#maybe Stede would have liked him better on their second meeting

[stizzysupremacy]

So the first time Izzy meets Stede, Stede is all “you’re very skilled with a sword” and “I’m glad this isn’t over because I kind of enjoyed it” and like, they are rivals in the moment yeah but they’re not total jerks to each other.

Then the second time they meet, at Spanish Jackie’s, Stede is IMMEDIATELY the biggest bitch we ever see him be in the whole show. He isn’t even rude to the Spaniard who gut-stabbed him, or his childhood bullies ffs. But he puts on his cockiest attitude and looks down his nose despite knowing Izzy is a master swordsman with a ship full of men at his back. Zero self-preservation instincts.

And Izzy has no idea why this peppy blonde sudden started acting like such a dickhead, but Stede did claim to be a pirate and pirates do tend to be dickheads…

So is it at all surprising if Izzy wasn’t perfectly polite when they meet again on the Revenge? He’s got no reason to respect this guy coming in to the situations, and then Stede’s like “Ed, your flunky is a complete asshole!” My brother in piracy, you know damn well you antagonized that angry rat man ON PURPOSE.

Fuck around, find out.

A sword to the gut was honestly Stede getting off easy.

[bookshelfdreams]

There were two great posts about Izzy yesterday, and I would like to expand on and add my 2 ct to the things said in them a little. One, by @celluloidbroomcloset (with additions by several others), about how Izzy immediately falls back into old patterns of manipulative behaviour after his supposed redemption in 02x07, only this time with Stede as the focus of said behaviours instead of Ed. The other, by @batsarebetterthanpeople, about how Izzy's behaviour in 02x06 and onward is more akin to the development a homophobe coming around to a queer loved one, than an arc of queer self-discovery.

Izzy's story isn't about himself. I think this is the first, fundamental mistake people make when engaging with it. He's not a protagonist; he doesn't exist in the story for his own sake. So when ofmd asks "How to reform a toxic person? What does it look like and is it even possible?", the starting point isn't one of empathy with Izzy.

It's one of empathy with Ed. ofmd is asking these questions not because it wants to understand Izzy better. What it wants to explore is the possibility of Ed having the relationship with Izzy Ed wants. Whether Izzy can be brought around to understanding Ed's wants and needs, whether he can understand the hurt he caused him.

This is a fundamentally different approach to how these stories are usually told. Usually, we start out with the unspoken assumption that the toxic person is well-intentioned, good at heart, and whatever pain they caused our protagonist is more akin to a misunderstanding than deliberate harm. Yes, they may have have caused hurt, but if you just see things from their perspective, you'll understand that they only had your best interest in mind, and that will enable you to forgive them.

Obviously this can't not veer off into victim blaming. "The abuser had a good reason for what they did, and therefore, it's your own fault. Or at the very least not theirs."

ofmd fundamentally rejects this. It is very careful to never let the bullies and abusers have a valid point. Abusers are abusive because they get something out of it. To truly reform an abuser, they would have to be willing to build a life for themselves that is a lot less comfortable. Where they have to consider other's feelings, communicate and compromise, meet other people on equal footing, instead of putting themselves in a position of authority. It means letting go of patterns of behaviour that they have so far been quite successful with*.

And Izzy - tries. He is interesting because part of him clearly wants to leave the toxicity behind. He gets to see what positive relationships, human connection, being part of a community look like; he's offered an outstretched hand, and, after biting it a few times, tentatively starts to take it.

But he can't quite get there. The temptation to fall back into what he knows is too strong. celluloidbroomcloset's post linked above talks mainly about 02x07, so I'm not gonna repeat all that, but I'm going to add two little scenes from 02x06 that further cement this. In the beginning of the episode, Izzy finds Ed as he's standing on deck, watching the sea, and the conversation that plays out is a clear mirror to, almost repeat of the Frankfurter clouds scene from 01x04. Ed tries to share an observation with Izzy in an attempt to reach out to him ("Something's wrong. Feels like a storm's coming but I can't see it."), which Izzy, of course, immediately dismisses ("Or maybe you're just a mopey twat and there is no fucking storm").

The second scene is, when Izzy is the only one discouraging Ed from following Stede to his cabin after he kills Ned Lowe. Discouraging support, discouraging connection and emotional honesty; Izzy will continue to try to isolate Stede.

Now, I do not think this, or the things happening in 02x07, are put in there deliberately to show that Izzy has ulterior motives. Rather, they are an illustration of how deep these maladaptive patterns of behaviour go. Izzy isn't able to fully admit to himself the extend of the harm he caused and this is what prevents him from truly changing his behaviour - even when he has just experienced the benefits of a loving, supportive community!

All of this is the explanation to the answer the show gives to our starting question: Is it possible for Ed to have the relationship with Izzy that Ed wants? And the answer is: No. Just because growth is possible, doesn't mean it is enough. Doesn't mean anyone's entitled to forgiveness. Sometimes, the only compassionate thing to do, is to take yourself permanently out of the other person's life.

But Izzy did learn, and he did grow. It's just that the purpose of said growth wasn't to heal him; it was to enable him to understand the hurt he caused to Ed. That doesn't have to mean people like Izzy can never be reformed, it just means that this isn't a story about the reformation of a toxic person. It's the story of leaving this toxicity behind.

And this is why Izzy's heartfelt apology followed by his immediate death is a positive ending. It represents the conviction that no relationship is so broken it can't be mended, but also the assurance that no relationship is so important it can't be ended.

Ed gets to hear the things he needs to hear most - I am sorry, I was wrong, you didn't deserve this - and then Izzy disappears from his life, and with him, all the toxicity he represents.

They can part on good terms, but part they must. So Ed can go into the rest of his life, unburdened.

*read Lundy Bancroft's "Why does he do that", seriously. The whole thing is on archive.org.

[rowenablade]

A word about Izzy’s grave.

I’ve seen a lot of people upset that Izzy wasn’t buried at sea, or that he wasn’t buried with his leg and ring, and I want to offer an alternative explanation in case it can bring some comfort. Maybe I’m just deluding myself, but I can’t function if I feel nothing but pain about this, so here I am trying to turn…well, you know.

First, the choice to bury Izzy on land. For that, I want to talk about the swallow tattoo.

In a traditional nautical context, a swallow tattoo has a few meanings. The one that I think this whole fandom knows by now is that it represents 5000 nautical miles sailed. Totally makes sense for Izzy to have this tattoo- it’s practical, it allows him to subtly brag about his skills, and the fact that it’s on one of the few pieces of skin he generally shows bears that out. Izzy has sailed at least 5000 nautical miles, and he wants anyone he meets to know that.

But there’s a couple other meanings too.

A swallow is migratory. It travels great distances, and returns to the place it makes its nest. By getting a swallow tattoo, a sailor is essentially praying that they, too, will be like a swallow. That they will travel far across the sea, but ultimately return safely home.

And failing that, if a sailor drowns, the swallow will fly their soul up to heaven.

You notice the theme in both these prayers? That they don’t end with the swallow in the ocean.

All birds, even sea birds, need a solid place to make their nests. The type of bird that never touches ground, that’s born in the air and never once touches the land? That’s not a type of bird that can actually exist, captain.

I go back and forth on whether I think Izzy, sentimental bastard that he is, knew about or considered these meanings when he got that swallow tattoo. But however you consider it, the swallow represents the sailor’s journey. And a successful sailor’s journey doesn’t end with the sailor at the bottom of the ocean. It ends with them at home.

Izzy is buried at Ed and Stede’s nest, because his sailor’s journey is over. He was a sailor, but he’s not anymore. He’s retired.

Second, the grave itself. I’ve seen people upset that they took off Izzy’s effects rather than bury him with them. Now, I’m sure my own perceptions color this. I’m fairly unsentimental when it comes to the actual, physical handling of the dead. I don’t believe the dead care what is done with their bodies. Obviously you’re going to feel differently based on your own experience and culture, and I respect that.

But here’s what I think the crew were thinking.

You notice something about the grave? No headstone. And honestly, why would there be? Most pirates can’t read. You put a traditional headstone on that grave, and nine out of ten people who have reason to care about the person buried there won’t know what it says. But an unmarked grave doesn’t feel right, nor does an anonymous cross. I challenge anyone who’s upset about the way Izzy was buried to tell me that an unmarked grave would have made them feel one whit better.

Pirates recognize Izzy. They know who he is. The sword, the ring, the wooden leg- this is how you write “Here lies Israel Hands,” in a language every pirate can understand.

Look. I don’t by any means think the show handled this death perfectly. And for those of you who are enraged to the point of hating the show now, I don’t expect this to make you feel better. But I suspect a burial at sea, or an unadorned cross, wouldn’t have made it any better either.

This is how I try to feel better. Because I can’t just be heartbroken. I can’t do it. And honestly the part of this that hurts the most is watching people who shared in my joy of this show say they hate it now. I’m sure I’m giving the writers and showrunners too much credit- I think the death looked and felt the way it did because they were pressed for time and took the quickest routes they could. But I need to be something other than angry about it, so here’s how I try to do that. I hope it helps someone else.

[lovemewednesdays]

body (baby), it's too much, my body.

So, by now, we've all seen that photo of Izzy from the next batch of episodes. And, um, I don't know about y'all, but my glasses fogged up big time. And if that was my reaction, imagine what Stede's would be – the man would simply perish. Anyway, this is a little something that I needed to get out. It's one of the most ridiculous things I've written – for fandom, at least – and I love it. (Dedicated to @sunnibits for inspiring it!)

Stede walked briskly to the rec center, where he was to meet Izzy for his first pirate lesson. After a hectic few weeks, he was looking forward to it.

He stopped at the door of the rec center and took a deep breath to steady himself. “Right,” he muttered to himself. “Time to become a real pirate, Stede Bonnet.” He ignored the slight lisp in his voice and entered the room.

The scene that greeted him stopped him in his tracks. There were candles everywhere. Lit candles. And barrels. And in the middle of it all was Izzy Hands. Shirtless. His back was to him.

Shirtless. Did Stede mention he was shirtless?

Goodness, but he had so many muscles. Stede had never seen so many...rippling cords. Is this what happened to your body when you pulled ropes on a pirate ship all day? Good Lord.

He needed to sit down.

Stede must’ve made a noise because Izzy twirled around gracefully; even with his prosthetic, he was still more poised than Stede could ever hope to be.

“Ah, Bonnet. You’re here.”

Stede’s jaw dropped. If he thought Izzy’s back was impressive, his front was...well.

Let’s just say that Michaelangelo would have a field day.

Indeed, Izzy looked like he was carved from marble. The arms, the abs, which were just the right amount of pronounced, it was all very...arresting. Stede watched as a bead of sweat rolled down Izzy’s clavicle, past his chest — Stede had never put much stock into body hair, but Izzy carried it quite well — over his abs, to —

“Bonnet!”

Stede’s head snapped up, eyes wide as he looked at the other man.

“Y’right?”

“What?” Stede sputtered, huffing out a laugh. “Yes, yes, I’m —” his voice broke, “I’m, I’m, I, I’m fine. Just fine. Dandy. Right as rain, Izzy.”

Izzy’s eyes narrowed. “You’re pink.”

“Am I?”

“And you’re forehead’s sweatier than usual.”

Stede took a moment to dab at his forehead with his sleeve. “It is a bit warm in here, Israel.”

Izzy rolled his eyes and swiftly snuffed out three candles with a swoosh of his sword. Stede’s eyes went wider, and his teeth clenched, and —

Snap!

Izzy turned to him. “What the fuck was that?”

Stede began to speak, but it was garbled. He held out a finger before spitting out his retainer in his hand. “Just my retainer.” He held up the pieces of his broken orthodontia.

“What the fuck is a retainer?”

“It’s um, a device that helps you keep your teeth straight. Kind of like braces.” Izzy stared at him blankly. “Don’t worry about it.”

He looked down at the broken retainer and sighed. He was just getting back in the habit of wearing it, seeing as he left it on the ship by accident amid all the nonsense with the Royal Navy. Sure, it made him lisp and the Badmintons and the other boys at school always bullied him for it, but Stede had the straightest teeth on the seven seas and he was proud of that.

Hopefully, a dentist would be available at the next port. (An orthodontist would be better, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.)

“Bonnet! I don’t have all day!”

Izzy was doing drills with his sword, his muscles moving together, like weeds in the wind. Sweaty, glistening reeds.

On second thought, maybe he should hold off on visiting the dentist for now.

[stedes-incredible-library]

Hi! Same anon asking for fave lists, I’d love to hear from all the mods!

Hello! Here are some of our favourites in no particular order (mind the tags and also check the pairings!)

stuck in second gear by tediousdelusion [E], 69k nice

“I want a divorce.” Izzy’s said the words more times than once in the past eighteen years of marriage, but he means them this time. More than he ever has before, anyway. At the prow of the very expensive and very unnecessary boat parked in the driveway, Edward - Izzy’s idiot (soon-to-be-ex) husband - sighs and rolls his eyes. “Come on, Iz!” Ed shouts. He’s wearing a stupid fucking captain’s hat and has one foot propped against the rail. “The boat is an investment! And it’ll be fun.” Or, how Izzy Hands saves his marriage (and gains a boyfriend) by getting a divorce.

would you worship gravity by bitethehands [E], 60k

At precisely the seven-and-a-half hour mark, Izzy prepares the cabin for landing. Ed’s crackly voice buzzes over the loudspeaker with the announcement. He’s not thinking specifically of Finance Consultant Guy, nor of anything bar the inevitable banality of deboarding, so it genuinely catches him off-guard when a hand closes over his wrist. “Apologies for being forward, but what are you doing after this?” - Izzy is a flight attendant. Edward is a pilot. Stede is the first-class passenger who won’t stop chasing after them both.

piña coladas by faeeebaeee [E], WIP

The 80s are in full swing, and the golden decade of Nintendo Gameboys’ and Sony Walkmans’ has never looked better. In the neon jungle, Stede Bonnet, a young salaryman, meets enigmatic mechanic apprentice Edward Teach, and the pair strike up an unlikely friendship via fax machine, page beepers and gifts in the mail.

~Mod N

What Kind of Pirate Has a Friend? by @thetardigrape [E], 31k pre-canon

A story of Edward Teach and Jack Rackham, the two youngest pirates in Captain Hornigold's crew. Friendship, fucking, and fighting. Maybe some fuckery.

The Body Knows by @veeagainsttheday [M], 21k canon adjacent, magical realism, spooky vibes

Stede Bonnet thought he was finally free by faking his own death with a fuckery and leaving everything to his widow and children. He was wrong.

The World Beyond by @veeagainsttheday [E], 43k Alternate Universe

The Colorado River runs dry and sparks thirty years of Water Wars. Blackbeard is the most legendary water pirate in the desert; the Gentleman Pirate broke his heart. Now Stede is searching for the love of his life and Ed is planning his retirement. Unfortunately the remaining Cinco Gallos are still looking for Jim and the cults might be right about the biggest conspiracy theory of the last three decades...

~Mod A (I have a wildly hard time picking favorites of anything. What I've done here is pare down a selection of favorite authors, then shuffled through those for fics that truly haven't left me alone since I read them, then spun that down until I had the three that had the fewest hits. All three are by authors whose entire fandom catalogue I would recommend.)

tastes so sweet it hurts a little by florence_after_midnight [E], 8.3k

“Suits you,” Izzy says, hoping Ed hears the reverence in his voice. “You think?” Ed says, in a playful tone that makes it clear she’s not looking for reassurance but shamelessly fishing for compliments. Fair, Izzy thinks, she deserves all the praise in the world. He’s never been good with words, so he tries to put it all into the simple act of touching her. You’re the most beautiful woman in the fucking world, says the finger tracing the floral pattern of the lace. I’ve never loved anyone like I love you, says his thumb running up her sternum. I’d gladly worship at your feet all day, says his left hand finding hers, lacing their fingers together and squeezing tight. or: The one where Ed buys lingerie and Izzy loses his mind about it.

take the pain, take the pleasure by @shatteredhourglass [E], 10k

“If I didn’t know better,” Ed says, hand tracing down Jack’s arm slowly, deceptively gentle, “I’d think you were fucking around with my things, Jack.” In which Ed and Izzy collectively menace the men who choose to get involved with them. Or, five times someone wasn't allowed to fuck Izzy Hands' pussy, and one time they were

everybody's got their limits (nobody's found mine) by @oopshidaisyy [E], 16k

After 153 days, killing Stede Bonnet had begun to lose its appeal. (Or: Izzy gets stuck in a time loop.)

~Mod 🐁

[mikireyna]

Best Couple: Stede and Edward “Blackbeard” Teech (Our Flag Means Death)

Since Ben 10, I have kind of noticed that most people love writing about a couple getting together but never deal with the whole making the relationship works. Maybe it has been a thing and just not something in the shows I watch. Still, I do appreciate when shows do the whole “let's make the relationship works” when I do see it. Which is why I made Stede and Edward my Best Couple for 2023.

And boy was there a lot of work to be done for Stede and Edward. They were not left in a good spot at the end of Season 1 and that was picked up with Season 2. Stede being a hopeless romantic hoping to see Edward with no ship to seek him out. Meanwhile Edward was going through a huge self destructive depression that was going to get everybody killed.

And things didn’t get better when they got back together. Still, they put the work into it with the help of a friend turning into a bird. If I had to pick one episode from Season 2 of OFMD as a top 3 episode then Episdoe 4: Fun and Games where Stede and Edward meet Anne Bonny and Mary Read. 

I'm pretty sure neither one of these guys have any idea how a relationship works but seeing how Anne and Mary’s relationship really did help them. In…A really weird way. They got to see how another relationship works. While it didn’t fully convince Edward to give Stede a second shot, the episode ended with Buttons giving Edward the idea that change can happen.

By changing into a bird…Which I guess. Why not! 

Still, things were not all perfect after that as Edward had his issues to deal with. Then Stede being…Stede. Still, they worked through their problems. Granted, Blackbeard left again and I  could have done with less of that. Still, they did get back together to work through their stuff and give it another try. That was really good and glad that Stede and Edward ended the season on a happy note. While we may never see what becomes of them after this, I would like to think that they are running the best inn possible before they get captured and killed by the government. 

[elapsed-spiral]

So, for Try It Tuesday in Motivation March, there's a prompt generator. I got:

Have a peek under the Read More to see what I whipped up in half an hour on my lunch break!

It was a dark and stormy night. The waves roiled, more sinister omen than force of nature. Fitting, for an imbecile about to meet his maker. 

The frilly fool lay, soaked to the bone, as he bled to death on the deck of his absurd ship. Above him, the stars mocked his fate with their twinkling dances. Their light faded as did that in his own moronic eyes. A tear of regret slid slowly down his pasty cheek, shed over his own folly for ever thinking he was fit to make such a journey, on such endless and cruel ocean as this. As his tear hit the bloody deck, he slipped into the bittersweet embrace of death.

Or so he thought. When the imbecile’s eyes opened once more, they didn’t light upon pearly gates or burning pyres. No, they met those of the Dread Pyrate Blackbeard! His eyes smouldered like fire in his magnificent face. 

It took effort to speak after so long in the arms of Morpheus, but the idiot forced out his words, compelled by the sight of this great leader of men, this paragon before him. 

“Blackbeard,” he croaked.

“Yes.” The Dread Pirate’s voice rumbled like thunder. “Tis I.” 

“Oh, Blackbeard,” the twat replied, “I really love… I love the way you dress. I love the way your hair, your beard, and all that.”

“Um.” Lucius set the journal down. “Well.”

Izzy’s eyes narrowed. “What? It’s a record. I’m recording what’s been happening aboard this fucking French fancy of a vessel.”

“Sure. Uh huh, definitely. That’s definitely what this is. Mind if I make some suggestions?”

“Yes.”

“First thing: I’m pretty sure neither of them has said anything remotely like this. We wouldn’t be in this mess if they had, would we?”

“I said I didn’t want your fucking suggestions.”

“I know, I’m ignoring you,” Lucius said. “Second thing, I’m honestly not wedded to the setting. It’s too… wuthering.”

���The fuck are you on about?”

“Maybe something on land would have better French fancy vibes? Oh, perhaps a cute little farmhouse!” Lucius picked up his quill. “Let me just rework this… It was a hot and sultry day and Stede Bonnet was this close to whipping his shirt off…”

[onehellofaridesmau]

🎧 - 5 (Prose)

Stede’s got no clue what he’s doing. Objectively, this is a bad idea. The saving grace in his idiotic behavior that had been texting Mary will still be a moot effort if this Ed fellow does, in fact, turn out to be a bit homicidal. Or even something half as bad.

Then again, Stede’s been out of his depths and treading water for the better part of 20 years. If this is how he goes out, let no one say he didn’t have a spectacular downfall in the last 6 months. Like a particularly dense little star burning for far too long, finally collapsing in on itself in a brilliant super nova of questionable decisions and freedom. Like a sheltered kid going to college and cutting loose for the first time in all the wrong ways.

(Stede will never be incredible like a collapsing star and he was too afraid of his father to be anything other than a model student at school — They’re both bad metaphors and this is still, indisputably, a bad idea.)

“Jesus,” Stede mutters to himself, his fists tight around the steering wheel; knuckles white. He’d hoped the ride would offer some time to either relax or come to his senses but there’s no one out this early in the morning and so he’s made great time, and he’s pulling up outside of a nondescript bar called Hornigold’s before he’s had time to do anything other than sweat a little. It’s a delightfully sketchy dive, carved into the side of a large brick building which does not advertise anything at all on the main street.

Outside is a singular figure. A man in black leather pants and a tight black shirt. He’s got two fingers hooked into the collar of a leather jacket, which is slung over his shoulder. (It’s frigid, even sputtering a bit of snow, but the man has a sheen of sweat over his bear arms so maybe it was sweltering in the establishment.) Wild hair in a messy bun. Gold eyeliner glittering in the light of the lamp above the door. He’s smoking (hot, Stede’s mind adds, unhelpfully.)

Stede thinks he might have a stroke. He’s unsure what he wants the answer to be when he rolls down his window and calls:

“Are you Ed?”

The man’s eyes flicker to his, cat-like in their scrutiny. Stede half expects them to flash in the same manner as a cat’s in the dark of the early morning. And then he grins a feral sort of grin and Stede resolutely does not let out a humored huff at the fact that that, too, is rather feline.

“Who’s asking?” Says the man.

“Um— Stede. You texted me … earlier.”

The man looks deeply intrigued when he approaches the car, folding his arms in the window as he assesses Stede. Stede watches him back, trying not to show his nervousness. When their eyes catch Ed seems to be expecting him to say something — Stede can’t begin to guess what — whatever it is, Ed let’s it go as the second tick be, shaking his head a little and laughing.

“Can’t believe you actually came, mate.”

“I said I would.”

“Could’ve bailed.”

Stede laughs a little, self-deprecating. “Yes, I suppose I could have. Am I to understand you don’t want the ride then?”

Ed yanks the door open and slinks in. He’s got a certain finesse to his movements, but he’s also clearly been drinking.

“Nah, I want the ride. Just surprised me is all. That doesn’t happen often.”

“Ah, well, we must keep each other’s lives interesting musn’t we. Where to, then?”

Ed gives him an address and Stede sets off. It’s further away - about 20 minutes.

Stede is distinctly aware that Ed’s eyes haven’t left his face since Ed got in the car, like he’s trying to discern something from his profile.

After a time, he finally breaks the silence with a simple:

“Alright. I’ll bite: Why?”

“Why what?” Asks Stede, his eyes flicker to meet Ed’s. They’re deep brown, rich and intelligent, even if they are a bit unfocused at the moment. Stede looks back at the road.

“Why’d you give me a lift, man?”

“I told you, I worried you’d hurt yourself otherwise. And you were quite persuasive in your texts!”

Ed snorts, amused. “Hmm… Well, thanks.”

“Of course, anytime.” Stede means it. He’s stopped saying things he doesn’t mean. Still, he’s sure Mary and Lucius and his small but growing group of new acquaintances would be horrified to know he’s got this little self preservation.

“Dangerous to be saying shit like that.”

“I know,” says Stede, “but even so. And anyway, perhaps this is a sign to become a ride-share driver. I always fancied I’d look rather dashing in one of those cabbie hats.” He smiles, “what do you think?

“Yeah mate, I could see it. Let your curls poke out around your ears and all. Could be a good look.”

“Exactly!”

The GPS beeps. “I believe this is your stop.”

“So it is,” says Ed. He’s watching Stede again. Stede’s not sure if he’s always this inclined to make eye contact, or if it’s because he’s drunk. Or for some other reason altogether. Still, it makes Stede a bit fidgety. Like he’s being properly seen. A new experience.

“M’going to text you again,” says Ed, as if making the decision right then. He nods to himself and slides out of the car.

Stede watches him walk up a flight of stairs to a brownstone.

Ed turns around and points at him: “Don’t block my number,” he hollers into the empty street.

He’s grinning wide and bright, little flakes of snow turning his graying hair white. Stede finds himself smiling back. He offers a little thumbs up, for lack of anything better to say.

Ed turns back to his door and Stede waits until he unlocks the door and slips through before he puts the car back in drive. Just before the door closes, Stede sees Ed turn back and catch his eye offering a small smile, barely recognizable through his beard but for the crinkle of his eyes, and a two-fingered salute.

[edactually]

Ed POV - 8.1

When Anne entered his hotel room, the first thing she did was check the mini bar. Ed didn’t blame her for that, she had seen plenty of occasions where he’d spiralled and that was his first port of call, but all the drinks remained untouched.

The second thing she did was climb under the covers to join him in the bed, and then she pulled him into an absolutely bone-crushing hug. She didn’t ask for details. Anne knew him so well, and she would let him give the story in his own time, but right now he just needed a friend to hug. She carefully prised his phone out of his vice-like grip and took one look at his screen, and she knew.

It was the photo of Stede on Sam’s instagram. Ed had been staring at it ever since she’d told him of its existence. She set the phone facedown on the bedside table, returned to the hug, and waited.

It was a long time before Ed had the courage to speak. “He went back to Sam.”

She massaged the roots of his hair with her fingers, digging into his scalp the way he liked. “Who is Sam, honey?”

“His boyfriend.”

Anne frowned. “Are you sure?”

“I crashed their first date. I forgot all about him until after Stede told me he didn’t want anything more than friendship, and then I ended up crashing another one of their dates.” Ed sniffled. “And then last night, Izzy made up some stupid lie about needing me to end the call with Stede to go to a meeting and Stede believed him and hung up. I tried to call him back but he wouldn’t answer. Now I know why.”

Anne didn’t fill the silence that followed, she just continued to stroke his hair like she was soothing a dog during a loud fireworks display.

“He wants Sam because he’s a nice, normal guy.” And the tears were flowing even though Ed felt stupid for crying over something that never was. “Sam can drop everything to go out for drinks with Stede. Sam can put him first. Sam won’t get dragged away from him because of tours and rehearsals and meetings. Sam can give him the attention he deserves.”

“Honey,” And Anne’s voice was soothing, like being tucked into bed with a warm blanket. “It’s the nature of your job, it’s not your fault. You think Mary likes that I’m away for months on tour with you guys?” She tutted. “Not at all. But we put the effort in and we work at it because we know it’s worth it.”

“I can’t ask Stede to do that.” Ed whispered. “We’re not even a couple, how can I ask him to put in all the work it takes to maintain a relationship with someone like me?”

“And have you?” Anne raised an eyebrow. “Asked him, I mean.”

He shook his head. “I don’t want to scare him off.”

“Maybe you should ask him and let Stede decide if he’s scared.”

“It’s too late.” He pulled out of Anne’s hold and rolled to the other side of the bed. “He’s made his choice and it’s not me.”

She tutted at him in that irritating mother-hen way that set his teeth on edge. “Now you’re jumping to conclusions. Just talk to him.”

Anne was not his mother. She was younger than him for a start, she had no right to tell him what to do. “No. I’ve screwed his life up enough, I need to let him go so he can be happy and have what he deserves.”

“Honey, I just think if you talked to him–”

“I said no!” He snapped, and then immediately burst into fresh floods of tears. When Anne pulled him back into a hug, he went without complaint.

Anne just held onto him tight and stroked his hair as he cried a damp patch into her t-shirt. “Ok, honey.” Her voice was soothing again. “It’s ok. Just lean on me, that’s it. I’ll make it better.”

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

i love your work! you write my favorite boys so well!!! (didn’t know I needed a steddyhands x reader fix but i 100% do) I love how you write izzy!

could we have some unexpectedly badass reader? like they’re sweet and gentle all the time and everyone assumes they’re harmless but then the crew gets attacked and y/n just lets loose and it turns out they’re easily one of the strongest members of the crew.

either with Izzy or all three of them? maybe even a continuation of the one where reader takes care of izzy?

i just want reader to be cool and the boys freaking out since they thought you were amazing before and now you’re also badass?!

thank you if you decide to do it and no worries if not! ill be waiting for you next post either way!

Izzy Hands has a competency kink! Sex is alluded too but doesn't happen.

SteddyHands Discovering your a Talented Fighter:

The violent rocking of the ship followed by the sound of cannon fire had the four of you shooting up in the bed you shared, the bed that Stede had extended just after the four of you got together.

"What-" Stede began to question and everyone untangled their limbs from each other.

"We're being raided," Izzy was already on his feet, pulling on his clothes with single-minded determination. Edward jumped up just behind him, dressing just as quickly.

You cursed to yourself as you joined them, tugging on your clothes as quick as you could, while Stede stumbled out of bed to dress as well.

The four of your were dressed and out the door within the minute, being greeted by the chaos out on the deck. Izzy was right, of course, you were being boarded.

You and Izzy had your swords drawn only seconds before Edward did while Stede assessed the deck and accounted for his crew.

Snapping into action, Izzy barking a few orders across the deck. Orders that included for you and Stede to get back into the cabin.

Stede had improved his swordsmanship through his lessons with Izzy but didn't yet meet the first mate's standards, and Izzy suddenly realised he had never even seen you wield a sword. There was no way he was letting either of you get hurt, you would stay in the cabin while they handled this.

Edward, feeling protective, was inclined to agree with his first mate.

"I'll be fine, Israel," Stede assured him, finally drawing his own sword.

"Don't worry, love, I've got this," you promised, giving him a small smile before scanning the deck again.

Noticing that the Swede was getting overwhelmed by the side of the ship, flailing his sword around and only just deflecting his opponent's attacks, you jumped into action and hurried over.

Taking his attacker by surprise, you caught his sword arm, twisting it and tripping him over the railing.

The captains and first mate couldn't hear you over the rest of the chaos but you shouted something at Swede over the noise, who just nodded and hurried off to do whatever you told him.

Before they knew it, you had completely thrown yourself into the fray.

"Fuck!" Izzy growled as he lunged into the fight.

Edward watched his first mate, the familiar ruthlessness as he protected his ship, a small smirk forming on his face. Stede nearly called out for Izzy but thought better of it, he could handle himself, instead turning his attention back to you.

"Edward, perhaps you should assist them," Stede suggested, worrying as he nodded towards you.

"I think they have it handled..." Edward looked to you, gaze lingering a moment.

You moved like a fury, a force of nature, unstoppable and immovable. Predicting each move of your opponent, lunging and cutting without mercy, a fire in your eyes and Edward recognised. A fire that he and Izzy once possessed.

Clearing his part of the deck, Izzy spun around to see where his lovers were.

The captain were at the the top of the deck, fighting back to back, watching out for each other. Edward fought just like he did all those years ago, majestic and menacing. Stede cared for presentation, and had certainly improved, but had yet to match his co-captain's skill. He very well may never reach that level, due to no fault of his own, but he was proving he could handle his own.

Izzy tore his gaze away, searching for you, only to be surprised by the sight he was meet with.

You were dancing around the deck, a threatening look on your face but making no error in making childish taunts. Everything you did seemed thought through as you moved like something from myth.

And when you pulling one of Jim's throwing knives out of the mast and landed it between the eyes of an opponent before he could even get within ten feet of you, Izzy felt his knees go weak.

He managed to pull his attention away, getting back to the task at hand.

With the enemy crew defeated, Izzy ordered Ivan and Fang to lead the rest of the crew on dealing with the other ship.

The usual, pillage and burn. The ship would turn to ash for daring to attack Blackbeard and the Gentleman Pirate.

Once everything was under control and the Revenge was sailing as far away as possible, the four of you retired to the captain's cabin. Old and new aches flaring up as you all shrugged off your outer layers, slumping down into the plush seats of the sitting area.

You all took it in turns to wash, barely a word spoke between any of you yet, tired and tense. Izzy was the last to wash up and you had headed out to grab something to eat and drink while he was in the bathroom.

You returned to the cabin with a tray of bread, meats, and water, nothing fancy just enough to rehydrate and refuel. You set the tray down, only then realising the three sets of eyes that were on you.

Glancing between the there men, you tried to read what they were thinking. They were just staring at you, their expressions unfamiliar. "Are...is everything alright?" you asked with a frown.

They were staring at you like a siren had just wandered into the room.

You looked between them again, you couldn't think of what might have been wrong. The crew was mostly unharmed, only receiving superficial wounds, which was a miracle but still true. So, it couldn't have been that. There were some repairs to be made, of course, but nothing they couldn't manage or afford once they reached a port. Plus, they had come out of the whole thing making a profit from the spoils from the other ship.

So, what was that look on their faces for?

"Why didn't you tell us you could fight like that?" Edward asked, watching you with wide eyes full of...adoration?

None of them had ever seen you fight, at least not at your full potential. They had always felt overprotective on raids or when danger was around, over both you and Stede to be fair.

They honestly just didn't think you had it in you. You were always so kind and easy-going among the crew. You had never been anything but sweet and gentle when it came to them. Though, of course, why would you have to be anything other than sweet and gentle with them?

You were patient, soft. They hadn't thought you capable of taking on another crew like that. Clearly, they had been wrong.

"Oh, uh...I'm a pirate, I thought you'd just assume I knew what I was doing," you answered, brow furrowing slightly.

"Knowing how to fight isn't exactly common among this crew," Izzy reminded you.

"Be kind, Israel," Stede sighed, even if he wasn't completely wrong. The crew had handled themselves just fine today.

"I'm right about this, though!" Izzy insisted.

"He does make a point," Edward agreed, reminding Stede that, "you aren't really doing things traditionally."

"I suppose that is true," Stede hummed before turning his attention back to you. "Anyway, my dear, why hadn't you mentioned your skill?" he asked.

"It just never came up" you shrugged. "Stede, I did tell you that I sailed under a different flag before I signed up with you, didn't I?"

"You did, my fault for not assuming, I suppose," Stede nodded.

"You could have mentioned something so we wouldn't worry when something like this happened!" Izzy sounded frustrated but you saw right through it, right through to the fear.

"Israel, darling..."

"C'mon, mate..."

"No, no, it's alright," you assured them before approaching where Izzy sat.

Taking his face in your hands and brushing your thumbs against his cheeks. "I'm fine, my love. I didn't think to mention it because I thought you all knew. Whatever you want to know, I'll tell you, but please rest with the knowledge that I can look after myself and you needn't worry about me during a fight," you assured him, hoping to soothe his worries.

You felt the tension leave his body as he let out a sigh, nodding in understanding and acceptance. You smiled softly, such a contrast from the cruel grin you wore up on deck only hours ago, and gave him a tender kiss. Reminding him that you were that, that you were okay, that everyone was okay.

Sensing that most of the concern had drained from the room, Edward stood from his seat. "Okay, cool, because you were so fucking hot!" he praised, practically tearing you away from the first mate and pulling you into him to give you a searing kiss.

You couldn't help but giggle into his kiss but instantly returned it, gripping at his shirt.

"You and Izzy out there, fighting like fucking hurricanes," Edward murmured against your lips.

"Really?" you asked playfully.

"The hottest fucking thing I've ever seen," Izzy mumbled his agreeance, making you and Edward laugh before the captain kissed you again.

"Well, I have to agree, you were quite the sight, dearest," Stede came up behind you, taking his turn to embrace you. Edward releasing you as the other captain turned you around. "A fierce and dashing pirate," he pulled you into a passionate kiss.

"Thank you, love," you laughed softly, slipping your arms around his waist. "I really was just doing my job though," you insisted.

"Oh! Perhaps you could help train the crew. I imagine you'll have a gentler hand than Izzy," Stede suggested.

"Not my fault they don't fucking listen," Izzy huffed as he pushed himself up from his seat, relaxing some more as Edward pulled him into your little huddle.

"I'll give it a go, Stede," you promised, honestly not minding. Plus, it would help protect the crew.

"Are we still talking or can we get a more private look at your skills?" Edward asked suggestively, hands taking hold of your hips as he pressed up behind you, murmuring against the nape of your neck.

"Edward, I'm sure they're very tired after that display," Stede chastised lightly, as if his own hold on you didn't tighten.

You laughed at their light bickering as you reached out for Izzy, taking hold of his shirt and pulling him closer to you.

"I think I'll manage," you assured them, lowly against the first mate's lips.

You managed to steal a quick, biting kiss from Izzy before one of the captains swept you off of your feet and hauled you over to the bed.

[rabdoidal]

when i think about israel hands, i think of a kid thats a few years younger than edward teach, but on the same ship. they’re both swabbies with a mediocre captain, and they get pushed around for being weedy and shit at their jobs, but they stay on that crew for years. at night their hammocks swing together, and izzy is captivated by him - hes a great big liar, izzy knows, but the lies are fun enough to pretend to believe for a while. years pass, and izzy hardens into someone with a permanent scowl, mouth pulled into a tight line - his face only softens, only opens up around a handful of people anymore, and one of those people is his ed. ed-and-izzy are inseparable, and when edward teach joined captain hornigold’s crew, izzy followed. when hornigold gave ed control over a small vessel, izzy followed. when blackbeard was born and he took over an even bigger ship, izzy followed. both of them were very different from the kids that met all those years ago - neither were afraid of a brawl, both talented at sword fighting (izzy slightly better) and both with stubborn hearts. but izzy was patient with ed - he knew him, more than anything else, as edward. he knew how ed’s mind worked itself in knots, how he would circle and obsess over issues, and that if izzy could break those spirals, ed would go back to being the fearsome captain he knew and loved. and there was such love there - for years and years, izzy learned patience and intimidation tactics and how to lie and more than anything, how to deal with the people ed didn’t want to deal with. other captains, his crew - izzy learned the tells and tricks on how to talk to people, all so his captain could focus on being blackbeard, dread pirate of the seven seas. somehow, through it all, ed still likes him - still wants him around, still has him as first mate, even through fighting and arguments, ed loves him. 

years, years, years later, along comes stede bonnet. for the first time in decades, izzy cant fucking figure this guy out, and he cant figure out why blackbeard cares enough to meet him, to expend resources on helping him. izzy tries to be calm, tries to be avoidant, tries to get the measly crew in working order, tries to snap ed out of whatever obsessive spiral hes falling into with stede, tries to be reasonable, to be demanding, to trick, to stab, to get the fucking military involved. he sees what washes up on the side of the revenge when the crew nearly pitch him over. he sees the shell of a man that he loved, and maybe ed never loved him back at all, because izzy tries to bring blackbeard back, his blackbeard, who he was before stede bonnet, but the grief in him blossoms and consumes him, and izzy hopes that these are the first stumbling steps towards normalcy, rather than an even deeper spiral down. eventually, izzy is going to realise things have only gotten worse, and that nothing he can do can get back his edward, because hes playing second fiddle to stede fucking bonnet.

[bemusedlybespectacled]

so at this point I'm just fully on the Izzy Hands apologia train, so I want to talk about a potential redemption arc for Izzy. because I do think it's possible for him to have a redemption arc, I think it would fit with the tone and message of the show for him to be redeemed, and because we already have a framework for his redemption, and that framework is Mary's character arc.

Hear me out!

The point of "Discomfort in a Married State" (including, like, its fucking title) is to compare Stede and Ed's lives before meeting each other. nearly identical scenes are juxtaposed with each other (ex: Stede showing the model ship to Mary being followed by Ed getting excited over the model ship to Izzy) to directly compare the two relationships. and this comes up again and again, including in interviews with David Jenkins: if Mary is Stede's jilted spouse, Izzy is Ed's. both relationships are unhealthy, just in different ways.

So, okay, why is Stede and Mary's relationship unhealthy? is it because they are both inherently bad people who are awful for each other? no. it's because they are two profoundly different people who are both bound by the same unhealthy societal structure.

Stede has to adhere to a specific set of societal norms, which include being a specific kind of masculine (not crying and picking flowers), being heterosexual, being married to a woman, and having children. and I'm not even getting into the class stuff because I'm focusing specifically on the heteropatriarchal problems here, but there is also A Lot Of Class Stuff. And Mary also has to adhere to a specific set of requirements, which include being a mother, not having a career, having all of her desires being subordinate to her husband's, and lacking any legal freedoms.

And they're both absolutely miserable.

And the thing is, Mary and Stede have done everything they're supposed to do. They got married. They had kids, including a male heir. They both do that thing where they get each other presents they'd rather have for themselves, and they clearly don't care about each other's interests, but they're not violent towards each other or even constantly arguing. On the surface, they have a perfectly fine arranged marriage for the time; not a love match, but a lot better than some other arranged marriages. But they're still miserable, because they aren't the problem; their situation is.

And what's Mary's solution to this problem? Try harder at being married. Clearly what we're doing isn't working, so if we just do even more than what we're doing, force ourselves into these roles we've been stuck in even more, maybe we'll get to be happy. Because clearly other married people are happy, so it must be that we're just not trying hard enough.

Now, we the audience know that that's not the problem, because no amount of 1700s couples' therapy could ever make Stede straight. but Mary doesn't know that, and the only tools she has access to are within that same structure, and so the only conclusion she can draw is "we must not be doing marriage right. if we just do it more and we do it better, we'll be happier."

But what happens when Mary becomes a "widow"? She is legally independent. She can parent the kids how she wants to. She can have sex with someone she's actually attracted to, that's actually satisfying. She can pursue her own hobbies, have a career, and sleep by herself in her own fucking bed because she's no longer trapped in all of the baggage that comes with being a married woman in the 1700s. And this is clearly not just a thing for her: the whole point of the "grief counseling group" scene is that they're all happier as widows than as wives.

And that's why Stede has to "die" a second time. Because the solution to their dysfunction isn't to be married better; it's to free each other from the same restraints. It doesn't matter that they've resolved their differences or understand each other more! It has nothing to do with them or their relationship! It's the system they're in! They will never be happy so long as they're being forced into roles they don't want! So the only solution is both of them getting out of it!

OKAY. SO LET'S TALK ABOUT ED AND IZZY.

Ed is in the same position as Stede at the start of the show. He's bored and depressed to the point of being suicidal; he's attracted to Stede specifically because he is different than all other pirates Ed has encountered.

And Izzy knows this! Izzy knows how Ed feels! And what's his solution? "You're not doing piracy correctly. You need to pirate harder." That's his fix every single time.

His reasoning is different (it's Stede's bad influence on Ed, not a simple lack of effort), but it's the same, over and over again: if you're not happy as Blackbeard now, that means you need to be Blackbeard even more. Stop playing with the model ship, boss, we need to do The Uzsh to these imbeciles. Stop having scones with marmalade and telling ghost stories on deck, boss, you need to murder him. You have to be Blackbeard, not "some namby-pamby in a silk gown pining for his boyfriend."

And you know what? Ed does that! He does that so fucking hard! That's what the Kraken is! And what's the last we see of him? Sobbing uncontrollably with eyeliner running down his face because spoiler alert, it turns out just being even more Blackbeard didn't fucking work.

The issue isn't that Ed isn't trying hard enough at being Blackbeard. The issue is the expectations of being Blackbeard: being violent, being domineering, hiding all negative emotions other than anger, refusing to admit fear or weakness, and having socially acceptable interests (i.e. not fine fabrics). In other words, toxic masculinity.

But Ed's already had a go at giving up those expectations. He was totally ready to wear the Depression Robe around and write emo song lyrics and host a talent show and whatever. But Izzy didn't, and that's why it failed. So long as Izzy is bound by the same strictures, he's going to keep trying the same thing over and over again, because the system he's in doesn't have any other tools for him to use, and that means crab-bucketing Ed back into his toxic version of piracy. To get Ed out of this horrible, claustrophobic system, Izzy needs to get out, too.

And like, I think at this point in canon, Izzy is maybe getting an inkling that this situation isn't great for him, either, but he's not going to recognize it as a systemic problem so much as a Kraken-specific problem that, again, could just be fixed if you did piracy better. Not a problem with toxic masculinity in general, absolutely not. it's just Blackbeard doing Blackbeard wrong.

He's certainly not feeling the same monotony of their day-to-day pirate lives that Ed did... but neither did Mary. She was upset at the very idea that Stede would think their lives are boring. She didn't know things could be better until they became so by Stede's abandonment.

I feel like it has to happen for any kind of satisfying resolution to Izzy's character. It seems to me that it would be profoundly unfair for Izzy to be denied the chance to escape this repressive prison he's in because he's repressed and is acting accordingly. that's some circular logic right there.

tl;dr: I want there to be a redemption arc for Izzy, and I want that redemption to be he and Ed freeing each other from the toxic cesspool of violence and pain that they're both currently trapped in.

[dragonmuse]

I would love to see Izzy and Lucius’ night at the Revenge in Somewhere Only We Know. Do Izzy and Eddy end up talking about the books after the show? Also, anything about Eddy’s past in this universe and how they made it to the Revenge and found Stede. Did she work for Hornigold without Izzy? Did she get out earlier?

(Combined the answers up a little! Someone else asked about Pete and Lucius meeting in this universe and while I don't get into it, I think it answers their question too. Hope you enjoy!)

“That was wild!” Lucius was a little tipsy, flush with it. He had his arm around the back of Izzy’s chair and his shirt unbuttoned at the neck. “The thing with the chainsaw?” 

“Definitely...new,” Izzy ventured. It was still mostly dark in the bar, but with the show over people got up and milled around. 

Izzy had paced himself a little more with the drinks, but he was pleasantly warm and happy to lean back against Lucius’ arm. 

“I like the jugglers.” 

“I’m shocked,” Izzy said blandly. 

“Oh shut up,” Lucius laughed and kissed his cheek. “I’m going to get another drink. Maybe take a gaze around, you good?” 

“Happy hunting,” Izzy dropped a hand to his thigh and squeezed once gently. “Might go back to the hotel soon-ish.” 

“Okay, love. If I come up empty, I’ll go with you.” 

Lucius gave him another kiss, this one on his neck, then was up and away.  Izzy stayed, picking up his glass and sipping at the last of a vodka tonic. The Revenge smelled better than most bars he’d been in. And the chandelier was really something. The kind of place Christopher would charm Dean into trying and meet with disaster. 

Lost in that thought, Izzy didn’t register anyone coming towards him until they were practically on top of them. 

“Hello again,” Eddy loomed over him. She’d taken off the drag makeup and most of her costume, but she was still in a shiny black silk sheath that showed off her many tattoos. Beside her was someone that was likely the host of the show, now also wiped clean. 

“Hello,” Izzy raised his glass a few inches. “You put on some show.” 

“Thank you,” she smiled like a cat blinked, slow and sly. “This is my husband Stede, he’s Charlie’s father.” 

“The one who bought the first edition,” Izzy gave him a bland smile. “Thanks for that. I hadn’t seen that cover art in a long time. One of my favorites.” 

“No, thank you,” Stede sat down, perching on the edge of a chair. Eddy followed suit, taking up Lucius’ abandoned seat. “Those books have meant a lot to Charlie. I don’t fully understand them, but they resonate quite strongly with him.” 

“Glad to hear it,” Izzy always felt a little awkward receiving such compliments in the wild. At signings they were expected. 

“You know that your husband’s flirting with Pete?” Eddy’s eyes were seeking something in the dim. 

“Sounds about right,” he nodded. 

“Pete’s married,” Stede frowned. 

“So’s Lucius,” Izzy laughed. “But don’t worry, he’s not a homewrecker. At least not intentionally. Sometimes men lie.” 

“Sometimes,” Eddy agreed, her eyes darting back to his face. “Sorry if i was a little........ odd. At the signing.” 

“Don’t worry about it” He took a sip of his drink to buy a second to find the right way to phrase it. “Fiction sometimes doesn’t feel so made up.” 

“Oh, I agree!” Stede gushed, “It’s amazing how easy it is to feel as though you’re reading about friends.” 

“Or yourself,” Izzy said levelly, eyes still on Eddy’s face.  

“Could you get me a drink, my love?” Eddy asked Stede lightly. 

“Of course,” Stede was on his feet immediately. “What would you like?” 

“Surprise me.” They touched the back of his hand gently then tracked him as he walked away.  

“How long have you been together?” Izzy asked to keep himself from blurting out ‘what the fuck do you want?’. 

“Eleven years. We met here. Stede owns the building, rents the upstairs. I was looking for a new office. He refused to rent to me,” she told the story with amusement for all it was stripped to bare bones. “I set out on a campaign to convince him because I liked the place and instead I wound up owning half of it by law. Gave up the business to run the club. Turned out he wouldn't rent to me because he was giving the spaces away for free to charities.” 

“You work together?” 

“Every day.” 

“Us too,” Izzy nodded. “Though I’d guess it’s far quieter work.” 

“Pretty loud on the page,” Eddy said idly. 

“Yes. That’s where I do most of my screaming.” 

“I worked a job like Dean's. Most of my twenties. Some of my thirties.” 

“Did you?” Izzy swirled his glass a little, watching eyes slide around and around. 

“You get that a lot, I bet.” 

“Usually more in letters than in person, but yeah. People who see themselves in Dean have wrestled with things, usually.” 

“My boss at the time was a monster,” Eddy went on conversationally. “But I was good at it. Worked alone mostly.” 

���Ah,” Izzy sipped at the glass that was now mostly vodka flavored water.  

“Mm. The problem with working alone in real life is that sometimes you almost bleed out in a country where you don’t speak the language,” Eddy’s voice was almost dreamy. “You pick up scars and no one remembers how, but you and if you forget....anyway. It’s a long way to say that I get your reasons, but I stopped reading after the fourth book.” 

“The gunshot wound,” Izzy surmised. 

“Yeah. What was the line...” Eddy frowned and then started reciting words that Izzy had written late at night so many years ago as if they had kept Eddy company in the dark too. “Death greeted Dean like an old friend. Maybe the only friend he’d had for long years. They had taken walks together many times, each dodging the other's heavy steps and now it had come for that last long stroll into darkness.” 

“Little overdone, my editor hated it,” Izzy crunched into a piece of ice. “But he does make it home.” 

“That doesn’t mean it didn’t eat part of him along the way,” Eddy spread a hand on the table, as if to steady herself. Their fingers were long, tattooed in places too. A scar bisected the top of her hand, and Izzy tried not to imagine what could cause it.  

“True. I try to convey that when I can, but serial fiction...gotta keep the guy on his feet. And like Luc said, he does have a partner at home. He gets up off the ground because he’s got something to live for. Not saying to read it, but he spends book 5 in a hospital bed for the most part, solving a crime with Christopher’s help without ever leaving the room.”

“Why would he want to bring that home to him?” Eddy asked. “I got out before I met Stede. But I would hate for any of that to touch him.” 

“Sometimes you don’t get a choice,” Izzy shrugged. “But I’m just a writer. The worst thing I’ve gone through in the last thirty years was losing a first draft to a spilled cup of coffee on a keyboard and going into anaphylactic shock over a mislabeled fruit salad. You’d know more than me about it.” 

“Feels like you lived it though,” Eddy leaned back in their chair studying him. 

“Nothing even close. But I know what it feels like to hurt. If that translates then I’m doing my job right.”

“Here we are!” Stede returned, setting down a colorful glass in front of Eddy and a plainer one in front of Izzy. “You two seemed to be having a good chat, so I got you a refill, I hope that’s all right.” 

“Fine, thanks,” Izzy managed a tight smile. “How’d you know what I was drinking?” 

“Oh, your husband told me,” Stede laughed. “He’s quite a character.” 

“That he is. I think he’s hoping that I’m being flirtatious,” he picked up the drink.  

“Are you?” Stede’s tone dipped a little. Jealousy? Desire? Not that it mattered. 

“No. Never have been, probably never will be. He likes to think I just need to meet the magic right person. Keep telling him that’s just him and he has to live with it, but he’s a stubborn brat sometimes.” 

“Brat?” Stede’s nose wrinkled up. “Aren’t you about the same age?” 

“And he’s still one, amazing isn’t it?” Izzy laughed and picked up his drink. Eddy had gone quiet, but he was aware of her eyes still on him. “I like your place, by the way. Chandeliers are...something.” 

“Oh, thank you! They were absolutely hellish to locate, but I always thought they really sell the space.” 

“Sure,” Izzy agreed.  

Once opened up, Stede was a burbling brook and didn’t require a lot in return. Izzy’s favorite kind of conversation partner. He sipped through his drink slowly, mostly making agreeable noises at the correct intervals. Eddy didn’t even do that, though their eyes were on his face the entire time, a fond smile slowly curling on their lips. 

Lucius turned up right when Izzy had finished the drink and was trying to find a not entirely rude way to leave. 

“Heya.” 

“Hey,” Izzy titled his head back to look up at him. “Done?” 

“Yeah, I give up.” Lucius slid his hands over Izzy’s shoulders. “You?” 

“Tired,” he agreed. 

“Then let’s go.” 

Izzy got to his feet, made his goodbyes. He followed Lucius halfway to the door, then hesitated. 

“Can you get the cab? Think I forgot my card.” 

“Sure,” Lucius kept going, suppressing a yawn. Izzy wondered if he’d actually struck out or if they were finally reaching the day when even Lucius couldn’t make it to 1 AM without getting annoyingly sleepy. 

Eddy was alone again, Stede having swept away towards the stage, talking to one of the other performers. They glanced up long before Izzy reached the table like they sensed his return. 

“Forget something?” 

“Yeah, a recommendation,” he pulled a pen out of his pocket and pulled a bar napkin towards him. “I’ve got a friend, a new writer. Her style is pretty close to mine, but definitely her own voice. Her gal is P.I. too, but she’s got a whole agency. Best friend, lover, work partner. More upbeat stuff. Quirky mysteries. You’d like her.” 

“M. Read,” Eddy read off the napkin, “Rattling Bones?” 

“Luc does her covers too. Give it a shot.” 

Eddy took the napkin, folding it and then it seemed to disappear. She was fast. 

“What’s the email address underneath for?” 

“So you can tell me how you liked it,” Izzy told her.  

“Oh,” Eddy smiled up at him. “Hey. Thanks.” 

“You're welcome,” then he turned on his heel and walked out of the Revenge. It’d be a nice visit, but he was ready to go home.

[candied-cae]

I saw this post by @the-road-goes-ever-on86 about S2 stuff and they mentioned Ed meeting Mary- and I immediately imagined a super dramatic conflict between Stede's "lovers". Something a little scary and aggressive, like Blackbeard wanting to burn the whole world down to figure out "Why did he leave me for her?" And so I wrote a thing. Enjoy!

Is Blackbeard Not Better Than Mary Bonnet?

This is Part 1 of Our Family -> Here's Part 2

Chapter 1/1 - - - Read it on AO3

Word Count : 3,864

Summary : What happens when a pirate scorned catches news that the man who abandoned him returned home to his nearly widowed wife instead of fulfilling their promise to one another? Or, maybe worser, what happens when that pirate finds out that the man he regrettably loved died saving that woman from a wild jungle cat?

That pirate finds that woman and means to take his revenge on her himself. While he's there, he might as well find out what was so special about Mary Bonnet, right?

More OMFD Fics

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It's been weeks since Stede left his old family home to sail after Edward again. In the time after, Mary and Doug felt more comfortable moving their relationship forward. To keep appearances in town, Doug was publicly keeping his own house for the time being, but he'd privately moved in with Mary and the children. They found themselves in a quite loving manner of living now that they'd been able to properly move on from Stede. As awkward as his return had been, it truly helped bring the whole marriage to a close without leaving any feelings of guilt or shame to linger. It was really what they all needed.

And Doug was great with the kids. Stede loved them, of course, but his mind was always a hundred miles away. He was never going to be the kind of father Doug could be, he was born for something else. Mary's darling loved playing games the children suggested, reading them stories, making their treats, running errands, teaching them new things, and even taking care of house chores. Sure, most people complimented him on being a good friend to Mary in her second round of Widowhood... which was less than ideal as he'd rather be complimented on his dedication as a partner. But they figured after a few more months passed they should be fine to overtly court and eventually be wed.

It was a wonderful plan at least, but those were events for other days yet to come. On this day, there were things to do. Mary was entrenched in a new composition she'd been going at, told Doug not to wait up for her, and that she'd be in late. She knew she could trust him to take care of the kids and allow her the time and freedom to work on her passion until she made enough progress that she felt like she could go inside. Hours passed and it was completely dark when she did finally exit her studio. She had finally finished it; the piece she envisioned and spent so many days revising was done. It felt good, the satisfaction that seeped into her bones after completing new work. A sensation she still felt was new as she'd never been able to have a specialty like it before Stede ran away. 'His first proper gift to her' she'd give some credit in her heart.

Stede and her were not meant for each other. They butted heads, found it impossible to understand the other's interests, had no intention of sacrificing themselves for the other even slightly. He never even would admit there was anything wrong. They were never going to work. But it could've been worse. He could've gone on denying how unhappy they were and remained anyway. When he abandoned them over a year ago, it stung, but that morning when she read the letter... Mary felt such a relief. Sure, she was now a widow, a single mother, and had so much additional responsibility. But she was free, he was free, she found community, real love, and her own heart's desire. Stede got his ship, she got her canvas, and they found the people they were meant to love. It was a fine ending to the Bonnet's marriage.

She returned to the home under the black midnight sky, only a barely-there flicker of candlelight in their bedroom window. Of course, Doug was still awake. He always managed to stay up until she was tucked in next to him. She stretched her back out with a few satisfying cracks as she walked down the hallway, quietly sweeping past the children's rooms as not to wake them. She felt bad knowing she wasn't able to kiss the kids goodnight, but she would be at the table in the morning for breakfast to plant smooches on their foreheads and ask them about their night.

She enters the door to their dimly lit bedroom and starts shedding her outer layer of clothes and untying her hair as she approaches her armoire. There's a moment of normalcy as she waits for Doug to ask about her progress on the art, as he always does. Mere seconds where everything is the same, but in low candlelight she catches the silhouette of a stranger, startling her as she drops her waistcoat with a sharp gasp.

He sat in a chair opposite to her love, Doug, who was rope bound to the other. He looked rugged and worn, with tan skin, waving black hair, streaked with grays that ran longer than her own. He was dressed fully in black, his exposed skin covered in tattoos, and dark charcoal smeared around his eyes and lower face. Those eyes were cold, and they were looking right at her.

“Who are you? What’re you doing- Doug?!” She stammers out, not even sure which question she wants the answer to first.

“I’m alright darling-“ Doug is cut off when the pirate buries a knife into the wooden chair between his legs, silencing the two.

Mary grabs a fire poker from beside the bedroom furnace and holds it like a sword. In all his experience, Blackbeard would comment that her form was off. It would be easy to disarm her if he wanted, but she wore a fierce look on her face if anything. Her knuckles were turning white with her grip like a vice on the handle and she stood resolute to defend her home.

One look around the overly lavish setup they were in and he would've guessed she'd simply scream and run for the door. A fearful little mouse running from a wild cat. The chase would've been fun, he admitted to himself. But sure, a direct conflict was bound to be more intriguing. And he was here to learn, was he not?

“Have you done anything to the kids?” She snarls at him, a far more beastly performance than he was expecting from such a prim and proper lady of higher society than he.

A hallow smile cracks across his face and he can see in her eyes that her heartbeat had dropped to her stomach, her blood run cold, she was surely thinking of a million terrible things he could’ve done to the little buggers. Her man of the house was restrained, and they are so small they couldn’t have stopped him. There was no one skilled enough to fight him off.

He lets her stew in that terror as his crooked expression seems to have her nailed in place, before he relents with a casual,“ Nothing."

"I was even so courteous as to allow dear Doug here to lay them down to bed before I came in. You ought to thank me for my candor, for being such a thoughtful house guest.” he teases, using fancy words just to watch the way it made Mary’s face twist. Like she couldn't quite make sense of the conflicting clues laid before her, he was a wild man using her world's words and demanding thanks... how was she to figure what she could do about him?

The fire poker starts shaking in her hand before she pushes out a rigid voice dripping with the contempt she can't manage to hide,” Thank you… now, what do you want?”

Then with a sudden jaunt up, Blackbeard stands and rips the blade from the wood chair, stuffing Doug's mouth with a clot of fabric to stifle any noise he might further make. He can't have this mere audience member distracting from his prey or interrupting his business.

He steps toward Mary with a loose carelessness that brings terror, how he walks so casually, nearly swinging his weight around. Like he knew he was going to win," You know, you're holding it all wrong. You’re all open and gentle with it. How do you plan to put me down like that?”

With low yelps, Mary swings the iron piece at the invader. Each attempt pulled the involuntary sound from her. It leaked out in such a way that you wouldn't even need to look at her to know she didn't know what she was doing, and that she wasn't coping with the situation in the slightest.

“I’m not even close enough for that to work, little miss. Here let me help you,” he says as he takes long steps forward in a blasé manner that makes her want to lose her mind.

Her eyes widen and she takes a shaking step back.

“Now now, don’t shrink away- I’m trying to help you. Give it another go.” he dares her.

She sets her brows to furrow further and leans in, continuing to whip her weapon through the air as Blackbeard dodges it with ease. Simple shifts to his right or left, he's even got one hand in his pocket, for god's sake. He's not even trying. He's just toying with her and still, she's completely outmatched.

“Swing and a miss, swing and a miss, and another miss. I can only do so much of the job for you, Miss Mary. Aren’t you gonna get me? Don’t you want to protect your family?!”

Tears begin to well in her eyes as she continues to swing her weapon to no avail. She was being tormented and jerked around like a plaything for his amusement.

“Oh, come on-" He says it like he's exasperated by her," It’s a fire poker, Mrs. Bonnet, not a fire slasher. Come on! Try jabbing with it!” He yells, rilling her up.

She takes his advice and tries thrusting forward with the pointed tip of the piece. At least she’s not dumb, he wonders. The rounded sides of the length of the poker would've only provided a bruise had she even managed to hit him with it. At least this way she stood a chance of leaving a mark. And after a few moments more of evading her endeavors, he gets bored. Mary’s adrenaline might be running through the roof, but there’s so little to be excited about with this pitiful performance she's providing.

He wants to bleed. Wants that sharp pain to flood his body with the feeling it knows so well. He wants to feel some real pain that can drown the pathetic emotions trying to bumble around his heart. He wanted to cover Stede’s house in that blood. He wanted to paint it with part of himself, to spill crimson on the thing that stole Stede away. So he carefully takes the stab from her improvised weapon into his left side, right on top of all the other scars. The second in his collection to be left by a Bonnet.

Her poker plunges into his skin with a sort of squelch she could’ve never even imagined had it not been happening just feet away from her. A frail scream escapes her lips and the tears fall over her lashes, a gentle trail left on her cheek as she's frozen in her place. Frozen everywhere but her grip, which loosens almost completely.

With little more than an acknowledging grunt, he comments,“ Still open" before bringing his left arm down into the iron rod, ripping it from both his gut and Mary’s hands. It falls to the ground with a clatter and he kicks it across the floor behind him, scratching the wooden floor as it slides away. His shirt was beginning to soak with his blood and the way he doesn't even care sends further terror into her heart.

"You were never going to beat me." He says as he closes in, and holds his blade to Mary's throat cornering her and pinning her against the wall.

From behind them Doug was struggling against his binds and screaming unsuccessfully into the textile. Mary holds her head up against the wall, the knife not quite pressed to her skin, yet so close she can feel its chill. More tears slip down her cheek as he seems to look over her like he's studying her.

“What do you want?” She whimpers through shaky lips.

"What do I want, what do I want..." he mutters as he casts his gaze back into her eyes," Such a vague question really."

"Please," She begs," We can give you money, possessions, I don't care. You can take any of it. Just leave us be-"

"Now, now. You were almost interesting when you had such a wild look on your face. Don't go spoiling it now with this poor, weak sight."

Mary takes a swallow of her nerves and clenches her jaw, steadying her expression.

"There we are. Much better now, little Bonnet. Now, tell me about yourself."

Her eyebrows quirk up at that," What?"

He presses the sharp edge into her neck in response, not enough to draw blood," I said, tell me about yourself. Who is meager Mary Bonnet?"

"I- I was born Mary Al-Allamby. Mary Allamby. 1690, on March - on March 15th to Victoria Archer and Lione-"

"Boooring. Don't waste my time with the boring bits." He scowls down at her.

"I don't know what you want to know!" She throws back.

"I want to know what's the point of you. What's the allure? What can you even offer?" he says as he once again looks down her body like he was also judging it inadequate.

"I don't see why that matters-" Mary tries to dismiss.

“WELL, OBVIOUSLY IT MATTERED TO HIM! I WANT TO KNOW WHY! I WANT TO KNOW HOW YOU COULD POSSIBLY BE THE BETTER! I CAN’T FIND A SINGLE REASON HE WOULD CHOOSE YOU! I'M BLACKBEARD! THE BLACKBEARD. BLACKBEARD SHOULD ALWAYS BEAT LITTLE, POOR MARY BONNET!” he barks into her face.

She slams her eyes shut at the violent yell, further tears running down as she begs the man whose name she recognizes from all the horrid stories that washed in from the sea,“ I DON'T KNOW WHO-“

“WHY DID STEDE PICK YOU?! EXPLAIN IT TO ME! BECAUSE IT DOESN'T MAKE SENSE!"

"STEDE?! THIS IS ABOU-" Mary's voice dies in her throat as she connects the dots.

Blackbeard the pirate. Stede. Him 'picking' her.

"You're Ed," she concludes with a shuttering breath.

There's a reaction there. More than when he'd been stabbed, there's a reaction to the name.

"Blackbeard." He repeats, daring her to use the other name again like that would be reason enough to gut her right then and there.

"I don't- I don't know what exactly happened between you and Stede." she manages through further stutters," But-"

"You don't know? How many times will you say you don't know? Do you know anything? Or is this head simply attached for looks?"

"I-"

"I bet you didn't even know the first thing about him. If you did, you didn't care. Yet, he ran back home to you. A little rich girl, with no skills, no knowledge, no use. And you still can't explain it to me. Might as well cut our time here then." he taunts.

"No! No, no. I- I can explain what happened."

"Sure you can, now that you'd like to stall for time. But I won't let you steal any of mine. Stede came back for little, worthless Mary and then died for her, and she doesn't even mourn. Already has another fella in bed by the time I made it to town. I'm not going to waste my time on the unfaithful Miss Bonnet for another moment." he finishes raising his knife from its place on her throat to ready his strike.

"STEDE'S NOT DEAD!" She bursts.

Once more, there's a reaction. A widening of his eyes. Shock and ache painted on his face as clearly as the black. His arm pauses in its high position, angled at her heart, yet it does not sink in for the kill.

"Stede's not dead." she says again," He came back, and - and we still didn't work - now, it was worse than before he left. And- and - and I was going to kill him."

With that, his grip on the dagger tightens as he seethes," But- But I didn't! We talked - we talked some and made a plan. And then we faked his death. So he could go back."

"You were going to kill him, and you talked it out?" he asks, doubtfully.

"Yes! We were never in love. Not for one moment. It was killing us. And he was so different, and it had ruined the life I made as a Widow. So I was going to make it real, but - but he didn't want to be here anymore either. We can barely stand one another. But you. Stede loves you."

"If this is your plan out of this, it's not a very good one."

"I swear! He asked me about me and Doug. About how we knew we were in love. And after, I hoped he could find someone who makes him feel the way we do. And he said he already had someone. Ed- he said that person was Ed." she squeals out the last bit as Edward's eyes narrow.

"They said he was maimed by a jungle cat, ran over by a carriage, and crushed beneath a piano. You're saying all that was something simply mistaken?"

"I swear it's true. We put together the scheme with a fake body and everything so he could go back to sea without all this waiting for him here. As we planned it all out, including the carriage to take him to the coast, he said it'd work because it was an excellent fuckery."

"A fuckery... he called it a fuckery?" the voice asks, seeming to have softened as he loosens his hold on her and lowers the raised weapon.

"He did. He didn't really choose me. It was more a lapse in judgment if anything. He chose you as soon as he was honest with himself. Truly."

Edward stepped back. Stede chose him. He left him, and then chose him, but then he died, and yet didn't die, and now he was on the ocean alone? This was just supposed to be a chance to answer the question that was burning a hole in him since the day Stede never showed. The truth to fill the void that remained when the news of his sure demise reached the ship. It was just supposed to be the death of Mary Bonnet, the woman who stole Stede and got him killed. But... Was Stede really searching for him? What does that even mean? Now that he did so much damage to The Revenge and her crew?

While his mind feels like it's buzzing with lightning, he is pulled from his thoughts when an offered handkerchief enters his view. He looks up at Mary's face as she holds out the piece, and that's when he realizes he's crying. Hot tears streak down his face, pulling with them the black makeup he donned as armor. If her expression was any hint, it was a genuine grant. He accepted it with a gentle hand and wiped his eyes dry while she quickly ran to her lover and removed the gag he'd placed there.

When his hands are released, Doug holds Mary's on his shoulder while she speaks to the suddenly emotional pirate in their bedroom," I don't know what happened over the months he was gone, but he was changed when he was back here. He slept restlessly. Drank too much. And once, when Doug tried to calm him, Stede looked like he'd entered a frenzied state and nearly took his head off. If it's any consolation, I think something scared him just before he arrived. Something really bad. We never loved each other as a man and wife should, and Stede particularly never really had any positive relationships in his life as far as I could tell. He didn't know how love was supposed to feel, Ed. If it seemed like he left you and picked me, it was only because he was scared and confused. He didn't know any better."

"He didn't?" Edward asked, carefully this time as his rage was dissipated and that sad wound reopened.

Had he never noticed it? Surely he would've, right? That Stede didn't even know what love was? It was true they'd barely talked of Stede's past, but... to not even know what it looked like? It was at that moment that Edward remembered that he only began to recognize real love when he was able to witness it in others after years of piracy. Stede just got out there, if he didn't know what love was on the mainland, he didn't have the time to figure it out before they planned to abandon their Acts of Grace.

"No. But the moment I started talking about loving Doug, he got this warm look on his face. Something I'd never seen from him before. And without any hesitation, he told me that his love was you. He knows better now. And he's out there, looking to get back to you."

"He's out there, right now?" Edwards asks, more to himself than the other two when he remembered what he'd just done to them" Shit - I'm... I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Please. Think nothing of it." she excuses.

"Think nothing of it? But-" Doug begins to argue, seemingly not satisfied with Mary's quick dismissal of what nearly just happened.

Mary squeezes his shoulders rather tightly to shut him up," Please, Ed. Don't worry. I was ready to kill the man just a few weeks ago after he threatened my love and I began to worry I'd never get my life back again. I'd say this firmly evens the scorecard between our two relationships."

"Thank you. I... I need to go."

"Of course. Keep the hanky. Tell Stede we send our regards, hope he's gotten back to his dream. And of course, if you were to visit again. A heads up and less pointy things would be appreciated." she ends with a bit of a laugh to herself.

"Yes, absolutely. No more pointy things in Miss Mary's home," he says the name this time with respect like it might help wash away all the other less than gentlemanly comments he'd thrown at her.

"Sounds like a plan. Now, off with you." She says to send him away, but as he turns to race out of the house she adds," Don't run in the hall! If the kids aren't already woken up I'd like them to stay asleep through the night."

"Yes, ma'am. Apologizes again." Edward concludes as he quietly slipped from the home.

As soon as he was outside he was running. With everything he had, Ed was running. To get back to the sea and find Stede. Wherever his favorite person ended up, he'd sail every corner to catch him. There was still much to be said, questions Ed had that only Stede could answer. But Stede was alive, so he'd be able to. And if Stede was alive, talking wasn't all Ed was longing for. That first kiss was just meant to be their start. As soon as they were reunited, Edward planned to pull Stede Bonnet into his arms again and share in another.

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This is Part 1 of Our Family -> Here's Part 2

My Other Works ❤

Feel free to go and leave it a kudo on ao3 too, if you want ❤

[bliphany]

Farewell, Bonnet’s playthings.

First time I watched this I was like... I know you were upset but marooning the crew was one thing, to the point of calling them playthings was a bit too rude. (I know, my priority is weird...)

But then it occurred to me that to many people who didn’t know Stede, his choice did seem like just some rich guy playing house. He had the ship built. He hired his crew and paid them salary. And above all, to this point of the story, he seemed to always have another world to go back to once he got tired of this game.

For many of the crew and for Edward, this piracy life wasn’t really a choice. The only retirement was probably death. They didn’t have some other place to go to if they got burned in this life.

If I loved someone and for once believed this person saw me as who I was/wanted to be, to the point that I considered to rebuild my whole life and identity around this love only then discovered that they always had some “better” option than me and would choose that the second they got the chance, I’d probably feel I had been some toy for them all along.

So in the thinking vein, Stede had been just playing house. The ship and the crew were his playthings. And hey he got the chance to meet the legendary Blackbeard! And wow Blackbeard found him fascinating and they hang out and became best pals. Blackbeard even fell for him and chose to give up everything to build a new life with him. Fab! But then Stede didn’t want that. Maybe he was tired of all this game. He had already played this game to its highest level anyway. He could slip back into his old life just like how he slipped into this pirate life.

Nothing in this life on the ocean mattered to Stede after that. Not the books. Not the things in his cabinet. Not his ship and not his crew. Not Edward.

And to me this was the moment he tried to maroon Edward too since he was also just some fun but disposable stuff for Stede.

If he also viewed the hurting part of himself that way, disposable, maybe it wouldn’t hurt that much thinking how Stede treated Edward.

And he could always treat them worse. If he robbed all those playthings away from Stede hard enough, maybe Stede would forget for a moment that he left them first, that he had decided that they didn’t matter, maybe Stede would feel at least a bit hurt.

[i-am-a-hog]

Might I humbly make a request for Prompts 75 (and maybe also 131) for your next writing endeavour? Thanks, love you, bye!

75: Who are you? 131: You have a cold, you're not dying.

Drabble collection on AO3

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When they heave him on board, he is bloated, unconscious, barely alive. Ed keeps his face under control but his mind is reeling.

He didn't think he would see Stede again. Let alone like this. Ed can't very well be angry at a half-dead person, even less when he factors in that he is still very much in love with him.

So he retreats to the captain's quarters and orders a sick bed to be made there. Once it is done, he throws them all out. Only Stede is left, lying beneath the blankets unmovingly. His breath is shallow but steady and now Ed has to figure out a way to deal with all this.

It gets worse before it gets better. Stede doesn't wake up and comes down with a fever and Ed is awake all night, cooling his forehead and making cold wraps for his calves and worrying himself sick.

Eventually, Ed passes out next to Stede and sleeps a couple of hours in broad daylight.

Someone brings something to eat. He barely manages a spoonful.

Stede wakes up unexpectedly during the second night. He is delirious with fever; his eyes are glassy and wide and his skin is flushed. It reminds Ed of their first meeting in a way he doesn't want to think too much about.

"Who are you?" Stede rasps and it takes Ed a moment to realise that the words are aimed at him.

He considers the question for a moment. He's not sure who he is, who he is to Stede and also in general. He has become haunted by identity ever since Stede left.

"I'm a friend," he says eventually.

Stede manages to drink some water before he falls asleep again.

Another day passes.

Stede's fever breaks some time on day four. When he wakes up, Ed isn't there and when he returns, Stede is sitting up, head in hands.

"Am I dying?" he sniffles pathetically.

Ed snorts. "You have a cold. You're definitely not dying. Not anymore."

"Ed!" Stede yelps, then promptly winces, presumably because of a headache.

"Yes." He reaches for a pitcher of water and a mug.

Stede accepts the drink with unsteady hands.

"What happened?"

"Don't know. You were floating up to the ship, we got you on board. I was hoping you could tell me more."

A frown twists Stede's features.

"I was looking for you."

Ed freezes.

"Why?"

"I figured out I'm in love with you."

Stede looks at him and Ed can't meet his eyes. He crosses the room in a few steps.

"You're delusional. Go back to sleep."

He only returns to the room late that night, slightly more drunk than he wants to admit. Of course Stede wakes up when he enters.

"We don't have to talk about it," he says, and Ed replies "Good."

He can't do this right now. He makes his way over to his own bed, carefully avoiding Stede while fully aware that he was tracking his every movement.

Hours later, he still lies awake. Stede wasn't delusional.

Stede meant it.

Before he can think better of it, Ed is sitting next to Stede, curling up next to him.

If Stede wakes up, he does not show it, and Ed is grateful for it and doesn't even flinch when Stede shifts and a warm hand settles on Ed's arm.

Maybe he will be alri-

"Achoo!"

"Fuck's sake!" Ed yells.

He's never going to fucking be alright like this.