#pest izzy

[whats-mine-is-hers]

enthralled by the idea of him wandering around pestering his crewmates

[carrymelikeimcute]

Steddyhands Fights

When Ed and Izzy argue, Stede either backs out of firing range or tries to get them both to calm down. Afterwards, he tries to make peace by gentle parenting them, or shamelessly picks a side and gets bitchy until the other person gives in (it's usually Izzy, lets be honest).

When Ed and Stede argue, Izzy usually vanishes completely. This doesn't stop them both seeking him out later to bitch and whine and give their version of events like he's the fucking judge judy of the pirate world. He refuses to pick a side, they're both wrong. Fuck off.

When Stede and Izzy fight, Ed watches in amusement. Normally they settle things between themselves - loudly and with a certain amount of damage to anything that was on Stede's desk at the time - but sometimes things cut a little deeper and Izzy will go back to treating Stede like an unwelcome pest, while Stede ignores him. Which is when Ed'll lure them to a confined part of the ship and lock them in until they make up or get it out of their systems.

[squealing-santa]

A few self discoveries

Author: @abihasablog

A/N: My Squealing Santa submission for @ticklish-scribbler, hope you enjoy!

Izzy doesn't think he's ticklish, and can't really understand why Ed seems to like it so much. He's very glad to be proven wrong.

Steddyhands, ler!Stede and ler!Ed with lee!Izzy (plus an extra lee!Ed sprinkling, as a treat.

Word count: 1660

---

It had been a long and horrid day, and all Izzy was looking forward to was falling into bed and sleeping off his bad mood. He pushed open their front door, calling out a tired greeting to whoever made it home before him. Instead of the usual reply, a high pitched squeal came from the living room. Suddenly wide awake, Izzy dropped his bag and dashed towards the sound. When he sees the cause of the noise, he slumps back against the wall with a groan.

“Iz! Help!” Ed shrieks, wiggling in Stede’s grasp as another raspberry is blown against his neck. “Ew, that’s gross!”

“Hello darling,” Stede ignores Ed’s giggly protests as he digs his fingers into his hips. “Did you have a lovely day?”

“Thought you were being fucking murdered, Ed, you cannot possibly be that ticklish.” 

Ed flushes pink and he tries to scowl.. “Nohohohot!” 

“Not ticklish, hmm? Then why are you laughing?” Stede’s fingers slide up to curl against Ed’s belly and spider across the softness there. “You should have heard the noises he made when I gave his tummy a good raspberry! I would recreate it for you, but I promised to ease off once the tears started. Maybe next time, hmm Edward?” 

“No next time!” 

“Oh, we both know you don’t want that.” 

Izzy rolled his eyes and shrugged off his coat. “It’s like living with a child.” 

“Like you’re any better!” Ed cried indignantly. “Let’s see - aha - how you stand up against torture!” 

“I’m an adult, Edward. Adults aren’t ticklish.” 

Stede halts his fingers. 

“I beg to differ,” he says. He holds out his hand towards Izzy, and very slowly and deliberately crooks his finger. “Care to prove me wrong?” 

Between them, still nestled underneath Stede, Ed shivers. 

“Why would I do that?” 

“Because you love to be right, and if you’re not ticklish then there’s nothing to be scared of.” 

“It’s fun, Iz,” Ed chimes in, looking a little embarrassed at the admission. “Stede’s good at it and he knows when to stop.” 

Izzy grits his teeth. He hadn’t been tickled since he was a child, and didn’t really fancy being poked with clumsy fingers in an attempt to prove himself right. But Stede was looking at him like he was a meal, and Ed was flashing his big baby cow eyes - two things he could never resist. Sighing in defeat, he holds his arms out to the side awkwardly. 

“Where do you want me?” 

Ed jumps up immediately, grabbing cushions from the sofa and chucking them on the carpet. “More room on the floor.” 

“If I get on the floor I’ll never get up again,” Izzy gripes. Stede tuts, sliding from the sofa to kneel next to the cushion pile. 

“I’ll help you up darling, fear not!” He pats the space next to him. “Ed’s right, more room down here for exploration!”

“Explor-?” Izzy startles as Ed grabs his hands and tugs him down, nudging him until he submits to being moulded into position. “I can manage!” 

“Manhandling is all part of the experience, just shush and let it happen.” 

“You’re such a pest, you know?” 

“Boys,” Stede interrupts with a soft laugh. “Edward, clearly I need to spend some more time on you if you still have the energy to be a brat.” 

Ed clears his throat, blushing. “Well, if you think it’s best.” 

“I do,” Stede grins. He turns his attention to Izzy, then, and taps his elbows where they rest at his sides. “I’ll need you to put these up over your head, try and keep them out the way if you can.”

Izzy rolls his eyes, but does as he’s told. 

“Standard safeword rules apply here, and yours is…?” 

“Red,” Izzy recites dutifully. 

“Excellent. I’ll ignore all other assorted pleading and or begging, and - oh don’t give me that look, just you wait - unless you say your safeword. Agreed?”

“Fine.”

“Excellent!” Stede claps his hands together. “Now, I think I’ll begin right… here.” 

His hands descend slowly to rest against Izzy’s sides. His tee shirt is tucked into his jeans, stretched across his torso with his arms held over his head. If it were Izzy doing the tickling, he’d pull the shirt up and go right in for the kill. Instead, Stede lets his palms lay stationery, and starts a gentle wiggle of his fingertips against the soft fabric. It startles a gasp from him, and his arms twitch to move back down to his side. He holds firm, though. Surely it was just the surprise of it? 

Stede watches him with a gentle smile, slowly moving his hands upward, his fingertips creeping along Izzy’s ribs. He feels the urge to snap his hands down and push Stede away, but he holds out, gritting his teeth and allowing his body a tiny wiggle as consolation. So perhaps he’d been wrong about not being ticklish. 

“Ooo, I saw that!” Ed chimes gleefully. “Knew you were the ticklish ribs sort, mate. Bet you’re ticklish all over, aren’t you?” 

“No,” Izzy grits out. 

“Yes you are,” Ed continues, wiggling his fingers menacingly. “Now the seal’s broken, I bet we could tickle you anywhere.”

Izzy opens his mouth to tell Ed to fuck off but is cut off when the fingers on his ribs move suddenly down again, to spider across his belly. The suddenness of it startles him enough that he chuckles, his arms snapping down instinctively to grab at Stede’s hands. 

“Aha,” Stede grins. “It seems I was right, after all!” 

“Fucking fluke,” Izzy says quickly, returning his arms to their position. Stede raises his eyebrows, meets Ed’s ecstatic expression, and goes back to it. Izzy’s hands grip a cushion as the teasing fingers explore his belly, finding all the spots that make him squirm. It’s soft enough that he’s not laughing properly, just the odd huff accompanied by a wide grin. Stede’s kind enough to keep quiet, but Ed has no such manners. 

“Oho, seems like someone is finding out some stuff about themselves today!” He wriggles his fingers along Izzy’s neck, making him scrunch his shoulders with a snort. “Is that nice, Iz? You like it when we tickle you?”

Izzy abandons the pillow with his right hand in favour of smacking at Ed’s legs, but his wrist is quickly caught and treated to a flurry of kisses up his arm, something that had never tickled before, but made a giggle build in his throat now. 

“Edward,” Stede admonishes. “It’s not nice to tease. It’s also very rich coming from you!” 

“But it’s fun,” Ed winks down at Izzy as he progresses his little tickly line of kisses up his arm until he reaches his inner elbow. 

“You know what’s fun, Izzy? Getting Ed all flustered and begging for more after spending such a long time teasing him.” 

Ed pouts, his cheeks turning sweetly pink. Izzy’s own face flushes at the teasing, even though it’s not directed at him. Stede’s words combined with the swirling patterns of his fingers against his belly were making butterflies take flight from every inch of his body. 

“I like to tickle him gently, just like this, all up and down from his hips to his neck. He’s especially ticklish just here,” he tugs Izzy’s top from his jeans and lifts it up over his belly. He wriggles the tip of his index finger into the space just under his belly button, and all the teasing bursts out of him in a loud train of giggles. “Yes, just like that.” 

“Nohohoho!” His free arm shoots down to push him away half heartedly, but Ed is quick to snatch it up and pepper that one with kisses too. “Ehehehed!” 

“Yeeees?” 

Izzy doesn’t reply, can’t reply, because Stede’s hands are suddenly under his shirt and in his armpits and all he can do is kick his heels into the floor and cackle. 

“Oh, you are just the most precious thing!” Stede coos, avoiding Izzy’s kicking legs by sliding over him in a straddle.  “Are you enjoying yourself, darling?” 

“No, fuck off!” 

“Hmm, that doesn’t sound anything like a safeword,” Stede slows a little, letting him catch his breath and regain control of his mouth. Ed gives his hands a gentle, reassuring squeeze. Despite the teasing, Izzy knew Ed was on cloud nine to discover that Izzy was finding this fun too. 

“It’s not,” Izzy says after a moment. “Think I was wrong before.”

“Oh? You mean you are ticklish?” Stede prompts. The word makes Izzy squirm, and suddenly he has a lot of sympathy for Ed and all the times Stede’s made him admit he liked it. 

“I guess,” he manages, as if he wasn’t all pink cheeked and panting. “Not as bad as Eddie, though.”

“But you both seem to love it equally,” Stede chuckles, ignoring Ed’s petulant whine. “But we’ve only scratched the surface with you! Perhaps you’d let me give you a thorough going over, to find out all your favourite spots? Perhaps I’ll have you with your legs over my lap, see if you can keep still while I give the backs of your legs a good tickling. Or maybe you’d let me give your pretty belly some raspberries, but I expect we might need Ed to hold you down for those, my darling.”

Izzy’s going to implode with the amount of self discoveries he was going through since getting home. Yes, he wants to say, please fucking do that. The gentle attention felt lovely, like when Stede played with his hair, or Ed mindlessly used his fingers as a fidget. He could see why Ed always seemed to beg for it. He has a plan hatching in his mind, a game to play with them both another time. He wonders if Ed would be up for some giggly revenge on Stede.  

He blinks sweetly up at them both, smiling with only a touch of leftover shyness. 

“Do your worst.”

[alexanderlightweight]

For a Wednesday prompt can we see more of Lilith as Alec's mother? Maybe him growing up and seeing her in dreams?

more desecration of souls and i hope you enjoy!

—

Her son grows so quickly, so sweetly and Lilith is the one who raises him. His incubator is a cold, callous woman who doesn’t deserve the son she bore. It makes it all the sweeter that he’s Lilith’s, that her precious little baby doesn’t coo for the nephilim who gather around him, but for Lilith.

His darling eyes darken from blue to a deep hazel and Lilith presses kisses of claiming magic to his soft little curls and chubby cheeks and the plump hand he grips her finger with. He’s solemn but joyful and he lights up in quiet delight that turns into delicate babbling and gentle coos. It’s as if he knows exactly who she is and that she’s his mother and Lilith’s heart is soothed by the adoration of her child, even if it’s still not enough.

Alec clings to the dark, where he knows she is, and he takes his first crawling motions towards the deepest shadows of the room. Her son cries mournfully when he’s taken out and paraded about the other nephilim and Lilith has to watch as he’s forced to ignore his fears and stifle his tears and be a quiet, good baby.

Lilith screams in Edom for him and wails and tears apart demons and makes new ones and sends them through the small cracks her bond with Alec have created. No one ever wonders why none of the demons that slip in the Circle’s bases avoid the nursery, they’re all too distracted by the way Lilith’s demons pick them off, one by one.

Lilith wants her son in her arms, and she wants to raise him. To hold him under Edom’s red suns or under the earth’s golden one and to kiss him without worrying that he’ll be stolen away. It’s with a troubled heart and a growing hatred that Lilith has to watch and let Maryse steal away Alec’s childhood.

Tiny fingers are taught to curl around a blade and when Maryse is blessed with another pregnancy — this time the child remains Maryse’s but that’s fine, Alec already belongs to Lilith —Lilith screams her rage as Alec is told that his duty is now first to his sister.

That night, when Lilith tucks the shadows around him and Lilith presses soft, wispy kisses to his hair and face, she reminds him. “What is it that you always need to remember, my little prince?”

“Mama knows best.” Alec tells her, so polite and obedient and already a hint of defiant mockery in his tone. “Baby Izzy isn’t really my baby sister, but she doesn’t know that, so I need to be nice. But she’s not mama’s baby so I don’t need to protect her.” Alec looks at her carefully and Lilith coos and pets his cheeks with trembling palms of darkness.

“Mama loves you, my sweet little angel.” Lilith tells him, because she can never tell him enough how much he means to her. “My precious little prince, I’d destroy the world for you, little one.” She promises him and she holds him as close as she can without a physical form and Alec sighs in contentment and his thumb goes up to his mouth in a display of childishness that Lilith has never discouraged.

Let her son be a babe, there will be decades upon decades for him to learn to be a prince and Lilith has enough time to ensure her son becomes and stays immortal. Alec isn’t like nephilim children, born to die as cannon fodder in a war between demons and angels, where nephilim are nothing more than guardians of a useless and defenseless herd.

It’s over a decade later that she’s offered a child again from the same man, but this time purposefully.

 “A child?” Lilith is offered and for a moment, she thinks this is it. She can use this to leverage Alec to her, to finally have and raise her son properly and then she pauses, because none should know of her connection.

“My own son, given to you to raise. A pact between us, a sign of respect.” Valentine says, but that’s a lie and Lilith has spied on him enough to know he’s a pest and nothing more. However, another child is something delightful and Alec would surely make a lovely older brother. It will be painful for them both to know that Lilith has a child in Edom that is not Alec, but surely her son will understand and be delighted in the knowledge that he now has a little brother.

Lilith isn’t expecting the screams or the torment or the horrifically burned little boy that ends up in her castle. He’s a mass of wounds and burns and Lilith is about to cauterize it all when she hisses and stops, because she has only one chance to properly heal him, and she knows from Alec how delicate mortals are at this age.

It takes her magic and scrying to figure out her best chance at healing her second child.

“Magnus Bane.” Lilith spits out angrily and when she sees his image. However at least he’s a demon she knows, and she watches greedily for a moment and pinpoints exactly what weakness she can use to her advantage.

When Lilith manages to finally contact Bane, it’s with both of them on a spiritual plane as they negotiate.

“My second son was horribly injured by his father when he was sent to me.” Lilith says and she gives Bane a careful look as she shows him the price, she is willing to pay. Bane’s eyes flash with hungry greed the moment he recognizes it, and his eyes turn a familiar, hateful golden as they meet her own.

Lilith drops her own glamor and relishes the way his nostrils flare and his magic clicks around him, he’s more careful than his father but just as annoyingly powerful, but Lilith is hoping this will create an ally, not another enemy.

“Why would you come to me?”

“Not many warlocks would be willing or capable of coming to Edom for a deal.” Lilith admits, “and I cannot heal him myself. However, I’m more than happy to pay a fair price and I think you’ll agree that the payment I’m offering is very generous.”

“I find it worth a trip to Edom.” Bane agrees quietly, a dark gleam of amusement in his face as he watches her, “and I’ll even heal your child for you.”

It’s enough for her and Lilith leaves him to his preparations, and she makes her own.

“Alec is so worried about his little brother.” Lilith coos as she pulls Jonathon into the ritual room, “so worried that he convinced me to go hire a warlock and bring him here. He’s going to heal you as much as possible, and then perhaps we can figure out how to pay your father back?” Lilith asks, because Alec had been upset at the idea that he both had a new sibling and that his new sibling was hurt.

“Alec?” Jonathan asks again, like he’s forgotten even though this is the fifth time he’s asked in the last hour.

“My oldest son, your older brother.” Lilith explains as she gently pets the crumbling skin of his jaw, “he was furious when I told him what happened. You were supposed to be sent to me protected, whole and healthy, Jonathon. Valentine will pay for his treachery regarding you, your brother and I will make sure of it.”

Huge eyes are watching her with longing and pain and Lilith coos as she leans down and presses a gentle, shadow-light kiss to her son’s face. She’s learned with Alec how to be gentle, and she uses every trick her eldest has taught her, treating Jonathon as if he is a babe newly born and oh-so-delicate.

“Thank you, mama.” Jonathon says later, sobbing in her chest as she holds him tightly in her arms, his scarred but newly healed skin no longer burning him alive or disintegrating under her touch.

Bane doesn’t seem to care about how emotional the moment is, he’s hungrily opening the box that Lilith harvested and his eyes are covetous as he looks at the contents.

“I accept the payment.” He tells her calmly and Lilith shudders as the magic settles in place, Bane will leave Edom, stronger than he’s been since the last time he left, and Asmodeus will be none the wiser.

Lilith used the death of a team of nephilim to secure enough energy to replace Bane’s magic in the trap holding Asmodeus in place. Her darling baby let her know when the right team would be out, ripe for the plucking and Lilith listened to her child and now, she is rewarded.

Her fingers run through soft locks, and she wishes Alec were here as well, that she could be complete with both of her children in her arms as she protects them from the world.

“Come child,” she tells Jonathon, and she absently leans down and presses a kiss to his brow, ignoring his surprised, frozen shock. “Let me tell you about your brother, he was quite insistent that he help even if he couldn’t be here. Do you want to see your room?”

Because Lilith understands from raising her child what children need and Jonathon’s room is full of soft things and weapons and books. All the things that a young Alec constantly craved and looked for with sticky, chubby fingers as he toddled about.

Jonathon will be raised in Edom, but Lilith will ensure that he lacks for nothing.

[the-gentleman-pining]

Decided to rewatch OFMD S2 eps 1-3 and actually jot down my thoughts as I go! Oh what fun! Ngl this is mostly for me babes but if you enjoy it that's neat ❤️

Episode 1: Impossible Birds

Stede bearded in his dream could just be playing to swashbuckling archetypes for funsies, but is it some lingering wish that he was more masculine?

Con O'Neil truly graceful about it with the sword huh

"WHERE IS HE. WHERE'S ED?" Stede seeing Izzy as the thing that is keeping Ed from him when he's the one that left lol ok

His idealised version of Ed doesn't hold him accountable either. My mans doesn't want to face what he did at all!!

His first words to Ed in his letter are reassuring him that the crew are safe, as if he doesn't remember that Ed marooned them and left them for dead on purpose??

I know it's meant to be funny but Jackie was a bit of a sex pest toward Swede at first and the power dynamic was a bit 🫤 Glad he was into it in the end!

WHY DOES WEE JOHN SLAM THE HEAD OF THE ONE WHO GOT STABBED INTO THE TABLE INSTEAD OF THE ONE WHO STABBED THEM?? 😂

Stede truly is unphased by people being assholes to him and I just,,, respect it.

Ricky your vibes are strange and unsettling

Who in their right mind would have an ocean wedding in the golden age of piracy?? I know they probs didn't know it was the golden age of piracy while they were in it but STILL

Ed looks so dead behind the eyes 😭 Just going through the motions eh buddy?

Dressed up like the book Blackbeard I see. God he's trying so hard to inhabit this character.

I would die for Archie. Truly the himbo we need in these depressing angst riddled times.

Jim asking someone else how they're bottling things up?? Hello?? Who are you and what have you done with Jim?? Aren't you the bottling up Master? Olu bewitched you too good and now you've unlocked Feelings 😔

"He's actually a good guy" Stede babygirl did we actually forget the marooning???

I have so much I could say about how Izzy and Blackbeard's relationship has deteriorated hhhhh,,,, Izzy is a problem child but I'm so glad the story is crashing towards his character actually growing and changing. In season 1 he at least got the crumbs Ed would throw him like "I need you here", now he's only getting abuse and maybe he's throwing himself at it because he recognises he had a part to play in reaching this point and believes he deserves it.

Fang's delivery on "how you doing Izzy" will keep me warm and fed all winter. Masterclass in approaching someone, truly tender and genuine but not too pressuring. God.

That second "unhand me" hhh the panic of realising you're going to start crying if the situation continues

Con is gonna rip my heart out and eat it this season if I'm not careful

Labour exploitation Jackie what a girlboss x

Why does "you'll be having a lot of breakfastseses together" sound so ominous though 😭 Smeagol Jackie my worstie...

Stede doing Blackbeard Voice is adorable but damn he really doesn't believe that he made Ed's life better. Like how??? Why doesn't Stede equate happiness with better? Ed was explicitly happier around you ya dingus!

Swede deserves his married bliss so much. The crew can be so mean to him!!

"What am I to you" and "I have... love for you" are said so softly I'm gonna be sick,, Izzy you fucked it by wrestling this man into this particular coping mechanism and your tenderness is coming wayyyy too late. Heartbreaking tbh cause the guy didn't know how else to help Ed and now he's realising it could have been different. Sick and twisted little dynamic I'm eating it like good soup.

Definitely supposed to be taken that Izzy didn't realise "talk it through" was a Stedeism as he said it but godddd you idiot dude

Once again god bless you Archie I'd die for you

Fang I want to rescue you hhhhhh my hot topic fashionista must be so dehydrated from all these tears!!!

No way in hell Ed expected anything else out of Izzy's mouth than something about Stede, but god I wish the guy had just payed attention to Frenchie shaking his head. The catharsis of saying the quiet part out loud wasn't worth your leg, man.

"Start by cleaning up that mess"... yeah we def see Ed is killing people himself again but outsourcing the Big Job on Izzy makes sense. He's also exactly the kind of self sabotager atm that would know Frenchie won't do it, and he's looking for reasons to Be Worse.

Indigo heist my beloved. Fuck those hammies up!! I love how loud Black Pete was omg 😂

Oh fuck off Ricky I know you're a S1 Stede mirror but you're doing it detestably

Roach why is your instinct to immediately put the blue dirt on your face darling

Zheng Yi Sao completely unphased by Jackie is giving me so much delight

Sexy Dutchman 😭😂 Jackie never change

I love that Zheng Yi Sao is taking the whole crew on just to have her lil Olu moment, get it girl

TENDER JIM IM SO HAPPY FOR THEM THEY'VE COME SO FAR. I LOVE THEIR BIG SMILE 😭 (also Archie is so wholesome what is she DOING here???)

Ed oh my god you're not alright at ALL

Frenchie's quiet "sounds like a plan" is just so... painful. The acting this season is off the charts.

When Roach asked if they were in soup now I thought he was referring to the ocean as soup I'm an idiot 😭

[bookshelfdreams]

actually yk what I'm gonna say this out loud.

I am sick and tired of people acting like Ed not allowing Fang to bring his shitty dog on board is some great injustice that he will have to beg forgiveness for.

"No pets" is a perfectly reasonable rule. They live on a ship. There's limited space and resources. Who in their right mind would think it a good idea to bring a dog on a pirate ship. How would you even feed it! They haven't invented dog food yet! There often was barely enough food for the humans, sailors were chronically malnourished (famously so! It's even a plot point in the show!), and you want to bring a dog?? What's it supposed to do on board other than just piss and shit everywhere and then slowly starve to death?

Speaking of which. Ed immediately gives the reason for not allowing pets on board - "They befoul the ship"! Which they do! And there's no way around it. Other animals at least are somewhat useful - livestock for fresh food products, cats for pest control (so they feed themselves and also they can easily be trained to shit in a box). But dogs? What use would a dog be on board.

The "the love of a pet makes a man weak" is obviously bullshit. Ed doesn't even remember saying it. It's the sort of excuse you come up with when your reasonable arguments aren't listened to. Ed clearly doesn't truly believe that.

Then Fang being "forced" to put his dog down. First of all, there's no indication Fang was forced to join Ed's crew - if his dog had been that important to him, he simply could not have become a pirate! He doesn't say "When you made me join your crew", it's "When I joined your crew", implying this was 100% voluntary. First of all. Second of all, you realize they didn't have animal shelters back then right? Would it really have been more kind to abandon that dog to a slow death in the streets? No. He's gotta take responsibility, and that means facing that this animal's life is in his hands. If he can't care for it anymore, and there's no other option, the least he could do is give it a clean death himself.

And lastly. The whole reason this is even brought up is because Izzy is a petty little bitch who hates friendship. Like. We realize Izzy is an unreliable narrator but not when it comes to this?? Not when he's clearly just looking for an excuse to dehumanize Stede? Okay lol.

Ed is perfectly within his rights to not want dogs on his ship and has very good reasons for that.

[slashingdisneypasta]

Cruella De Vil x Fem!Seamstress!Reader || Oneshot

Plot: Plot?... uh, I saw a picture on Pinterest of a bat corset (From JanesCorsets on Etsy) and wanted to see my wife in it XD Thats pretty much it. But um. Uh- This'll do;

You sew your boss into her outfit for the party tonight and some unexpected feelings come to life in the pit of your belly. And maybe other places, up higher.

When Cruella notices... she offers you a deal.

Warnings: Reader has a wandering eye and there's a splash of blackmail on Cruella's end.

Tagging: @asperol-with-izzy , @disney-android-foundation , @ghouletka , @lady-love88 , @marinerainbow , and @ryantryan6969 .

She looked amazing in the bat corset and skirt- and thankfully, it wasn't made of bat skin.

... it was painted crocodile leather and silk lining. But still, the fact that you managed to talk the fashion hawk of London out of killing a 50 bats for her corset and skirt combo, was an achievement.

And she really did look good in it. As you sewed her into it (Yes, the outfit needed to be sewed around her), you couldn't help but notice that fact. And not in a seamstress kind of way- in a lesbian way. Vaguely you were aware that these thoughts were unprofessional, thoughts like fuck is this woman hot and maybe i should do some last-minute adjustments to the breast plate,.. but also, working for her was unprofessional to start with. The House of De Vil was more like a battle field or Italy with the Borgia Family in charge; filled with betrayal and visciousness. So merely noticing Cruella's tits didn't really seem like that big a sin.

Once you'd managed to sew the back of Cruella's corset closed tightly, so she could not slouch and so it wouldn't come loose, you take your little thread scissors and cut the string free. Then you make sure that all the string is hidden away, and no loose ends hang free... then back up to get a good look at the outfit as a whole.

... good work, if you do say so yourself. (Its not as if she'll tell you so, after all. The cold, wicked bitch that she is- even if she is remarkably appealing all of a sudden)

As you smirk and appreciate your excellent handy work (Why be humble, anyway?? You weren't hired for humble), Cruella becomes impatient. "... Well?? Are you finished?? It looks like the drawing, so I assume you are- "

"-'It looks like the picture'?? Cruella, this is a masterpiece." You snap back, waiving a hand dismissively at her. You were never one to let your work by unappreciated- even by Cruella De Vil. Never. "Take it in!; you got a wall fulla' mirrors here. The dress, and the woman in it, look beautiful."

"Ugh, honestly. You are a pest Y/N." Cruella snaps back, rolling her eyes and scowling with those pretty painted lips of hers. She doesn't, however, threaten your job like she would anyone else for the lip you just gave her. Why?? Well you both know you're the best in your field. You can speak to her any way you want- she'll never risk you getting scooped up by a competitor. All her best outfits have been by you. Have had your name sewed minutely on the inside somewhere.

... For example, this particular outfit, has you name sewed into one of the breast cups- and right now as you look at her you're quite pleased you decided to put it there this time.

Cruella's eyes stray from her form in the mirror to you; catches your gaze on her chest. " -what are you looking at??"

"My work, madam." You shrug, smoothly, brushing it off with a sarcastic tone and lifting your eyes to hers- a challenging look on your face. ... is she gonna say anything?

Her eyes, so like a snake's from beneath a rock, settle on you darkly and challenge you right back. You wish you could say this was out of the ordinary, that you didn't often engage in optical battle with your employer; but you cant. This is a regular occurrence. So you don't have any trouble giving her the eye right back for a few moments.

"... I could've sworn you were staring at my chest, darling, like some common pervert. Am I wrong??" She knows she's not wrong. You know she's not wrong.

... You part your lips to say something, but the hesitation was just enough chance for her to strike. Damnit. With her hands (Claws) on her defined hips, Cruella narrows her eyes. "-because if you were, I'd have to file a harassment complaint- or something else silly, that the board always waffle on about." For a split second, you feel frustrated- but then Cruella simpers. She pouts her lips, and bats her eyelashes. She approaches you in that skin tight black leather bat corset and while you stand there perfectly relaxed, albeit a little honestly surprised, Cruella curls a loose strand of your hair around one of her talons. "... or," Or? "We could come to some sort of agreement? What do you think?"

Narrowing your eyes suspiciously, you squint at her. "... -are you serious??"

"As the plague, darling!" Her eyes go wide, almost innocent. When you don't respond, she sighs huffily with impatience. "Look- I haven't had a woman in months because of work. And I know you haven't had a woman in months- yes, I'm well aware you're a lesbian, dear." Well, its not as if you hide it; there's a sapphic erotica novel sitting on your desk that you've been flipping through on lunch breaks. "And I also know, that neither of us are going to meet anyone outside of work for months still, because I'm about to push the work load even further," That gives you pause, and you almost drop your jaw in outrage. She's what!?- Goddamit, this woman already has you all working 10 hour days in this hellhole- but Cruella just goes on. "So, I suggest that since we work so closely, together, anyway... -and also since you're not terribly offensive to be around... that we... " She shrugs, that pouty simpering 'innocent' look once again on her pretty face. "Make the best of it. Hm?"

With this woman's fingers in your hair, and her heated eyes on you, and her cleavage in front of you- it seems like a dream opportunity.

But you're not a dumb woman.

After an obvious look downwards towards her breasts, you give her pointed, raised-eyebrow-look. "What's the catch?"

She shrugs. She knows you're not a dumb woman. "You forfeit the chance to find a meaningful relationship outside of work, your whole life stays at work, I own you pretty much... but I already do, so that doesn't really change, does it?"

"... you own me??" You ask, deftly. Hmm... you kinda like that.

"What?.. You didn't read your employment contract?" She smiles broadly, and you're not sure if she's joking or not to be quite honest. Because no, you did not. Not fully; You were drinking when you signed it.

To be quite honest, though, you don't particularly care right now. She's right, you haven't had anything to do with another woman's body except to fit her, for too long. Your pussy's practically screaming for a fuck right now- you can barely think.

... would this be much different from your life already? You life is work- how else does one get as good as you are? And you've never been very good at relationships... not platonic ones, and not romantic ones. You're good for fashion, lesbian sex and the occasional scathing insult; thats it.

So this, with Cruella who's no slouch in at least 2 of those things as well (To your knowledge thus far), sounds...

Kind of perfect.

~

Instead of responding, instead of attempting to outdo her with the words she's so clearly superior with, you take the beautiful woman's face in your hands and draw her in for your first kiss which she responds to with intense satisfaction. Your hands trail down her neck, over the smooth skin of her chest and the tops of her soft breasts, then over the rough leather of her corset while her long, painted talon's scratch gently over your cheeks probably leaving marks behind.

After a few moments of voracious kissing, you both pull back; a satisfied smile on your lips and a gleeful on on hers.

"Excellent~ ... meet me at my home after the event, darling."

"See you then."

[canonizzyhours]

Welcome back, blog! Not sending anon, but I want to feed your queue in these trying times.

I was watching the Merstede scene again, and I'm sorry, how did the canyon watch THAT scene and still think Steddyhands, EdIzzy, or Stizzy was ever in the cards for canon? They fed themselves delusions for 5 episodes and 3 weeks that their ships were totally happening! The Merstede scene was raw and beautiful, and they thought a show would put that much effort into an epic scene of their main couple would toss it away to please a fringe fandom cult?

Yes, Ed heard Stede's voice as Merstede manifested, but he didn't even THINK about Izzy in the gravy basket, unlike Calico Jack. You learn a lot about a person while they're at their lowest point, and throughout episode 3, Ed and Stede were laser focused on each other around their actions and beliefs, and Izzy was an obnoxious pest that was swatted away. Frenchie and the ghost of Felix had better romantic odds.

#248.

[timeofjuly]

Resolutions

Note: Reader's POV of the New Year's Eve when they met Red. So sorry for the wait to the anon who requested this! As a warning, reader is very much in an altered state of mind due to drug use in this one, so proceed with caution.

Tags: Drug use, implied sexual content, angst, self-hatred.

Read it on AO3 or read it below :)

It’s New Year's Eve and you feel fucking fantastic.

You look hot. You feel hot, both in terms of your confidence in your appearance and the temperature; it’s sweltering in Izzy’s apartment. Too many people crammed into a too small space. It feels like there’s hands everywhere. Your skin is alight with warmth and touch, so many people close to you. They grow on you like vines, like weeds, like ivy, weaving ‘round and ‘round until you’re all bound together, one pulsing, living organism.

The music is so loud that it’s an almost palpable presence in the air; you can viscerally feel it filling your ears, pressing against your skin, pouring down your mouth when you open it to sing. It clings to you like plastic wrap as you dance, shaping your movements.

Sweat runs down your back and between your breasts. But you’re the hottest fucking thing in this room, right, so it just gives you a mysterious, sexy sheen, like you’re a fucking nymph or some shit, stepping out from behind a waterfall, batting your eyelashes at the Olympian raging to fuck you. You’re ready to be drowned in ambrosia. To choke on nectar. Swallow swallow swallow.

Fuck, your mouth is dry. Your tongue feels like sandpaper. Is this how cats feel, with their arid, pointysharp little tongues? You hope not, the poor things. This sucks.

“I need a drink,” you shout against the music, jaw clicking around the words, “anyone else want one?”

Izzy, your host, nods enthusiastically. She springs up from where she’d been dancing low to the floor and grasps your sweaty hand in her own cooler, scaly one. “I’ll come with you! I need a piss.”

You let her drag you from the throng of bodies into the bathroom, where you scroll on your phone as she sits down to pee. Your vision’s pleasantly blurry, but you manage to successfully reply to a few messages and send a few of your own. You then examine yourself in the bathroom mirror, mostly pleased with the way your hair falls, the way your makeup makes your eyes look dark and sultry. You apply a fresh coat of lipstick and smack your lips together, making faces at your reflection. The skin on your cheekbones stretches tightly, almost too-taunt, casting a sharp shadow.

For a moment, you don’t feel as pretty as you had before, but then your thirst returns with a vengeance, and you forget all about it. You stick your head in the sink, mouth poised and open beneath the tap, and drink deeply from the cool, refreshing water. Probably should’ve waited to do your lipstick, but ah well.

“You look like a horse,” Izzy snorts at you, hip-checking you to the side so that she can wash her hands. “When you said you wanted a drink, I thought you meant booze, bunny, not water.”

“A girl can want two things,” you say. Have enough and it all tastes the same, anyway.

Bunny is what this particular social circle likes to call you. You don’t really get it, but nicknames aren’t ever chosen by the person, are they, and it’s hardly the worst name in the world. You like bunnies, anyway. They’re cute. Fluffy, funny little things. They’re either pets or pests or lab animals, too, and somedays you feel like a mangled amalgamation of all three, so you guess it’s fitting.

Izzy washes and dries her hands and then does a line of coke off of the countertop. She offers you a bump, but you decline – tonight, you’re pacing yourself.

This year, you want to watch the time tick over to midnight, and you want to remember it. You’d gotten too fucked-up last year too early and had been out like a light by ten, so being awake and cognizant for this one is your resolution, or some shit. You don’t really do resolutions, but this one seems achievable enough. Stay up and ring in the New Year. Yeah, you can do that, you beautiful, gorgeous, magical creature. The world is ready to be bent to your whims. Midnight’s a piece of cake.

You follow Izzy back out into the party and to the kitchen, riffling through her fridge for a decent mixer. You end up pouring orange juice into two glasses, along with a healthy serve of tequila. If you had any grenadine on hand, you’d have yourself a proper sunrise.

You sit on the kitchen countertop to drink it, bare legs swinging lazily in the air. Izzy sits next to you, her hip pressed against your own. Her hand rests atop your thigh, drawing little patterns with the tip of her claw. The sensation makes ticklish goosebumps erupt all over your legs.

Your head is buzzing like it’s full of bees and it’s making your vision go a little funny. You blink a few times, then scan the apartment in an attempt to refocus your eyes. The party is still a writhing, pulsating mass, moving with the thrum of the music. Everyone looks so beautiful. You wish that you could live in this moment forever.

You know everyone – at least, you think you do – so you’re surprised when your eyes fall on someone you’ve never met before. He’s a monster, a skeleton monster, dressed in an oversized, dark jacket with a furry hood. He’s reclined on Izzy’s shitty sofa, looking easy and relaxed. His legs are spread wide, which you normally find obnoxious, but he’s really making it work for him. As you watch, he brings a bottle of something to his skull, and scarlet magic flickers to life inside of his mouth as he drinks. You watch, eyes wide.

The red of his magic looks hot – red-hot, you think, holding back a snort at your creativity. You knew someone, once, who would’ve had a far better, more eloquent, poetic way of describing it, but you’re refusing to think of her tonight. Even that tiny little reminder sends cold skittering through you, so you wrench your focus back to the guy and his magic. You wonder if it’s as warm as it looks. It looks like it’d heat you up from the outside-in.

That sounds amazing right now.

“Who’s that?” you say, transfixed. There’s an eager breathiness in your voice.

“What?” Izzy says, tapping the side of her head.

“Who is that?” you shout in Izzy’s ear, loud enough to be heard over the music. You gesture towards the sofa with your chin.

“He’s a friend of one of the birds, I think,” she says dismissively, “can’t remember his name right now.”

“He’s hot as fuck. Please tell me he’s single. It’ll ruin my whole year and the next ones if he’s not.”

She cackles. Her laughter takes up her whole face, splitting it down the middle like an axe wound to the head. You have the urge to shove your finger into her open mouth, but she probably won’t find it funny. She’d probably bite you, actually, with her sharp little teeth, and the Tylenol and antibiotics you’d get as a result are hardly worth the hospital trip. Now, if she took off your whole finger, you’d get oxycodone or hydromorphone at the very least, but they probably wouldn’t mix well with the rest of the pharmacy’s worth of drugs in your bloodstream.

And you’d also miss midnight. You can’t have that.

“You’re so funny, bunny,” Izzy giggles at you. She throws her arm around you and tugs you to her side. “I love you soooo much.”

You hug her back, pressing your face into the cool hollow of her neck. You choke on your muffled laughter. The hug feels really nice. “Love you too.”

You do, in this moment. You’re full of enough love that you’re afraid it’s all going to spill out of you, tear through your skin and flood the entire apartment. You love love. So much. Feels so good.

Izzy pulls back from the hug, then brings her own glass to your lips. You drink greedily. She doesn’t pull it away until you’ve drained the whole thing.

“Pretty sure he’s single, so go ring in the New Year the right way,” she says, pulling you from the countertop and giving you a friendly smack on the ass to spur you on.

Not that you need a lot of encouragement. You fix your sexiest smile to your face and do your best impression of a lingerie model’s saunter down the runway as you stride towards him, snagging a pair of shot glasses as you go.

…

Opening your eyes is a fucking ordeal.

The ceiling of Izzy’s darkened guest bedroom greets your dry, crusty vision. The fan on the ceiling spins in slow, lazy rotations, sending cool wafts of air over your bare body.

Your muscles ache, in a good way, as you pull yourself up into a sitting position, your legs stretched out in front of you. You look down at your chest and find it decorated with several pretty red marks and the memory of receiving them sends remembered pleasure shivering through you. You knew that the guy would be a great fuck; maybe you’ve just got a sixth sense for shit like this.

Speaking of the guy, he’s still asleep. Ha, you must’ve worn him out, just like he did to you. He’s lying on his back, skull turned to the side, so his face is half buried into the pillow. The sheets are kicked messily around his feet.

You watch the way his ribcage expands and contracts with his breathing. So strange, breathing with no lungs. What purpose does it serve? Does he have to do it, the way you do?

You imagine, for a moment, your own lungs, wet and pulpy and probably black with tar and pockmarked with holes, imagine them filling and deflating with air. You hold your breath until your vision goes fuzzy just to feel the way they strain against the confines of your chest. The burn reminds you that there’s something inside of you. Something warm and real.

You look back at your bedpartner, at all of that empty space inside of him. You wonder if he feels the hole as part of himself, if he walks and talks and eats and fucks, all the while perceiving that absence. You wonder if he feels like you do sometimes, like a discarded orange rind, all of your insides scooped out until just the smooth outside remains.

Something prickles at your eyes. You feel dizzy. A little sick.

You exhale in a deep, desperate rush, suddenly remembering that you have to breath. You take a few ragged inhales, deep ones, to make up for the oxygen you’d been deprived of.

Your chest hurts. Your head hurts, too, a dull throb. Either you’ve just accidently almost asphyxiated yourself, or it’s time for a top-up. The ecstasy’s probably worn off by now; that’s probably why you’re feeling this way. Yeah, that’s it. The comedown always sucks.

You have no other reason to be sad, after all. You sit here, freshly fucked, muscles aching pleasantly. The party downstairs still beats on, a riotous chorus of early two thousands throwback music and laughter. You can feel the thrum of the base in your blood. The world is alive around you. Revel in that. Be happy for that. This is your life. You chose it. You made it this way. You have to live it, now.

Yep, definitely time for a top-up. Izzy owes you; you can scum a little extra off of her. You don’t remember why she owes you, exactly, but a favour’s a favour. S’not like you to look a gift horse in the mouth. Take the goodness as it comes and let go of the bad. Breath in again. Breath out. Keep reminding yourself to do it, so you don’t forget.

You fumble underneath the pillows and retrieve your phone. The cracked screen reads 12:36am. You have a dozen unread messages, drunken New Years well-wishes from names you can’t put a face to.

Your mom and dad used to always stay up late on New Years Eve, drinking port wine and watching Christmas movies until they’d fall asleep on the couch together. It was their tradition. As a kid, you begged them to let you stay up with them, but you always fell asleep before the clock struck midnight and you’d wake up on January first in your bedroom, your dad having carried you to bed.

Every year, your New Years resolution was to stay awake next time long enough to watch the clock tick over to midnight. There was something magical about it as a child, the idea of peeling away the old paint of the past year to reveal the shiny, fresh surface of the new.

You wonder if your parents are awake now, watching the end of the Polar Express and drinking out of those funny little port glasses.

Your bedpartner stirs, murmuring sleepily into his pillow. He’s drooling. It’s cute. You get the feeling, from the way that he’d fucked you, that he’s not the kinda guy who appreciate being called that, though.

Those type of guys are always the cutest.

If he’d woken up, you would’ve told him that, but he doesn’t. He just settles back into the pillow. You do throw the blanket over his naked pelvis, though, because you’re considerate like that. Nice girl. Sweet girl. Bunny. Everyone likes you. You’re so much fun. And you’re having fun. Buckets of it. Enough to drown in it.

You slide your bare feet onto the cold floor and begin the search for your shoes. Happy New Year to me.

[spoiltizzy]

what if izzy was a little fairy but fairies just casually exist in this universe and they’re lowkey seen as pests like mice. and stede and ed catch him by leaving more and more fattening foods out until eventually izzy is so heavy (from the combination of being fat now and so full) that he can’t fly. and they just scoop him up. he is very frustrated at the indignity. but then again he didn’t need to eat so much. he was being greedy.

[voxxous]

Love Shall Sail as a Ship at Sea

Words: ~1,100

Warnings: Stabbing/Injuries/Blood, Minor Character Death, Swearing/Language, little angsty, Captured, unedited clip

Relationships: Izzy x AFAB Reader

M/M, Israel Hands/Reader, Izzy/Reader, AFAB Reader, mentions of Stede/Ed

A/N - this is just a draft for an izzy x reader that id like to polish up and post on ao3. enjoy!

<3

“Let it go, Iz.” You barked under your breath. “Leave them be. He's not the Blackbeard you used to know, okay?” You pinned his shoulders to the mast before he interrupted the two lovers, Ed and Steede, that, for whatever reason, Hands loathed with every breath in his body.

“He needs to stop fooling around with fucking Bonnet. If Blackbeard refuses to do the job, I will,” he huffed, struggling under your grip. His blaring gaze met yours. “Now, dog,” he seethed, “…release me, or meet the end of my sword.”

Heat bled into your skull. Reluctantly, you obliged. Izzy's deriding scowl teased you to speak up, but the strain in your eyes forced you to retreat and confide to your quarters. Fuck all if the first mate caught sight of your tears. A flash of weakness and the crew would toss you in the sea, food for the fish.

Since when did you give a flying fuck about his words? He was always a cold-hearted bastard, shit-talking all of the crew mates. His judgment meant nothing.

Which, you knew, was utter bullshit. Hands’ approval prompted nearly every action of yours. You itched for his praise, his acceptance. Secretly, you hoped you were his favorite mate. You often kicked your legs after a day of him not brutally berating you.

You cared, but did he reciprocate that feeling?

The beating of your heart skyrocketed instantaneously. Your breathing heaved more than the boat itself. A brewery of dizziness and worry plagued your mind, nearly toppling you over, dead center of the halls. Thankfully, instead of being sent to the floor, you only scathed your head on the gritty, filthy walls.

After reaching your door, your spine met the chilly, moist wooden doorway. Your weight plummeted to the grimy floorboards, your head stung like a bitch, your brain melted into the planks behind you, and you did jack shit about it.

Footsteps slithered outside of your doorway. The creek of the hinges signified the exposure of your fragility. You could only hope for your life that it wasn’t Hands.

“How do you expect to stay with the crew if you are rendered useless from a measly little threat, you pest?”

Your fucking luck. Staying silent was your best option. One emotionally charged word from your mouth and you’d be the spewer. “Get up.”

You peeled yourself from the floor. Dirt, grub, and dust clung to your sweaty skin and tear-stained face. You could tell from Izzy’s changing expression that the little breakdown was painted on your face. His scowl folded into confusion. His eyebrows furrowed a bit.

“Is that…?” He brought his gloveless hand to one of your temples and examined the fresh wound, gently cupping your cheek. “Are you alright?”

You scoffed, refusing to look at his face any longer. It’s funny, he almost seemed concerned.

“Like it matters. Sod off,” you recoiled from his touch and ignored the prick. As you approached your bed, his hand grasped your shoulder.

“That needs to be tended to. What if it gets infected—“

“I said fuck off, asshole,” you muttered. “Since when do you care.” His gentle touch left your arm. He remained silent. Curiosity getting the better of you, you spun around to face him. His shoulders slumped, and he interlocked his hands with yours.

“Just,” he paused and sighed, “…sit down.”

He guided you to your bed, quietly ushering himself out of the room. Shortly, he returned with some alcohol, bandage tape, and a rag in hand.

He pet your wound with care, painting your temple with the damp cloth. Once he’d tended to your injury, the tension released from within you. Izzy set the assorted items aside and found himself a place on your bed.

“Try not to be so careless next time.”

“You know, an apology wouldn’t hurt.”

“I don’t mean to be so harsh. I say things without much thought, and I’ll watch my words.” He rested his head on top if yours. “Okay? You’re not useless, and you’re not a dog.”

That moment marked the beginning of pampering and shining affection from Mr.Hands, first mate Hands, the seemingly heartless man who accompanied the most badass captain in pirate history.

That very idiot loved you more than the sun loved the moon, more than the stars loved the sky, and now you were certain you’d never see him again.

The chains that shackled you to the wall burnt the frail skin around your wrists, exposing your raw flesh to the dust-littered air and the rusty ass metal that imprisoned it.

A pathetic bundle of bandits took advantage of your vulnerablility in your sleep and ditched you under the deck. They fed you moldy bread and mucky water. Only a few days passed and you already wanted to mutilate the bastards.

A rampage of thuds and shouts erupted from the deck above you. Hollars, bustling feet, and then silence. Putting the pieces together, you understood that another pirate boarded the ship and mercilessly butchered on the crew. Serves them right. Creaks lingered outside of your chambers, approaching with haste. Now you’d join their fate. You struggled, attempted to shake the chains loose; but alas, you could only sit and accept your death.

“Y/N?”

Bliss encompassed your heart. That voice was unmistakable.

“Izzy?”

He burst through the door. Sweat, grime, and blood stained his clothes and tears stained his cheeks. “Gods, you’re alive.” He rushed over to you, unlocking your chains.

“Izzy, I-“

His arms wrapped around you. With his head buried in the crook of your neck, his breath tickled your skin as he whispered.

“I won’t ever let you out of my sight again. They can’t hurt you now, okay darling?” Sniffling, you nodded. “Don’t you worry, I’m right here,” he purred.

“I thought I’d never see you again,” you choked out, “and I couldn’t stand it.”

“I would never allow that.” He released you, pulling back to look you in the eyes. “I missed you more than anything, love.” His gentle touch brushed stray hairs out of your face and he placed a kiss on your forehead.

Once you reclaimed your belongings, namely your weapons, you creeped back up the stairs to reunite with Iz, who gifted you a moment to recollect yourself. As you emerged from beneath the boards, the alterity of the air struck the hairs of your neck.

“Well, if it isn’t the First Mate, Hands,” the unknown figure declared. He must’ve hidden whilst Izzy slaughtered his crew. You slithered up behind him and lurked over his shoulder. “How would you feel if I handed you the same wrath you gave to my men?”

Within a breath, you sheathed your knife, slipped him into a chokehold, and slit a fissure in the fucker’s throat.

“Threaten him again and die,” you hissed through gritted teeth.

He choked under your hands, “He deserves to burn.”

You drove your blade through his throat, immediately severing the tangle of tubes inside him. Blood sputtered and spat as he plunged to the ground.

A speechless, beet-red Izzy stood, baffled, but also a tad flustered.

“Iz, are you alright? Did he hurt you?” You stammered, darting over to examine him. He took a moment to process.

“He did nothing, love, not to worry,” he murmured, caressing your hands with his. “Let’s get you back to the ship.”

[whats-mine-is-hers]

Hiya there! Do you...are we... going to be blessed with the other versions of Izzy pestering more people? Thank you!!

Oh, most definitely. Here's a quick one w/ Frenchie for a start. (Ty for asking!! ^^)

[phoenixduelist]

@pyratezlife

Pest dutifully sat at the tiny desk of the sickbay every night, not even showing the slightest signs of discomfort despite his age. He was usually buried in his notebook, always finding something to correct in the dim candlelight. The faint noise coming from the injured man startled him near straight into afterlife; it was Viola who sewn the rupture of the organ, how did something- It took a while to register that he was actually speaking in his sleep, not dying.

A weary hand dragged down the doctor's face as he listened...and his heart broke at the realization. His son would've been around the same age as Izzy, if not for the war. If not for- He couldn't be there for him long enough. But the swordsman survived against all odds. Pest shook Márta awake to take over the watch for a few minutes while he has a brief conversation with Rozália. Knowing that poor child, she was definitely still awake.

In the morning Vitéz was already near the door, a little anxious but who was he to not rise to the call?

“Hope you're feeling a little better than before” he started casually, not quite sure how to approach the subject just yet “Pest said you can now eat lighter meals, do you have a favorite Béla can make for you Mr Hands- may I call you Izzy?” He sat down the other bed, the space enough to hopefully not spook the injured man

“Thought you might be lonely with Pest only understanding English” said doctor waved good morning with a happy smile “and the Captain running around like a headless chicken nowadays.” the small smile emphasized the lines of his face, blond hair glinting with plenty of silver in the sunlight from the small window “I'm Vitéz. I was in the army, just like many others here”

[totally-not-my-drama]

Ever after high AU info dump

Well with 39,1% the Ever after high au won the poll. It shouldn't surprise me as much as it did honestly.

While it's already a bit further than it's last concept it's not even close to being done, mainly due to me concentrating on other AUs. But to fill enough space and give you alot knowledge I give you an entire run down of what me and my friend, @ccaramel-candy have so far! I'm not exactly good with explaining what I want to say/ what ideas I have but I try my best.

Warning stuff:

One thing I want to get out of the bat is that the fairytales changed to make it more comfortable and less confusing. And so that everyone gets it and I don't get any complains: This is purely a Noco story. If you don't like the ship pls carry on!

Now with that out of the way let's get started:

description:

This Au plays like ever after high in a school for fairy tale children. But instead of following Snow whites daughter, we follow this Aus Sleeping beauty's child Noelle (Noah in this AU is Trans ftm and is refereed at the beginning as Noelle (She/ her) and later into the Story as Noah (He/ Him). Just so you don't get confused) and how she handles school in general. Sounds easy but it isn't when everytime someone annoys you with something, be it your potential future prince charming, your roommate who has yet another problem or the school erupts into chaos because someone is making a problem. And all Noelle wants is being left alone to read. And the school year has just started!!!

General Info:

-The main character here is Noah and Cody as sleeping beauty and their prince charming (So it's a Noco focused story)

-Pretty much everyone is from Total drama or has a connection to Total drama (like OCs) Tho there are still some thoughts and planning to be made

-While everyone has their own rooms and roommates in their dorms the rules that are binded to it are a bit.... well they aren't clear to anyone in school.

-the school has somewhat a mind of it's own. It's not clear however if someone used magic on it or if it was always "alive".

-while the conflict between royals and rebels was clearer in the original ever after high, it only starts to get a real story point later on in this AU. But the conflict does start at the beginning already but more of a sub plot!

-Fairytales are definetly rewritten from their original source material for various reasons, but there are also changes due to other characters actions!

Character Roles:

There aren't many yet which might be because I don't think of this AU as much as I should to give everyone a proper fairytale role but this is who I have so far:

Sleeping Beauty = Noelle/Noah

Prince charming = Cody

Belle = Edith (<- my OC)

Beast = Ezekiel

Cinderella = Mimi (<- @ccaramel-candy OC)

Red Riding Hood = Mike + his System

Evil Queen = Heather

Mad Hatter = Izzy

Littl Mermaid = Birdgette

Big bad wolf = Scott

Relationships:

The relationships with each other hopefully will be a big plotpoint how I intend to have it. This could also be confusing in some areas which either cause lack of context/ not much context or because I try to over explain this but I try my best!

Noelle:

While Noelle is the main protagonist, there aren't currently many relationships other than a few people. Not because I have no idea but because she wants to be left alone and read her books. However there are definetly 2 main people that are consistent:

-Cody the more overconfident prince charming, already setting his eyes on noelle as his destiny. He tries to get her to know her more so that later on their destiny doesn't come off as weird when cody has to kiss her awake.

-and Edith who is her current roommate, who brings a few problems pests pets to the table. Not exactly a thing allowed in school or the dorms but Noelle keeps quiet for her mainly cause it doesn't concern her (and a few petting sessions from time to time are actually nice).

Then there are also some minor ones, like Izzy who just wants her to join the crazy tea party's. Mike or rather specific Svetlana who drops by every 2 weeks to ask for a lipgloss both her and Edith share (Noelle is still confused why). Mimi also hangsout sometimes but more when Edith is with her. Then there is Owen. Defiantly somewhat friends but interact more in cooking class than exactly outside.

(I don't want to make this post all too long so I keep the relationship mainly to Noelle for now! I might make a seperate post for the rest I have)

Well that is all I have so far for this AU. I might plan a few things now that it is on my mind again but I hope you liked my ramble. See ya!

[alexanderlightweight]

Howdy, hope your week has been kind.

A Wednesday prompt: Alec's first birthday since he and Magnus got together. Preferably not super focused on immortality (angst or not)

Thanks! 💛

angst with a happy ending! no immortality angst because obviously Alec is going to be immortal at some point. i only write immortal husbands, though how they get Alec immortal can sometimes be left open to interpretation.

thank you! it has been a busy week with a couple unexpected dust storms that kicked allergies off and my asthma into gear so i spent like 18 hours yesterday in that 'i am medicated and semi-aware of the world but not really' stage and snapped out of it mostly in time to write today so i'm happy! i hope you are having a good week!

<3 lumine

-

Alec sighs in relief as he finally gets to the loft and when he enters, he hisses as the scent and presence of other nephilim and people hit him.

Magnus is standing there, splendid and magnificent and with a soft smile on his face… and he’s surrounded by Alec’s family and more shadowhunters and warlocks and even Maia.

“Nope.” Is all Alec says and he turns and walks out of the room, leaving to go for the rooftop stairs that had better still be warded to keep out pests. Because Alec is not in the mood for a party, surprise or otherwise and if anyone thinks he’s going to give in, they have another thing coming to them.

“Alec!” Izzy calls behind him, running to catch up and her strong, elegant and painted fingers catch on his elbow. “Hermano, it’s your birthday. Come on, we’re all here to celebrate.”

“And yet, I don’t want to.” Is all Alec says and he pushes her hand off and steps into the staircase, pleased when the door seals behind him.

He shrugs off his weapons as he climbs and leaves his boots and jacket on the bench near the roof door. He’s not sure what’s going on below, but he doesn’t care.

Alec’s made it clear that he doesn’t want a party, that he wanted to spend his first birthday with Magnus just the two of them. Especially when this week has been one exhaustion after the other and yet apparently, once again everyone else’s opinion matters more than his.

“Alexander—” Magnus says, when he opens the roof door less than ten minutes later.

“Are they gone?” Alec asks, interrupting him coolly and refusing to turn to look at Magnus.

“Yes, of course darling. If I’d realized how much you’d dislike it, I wouldn’t have listened to Izzy and Jace.”

“So why did you?” Alec bites out, because he can’t help himself. “I told you what I wanted and what I didn’t want, Magnus. So why did you even bother asking me if you were just going to ignore me? Why are Izzy and Jace’s opinions more important than my own? Especially when it comes to me?” Alec scoffs, “Izzy told me I owed it to myself and you to have a party the other day. I laughed at her, because you and I had already agreed to just take a day to ourselves. Now I realize it was her way of telling me to buck up and accept it, to just deal with the party.”

“Alec,” Magnus offers, and Alec just sighs and steps further into the garden and away from Magnus.

“I’m guessing the plans we actually made got canceled?” He asks and he can’t help that he’s being so terse. This is the first birthday he’s actually been looking forward to for ages and it’s once again ruined by his family.  The same way it is every year.

“Darling, I’m so sorry. I didn’t even consider how it might feel for you, Isabelle and Jace were so sure this would be what you wanted.”

“So, you cancelled them. Because Izzy convinced you she knew best. Which I don’t understand how she managed that, because you know how I feel about her ignoring what I want.”

“I know how much you love your family.” Magnus says, almost helplessly and Alec is getting really sick of his love for people being the reason why nothing he says matters.

“So? What does loving them have to do with always have to be punished for that love? I can’t have anything I enjoy? I don’t get to make choices? It’s all picked for me based on that love.” Alec sighs, “I was looking forward to tonight, for once. Now I just want to sleep and hope this day never comes again, the same way I’ve felt the last decade and a half.”

Magnus makes an involuntary noise and Alec ignores it, “I wanted to have this day, just with you. So I could enjoy it for once and now—” Alec sighs. “I think I’m going to take a walk, Magnus. I’ll be back later.”

Arms wrap around his waist before he can even think of heading to the edge of the roof and jumping off and then Alec is being bodily picked up and tossed through a portal.

“Magnus!” He yelps as he lands in sand, because this isn’t something he expected from his boyfriend. Magnus is normally great about giving him space when needed, a little too great sometimes.

“Yes, yes. You need to take a walk.” Magnus tells him, utterly sincere and his golden eyes calm and patient and filled with remorse. “This Isle is uncharted and undocumented to all but a few in the Spiral Labryinth, you can walk as much as you want for as far as you want. Around the whole Isle if you need to, there are no demons here to watch out for.” Magnus reaches out and then lets his hands fall with a soft, sad sigh.

“I got too swept up in the idea of showing you off, of proving how well we’re working together. Despite what we’ve talked about, it never occurred to me that Isabelle would be so inconsiderate as to…” Magnus pauses and sighs, “ah. In hindsight, that is something I should have realized sooner. I suppose I let my own hubris get to me, Alexander. Which isn’t an excuse, but I am sorry beloved. I never meant to corner you, especially not in our home.”

“Is it?” Alec asks quietly, because Magnus has never said or offered and Alec isn’t brave enough to go for it, not yet.

“Is it what?”

“Our home?”

“Of course, sayang.” And Magnus looks heartbroken, “have I never told you?” He asks, as if it’s unimaginable and when Alec shakes his head, Magnus reaches up his hands before he pauses. Unwilling to touch without permission when Alec is this upset.

Alec leans into the hold and sighs as Magnus’ warm hands cup his face and then he’s pulled so that they can both press their foreheads against each other.

“Walk with me?” Alec whispers, “I can’t talk. Not yet, but you can. If you want. Tell me about the plants and animals here? What kind of experiments you’ve done? Something just us, please?”

“Oh, darling. The stories I’m about to tell you.” Magnus promises him gently and his eyes crinkle like little gold moons when Alec takes Magnus’ hand.

This isn’t how he wanted it.

But this is what he wanted.

Magnus and he without any pressure of the future, just enjoying each other and learning more… after all.

It’s still new.

-

gonna be real, i get uncomfortable in the fics where izzy and jace pressure alec to do things he doesn't want to do and then he does them and meets magnus or makes magnus happy and alec's like 'wow yes i'm so glad my boundaries were ignored and my opinion mocked and it was totally worth being made intensely uncomfortable because i met magnus'.

and like, mood to meeting magnus but not mood to 'hey we know better than you because you're an introvert and a repressed queer so you need to listen to us because we know best' because i've had that vibe directed at me and it's so gross. and it's used in canon show too and never called out as manipulative and ick.

sorry to ramble on a fic fill and i don't think people should stop writing fics like that if they want them, i just tend to avoid them especially because it's a canon show trait that i hate and write out of my fics.

[dragonmuse]

I’m rereading the main series to fight the SADD and get the tone on my festival entry right, and I found myself thinking about Eddy dreaming of the Kraken taking Lucius in The Kid is Alright. Beyond the obvious reference to the actual show 😃 I wondered how much of that is her subconsciously worrying about him getting hurt by Izzy, and how much is about him getting hurt by her, because of jealousy over Izzy! (If you wanted to throw in a snippet of Lucius and Eddy interacting, I also wouldn’t protest!) 🤭

(I also feel the winter coming on, I feel you. This one is kind of piecemeal, but I think it gets to the root of it)

Usually when the dream came, it stuck to Eddy for a few days like gum on the bottom of her shoe. Not an injury, just the sticky, constant knowledge of it, making everything just one degree more difficult, one degree less enjoyable. A bad taste in the back of her throat.

Every time she saw Lucius, the taste was there. He seemed not to notice, going about his business, clearly pleased with his current lot in life. She tried not to seek him out in the dark, not to check that he was fine. 

Lucius was a pest and a damningly insightful one at that, but Eddy had grown to like him as much as anyone at the bar, partially because he was so inclined to poke at her. In her old life, there hadn’t been anyone left that wanted to even try to tease her. Oh, Izzy might’ve insulted her and been an outright asshole sometimes for his own ends, but he wouldn’t tease. None of the other guys would’ve dreamed of disrespecting ‘boss’’ like that. 

Yet, Lucius, who had seem to have their number right front the start, had no such qualms. He prodded, teased and basically pulled her pigtails, then would skitter a few steps back like a puppy, waiting for another dog to jump on him and continue the game. 

More and more, Eddy found herself taking the bait. She liked the verbal sparring and the general low stakes assholery that Lucius brought into her life. 

But he was playing with fire now. He’d gone to a place Eddy had never ventured, stepping into Izzy’s lair. No one knew better than Eddy how dangerous the man could be when he was crossed. 

Was that why she’d seen him screaming and devoured? Eaten by the beast and dragged to the depths? 

“Do I have something on my face?” Lucius raised his eyebrows as he set a drink in front of her. 

“Just the usual shit,” Eddy said vaguely, plucking up the glass and taking a sip. It was the new stout on tap, a creamy chocolatey note in it that she liked. “Thanks.” 

“You ordered it, figured you’d like it,” he shrugged. “Want to tell me why you’re tracking me like my head is gonna explode?” 

She took another sip. 

‘No?” He rolled his eyes. “Eddy, come on, what the fuck? Is this because of the Izzy stuff?” 

“No!” She blurted then winced. Fuck, she had really lost some of her edge. 

“Uh huh.” 

“You won’t like it.” 

“Probably not. Tell me anyway.” 

“Ugh,” she pressed the glass into her palms.  “I’m...worried. Like genuinely worried. He’s not a safe person.” 

“Yeah, I got that, actually,” Lucius planted his elbows on the bar in front of them, resting his chin in his palms. “Part of the appeal, if I’m honest.” 

“But-” 

“I think he’s more dangerous to himself right now for one thing,” Lucius considered. “And I’m not you.” 

“What do you mean?” She frowned.  

“I mean you two have a lot of history and pain between you. I just met him. He can be new with me. You know how that is.” 

“Yeah,” she said roughly. “But...” 

“I know he’s hurt you personally.” Lucius sighed. “Probably a lot. That’s real. It’s real that he might hurt me too.” 

“You don’t really think so.” 

“Of course I do,” it was said calmly, just a given fact. “But so could a lot of the randos I hook up with. People, even ones without violent jobs, can hurt us.” 

Eddy saw tentacles, waving up and dragging down. “Bleak.” 

“Just real.” 

“I reserve the right to worry about you,” she decided, taking another sip of beer.

“Do you now?” He smirked. “Guess I can’t stop you.” 

That seemed close enough to permission. Eddy went on watching him, monitoring for changes. Lucius went on being Lucius. He caught her staring again, winked and went on flirting and half-assing his job behind the bar. 

“What is it, honey?” Stede frowned, following her eyes one night. They were all at the tables after closing, passing around the cloth samples Stede had brought for potential new napkins for the tables. 

“Just checking.” 

“For what?” 

“That’s he’s all right.” 

“Oh! That’s sweet of you,” Stede said uncertainly. “But it looks like you might be trying to assassinate him with the power of your mind.” 

“Nope.” 

“You think maybe there might be something else?” 

Eddy shook her head and looked back down into the cloth in her hand. She had crumbled it up in her palm, holding it white-knuckled. 

“...maybe a little,” she conceded. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” 

The gum stuck to the floor. Came loose. Made a horrible sound. 

“I really do not.” 

“All right then.” 

What was there to say? He wasn’t hers anymore. She’d cut him loose. It had been one of the best decisions she’d ever made.  

No apologies. No regrets. 

Lucius threw back his head and laughed. Carefully, she smoothed the cloth back out and turned her attention to Stede. 

“Tell me about the cotton percentages again, my love.” 

“The one you have is actually 100% cotton! Very finely made, but for some reason less absorbent,” Stede began and she sunk into his words and let them soothe her fiery brain. 

If she ever got a taste for danger again, she’d only have to watch Stede enthuse about one of his passions. He lit up, his hands flung around, a dance of excitement and she could lose herself in that joy so easily. It was the beautiful kind of contagious.