all require the entire show to actually figure out the correct balance of change and growth and facing the past.

"I think the three of them are on an arc together that's pretty inseparable." - David Jenkins (Source, 9 Oct 2023)

So... why is there a chance that everything I've mentioned above is going absolutely nowhere and Izzy's arc has been wrapped up with a bow in S2?

Well.

It's late March 2022, the fandom's age is still only countable in weeks, I personally haven't even watched the pilot yet, had only even heard of the show 3 days before... and one of David Jenkins first post-finale statements is telling people to pay attention to Izzy's POV and his and Edward's love story on rewatches (Source, 25 Mar 2022), and then soon after comparing Stede to a homewrecker in Edward and Izzy's toxic marriage (Source, 15 Apr 2022). Lots of links because this stuff was available to the fandom from the start.

By the first half of May 2022 (while poor Mr. Jenkins is still anxiously trying to get his series renewed for S2, since the confirmation won't come until June 1) the takes on Izzy have soured a lot. It's not a "homophobic gay" joke anymore. Now it's "Izzy is the embodiment of colonialism who enforces a racist and homophobic ideal of Blackbeard on Edward" and "pretending Izzy could be canonically gay is homophobic" and "Izzy bought Edward as a slave from the British". Harassing anons have already started on tumblr. No first hand experience with Twitter but I've heard horror stories. These takes are spreading like wildfire through the fandom, with a heavy backing of white fans accepting and spreading anything that sounds vaguely racially-conscious as something they just missed in their privilege and need to listen to POC about. Or listen to other white fans that say they've been listening to POC.

The anchor hoist in 1x09 (that was a complete directing coincidence, as the crew confirmed in late May) is being taken as incontrovertible proof that Izzy is a violent racist, and the relatively small Izzy fandom pushing back against any of these reads is being likened to toxic fangirls declaring Kylo Ren a poor widdle victim because they think violent white guys are so hot their brains fall out. This is happening loudly and in the public forums of social media.

Can you imagine being David Jenkins right then?

This is one of your favorite little guys, who you wrote a silly little homoerotic pirate jealousy arc for. He's kinda cringefail and tends to be a dick, but you cast a guy who you think embodies him with so much sympathy and genuine emotion. You're so excited to explore his direct relationship to the main couple of your series even more. Unfortunately, you and a lot of the cast and crew are also engaging maybe a bit too much in fandom spaces, which very few of you have much familiarity with navigating as creators. AND there's still renewal stress!

If I were him, I too would consider that perhaps my intended Izzy arc was a bit too nuanced and drawn out, and maybe I needed to clear up some misconceptions as soon as I got the opportunity.

Enter S2.

MAX reduced the budget for the season significantly and it shows - particularly in the whole thing having to squeeze into 8 episodes - and I wouldn't be surprised at all if worries over a S3 renewal / S3 budget impacted S2 writing as well. Character arcs got pinched, goals had to be prioritized... and from the looks of the season, "make sure everyone knows Izzy is not a homophobic villain tormenting Edward as fast as possible" came out as a big goal.

I mean they open with a dream sequence that literally mocks the idea of a heroic Stede rescuing Edward from the dastardly Izzy. It's not subtle.

And the lack of subtlety is kind of what's concerning me.

Izzy's arc is (I think) leaving enough threads that they can extend it into S3 with the reveal he's not actually fine and done developing, but they also seem to want his S2 arc to end in a place where maybe he is. Lots of giant signs pointing to him and saying "Look! Everyone likes him!" or "Look! He's also gay!" at the expense of some of his cringefail or dickish charm. My guy had anxiety he dealt with poorly in S1, and I do think they are trying to frontload or adjust the arc so he's basically (or at least seemingly) over that before the next hiatus.

The best way I've seen it described is that the show no longer trusts the audience to pick up what they are putting down, and so they feel the need to really hammer it in. Not necessarily OOC, but definitely de-emphasizing any of his rough edges that were originally just written to not be any worse than the other characters.

This is why Izzy gets shot by Edward in the very first episode for a bunch of complicated reasons that are really good character work and not super hard to discern, but then later they have Izzy point out to Stede why he got shot twice. It's all very "look into the camera and say the themes", because to some degree they are afraid everyone is going to get easily convinced Edward shot him for calling him a namby-pamby that one time.

It makes me worried they are too afraid of misinterpretation to commit to the arc they originally conceived of, even with the finish line in sight in S3.

And, again, I get it, Mr. Jenkins. In October 2022 he made a funny quip and a boner joke on a tweet about Edward's blanket fort and the hordes descended to scream victoriously about how he was cutting down the Izzy stans for their racist infantilization crimes of thinking Izzy would *checks notes* help hold up a blanket. It's a very reasonable conclusion that this fandom cannot read and needs to be spoonfed Izzy's arc.

It just sucks that a toxic section of fandom's misinterpretations appear to have undercut a strong - and, honestly, not that complicated - character arc so much that S2's BlackBonnet arc can be about fuck ups and backsliding, but Izzy needs at least the illusion of having no flaws left come hiatus time.

#our flag means death #ofmd s2 #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd meta #my meta #izzy hands ofmd #izzy hands #character arcs #ofmd 2x06 #ofmd 2x07 #and here's my associated izzy meta because i love to talk about both my blorbos lol #ladyluscinia #david jenkins

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beethebisblog · 1 year

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Episode 9: You’re Dropping Out of RYDELL.

We finally got a Shy Guy name drop!!! Edward! I love him. I am so glad they talked it out and Cynthia apologized.

Someone said what if he’s gay, and honestly I can see it. We love to see wlw mlm solidarity. (Someone said wlw mlm hostility last week and I cried laughing because #accurate)

Nancy’s plot line this whole episode.. girl I have been the one trying to keep friendships together, I am so glad it was mostly successful for you. I’m glad she didn’t go back to her old friends because she already has three best friends. “I’m in love with our friendship” me too

Now she and Potato need to actually have a conversation, but I have a feeling they will resolve things amongst themselves.

SOMEONE ARREST THAT CRAZY, PERVERT AND GET HIM AWAY FROM MY 16 YEAR OLD CHILD PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

Jane and McGee 🫶 girl power fr

Cynthia and Gil: I’m having feelings I don’t want them. Have a beer. 😭😂

Buddy acknowledging that none of this would have happened if he had JUST BEEN HONEST

SOMEONE ARREST THAT CRAZY, PERVERT AND GET HIM AWAY FROM MY 16 YEAR OLD CHILD PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF GOD

Go Hazel, always having the right words for Buddy.

Glad Buddy stood up for Susan. The moment in the home ec room was really sweet.

Cynthia and Jane and Nancy made up good!!

THE SONG THEY ALL SANG TOGETHER WAS SO GOOD I MISSED THEM ALL SINGING TOGETHER

Olivia, girl, if you have to ask yourself if you are just afraid of being lonely, the answer is probably yes, just TALK TO YOUR FRIENDS

We got like halfway through the episode without a song and I was so confused lol.

Nancy’s vision thingy in the Frosty Palace was very much an homage to Frenchy’s, and I loved it.

The girls comforting Jane at the end 😭🫶

Jane’s sad puppy dog eyes at Olivia in her house, I know what you are.

For the finale, here’s what I think will happen: they are going to try to disrupt the wedding process, someone is going to get richie, Nicholson is going to decide that Buddy and richie should stay at RYDELL in some work around “I’m so smart” way, Lydia and Cynthia are going to talk!!!, Hazel and Buddy are going to have/ talk about their little moments? (I want someone to acknowledge them because I want to like them, but at the same time, it’s Buddy), Susan and Olivia convo???

I can’t believe there’s only ONE more episode

There was a criminal amount of Richie this episode. (But that’s better than the creepy CGI superimposed one from 1.08)

#grease rise of the pink ladies #pink ladies #jane facciano #cynthia zdunowski #nancy nakagawa #t birds #olivia valdovinos #buddy aldridge #lesbians #gil rizzo #richie valdovinos #shy guy edward #potato continues to rock

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searchingforakeythatdoesntexist · 10 months

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"...And just forget the world" - Good Omens

We'll do it all, everything on our own

We don't need anything or anyone

If I lay here, if I just lay here

Would you lie with me and just forget the world?

(Chasing Cars - Fleurie Cover)

"And I would like to spend..."

In my head, in my heart, there is still so much hope. One day... Yes, one day, it will sing again.

Hello, a little Frenchie trying to speak english here <3

Once and for all, thanks to you all.

Last summer the S2 ending was a pure nightmare, but now it feels like kind of pure - and somehow weird - blessing at the same time. Because it wasn't romantic (not as it could have been), it wasn't easy, it wasn't fine. It was just... heartbreaking but realistic, sad but beautiful. It was just them. And because of that, now we are all creating our own way to cope, our own vision of how they will live and survive, and how they will fight alone, and how they will get back together for good next time.

It will be a long journey, but as I enjoy everyday this marvellous fandom, it feels like I am already home. Waiting patiently. Dreaming with all of you, the fans, the artists, the illustrators, the fanfiction writers, the video-makers and the theory-builders.

Thanks to Neil Gaiman and Terry Pratchett, thanks to the wonderful team behind the TV-Show. Thanks to David Tennant and Michael Sheen for bringing us their wonderful acting.

This fandom is pure blessing, and I am proud and happy to be part of it.

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paleoleigh · 11 months

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Season 3 episode (yes we're manifesting we're speaking it into existence) focused almost entirely on the crew getting into wacky hijinks with increasingly high stakes as the ep goes on but cut with Ed and Stede at Ye Olde Pyrate Spa finally getting to chill the fuck out for once.

Example:

Frenchie running a scam with the crew but then they all get caught. Cut to the captains sipping a fruity coconut drink on the beach.

The crew is trying to escape from jail but Pete knocks something over. They get caught again. Cut back to the captains laying on deck chairs with cucumbers over their eyes. Ed idly swats at a fly.

The stakes keep getting raised for the crew. At one point we cut back to Ed and Stede. Stede says "I wonder what the crew is doing today". Ed shrugs. Cuts back to the crew all screaming bloody murder.

The episode ends with everyone making their way back to the revenge, the crew quiet and a little singed, and Stede says some oblivious shit about what a restorative day that was. Olu has to hold Jim back from stabbing him.

#idk im new boot goofing over here #david jenkins get me on the writing team #ofmd s2 spoilers #ofmd #our flag means death #crew of the revenge #stede bonnet #ed teach #gentlebeard

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forpiratereasons · 1 year

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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.”

#darcy writes pirates #ofmd #gentlebeard

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pengychan · 10 months

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[Our Flag Means Death] Winning Hands

Title: Winning Hands Summary: Celebrations for Calypso's birthday continue as Izzy is passed around during a poker game. ["Looks like you had a bit of an all deck on hands kind of situation here."] Characters: Izzy Hands, Crew of the Revenge Rating: Explicit. I mean it's a gangbang of course it is.

A/N: Look, it's porn. Not a lot more to say. Also I have absolutely no idea how poker works. But since the crew is playing a game that had yet to be invented they probably don't either.

***

To absolutely no one’s surprise, Izzy turns out to be very, very tight at the first fuck.

Not that he was unwilling, oh no. He was very willing. Vocally, too, because they asked several times to make absolutely sure he wanted this. Maybe one time too many, since he got frustrated enough to mutter they could all fuck off if fucking him seemed like such a chore they’d make up one excuse after the other.

They were not making excuses, Lucius - who had never taken back the offer to sketch him - had reassured him. But the thing was that Izzy hadn’t just kind of stepped out of his comfort zone that night: he’d launched himself like a cannonball several miles out of it, with the make-up and the singing and whatnot.

And the last thing any of them wanted was for him to wake up the next morning and regret any part of it.

Izzy had actually scoffed at the notion, arms crossed. “Surely, you can’t be all that disappointing,” he’d muttered, and that had been it. The crew had looked at each other - well, a good chunk of the crew: Ed and Stede were likely in the process of going at it like rabbits in the cabin, while Olu, Archie and Jim had retired below deck to do the same - and in the end, it had gone ahead.

It being a rather entertaining poker game no one is really focusing on, because focusing on the cards happens to be hard as all hell with Izzy coming undone over each of their laps, all of his clothes folded in a neat pile on the chair his wooden leg is leaning against. There was a moment’s hesitation before taking it off, but it had to go to get the trousers off and well, no need to put it back on once he’s naked.

He doesn’t need to walk right now, anyway, not with plenty of cocks to sit on.

It’s Fang to go first, and if the practiced ease of his gestures as he gets him ready is anything to go by, it’s not his first round with Izzy. Though it’s very doubtful that, in any of those prior encounters, he allowed himself to murmur against the nape of Izzy’s neck how pretty he is, how lovely, how well he takes all of him as he sinks down, down on his lap with a hiss and a shaky exhale of breath.

The praise gets noises out of Izzy, broken up enough one could think he’s in pain if the look on his face - the way he’s biting his lower lip, leaning back against Fang’s shoulder, chest shuddering in a harsh gasp - didn’t make clear that’s not the case.

“You good, Iz?” Fang is asking, stroking up his stomach and across a chest that Lucius honestly thinks should have never been hidden by clothes because what the hell. Had he known that was what hid beneath the leather, he’d have torn it off Izzy with his teeth a long time ago.

“Yes-- fuck-- yes.”

“Good. Let’s get you nice and open, slowly now…”

He does take it slow, steady, hips rising and falling gently as he plays the first hand, one arm wrapped around Izzy’s waist, keeping him flush against him. Izzy tries to tilt his hips, to clench, anything to make him go faster, but all it takes is some murmured praise - so good, oh you’re doing such a good job, you feel so warm - for the whine of protest to turn into a groan, face flushing red beneath the make-up.

“You’re going to sweat all my hard work away, sweetheart,” Wee John says, in his Calypso voice, just before he drops a card that pretty much relinquishes that first hand to Frenchie.

(Later, they will find out that Wee John had victory within his grasp then, and chose not to take it because he wanted to wait for Izzy to be more open before he had a go; having seen his dick, Lucius will have to admit it was good thinking.)

Unaware of having been handed victory by the sea goddess herself, Frenchie grins. “My hand, my turn. You anywhere near close, Fang?”

A throaty chuckle. “Yeah, close enough,” he pants, and kisses the back of Izzy’s shoulder. “You all right for me to go a bit harder?”

“I’ve been-- fucking telling you--”

“Be nice, Izzy. Say please.”

“Fuck off,” Izzy groans, and it turns into a whine of frustration when Fang stills, balls deep in him but entirely unmoving. He tries to fuck himself onto his cock anyway, but both of Fang’s arms are around him, holding him down, and he cannot move. A shudder, and he drops his head with a near sob.

“Please,” he rasps.

Fang is kind enough not to make him ask twice, and suddenly he’s fucking up into him, a steady rhythm that makes Izzy almost cry out with relief, holding onto Fang’s arms to keep himself steady. It is short-lived, however: Fang wasn’t kidding when he said he was close. The rhythm of his thrusts falters and then he groans against Izzy’s temple, holding him tight, coming deep inside and holding still a few moments.

“Ah-- yeah, that was good, you feel good…” He strokes down Izzy’s heaving chest, down his trembling stomach, but stops short of touching the hard, leaking cock. He chuckles at his needy moan, and the shuddering twitch of his hips.

“I’m sure Frenchie will take care of that,” he says, and pulls Izzy off his cock to pass him over to Wee John, who - pretty effortlessly - passes him on to Frenchie while Pete deals the cards for the second hand.

Frenchie is not as large as Fang, and settling on his lap doesn’t spread Izzy’s thighs quite as wide, but he seems to enjoy his dick well enough if the moan that leaves him is anything to go by. Frenchie picks up his cards, resting his chin on top of Izzy’s shoulder.

“You smell nice,” he says lightly, and takes a moment to play his turn before he turns his head to press a kiss against the side of Izzy’s neck, over the swallow tattoo. "Perfume?"

“The best I had,” Wee John grins, dropping a card.

“Nice.” Frenchie smiles, and tilts his hips. He doesn’t thrust upward, not once: he’s as far in as he can be anyway. He only leans against the backrest and tilts his hips in slow, circular motions that tear a groan out of Izzy. He's gripping the edge of the table so hard his knuckles turn white. “I like how you smell without it too, you know,” he mutters against the nape of Izzy’s neck. “The leather and sea salt.”

“S-shut the fuck up and--” Izzy starts, but trails off with a groan when Frenchie’s hips still.

“Why don’t you sing a little more?” he asks, his grin widening as Izzy cranes his neck to give him a flustered glare. “Let us hear you sing again, and I’ll get moving.” A hand trails down his stomach, almost to his cock, then stills. “I promise."

“Oh! In French, do the French one,” Roach intervenes, putting some chips down, and Pete nods pretty enthusiastically.

“Yes, I liked that! Never heard French before.”

Lucius frowns. “I called you mon chéri just about a million times, babe,” he points out, gaining himself a stunned look from Pete.

“That was French??”

While Lucius is caught in the conundrum - tell him he’s an idiot, kiss him on the mouth, both in the order? - Izzy is taking in a shaky breath, too desperate for release to even bother with defiance.

“Q--quand il me prend dans ses bras-- Qu'il me parle t-tout bas-- Je vois la vie en rose--”

It’s a valiant attempt, to be fair, and even now his singing voice is unfairly gorgeous in Lucius’ opinion. But Izzy is obviously too out of it, and too out of breath, to carry the notes; he pants between verses, and each ends with a painful, whiny sort of noise deep in his throat. It’s delicious in a way, and someone pettier than Frenchie might keep it going a bit longer.

Luckily for Izzy, Frenchie opts to put him out of his misery after playing another couple of turns. He leans back on his chair, grabs Izzy’s thighs to keep him steady, and starts tilting his hips again. “Like this?” he asks, all sweetness and light, nosing the side of his neck.

The noise that gets out of Izzy is a moan, a sigh, and a scoff all wrapped into one.

“Yes-- wasn’t-- fucking hard was it,” he groans, committed to being a dick even while in the process of grinding down on someone’s rather more literal dick.

“Nah, it wasn’t hard. This is, though,” Frenchie grins, and grabs Izzy’s cock without warning. He shudders and comes undone before he can even manage to bite back his cry, throwing back his head to look at the sky, mouth agape and skin flushed. Frenchie doesn’t last much longer either, not with him clenching and shuddering around him. A couple more thrusts and he comes as well with a groan against the back of Izzy’s shoulder.

“Ah-- well.” A chuckle, that of someone coming down a high and not quite believing what just happened. “That was good.”

Izzy mumbles something that no one quite catches, swaying a little as if utterly boneless. Frenchie lets him rest against his chest, and wipes his hand against Izzy’s stomach before taking a look at the cards. He makes a face. “I fold,” he mutters, still out of breath. He’s barely caught it when Roach looks up and grins.

“I call, bitches,” he says, not even trying to hide his eagerness as his hands go to undo his belt. “Hand him over,” he says, and pauses when Fang clears his throat. “Ah, right, unless he wants a break. I can wait if he wants a break.”

Another scoff, and Izzy’s head lolls to the side. His carefully coiffed hair has come undone, sweat making it stick to his forehead. “I don’t need a fucking break,” he mumbles, and Roach is grinning again.

“That’s exactly what I was hoping to hear.”

It’s a bit ridiculous, really, how much taller than Izzy Roach is. Once he’s seated on his cock - not one Lucius would personally attempt to take without careful preparation, but Izzy is more than well prepared even for Wee John’s frankly concerning endowment at this point - Roach can very easily lean his chin over Izzy’s head, keeping him flush against his chest with one arm and holding the cards with the other hand.

Izzy definitely does need to be held up, because he’s still reeling from the earlier orgasm and his muscles must feel like cooked asparagus now. He barely holds back a whine in the back of his throat when Roach’s hips jerk upwards, bouncing him on his lap. There is no way in hell Izzy can come again right after an orgasm, but his eyes slip shut and he gets lost into it, lips parted, hands grasping Roach’s arm at an especially forceful thrust that makes him gasp. Roach blinks.

“Shit, sorry - want me to slow down?”

“Don’t you-- fucking dare,” Izzy pants, and the concerned look fades into that grin again.

“Oh, thank fuck,” Roach says, but he doesn’t get started right away. He puts down a few chips before he pours some more rum in a glass. “A drink?”

“... Yeah.”

He holds the glass up, and Izzy empties it in a couple of gulps. Roach raises both eyebrows, impressed, and puts the glass down before he rests his chin on top of Izzy’s head again. “So. Harder than before?”

“If you’re not a fucking coward.”

“Oooh, is that a challenge? I can go hard, ya know.”

“Well, I can take harder.”

“... You two done with the foreplay?” Frenchie calls out, and there’s a collective chuckle around the table; even Izzy’s lips curl. The lipstick is still holding on somehow, and Lucius - who’s playing his best hand yet - keeps thinking that he’ll smudge it off the second he gets a chance.

Roach wastes no more time to show he’s definitely done with foreplay. He thrusts hard and fast, almost curled around Izzy’s smaller frame, and soon enough they have to pause the game because he’s got both arms around him, keeping him still while he fucks the soul out of him. Out of everyone so far, he gets the most noises out of Izzy, loud and unabashed even though his spent cock stays limp. Somewhere at the bottom of the ocean, even Ned Low can probably hear this music.

There is a groan, a violent jerk, and Roach is done, too. He lets out a small whooping sound before he leans his arms against the table, Izzy’s head still tucked under his chin. “Shit, that was good. You feel real good,” he slurs a bit, and Izzy mumbles something no one but Roach can hear. It makes him chuckle before he lifts his head, and clears his throat.

“Sorry, guys. So, whose turn is it again?”

Lucius smiles. “Oh, it’s mine,” he says, and drops his cards. “I call,” he says, and it’s Pete’s turn to make a whooping sound.

“Great job, babe!”

“Thanks, love,” Lucius kisses his cheek before he turns again. Izzy is looking back at him, still on Roach’s lap, breathing harshly. Their gazes meet, and Lucius’ smile widens.

“Been a proper little seductress, have we?” he says. He doesn’t really expect Izzy to remember, but he clearly does, because his lips curl in a sneer. Well, a weak attempt at one. Lucius really hopes he can get his facial muscles back in working order real fast, because he plans to make him use that mouth extensively right about now.

“Been waiting for this, haven’t you, Twatty?”

“Oh, you can say that again.” Lucius pushes the chair back from the table, undoing his trousers and jerking his chin towards the floor.

"Twatty."

"Not that , the other thing you-- ugh." He makes a face, the commanding tone he was trying to convey sort of ruined. "Get over here," is all he mutters in the end.

Izzy says nothing else, thankfully. He gets off Roach’s lap on his own, like he has something to prove, but his legs… well, leg, is shaky and he almost falls despite leaning on the chair. Several hands reach out to steady him, though, and help him to Lucius’ side of the table. Pete is the last one to reach for Izzy’s arm, and helps him kneel in front of Lucius’ chair.

“You good?” Pete asks, and Izzy nods. It makes him chuckle. “Course you are. Lucky you,” he adds with a look at Lucius’ dick, a longing note in his voice like they didn’t spend a great part of the past twenty-four hours celebrating their engagement with some mind blowing sex.

Izzy doesn’t answer, but he does lick his lips and looks up. Their gaze meet and Lucius reaches down, grabs his hair, and jerks his head back. He has a split second to worry that he might have just gone a step too far, but Izzy moans and he breathes out in relief. Okay, yeah, he’s really into this kind of thing. Of course he is. Good.

“That's all you got, Twatty?” Izzy rasps, and oh God he’s a little too into it. He reaches up with the gloved hand - why is the glove the only thing he’s still wearing now? - and grabs the unbuckled belt hanging from Lucius' trousers. “I'm sure you can do better.”

Ah.

Lucius opens his mouth, closes it, then sets his jaw and pulls the belt off entirely. Izzy tilts back his head, and… and…

Later, he'll think it felt like a dream. It really does: his hands seem to move of their own accord as he puts the belt around Izzy's neck and buckles it up, tight but not so much he cannot breathe. He's still holding the other end, like… well. Like a leash.

“Well, shit,” he hears Roach mutter. “I should have thought of that.”

Lucius, who’d have never thought of that on his own, swallows and gives the belt a tentative tug. It barely makes Izzy’s head jerk, and he looks back up. “Like you mean it.”

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Lucius replies, more than a little defensive because oh God, he is growing harder just holding the leash-- the belt-- and because he knows he has it in him to hurt. It never happens with Pete, he could never, but it's rising its head now and it's both terrifying and arousing as all hell.

And something must show, because Izzy’s lips twitch a moment before he replies, very quietly. “I know,” he says, and there’s an odd reassurance to those words, that he knows what he can do and he’s not flinching back. Lucius breathes out, nods, and tugs the belt again, just a little harder.

It gets Izzy to finally lower his head and oh Jesus Christ he’s good at this. He didn’t even bother licking the shaft or sucking the tip or anything a fucking normal human being usually does first: he just goes all in and deep throats him like he’s been deep throating him since the day he first set foot on the Revenge.

“What the fuck,” Lucius blurts and oh, he can feel Izzy smile around him, the bastard. This time, tugging the belt to hold him down on his cock comes easier. He gets a noise out of Izzy, but he doesn’t try to pull back. Lucius swallows, and plays his turn before he relents and lets the belt slacken, so that Izzy can pull back. He does, grasping for breath, and oh yes, this is exactly how Lucius wanted to smudge that lipstick. Izzy looks up at him briefly, face flushed beneath the hopelessly ruined make-up. He licks his lips, and leans forward again to take him back in his mouth.

It’s good, one of the best he’s ever had - the strokes of the tongue, the way he hollows his cheeks, how easily he can take all of him. It would drive Lucius half mad, if not for the fact he’s using up all his willpower to focus on the game, too. He got his first win, now he needs two more… because whoever gets to three wins first gets to fuck Izzy on the table, and he really wants it to be him.

Because of reasons.

And well, he’s not into ladies, but Lady Luck is on his side right now and he has no complaints about that. The hand is good, he plays well, and the pleasure building up in his groin is the cherry on top. And then he’s got it, victory in his grasp.

“I call,” Lucius gasps, and lets go of the belt to grasp Izzy’s hair, pulling him down on his cock as he arches his hips and yes, God, this is perfect. He comes with a groan and Izzy doesn’t so much try to pull back, he takes him and takes it and when Lucius’ hand slips from his hair to rest on the back of his neck, he keeps sucking him through it, to the last shudder, to the last drop.

Lucius lets out a small, shaky laugh, leaning back. “Well, no way I can have another go right now,” he mutters, and turns to Pete. “Want to do it, babe?” he offers. Pete is as terrible at poker as he’s great in bed, and despite all his enthusiasm for the game, Lucius has yet to see him win a single hand. It seems only fair, giving him a chance.

“Thanks, love.” Pete grins, and looks down at Izzy. “... I mean, unless you want a break. Or more of Lucius. I’d want more of Lucius if I were you, so you know, if you don’t want me to take his turn I understa--”

“Shut your fucking mouth and help me up. Your boyfriend’s dick is limp as his wrist, anyway.”

“Fiancé,” Lucius corrects him.

“Ah, right. Congratulations,” Izzy mutters, and Pete does help him up and onto his lap, but this time he’s not facing the table. He lets Izzy lean his chin over his shoulder and looks over at the others. “Uh, who’s got the…?”

The bottle of oil Roach fetched from the kitchen is slid across the table. Pete fumbles a little with his belt, then oils his hand before pulling out his dick and pressing it flush against Izzy’s, tight into the grip of his hand. It makes Izzy groan through clenched teeth, eyes half-lidded and gaze fixed on the ocean, hands gripping the back of the chair.

“You good? Get moving if you’re-- whoa! Yeah, you’re good,” Pete gives startled, breathless laugh when Izzy does get moving, thrusting into his fist with small, desperate jerks of his hips. Then Pete tightens his grip, or at least Lucius guesses as much, because it’s kind of his signature move and Izzy gives a whine in the back of his throat.

He’s still moving though, and Pete doesn’t have to really move himself. He only sits back, holding both dicks in the oiled hand. His other hand goes to rest on Izzy’s side, the one without the leg, because of course balance is a little fucked when you’re straddling someone and missing most of one leg.

“You guys mind if I sit this one out? Got my hands full,” he mutters. Lucius sort of expects someone to pipe in with a dumb joke like pointing out that he sure has his hands full of Hands, and he also expects that someone to be Frenchie. But he doesn’t say anything, and when Lucius looks up he seems… concerned. He’s sitting right across the table from him and Pete, staring at Izzy’s back like he’s seeing something for the first time and that something is not a particularly nice sight.

… Actually, now that he pays attention, Wee John and Roach are looking too; busy as he is shuffling the cards, Fang is the only one who’s not staring. But staring at what, exactly? Lucius leans a little forward, pretending to reach for the bottle, and turns to take a quick look at Izzy’s back.

And there they are - scars, a lot of them, old and crisscrossing his entire back. They would be hard to spot in dim light, or with Izzy’s back against the chest of whoever was fucking him at the moment, but right now the oil lamp in the middle of the table is shining its full light on his back and they’re perfectly visible.

So are the muscles on his back as he keeps moving without even realizing he’s being stared at, really, but they’re not enough to distract Lucius from the scars. He is no expert by any stretch of the imagination, but flogging scars are not difficult to figure out. Someone did a number on his back, at least once. Blackbeard, maybe? No, that… really is not his style, even at his worst. Maybe another captain he’d sailed under, or…

“... Guys?” Pete is calling out, as unaware as Izzy is. “I said, you all right if I-- oh, that was good-- sit this one out?”

Frenchie clears his throat. “Oh, yeah. No problem. Fang, you dealing or not?” he says, and that is that. The game resumes and it goes pretty shit for Lucius because to be honest, he can’t properly focus after seeing that.

Well, Pete and Izzy groaning right next to his left ear is not helping matters a lot, either. It doesn’t last too long: he hears the small, gasping noise Pete usually makes when he comes, and Izzy stills, panting. Moments later, Wee John puts down his cards.

“I call, mortals,” he declares in his best Calypso voice, and Lucius could swear he heard Izzy chuckle.

He calls and he wins, sure enough. It takes him a few moments to get ready - no trousers to unlace, he’s got to hike up the dress - and he spares a few moments to oil himself, even if Izzy has got to be as slick and open as he’s ever gonna get. Then he pushes the chair back some, leans against the backrest, and gestures for Pete to pass Izzy over. He lifts him over his lap almost ridiculously easily, back against his chest, but doesn’t put him down right away. The first thing he does is get the belt off his neck, letting it fall on the floor.

“Are you ready, mortal?”

Izzy groans, skin glossy with sweat and actually half-hard again. “Yes, yes, get on with-- what the fuck,” he gasps, suddenly, eyes widening and jaw going slack. “Where were you-- keeping-- that ?”

“A goddess can keep secrets,” Wee John replies with a grin, but keeps lowering Izzy very, very slowly. There are more noises, a startled moan, but none of it is pained and soon enough he’s settled on Wee John’s lap. And, by the time he does, he’s fully hard again.

All right, Lucius thinks, now he’s spread as open as he’s ever gonna get.

“What the fuck,” Izzy repeats, breathless, and Frenchie raises an eyebrow.

“Didn’t say that of mine, mate.”

“Or mine,” Roach comments.

“Now we’re going to feel bad about our sizes,” Frenchie adds.

“I think you’re pretty big yourselves,” Fang says, thoughtful as always. Frenchie pats his shoulder.

“Thanks, mate.”

“Yeah, nice to see someone can pay a guy a compliment here.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Izzy snorts, and he seems about to add something, but Wee John’s hands are on his shoulders and he’s pushing him forward. He blinks. “What…?”

“Hush. Lean on the table.”

A shaky exhale of breath and he does, leaning his elbows on the table. Wee John doesn’t move, but oils his hands before he moves them down his back then up again, fingers tracing some of the scars. He says nothing, but he doesn’t have to. Another breath, and Izzy tenses up. He turns his head, scowling at the mast like he can see something there that they can’t.

“... It was a long time ago. I fucking hope you’re not expecting me to start crying on your lap over it and tell you a sob story, because I sure as fu--” Izzy’s words fade into a groan when Wee John’s hands squeeze around his shoulders, thumbs digging into the muscles of his upper back. A hiss of discomfort follows, but Izzy doesn’t flinch away or tell him to stop, so he doesn’t.

“You’re awfully tense, dear,” he comments, running a thumb down the back of Izzy’s neck and then all the way down his spine to his lower back. It makes him arch a little with another groan - hard to tell if said groan is over the dick shifting in him or the touch on his back - and Wee John’s hands go back up to rub his shoulders. “Been a while since someone treated you to something nice, hasn't it?”

Fang lifts his glass, a little sheepish. “I tried once. Broke one of his ribs, though, and he told me he’d cut my fingers off if I tried again. But I’m sure he was just saying that. Right, Izzy?”

The only response he gets is a weak and somewhat nasal groan, because Izzy is apparently in the process of turning into putty against the table while Wee John, still balls deep in him, proceeds to work through knots in muscles he probably didn’t even know he even had. So Lucius replies in his stead.

“I’m sure you did your best,” he says, dealing the cards. “You playing this hand with us, Goddess?”

“Quite busy at the moment,” the goddess in question replies. “Do go ahead without me, mortals.”

They do, and this time it’s a long one, because no one seems to quite manage to win out. They’re still playing when Wee John ends the massage, places a kiss between Izzy’s shoulder blades, and grips his hips to move him over his lap.

That sure turns the groans of relief into full-on moaning, even while Izzy remains limp against the table. He’s nearly sobbing by the time Wee John stills and finishes with a quiet grunt, then runs his hands over Izzy’s shuddering back again before pulling him up, slipping out of him.

“There. It’s all right,” he murmurs over Izzy’s soft whimper, just as Fang puts down his cards, calls, and claims victory.

That also means getting to claim Izzy again, but he’s clearly not ready to get it up again. He still pulls Izzy on his lap, flushed and sweaty and barely coherent, and strokes him into another shuddering orgasm while playing his next hand.

“You good, Iz?” he asks, getting a weak nod and a mumble as a reply.

“Stop fucking asking, can’t you tell…” he slurs, but there is no bite to his words. His eyes slip shut and he just leans against Fang, still catching his breath, limp as though boneless. When Roach wins his second hand, then Frenchie does, they do the same thing - hold him against them, idly grinding against his thighs at most, to let him take a much needed break.

… That, or they’re all aiming to win three rounds and are trying to save their energy to fuck him on the table as the winner gets to do. If that’s what they’re hoping for, Lucius thinks, though luck. Frenchie comes dangerously close to a third win, but close is not enough and finally Lucius gets to look up and smile.

“I call.”

The cards go down and well, it’s over and he’s won.

“Whoo! Amazing, babe!”

“Thank you, love.”

“Aw, I almost had it,” Frenchie mutters, and runs a hand through Izzy’s hair. “You still awake, Izzy?”

A grumble. “Don’t tell me Twatty won.”

“Afraid so. Hey, were you hoping for someone else?”

“Hoping for me, obviously,” Roach says with a grin.

“Bet he wanted more of Wee John.”

“It’s still Calypso to you, mortal.”

“Oh, apologies.”

There is some laughter, and the cards and chips are pushed aside on the table to make room for Izzy. He’s hoisted on it, back against the wooden boards, and looks up at Lucius with half-lidded eyes. His hair is disheveled, the make-up pretty much gone, and it really is one hell of a look on him. He’s soft, having come for the second time in the evening only a short time ago, but Lucius is very much hard again.

Still, as he unlaces his trousers, he meets Izzy’s gaze. “Okay, look. Real talk, if you don’t want--”

“Shut up and show me what you’ve got, Twatty.”

It’s a little annoying, really, what those words do to him when it’s Izzy specifically to utter them. Lucius is on him without thinking, kissing him hard, grasping Izzy’s wrists and pinning them above his head. It gets a noise against his mouth, a startled moan, and oh yes, now we’re talking. What little resistance he put up in his surprise gives way fast and he parts his lips, letting him in.

And with all the action he’s had tonight, it’s no surprise that his mouth is not the only part of him that lets Lucius in easily. He pushes in and Izzy lets out a low whine again his mouth; he feels his wrists tense and his hands clench on nothing, but he makes no effort to break free. A couple of thrusts and Lucius pulls back from his mouth, keeping his hands pinned, just so he can look down at him.

Israel Fucking Hands - ‘First Mate Hands, or God as far as you're concerned’ - is panting, eyes half-lidded and lips parted, trembling in dazed pleasure, a sweaty and raw little thing beneath him and around him. He cannot possibly get it up now, he cannot possibly come again, but it's still desperate for this.

To be honest, Lucius thinks, this is a kind of God he would have no trouble getting on his knees for. He breathes out, running a hand down Izzy’s heaving chest. “Want me to move?” he asks.

A groan, and Izzy’s only leg wraps around his waist. “No, I want you to stand there and look pretty,” he snaps. Lucius grins, leaning closer, still keeping his wrists pinned.

“You think I’m pretty?”

“Just fucking move .”

“And how do we ask that?”

“Fuck off . ”

“Try again,” he mutters, giving the smallest tilt of his hips. It gets a whine out of Izzy, and it builds to a near sob when Lucius gives one hard thrust before stilling again.

“Fuck me,” he gasps out. It’s better, much better, but…

“Close, but not quite.”

“I’m not-- going to beg, Twatty.”

Lucius leans in closer, voice just a whisper. “I don’t want you to beg,” he tells him. Actually he very much would like to hear him beg, but he’ll keep it for next time. “But that’s not how you should be calling me.”

A slow, teasing roll of his hips. Izzy whimpers, throwing back his head, and Lucius’ mouth latches on his throat, aching to give him at least a mark to remind him of this. He’s also aching to move, because this bastard is slick and hot around him, but he makes an effort to keep still. He hears Izzy draw in a shaky breath, feels the heartbeat, feels him swallow.

“How?” he rasps. Lucius smiles against his skin.

“You think you’re cute?” he murmurs. “Remember, Iggy ?”

A pause, then another intake of breath, a shaky exhale. Lucius pulls back just enough to see his face, to see that now he does remember. He’s hesitating, lips parted, eyes wide. Lucius says nothing: just burrows his face where Izzy’s shoulder meets his neck. He bites, hard enough to get a startled moan out of him, and tilts his hips at the same time.

“Oh--” a whimper, a shudder, and he turns to press his face against Lucius’ hair. His voice is barely a whisper, for no one’s ears but Lucius’. “Please, daddy.”

Oh, yes.

With a low growl, Lucius pulls his face away, adjusts his grip on Izzy’s wrists and finally allows himself to fuck him properly, hard and fast, making the heavy table slide a few inches across the floorboards with a scraping noise that barely covers Izzy’s moans. Soon enough his arms are tired and he lets go of Izzy’s wrists, lets himself lay over him, chest to chest, and oh he’s close, all too soon, heat building up in his groin and his steady rhythm starting to break.

“Holy shit,” he groans, hips stuttering. There are arms around him, Izzy’s nails digging into his back, pressing him closer, holding on tight.

“Daddy,” he groans against his ear and oh, damn him, that undoes Lucius so quickly it’s not even funny. He comes with a shuddering gasp, pressing deep inside, going limp on Izzy like all his bones have turned to jelly and honestly, it feels like they have.

Holy. Shit.

For what feels like a very long time but are probably just a few minutes he remains still, head pleasantly empty, ears full of nothing but his and Izzy’s thumping heartbeats. Until, suddenly, he hears a sniffle.

What the...?

Lucius pulls back, still panting, alarm cutting through the afterglow. Izzy’s face is wet, tears leaving tracks in what's left of the make-up, and it hits him like a punch.

“Wait, no-- shit-- did I go too far? Was it the bite? Did it hurt?” he blurts, only for Izzy to shake his head, blinking away tears, gaze still fixed on the sky.

“It's fine, right?” Fang is speaking up, and turns Izzy's face towards him so gently. "They're the good kind of tears, yes? You good, Iz?"

A sniffle, and he nods, making no move to get off the table. "Yeah," he rasps. "I'm good."

Oh, thank fuck. With a long sigh of relief, Lucius finds his feet again and tucks himself back in his trousers. Only then does he realize that the others seem to have been at work on filling the bathtub with water now that the alcohol has all been guzzled down, and that Pete is coming back on deck with towels and a bar of the captain’s very expensive soap.

"We went to get some towels and stuff while you were busy, babe," he says. “Hope you didn’t mind me not watching.”

“I got soup,” Roach adds, holding up a steaming bowl. “Left some for the captain, though. Passed by his cabin on the way and I’m pretty sure he’s busy, might need a pick me up later. You heard that?” he asks, turning to Frenchie, who’s carrying an armful of blankets and pillows. He shrugs.

“Sure did. Ed must have put the bell back on, ‘cause I heard it going like mad.”

The mental image makes Lucius chuckle, and that feels good, after so much time unable to feel anything but anger at the thought of anything concerning Ed.

Not moving on is worse, Izzy said, and maybe he was on to something.

Lucius grabs a bottle, takes a long swig, and watches on as Fang and Wee John get Izzy in the tub, giving him a good wash with the pricey soap. Izzy seems half asleep already, barely moving while they scrub and rinse every inch of him and then towel him dry. By the time they lift him out of the tub Frenchie is ready with the blanket; he’s wrapping it around Izzy just as a familiar voice rings out somewhere on Lucius’ right.

“Hey, guys. Looks like you had a bit of an all deck on hands kind of situation here. Could have called us up to help,” Archie says, taking the bottle from Lucius’ hand and giving it a swig. He hears Jim half-groan and half-chuckle, while Olu rather awkwardly rubs the back of his neck.

Lucius laughs. “I think you had plenty of action on your own below deck,” he mutters, and none of them tries to deny it, even if Olu is suddenly very interested in the few clouds around the moon. “Uh, the captain…?”

“Don’t think he’ll come out for a while. Heard the bell going like crazy,” Jim says, taking the bottle from Archie and taking a swig themself. They look on while Fang sits on the ground with Izzy leaning against his side. “... He’s all right, yeah?”

“Better than all right, I’d say,” Lucius shrugs. “Just, you know… we tired him out.”

“I see.”

“Want us to call you next time?” he asks, and Jim makes a face.

“Eh, I’ll pass,” they mutter, taking another swig before passing the bottle to Olu. “But if you’re having a sleepover on deck, we’re all for it.”

It definitely does look like they’re having a sleepover, with the blankets and pillows on the deck and several of the crew already leaning down. Fang is helping Izzy drink from the bowl of soup before he lets him lean down too, right in the middle of the pile, and puts another blanket on him for good measure. By the looks of it, Izzy is half asleep before his head touches the pillow.

“... Yeah, looks like the sleepover is on.”

He sidles up to Pete, and there are a few grumbles while pillows and blankets are snatched back and forth, but soon enough they’re all settled. Lucius yawns and turns a moment to take a look at Izzy, already asleep, nestled between Fang and Frenchie. He looks peaceful, forehead smooth. Lucius may have scored a few points, but it’s pretty clear who the real winner of the game really was, and he finds he doesn’t mind.

He doesn’t mind at all.

#our flag means death #ofmd #izzy hands #lucius spriggs #frenchie ofmd #fang ofmd #black pete #roach ofmd #wee john ofmd #izzy hands/lucius spriggs #izzy hands/frenchie #izzy hands/fang #izzy hands/roach #izzy hands/wee john #izzy hands/black pete

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