#israel hands x reader

[bowieandqueen11]

Love For You / Izzy Hands Imagine

Request: I just found your ao3 account a few days ago and your writing style is excellent! Legitimately some of the most visual and evocative writing I've seen on that website, and I've been devouring your izzy hands fics since I caught up on season two! Can I request another izzy x reader post-amputation and just the reader caring for him while he's pining hard? Maybe the reader has some medical experience so they've been able to help him a little better than the rest of the crew, making sure he's taking time to heal in a difficult moment (physically as well as emotionally, god knows he needs that.) Letting him know he's loved and him realizing he hasn't...heard someone say that to him or treat him this gently in a long time

Thank you so much that's so kind of you to say, it's so lovely people finding me from AO3!! Honestly one of the best feelings, and goodness knows Izzy needs this :)

Okay so I haven't been able to watch the new season so all my knowledge is coming from Tumblr gifs and posts, so I really hope this isn't too ooc my lovely!! Anyway let's get this man some comfort!

I spent all day writing this, so all comments are much appreciated! Thank you! :)

Warning: mentions of blood/injury, mentions of physical abuse, mention of smoking, kissing and some strong language!

(I do not own OFMD or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @goodsirs.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

Something monstrous seemed to be creeping up the shuddering walls.

No, it wasn't the stifling silence that had seemed to envelop those of Blackbeard's crew still left, hiding their heads between their legs and closing their eyes as they felt the quicksand drain out through the fingers. Nor was it the creaking organ snore of Wee John thrumming up the timber; the rest of your usually upbeat crew grew despondent as they wracked their brains together and came up with a way to save you all from imminent demise, having flopped onto their sides and fallen into fitful sleeps just before sunset. Sadly it wasn't even the feel of Lucius' finger stroking yours through the cold grates of your jail, his smile lost and forlorn as he thumped his head back against the wall and closed his eyes as well, feeling even more entrapped in himself than you did.

It was, in fact, the hard glare Izzy Hands was shooting into the side of your face. He hadn't spoken a word since Stede had left, choosing instead to let out the odd sniffle from his corner bucket and busy himself by watching you like a man possessed: like something wild, something smothering itself in the shadows to stop its howling heart from devouring the light around itself. From tearing his dagger out of his scabbard and devouring his heart himself with clawed hooks. He looked ghastly, and he looked gargantuan as the life seemed to convulse within him, leeching out and darting its tongue around the creaking wood until it filled up the room and began to fill your heart up with a hope you thought had been lost weeks ago.

He looked beautiful and proud and defeated and assured in spite of it all, and you were finally beginning to understand why Zheng Yi Sao had locked him away in this cage.

And in a way, it terrified you that this cataclysmic, lucent shadow was creeping its merry way straight for you.

The tenebrosity was quickly broken by Izzy's shining eyes gliding across the bridge of your nose to land instead on your top lip. He wasn't entirely sure why exactly he was feeling so timid. It wasn't as if Frenchie was still awake, as he was too busy hugging his free arm around the remaining muscle of Izzy's thigh and burying his head into the muscle with a soft murmur of contentment. Yet the idea of being caught leering at you like a dopey boy was enough to make him judder with embarrassment, and enough to send Frenchie's head keeling sideways so his lips were rammed up against his trousers.

Thankfully, it was exactly Frenchie's floppy head that gave away the fact that he was fast asleep, and allowed you to steal Izzy away for yourself. With a gentle lift, you were quick to replace your friend's cheek with your own hand, giving the side of Izzy's thigh a reassuring squeeze.

'You look like you're bearing the weight of the world on your shoulders', you sighed as you took in Izzy's harrowing form. It wasn't his paleness that worried you, or the redness that cracked and splintered around his irises. It was the way he was watching you, eyes trained steadily on your face for the last hour and a half, as if he were doing his best to memorise everything he could before he ran out of time. As if he would never have the chance to look at you again.

The edges of his lips curled up, and he thumped his head back against the wall. 'Me? I'm feeling fucking fantastic. Never been better. Why do you ask?'

'Well', you began as softly as you could, straining to reach the vials in your hip knapsack to retrieve some salve for the scarring that had begun to pucker around his skin. 'We are about to be executed. I guess I just wanted you to know this is a safe space to let it all out before we are. A confessional of sorts, if a little makeshift.'

He wet his bottom lip as his eyes darted down to you, confused.

You pointedly looked him in the eyes, before unscrewing the vial and dipping your pointer finger in. Making sure he didn't seem too uncomfortable, you leant forwards as innocuously as you could, trying not to startle him anymore than he already had been. With a swipe, you began to rub the herb mixture around the sore looking welts left around his cut leg, making a point to run your fingertips soothingly over the goose-bumps that began to rise at the feel of you against him.

'I wanted you to know- to know that you're always safe around your crew.' You did your best not to let your voice tremble, no matter how much your throat tried to choke you. You turned your head back down to his leg, trying to hide the fact that your mouth was crumpling in on itself.

He winced as your hand brushed against a tender point, and you ran the back of your knuckles over his skin in apology. He felt like he was burning alive: a fire blazing so furiously in the pit of his stomach he was sure it was gushing out, swinging around the room and warning everyone of his impending falter as he fell upon the crags of your fingers below. He had no idea how, in all the seas, you couldn't possibly see how ecstatically devastated he was to be sitting here with you.

He didn't mind dying. He wasn't scared of it. As long as you were there to enhalo his misty light in the end. As long as you were there to love him until his last breath. As long as, no matter what form he took, you were still enclosed around his heart.

'Who says I have anything to confess?', he glanced at you with heavy eyelashes, eyes bleary but sharp as he started straight into your soul. I don't have to confess it, he thought, it's so fucking painfully obvious.

How could he confess something so inexplicable? Something that wrapped around all of his bones, that wormed its way into parts of himself he thought long numb: long lost. How could someone ever articulate the feeling of life itself? It was insurmountable, far too transcendent, too impetuous for mortals to to unsnarl into words.

'Oh Izzy', you said, mouth falling into a frown at the way his hips reflexively bucked up at the feel of a new cream being slathered around his leg to try and numb the pain. He moaned, trying to mask the sound by clenching his fist into his mouth and biting desperately into his knuckles. One more touch, and he was about to fall apart. 'Your eyes are drowning in so many regrets I can barely see the stars in them anymore.'

He huffed out a laugh, looking at you with incredulous, wild eyes. He willed his hand to stop shaking as he let it rest, still clenched, by his quivering chin. 'Not in my eyes. You never could. That's not possible. Not me.'

'I could.' You were quick to reply. 'I always could. You're our guiding light, Israel Hands.'

Oh boy, if he wasn't devastated before he sure was now. His face fell immediately, and for a moment you felt your heart ache with a sore regret at the silvery tears that began to cloud in the crinkles of his eyes. But then he does something that surprised even you.

The way he opened his legs up was almost miniscule: too small for anyone who didn't know this man's quirks and intricacies and giveaways to notice, but a well aimed shot that sent a rush of heat prickling up your cheeks. Before he changed his mind and retreated into himself again, you were quick to scoot your backside over and come to rest far too intimately between the tightening leather of his inner thighs.

'You can't be surprised that we care about you', he started after a moment of comfortable silence, leaning the side of your head to rest gingerly on his intact leg. 'That the whole crew has always cared about you. Look, someone even got you a mop-', you gestured to his side, trying to make him laugh before the sun rises, and thankfully you succeeded.

He shook his head out as if trying to refocus himself as his chuckle died out in his chest. He didn't want to laugh right now. He wanted to focus on the weight on his leg: on the feel of your nose brushing on the length of seam running up to his groin. He blinked back heavy tears that spread along his lashes, sniffling coarsely. He probably should laugh, he thought. He should be fucking howling, spitting, going rabid at the irony that the one thing he had been yearning his whole life was lying right there on his lap, and he only had a few hours left in his pathetic life to savour it.

'How are you doing, by the way? Seriously', you jolt your head up to watch him quizzically. He did his best not to meet your eye, choosing instead to stare at the black grains above Jim's slumped head. 'After, you know, everything that happened with Ed-'

'You don't need to worry about me', he sniffed, but his hand twitched as he lifted it up to rest on his thigh, just above the top of your head. 'It's my job to worry about all of you. Not the other way round.'

'When are you going to get it through your thick skull that we want to worry about you. This isn't some kind of weird mandate or self-preservation tactic on our part Izzy. You may be a fucking idiot, but you're our fucking idiot. Let us take care of you too, like you've been looking out for us.'

He squeezed his eyes shut, his head beginning to shake furiously enough to send his stray silver locks clambering over his eyes. He was glad for their cover, so he wouldn't have to see the way you had lurched forward: the way you were pleading with him with your eyes, as you rose onto your knees and pressed your hands firmly around his waist, just where the joint of his legs met the soft squish of his tummy.

'Don't you shake your head at me. We all know you've been trying to direct Blackbeard's anger your way. We do!' You cocked your head, trying to follow his face as he squirmed in your grasp. Losing your patience, you gripped his jaw with your thumb and pointer finger, directing Izzy's widening eyes back your way. 'We do, Izzy. We know what you've been doing for us. What you've been sacrificing. And I'm sorry - I'm sorry that none of this is fair. I'm sorry that any of this happened at all.'

One. Two. You tapped your finger a third time, your fingernail swirling over the fine nuances of the holster running over his sawed leg.

It had always been your little secret: a shared confidence, between you and Izzy. One tap. Two. Three on each other's arms after battles, three taps there on your shoulder before you went down to your bunk, three fleeting touches burning at the back of his spine to let him know that you were alright: to let him know that he was alright.

You only stopped when you heard a brisk inhale: a sharp whistle that broke through your indulgent repose and made Roach roll over. Thankfully, a moment later, the cook's arm was splayed out across the floor again, and his leg kicked out backwards with a swift jolt up poor Button's behind. Izzy, though. Izzy, despite the surprising tenderness of the moment, was almost smouldering. The muscle by the side of his femur began to writhe underneath just the point of your fingertip, the feeling of just your warmth making him feel too feeble. Too needy to even control the rest of his body; he desperately tried to reach out a hand to shove your shoulder back and push you away, but his mind was too busy swimming with the concentration of trying to remember how to inhale.

The sharp breaths he dragged in painfully were starting to worry you, as were the wracks of his spine as he seemed to writhe backwards and forwards, back arching off the wall before collapsing back down on itself painfully again.

He felt your hand clench around his back, guiding him to sit still again. You were close, far too close - your noses almost touching, as you took a risk and used your free hand to slowly.... god, so fucking slowly he felt like he was going to split in half. He looked like a wounded animal: something terrified of being hurt as his eyes stayed trained on your approaching fingers, face wary until your fingertips touched his hair and tucked it behind his ear.

And then he felt that warmth. That warmth against the shell of his ear. He bit down hard enough on his lip to draw blood, and for once, he was glad for the taste. It was comforting. Familiar. Deserved. He wasn't one for the fucking heartache of tenderness. And god, how his heart ached.

'Come on,' you nestled yourself between his legs again and perched your elbow up on his left leg. 'People must have cared about you before. Might as well get it all out in the open. Be honest with each other now.'

He paused, before the stubbornness wormed its way in again. 'No, they haven't-'

'Well, what about your parents? Your parents must have been kind. Besides, the crew obviously cares about you. I obviously care about you. Stop being so pig-headed.''

He startled you with a laugh: he seemed to choke on it, his teeth baring as he barked it out, yet he still couldn't seem to look at you quite yet. That's alright. You had an eternity left in these few hours.

Kindness?

He couldn't remember a time before joining Stede's crew that he had ever felt such a thing, let alone let it fester in the crevices of his ribcage until he felt the dreaded thing was going to claw its way out. Perhaps, if he let himself fester in the silence for a moment, an image of his mother would squirm its way out of his long repressed memories. Clawing and scratching and digging her pointed nails to dig her way out. No, his mother had never offered him a jot of comfort. She could stay buried in that coffin he had stuffed her down into, instead of rotting inside of him. He had enough barnacles to scrape off his body as it was.

It wasn't as if he had any surprisingly sweet memories of his life before. His mother had never been one for grace: her words always bit at his brain like a frenzied tempest, his actions never good enough. Once, when he was six years old, he had tottered up before the sun rose and followed his older brother down to the docks, trying to please his mother. Even so young, he had spent most of his years yearning to be seen as anything but the 'nuisance' or 'pest' his mother used to spit at his feet, and yearned to return with a line full of fish to please her. To help her with the chores that she always yammered his father had left her to rot with. Had left him. That he rotted away her youth. When he came slinking into the doorway, a nervous smile twitching at his ruddy cheeks, his mother had taken one look at the muddy, damp fringes of his trousers and had slapped him clean across the face for his troubles.

Another part of him remembered her warmth. The same that radiated off your palm as you spread your fingers across his knee; the way she would sometimes scutter into his bed at night, and he could smell the harsh sting of alcohol on her breath as she curled up and hugged him close against her chest. Of the way she would sometimes let him sit on her knee once the three of them had returned home after service, and she would brush back his growing hair and he would curl himself up to chase the stray ray of sunlight that glowed against her neck.

It had left him a Gordian mess of a man. Simultaneously spending his life seeking any kind of validation, any kind of affection, while his stubborn self-preservation did its best to push everyone away.And yet here you came, watching him with those sweet, sad eyes. Swinging the sword to undo him.

'I don't remember much about them', he replied curtly, but not unkindly. 'My father left us when I was young. I was... mainly left to my own devices.'

You nod slowly, letting his words thinking in. Letting the misery drenching every seething heave of his tongue wash over your head. 'Well', you began to rub your thumb in circles against his trousers, 'at least you have us here now. One good thing to add to the pile.'

There we go. The knot's slowly being undone.

You tried to smile, but the intensity of his gaze falling on you again unsettled you.

'You're right.' His voice was far too earnest for his own good. 'I have had one good thing in my life. You're the best thing that's ever happened to me.'

You nearly jolted when you felt his hand smack down on top of yours. He had closed his eyes to try and hide himself from his discomfort, but his gloved fingers still slid between yours and squeezed despite himself. Once he was assured they were firmly intertwined: his own grasping tight enough to bust the leather at the stitching, he dared himself to finish his train of thought before he lost his nerve.

'I do... I do care about the crew. None of this was their fault, and they shouldn't have been fucking blamed for it. But I- I, I care about someone else far more than all of this twatty lot put together.'

It's a whisper into the darkness. A despairing yell of defiance against the solitude. A smothered light, long lingering and far longer forgotten. A spark of hope against the threat of ruination. It was a silver tear, glinting like starlight against his iris and falling with a content plop onto the back of your hand.

'I-I-', he stuttered out, clenching his teeth as he wills himself not to cry. 'I-'

The words refused to unlatch from his throat. Luckily, you were adept enough to notice the longing that drew a sad ache across his face.

'Izzy, I-'

'Let me finish', he stumbled out, his whole face now contorting as he struggled with the weight of it all. His bottom lip began to wobble against his will, face falling in on itself.

'I have-I have... love. For you. 'What I'm trying to say is'-, he shakes his head, chiding himself.

'Izzy, I know, it's alright. I know. I understand.' You grabbed tighter onto the back of your hand, enveloping it with your free one until his stopped shaking, begging him to realise you could see him.

'No-. No. If I don't say it now, I'm worried I never will.'

'Take your time, take your time. We have all the time in the world'. A sob finally gasped out from Izzy, chest heaving as he felt you draw his hands up towards your mouth. Still safe. Still warm. Still firmly cupped between your own, but the feel of your lips brushing against his knuckles was enough to send him reeling. The gentle peck that followed, though, was enough to finally let him break free.

A tentative finger reached out, checking for any signs of repulsion before landing awkwardly to point into the blade of your shoulder. He seemed to freeze: immobile marble frozen in fear as he seemed unaware as to what to next. After a few wary blinks, he clumsily spent a few seconds trying to manoeuvre the rest of his arm to cross across your back, before tugging your torso to lean closer towards him.

For a moment, it finally seems as if the world has skittered upright on his axis again. It felt normal. It felt right, feeling him grow comfortable with affection again as he melted, for the second time that week, into your hug. For his sake, as he burrowed his head into the pulse point of your neck until his stubble began to tickle your collar bone, you pretended not to hear the maimed whimpers that struggled past his closed lips.

The only time he moved was to raise his head up towards your nose, bumping it playfully against the tip of your own. Then another graze. A rub, and then another one, his eyes the whole time languidly drawn down to stare at your cupid's bow, until he slowly brought himself down to breathe unsteadily against your mouth. After a final moment of contemplation, he blinked placidly before closing his eyes and tilting his head to close the miniscule distance between the two of you.

His jaw was tense as you ran your finger down it, so busy trying to commit to his memory the pressure of your lips against his bottom one that he was forgetting to breath. But he didn't pull away. In fact, his hand clamped around your neck, digging almost painfully into your back as he stumblingly latched onto you, forcing himself further against your opening mouth. His hand found solace by cupping the back of your skull, chest squeezed against your breasts as he opened his lips and almost devoured you whole.

A loud 'awww!' erupted from your side, making the two of you jolt apart. The only problem was, Izzy's bottom lip had been rather firmly attached to yours. This meant that as you drew back, Izzy, in his stubborn unwillingness to let you go, let his bottom lip drag down along your inner mouth until a line of saliva connected your bottom lips, which only made the person the other side of the brig giggle even louder.

'You guys are cute', Black Pete yawned with a wakening stretch.

'Yes!', Roach chimed in as he teddy bear rolled his lanky legs round in front of him. 'I swear!', he continues, ostentatiously wiping his finger underneath his eye, 'I must be crying! I'm two seconds away from going up there and commencing our escape myself.'

With a tilt of your head that hit Izzy's chin, you looked at the cook incredulously. Izzy only gazed down at you past the crook of his nose, wonderstruck as the he let the words wash over his head.

'You. You really think you can take on all those very competent pirates up there.'

'Of course!'

'You cried for twenty minutes earlier about soup!'

Roach waved his hand unconvincingly in front of his face. 'Broth, it was broth! But I'm great with knives, remember! I have one hidden in my underwear right now!'

'Why... why is it in your underwear?', Oluwande piped in as he rested his head on the side of a barrel.

'Yeah, you weren't captured', Archie added, shuffling her own head off Jim's shoulder to look out past the bars. 'Why isn't it, I don't know, in your pocket or something.'

Even though Roach has opened his mouth to answer, his train of thought is broken by the tired grumble of another one of your friends. 'I hate to admit it, but that was actually very sweet', Lucius chimed in, twisting his lips into a shit-eating grin as he eyed the both of you up, another cigarette now firmly tucked in and freshly lit between his fingers as he took a drag.

'Is everyone on this fucking boat awake?!', Izzy cried, wrapping a hand protectively around your shoulder joint.

You snorted, burying your head protectively against the soft skin of his bellybutton. The sound of the crew beginning to argue with an increasingly impatient Izzy was like music to your ears; the monster was beginning to retreat.

No longer did it hang and shake and pierce the walls with its talons until it bled umbras. It retreated: chased away by the comely love of your crew. Of your family. Of the man who held you protectively against him, blinding you with his tender love.

[collinrobinsonsglasses]

Hey babes!!! Love your work so much, keeping me going in this trying time (cancellation)

Ive had this silly little idea bouncing around for a while. I was thinking like Noble turned Pirate Reader x Izzy hands

maybe the reader is really good at sword-fighting and Izzy doesn't know how, with some angst but a happy ending? Im sure whatever you do will be amazing!!! Thank you so so much <3

Izzy Hands x Reader (GN)

Masterlist

I hope this is what you were looking for <;3 @im-a-fungi1234

Swordplay and Secrets 

After years on the job, Izzy developed a keen instinct for sizing people up quickly, based on their skill with a sword and their interactions with fellow pirates. Despite his confidence in this ability, you remained a mystery to him. The moment Blackbeard ordered the crew of Queen Anne’s Revenge to aid Stede Fucking Bonnet during his capture by the Spanish, Izzy’s attention was drawn to you. He observed as you effortlessly cut down men with your sword, displaying a level of confidence and eloquence he rarely witnessed among other pirates. 

After a week aboard Bonnet’s ship, it became glaringly obvious to Izzy that you and Jim stood in stark contrast to the other fucking morons on this crew. Both of you possessed formidable combat skills, Jim in knife fighting and you with a sword. What set you apart even more was your reserved nature. Jim appeared guarded and often simmering with anger, whereas you maintained a polite and unassuming demeanor when interacting with your peers. In contrast, the rest of Bonnet’s idiots on board had no issues drawing attention to themselves and behaving like utter twats. 

It bothered Izzy to no end that he wasn’t able to figure you out. The puzzle became a fixation for him, especially as his captain sank deeper into the clutches of Stede Bonnet, a situation beyond Izzy’s control at the moment. Recognizing the potential danger in not understanding who you were, Izzy was determined to uncover more about you. Izzy harbored a general distrust for people already, even the pirates he felt he understood. On the quarterdeck, he observed you attempting to impart a lesson on swordplay to Bonnet’s scribe on the main deck. Izzy couldn’t shake the feeling that it might be a lost cause; the scribe came across as particularly lazy. 

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“Lucius, focus. I thought we were here to practice,” you chided, your words directed at Lucius, who glanced up distractedly toward the quarterdeck. 

Lucius had been the person you connected with the most on The Revenge. Aside from Captain Bonnet, he shared the most similar background with you. 

“I don’t know how I’m supposed to focus, babe, when Dizzy Izzy is up there shooting daggers at us,” Lucius grumbled, nodding towards Izzy who observed from above. “What’s his deal?” 

“Just ignore him” you urged, subtly glancing up towards Izzy. “I feel like he’s always just staring.” 

This comment elicited a smirk from Lucius. “Not at me, he’s not.” Lucius whispered. 

“Sword fighting is like dancing,” you began, ignoring Lucius’s comment. Your words caused him to audibly groan. “Each strike is a coordinated step. You have to be able to lead and follow, anticipating each move like partners in rhythm.” 

“For the record, I hate dancing,” Lucius whined. 

You attempted to teach Lucius the art of sword fighting, emphasizing the importance of balance, footwork, and precise strikes. However, it became apparent that he was quickly losing interest. He struggled with the movements, and after a few attempts, he let out a sigh of defeat. Part of you couldn’t shake the disappointment as you realized that in Stede’s crew, finding someone decent to practice sword fighting with was proving to be a challenge. You had hoped that teaching Lucius would offer an opportunity to hone your skills, but his quick disinterest was clear. Your father, a master swordsman, had instilled in you the importance of these skills. Learning to wield a sword had once only been a way of connecting with him, but now it served as a skill for your survival. 

A sense of loneliness crept in as your mind drifted back to your home, the family, and friends you left behind. You came from a noble family, a family secretly grappling with financial struggles. Outwardly you and your family always maintained the air and manners of nobility, even though you lacked the comfort of wealth. You never truly felt like you belonged in that world. The desperation within your family eventually led to your departure, seeking a way to support them. Piracy had become the only realistic option, even though it left you feeling like an outsider. Stuck between two worlds, you found peace in the civility aboard Stede Bonnet’s ship, grateful for the steady income it provided, which served as a lifeline for your family. The sole confidant in your past was Lucius, and while he understood your perspective, you couldn’t shake the suspicion that the rest of the crew wouldn’t share the same understanding. 

Suddenly, Israel Hands appeared before you and Lucius. “Fuck off, Mr. Spriggs,” the first mate spat at him. Lucius shot you a worried look but promptly followed the instructions, likely relieved to have an excuse to escape the lesson. 

Once Lucius was out of sight, Izzy turned back around, eyeing you curiously. “Who taught you sword fighting?” Izzy questioned accusingly. 

“My father,” you replied plainly. In your upbringing, the importance of listening to those stationed above you was stressed, but you learned that sometimes, answering as simply as possible could get you out of tricky situations. This was not the first time Izzy had asked you questions about your past, but he was getting more persistent. 

“Who is your father?” Izzy rolled his eyes, edging closer to you in an attempt to appear intimidating. 

“No one that you know, sir,” you replied curtly. You had no interest in divulging your background, well aware that it would only complicate matters. Witnessing how the crew reacted to Stede Bonnet’s station, you understood that maintaining a low profile was crucial. The crew’s tendency not to take him seriously reinforced your resolve to keep your head down and focus on making enough to support your family. 

Izzy was visibly getting annoyed as you continued to dodge his questions. You observed his furrowed eyebrows raise, and you sensed that an idea had crossed his mind. 

“Let’s have a duel then. If I win, you tell me who you are and where you’re from,” Izzy challenged. 

You considered the offer, a part of you hoping that a victory on your part would finally put an end to Izzy’s inquiries. 

“Fine. If I win, you stop asking,” you replied with a sigh, agreeing to the duel in the hope of putting this matter to rest once and for all. 

The clash of steel reverberated through the air as you and Izzy engaged in a fierce sword fight. The dance of blades unfolded with a relentless intensity, each parry and thrust executed with precision. For much of the duel, you seemed to have the upper hand, skillfully anticipating Izzy’s moves and countering with calculated strikes. Despite the circumstances, a sense of enjoyment crept over you. Engaging in this sword fight felt like a proper duel. It became a form of meditation, your mind fully immersed in the combat, anticipating every move Izzy might make. In that moment, all other worries dissipated, leaving only the dance of steel. 

As the battle reached its climax, Izzy found himself on the defensive, struggling to keep up. However, with a swift move, he expertly kicked a leg from under you, sending you sprawling to the ground. In that moment of vulnerability, Izzy seized the opportunity. With a swift motion, he pointed his sword at your neck, and looked down towards you with a smirk. 

A sudden surge of anxiety gripped you as Izzy’s sword found its mark, pointing at your throat. The anonymity you had enjoyed among your crewmates, the chance to start anew without the weight of a title, was suddenly under threat. The idea of revealing your true identity to Izzy filled you with a sense of dread. The prospect of disclosing your background to Izzy meant potentially forfeiting the freedom you had found among the crew. 

Izzy withdrew his sword from your neck, smoothly returning it to his side, allowing you a moment to sit back and catch your breath. After a while, Izzy, wielding his sword with gentleness, used the flat of his weapon to gently lift your chin, ensuring your eyes met his. As your eyes locked with Izzy’s, a defiant glare emanated from your stare. 

“Who is your father?” Izzy repeated. 

In a hushed tone, you admitted, “He’s a duke,” the defiance still present in your unwavering stare directed at Izzy. With a deliberate motion, you shifted his sword aside with your hand and rose to your feet. 

Izzy sneered, his expression twisted with disgust. “Oh I see. You’re just another rich twatty playing at being a pirate for fun. You’re just like Stede fucking Bonnet.”

This was the reaction you had feared all along. A surge of rage consumed you at the insinuation that your life as a pirate was a frivolous choice. In response, you turned away from Izzy, no longer willing to listen to his insults. However, his firm grip on your arm halted your departure. 

“Did I speak out of turn?” Izzy taunted with sarcasm, trying his best to sound proper. 

You weren’t sure if it was anger or lingering emotions about your family, but tears welled up in your eyes. “You don’t know anything about the sacrifices I’ve had to make,” you spat at Izzy, attempting to hold back tears, though a few managed to escape. Swiftly wiping them away with your free hand, you jerked your arm from his grip and hurriedly descended below deck. 

 ⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓

Izzy observed you leaving, a sense of vindication washing over him for what he said to you. He was tired of nobles deciding they wanted to be pirates on a whim. However, he couldn’t shake off his confusion at your reaction. Unlike Stede Bonnet, you didn’t exude pride, but the idea of a noble on a pirate ship didn’t make sense to Izzy. Abruptly, Mr. Spriggs materialized at his side, a presence Izzy had overlooked in his intense focus on winning the sword fight. 

“Well Dizzy Izzy, that was pretty fucked up,” Lucius started. 

“Fuck off,” Izzy grumbled, feeling uniterested in engaging in the conversation. 

Lucius paid no heed to Izzy’s dismissal, crossing his arms as he spoke. “It’s actually quite sad,” he remarked with a frown. “Their father squandered the family’s fortune through gambling, and now they send all the money they earn back to support their mother and siblings.” 

Izzy held his silence as Lucius revealed more about your circumstances, a wave of guilt washing over him for the harsh words he had directed at you. 

“They mentioned piracy was the only option they had.” Lucius concluded, walking away with a satisfied air about the point he had made. 

“Fuck,” Izzy whispered, his regret palpable, and he descended below deck in search of you. 

Izzy discovered you in Bonnet’s ballroom, seated amongst the scattered cannonballs. The dim light revealed traces of tears on your cheeks. 

Izzy approached quietly. He gestured toward the vacant spot next to you on the floor, whispering, “Can I sit?” 

You nodded in acknowledgement, but your gaze remained fixed ahead, deliberately avoiding any eye contact with Izzy. 

Izzy began, "Mr. Spriggs told me about why you're here. I said some things I regret. It's honorable that you're trying to take care of your family."

"I just chose the least honorable way to do it," you replied. Despite the weight of the conversation, a small smirk played on your lips, and Izzy was relieved to see that you weren't in tears. "If I had a choice, I wouldn't be here," you continued.

"Where would you be?" Izzy asked curiously.

"I miss my family, but I never really felt like I belonged there either," you whispered, a hint of sadness in your voice.

"Maybe you wouldn't have chosen this life, but you belong here," Izzy whispered back. "Piracy is a place for people who feel like they don't belong anywhere." 

As Izzy glanced over at you sitting beside him, an unexpected emotion washed over him. In this moment, he found himself admiring and respecting the choices you had made. Moreover, it was the first time in a long while that Izzy had encountered someone capable of wielding a sword as skillfully as he could.

Izzy chuckled, "You almost kicked my ass during that fight."

"You kicked me, literally," you replied, playfully rolling your eyes. "That's the best fight I've had in a while."

"It's because you're surrounded by a ship full of twats who wouldn't know what side of a sword to use," Izzy grumbled.

Your laughter filled the air, causing Izzy's heart to skip a beat for a moment.

"We should fight more often," you suggested with a grin. "If I win, you have to tell me something about yourself, and if you win, I'll tell you more about me."

"Deal," Izzy replied quickly, a genuine eagerness in his tone. He wanted to learn more about you, intrigued by the prospect of unraveling the layers beneath the surface. The fact that you were interested in knowing about him surprised and pleased him. People rarely asked Izzy about himself anymore; they tended to accept the rumors at face value. He hoped the future would bring more sword fights and late-night conversations with you.

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

Early Retirement

Summary: Izzy washes up on a beach after leaving the Revenge and rowing through a storm. Luckily for him, a kindhearted stranger took it upon themselves to take him in and nurse him back to health. Maybe even give him a new home.

Word Count: 6478

It’s cold. Too cold.

It seeped down into his bones and settled there until he couldn’t feel his limbs, he couldn’t feel anything other than that debilitating cold. He forced his eyes open but saw nothing but darkness, the salt stinging them. His lungs burnt in their attempt to suck in air but received nothing but water. 

Then everything just…disappeared.

The amount of time that passed was a mystery to Izzy but when he came back to consciousness, it was warm. It felt like his body had thawed out, limbs heavy but at least he could feel them now.

His heavy eyelids blinked open, the sunlight coming in through a window making him wince. Everything had a slight blur to it but he could make out that he was in a bedroom, one that he definitely didn’t recognise. He was tucked into a bed, pillows cradling his head and plush bedding cocooning his body, his injured foot elevated on a pile of cushions.

The last thing he could remember was…the sea. Fuck. He had left the Revenge after Stede’s return, at least being allowed the dignity to make that decision himself. A freak storm had rolled in when he was half way to reaching land in his rowboat. It ripped his little boat to shreds and the ocean had pulled him beneath the waves. 

He had barely even fought it when it happened. Izzy had always known this would be how he went, at the mercy of the sea, better than the end of a sword. Men like him didn’t get peaceful deaths, he accepted that a long time ago.

Yet, here he was and it was too warm and soft to be Hell.

As his senses returned to him he focused on a smell that wafted up from somewhere else in the house, it was something savoury, something warm and comforting.

He wasn’t alone then. It made sense, of course, but it still put him on edge.

Izzy tried to pull himself up from the bed but it felt like his body was weighed down and his foot throbbed when he tried to move it. With a grunt, he fell back down onto the bed. He could barely move, he’d need a proper plan before he flung himself out of bed.

Before he could try to move again, the door to the bedroom he was cooped up in opened. “You’re awake,” you smiled warmly, “how are you feeling?”

The pale, ragged, looking man in your guest bed was glaring at you. You were sure he would be threatening if he didn’t look like he just crawled out of an ocean grave.

“Where am I?” he questioned accusingly.

“Somewhere safe,” you assured him, ignoring his hostility as you crossed the room.

He hesitated, watching you cautiously. You supposed you couldn’t blame him, he was in a strange place and somewhat incapacitated.

“What happened?”

You sighed. “You washed up on the beach a few days ago. Saw you on a morning walk, thought you were dead by the look of you. Nearly scared the life out of me when you breathed,” you told him honestly.

“Days?” Perhaps his surprise would have been a little more audible if his voice wasn’t so scratchy. His wide eyes conveyed it enough though.

“Your foot is injured but it was wrapped so I assume you know that. You had an infection, have been in and out of consciousness with a fever for the last four days. I’m not surprised you don’t remember any of it,” you informed him.

“So you just happened upon me, dragged me back to your home, and nursed me back to health?” He was suspicious of you and he wasn’t trying to hide it.

“The doctor got some men to help haul you up from the beach and stopped you from dying on us, he left some medication, but then just left me to it.”

“Where are my things?” It was only then, as he shifted on the bed, that he realised he was only wearing his smalls under the blankets.

“For somebody who just avoided death, you are awfully quizzical,” you raised an eyebrow at him. “Everything that survived your little swim is safely stored in another room. I’m generous enough to try to help a stranger but not naive enough to let them have blades on them. I’ll bring you your clothes now that you’re awake and a pair of linen pants, they’ll be easier to get on and more comfortable than those leathers you washed up in.”

“So you know I could be dangerous?” Izzy squinted at you. You know he was dangerous but taking the chance anyway only made him more suspicious. People didn’t just do things out of the kindness of their hearts, especially for people who they thought were dangerous.

“No offence but when a man washes up on the shore, armed to the teeth and clad in black leathers, I don’t assume they’re just a travelling merchant,” you rolled your eyes.

“This happen a lot?” he asked sarcastically. At least he was well enough to give you some snark.

“Nope, you’re my first,” you shrugged, smirking slightly. “So, what do I call you?” you asked.

“None of your business,” Izzy growled, though it came out weak and scratchy.

“Well, you’re in my home but okay,” you rolled your eyes at him, as if he wasn’t a threat. Then again, he supposed he wasn’t much of a threat right now.

Izzy frowned, but his glare remained hard on you. “Who are you?”

“You tell me and I’ll tell you, for now you can just call me…your guardian angel,” you offered, making him scowl. “Anyway, you’re looking a lot brighter than when you washed up. You should be able to keep solid foods down now, so I made some healing stew special for you. Oh, and the bread just came out the oven this morning.”

Before Izzy could question you further, you had waltzed out of the room.

He didn’t have to wait long for you to return though, this time entering the room with a tray balanced on your hip. You walked up to his bedside, placing the tray down on the table beside his bed. 

The tray held a bowl of stew, a couple slices of bread, a mug of herbal tea, and a glass of water. 

Izzy just glared at the tray as you took a step back.

“Look, I’m not holding you hostage. If you want to leave, you can, but have some common sense and stay put for a while. Your foot was inflamed when you showed up, the doctor had to shave down the bone and redo the stitches. You need to rest it if you want it to heal properly,” you chastised him.

The man frowned, looking down at his foot. You saw the pain in his eyes and it made your voice soften. “Doctor said you’ll be able to move around in a couple of days if you use a crutch, then you’ll just have to use a cane. Once it’s healed though, he said it probably won’t affect your movement or balance at all.”

“You sure?” he dared to be hopeful.

“The doctor seems pretty sure. But you have to follow orders if you want it to heal properly. So you can’t go hobbling around looking for your ship just yet.”

He squinted at you, suspicions returning at full force. “What do you know about my ship?”

“Relax. I don’t know anything. I’m just not stupid, I figured you’re a pirate,” you shrugged.

Apparently, that only made him more suspicious of you. “And you still risked taking me in?” You had to have ulterior motives, it’s the only thing that made sense.

“You gonna kill me?”

“No. Not if you don’t give me a reason too.”

“Rob me.”

“No, unless I kill you.”

“...take me hostage and sell me?”

“No…”

Izzy sighed. You were right, he wasn’t a threat right now and even if he was, he had no intentions on hurting you unless you gave him a reason too.

“Then it looks like we’re safe,” you smiled, like you had just sorted some problem out. “Eat, I’ll be back soon to collect your dishes and change your bandages,” you ordered lightly before leaving the room again.

The next time you returned it was to take away his dirty dishes. He had emptied the bowl, having not realised how hungry he had been until he took that first bite. He would probably be able to eat more but knew better than to risk it, too much too soon could have him bringing it all back up.

You had brought some supplies with you to change the bandages on his foot. He had glared at you the whole time, as if expecting you to do something to purposely hurt him. You didn’t though. Instead, you handled his foot and ankle delicately, cleaned the wound as carefully as you could and rebandaged it. Working diligently, only speaking when you were apologising for something you couldn’t help or asking him if the bandages were too tight.

The rest of the day went much like that. He didn’t speak whenever you came into the room to bring him food or take away empty plates, and you didn’t try to engage him in conversation, just polite small talk before leaving again.

-

The next morning, Izzy woke up to you bringing him another tray of food. “Morning,” you greeted him, placing the tray down beside him. “Made you some breakfast, have to keep your strength up.”

Izzy tried to sit up, making himself wince. You moved quickly, helping him shift into a comfortable sitting position. His whole body still ached but the comfortable bed was helping, he couldn’t imagine how he would have felt if he had been recovering on his little cot back on the Revenge.

“How are you feeling?” you asked, sounding like you genuinely wanted to know, weren’t just being polite.

“Like my boat wrecked,” Izzy mumbled, letting you settle the tray over his lap.

“Well, that’s to be expected. You look better than you did yesterday already, that’s a good sign,” you encouraged. “I’ll be around, have some things to tend to, but just shout if you need something.” Izzy only nodded before you were out the door again.

-

The next few days went very much the same but with each passing day, Izzy could feel his strength coming back. He could sit up perfectly fine on his own, had even stood once, only to fall back down when his injured foot touched the floor. He could feel himself recovering, the room was comfortable and the food was good. He supposed he shouldn’t complain but…he was feeling cooped up, trapped, useless.

Izzy lay on the bed, staring up at the ceiling when he heard movement outside his window. It was probably nothing of interest but even that was appealing to him right now.

He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, bracing his weight against the bedside table as he stood on his uninjured foot. He kept the wounded foot from touching the floor as he hobbled towards the window.

It was morning, you had just taken his breakfast dishes from his room, and the weather outside was bright. He looked out over the garden.

From what he could make out, he was on the second floor of a cottage, no other residences in sight.

From his window, he could see your garden where you were tending to your chickens. Tossing feed out for them. He lent against the window frame to support his weight and just watched.

You wiped your hands on your apron once you were finished tending to your chickens, looking up to see your guest in the window of the guest bedroom.

Izzy felt his face heating up, a shame building in his chest as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn’t. But you just smiled brightly and waved at him, silently noting to yourself to chastise him for moving around without support.

-

Izzy scowled at you from his position, perched on the edge of his bed.

“Here you go,” you presented him with the wooden crutch the doctor had given you for him. “Think you can manage?” you kept your hands out, as if ready to catch him if he fell, as he pulled himself to his feet, letting the crutch take the weight off of his bad foot.

“I’ve used a crutch before,” he grumbled, determined to be able to be properly independent again.

“Just making sure,” you were still watching him closely, hands hovering around him as you moved out of his way.

Rolling his eyes at you, Izzy gave the crutch a test run, using it to walk across the room without grabbing at tables and walls. You just nodded to yourself, satisfied that he was adjusting well to it.

“Listen, now you move around more by yourself but don’t take the piss,” you scolded, surprising him a little. “You still need to rest, to stay off of your foot as much as possible. Okay?”

As much as he wanted to scoff and dismiss you, he could tell you were serious.

“Yeah, whatever.”

“Seriously, just accept some help, alright?” you found yourself rolling your eyes at him again, you had lost count of how many times you had done so since this man could hold a conversation again. Still, you found you did it with a little fondness.

-

Now that Izzy had started using his crutch, he could move around your cottage, moving up and down the stairs with your help. He insisted that he didn’t need your help but you wouldn’t let him near the narrow staircase unless you were with him.

At least that meant he could come downstairs and sit in the living room or the kitchen instead of being locked away in his room all alone, he could even go and sit outside and get some fresh air. 

He was currently in the living room, you had left him in front of the fire with a selection of books to choose from, while you finished cleaning up in the kitchen. You had just put the last of the dishes away when you heard hissed cursing coming from the other room.

Tossing the rag down, you rushed into the living room to find Izzy standing, gripping the back of the couch with one hand and clutching his crutch with another. The pain was etched on his face.

“Alright, come on,” you spoke softly, with care, as you hurried to his side. 

You took hold of his arm, listening to him complain as you encouraged him to lean some weight against you. Still, he let you guide him back to the couch and sit him down.

Once he was sitting and you had placed the crutch to the side, you knelt down in front of him and pulled his wounded foot into your lap.

He had knocked it against something when he was walking around and when you unwrapped the bandages you saw that it was a little red but looked perfectly fine otherwise. He hadn’t broken any of the stitches, he wasn’t bleeding, it didn’t look too irritated. Thankfully, he was still on the mend.

“You have to take it easy, be careful and don’t over do it,” you sighed. Something about this man told you that he wasn’t used to sitting idle for long.

“I’m fine. Just knocked it,” he insisted petulantly.

“Yeah, well…just be careful. Once the bandages come off for good and you can put proper weight on your foot again, you’ll be able to get around with just a cane.”

“And then I’ll have outstayed my welcome,” Izzy nodded like he was agreeing with something.

“What? No!” you frowned, sitting back on your heels. “Of course not. You’re welcome to stay here for as long as you need.”

Izzy blinked at you, face contorting in confusion. “Why?”

“Because I’m kind and you’ve been a decent guest so far,” you shrugged, like it was truly that simple and that true, standing and brushing off your knees. “Now, sit still for once and I’ll fetch you some tea,” you ordered and, well, Izzy could follow orders, couldn’t he.

You were just about to leave the room, just about to cross the threshold, when he spoke up.

“My name is Izzy.”

You paused in the doorway, taking a moment to make sure you had heard him correctly. You turned back to him with a smile, all soft and sweet in a way that warmed him from the inside out.

“Izzy,” you repeated, testing the word on your tongue. Izzy found that he liked the sound of it and you decided that you liked the feel of it. “I like it.”

Izzy only nodded when you gave him your own name, still smiling as you disappeared back into the kitchen to prepare that tea for the two of you.

That evening, the two of you enjoyed a soothing tea in front of the fire together.

-

“I think it makes you look distinguished,” you complimented as you monitored his movements, smiling at how far he had come since you found him half dead in the sand.

“That’s a generous way of saying old,” Izzy rolled his eyes, adjusting his hold on the handle of his new cane. It wasn’t anything fancy but it was simple and sleek, good enough for him in his opinion.

“Absolutely not,” you tutted. “Anyway, you wear the age well so it still wouldn’t be an insult,” you shrugged.

Izzy looked away from you meaningfully, hoping to play it off as casual. “If you say so.”

“You could get a real nice one with a silver handle or something. Oh! You can get one with a hidden knife in it!”

You could just picture holding a sleek but ornate cane, just simple enough to satisfy him. Looking all distinguished and formal until somebody says the wrong thing, looks at him the wrong away, and he unsheathes his hidden blade.

“Huh…that’s not a bad idea, actually,” Izzy hummed, looking at the cane more approvingly this time. Yeah, maybe he could make this work.

-

Evening tea had become a bit of a routine for the two of you now. Sitting in your cozy living room in front of the fire, blankets over your laps, a cup of tea in your hands, and maybe a book each depending on your mood. It was a pleasant, calming way to end the day.

Izzy kept glancing at you, watching as your eyes followed the lines in your book, lost in the fictional world. He wanted to speak, to get this off of his chest, to take the weight off of your shoulders but…but he found himself worried that saying what he needed to say would take all of this away from him. He liked this, even if it wasn’t a life made for him. He would miss it.

“I’m really able to leave now. I’d find a ship,” he finally managed to speak, to push the words out without faltering.

You paused, lowering your book to look at him. “And I’ve told you, you’re still welcome. I like living out of the way, like the quiet, y’know, but it’s been nice to have you here. You’re interesting and I enjoy your company. Izzy scoffed. “Really, I do,” you insisted.

“Well, you’re probably the only person who does,” he muttered, thumbing at the pages of the book he hadn’t been reading.

“That can’t be true.”

“Apparently, I’m difficult.”

“Okay…yeah, I can see that. But it’s kind of…endearing, you know?” you laughed a little.

Izzy pondered it for a moment, still not really believing it despite how sincere you sounded. “...if you say so.”

“I do,” you didn’t care how many times you needed to reassure him, he needed it and that was all you needed to know. “Anyway, don’t you go worrying about rushing out of here. You can stay as long as you need.”

“You wouldn’t want me here if you knew who I was,” Izzy insisted firmly.

“Well, tell me who you are, Izzy,” you placed your book down, completely forgotten about, so that he could see your full attention was on him. “Tell me, Izzy. It won’t change anything,” you promised.

Izzy sighed, placing his unopened book down as well, refusing to look at you as he spoke. “You can’t promise that.”

“You’ll never know unless you tell me,” you shrugged.

Izzy took a stabling breath but nodded, knowing you were right, that you would probably find out eventually anyway. It would be better if you heard it from him.

“My full name is Israel Hands and you were right about me being a pirate,” he started. For some, that would be enough information.

“...that name is familiar,” you hummed thoughtfully, trying to remember where you heard it. It didn’t sound like a common name and you were certain you didn’t know anyone with the name ‘Hands’, but you had definitely heard the name before somewhere.

“I’m the first mate of Blackbeard,” he added.

For a moment, you could only gape at him. It wasn’t everyday you found out you were housing one of the most infamous pirates of your time.

Izzy waited for the horror or disgust to set in. He knew the stories and tall tales people told, some true and others wildly fabricated. He knew that you had likely heard one or two stories yourself if you recognised his name.

You shook off the surprise but found yourself more confused about how he ended up here. “What is the first mate of Blackbeard doing washing up here with a missing toe?” you asked, not sounding disgusted or afraid of him.

“It’s a long story,” he sighed, figuring you didn’t really want to hear it anyway.

“I have the time.”

Izzy was certain that you were just being polite, perhaps even afraid that if you weren’t he would hurt you in some way, but when he looked at you, you were nothing but genuine. Your eyes held the usual care and sincerity that they usually did when they gazed upon him. Your smile was still soft. Like nothing had changed, and maybe it hadn’t.

So, unable to find a reason not to, Izzy told you everything. You just made yourself so easy to talk to. He started from the very beginning because you wanted to know who he was, not just how he ended up here. 

He told you of a young boy at the docks sneaking onto a ship, of a cabin boy aboard Captain Hornigold’s ship, of a newly made captain and first mate that still had sparks in their eyes. He told you about the creation and rise of Blackbeard, of the fuckeries, the victories, and the losses. He told you about Queen Anne’s Revenge and of all the years they served her well. He told you of men growing bored and restless, of a ship christened The Revenge. Of the landed gentry come pirates. 

He told you a saga of hope and pain that ended in betrayal, desertion, mutilation, reunion, and finally in the enlightenment that had Izzy Hands climbing into a dinghy in the middle of the night. Only two days away from shore. Only one day before a storm that only his previous captain could have predicted.

Izzy told you everything in front of a crackling fire, the warm mug of tea growing cold in his hands. And you listened, like he was somebody worth listening to.

That night, you both fell asleep in the living room. The fire burning out but the blankets draped over you both keeping you warm. For the first time in a long time, neither of you fell asleep alone.

-

When you woke up the next morning to find the other side of the couch empty and the house silent, you worried. Your talk last night went very well, in your opinion. Izzy had opened up and you had listened, had reassured him when he was finished or doubted himself.

You threw off your blanket and jumped to your feet, heading out the front door. You walked around to the rocks that overlooked the beach, finding him sitting there, looking out at the sea.

You relaxed at the sight of him, reassured that he hadn't run away in the middle of the night. You joined him quietly, he didn’t look up but he seemed to welcome your company.

The two of you watched the sun rise over the horizon but you couldn’t help stealing looks at Izzy’s face, he looked so…content. There was a faint longing in his gaze, lost in his thoughts, but he looked happy, the early morning sun illuminating his face.

“Do you miss it?” you asked, staring out at the gentle water with him.

“Sometimes…” Izzy confessed on a soft exhale. “It’s all I’ve ever known, really. It’s strange being on land. The ground is always so still.”

“Yeah, it tends to be,” you joked a little, catching the way the corner of his mouth tugged upwards in the imitation of a smile.

A beat of silence passed. “I understand if you want me to leave now.” Unfortunately, he kept speaking before you could protest. “My foot is healed enough. The worst that can happen now is that I need the cane for the rest of my life, I’m sure I’ll manage just fine.”

This again…you sighed.

“Izzy, I don’t want you to leave.”

“Even when you know who I am?”

“Even then,” you nodded, smiling fondly. “I’ve known you long enough to know you’re not some violent barbarian that people tell stories about. I’ve known you long enough to know you wouldn’t hurt me and that I’m rather fond of you. My home is open to you for as long as you want it to be,” you promised.

“Kindness gets people killed,” Izzy chastised quietly.

“Lucky thing I have the best swordsman in the Caribbean to protect me then, huh?” you teased, knocking your shoulder against his.

“Yeah…real lucky…” Izzy mumbled out at the ocean.

“So you’re staying?” you asked, not hiding the hope in your voice. Izzy just nodded. “Good, I’m glad,” your smile grew.

“At least for the time being,” he shrugged.

“I’ll just have to make the most of it then, won’t I?” You tried not to roll your eyes at his attempt to play coy. Izzy shook his head at you but found himself smiling despite himself.

“Now come inside and get something to eat,” you patted his shoulder.

Izzy let you help him to his feet and hand him his cane without complaint. He even let you take him by the arm and guide him back into the cottage, though he pretended that he didn’t find the whole thing comforting.

-

You walked into Izzy’s room, which you had started calling it instead of ‘the guest room’, and found him shaving in front of the mirror.

“Aw, I was likely the scruffy look,” you pouted playfully.

“It’s a fucking nightmate,” Izzy muttered as he shaved his cheeks clean. Now he could stop scratching at the stubble. You just chuckled fondly at him.

“Want me to trim your hair when you’re done?” you offered. His stubble had grown in almost enough to not be considered stubble anymore and his hair had grown as well, you figured he’d want that trimmed back down if he was so particular about his facial hair.

“I can do it myself.”

“I have no doubt. I usually do my own as well, but a little helping hand would do no harm.”

Moving on to neatening around his goatee, Izzy sighed. “Fine…just…”

“I’ll do it exactly the way you want, don’t worry,” you promised him.

“Fine.”

You sat on the bed while Izzy finished shaving and trimming his goatee until it was perfectly neat. Izzy’s stubble had grown in while he was bed bound, so this was your first time seeing him properly groomed the way he liked. Turns out, you liked it too.

He was huffy about it but allowed you to pick up the shears and comb through his hair. You worked slowly, making sure to speak to him and not take it too short. As you spoke and worked, Izzy seemed to relax, trusting you.

You cut his hair back down to the length he preferred but he still hadn’t slicked it back with pomade like he usually did, hadn’t done so since he woke up in this very bedroom. Instead, it hung loose and soft over his ears. It made him look soft, less intense. He supposed it was more suitable for his current living conditions so he tried not to dwell on it too much.

“There you go. You look lovely,” you complimented, running your fingers through his hair and letting it fall, smiling proudly at your handiwork. Izzy scoffed. “Oh just accept it,” you tutted, “you’re all neat and tidy again, all nice and handsome.”

“Christ,” Izzy complained, glaring at your reflection. “I will maim you.”

“Ah, so there is some pirate left in you. Very nice to see,” you teased. “I’ll leave you to keep grooming yourself.”

You could hear him muttering curses to himself as you left the room, giggling to yourself.

-

Izzy sat at the kitchen island, cane propped up beside him, peeling apples while you worked on making a pastry. “You really need to make a pie?” Izzy questioned, but didn’t slow his work.

“We need to use up the apples somehow or they’re just going to go bad and that would be a waste,” you reminded him. “Anyway, you’ll like it. I make a great apple pie.”

“...you’ll have a high standard to beat,” he warned.

“You’ve made me curious, Izzy,” you looked over at him but he didn’t look like he wanted to talk any further about it, so you didn’t push. “You can tell me another day.”

You continued to make the pie, the fluidity of your actions telling Izzy that you had indeed done this many times. You would give him a task here and there, and he would carry it out diligently. You could imagine him as a first mate, just as diligent on the deck as he was as your sous chef.

Izzy watched you plate up two slices of freshly baked pie. “Here, have a slice while it’s still warm,” you placed a plate in front of him. “Cream?”

“Sure,” Izzy nodded and poured some over his slice before joining him, sitting beside him. Izzy took a spoonful of pie and brought it up to his mouth before pausing and scowling at you. “Stop fucking watching me like that.”

“I want to know if you like it,” you whined.

“Then I’ll tell you,” he huffed.

“No you wouldn’t. You’d mumble ‘yeah, it’s fine’ even if it was the best thing you had ever eaten.”

Izzy fought back his smile, knowing you were right. “I promise to tell you just stop looking at me like that.”

“Fine,” you sighed heavily, dramatically. “If you insist.” No, you weren’t pouting.

But you also didn’t watch him eat, and that was enough to satisfy him. “Okay, yeah…” Izzy sighed after swallowing his second bite. “This is good,” he praised.

“Thank you,” you grinned, bright and proud, before digging into your own slice. 

Izzy just chuckled and shook his head at you, going back to enjoying his pie.

Izzy slows his chewing when a thought dawns on him. This was all so…domestic, the way you moved around each other, shared the space together. He didn’t think he’d ever be sitting in a kitchen of a cute cottage, eating a pie that was made for him by his…fuck, he needed to shake off that thought immediately. 

His what? His carer? The person who took him in when he was on death’s door, who took pity on him.

“We could go for a walk later, maybe even down to town if you feel up to it. Give that cane a proper test run,” you suggested between bites.

“Sure,” he agreed.

“But I swear, if I see a single flinch or hesitation in your steps, we are turning around and coming right back home.” You didn’t come off as a threatening person, you were rarely stern with him, but he knew you were being serious about this.

Maybe he was focusing on the wrong part of your warning but…

Home. 

You talked about it like it was both your home and his home, a home you shared. Like it could be his home. Could this be his home? Fuck.

“Sounds good,” Izzy nodded.

-

Izzy had allowed himself to grow too comfortable, he only realised that when the worries seeped back in. He had grown used to your home, your presence. He didn’t like change, never had, and a lot of things had changed lately but the two of you had developed a bit of a routine that helped calm his nerves. Now it felt like it was all changing again.

You had been acting strange, almost distant towards him. As much as you could do while sharing the same space. He would often catch you losing yourself in through but never voicing them, never letting him in on it when he asked. Something was wrong, he must have done something wrong, it was the only thing that made sense. Maybe you were building up the courage to kick him out and send him on his way, you had realised he was more trouble than he was worth.

“Izzy, can we talk about something?”

This was it, you were going to ask him to leave. He has outstayed his welcome, if he has ever truly been welcome in the first place.

“Sure.” His voice didn’t falter and he was proud of himself for that.

“You told me how you ended up here, about what happened and I was wondering…well, the crew, Blackbeard, aren’t expecting you to return, are they?”

That question threw him off. Oh, maybe you were worried about Blackbeard coming to your shores and causing trouble. “Probably not. They’re probably relieved about it as well,” Izzy answered, honest but a little bitter about it, even he could admit to that.

“And you aren’t going to try to go back?” you asked, though the question wasn’t judgmental in any way.

“Wouldn’t be welcome if I tried, I imagine. But I have contacts, I’d find another ship or something,” he didn’t want to lie to you but he also didn’t want you to keep allowing him to live in your home out of pity or guilt. He would manage, he would survive, he always did.

“…Blackbeard was talking about retiring, right?”

Izzy felt himself sigh before he heard it. “Sure. Guess he managed it too, in his own way I suppose. Didn’t think retirement was a fucking option. Still not sure it is,” he admitted.

You looked nervous again, aimlessly fixing a cushion on the couch you both sat on. “What if this could be your retirement?”

“What do you mean?” Izzy frowned.

You might have huffed and rolled your eyes at him for being dense but you could see his genuine confusion. “Somewhere peaceful and quiet for you to relax. Good weather. Somewhere comfortable by the sea. Sounds like a good retirement spot to me…”

“I…what are you saying?”

You had to fight the temptation to reach out for him. “I’m saying that maybe you deserve to have a retirement too. Some…some good days without constant worry and fear. Maybe you deserve it and have earnt it just as much as Blackbeard,” you gave into the need, reaching out and placing your hand over his, “and I’m asking if you could have that here, I’m asking if you would stay.”

“You want me to stay…for good?” His face was scrunched up like he was trying to figure out some complicated puzzle. Like he didn’t believe that you could just want him to stay here with you.

“I do,” you nodded like it was as simple as that, because it was. “I’ve lived out here for a long time. Never felt lonely despite the distance I am from town. I think I would be lonely if you left. Think I would miss you. No, I know I would.”

“I don’t need charity,” Izzy growled, pulling his hand away from yours.

It made you ache but you didn’t fight him, didn’t try to touch him again, giving him the space he needed. “I’m not doing you a favour. I just want you here, Izzy. If you want to go, I’ll support you and do whatever I can to help, of course, but I want you to stay.”

Izzy couldn’t argue with you, apparently. He didn’t snap or accuse you of lying, he paused and considered it. Why would you lie? What would you be getting out of this if you were lying?

“…why?”

There was so much you could say, so much you had yet to put into words. But one of the many things you had learnt about Izzy during your time together was that actions spoke louder than words, the care you had shown him had earnt his trust more than anything you had said.

You acted before you could talk yourself out of it.

You shifted closer to him on the couch, placing a hand against his shoulder when you lent in. The kiss you pressed to his lips was short and tender, just enough to express the way you felt.

When you pulled back, hand still on his shoulder, he was just looking at you. The lines on his face softened and lips slightly parted as he blinked at you.

“Will you stay with me, Izzy?” you asked, barely above a whisper.

“Yeah,” Izzy nodded, looking a little stunned but the answer felt right. “Yeah, yes, I will. I want to stay as well.”

You smiled adoringly, lifting your hand from his shoulder to stroke his cheek.

Izzy had woken up in your home thinking he had died out at sea but he knew there was no way that was the case because this couldn’t be his afterlife. He hadn’t done enough good to earn this, you were just giving him this out of the kindness of your heart.

He didn’t know what he did to deserve it, didn’t think he did deserve it, but he was here anyway. Maybe you were right, maybe this could be the next, maybe even the last, phase of his life. He would do whatever he could to earn it now, to earn you and this home.

[caitlinsnicket]

izzy hands sfw headcanons part 2

a/n: part 1 here. part 3 here HAHAHAHA im going lulu (also if you see any mistakes feel free to tell me so

after the loss of his leg, sometimes he might pretend to forget his cane just so he has to lean on you for support. truth is, he hid it under his bed so you would have a harder time finding it and he could spend more time with your arms around him

speaking of leaning, he leans a lot to get a look at you from a lower perspective (not that it's hard, he's not very tall), he leans on your body, on your arms and on your shoulders because he likes your warmth and loves to feel you near him

holds your hand to move around as well, displaying it proudly to the crew and puffing his chest out like a peacock so they know you're together

also tends to get very flushed if you lean on him and hold his hand, looking around expecting a joke, until you distract him with kisses on his cheek

lives for moments where you need comfort. it's not that he likes it when you're feeling bad, but he likes to feel needed for emotional suport, like he's good enough to make you feel better

he loves to feel useful when it comes to you, and so he learns to anticipate your needs and wants. he leaves something light for you to eat on a table on his cabin beside a cup of water, when on land always buys you new clothing pieces that he knows you might need, gets extra blankets in the middle of the night because he knows you might get cold, all that cheesy stuff

he's a romantic at heart

he is very particular about his hair, and has learned how to keep it tidy and practical for his day to day like. however, if you ever ask him to run your hands through it in the middle of the day or to style it in a different way, he'll move like lightning to sit on the ground, head at your hand's level so you can do as you please

his 'disheveled hair' look is probably his hottest too, strands framing his face beautifully, making him look disgruntled and mysterious at the same time. your fingers ache to touch it whenever he's like that

after a while he starts wearing his hair loose (without gel or pomade) more often while on the job, relaxing more and more with his own image

(he still loves his puffy fancy hair though

it's also the softest hair ever. you don't mention it when you notice the many hair care products hidden behind his bathtub, or the different things he uses to keep his hair in place, just as he won't mention it when he notices that you started using them too to smell like him

his favorite thing to do is having his hair taken care of by you. just mark him as yours in as many ways as you can

the curls on the nape of his neck are so endearing and charming it's hard for you to pay attention on anything he's saying. if he notices, he swears at you and walks off, fighting a goofy smile

one day, he decides he's gonna cut his hair short. you are supportive about it, obviously, even if a part of you is dying inside. so he goes out, cuts it and comes back with a glint on his eyes that is so obvious and endearing, as if he's begging you to praise him and call him pretty

and he just looks so nice and tidy and hot (so fucking hot) that you can't help but spend the next hour or so messing with his hair until his legs are wobbly and his mouth is hanging open

his hair ends up being spiked up very often, which makes him look younger and more relaxed. it brings warmth to your heart, and a shy smile to his lips

taking care of him is a tricky job, reserved to you (and fang) on the rare occasions he's too sick to fight back. still, he whines and struggles and cusses the both of you out until he gets too tired to complain anymore and just allows it to happen

feels extremely embarassed and self conscious whenever you feed him soup, but secretely he's vibrating with joy from your attention and care. he can't help but notice how much love is present from your touches and actions, and it makes him feel almost worthy of it

his favorite foods are the ones you cook for him when he's sick. you manage to put so much flavor and affection in it those that sometimes he yearns for a cold or a headache just so you'll cooks him something without him having to ask

he doesn't notice how much better you treat him in comparison to past lovers until jim or fang mention it to him, and he starts watching the things you do for him

it's the little things for him, like the way you neatly fold his clothes after he takes them off, the way there's always a cup of water on the side of his bed in the morning, or how sometimes you'll just remember things that he's mentioned in passing once and buy him a related trinket when you're both on land

he's over the moon and proud of having earned your affections, and will even grin in that manic way that sometimes gets to him

[pandalorian36]

Izzy Hands x (male) reader

A: You're right. I was jealous. B: I know. A: It was foolish. B: It was. A: Must you agree with me all of the time?

Leaning over the bar I grin at the bartender “Two scotches.” the women grins winking “Two scotches coming right up.” She hands me one glass but keeps the other out of reach “The other will cost you your name.” I sigh doing a small mock bow “L/N.” I hold my hand out for the glass, but she doesn’t hand it over leaning on the bar instead flicking her hair over one shoulder “You're pretty cute for a pirate.” I sigh clenching my glass “I’m here with my partner.” She giggles twirling the glass “A pirate who does not wish to dally how odd.” I frown brow furrowing “My drink.” She giggles leaning closer “Am I not pleasing to you?” I scowl “My drink.” She hands it over running a finger down my chest “I’ll be here should you change your mind.”

“Hands off.” I grin taking a step back and sipping from my drink the bartender looks Izzy up and down “What’s your problem?” Izzy scowls “You’re touching my man.” I grin wrapping an arm around his waist “Come on.” He doesn’t budge fists clenching “Iz lets go.” He takes my glass shattering it on the counter at which point I haul him over my shoulder carrying him out while he swears.

“Iz calm down.” I lower him back to the ground glaring “I am calm.” I chuckle “Course you are.” He scowls “I’m fine.” I grin brushing hair out his face “You sure darlin? You’re not jealous?”

“I don’t get jealous.” I grin leaning closer “You sure.”

“I don’t get jealous.” I laugh brushing my lips against his “Sure love. Let’s get back to the ship.” He continues grumbling while we walk making me laugh, I throw my arm around his waist kissing his cheek “Don’t worry love, only got eyes for you.” as we draw nearer to the ship, I pull my arm back crossing them casually behind my back. Ed grins sauntering over “Anything interesting going on in town?” I shake my head going over to Lucius, Jim and Olo sat on the deck playing cards. “Care to join us hot stuff?” I roll my eyes slightly slumping down next to Jim “Lay of Lucius.”

“Merely stating the facts. You really should let me sketch you.” I frown glaring at the dark-haired man “Not going to happen.”

“I think you would make a wonderful model.”

“Lucius drop it.” he smirks “Come on I’ve sketched pretty much everyone at this point. Just one little drawing.” I go to reply when a shadow falls over our group a hand skimming my shoulder gently “What are you all doing?” Pete smiles slightly “Resting, Captain gave us the day off.” Lucius sighs dramatically while pointing at his sketchbook “Y/N won’t let me draw them.” I stand trying to subtly push Izzy backwords “No and I’m not going to change my mind.” Lucius grins standing as well leaning forward “All I am asking is one little drawing. We’ve all seen you working on the rigging.” Izzy tenses while I frown “Lucius, I suggest you drop it.” I turn away managing three steps before Lucius makes a mistake “Anyone else think their butt looks incredible in those trousers.”

I hear a thud then a splash followed by loud clammering from the rest of the crew. Groaning I turn the others gathering around the railing Izzy seething fists balled at his side. Pete is practically over the railing yelling “Lucius? Babe? You, okay?” Fang grips Pete’s waist preventing him from falling over the edge.

Olo and Roach grab the rope ladder lowering it over the side while Pete rounds on Izzy “What the hell? You pushed him.” Izzy scowls “Care to join him?” I sigh grabbing his arm and pulling him away to the other side of the boat “Really Iz? You’ve got to calm down.”

“I am calm.”

“You didn’t need to push him overboard.” He shrugs slightly “Accident.” I roll my eyes sighing “Right an accident. Really Iz, you’re all over the place today.” He scowls glaring over my shoulder at Lucius who is drenched “What the fuck was that for?” Izzy tenses and before he can retaliate, I shove him into the side of the boat hands gripping the front of his jacket while I crash my lips into his. Screw the crew, they need to learn.

Izzy relaxes hands moving to my hips. Grinning I pull away kissing him once more before turning to face the rest of the crew all staring with slack jaws and wide eyes. “Now excuse me I have stores to tidy.” I walk away smirking at Izzy who is looking a little spaced out.

Kneeling down in the storeroom I start sorting through the new barrels and crates a smirk still plastered on my face. Footsteps stomp into the room shortly after which I choose to ignore until he starts speaking.

“You’re right. I was jealous.”

I grin moving another crate “I know.”

“It was foolish.”

I grin standing “It was.”

“Must you agree with me all of the time?”

Chuckling I turn around backing Izzy into the wall “But I am so rarely wrong.” He snorts heat filling his cheeks “So everyone now knows.” I shrug grinning “Just means I can do this when ever I want.” I press my body against his one hand burying in his hair the other on his waist “If this is what happens every time I get jealous, it may happen more often.” Grinning I kiss him again “Just have to prove I’ve only got eyes for you. My grouchy pirate.” He rolls his eyes slightly a soft smile on his face lessening the effect “Whatever.” Laughing I kiss his cheek “I should get back to work. Can’t be slacking in front of the first mate.” He shrugs slightly arms wrapping around my waist “I think your due a break.”

[our-death-means-flag]

Iz Hands x a reader with sensory issues. Mostly with voice though, not much with texture and other things. Reader is a good fighter and shit, much like Blackbeard, but just can't stand the constant yelling and noise. I just feel like it'd be interesting to explore that. Izzy noticing reader flinching or covering their ears when he yells and feeling bad. He wants to help but doesn't know how. Maybe they talk and Izzy realizes how much the noise effects them and is sort of like "How the fuck did you captain a ship before then" but later tries to make them or get the crew to make them something to block out noise. Sort of the 1700s equivalent to noise cancelling headphones.

Quiet

Ship: Izzy Hands x Reader (implied romantic but vague enough to be platonic) Notes: You’re a well known pirate and friend of Ed’s, eager to be along for the ride with this strange new world of his. You're skilled enough that when you suddenly react strangely to Izzy yelling at you. He decides to investigate and then help. Warnings: some descriptions of sensory overload, Izzy being bad at comfort (he’s trying)

Honesty, you’d been doomed to this fate the moment you were on a ship with Izzy yells-as-a-hobby Hands.  The only reason it hadn’t happened already was purely luck. But your luck could only last so long.  

You’d had sensitive hearing your whole life. In all honesty, it was an asset as much as it was a hindrance. After all, no one had  been able to sneak up on you. But most times it was a problem. You never knew why but occasionally sound just became unbearable.  Voices in particular. Sometimes hearing someone yell felt like taking a point blank cannon blast to the head.  Usually you could pretend that none of it bothered you. You had developed an art to hiding your flinches and holding back your reactions during your long and successful pirating career. 

But you couldn’t always manage that.  And currently, you were having an incredibly hard time.

It probably wasn’t actually Izzy that pushed you over the edge. Well, at least not only Izzy. The crew’d had a party the night before to celebrate a really good raid. That alone was a lot. 

And now Izzy was yelling as usual. Your brain was so busy screaming about how loud it was you actually had no idea what he was actually complaining about. Each syllable grated on your mind. You were as tense as a bowstring trying incredibly hard to focus on anything but the sound to no avail. Your hands almost trembled so you let go of the rigging you were trying to redo to try and calm the shaking. 

Everything was so damn loud.

You closed your eyes and tried to focus. No dice. You had to get out of here. 

Loud…

Maybe you could make up a reason? Maybe you could say you were hungover from last night's party? Or maybe you just weren’t feeling well? Though, both of those excuses were liable to get you yelled at by Izzy Hands for slacking off… Shit.

Loud.

Maybe you could escape to the stores? When had anyone done inventory last? Or you could climb up to the crows nest? That might be quieter? Maybe-

If you were not as overwhelmed as you were, you would have definitely heard someone getting closer but now, you only realized when a hand grabbed your arm and spun you around. The suddenness of the action did not help your racing mind. Neither did the fact that Izzy Fucking Hands was currently yelling in your face. Your long suffering composure finally broke and you flinched back, clasping your hands over your ears and pulling away. You felt your back hit the railing and your shoulders shaking from gasping. 

Quiet.

Everything was suddenly quiet.

More so than it would be if you had properly covered your ears. Something was up. You peeked your eyes open and saw the whole crew staring at you, dead quiet. Even Izzy, shockingly, had backed up, looking confused at you.

Shit.

“I-” You managed. “Uh.” You fumbled for words, hands still clasped over your ears. “I’m gonna just go… Yeah.” While everyone was still stunned you booked it, pulling one hand off one of your ears just long enough to open a door and disappear below decks, found a quiet corner and curled up in it. You tried to steady your breathing, hands still covering your ears.

Slowly but surely your mind calmed down. You kept your hands where they were but you were feeling a little less like your head was being ripped in half and your brain finally managed to reboot. You groaned. It had been ages since the last time you slipped up this badly in front of people. At least that time you'd been able to write it off as a symptom of blood loss on account of the hole in your side.  This time? This time, you had no excuse. (Maybe you could go with the ‘pretend to be hungover’ plan and just deal with Izzy’s lecture later…)

Izzy wasn’t able to sneak up on you this time since you weren’t completely out of it. The moment the storeroom door opened you looked over. The moment you noticed him you dropped one of your hands into your lap, trying to play it off like you were leaning your head on the other one. “What do you want?” You tried to imbue your voice with some ‘I’m the captain and you have to listen to me’ energy you usually managed to have but not this time. Your voice came as an exhausted whisper.

Izzy looked very odd, lingering at the door like a nervous shadow. “I-” He started at a slightly louder than speaking noise and you jumped ( your body having apparently completely given up on the fight to stay unnoticed). “I’m sorry… I think.” He finished in a stage whisper.

You raised a brow, both from the strangeness of Izzy being so considerate and the strange phrasing. “You think you’re sorry?” You echoed.

“The boy, Spriggs, said I should apologize.” Izzy elaborated. “Though I’m not sure what for.” A pause. Izzy glanced around and gently closed the door behind him. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”

Your confusion only intensified. This was very odd for him. Sure the apology was stilted and awkward but it seemed genuine. Izzy Hands genuinely apologizing to you… You never thought you’d see the day… He visibly fumbled for more words so you decided to put him out of his misery. “You don’t need to apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong.” 

“Look, I’ll tell everyone that you apologized and everything’s all fine. You don't have to do this. I officially accept your not-really-apology for whatever you said.” You commented, chuckling weakly. “You’re free to ditch me.”

“You don’t know what I said?” Izzy looked genuinely baffled.

You shook your head, pulling both hands away from your ears and letting them fall into your lap. “Not a clue. I couldn’t hear you.”

Izzy tilted his head. The gesture looked so odd on him. “Is there something wrong with your ears? Should I get the doctor?”

“No, no. Nothing’s wrong… Well, if there is something wrong it’s been like that my whole life…” Izzy only looked more confused. You considered for a moment. Eh, fuck it. Might as well… “It’s just a thing that happens with me. Sometimes sounds are just…” You motioned vaguely with your hands. “Too loud. Just the yelling and all the noise makes it hard to think.”

“You can’t handle noise?” Izzy asked, still looking disbelieving. You nodded. “Then how the fuck did you captain a ship?” He was clearly still making an attempt to be quiet so his words came out as more of a hiss than a yell.

You shrugged. “I got good at pretending it didn’t bother me. When I was a captain, I could stay in my cabin and avoid most of the noise. Can’t exactly do that anymore, can I?”

“Pretending? So it always bothers you?” 

You nodded. “Yup. Sometimes it’s just too much. With yesterday’s raid and the party… I guess it was a bit much for me. Everything was just too loud. Pretty pathetic huh?” You laughed lightly at yourself. Of course Izzy was going to have a fit over you ditching work for something so stupid.

“Impressive actually.” Izzy stated bluntly 

You did a double take. “What?” If it was supposed to be sarcastic then it was delivered wrong. 

Izzy seemed surprised at your surprise. “What? You work through all that.” You weren’t convinced. Izzy sighed. “You work on a ship full of idiots who won’t do their damn jobs even if you served it to them on one of Bonnet’s stupid fancy plates, and you work through all that shit?”

You couldn’t help the smile. “Was that a compliment you just gave me?” You chuckled. “Who are you and what have you done with Izzy?”

The man rolled his eyes. “Oh fuck off.” His voice was still soft. “Does anyone know?”

You shook your head. “Nope. It’s too easy to exploit in a fight. Don't want to risk it.”

“Not even Ed?”

“No, I think he knows there’s something with me and sound. He’s observant enough but I never told him.” Sure you and Ed had been kind of friends before, for a long time too but before the Revenge, the idea of being allowed to be that vulnerable (even around someone you trusted with your life) felt wrong.  Izzy seemed weirdly stoic for a moment. You wondered how he felt, knowing a secret his captain didn’t. “You can tell him if you’d like. I’m not going to ask you to keep a secret from your captain.” You knew how Izzy’s loyalties lied between you and Ed, but you still didn’t want to put Izzy in an uncomfortable situation because of your screw up.

A moment passed in comfortable silence and you stretched and stood. “Well, back to it…” Izzy held up a hand to stop you from leaving. “What?”

“You’re taking the rest of the day off.” You could tell he meant it as an order even though his voice was still soft. 

“No, no. I can get back to work.” He stared. “Seriously I’m fine. I’ve worked through this sort of thing before.”

Izzy huffed and for a moment you thought he was going to back down but instead. “Take the day off. That’s an order from your first mate.”

You sighed. You weren’t winning this. “You got it, first mate Hands. Don’t hesitate to get me if anything comes up.” He nodded curtly but you doubted he’d get you for anything short of an emergency.  You walked out into the hall towards your cabin. “Also, thank you.” You called over your shoulder. “It was nice of you to come by to check on me, even if it was under duress.” 

“I will take your break back.” Izzy grumbled but you knew it was an empty threat. He’d had to convince you to take the break after all. 

You chuckled. “See you around!”

The day after what you were mentally calling ‘the incident ‘ you came on deck to find nothing unusual. It was quiet, as it usually was. Even back when you were a captain, you always came up on deck early. It was calm and you could get a lot of work done. You waved at Izzy when you came on deck. He returned the wave (after looking behind himself as if he assumed you were waving to someone else).

As the day continued the crew slowly trickled awake. Quite a few people asked if you were “feeling better”. Apparently, Izzy had told everyone you’d had a headache (Sans Ed of course, you caught the slightly concerned looks he gave so, you gave him a thumbs up in return). As soon as the crew was on deck you were already bracing yourself for more yelling. It didn’t take long for someone to piss Izzy off enough. You could see Izzy gearing up for a yelling match while Wee John and Frenchie seemed unimpressed and you were already mentally preparing for the sound. 

It didn’t come.

You heard Izzy instead hiss out a cold “Wait.” at barely above a whisper. Whether it was the unusualness of it all or the serious tone of his voice, they listened. Izzy quickly made his way across the deck to stand at your side. You raised a brow in silent confusion. “Cover your ears.” He mumbled, clearly making an attempt to be quiet. It was strange but you humored him, curious as to what was going on.

As soon as your hands were covering your ears Izzy went back to where he was standing and (after confirming one last time that you had your ears covered) went straight into yelling. 

Huh.

You assumed he'd drop it after a bit. He was just giving you time to recover. That didn’t happen. Instead it became a part of Izzy’s usual routine. When he was going to start yelling, he'd always let you know, at first he had to run up to you, then later all it took was a glance. The heads up did help quite a bit. 

Of course you couldn’t always cover your ears. Whenever you had your hands full and couldn’t do what the two of you usually did, Izzy would instead switch to whispering his threats, grabbing whoever he was talking to and pulling them close.

“They respond better to it as well.” Izzy confided to you one morning, both of you leaning against the railing, drinking coffee and relaxing after a successful raid.. 

You grinned. “I’ve used that strategy for ages. You’d be surprised how intimidating whispering can be.”

Izzy chuckled lightly. After that he stayed quiet for a long moment. You raised a brow. You could tell he was trying to figure out how to bring something up. You decided to stay quiet and let him organize his thoughts.

You were rewarded for your patience by a jumpscare as Izzy just awkwardly shoved something into your arms. You looked down to see you were holding a box? You looked back at him and raised a brow. “It’s a very nice box…” You commented somewhat cheekily.

Izzy was doing a really good job at not looking at you. His face even looked a little flushed. “Piss off. Just open the damn box before I toss it into the damn ocean.” He mumbled. His tone was nowhere near as harsh as usual. 

You smiled, gently opening the box. Inside were a bunch of small pieces of… You picked one up. It was malleable in your hand. Wax. It was some kind of wax. 

“They're earplugs. Apparently they’re for your ears.” Izzy stated bluntly, answering your unasked question.

“In what way?”

Izzy sighed, seemingly unsure of himself. “You put them in your ears. Got them on the raid. Had a very well stocked clinic.” You nodded, you remembered Roach being excited about it all. “Willing to bet half of that shit was some kind of experimental treatment. Not even Bonnet knew all of them so it’s not just fancy. Saw the surgeon’s log. Apparently they’re designed to protect a soldier's ears when they’re fighting.”

“And you grabbed these for me?” You asked, already smiling, you pulled two pieces out and pocketed the box.

Izzy flushed more. “I- Well…I  thought they’d be most useful to you. So…”

“Thank you.” You placed a hand on his shoulder, you felt the flinch even as he tried to play it off. You immediately moved to pull away but Izzy moved his arm slightly as if to follow so you left your hand there. You’d been working the wax in your hand so it was already soft enough to try. You gently placed one into your ear, switching the hand on Izzy’s shoulder to put in the other. 

It actually… Kind of worked.

“I think they work… Izzy, could you yell for a bit.” Izzy chuckled at the request but he did step back a bit and shout. You could hear him well enough that you knew he was calling your name but the sound wasn’t overpowering like it normally was.

“Holy shit.” You whispered. 

Izzy was quick to rush to your side. “Are you alright? Did it work? I-”

You cut him off by placing a hand on both his shoulders and pulling him into a hug. He fumbled for a moment then shivered but clung to you almost desperately.

“Thank you Izzy. Seriously. It means a lot to me.” You whispered.

As close as you were, you could hear Izzy’s soft, “Of course. I’m glad they help you.” 

You had a few minutes before the crew would come on deck. So you closed your eyes, enjoyed the quiet and stayed where you were until then.

[letsdeerintheheadlightsuniverse]

<<Previous Chapter <<

**Masterlist**

>>Next Chapter>>

Pairing: Izzy Hands x gn!reader

Synopsis: The fallout from the storm leaves more answers than questions for the crew, as they do their best to heal from wounds past, present and future.

A/N: Hiiiiiiii, besties! Chapter 5 is officially here! Whoop whoop! Who's ready to board the Angst express? Also, Happy Easter!

Content Warning: Knives, mention of injuries, trauma, sensory overload, mentions of drowning and blood. I think that's everything. This series is 18+, so minors dni. Go away (politely).

DISCLAIMER: PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, REPUBLISH, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT PERMISSION. I DO NOT OWN OFMD OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

=============================

She watched as the ship came rolling in. A flurry of activity upon the main deck, as the anchor was dropped, and a plank lowered to connect the boatside and port. Something was wrong- she could sense it. Usually when the Revenge paid a visit to the Republic of Pirates, there was a certain frisson of excitement and promise of good times. This time around, the crew's calls were not sentiments of hopeful anticipation but anxious haste to disembark.

Spanish Jackie's eyes narrowed, as she spied upon the weary form of one Oluwande, supporting an equally worn out Jim and Archie. Damn, she had never seen them looking for forlorn and exhausted. Sure, pirating was not the most glamouroud of professions but cuts, bruises and...what even was that staining their clothes? Yeah, the trio had seen better days, that was for sure. "What the fuck happened?" the bar owner forgo her usual greeting, demanding to know what the hell was going on.

Oluwande regarded the business woman with a look of pure reluctance. He was tired- no, scratch that- he was bone-achingly, soul-wearily exhausted, to the point where talking felt like a curse and a chore. Every fibre of his very being was screaming in unison for him to collapse upon the ground and become one with the dirt. Ashes to ashes, dust to dust and all that jazz.  "Ship got caught in a storm."

"Any casualties?"

It only happened occasionally but there were times when Oluwande would get overwhelmed and it was like something in his brain switched off, needing to go on standby for a while, until he felt more settled and assured. His partners were aware of the main triggers that would induce a sensory overload. Things like a cacophony of clashing ambient sounds or extreme exhaustion would prompt him to remain silent for a while.

It had never really phased Jim, Archie- and when she was visiting- Zheng. As soon as he had explained it to them, their only main concern was making sure Oluwande felt supported during those periods of quiet. Whether it was finding him a safe space to decompress or making sure he got enough rest- the great loves of his life always endeavoured make sure his needs were met.

Sensing their partner's increasing distress at having to be verbal, Archie quickly spoke in Oluwande's place. "We're bringing them out now. Is there a doctor nearby?" the grateful upturning of his lips confirmed her suspicions. Always happy to help, the pirate have him a gentle squeeze around the shoulders.

"Yeah, yeah...Oi, you! Yeah, you!" Jackie called out to one of her many husbands. How she kept track of them all was anyone's guess but damn, Archie was impressed. The lady had mad game. If the pirate weren't so burnt out, she might have been even more impressed byt in the particular moment, she just wanted a comfortable seat and a warm meal. "Send the doctor to the local Inn. Tell him he's gonna have a real busy fucking morning. Oh and that The Genital Pirate will be paying!" like hell was Jackie going to foot what was going to undoubtedly be one expensive bill. She knew Stede was loaded but hopefully he had enough coin in that silk purse of his to pay the handsome fare.

Jackie's attention refocused when she caught sight of Swede supporting Blackbeard's right hand man. Damn, did every single member of the Revenge look equally as haggard? "Fuuuuck, you look like you've seen better days." Izzy could not bring himself to respond with his usual sharpness. Gods, he felt as fucking wonderful as he looked. The rescue mission had been an absolute nightmare. So many collective moments of thinking, 'this is it, this is how I go', that amounted to finally pulling Pete's unconscious body from the watery depths. It was a miracle that the First Hand himself had not drowned. In all honesty, Izzy could not decide which was worse, this storm or the night he lost his leg. "Wow, must be bad if you aren't even telling me to 'fuck off'."

The sound of more footsteps took the spotlight off of the weary First Mate, who was glad to have Jackie's attention directed elsewhere. In that moment, the silver-haired pirate allowed himself a moment of weakness to lean upon Swede more than he generally would have done, under different circumstances. But he was tired. Tired of always having to be capable and strong fir those around him. It was quite nice having someone support him for a change.

The charismatic business woman offered her signature wolf-like grin at the two co-captains, who had finally made their way to shore. No obvious wounds to be seen upon their persons, she noted, wondering who it was out of the cohort whom required such urgent care. "Eddie. Hello, Stede. So, a storm, huh?"

A storm, yeah. Some storm, Stede thought, as he felt Ed's grip around his waist tighten at the mere metion of what they has all just survived. Before the blonde could even open his mouth to give a retort, his lover beat him to the punch with a bitter laugh. "If you could call it that. Felt more like a trip to fucking Hell."

"Heard you got some injuries..." the words died, as she and the rest of the waiting crew, moved to let Fang and Roach carry the first of several makeshift gurneys up the hill. "Oh, shit."

"Yeah. 'Oh, shit'." Ed muttered, watching was a solemn gaze, as the body was carried into the nearby Inn.

"That's a lotta fucking blood."

====

Perhaps they should have washed up before sitting down in the Inn's small dining area. Well, if you could really call it that. It was more of a gloried room with a few tables and chairs. Still, the plates of cheese and bread were more gratefully recieved by the famished pirates, who could barely recollect when they had last eaten. What day was it even? The storm had felt like it had lasted an eternity.

"There was so much blood." Wee John commented, as he bit into another piece of bread. It was almost inedibly dry but thankfully, the cold pitcher of water, in the middle of the table, solved such issues.

Swede nodded with mild enthusiasm. He did not mind the bread's texture so much, having eaten some truly horrific meals during his time at sea. However, the cheese. Oh, the cheese. It was chalky in texture. The blonde was not aware that cheese could be so powdery. "So much. Maybe even too much?"

"I didn't even realise a person could bleed that much." yeah, no. The cheese was actually worse than the bread, John decided, pushing away his plate in disgust.

"Surely that was an abnormal amount of blood, right?"

Whilst Roach was the most seasoned out of them all when it came to seeing blood...and severed body parts, even he had to admit, it had been an alarming amount of...red. "Yeah, that's gotta be some witchcraft or something. People don't bleed that much." he blamed the fairies. Yeah, it was the fairies fault for sure. They must have been displeased with his offering of thanks, after they made the bread rise.  and cursed the ship with their fairy magic. That was the only logical answer.

Also, the bread at the Inn really was fucking disgusting.

====

It felt almost sickeningly self-indulgent to allow someone so intrinsically well-meaning to tend to such a wretched soul as he and yet, Ed could not bring himself to push away Stede's gentle touch. In fact, the once gruesome legend found himself leaning into the tender caresses. Despite the apparent care he was receiving, Ed could not quieten his racing thoughts. No matter how much he proverbially tried to smother the insidious voice,  that whispered vile realities, from the recesses of his mind. "Fuck." he cursed, as his lover carded his fingers through the silvery tresses. "This is bad, Stede."

The Gentleman Pirate faltered in his ministrations, knowing full well that Ed was not referring to his loving gestures. "I know." there was a graveness that tinged his tone, confirming all of Ed's most intimate fears. If happy-go-lucky Stede Bonnet thought the situation was dire, then Ed was well and truly fucked.

"The crew's gonna blame me for everything, you know?"

He did not want to agree. Oh, how he did not want to but despite his whim-prone ways, Stede knew that they both had to be realistic about the given situation. It would be a fool's error to assune that everything was okay with the crew, that things would magically go back to the way there were and a few weeks time, the Revenge would set sail once more. "I do."

"And they've gotta point. If I hadn't royally fucked them all up during the last storm, we'd've had all hands on deck. And..." the question tasted bitter on his tongue, souring the lingering taste of all the sweetest kisses they had ever shared. Ed knew that Stede's answer had the potential to break his heart into a million pieces but as a suckered for punishment, the pirate had to know his lover's honest opinion. "Do...do you blame me?"

Moving to stand between his lover's legs, Stede gently tucked a loose strand of hair behind Ed's ear, noting just how defeated his boyfriend looked. That would just not do, he thought. "Honestly? No, no I don't." the co-captain's attempt at a smile was strained at best but still, it allowed sone light to encroach on the heaviness that dwelled within Ed's heart. Stede Bonnet, the Gentleman Pirate, truly was a lighthouse to the once lost soul. "In fact, I blame myself. I underestimated how deeply traumatised the crew was. So, if anyone is to blame, it's me."

What, no! No, no, that did not make any sense to the silver-haired pirate. No, he and he alone was to blame. How could some so...so good and loving as Stede be to blame for the atrocities caused in the name of Blackbeard? "But they wouldn't have been traumatised if I hadn't-"

As much as Stede was usually a firm believer in talking things through as a crew, he also was well-versed in the thought pattern of his fretting amour. Such a conversation could go round and round in circles for hours, if he did not shock the man into breaking the spiralling of his mind. Nothing too drastic, just enough to snap him out of the self-loathing and bring him back to the present moment. A tender kiss was often the best option for such a task. It was short, sweet. No taking, only giving. Providing comfort and a promise of unconditional love.

Pulling back after a beat, Stede kept his forehead pressed against Ed's, savouring the closeness and allowing the pirate the option to lean in for another, should he crave such a thing. "Guess we'll just have to be co-blamed, hmm?" Stede whispered, offering another freely given smile. This time, it felt more genuine. Easier. Almost as easy as breathing.

And with that, Ed tugged the

Gentleman Pirate closer into his encircled hold, until the blonde was situated on his lap, needing him to be as near as physcially possible. "I needed that." the silver-haired man mumbled, as he buried his face  against the drenched fabric of Stede's shirt.

The once pristine material was tainted with...he did not even know who's blood it was. All he had witnessed was the bloody aftermath in the hold, before he ordered Buttons to clean what he could and leave the rest for the repairmen to  deal with. The familiar iron scent overwhelming Ed's senses. Man, the stench of decay transported him back to that unwelcome memory of when the night the Kraken was truly purged from existence...

====

"Did you see his face?" the mystic questioned his drinking buddy, as they sat side by side, outside in the pleasant warmth.

Though he preferred the silvery light of the divine moon, Buttons could certainly appreciate all that the sun had to offer. The basking rays of golden splendor were a much welcome gift from Mother Nature, after the heavy downpour of the previous days. It was too nice a day to be stuck inside. Plus, someone had to pay mind to the crew's clothes, as they dried outside on the line.

"Who's face?" Fang questioned, as he took another swig from the bottle he had brought from Spanish Jackie. Though his usual preference was rum, the fresh orange juice was definitely a nice change of pace. Good for you too, he thought, savouring the sweet, citrus flavour.

He was thankful to be able to experience something as simple as drinking juice from a bottle. After the events of the storm, he had been so sure that none of the Revenge's crew would live to see another day, let alone taste an orange. It was terrifying to even pause and consider how close to death they had been only a mere twenty four hours ago.

No, no, enough of that, the pirate chided himself, as the tell-tale sting of tears threatened to blur his vision. He was safe now. They were all safe. Well, most were safe, Fang thought glumly, remembering how all good cheer for surviving the beast of a storm, had instantly been snuffed out at the emerging form of Captain Stede. Damn, there had been so much blood.

Fang was well-versed at witnessing so much gore but outside of a raid environment, the sight had turned his stomach. He had fight back the waves of nausea, that threatened to cause bile to spill past his lips. Thankfully, no such incident had occurred. The last thing the pirate needed was a vomit-inspired nickname.

"Izzy's."

"No."

"Looked like he'd seen a ghost."

Were Izzy sat with them now, he would have undoubtedly told the pair to 'shut the fuck up' but the First Mate was nowhere in sight. In fact, Fang could not recall when he had last seen the other pirate. He assumed that, like the rest of the crew, Izzy had locked himself away in one of the many rooms but now that he pondered on it more, had Fang caught sight of Izzy following in tow, as your body had been carried off the ship? Perhaps he was by your side right now. Fang liked the idea of that better, than Izzy being holed away in some dingy space, with only a bottle for comfort. He also liked the prospect of you being kept company.

"Probably has." Buttons continued, his gaze scanning the nearby shoreline. On the horizon, you could easily spot the Revenge, in all her damaged glory. Once a proud vessel, now a shell of her former self. "The ship'll be haunted now, for sure. No way anyone can survive bleeding that much and live to tell the tale." he added gravely.

====

"What's the damage?" the once fearsome First Mate asked, as he sank into a nearby armchair opposite the lengendary- oh, who was he kidding, it was fucking Edward, for goodness sake- who was busy doing fuck all but getting lost in his spiralling thoughts.

Pouring his new companion an equally large dose of rum into a secondary glass, which had been meant for Stede but he was off somewhere, talking to the doctor about an update. "Multiple crew injuries, a damaged ship and a potential mutiny on our hands." he rattled off the list as if it merely contained supplies needed for the crew.

At the sound of the word 'mutiny', Izzy could no suppress his scoff. After everything that had happened, the pirate highly doubted that the shipmates of the Revenge were even thinking about rebelling against their co-captain. If anything, their main focus would probably be getting a change of clothes, food and getting absolutely stinking pissed in their rooms. Hell, that was all that Izzy had planned his agenda that evening. In fact, a glass of this poorly aged rum was a good start. Downing the drink in one go, he savoured the familiar burn, as it warmed his throat and chest. Urgh, it was truly disgusting. Had the owners watered it down? "The crew actually mentioned anything about kicking off, or are you just being a narcissistic prick?"

"Izzy..." Ed all but begged for the man to take him seriously. Emotions amongst the crew were surely running high and once the option of a mutiny entered their minds, the idea would spread like wildfire, burning through everything he and Stede had fought so hard to build together, leaving in it's smoldering wake nothing but ash and potentially, his charred corpse.

"Look," "I'll keep my ear to the ground, see if I hear any actual rumblings, okay?"

"Thank you."

"Twat."

"Have you been to see them?"

"Don't-" during his time on the rocky waves, he had been thankful that you were at least safe in the hold and not there to witness both the demise of him and your friend. If only he had known what was really afoot in the hold, Izzy would have kept you by his side. Hell, he would have left the crew to their own fucking devices- storm be damned- and kept you hidden from sight in the safety of his cabin. "I can't...not with you. Not right now, Edward. I..." the uncharacteristic break in his voice caught his lifelong companion by surprise.

Ed knew how much Izzy cared about you. For fucks sake, the man was not as subtle as he thought he was when it came to his pining. However, Ed could list on one hand the amount of times he had witnessed the First Mate's stoic mask crack under the pressure of intense emotion. It felt almost blasphemous to pay witness to the glassiness, that built up in Izzy's eyes, as the silver-haired pirate tried his damned hardest to not breakdown right there and then. "I'm not blaming you but-" a gloved hand came to settle over his mouth, as a sob ripped through his body.

Gods, it was just one nightmare after another. But you. Oh, you. Just the mere recollection of your body being bundled onto a makeshift gurney and carried past the crew, as they stood in horrified silence on the hill, was sure to haunt Izzy for the rest of his wretched days. And Izzy could not even blame Frenchie for what had happened. The poor bastard had been lost in a hallucination, caused by unresolved trauma. Had he been in control of his mind, there was no doubt that the young man would never have dreamed of injuring you- accident or otherwise. "you might as well have been the one to put the knife in his hand." he all but whined, sounding as broken as he felt.

"Iz, I'm-"

"No. No, I don't want to hear it. Fuck your apology, Edward." he meant every word. Izzy did not want Ed to feel any worser than he already did. Isreal Hands was many things but he was not vindictive. Well, he was not feeling vindictive at that particular moment. Calm him soft but sailing the seven seas with Bonnet's ragtag group of misfits had shown the First Hand an alternative life to being a pirate. One full of love and a found family. While Izzy could still be hurtful with his words, he was trying so desperately to be better. Anything for those he loved. Had he not promised the exact same thing to you? "I'm at fault too." but before Ed could even dare to interrupt with a protest, the silver-haired pirate was quick to shake his head. Roughly drying his tears, Izzy delivered one last line to his captain, "I fed your fucking darkness back then. Let them blame me too."

Let (y/n) hate me too, it's what I deserve, Izzy thought, as he downed the rest of the glass and stood to make his exit, wanting nothing more now than to get blind drunk on whatever disgusting excuse for rum the inn could offer.

====

"I'm not saying I blame him completely. I'm just saying it's his fault." Jim whispered to her partner, as the sat outside the door to their shared room. Oluwande was inside decompressing after his sensory overload and while the two pirates knew he needed space, they felt more assured remaining at least in the hallway, should he need anything.

It felt good, Archie thought, as they took a bite of the cheese Wee John had brought up for them to share, to be able to rest for a moment. After everything that had happened, it was a miracle that they had survived the storm. What a blessing it was to be able to sit beside their partner, share food and even breathe the same air. When quite frankly, they should have all been sleeping with the fishes. "Completely, yeah and I hear you, babe. It's just that- you know- if Izzy hadn't poked the bear-"

"Oh, no. Totally. The guy fucked us all over." Jim agreed half-heartedly. It was not anything personal to Archie. Usually, the pirate would be all for talking things through. However, it had gotten to a point in the day where, they felt unable to really process any more information, let alone mentally dissect the thought pattern of another person. So, whilst they were not fully engaged in the conversation, Jim recognised that Archie obviously needed a sounding board while the worked through some things. And, hey, once Oluwande was awake, he could take their place, while they got some much needed rest.

Taking another bite, they ruminated over the chalky consistency of the cheese. Yeah, there was something  definitely not quite right with it. After one more testing bite, it was then they realised that the kind gesture had not been all that kind. Wee John had proffered bad cheese on them! That bastard...

The more Archie considered the gravity of the situation, the more she found herself not being able to completely cast the blame onto the First Mate.

So much had happened during the Kraken era. So many horrible, terrible, unforgivable things. And yet, she knew that deep down, things could have been so much worse. There were times when they had been so sure that Blackbeard was going to punish them for something but the cut of a knife never came. There was no barrel of a pistol to stare down. Archie had always considered those moments to be based on pure luck or prayers answered by the snake god, Manasa. Knowing what she did now, the pirate realised that it had been Izzy taking the fall for their shortcomings. He was not a guardian angel by any means but credit was given where credit was due, the guy had suffered for his infatuation with the lethal myth. His anatomical sacrifices had saved their lives on more than one occasion. "I guess he did kinda pay the price by losing his leg."

====

"We've managed to stabilise them. It'll be a bit touch and go over the next few days but right now, we're optimistic for a full recovery." the doctor explained in a hushed tone, as he and the co-captain lingered outside his patient's door.

A sigh he had not been aware he was holding, escaped his lips. Okay, that was something, right? They could work with 'touch and go'. The battle was not over yet, at least. There was still hope. "That's...that's really great news. Thank you for all your hard work. Myself and the crew really appreciate all your efforts."

"I'd recommend in the meantime, minimal visitors. Only people they're closest to on the ship, that kind of thing. Just while we're monitoring things." at the mere mention of visitors, Stede was already knew who should have be first in line to pay the patient a visit. The only question was, were they sober enough to sit by the bedside without throwing up everywhere? He highly doubted it. The last he had seen of the other man, he had been clutching a bottle tightly to his chest, as he made his way up the stairs and to hide away in his room.

"Of course, I'll let everyone know."

"One last thing, Jackie did mention that you'd be footing the bill."

"Ah, yes. Of course." the blonde dare not think about the extortionate amount that the doctor was about to charge him. Still, the gentleman had at least stabilised any serious wounds, so Stede supposed he did deserve some coin. "Let me get my purse."

====

With your fight or flight insticts in overdrive, the sound of the door opening, had caused you to reach for the knife you kept concealed under a nearby pillow. The pirate would have assumed that following your plight in the hold, you would have been unsteady upon your feet and yet, you moved at an surprising speed. In the blink of an eye, you had abandoned your post on the bed and had the serrated edge of the blade pressed against his throat.

If anyone else had dared to attempt such an act, they surely would have been impaled on their own weapon but with you, the silver-haired pirate, fought tooth and nail to keep his insticts at bay. He let you slowly regain your sense and return to yourself, as you blinked a few times. Whatever fear plagued your mind, slowly lifted, allowing you to recognise your surroundings and not deem the man before you as a threat.

The blade clattered to the floor, as you arm dropped to your side. You supposed this was the moment you were meant to feel shame for having threatened the life of the man you called co-captain and yet, you felt nothing. No emotions bubbled to the surface. All that remained, in the wake of your momentary lapse of mental control, was a much-welcomed numbness, that sat heavy as a stone within the center of your sternum. The feeling of nothing was far better preferred to the overwhelming waves of grief and terror, that had previously coursed through your veins.

Ed's gaze momentarily broke your intense eye contact, to survey the discarded knife. Only then did he notice the tarnished metal. Crimson coated it's exterior and while he could not be fully certain that it was not your blood, that adorned the crude metalwork, there was not doubt in his mind that, this was the same weapon that Frenchie had brandished in the storage hold. The Captain had his suspicions as to why you had kept it in your possession but such thoughts would have to remain entirely his own, until you were suitably taken care of.

You watched the man warily, as he bent to pick up the knife. Despite the tensing of your muscles, he did not pay your on edge disposition any mind, while he took his time to place the blade upon the modest writing desk. Ed was conscious to keep his movements steady- no sudden gestures, nothing to spook you in your heightened state of alert.

With the knife out of harm's way, his attention zoned in once more on you, as you stood just a few feet away, anxiously wringing your hands, as if you expected something foul to befell you, now that you were without your trusty blade.

Despite your fears, your demeanour softened a fraction, when the once fearsome myth of a man offered you a rare smile. It was small. Hell, barely even noticeable to the untrained eye but you spotted it all the same. It was a gesture meant to comfort, to put you at ease and well, whilst your nerves remained frayed, you could not deny that, his presence was more than welcome in that cramped space of yours. Company served as a distraction from the intrusive memory of your time in the storage held.

He dared to take a step towards you, and then another, when you did not cringe away from his approach. Edcarefully watched you for any subtle changes to your physical appearance. From the rise and fall of your chest, to the wide-eyed stare- any discernible flicker of your trepidation rising by even a fraction, he would back away. All he wanted was to help you feel more like yourself again, not worsen your mental and physical stare further.

Toe to toe, you now stood. So close in fact, you could feel the much welcomed heat radiating from his leather clad body. Perhaps you should have listened to the adrenaline-fuelled alarm bells that screamed in your head, as you allowed the pirate to take your hand in his but there was something about his gentle touch, that kept you rooted firmly to the spot. He turned your hand to be palm up, as he examined the crude, jagged line, that marred the skin from the base of your digits, to the crook of your elbow. Really, it should have been cleaned and bandaged hours ago by the doctor. Roach had tried his best but your hysteria had prevented any actual medical intervention. Now that it was just you and Ed, alone in some random room at the inn, you finally became aware of how painful and itchy the wound felt.

You winced, as his ran a thumb along the inflamed skin, noting the budding infection that bloomed beneath the damaged surface. You could have sworn you had heard him mumble a quiet, "Sorry." Though, in your current state, it could have just been your mind playing tricks on you. "You have two choices." he suddenly stated, interrupting the stifling silence that had sat heavily in the atmosphere. "Get cleaned up and then have the doctor take a look at this." Ed explained concisely, carefully letting your arm drop to your side. "Or you can see the doctor now and we'll get you cleaned up later." his arms roamed over your shirt. The once pristine (colour choice) was now completely ruined by the nauseating dark red, that now saturated most of the cloth. Ed doubted that it was your arm that had caused such monumental stain.

The overwhelming sense of guilt reared it's ugly head, as the pirate felt the familiar tug of sorrow pull at his heart strings. To hell with what Izzy had said, this was his fault and his alone, Ed thought, blaming himself for the precarious predicaments of his crew's wellbeing. Izzy may have instigated his bad behaviour all those many moons ago but Ed had allowed himself to thrive in the darkness and pain of Blackbeard. This was all his doing but by the grace of Calypso, he was going to make amends. Anything and everything to make his crew feel whole and mentally stable once more. Starting with you. "So, what'll it be, (y/l/n)?"

=============================

A/N: It's your choice, dear reader, what would you prefer- get cleaned up first and then see the doctor or vice versa? Chime off in the comments or vote in the poll here and I'll write whichever decision gets the most votes.

P.S. oh, just one more thing, either choice will completely change the trajectory of the story. So, pick wisely!

[gwendolinehb]

I need more fanfic with this man���🏽😩

[maximwtf]

 “What kind of a moron gets shot…”

Izzy x Reader

words: 1970

google docs pages: 3,5

warnings: blood, a gunshot wound, slight alcohol use

opening: A medic, you get shot in a crossfire. It’s only after things have settled a little that anyone has time to notice you. No one but you are used to removing bullets, so obviously the crew chose the next most experienced pirate to help you with your instructions. Izzy. 

AN// Reader can be any gender! I finally started watching this series, after putting it off for so long and oh my god do I love this man more than life itself. I would die for him. Anyway, sorry if this is a little ooc, I’m learning how to write for him ! Requests for him would also be lovely, I have so many ideas that I don’t even know what to write :D

 “What kind of a moron gets shot…”

The feeling of rain hitting your face kept you to your senses, additional moisture to the already wet wooden deck you were laying on. At least you had made it back, but that did not remove the fact that someone from the other ship had gotten a good shot at your thigh. For that reason, you didn't mind the wet fabric sticking to your skin. The waves of pain radiating from your thigh were enough to keep your mind from thinking of anything else. 

Your body curled up a little, hands going to hold the place of the wound on their own, or at least that’s what it had felt like. Like your body was moving on its own. There wasn’t much of a thought process happening in your mind, though it felt like you should have known what to do. You’d removed more than one bullet in your time, and it wasn’t a rare procedure to perform for you. But never could have you guessed the amount of pain a bullet wound caused. You’d only ever helped someone else and seen them try their best to stay still for your sake. As much as you had hoped these thoughts would have distracted you from the pain, they didn’t. The pain was still raging, making you groan and grunt silently against the deck. Or at least what you thought had been quietly up until voices became audible around you. They’d been there before as well, but they’d become somehow louder by now. Like the people that sounded further away were now closer. The crew must have noticed something was wrong.

You opened your eyes, still curled up on the deck. Most of the crew were there, standing near you. From your perspective and what was left of your vision, they seemed concerned. But probably rightly so. Most of them had become quiet, only light chatter among them. “Well, fucking someone help me.” You growled, allowing the words to come out and going back to gritting your teeth straight after. The chatter got louder for a moment before someone was pushed out from the group. By the sound of his voice, you identified him quite easily. The first mate of Blackbeard’s, Izzy. He did not sound keen on doing this, insisting for someone else to do it before accepting his fate. But you and mostly everyone else in the crew seemed to agree on him being the most experienced for this, after you. 

You knew their first idea would have been to just cut off the whole leg, but for the amount of times you’d helped them you were hoping they’d see this as owing it to you and actually helping.

Your vision was getting a little more blurry, not badly but enough to make things a lot more confusing. You tried to keep a straight head, knowing you’d have to assist Izzy while he got the bullet out. While these thoughts were running through your mind, two of the crew members of which you hadn’t seen who carried your form to the lower decks. No more of the rain, you thought. They cleared a table, and by the sound of it they must have just sweeped the items on it to the floor and placed you on the smooth surface instead. 

There was a moment of silence before through your haze you could hear Izzy’s voice clearly. “Well, fuck off? No need for an audience.” He said, and by the sound of it the people previously there made their way back up. “Cut the…the pant leg.” You said, not wanting to waste any more time. Izzy looked at you, doing as you said but with slight hesitation. “How does a medic manage to get shot?” The first man asked in a voice you wanted to believe was annoyance, trying not to find a hint of worry from his voice. You didn’t want to imagine a man worried for your life trying to save it. “Guess the bullets couldn’t resist a…a checkup.” You took a quick breath, gritting your teeth as the fabric was pulled off from over the wound. Izzy didn’t say anything to that, perhaps it had been a bad time to joke either way. You didn’t have time to waste, for anything from the bullet could leak to your bloodstream if you kept stalling. “T-take off yer belt-” You had to take a breather before continuing, but that was enough for Izzy to give you a dirty look, which you were glad you couldn’t see properly through the slight blur. “And wrap it a little higher from the wound…” You finished the sentence, trying to stay still on the table. “Gathered that much.” He said, voice still stern as he undid his belt and wrapped it tightly around your thigh. “Get yer knife…and dig..dig the bastard out.” You breathed out, closing your eyes for a moment as you braced yourself for what was about to come. 

The sound of Izzy taking out a knife from his belt opened your eyes once more. You took a weak hold of his wrist before the first mate was able to start the process. “If I lose consciousness after…take the fabric you removed and..and use it to close up the wound after cleaning with rum…” You instructed him before your hand let loose from his wrist. His eyes were on you, you could feel it. Yet, he did not say a word. It worried you, but you didn’t want to tell him that. You wanted to think that he didn’t care. As many times as you had spent time with him, he did not care for you. Maybe, just maybe, he enjoyed talking to you from time to time. 

You took a hold of the edge of the table, which was worth it. Because as soon as Izzy had dug the knife into the wound you screeched. Using the palm of your hand to cover the rest of the horrendous noises leaving you, feeling hot tears push their way through and fall down the sides of your face. The gritting of your teeth helped, somewhat. The feeling of the blade hitting the bullet sent a mix of shivers along with waves of pain through your body.

You tolerated it for a while, in a way proud of yourself for that, this being the first time a bullet was being removed from you. Though, that did not last long.

The dim lights in the lower deck began to seem darker, and your body wasn’t contorting itself the same way as before. In a way you felt more relaxed this way, though the darkness that had started to slowly surround you was something you didn’t look forward to. A faint sound of the bullet hitting the wooden flooring as the knife left your body was the last thing you heard. Your consciousness faded away, leaving Izzy alone with bloodied hands and a mess on the table. 

His gaze shook a little, but he stood still at the table. Thanking whoever had left a bottle of rum in the lower deck. Izzy took a hold of the brown bottle and took a swig from it himself. With a second to think, he poured the liquid from the bottle straight onto the wound. It felt odd not to hear you instruct him, not that he needed it anymore. But you being so silent, seemingly dead to anyone else's eye who might have walked past, it shook him a little. As many people as he had killed and seen dead, none of them had affected him this way. The thoughts of your death filled his mind for a brief second, before the first mate shook them away. He wasn’t sure how much to pour, stopping eventually. He thought you might like the rest of it once you woke up. In his experience, rum was good at numbing feelings. Just what pain was, only a feeling. 

Izzy wrapped the wound best he could, leaving the belt on. You hadn’t told him what to do with it after, and that had only now occurred to him. As much as his duties would have commanded for him to leave you with the rest of the crew, he did not want for you to wake up in the noise and smell that was the crew’s quarters. Was what he told himself, not being able to ask for your opinion. 

He might have not been the tallest man on deck, but that did not mean he was weak in any way. He picked you up easily, carrying you to his quarters. Barely a spot for sleeping fit there, but he managed. 

The first mate laid your still form onto the small bed, seating himself onto a box next to it. His eyes stayed on the bed for some time before a sigh left his lungs, turning his eyes to his hands. He placed them over his face for a while, the burning feeling of tears trying to push through all too familiar at this point. They never truly fell down, so it did not count as crying for him. A pirate didn't cry.

So he sat there, the held-back tears reddening his eyes a little as he leaned on the wall behind him and stared at the other in front of him, keeping his gaze up. He felt conflicted, more so than usual. He hadn’t thought of you, not of how much he seemed to care. Sure, the two of you had spent an odd amount of time together, but you preferred to be alone or at least at the sidelines, so did he. So, for long it had been a coincidence that you bumped in together. And during those times you spent together were almost enough to make him feel alive again. But when you didn’t, was when he truly felt lonely. And so he did now, now when you were unconscious. A sharp breath drawn by you caught his attention back. The end of it started sounding more like a hiss than anything else. Your eyes tried to open slowly, but the sheering pain forced them to snap open with yet another hiss. You curled up on the bed before your eyes landed on Izzy. His mouth was slightly agape, but soon realised to hand you the bottle from earlier which you gladly accepted. After a long swig you handed it back to him, hand shaking ever so slightly. Eyes focusing on him now, vision back to what you remembered as normal. Even with Izzy keeping his gaze quite low, you could see the slight tint of red in his eyes. The first mate hadn’t said anything yet, so you decided to break the silence. “Have you been crying?” Came out rustier than intended, but the teasing tone of voice was still clear somewhere in there. Izzy’s jaw tightened, but he must have backed away from what he wanted to say. “Sod off.” He looked away for a moment, expression much softer after from what you could tell. Though, he seemed stiff. Like he was shaken in a way you’d never seen him before. “Izzy-” You sighed, not sure what to say to him, so instead you thought of something else. His other hand was resting on the edge of the bed. Expecting him to pull away at the very least, you placed your hand on his, but he didn’t. He allowed your slightly warmer, shaky palm to warm his colder hand, badly wiped away blood dried on it. “Thank you.” You said silently, not to disturb the oddly peaceful silence that had formed from the slightest of connections. Izzy turned to you, moving his hand further on the bed, not adding anything to that. The touch was a thank you enough, more than enough to him. 

[stedefxckingbonnet]

Moonlight Meetings | Izzy Hands x Reader

Summary: You knew Stede Bonnet from his days of being married to your dearest friend, Mary. Although Mary was your best friend, you were still there for Stede during his conflicting feelings about his marriage and wanting to sail the seas and explore the world and, well, become a pirate, and without judgment, too. You wished you had gone with him when he had left, but you stayed loyal to Mary. But upon Stede's return and him and Mary giving and getting the closure they mutually needed, as well as her assisting him in faking his death so he could truly go and live the life he's wanted to pursue without guilt, you do end up going with him this time. You actually reveal yourself to be a skilled navigator and trader, but even before this knowledge, the crew accepted you with open arms. Even a certain first mate who was weary at first (you are Stede's friend, after all) comes around, although you tried to take over his late night thinking spot as your own. You end up sharing said spot and looking forward to your encounters and conversations every night, even throughout the days.

Warnings: slight inconsistency with plot of OFMD (just the stuff with when Stede returns after leaving again, it's really not too evident or bothersome i don't think), some strong language, briefest mention of blood ever, some light angst, brief mentions of troubling past, brief explorations of anxiety, kissing

This honestly took me a few days to write, and Tumblr didn't save some of it, so that was frustrating, anyhow—I truly hope you all enjoy this! I enjoyed writing it. I have a few requests that I will be fulfilling hopefully tomorrow as well, or at least in the next couple of days especially after recent events if you know what I mean...I love you all so dearly and I cannot thank you enough for all the love you've shown me so far. I've enjoyed talking with you all whether it's through the comments or my inbox or even messages :) Keep the requests coming, and have a wonderful day (or night!)

Word Count: 5461

You had never fathomed that the sun could even shine this brightly. For once in your life, its beams didn't berate you but rather seemed to engulf you in a warm embrace as a sort of sendoff on your new endeavors, encouraging you, almost—reassuring you that this was in fact the right choice.

Ever since Stede had taken off to start his new life as a pirate amongst the ocean, you couldn't help but feel envious. You would have given anything to be able to do the same, to leave everything behind and start fresh, especially upon the saltwater seas. Barbados was all you had ever known and it never truly felt like your home. But even just the thought, the daydream of sailing the seas and discovering places you never imagined existed, felt like absolute bliss and paradise. You were sad to see Stede go, too, but you knew it would be good for him. You knew he would be happier than he was living here with Mary and his children, living the life his parents designed for him. You were undeniably happy for him. But you couldn't help but also be extremely jealous, too. Though of course, you would never express these feelings harshly—you really were over the moon for Stede. You just wished for something beyond the life that was handed to you, too. You knew he understood that, too.

Whenever you and Stede would whisper about his plans in corners at all of those socialite gatherings in the rare moments when no one was watching, he would always suggest for you to go with him, but you felt like you had no choice but to stay, especially with Mary. She was your dearest friend, and you felt strongly about your loyalty towards her. You'd never admit you were also terrified of your name being slandered and that your new reputation would follow you out there forever if you had left with him, at least at that time, in those circumstances.

But, Stede returned briefly, and all had been rekindled with Mary. They sincerely wished each other well, and she even helped him pull off a grandiose stunt—faking his death, and you knew that now, he was finally able to live the life he yearned for in peace and free of guilt. He killed off the Stede Bonnet of Barbados, and truly began to grow into the person he wanted to be—Stede Bonnet of the sea, The Gentleman Pirate.

Once he pulled it off, you walked over with him to the sand to send him off once again. There was a lingering moment between the two of you, both knowing that this would not be farewell.

"I'm going to ask you again," Stede started. "Do you want to come with me? Please, come with me, it's amazing out there. And the crew, oh!—you'd just love the crew! Please?"

How could you resist this time? Even before he had formally asked again, you were already on board, ready for whatever awaited you on this journey.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

The first few weeks aboard The Revenge had been nothing short of wonderful. You already felt well acquainted with your crew, and there were even a particular few you felt yourself getting closer to already, and hoped you all would continue to. But there were parts of it that were terrifying, too—it would hit you in the most out of nowhere moments that you just up and left your last life. It's not like anything, let alone anyone was waiting for you back there, but nonetheless it shocked you from time to time that you had even left. You felt like an entirely new person—you knew that in your core you were still you, but your identity felt a bit lost in this new environment somewhere. You hardly mourned this, as you were excited to explore a new you, but that didn't erase the fact that it was frightening. There were nights where you found yourself confiding in Stede about this for hours, but you eventually stopped as you noticed Ed would already be in his quarters when you arrived and you wanted to give them privacy. Still, you couldn't stand to be alone in your own quarters, but you weren't sure which of your crew mates' doors you could knock on just yet. The only place left was to check out the main deck, see if there were any nooks and crannies you may have missed.

After a few minutes of searching, you found the perfect spot—you couldn't really be seen by anyone else on the deck, if anyone decided to walk onto it, but you could still stare out at the water and the moonlight. The moon's reflection rippling across the ocean was one of your favorite sights—it brought you such peace, so you were honestly glad that you strayed from being holed up in Stede's room and wound up here instead. You were about to sit when you felt someone else's presence beside you. You jumped, immediately turning around to see who it was, your hand instinctively reaching for your sword.

"It's just me," Izzy sighed. "You can put your fucking sword away. Just me.

You let out a sigh of relief upon the sight of the first mate. You knew that his presence unsettled, or really just annoyed the others, but not you. His presence made you feel safe and looked after, even if he was a bit harsh a lot of the time.

"This is my spot, you know," he sighed once again.

"Your spot?"

"It's where I come to think every single night, even when I'm not on watch," he explained to you surprisingly patiently.

"Do you want me to leave?" you pondered, almost frantically. You didn't want to feel like you had invaded yet another space. You knew you would start spiraling, start thinking that maybe there wasn't a place for you aboard The Revenge. And honestly, Izzy wanted to be alone, but the look on your face almost pierced through his heart. He didn't have the heart to tell you off.

"You don't have to," he shrugged, sitting down beside you. "It's fine."

You both stared out at the sea. You were beyond grateful to have some company, honestly—company beyond the moon itself. Not long after, a sigh escaped your own lips. Izzy tried to fight off the urge to talk to you, but he couldn't deny that he felt so drawn to you, even when you first arrived on the ship.

"Something wrong?" he finally asked, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. He intended to keep you in his periphery.

"I guess I've just been feeling kind of like an outsider," you shrugged, continuing. "Being here is all I've ever wanted and more, but I just feel like such a burden to everyone all the time. I don't really have anyone to talk to, and even when Stede left our village, I only had one friend. Now I just feel even more alone...It's silly, I know."

"It's not," Izzy protested. "I get it. I do."

"You do?"

Izzy nodded. "You don't ever see me talking to anyone, do you?"

You paused to ponder. "Not unless they need something."

"Exactly."

"Do you ever get lonely, Izzy?"

Such an innocent inquiry was enough to almost make Izzy's heart stop. Looking at you from the corner of his eye wasn't enough anymore. He turned his head to face you, witnessing the genuine expression on your face. You truly cared, and you truly wanted to know. No one had ever looked at Izzy this way before, and he wasn't sure of how it was supposed to make him feel—frustrated? Sad? Sorry? Joyous, even? He subtly put his gloved hand upon his chest, thinking somehow it would slow his quickly-paced heartbeat. He wasn't used to this, he couldn't even believe this was happening. He even felt he was reading too much into this—but, you cared, and he knew it right away. He didn't know what to do with that. But it was a pleasant feeling, teetering on bittersweet. Upon realizing your question was still hanging in the air, he quickly spoke again, his mind not exactly in sync with his mouth.

"I suppose."

Izzy's response hung in the air just as your query had. It felt relieving to put such a thing out into the universe, but it also felt dreadful facing this reality. Was this the reason behind the occasionally random sharp pains in his chest, almost reminiscent of someone stabbing him right through his heart with a sword? These physical sensations never came without a looming feeling of gloominess, after all. He almost exhaled at the thought. He wasn't sure whether or not he was ready to explore any of this, let alone if he even wanted to do so. His gaze was still fixated on you, as if he were awaiting to hear something from you as well. For once in his life, hope could be seen in his eyes, though he didn't know it.

Finally, you spoke. "I'll be the moon."

A laugh almost boomed from Izzy's chest. "What?"

"I'll be here every night, if you'll have me. If there's ever a particularly hard day, just remember that the moon will rise at the end of the day and be there for you to lament all your sorrows to," you stood up by this point, speaking sort of dramatically, but it was apparent that you meant it sincerely. "And even during the day, did you know you can still see the moon? So, I'll be there during the day, too."

Izzy was in complete and utter disbelief in the best way possible. He was truly at a loss for words, and he swore his head was going to hurt from how much he was nodding. You smiled at this sight, and held your hand out to help Izzy up. He looked at you, confusing written all over his expression, but you kept your hand there. Finally, he allowed himself to put his hand in yours and before he knew it, he was back on his feet again, in more ways than one.

"Goodnight, Izzy."

"Right. Yes. Goodnight."

The thought of Izzy didn't leave your mind even as you retreated to your quarters, nor when you succumbed to sleep for the remainder of the night's reign. Little did you know that Izzy thought of you, too. That you weren't just going to be his moonlight, but also, his sunshine. But he didn't know that just yet.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

You rose right as the sun did the next day, never having been more ready to take on a day until now. Something was even more enchanting about watching the transition of grey hues into orange into light blue, but this process in reverse would always have your heart. The rest of the crew woke up shortly after you, some still yawning, some stumbling upon the main deck from exhaustion. You couldn't help but giggle at such sights. None other than Izzy Hands followed behind them and your heart almost skipped a beat. Usually when this happened it was because you were overcome with worry, but, not this time and you knew that deep down. When you swore no one else was looking, you glanced over and sent a grin his way, to which he slightly returned—blinked, and you would have missed it. Your smile grew even larger, and you had to turn away to conceal it. Before you knew it, you felt a pair of hands on your shoulders, causing you to gasp.

"Someone's chipper this morning."

"Stede!" you exclaimed, laughing so hard that your stomach would probably hurt later. You swiveled around to face him. "Scared the ever living shit out of me."

"Sorry about that," Stede couldn't help but chuckle. "I just wanted to check in with you...are you feeling happy here? You settling in okay? I know it's a lot to just up and leave your life."

"Honestly, I've never been better," you admitted, your smile still existing upon you. And your smile was radiant—it had almost everyone's head turns toward you, their hearts feeling warm. Even Izzy. Especially Izzy. "I am so glad I did this. I regret not joining you sooner, but I—"

"I know," Stede jumped in to assure you, which you were endlessly grateful for. He knew of your tendency to spiral, and he wanted to cultivate a space where you didn't feel like you had to do so. "And I admire your loyalty. It's been an asset on this ship so far."

You sent a glance of gratitude his way before he walked off upon the sight of Ed emerging from his quarters, finally. You laughed as they made their ways over to one another. You were beyond happy to see your dear friend so happy, so in love. So in his element, where he truly belonged.

"Everyone, get to work!" Izzy suddenly shouted, to which the crew immediately scurried off to their designated areas. This didn't startle you, though. You made your way over to the kitchen to assist Roach in organizing the rations, accidentally brushing hands with Izzy as you did. You stopped in your tracks and looked at him from over your shoulder. He was looking at you, too, the smallest smile on his face. He couldn't look away, even though he wanted to just in case his face flushed or he smiled any further or, gods forbid, anyone else saw. You weren't afraid to keep smiling, and after what felt like forever of engaging in this staring match with the first mate, you finally ducked into the kitchen, so as not to keep Roach waiting. If you had, he would know something happened and he would pester you about it for the rest of your life.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Night fell sooner than you could realize it and for that, you were entirely grateful. You had been distracted the entirety of the day; the thought of whatever you and Izzy may have to share later dancing around in your mind, causing your heart to do pirouettes whenever you daydreamed about it. You almost couldn't even wait until everyone was asleep—but you knew this would run the risk of revealing your and Izzy's secret spot, and that would be less than ideal for the both of you. The last thing you wanted was to ruin a good thing that was only just beginning to blossom.

But tonight, Izzy was early. He found himself inhabited in the very same spot as the previous night, just as he had promised. Without a word, you plopped down right beside him, sending one of your signature smiles his way.

"I've never wished a day away like I had today," you laughed breathlessly.

"Nor have I. Yet, here we are." You could tell that there wasn't resentment behind Izzy's statement, but rather, a sort of joy. You discreetly moved a bit closer to him, your knees almost brushing against one another. Izzy also moved toward you at the same time, causing said collision. You were grateful for the dark concealing the rose tint creeping upon your cheeks. Izzy was grateful for the dark concealing the smile creeping upon his lips.

Izzy exhaled almost sharply, preparing to speak again, really speak. "I don't mean to scare off the crew, you know."

"I don't think you scare them one bit," you were quick to reassure him. "It's just how times were in the time where you sailed with Blackbeard, right?"

Izzy nodded almost rapidly, in utter shock that you already had such a good read on him. "Times were different, that's for sure."

"I can tell you care," you told him sincerely. "You just have a way of showing it that the crew isn't used to. I mean, they have Stede fucking Bonnet as one of their captains."

Izzy didn't hesitate to laugh at that. "Yeah. Stupid fucking Stede Bonnet...but what was it like?"

"What was what like?"

"Being a part of...that world. His world."

You rolled your eyes somewhat playfully. "It was...a lot, all at once. Lots of uncomfortable clothes, powder on my face that made me look sickly but everyone would swear I was beautiful. But I never felt like a real fucking person. Ever. It was honestly exhausting."

Izzy listened intently, leaning in a bit to further demonstrate this. He nodded as you spoke, nods that spoke: I understand. That does sound like a lot. That does sound exhausting. It's amazing that you left that life behind. You're destined for so much more than what you were given. But all Izzy could manage to say, was, "No wonder you left. That sounded awful." He was mentally punching himself for not thinking of anything better to say. You deserved words in which were beautifully and artfully strung together. He knew that.

But, you laughed, knowing he empathized just by the way he looked at you. You were no stranger to these sorts of glances—sure, no one had ever looked at you that way before, but it was all you read about in your favorite romance novels, described so vividly that once you did encounter a moment like this, you would immediately recognize it, and, you did. "I'm better now. Much better. Where I need to be."

Once again, Izzy nodded. "You've been a great addition to this crew."

"Really?" you asked, almost in disbelief, but you were flattered to say the very least.

"I wouldn't have said it if I didn't mean it." To anyone else, this would have sounded harsh. To you, these were the most reassuring words you had ever heard. He looked over at you, insecurity rushing through his bloodstream and you could see this. Even in the light of the moon, you could see the paleness of Izzy's face.

"Thank you, Izzy." You spoke sincerely, and suddenly all pigment re-entered Izzy's once ghostly features. Such words felt so foreign and out of reach for him, until you had confidently brought them into existence. From you, this declaration wasn't a whisper—he could tell that you meant it with your entire heart. He couldn't even recall the last time someone had shown him a shred of gratitude, or if anyone ever had at all before this. Just those three words were enough to send warmth all throughout his body even as the breeze threatened to send shivers down both of your spines and force you underneath the warmth of your blankets in your respective quarters. This would be a warmth that would carry on every time he saw you from this point on—you would be the start to the fireplace in his heart, and part of him knew this was going to begin to happen from this moment forward. As long as you were going to be around, he knew he would at least never be entirely freezing again.

All Israel Hands could manage to do now was look at you. There were stars in his eyes paired tears hat threatened to cascade down his cheeks like waterfalls and he hoped so much that you weren't able to see, that the moon would spare him at least a bit. But you so badly wanted to reach out and wipe away the water from the corners of his eyes, though you wanted his complete trust even more, and that seemed like the last way to get it, at least this early on.

"My eyes just get dry," Izzy quickly defended in case you had seen anything.

You stifled a quiet laugh. "It is pretty windy out here."

"So, see you tomorrow, then?"

"Tomorrow," you confirmed, not even trying to conceal the corners of your lips rising to form a smile.

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

Tomorrow's would unfold every single night, not one ever missed. There were even a few nights that you happened to be in the midst of a cold but you insisted to be in your spot with Izzy, to which he would protest and you would compromise by allowing your meetings to happen in your quarters as he got Roach to make you soup, and you were better within the next few days. And even on the days where Izzy felt like absolutely screaming and cursing at the world, perhaps directing this to Blackbeard and Stede, he would still eagerly await your time together—it would be beyond enough to get him through those days.

It had now been quite some time since these meetings began. You were really beginning to solve the riddle that was Izzy Hands, and you quite liked what you were finding, and it only made you yearn to uncover even more. But, there were many nights and even days spent where you worried—worried that perhaps Izzy was ashamed of the connection that you two had formed, and that was why your encounters took place at night. Or, perhaps he was just lonely, or he had nothing better to do. You did your best to push these thoughts to the back of your mind but you usually had no luck. And, it was even harder to deny the blossoming feelings you had for the man.

Even before the first time you two had really conversed, you knew there was something about the first mate that you were drawn to, and these nights with Izzy had only confirmed that.

Little did you know that the same fears, and probably even more, existed within Izzy. Of all the people in the crew, why had you taken interest in him? He knew that even Stede Bonnet was probably of more interest, with his fancy wears and his everlasting bookshelves. Or Frenchie perhaps, with his instrument and his voice that the crew never got sick of hearing. Or Lucius with his sketches and his wit. Or hell, even Blackbeard himself, with all of the anecdotes he had up his sleeve—but why him? Why Israel Hands? This thought often plagued him to the point where his head would begin to hurt just a bit, and whenever it did (and, you knew when it did—he wasn't the best at hiding the wincing at all), he would just cake it to the changes in weather, or something that had happened that day, or even not drinking enough water. You always knew these excuses were, well, excuses, but you also knew it wasn't best to press.

Sometimes, part of Izzy wished that you would press. It was you, so he wouldn't mind as much. It wasn't likely that he would pour out his concerns, but he would appreciate yours.

As soon as you arose, you already spotted Black Pete and Lucius, who absolutely qualified for the cutest couple award, if there were such a thing—you wouldn't be surprised if Stede had established that just for them. But, your heart sank just a bit, knowing you couldn't express your growing love for Izzy like that. You weren't even sure you would know if he returned your feelings, and the last thing you wanted to do was ruin such a beautiful thing between the both of you with such knowledge, especially if he truly didn't feel the same. But every morning, your heart would ache, and it became harder and harder to keep all of this love to yourself. You wanted more than anything for it to pour out of you like a fountain that never stopped flowing. You reserved such ardor for Izzy and Izzy alone. Never had you carried such affection, such fondness for another, and not only did that excite you, but it also scared the hell out of you.

The crew noticed this after the first few weeks—oh, you were far from subtle. You practically glowed whenever Izzy entered a room, even if you appeared completely composed.

Finally, Izzy rose from his quarters and your heart leapt in your chest. You couldn't hold it in anymore, and there was no way you were waiting for the moon to rise tonight. You waltzed right over to Izzy, gently pulling him aside. He didn't resist your touch at all—it felt almost familiar, and peaceful.

"Do you have a moment?" you suddenly asked.

"For you? Always. For anything else? Probably not," he chuckled.

Before you were about to speak once again, Stede had announced that the ship had docked. You sighed, slumping against the railing that you and Izzy were propped up against.

"Can it wait?" Izzy asked you sheepishly, his eyes apologizing.

"Oh. Yes. Yes, it can," you sighed.

"Not for long," Izzy assured you as he rushed off in order to ensure the ship's safe docking. It only took a few moments before he gestured for you to follow him off of the ship. You perked up at this, grabbing your satchel and running over to him.

"So, what is it you wanted to talk about?" he asked as you walked along the pathway of the Republic of Pirates.

"I...It's nothing. Not here, at least."

"Then where?" Izzy sent a playful smile your way.

"Could we actually head back to the ship? Just for a moment?"

Izzy pondered this—for just a moment. "I suppose no one would really notice, and if they did, they wouldn't care all that much."

This time, Izzy followed you. You were already beginning to regret this quite a bit, and beads of sweat were forming upon your temple. You wiped them away carefully, fanning yourself with your hand. You led Izzy to your shared spot, barely being able to breathe. Nor was Izzy with the way you were practically running back, and he had to do his best to keep up the pace. But the thought that something could be wrong was beginning to plague him.

"I couldn't wait until tonight," you finally admit, nervous laughter bubbling out of you.

"Most days, I can't either," Izzy sent a reassuring, but equally as nervous smile your way. "All of the time, actually."

All you could manage to do was sit there and just glow. You glowed underneath the sun's beams and the sight of it made Izzy absolutely melt, and not from the heat.

"Is everything alright? Just wanted to talk?"

Your eyes stayed fixated upon the man before you, the person whom you carried so much love for that it almost overflowed out of you. And, it was no secret that you had never felt this way about anyone before, and Stede Bonnet himself could and would be overjoyed to confirm it. You were often urged to find some sort of attachment toward a plethora of potential "worthy" suitors, but none of them ever caught your eye, nor had much to offer you despite all of their pleas. You always had this feeling deep down that none of them were truly suitable, and so you bore no hesitation saving yourself and your heart for someone that was. And Israel Hands was beyond anything you had ever dreamed of. He suited you so perfectly. He was worthy of all of the love in the world and so much more—you just hoped yours was enough for him. You hoped he would want any of it—it was his if he did.

And oh, did he want it. He yearned for you. Izzy's heart ached when the two of you were forced to retreat to your quarters after hours of conversation. He could spend forever just sitting there with you, his arm wrapped around you as you witnessed the sky's change every day, together. To him, that would be absolute paradise. Every second he spent with you, and even when you were apart, he knew in his heart that he held this special sort of feeling for you. Dare he call it love, as he didn't want his heart to shatter into a million pieces that he wouldn't be able to pick up. But, you were it for him, and he knew that deep down. He could see it in your eyes, or at least, he hoped that was what he was seeing. You did look at him with stars in your eyes, and you knew that.

"Please, don't hate me," you started, biting your lip so harshly that it almost drew blood.

"Hate you?" Izzy repeated, absolutely puzzled. "I couldn't hate you even if I tried."

You inhaled so sharply that you almost choked on air. You laughed it off, though Izzy instinctively placed his arm on the small of your back, tracing small patterns into it. With this, you collapsed into his arms and he was already set up to catch you. Sobs escaped your lips as he moved one of his hands to the back of your head, running his fingers through your hair in an attempt to hopefully soothe you. These weren't instincts he was familiar with, yet, he felt as if he was meant to do these things. "You can tell me. Take your time, of course," he assured you as you continued to cry. After a moment, you managed to compose yourself a bit and you felt okay enough to pull away, but Izzy kept his hands on your upper arms gently, just in case. He was really starting to grow concerned, his stomach churning.

"You won't hate me?"

Izzy laughed, to which you managed the smallest of smiles. "I could never."

"I...I feel very connected to you, Izzy," you began. "And our conversations have really confirmed that for me. I don't just think about you at night before we talk—do you know that? You are the first thing that enters my mind each morning and then I can't wait to see you, really see you and talk to you and be close to you. And some days on this ship are hard, Izzy, but you make things so much easier. You take so much weight off of my shoulders."

"The thought of getting to talk to you gets me out of bed every day," Izzy admitted. "I've been doing this a long time and sometimes I don't know what it's all for anymore, why I even bother. But if I get to see your smile, it's all worth it."

You swore you were about to become a blubbering mess if you opened your mouth to speak at all. As you took a step forward towards him, your fingers intertwining as you approached. His other hand gently landed upon your waist, and your eyes met at the same second. The gap between you both was too much, too much, and neither of you could take its existence anymore—he gently reeled you in and you pressed your lips against his. He quietly gasped in surprise, though it was quickly followed by a sort of sigh of relief as he returned your kiss, returned your sentiments. You smiled against his lips and he couldn't help but do the same, there was no denying that your smile was contagious. He felt as if he were meant to do this, meant to show you such tenderness and care and love. And you would do anything in your power to show him that he was worthy of all of yours.

"I..." Izzy whispered against your lips. "I love you." The words almost got stuck in his throat—they felt unfamiliar, and unfamiliar was rarely not terrifying or dreadful. Right now, unfamiliar was exhilarating. Those three words were the truest he had ever spoken. You lit up more than the sun, the stars, and the moon combined.

"I love you, Israel." You had saved those three words for someone special, someone whom you truly adored without any question, and Izzy happened to be that someone. Anyone else would never, ever compare. He engulfed you in another embrace, your shirt becoming slightly stained by his tears. "I was meant to."

"Meant to what?"

"I was meant to love you. Made for it, probably," you laughed.

Izzy took hold of your hand once again, disentangling himself from your embrace to face you. With his free hand, he cupped your cheek and his thumb caressed it softly. "I think perhaps the moon knew to bring us together. But I loved...I loved you even before then. Or at least, I had a strong feeling I was going to. That, I'm certain about."

"Think we still have some time before everyone notices we're gone?" you asked, hope wavering in your voice.

"Oh, we've got ample long as they're at Spanish Jackie's," he couldn't help but chuckle. "We've got all the time in the world, my love."

"All of the time in the world," you repeated. "I love the sound of that."

[leg0joker]

I want to write a OFMD fic where m!reader sneaks on the ship and you become one of the crew + your hella horny for izzy, your likes the ships puppy. Anyone interested??

Also would you prefer y/n or a nickname, please answer poll

Or just me? It’d also be gentlebeard..

Ratz is for people who want to press a button but don’t read fanfiction

[bowieandqueen11]

Not Just A Trinket / Izzy Hands Imagine

Request: hi! ur writing is EVERYTHING btw. ur an amazing writer. you mentioned you wanted to write for izzy hands again and i have a request– feel free to ignore if it's not what ur looking for :) maybe izzy hands x reader where the reader has a small gift for him (a little trinket, a beaded crystal bracelet– something they made for him) but they're WAY too anxious to give it to him because they're scared he won't like it so they end up just carrying it around, trying to build up the courage to give it to him pfft

AHHH thank you so much my lovely, that's so sweet of you, and so is this idea!!! :3 Also I know I'm a little early in the timeline mentioning Davy Jones but I like to think of Izzy as a trendsetter ;)

Warning: mentions of fighting/ injury and strong language, some sexual innuendo!

(I do not own OFMD or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @nadsdraws.)

☆.。.:・°☆.。.:・°

Izzy Hands was beginning to detest feeling like this.

He would rather charge sword first at a horde of raging Englishmen: would prefer to scrabble and scrape and scratch through the eye sockets of thousands of the Spanish with naught but his bloodied fingernails. Hell, even grovelling under the sole of the snivelling wreck that now possessed his former boss like a twisted nightmare, a horrid regret, would be preferable. If his hand wasn't too firmly attached to tangled rope of one of the shrouds in a death grip, if his glove wasn't close to bursting at the seams with how tightly he was gripping, he had half a mind to draw his dagger out of its scabbard and gouge his heart out right there and then.

He looked furious. So much so, that Roach was quick to side step him as he hopped down the steps with fresh sewing materials in his hand, giving a final look back at the intent man who only bared his teeth at the cook in response. Valuing his life, or at least the ability to keep all his fingers, if the sight of the keen blade being twisted between Izzy's free fingers told him anything, Roach is quick to recoil back and raise a concerned eyebrow in Wee John's direction. He in turn just rolls his eyes and lowers his head back to his sewing, but the rest of Stede's crew are astute enough, from where they're lingering around the deck, to notice the thick tension brewing like cold shivers of electricity in the air. Even Jim and Oluwande were giving each other side eyes, pausing their hammering at the helm to dart their eyes to their side and trace the path of Izzy's line of sight.

It never wavered. Every time they looked, it never changed. He had spent the last two hours gaping sourly towards the edge of the quarter deck. Gawking solely at you, without a single movement, without a single flicker outside the bubble where you hunched.

You thought he was angry at you for arranging a special outing for Ed and Stede at Datura Grotto, finally indulging in finding a way for them to spend some time alone after your Captain had begged and hounded you for days; he had become so accustomed to bursting through doors trying to find you and ask for your help, that the poor daunted man nearly burst into tears when he smashed your bedroom door into your nose and nearly broke it. The rest of the crew believed he was plotting something: trying to pick out the quieter members of their friends first, as payback for being stuck on this so called 'straight out of Davy Jones' arsehole' of a ship for so long.

Izzy, though. Izzy knew he was smitten. And he fucking hated it. He hated feeling so vulnerable.

Out of all the crew members still pretending to mill about, only Lucius was daring enough to purse his lips and look brazenly back at Blackbeard's first mate. Only Lucius, in fact, was feeling equally brave, and equally vexatious that fine afternoon to muster up the courage to slide up beside him. 'Someone in a bad mood today, are we?'. He taps the ships railing with the point of his nail, the broom he had been pretending to sweep splintered pieces off the floor a moment ago soon forgotten about as he leans it against the side of the ship. He replaces the loss by dropping his hand to his hip, cocking his head and smiling at an increasingly agitated looking Izzy. 'Would it have anything to do with that fine young sea farer over there by any chance? How romantic, Dizzy Izzy. Oh, I do love a good fix-me-up-'

Oh, he was enjoying this.

Izzy's quick to snap, not even bothering to look in Lucius' direction. 'Fuck off, before I do you a favour and cut that little seducing tongue out of your mouth for you.' Lucius watches Izzy's fingers tighten into leather clad black balls on the rope ladder, and doesn't need a second warning to trot off back towards his friends again. With a final wide eyed look of shock, he turns back to Black Pete and shrugs, holding his hands up as if to say that he tried his best.

All the while, you just keep your gaze steady out and onto the brewing horizon of the sea, watching as foam shook out like reaching hands around your ankles as they across cut through the wave crests, only the salty sting of thrumming silence keeping you company underneath his watchful gaze. The beaded necklace you had spent the last week or so threading together, carefully crafted by trembling fingers and a bit tongue during long evenings spent in your hammock, was beginning to feel like an anchor weight in your pocket. You tried to distract yourself with mundane, idle chit chat with a very thankful Lucius, who had swung over to your side after Pete convinced him to go scouting out for some more gossip. Swinging his legs between the latches of the port quarter, he merrily took the hammer you were idly holding from your hand and began to 'fix up the ship', his wrist barely moving as he turned to you with a scheming smile.

'So, do you know what's going on then? Why Izzy's acting like this? I swear, that man. If he doesn't bend over right now and try to get that stick out of his arse, he's going to be a miserable sad sack of repressed irritation forever. He's like a jack in the box. I swear to god, I'm just waiting for him to burst.' The tone of his voice sounds almost worried, but Lucius is smiling and waggling his eyebrows the whole while. 'That would be kind of funny, actually. I've always imagined him as a stamper. Or maybe a screamer-'

You have no idea what to say, not understanding Lucius' oh so unsubtle hints, so you just run your fingers over the bulge in your pocket once more and chime in to his rant from time to time with a disinterested 'hmm' or distracted 'oh, yeah. Definitely.' It really didn't help that you were beginning to blush the same champagne hue as the bubbles between your toes with how gravely Izzy was staring at the side of your face. It was growing increasingly harder not to give into the temptation: to not just swing your head around and meet his hard-set eyes head on.

Once he realises you're dead set on staying right there, away from him, hiding in the corner all day, he sighs and let's go of the sails, marching off to do another impromptu inspection of the boarded vessel. It's an easy distraction: yelling orders at Wee John, spitting insults at Roach as he scurries out of Izzy's way, stealing the Swede's cup out of his hand and spraying beads of coffee around Buttons' feet. All of it was a Grade A fantastic distraction, and Izzy was hell bent on forgetting just how quickly time had gone by that day: Ed and the moronic, sappy, massive twat of an arse Stede would be back from their foliage constitutional any minute now, and Izzy was acutely aware that he was running out of both minutes, and chances to ask you to take a walk with him on the island himself. He had spent far too much of the morning wasting away, leaning his back on Stede's antique armoire and watching you with crossed arms: like a weathered statue, the growing umbra he cast somehow seeming to reach its tendrils out and blanch the fringes of the doorway. Even Fang and Ivan had been too terrified to come near him, and so he had been left alone. A silent sentinel, trying to figure out why the fuck his heart was cracking against the cage of his ribs and tearing their ligaments to shreds.

You hadn't exactly made things any easier for the man: feeling so intimated, you had spent the whole morning begging your friends to whisk you away from him at the first sign of danger. Whether that meant ducking behind Frenchie's lute like a crab, or hiding like a bulky turtle under the large bit of crimson cloth Oluwande was fiddling with the tassels of, you had used any form of escape to save you from the embarrassment of having to be near him. To let him see how flustered you became just at the overwhelmingly intense pressure you felt in the air any time he swaggered over to your side: to hide the fact that your eyes would widen in abject horror, your breath hitching any time the back of his gloved hand would 'accidentally' brush against your wrist as he went on his merry way, pretending it was all by accident. That it was all just a little game to him.

Little did you know, that he was feeling exactly the same way. The one time he had dared to come over to you that day had been an unmitigated disaster. He thought he was being... well, as kind as he possibly could be by slapping you on the shoulder and saying 'how good of a job you're doing.' He was nodding his head between every word, that jilted, simpering smile on his face as he supplemented his sentiment with an incredibly heartfelt 'at least Y/n knows how to do a fucking thing on this ship, not like you lot of useless fucking fuckers they have to work with. The rest of you are embarrassing, really.' He went to walk away, the side of his wrist glancing against the back of your hand as he finished with a breathless 'you lot could learn a thing or two from Y/n.'

He had staggered away from you as if mortally wounded, tongue bitten between his teeth as he tried as nonchalantly as possible to make his way back to the stern of the ship. While you were busy trying to bury your head down into your chest and avoid the smirking faces of Lucius and Pete, you happened to notice from the side of your eye that with each step Izzy was ringing out his hand. To your surprise, he used his teeth to rip his glove off, tucking it under his armpit as he wrangled with his fingers; he couldn't stop every cell burning as if it had just been reeled under the bottom of the ship. Couldn't understand why his fingertips wouldn't stop shaking as he flexed them.

Lucius was right. He was about to erupt, and he wondered if he'd ever be alright again.

It took until the sun nearly bowing over the jaded unicorn surmounting the anterior of the Revenge for you to find the courage to finally slink away from your convenient hiding spot to go over to Izzy. Well, that and the feel of Lucius literally dragging you up by the wrist and giving you a well meaning shove in the back towards the helm.

'Oh, fuck me', Izzy hisses as he watches you approach, turning his back to you to hide how flustered he was becoming with each tugging step at his heart you take towards him. He nearly jumps high enough to fall face first off the side of the boat when he feels your hand tentatively tap his shoulder, but he manages to inhale sharply and compose himself as best as he can before he flicks his eyes to look at you.

'I-uh-', you swallow thickly, shakily drawing your hand away from him and tucking it behind your back. 'I-, uh. I, I mean, I-'. The two of you, a far change of pace from usual, can barely keep your eyes on each other.

You feel like throwing your shoe at Lucius when you register the all too familiar sing song-y chime of his voice murmuring 'say something!' from behind your back. 'Or I swear to god, I'll kiss the man for you!'

'Well, I-', you start again, shooting the most vicious glare you could strangle out of you back at your friend. With a final sigh, you continue: 'I saw your necklace, and I don't mean to pry- but since you're always wearing black, which of course is incredibly cool, I just- well, I thought it needed a burst of colour.' Without a second thought, you scramble to pull your makeshift necklace out of your trousers, and shove the glistening glass emeralds and burnished pearls into his fist.

'It's just a silly thing, really. I saw Stede fixing Ed's red fabric and I just thought... well, you don't have to wear it. It's just a trinket, it's stupid. Really, you don't have to wear it. I'm sorry-'. After a pause, the burning sensation is enough to make you turn on your heel and bashfully start to make a break for the Rec Centre, just to get as far away from him as possible.

'It's not just a trinket.' The softness of his tone, despite how harshly he sounds out the letters makes you swivel back in surprise. He takes the opportunity to take a step forward and grab onto your wrist. He tugs you closer, until you're standing dangerously close to him: if he were to inhale deeply now, to puff his chest out just a tenth of an inch, your belly buttons would be tightly pressed upon each other. You can already feel his buttons strain against your shirt as he whistles out through bunched teeth, the breath sharp and warm against the side of your jaw. 'Don't say that. Never say that. It came from you, so it's not-... just, don't say that.'

He blinks, slowly releasing his viper grip.

'I like it. I really do. Thank you.' He motions awkwardly with a flick of his fingers to the side of his neck. 'Would you mind? With the gloves, I'm... not very good with clasps. Haven't, haven't used one in a long time.'

You can't stop your head from nodding, feeling like a wound up spring toy as you unfurled his fingers again and took the gift back. With a final swallow, you try not to turn cerise as you gently roll down the collar of his shirt. It folds easily down over his vest, until your bare fingers are dragging over the naked line of skin on his neck, just teasingly hiding the tense muscles of his upper back.

'You really didn't have to do this for me, you know.'

'Yeah... but I wanted to. You're not as much of an arsehole as Stede tries to make out.' You manage out a giggle, before you're back to biting your bottom lip in concentration, brushing a few strands away from the back of his head.

He wants to say more, but his voice chokes in the back of his throat like rifting water, his mouth trembling as your fingers brush over the coiled grey hairs bristling at the nape of his neck. It feels like a red hot poker is being dragged across his skin; he shivers at the feeling, a tight coil rolling across his limbs before settling uncomfortably heavy in the pit of his stomach.

He looks like he's about to weep when you take a step back, reaching up with a final pat to make sure the little metal swallow that adorns the centre of your necklace is lying perfectly against his breast. You may have lingered there a little longer than necessary... long enough for your palm to begin burning against the firm muscle of his pec, and for Lucius to draw out an enunciated wolf whistle, but it was definitely worth it. Even the sound of Frenchie snickering from the barrel he was perched on down on the deck was drowned out by the thrumming toll in your ears: by the sound of Izzy's sharp breath piercing your ear as he wavered uneasily on the spot. He didn't want to move away from you, not yet. He could barely even hear them. For the first time in his life, he didn't even fucking care. All he could focus on, over the bridge of his nose - through the gentle curls of his tired eyelashes, was you.

He was intoxicated - but even worse, he was finally beginning to understand. By god, he wondered. What the fuck had you done to him? Could this really be what Edward feels? Could anyone, really, feel this much?

'I hear swallows are meant to bring good luck', you state with bated breath, fingering the charm you had picked up from a market stall at the Republic of Pirates for a final time. It had reminded you almost immediately of Izzy: a hidden treasure, glistening white-gold, like fresh sunlight flitting across the glitter combs littered across the sea beds. It had been well buried within piles of muck: old straw, rotten bits of moulding fruit, bloodied bones twisted into odd shapes that you could barely recognise, but it had been lying there. Waiting just for you. A needle in the haystack. The final piece of the puzzle.

Izzy's breath draws in sharply as you absentmindedly begin to brush your pointer finger up and up: tracing the edge of his jaw line before rolling over the same bird tattoo lacing his neck, your eyes still drawn to the gap between his shirt where his Adam's apple lay tautly.

'Yes. Very good luck', he states, amazed he even found his voice. Surprisingly, he doesn't even try to pull away. He lets you trace your finger over the beak, gliding across the round belly until they're dancing teasingly over its tail. In fact, without his wonderous, dipped eyes looking away from you, he seems to be tilting his head in time, allowing you easier access to brush against his skin and steal his soul with every movement.

Before he has time to think of the repercussions of what he was about to do, the leather of his gloves flex around your cheeks and Izzy Hands has bowed his back down over you, lips knocking against yours. It's terse, and rather urgent in its forcefulness; it was both a slip of outrageous passion, and a terse reminder of his years out of practice feeling any sort of physical affection, and yet you couldn't help but brush up even closer to the man. He welcomes you eagerly, even though this eternity lasted only a moment: with his thumb, he tilts the jut of your chin up so he can lick his tongue against your bottom lip all the more easily. His knee slides forward until it knocks against your own, lurching you forward and saving him the embarrassment of having to voluntarily admit to his weakness and slide his other hand around the pulse point of your neck, until he was cradling the bone of your shoulder.

He finally draws back, his tongue darting out to lick along the edge of his top lip. 'Yeah, very lucky indeed.' He seems sorrowful to be letting go of you, but the loud whistling and snorting that begins to bounce back and forth between Stede's crew snaps Izzy back to himself. With a final glance back down to your lips, he struts off to pick up Lucius' long abandoned broom and starts chasing him across the ship with it.

[collinrobinsonsglasses]

Hello there!!

Really adore your "Too Soft to be a Pirate" work!! It's beyond incredible! I can't thank you for such a lovely piece!

Saw your requests are open, so here's my silly little thought:

Izzy Hands x Reader. Mutual pining. Fluff.

Besides being a certified badass, Reader is also a skilled artist. Stede, ever the enjoyer of art, buys the necessary supplies. Here come the portraits, landscapes and so on.

During some moment of quiet on the ship, Izzy is looking for the Reader and finds them in one of the somewhat secluded rooms of the Revenge, making a portrait of Mr. Hands himself.

They talk their pining through as a crew. Maybe even kiss about it lol.

Thank you for you works once again <3

Thank you for all the kind words @imchloefuckingprice-blog <3 I wrote the first part of this in Lucius's point of view, because he's the best when two people don't know how to express their feelings. I hope this was what you were looking for.

Izzy Hands x Reader (GN)

Masterlist

A Brush of Fate

Lucius prided himself on his keen observational skills. After all, he had recognized Stede and Ed’s feelings for each other long before they did. Now, his perceptive gaze focused on the unmistakable connection between you and Izzy. One night, while Lucius sketched and you painted, you opened up to him about your feelings for Izzy. Despite Lucius reassurances, you remained unsure about Izzy reciprocating your emotions. You insisted to Lucius that Izzy was still caught up in his feelings for Blackbeard. However, Lucius saw Izzy’s lingering gaze directed toward you from across the deck, noting his subtle attentiveness as he went out of his way to help you with tasks around the ship.

The more Lucius thought about the relationship between you and Izzy, the more it seemed to fall into place. Your undeniable skill with a sword and adept sailing skills meant you never pissed Izzy off like the other members of Bonnet’s crew. You were a certified badass and your artistic talents formed a quick bond between you and Lucius. You were Lucius’s favorite person on board, second only to Black Pete. Lucius believed Izzy would have to be an idiot not to have feelings for you. However, in Lucius’s opinion, Izzy frequently displayed behaviors that bordered on idiocy. 

“What are you working on today, babes?” Lucius inquired with a smirk as he entered the former ballroom, closing the door behind him. Lucius already knew the answer, observing a subtle shade of red flash across your face. 

In response, you turned the easel to face him and the doorway. Lucius gazed upon the beautiful portrait of Izzy hands before him, experiencing a pang of pity for its painter. 

As a thought crossed Lucius’s mind, he burst into laughter. “I can’t imagine what Stede would say if he knew you were using the paint supplies he bought you to create that. I feel like he would have a conniption.” 

After laying eyes on one of your small paintings, Stede had purchased supplies for you, hoping you would help replace the artworks lost on The Revenge during the era of the kraken. He confided in both you and Lucius, expressing his desire to make the ship feel like home once again. He wanted things to get back to normal and to help Edward feel comfortable. 

“I made those for Stede,” you remarked, and Lucius followed your finger to two paintings leaning against the ship wall to dry. One depicted The Revenge, and Lucius couldn’t help but marvel at the delicate details of the ship, rolling his eyes at your undeniable talent. The other showcased Ed, dressing in his exquisite purple attire from the night of the fancy party. You even included the tiny purple bows adorning his beard. 

“He’ll actually love those,” Lucius huffed, surprised to find no sarcastic comment to direct at the paintings. Playfully, he rested his chin on your shoulder from behind as you both admired the portrait of Izzy. “Now, who will this portrait go to?” Lucius teased. 

“No one. I’ll probably paint over it once I’m done.” 

“Why are you painting it then?” Lucius asked, disappointment evident in his tone. The portrait was beautiful, and he hoped you would give it to Izzy, finally admitting your true feelings. 

“I thought that if I painted Izzy, his face would get out of my head,” you replied quietly, and Lucius couldn’t help but hear the vulnerability in your voice. 

Lucius empathized with that line of thinking, but in a slightly different way. He recalled how he had sketched Blackbeard’s face for weeks, only to be snapped out of it by Black Pete. “I get that,” Lucius replied, pursing his lips and scrunching his face, before lifting his sketchbook to reveal one of the many drawings of Blackbeard. 

He observed the relief that washed over your face at being understood, forming a smile at the drawings. “Flower Blackbeard was my favorite,” you chuckled.

“Maybe…” Lucius lingered, playfully bumping his hip into yours. “You should give Izzy the painting, and that’ll get him out of your head” he suggested with a mischievous glint in his eye. 

You responded with a sarcastic laugh, accompanied by a roll of your eyes. Lucius dropped his playful expression, reciprocating with a roll of his eyes. Deep down, he just wanted you to be happy. Over the past few weeks, Izzy had grown on him, and while he may not have thought Izzy deserved you, it was clear that he was always occupying your thoughts. 

“I’ll leave you to moping and painting then,” Lucius said, patting your shoulder before heading out of the ballroom with a clear objective in mind. 

He found Izzy in the hallway leading to the captain’s quarters, gazing at one of your new paintings Stede had just hung up. This sight caused Lucius to smirk; he knew he was right about how Izzy felt about you. Determined to push you two together, he decided he would do everything he could to make it happen. Lucius was tired of seeing you unhappy when all that seemed necessary was to talk it through. 

“Pretty good, right?” Lucius slid into the spot next to Izzy, crossing his arms and directing his gaze at the painting. The painting depicted a simple sunset over the water, yet it radiated a quiet beauty. 

Izzy only replied with a grunt, clearly annoyed that Lucius had caught him staring at your painting. 

“I didn’t know you were such a lover of art, Iggy,” Lucius continued, attempting to poke at him further. “You and Stede must have so much to discuss.” 

“What the fuck do you want, twatty?” Izzy snapped in response. 

“There’s a leak in the ballroom,” Despite his usual quick-witted nature, he knew this lie lacked conviction. 

“Why the fuck is that my problem?” Izzy grumbled. 

“Blackbeard told me to tell you, so you could fix it.” Lucius’s arms involuntarily squeezed more tightly across his chest as he lied, but he tried to relax once he noticed. 

“Well… you told me, so fuck off.” 

“Oh, absolutely,” Lucius quickly retreated from the conversation, hoping his lie was convincing enough to get Izzy to go where he needed him. Lucius perched himself on one of the mast tops, carefully watching the direction Izzy departed. When he noticed Izzy heading toward the ballroom, Lucius bit his lip with anticipation. 

⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓⚓

Izzy slowly wandered down the hallway, heading towards the ballroom, frustrated at being the one who always had to fix the ship’s problems. He was even more annoyed by Lucius teasing him about you. He couldn’t help but stare at your painting. It was beautiful, just like you. If it was so obvious to Lucius how Izzy felt about you, then you must be aware of it too. Perhaps it was some inside joke between the two of you. Izzy had held feelings for you for quite some time now, witnessing how you found beauty in the small details that most people would overlook. Your ability to turn the mundane into lovely paintings had captivated him, and with each stroke of your brush, his admiration for you grew. 

Feeling discouraged, Izzy had almost decided to give up on his feelings for you when he opened the door to the ballroom and found you immersed in painting. He was taken aback for a moment, not realizing that this was where you created your art, and then confused about why Lucius had sent him here. There were no visible leaks in sight. That’s when he saw a portrait of himself staring back at him. His jaw dropped as he tried to understand the meaning behind the painting. 

“Fuck off, Lucius,” he heard you say as you continued to paint, not turning towards the sound of the door opening. Izzy contemplated whether he should leave, feeling like he had interrupted a private moment. However, in his moment of indecision, you turned around to face him. Izzy observed your eyes widen in surprise, followed by your cheeks blushing a deep shade of scarlet. “You’re not Lucius,” you whispered quietly, regaining your composure. 

Izzy tried to rack his brain, attempting to find a reason why you would be painting him, but he couldn’t come up with a single explanation. A moment of silence stretched between you both as you stared at each other, waiting for the other to speak. Izzy glanced over at the two other paintings in the room. “Are these for Bonnet?” he questioned, gesturing towards all the paintings. 

“Those two are. This one is just something I’m doing for fun,” you replied, and Izzy sensed the nervousness in your demeanor as you spoke. 

“Why?” Izzy inquired. 

“I feel like you have a face that’s worth being painted,” you whispered. 

Izzy didn’t know how to respond to your words; they seemed sincere, but this whole scenario didn’t make sense to him. Why did Lucius send him here? Taking a moment to examine you, he noticed you were in an old, oversized shirt covered in paint. As he gazed at your face, he observed a bit of paint smeared across your nose. He wasn’t sure what information he was trying to glean, but he also enjoyed just looking at you. 

Realizing he had been staring at you for too long without a response, Izzy quickly found his words. “Lucius told me there was a leak in this room.” 

Izzy watched your face contort from one of nervousness to annoyance. 

“Of course he did,” you snapped. Izzy observed as you dropped the paintbrush onto a nearby stoll where your paint sat, glancing towards the door as if you were going to find Lucius yourself to teach him a lesson. “There’s no leak, Izzy.” 

Finally, the pieces snapped together in Izzy’s mind. Lucius’s teasing remark and him sending Izzy to find you painting a picture of him–it was all part of a big joke, and he realized he was the butt of it. Izzy felt anger rising within him. He never expected you to treat him like this, and the revelation left him feeling both hurt and surprised. 

“Oh, I see. You and Mr. Spriggs are joking around and wasting my time,” Izzy spat as he began to turn towards the door to leave. 

“Wait, Iz.” Izzy felt your light grip on his arm, pausing at your touch. “Lucius knows how I feel about you, so I think this was his way of forcing me to tell you. I’m not trying to waste your time or play a joke on you.” 

“How do you feel about me?” Izzy whispered quickly. He felt his demeanor instantly soften and turned back towards you. 

“I like you, Israel Hands,” you said steadily, your big eyes gazing into his, seeming to search for any sort of reaction. 

When he gave none, you grabbed Izzy’s hand, leading him towards the painting, gesturing to your work as you spoke. “On the outside, ruggedly handsome, worn by the sea, tough but your eyes… There’s a gentleness you can see in your eyes. The way they soften when you talk about something you love, the subtle warmth they hold when you smile. I like you because I see a complexity in you, Izzy– a blend of strength and tenderness that intrigues me.” 

Izzy turned towards you, prompting you to face him. His fingers reached up to gently trace the paint on your nose. You closed your eyes at his touch, opening them to meet his gaze once his hand fell from your face. “Paint?” you asked in a soft whisper. 

“I like how you look… even with paint on your face. Especially with paint on your face.” Izzy confessed, his tone tender. “I like you.” 

Izzy gazed down, captivated, as a sweet smile stretched across your face. His eyes lingered on your lips, attempting to memorize their shape and color. A silent anticipation filled the space between you, Izzy pondering the sensation of your lips against his, the curiosity and desire swirling within him. You closed the gap between you, your lips meeting his in a tender kiss. The connection was soft and sweet. Time seemed to stand still as your lips gently explored the contours of Izzy’s. 

“I fucking knew it,” Lucius’s voice rang out from the hallway in delight. 

Izzy immediately let go of you, worried about your reaction to Lucius seeing you with him. You only replied with a giggle, shutting the door quickly. “Fuck off, Lucius,” you sang playfully. 

As your arms warped around Izzy, pulling him in for another kiss, he heard Lucius’s annoyed voice through the door. “I feel like I deserve a thank you, at least.” 

For the first time, Izzy was thankful to Mr. Spriggs for sticking his nose into everyone’s business. Thanks to him, he was getting to hold you in his arms, instead of just having to admire you from afar. You had told Izzy he had a face worth painting, but in Izzy’s mind, you yourself were a work of art.

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

Loyalty

Summary: Izzy Hands has always been loyal, always needed somewhere to place that loyalty, even the crew of the Revenge knew that and could respect it to some extent. Only...they didn't think it was possible for him to be more loyalty to somebody that wasn't Blackbeard. At least...until you come back.

Word Count: 8331

“First mate Hands! Three vessels approaching,” Buttons called from up on the quarterdeck. He didn’t turn to look for the first mate, or anyone else for that matter, he just stared out at the open ocean and the three specks in the distance that were approaching in a V formation.

“Fuck,” Izzy strode over to his side and pulled out his spyglass to get a good luck at the approaching fleet. Three vessels. Three of them. There was no way the Revenge and her crew could take them on, he hoped the winds were right to flee.

All worries of fleeing or fighting left Izzy, leaving him cold and in shock. The flags raised on the three ships were familiar, causing an aching in his chest. A distinct flag he never thought anyone would see again and, somehow, he knew that nobody else had come across the design and claimed it for themselves. Somehow, for some inexplicable reason, he just knew. The way Edward always knew how the weather would turn. He felt it in his goddamned bones, in his very being.

“Fuck…” Izzy’s curse came out weaker this time, breathier.

“Orders?” Buttons asked, not seeming perturbed in any way by Izzy’s reaction. Maybe he just didn’t notice. Izzy hoped he didn’t notice.

“Drop anchor, raise Blackbeard’s flag…and prepare to let them board,” Izzy ordered stiffly.

As if from nowhere, the fucking scribe appeared, always showing up at the worst times. “We’re letting them board?” he asked, both insubordinate and concerned. Where did the little shit even come from? “Shouldn’t we, like…be moving in the other direction, very fast?”

“Nobody fucking asked you,” Izzy snarled. “Just do as I said, I’ll deal with the captains,” he didn’t give them any time to argue with him, already leaving.

“You’re really going to do what he said?” Lucius asked, turning to Buttons. He could smack himself, looking to Buttons of all people for some sensible behaviour.

“Aye, they are the orders,” Buttons nodded. That was that.

“Oh my God, we’re going to die,” Lucius whispered to himself, frowning at the three dots in the distance.

-

Izzy knocked on the door to the captain’s cabin and waited for some muffled shout to be invited in. He already knew this was going to be tricky, so he entered as formally as he could, not looking to cause problems. Not this time. He closed the door and stood in front of the couch where the two captains sat.

“There is a fleet approaching, three ships, we’re preparing to let them board,” Izzy reported.

“Let them board?” Bonnet asked, eyes wide and curious.

“Why the fuck are we doing that?” Edward asked lowly, at least giving Izzy a chance to offer a reasonable explanation.

“It’s Captain L/n,” Izzy told him. Bonnet blinked, wondering if that should mean something to either of them.

Clearly, it meant something to Edward because he tensed a little, glaring at Izzy now. “...so you went above my head?”

“They aren’t here for a fight. We’ve raised Blackbeard’s flag, they’ll know who we are. They aren’t going to raid us,” Izzy reasoned.

“If they’re here, they’re here for us. It’s not a mistake,” Edward agreed with that at least. 

Izzy just nodded, letting Ed believe whatever he wanted to believe. Izzy already knew why you were here, there was only one thing you would come for.

“You know each other?” Stede asked.

Izzy felt the need to roll his eyes but hold himself back. “We used to sail together,” he answered instead before insisting, “they aren’t going to attack us.”

Edward huffed, throwing himself back in his seat. “Fine, whatever. Let us know when they’re preparing to board,” he dismissed the first mate.

“Aye, Captain,” Izzy nodded, taking his leave without complaint nor hesitation.

“Is everything alright?” Stede asked Edward carefully.

“The crew will be fine,” Edward promised, putting those worries to rest. “Haven’t seen L/n in years, they got into some trouble a while back and disappeared. Looks like they got themselves a fleet together, though…”

-

The largest ship in the fleet expertly pulled up along the side of the Revenge and dropped anchor. The crew of the Revenge watched, antsy and curious, as the other ship’s crew prepared the gangplank.

Edward and Stede had come up onto the deck to overwatch the crew and to greet the boarding crew. Izzy stood by Edward’s side, trying not to fidget or bounce his leg in anticipation.

On the deck of the other ship they could see the crew thrumming about, securing the ship, preparing. Izzy’s gaze wandered to the helm, heart skipping a beat when he saw the familiar figure speaking with a member of their crew.

Izzy could already feel the excitement bubbling in his chest.

Once the gangplank was secured, the other crew’s first mate and a gunner crossed over to the Revenge, introducing themselves curtly before glancing over their deck.

“Is Israel Hands here or are we wasting our time?” the first mate asked.

Immediately, the crew of the Revenge was looking at Izzy.

“Fucking hell,” Izzy muttered to himself. “They send you over as a threat?” he asked, unamused.

The first mate looked him up and down. “Yeah, you match the description,” they nodded. “The crew understands?”

“They’ll behave,” Izzy sighed.

The first mate nodded to the gunner, and the gunner returned to their ship. During the wait, Izzy could still feel the eyes on him, and could feel the unasked questions from the crew.

It must have been only a minute at most but, for Izzy, it felt like hours, before you were crossing over the gangplank. Hopping down onto the deck of the Revenge with practised grace.

“Too cowardly to board first?” Edward asked accusingly.

“Too busy to sit through small talk if Israel wasn’t here. I don’t like wasting my time,” you rolled your eyes, not rising to whatever fight he wanted.

Then, in an instant, all of your attention was focused on Izzy. He was older now, of course, as were you, but you would recognise him anywhere. He was looking at you the same way he used to, devoted and adoring, like you were the only other person standing on the crowded deck.

It was too much for him, seeing you, having you look at him like that.

You always could read Izzy well, you would consider yourself fluent in Israel Hands, and you could tell that he was practically shaking to hold himself back, to keep himself composed. You wouldn’t make him wait any longer, you weren’t cruel.

“Oh, Israel, I’ve missed you,” you strode over to him confidently, quick to wrap your arms around him.

Izzy returned the embrace like it was second nature, letting out a heavy sigh of relief, practically melting against you. You couldn’t help yourself, having to run a hand over his hair before forcing yourself to pull away and release him.

Well, you released him for the most part. Your hands remained against his upper arms. “I’ve been away for too long,” you observed but both of you were already well aware of that.

“Where have you been?” Izzy asked, the only thing he could think to say. You had been assumed…dead, disappearing without a trace. Yet here you stood, very much alive. Older than he last saw you but perfectly recognisable to his eye.

“You know about how the navy got a little too close, had to lay low for a while. Got a new crew together, started operating in different waters, took years for everything to cool down but once I got word, I sailed right over here,” you explained, not aiming to make him wait for such an important answer. “Sought out Jackie, of course, she knows everything. Found the Anne but you weren’t there, got into a boring conversation with the quartermaster. Wasn’t making the same mistake once I tracked down the Revenge.”

Izzy seemed to think your story over, trying to figure out whether you were telling the truth or not. You had never lied to him before but you understand that disappearing for years can damage somebody’s trust in you. If his trust in you had faded, you’d make sure to earn it back.

Izzy thought over the details, he supposed they made sense. There technically hadn’t been any proof of your death, just rumours, and the British had continued their search for you after your supposed death. You always had been clever, able to get out of difficult situations. And you were always careful, wouldn’t have risked the lives of your crew by returning too early to the Caribbean.

Izzy gave a slight nod, assuring you that he believed you. That he was glad you were back.

The sound of shifting beside you reminded you that you weren’t as alone as you would have liked to be.

“Alright. I suppose I should speak with the captains of this vessel,” you addressed it to Izzy, not anybody else. Like nobody else mattered.

“If you must,” Izzy mumbled, filling you with a feeling of fondness.

With a hand against Izzy’s back, you turned to the two captains, Izzy following your movements like it was just a natural thing for him to do.

“Sorry to invite myself over but I’ll be out of your hair soon enough,” you promised the two of them, only one of them familiar to you.

“Izzy makes it sound like you and he were friends and you know Edward…I suppose it wouldn’t hurt if you stayed for a little while. Got reacquainted,” Bonnet, you assumed he was, offered.

You looked at Izzy questioningly. “He’s being serious,” he told you with a sigh.

“The Gentleman Pirate,” you nodded in understanding and Stede preened under the recognition. You considered it for a moment before nodding, “I can’t stay long, I have business to attend to, but it would be rude to turn down your offer.”

“Wonderful!” Stede clapped his hands together, though Edwarded looked decidedly less happy about it.

“I’ll let the crew know we’ll be anchored for a little longer than planned,” you announced before turning to Izzy. That’s when the crew really noticed it, the way your gaze locked in and softened as soon as it turned on to Izzy. “Israel, do you have a cabin?” you asked.

“Yes. I’m the first mate,” Izzy answered, as if it was obvious, but not with the irritation he would if one of the crew had asked such a stupid question.

“Good,” you nodded before shrugging, smiling at him. “Though you’ll be staying in my cabin, of course.” The way you said it wasn’t demanding, just as though it was a given.

The captains would sleep in their cabin, Jim and Olu would sleep in their room, Lucius would sleep between Pete and Fang, the crew would sleep under the stars, and Izzy would be staying with you in your cabin. That’s just the way things were.

Izzy just nodded, relaxing at the idea of being welcome in your cabin once again.

“First mate needs to stay aboard the ship,” Edward commanded. In all fairness, it was a fair demand to have.

“We’ll stay anchored, don’t you worry. I’ll even leave a couple crew members over here if it makes you feel better. But Israel will be staying with me,” you really didn’t think Edward was asking too much, just for some security that you would kidnap his first mate, but you made sure he knew that you weren’t asking him.

“Izzy,” Edward looked to his first mate then, expecting him to agree with him.

“I’ll be fine, Edward,” Izzy promised him.

Edward opened his mouth to argue but no words came out, he looked stunned. You decided that was enough of a confirmation for you. 

The crew just watched, feeling dumbfounded, as you spoke quietly against Izzy’s ear and guided him over the gangplank and onto your ship. Watched how your hand sat against his lower back, thumb stroking up and down against his leather waistcoat. Watched how easily Izzy let you lead him.

Once you crossed over to your ship, you quickly announced to the crew that you would be sticking around for a little while. Your crew just nodded, accepting the small change in plans, and starting preparing for their stay.

With your crew up to date and content, you led Izzy to your cabin. As soon as he was through the threshold and the door had clicked shut behind him, Izzy felt himself relaxing completely.

“I thought you were dead,” Izzy heard his voice before he even realised he was speaking. It was quiet and water.

“Oh, sweetie,” you were in front of him in an instant, his face cradled in your hands. “I won’t lie, it was a close call for a while, but I’m here and I’m perfectly fine. Better than ever, actually. Went from one ship to three…just one thing missing, the very thing I’ve been tracking down since I returned to the Caribbean.”

“And what’s that?” he asked quietly, desperately. He needed to hear it.

“Oh, please, you just like to hear me say it,” you accused fondly before your expression softened completely, thumbs brushing over his cheekbones. “You, baby.”

Clearly, that was the right answer, because Izzy all but threw himself into your arms. Clinging to you.

“I’ve got you, sweet thing, and this time I’m not going anywhere,” you promised, carding fingers through his hair.

“You’ll have to leave, you have a fleet…responsibilities…” Izzy mumbled into your shoulder.

You paused for a moment, earning a displeased sound from the man in your arms. “It really has been a long time, I didn’t realise I had to ask,” you whispered, prying him off of you as gently as you could but you needed him to look you in the eyes for this. “I want you to come with me, Iz. Will you come with me? Will you come home?”

Izzy felt like he was floating, glowing. He felt warm. “Nowhere else I’d rather be,” and everything about the way he looked at you told you that he meant it.

You smiled, kissing his temple before guiding him back into your embrace. It was good to have him back in his arms.

“Edward won’t be happy,” Izzy warned you. All he really wanted was to lock himself away with you, to lock the world out, but he couldn’t ignore the reality on the other side of your door.

“Nobody with a lick of common sense would be happy about losing you, baby, but we’ll handle it,” you promised.

“He won’t like that you’re poaching a member of his crew. Especially not his first mate,” Izzy was fretting, he always was so good at that.

You buried your fingers in his hair, gently massaging his scalp. “Let me handle it, sweetheart. Do you trust me to do that?”

“‘Course, I do,” Izzy almost sounded offended. Offended that you thought he wouldn’t trust you.

“I’ve got you. Edward never really did, he knows that,” you soothed him. There had always been an unspoken understanding. He could run around with Izzy trailing after him but he was only ever borrowing the man. No matter what, no matter what he did or what they became, Israel Hands was yours and always would be.

“I’m yours,” Izzy stated firmly.

“I know, Love. Just as I am yours.” Izzy hummed as you pulled back just enough to press a tender kiss to his lips.

You always did that, always insisted on it. You were his just as he was yours, you belonged to each other in any way you wanted too. His loyalty was always reciprocated by you.

When you pulled away from him again, you noticed that a few tears had slipped down his cheeks.

“Oh, love,” you cooed, brushing away the tears.

“Sorry,” Izzy apologised, feeling like he had somehow ruined the mood. A reunion was supposed to be a happy thing and he was happy, and yet here he was crying.

“Don’t apologise, it’s alright,” you tutted softly. “What’s wrong?” 

“Just…missed you,” he confessed.

“I missed you too, more than I ever realised possible.” In all honesty, you were a little surprised you haven't teared up yet. You supposed you had more time to process, having been searching for Izzy for so long, while Izzy only just realised you weren’t dead today.“Come on, let’s get you comfortable and maybe some tea,” you suggested.

“That sounds nice,” Izzy nodded softly.

“I’ll get you some comfortable clothes, I got you a few things,” you offered, unfortunately having to release Izzy completely.

“You didn’t need to do that,” he frowned a little, watching you move through your cabin.

“I just wanted to be prepared if you agreed to come with me,” you shrugged. As if buying Izzy some extra clothes was a big deal, you would do anything for him, this was nothing.

“‘Course I’d come with you,” he responded quickly, as if you might actually be doubting that.

“I know, love. It’s just been a long time, I suppose I had to prepare myself in case things had changed,” you admitted with a small sigh. Mostly, you had felt confident that you and Izzy would fall in together like anything had barely changed, because the two of you were just…right.

“They haven’t.” It wasn’t the complete truth. So much had changed between him and Edward since you first went your separate ways, things had changed in ways that he hadn’t even thought possible. A lot of that change began when they got word of your disappearance, Edward hadn’t liked how Izzy mourned then Ed’s dark moods started getting more frequent.

So much had changed, but not the way Izzy felt about you. That just wasn’t possible.

-

“No wonder Izzy’s been a miserable pain in the arse,” Lucius commented, sounding somewhat sympathetic for the prickly old man. Almost as if he had developed some new understanding, even if he had been a pain in his arse.

“What do you mean?” Pete asked with a little frown. 

In truth, the whole crew had been thrown by the recent events. The pirate captain who boarded their ship with grace and confidence, barely acknowledged Blackbeard and Stede before whisking Izzy Hands away without a single complaint from him.

“He’s been separated from the person he loves!” Lucius declared like it was the most obvious thing in the world, grabbing the attention of the rest of the crew that lingered on the deck.

“Oh…oh yeah, I can see that,” Pete nodded. He hadn’t really considered Izzy having some long lost love that made him the way he was but now that Lucius mentioned it, that did look like a sweet reunion, the restraint obvious on both sides. Then Pete frowned, suddenly feeling a little sad. “I couldn’t be apart from you for years, babe.”

“Aw, neither could I, babe,” Lucius lent into his side, kissing his cheek that plastered a grin on his face.

“Iz isn’t like that, don’t worry,” Edward scoffed, coming up behind the two of them, drawing more attention to their conversation.

Lucius only jumped a little at the sudden appearance before frowning in confusion. “What do you mean by that?”

“Iz,” Edward shrugged, “he isn’t all sappy or whatever.”

“You’re kidding right?” Lucius just looked at the bearded man, certain that he was joking with him. He wasn’t. “Sure, clearly he shows it in a different way. He’s a devoted little fucker, but he’s very clearly sentimental. I’ve never seen him look so…relaxed and comfortable than when they hugged him.” He couldn’t truly believe that Edward couldn’t see that. Perhaps denial was more rampant in pirates than he first thought.

“They used to sail together, they were his superior for some time. He’s just loyal,” Edward shrugged again, though seemed a little less sure of his words this time.

“But…more loyal to them than he is to you…” Lucius observed, making Edward frown. “If that weren’t true, he wouldn’t have even left the ship, right?” he wasn’t sure why he was pushing the matter so much, maybe it was his own nosiness.

Clearly, Edward didn’t like what he had to say though because he was soon stomping off with Stede hurrying after him. Probably with a lot of questions about what just happened.

-

You couldn’t help but smile against the rim of your teacup. Already, Izzy looked more relaxed than he did when you first stepped aboard the Revenge. He sat on the other side of the couch, his feet propped up in your lap, shoulders drooping with tiredness, and his hair slightly mussed up from your attention as he sipped from his own cup.

A knock on the door had him tensing, though. You tried not to react too much, hoping he could fall back into that safe space the two of you had once created together a long time ago. You just dropped one hand down to his ankle as you called for the guest to let themselves in.

Your first mate stepped into your quarters. The whole time the two of you conversed about Captain Bonnet having apparently invited you and Izzy to dinner in their cabin, you rubbed soft circles against Izzy’s ankle. He managed to relax under your touch, not seeming to mind the extra set of eyes in the room then.

“Dinner?” you hummed, “what do you say?” 

Izzy was pondering over his answer before he even truly processed that you were asking him. Nobody asked his opinion about things these days, Edward used to of course but recently it was just whatever whim either he or Bonnet wanted to pursue.

“Sure, have to face them sometime,” Izzy muttered into his cup before drinking from it again.

You gave his ankle a small squeeze of reassurance before facing your first mate again. “Tell the captains we’ll be there,” you ordered. They nodded and left without another word, you were pretty sure they knew that you didn’t wish to be interrupted unless it was an emergency for a little while. They knew how much time and work and even coin in some cases you had put into tracking down your dear Israel Hands.

Once the door was shut, you gave Izzy a moment to be sure that your first mate was gone, before turning to him with a serious expression.

“Izzy, we don’t have to tell them that you plan to leave or anything yet. We’ll hang around for a few days so everything’s not so sudden, okay?” you assured him. “I thought we’d have at least until the morning before seeing them again, if I’m being honest,” that earnt a small blush from Izzy, “I’ll just follow your lead on the matter.”

“Thank you,” Izzy sighed, deflating against the arm of the couch. In the back of his mind he was vaguely grateful for the fact that you had tutted at him and shoved a cushion behind his back when he sat down.

“Anything for you, my darling,” you smiled, stroking your hand up and down his calf as you finished your tea.

-

You were right on time for your dinner with the captains of the Revenge, you didn’t want to be any ruder than necessary after all. Edward had his back up as soon as you stepped through the door and he noticed Izzy’s new clothes, clothes that he was certain Izzy didn’t own and yet seemed to fit him almost perfectly. 

Of course, you had to make some guesses about Izzy’s sizes when you bought the clothes but you could easily have them tailored to fit him perfectly, you were pretty pleased with yourself for getting it this close anyway. 

Stede had also seemed a little thrown off, blinking at Izzy’s new look. Honestly, it wasn’t a drastic difference. He had just switched his leather pants to black cotton for the sake of comfort and was wearing a deep blue shirt, he always had preferred to wear darker shades, under his waistcoat.

Stede shook it off quickly, politely welcoming you and inviting you both to sit at the table. Izzy sat by your side without any prompting, without even thinking about it really, while Edward and Stede sat opposite you both.

You were at least rather impressed with the meal their cook, Roach, had prepared for the four of you. It just about made up for the tension that lingered at the table.

“So, how do you know Edward and Izzy?” Stede asked, a clear attempt at making polite conversation. You could appreciate the effort.

“Used to sail together, long before Edward or I became captains,” you told him.

“They were on the first ship I joined,” Izzy added, making you smile a little. You hadn’t really expected him to tell any sort of story but you weren’t disappointed about it in the slightest. “They were a few years older than me.”

“Took my little dove under my wing,” you teased, tapping your knee against his under the table and making Izzy blush. You had wondered if he would fluster as easily as he used to, assumed that he wouldn’t, but you were definitely pleased to find it was just as easy as ever. “I became quartermaster shortly after Israel joined us and he was the smallest boy on the crew,” you recalled fondly.

“Fuck off,” Izzy muttered, “just ‘cause you had a growth spurt.”

You gave him another fond smile, one that was reserved purely for him, before looking at Stede again. “We sailed together for a good couple of years before Edward joined the crew.”

“Yeah, then we mutinied Hornigold,” Ed grinned, perking up at his chance to contribute.

“Me and some of the crew had already made plans to head out on our own, we all agreed I would captain,” you nodded, “Izzy and Eddie left with me at first, guess it was just easier that way. Once we raided a decent ship, Edward wanted to leave and captain his own crew, wanted to build a legend.”

“I knew he could do it and I wanted to help him achieve it,” Izzy smiled a little to himself.

“And they did it,” you grinned proudly at Izzy. You were honestly proud of both of them but Izzy had always been so dear to you, Edward knew you only had eyes for him.

“Legends are just that, though,” Izzy sighed, “then the legend gets bored of his own story.”

“Iz-” Edward’s expression dropped.

“No, Edward, it’s fine. Guess I got tired of it too,” Izzy confessed, poking at his food a little, “...around the time we caught word of Y/N’s disappearance.”

You couldn’t help yourself, feeling the overwhelming need to comfort him. You placed your hand on top of his.

“Knew something changed, wasn’t sure what it was,” Edward admitted with a small frown. He knew something had changed, could slap himself for not realising what it was.

“Guess I realised a legend doesn’t really mean anything. At that point it just assured our safety, other crews didn’t fight back, raids were less risky, and that was enough for me,” Izzy continued, letting you take hold of his hand properly, letting it ground and support him, “but it wasn’t enough for you and you got bored.”

Edward nodded his agreement, looking a little guilty about it. “Just became a trudge, y’know?”

Izzy agreed, he did know, he had seen it on Ed’s face day after day. Surviving had been enough for him at the time, still would be if your fleet hadn’t sailed towards them he imagined.

“Sorry, Iz,” Edward sounded genuinely apologetic, a heaviness lingered over their time together and all either of them could really do now was acknowledge it and offer condolences.

“Me too, Ed,” Izzy returned, as equally apologetic and guilty looking.

You were almost smiling, proud of them for being able to see things from each other’s perspective even if it was only just a little bit right now. Then Stede had to go and talk. “Well, I hope we can all agree that things worked out in the end,” he smiled and knew he meant well but…

Edward didn’t respond, just gave him a faint smile, while Izzy scowled and you blatantly ignored his comment.

The rest of dinner continued in mostly silence, Stede occasionally commenting on some side and how it was prepared or asking questions about your travels during the time of your ‘disappearance’. You had actually enjoyed the conversation until he said ‘that sounds marvellous! A real adventure!” Again, you knew he meant well, and he was right in a way, some of the things you did and saw could be described as marvellous, it wasn’t all misery once you pulled everything together, but it left a sour taste in your mouth.

It wasn’t long before it came to dessert, Roach bringing in a tray of different flavoured tarts. Roach received the compliments for his hard work before leaving the captain’s quarters.

Stede and Edward were quick to pick their favoured flavour, familiar with the cook’s pastries. You glanced over them, considering, before picking the one you thought you’d prefer.

Before you ate, though, you noticed Izzy frowning at the selection in that way he does. Not frowning because he was upset or displeased, more out of confusion and thought than anything.

“Here, you’ll like this one,” you picked up a lemon tart and placed it in front of him, “it’s lemon and the texture is more like cream than jam.” If Izzy’s preferences in sweets were anything like they used to be, you were certain he would prefer this tart.

Always trusting your advice, Izzy took a bite of the tart. Your heart fluttered at his little hum of approval. There was so much to learn about Izzy that was new, but it was comforting to be reassured that you still knew him well.

“Good?” you asked, casually.

“Good, thank you,” Izzy nodded, taking another bite of the dessert.

Stede watched the little interaction and felt familiarity pang in his chest, he could easily recall sharing new recipes and luxuries with Edward. He always assumed that Izzy couldn’t stand anything that wasn’t for the purpose of base survival, now he wondered if he just didn’t like him and the Revenge. Yeah, that seemed to make the most sense…

After eating, the captains of the Revenge asked you both to share a drink with them. Izzy had given you a small nod and you had accepted their invitation. Stede poured you each a port and chattered about his recent adventures with Blackbeard and his first mate. The exaggerated storytelling and rambling was enough to have Izzy’s patience wearing thin.

“You should check in with your crew,” Izzy suggested quietly when he saw the chance, a light lull in conversation. You took the hint, he wanted to leave and you wouldn’t deprive him of that. There were other places you would rather be as well.

“Good idea, hun,” you smiled, nothing but adoration in your expression, as you placed your empty glass down. “Always one step ahead,” you placed your hand on Izzy’s shoulder as you stood.

You said your polite goodbyes to the captains before heading for the door, Izzy right by your side, only holding back a few inches when you had to pull the door open.

“Izzy,” Edward’s voice brought you both to a halt, turning back to face him. “You’re not leaving, are you?” he asked. It was obvious that he meant for good, not just for now.

“Ed…” Izzy sighed. He really had hoped this would wait until morning, to give him just a little more time with you before he had to deal with this.

Apparently that was enough of an answer for his captain, former captain? “After all these years?”

You glared a little, not liking that Edward was making Izzy feel bad but you let it go, not wanting to involve yourself unless you thought it truly necessary.

Some like hurt flashed across Izzy’s face, some old ache returning. “I thought they were dead, Edward. I thought that I left, and they died, and I would never see them again,” he told him with some slight panic. You moved closer instinctively at his distress, placing a hand against his back. “I can’t lose them again,” Izzy confessed plainly, voice rough.

Edward was about to speak but you got there first, needing Izzy to understand what you wanted from him. “You won’t lose me if you stay, Izzy. I hope that isn’t why you’re coming with me. You’ll always be mine.”

“I know,” Izzy looked at you with wide eyes, eager to correct you. “I want to come with you.” That was all you needed to hear.

“Izzy-” Edward tried again.

“Ed, if you can give up Blackbeard, I can give up First Mate Hands,” Izzy insisted. He couldn’t be sure that Edward was going to try to convince him to stay but he refused to risk it, couldn’t handle that right now. Today had been…a lot, and that was a wild understatement.

“We’ll stay for another couple of days, but we can’t stay any longer,” you told the captains. “But it’s late, we’ll discuss this further tomorrow if you wish,” the way you spoke assured them that there was no room for argument but that you would keep that promise. If they wanted to speak further on the matter, it would happen tomorrow, not tonight.

Izzy was tense as the two of you left the cabin but pressing into your touch the whole way across the deck and the gangplank. You didn’t speak until you were aboard your ship again.

“How are you feeling, love?”

Izzy actually took the time to consider it, to assess himself and try to put words to how he was feeling. He never was particularly good at that but you had always insisted on him trying his best. “Good…good, actually,” his answer was a little quiet, a little breathy, like he was surprised by his own answer.

“It’s okay if you’ll miss him, he’s been your best mate for years,” you told him.

“Just don’t want to hurt him,” Izzy confessed sincerely.

“He’s a grown man, he’ll manage. And you’ll see him again,” you wanted him to know that if he wanted to see Edward again, then of course he would be able to and you would make sure it happened.

“I’m not having second thoughts, I want you to know that,” Izzy’s glossy eyes focused on you again, his words firm, like you could ever doubt him.

“I know that, just making sure you’re alright, hun,” you promised, rubbing small circles against his back. “Now, should we go to bed?”

“Please,” Izzy let out a heavy breath like some weight had been lifted from him and he could finally breathe properly.

Without hesitation, you led Izzy back to your quarters where he could properly unwind and the two of you could get properly reacquainted without any further interruptions.

-

The next day you had made yourself comfortable over on the Revenge, not wanting to be too far away from Izzy as he continued on with his first mate duties. You couldn’t help but watch over the strange crew with amusement, they were certainly endearing but not the best sailors. You bet the whole thing was driving Izzy insane.

“Still have your midday coffee?” Izzy asked, bringing you out of your musings.

You turned to him with a smile, accepting the warm mug from him. “I do, I always get drowsy this time of day. Don’t have to sneak them anymore now, though,” you sipped the coffee, sighing, pleased, as you lowered the cup. “It’s around lunch, did you get yourself something?” you asked.

“Nah,” Izzy shrugged.

“Go and get something, even if it’s just an orange. If you don’t fancy anything down in the galley, my cook will whip something up for you. They love a challenge,” you insisted, your demand soft and made out of nothing but care.

“An orange is fine,” Izzy rolled his eyes, “I’ll get you one too.”

Before you could huff and insist that he doesn’t need to fetch you things, he was already gone. You shook your head in slight exasperation but smiled fondly as you sipped at your coffee, made just the way you like it. It seems that he had remembered some things as well.

“He makes quite the little errand boy, huh?” a younger man came up to your side.

You instantly went tense, expression darkening as you turned to him and lowered your mug. “You’re Spriggs, the scribe?” you squinted at him.

“Izzy talked about me?” Lucius asked, preening somewhat.

“He’s mentioned you,” you nodded, letting him bask in the satisfaction before stepping up to him. “One more word about him and I’ll slice your dick like an onion.”

In an instant, Lucius froze and stared at you with wide eyes. “Why an onion?” he was already cursing himself for asking a stupid question instead of fleeing. He didn’t know you well but he had a feeling that you would follow through on the threat.

“Would you rather I cut it into neat little segments like an orange?” you cocked an eyebrow at him.

“Uh…no?” Lucius answered carefully, unsure if you even wanted an answer.

“Go,” you rolled your eyes as he scampered off.

Izzy returned shortly after with two peeled oranges. “Why did the scribe look like he was about to hurl?” he asked, only a little accusingly.

“Dunno,” you shrugged innocently, accepting one of the oranges.

Izzy hummed, standing by your side, close enough that your arms brushed against each other’s. “You threaten him?” 

“Maybe…”

“...dick onion again?”

“It’s effective,” you smirked to yourself, “nobody says a bad word about you if I have anything to do about it.”

Izzy huffed but you caught the way his cheek turned a light pink. “Don’t need protecting.”

“Of course you don’t, you’re a fucking vision with a blade. But I like taking care of you…and maybe I like threatening people just a little, but mostly taking care of you,” you teased, leaning your shoulder against his. “I’m always going to have your back, Izzy, my love,” you kissed his cheek.

Izzy sighed but was unable to suppress a little smile. He’ll forgive himself, he didn’t think anyone saw it.

-

It was just like Izzy to insist on doing his job until he had officially left The Revenge and joined your crew. You didn’t mind though, patiently waiting for him to finish his nightly rounds.

The rest of the crew was sitting around with some drink and telling stories, they had pestered you to join them and you didn’t see the harm in it. You accepted the bottle of rum they handed you but mostly just held it in your lap as you listened to their tales.

Izzy finished up his rounds, as satisfied with the condition of the ship as he could be. He glanced around the deck to see where you were waiting for him and saw you sitting with the crew. Suddenly, he felt unsure if he should interrupt but there was a little voice in the back of his mind that reminded him that it was you, and there was no such thing as interrupting when it came to the two of you.

“Finished my rounds,” Izzy announced as he came up to the group, getting your attention.

Immediately, you turned your attention to him with a smile. Unfortunately, you didn’t have the time to respond before the others were speaking.

“Join us, Izzy,” Lucius encouraged. You looked him up and down but saw that he was being sincere, so you didn’t comment on it.

“Yeah, they just told us all about the Hornigold mutiny. Totally badass,” Pete grinned, hooked on the stories you had to tell.

Izzy frowned at the group, all looking at him with varying levels of eagerness but all seeming pretty welcoming, before looking to you. “Are they mocking?” he asked with a small snarl.

“No, darling. They just enjoyed the story,” you assured him, smiling even when your heart ached. “Do you want to sit or do you want to go back to our cabin?”

Truthfully, Izzy didn’t want to spend time with the rest of the crew but he didn’t want to ruin your fun either…

So, he just sat beside you in response.

You smiled and shifted closer to him, placing a hand on his knee. “This guy is fascinating,” you told him, gesturing to the Swede, who preened and blushed under your comment.

“Really?” Izzy asked, unamused.

“The stories he has are insane. Don’t know how many of them I believe but entertaining nonetheless,” you insisted, “born under blood rain, now that’s a great start to a story.”

Izzy rolled his eyes but he had to admit that was a tale he and Ed might have tried to sell under the legend of Blackbeard.

“Drink?” you offered your bottle to him.

“No, thanks.” 

You nodded, placing the rum bottle beside your feet.

The crew quickly fell back into their dramatic stories, trying to one up each other in entertainment.

Once you were certain that the crew was distracted enough, you lent into Izzy and spoke low against his ear so only he could hear you.

“We don’t have to stay if you don’t want to,” you could sense he wasn’t exactly comfortable, you didn’t have to know him that well to realise that, and you didn’t want him to force himself to do anything.

“It’s fine,” Izzy mumbled back.

That just confirmed to you that you were right.

“Come on, let’s turn in for the night,” you patted his knee, shifting to stand.

“No,” he clasped your hand tightly, stopping you from standing, looking a little worried when you met his gaze.

“What’s wrong?” you squeezed his hand comfortingly, making sure to stay quiet and now draw anyone’s attention.

“Nothing, it’s fine. We can stay.” Izzy couldn’t quite hold your gaze and you made up your mind.

“Well, it was good sitting with you guys but I really should go check on my crew,” you declared as you stood from your seat, gently tugging Izzy to his feet again. Despite his halfhearted protests a second ago, he followed without argument.

The crew wished you a goodnight and didn’t try to stop you when you left, returning to your ship with Izzy in tow.

You greeted your own crew and bid them all a goodnight before disappearing into your quarters.

“You didn’t have to do that,” Izzy complained as soon as the cabin door was shut. “You could have stayed if you wanted too.”

You nearly rolled your eyes. Of course you could have stayed if you wanted too, just as he could have stayed without you if he wanted, or asked to return to the ship if he wanted. You didn’t roll your eyes though, understanding that this was stemming from something deeper.

“All I want is to be with you, my dove,” you promised him, taking his hands in yours. “I’ve spent enough time drinking and telling tales and I haven’t spent nearly enough time in your company.”

“You sure?” How could the infamous Izzy Hands, best sword in the Caribbean, look so vulnerable and unsure? His eyes just gave everything away.

“I’m completely certain,” you answered firmly but with an underlying tenderness.“You don’t have to do anything you don’t want or aren’t comfortable with,” you quickly kissed the tip of his nose.

Izzy flushed and grumbled a little but you still saw the way he smiled to himself. “Are we still leaving tomorrow?” he asked.

“We are. If you’re still okay with that,” you nodded.

“I am.”

You smiled softly, placing a hand on the back of Izzy’s neck and touching his forehead to yours. “Good. I was thinking we could have breakfast with Ed and Stede in the morning, say goodbye properly before heading out. It’s your choice,” you suggested.

Izzy hummed in thought before nodding slightly, leaning into you some more. “...we can have breakfast.”

-

You had decided to host breakfast in your quarters, figuring it would be the polite thing to do, where Izzy’s belongings had already been put away neatly, like they had been there all along. You couldn’t wait for the cabin to properly look like it was lived in by Izzy.

After breakfast, which went surprisingly well, you and Izzy walked Edward and Stede to the gangplank. “It really was good seeing you again, Edward,” and you really did mean it, you had been friends once upon a time. “No hard feelings, right?”

Edward looked at Izzy and saw the way the tension in his shoulders was less than he could ever remember seeing. “Yeah, no hard feelings,” he nodded, a little hesitantly.

You smiled, glad. You really hadn’t come to cause trouble, just to get your Israel back.

“And it was fascinating to meet you, Captain Bonnet,” you hadn’t fully decided if that was a compliment or not. Izzy did seem fond of him and that had clouded your judgement, you could admit that. 

“Likewise,” Stede grinned, “feel free to visit anytime.”

“See you around, Iz,” Edward nodded to his former first mate and long term friend, a weight to his words.

“See ya, Edward,” Izzy nodded back, just as heavy.

Edward and Stede returned to the Revenge and your crew took down the gangplank.

“Ready, love?” you asked, touching your hand to Izzy’s elbow.

“Ready,” Izzy nodded, sounding sure of himself.

You shouted for the crew to raise anchor and set on the course you had previously given them. The crew called back their acknowledgements and got to work.

You smiled at your bustling crew before leaning against Izzy, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “Welcome home, my dove.”

“Don’t think that petname really fits me anymore,” Izzy grunted, making you chuckle.

“Nonsense. You’ll always be my dove,” you tutted. Izzy sighed softly as you ran your fingers through his hair, honestly enjoying watching a competent crew working again. “We’re heading to port, going to give the crew some extra coin and shoreleave for a job well done. Think they can manage sailing straight for a few days,” you hummed.

Izzy looked around the deck, seeing your crew bustling and busy, talking between themselves as they worked diligently. “Look like they have it handled,” he agreed.

Your hand settled against his lower back as the two of you returned to your quarters. Once inside, you shrugged off your coat and folded it neatly over the back of a chair. The cabin had already been cleaned up from your breakfast meeting.

“Can I ask a question?”

You frowned a little as you turned to Izzy, hoping he was only asking such a question as a formality. “Of course,” you nodded.

“What is my position among the crew?” he asked.

“What do you mean?”

“You already have a first mate and I don’t like the title of ‘bed warmer’.”

You were taken aback by his words, as if you would ever refer to him as such or allow anyone else to do so. “Izzy, you don’t think…that’s not how the crew sees you, I promise. You’re a respected pirate, a respected member of the crew. When I told the crew just who we were looking for, they were excited to have Israel Hands on the crew.”

“I would just like to know my position,” he sighed, still as stubborn as ever.

“I suppose I didn’t really think about it, was too focused on just getting you back,” you admitted. “I would offer you the position of first mate but…well, mine is very loyal and put a lot of work into helping me track you down. It would be wrong to demote them. But you’re far too qualified for a lower rank,” you thought out loud before your face lit up, an idea coming to you. “How do you fancy being co-captains?”

“Co-captain?” Izzy gaped at you. “You’re joking?”

“If Blackbeard can do it, so can I,” you shrugged.

“Co-captains, a fucking stupid thing,” Izzy muttered. He really wasn’t ready to be taking ideas or suggestions from Stede fucking Bonnet. “Could just be…could just be your partner…”

“Partner, captain. Whatever you want. Either way, you’ll be respected and listened to aboard this vessel. You have my word,” you vowed.

“I believe you.” He always did, you never gave him a reason not to.

You met him where he stood, snaking your arms around him. “I can’t believe I have you back.”

“I can’t believe you’re back,” he breathed, settling his hands on you, just needing to touch and feel. Still needing to remind himself that you were alive, you were here, and you were real.

“Never going anywhere without you again,” you promised. “Will have to fucking kill me,” your dedication sent a shive down Izzy’s spine. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” It felt like a prayer falling from Izzy’s lips. How long had he longed to hear you say those words again, to be able to speak those words again?

“Thank you for keeping this,” you whispered against his lips, toying with the ring on his necktie.

“As if I’d ever stop wearing it,” Izzy had never even considered it, had only taken it off of his finger before it began to feel heavy on his hand. It was too easy for him to see, to remind him. So he moved it to his neck, wanting everyone to know that somebody had gifted him such a ring once, cherishing it, while clad in black in mourning.

Izzy didn’t need to mourn any longer because you were here, holding him and kissing him. He would have to put his ring back on his finger.

[caitlinsnicket]

izzy hands sfw headcanons part 1

a/n: i was gonna make one post with all the headcanons, then i was gonna split nsfw from sfw, and now i had to split the sfw because it's too big. part 2 here. part 3 here. im losing it

repressed little angry man with his repressed little feelings

his loyalty is yours. privately, yes, but yours. he'd put himself between anything and anyone for you

he carves wooden things for you, sea animals, boats and anything else you mention you like. he might give it to you directly or just leave it in your things

when you thank him, he either calls you twat and tells you to fuck off or just nods his head with a little smile on his face

if you ask him to, he'll sing for you, and blush while doing it

it also becomes a habit between the two of you to sing together in the privacy of his cabin, slowdancing with the melody

he also sings sometimes to wake you up because he knows you like his raspy voice

fuuuuuuck his raspy voice. gets raspier in the mornings, and it never fails to make your knees buckle. because he knows that, it's not unusual for him to sneak behind you to whisper nonsense in your ear

praises you for anything you do, even things unrelated to piracy. you make a good knot? "that's very good". you manage to cook a half decent egg? "it's perfect, love". you style his hair in a different way for fun? "i've never looked so good. that's all you, dear"

he starts wearing fingerless gloves to feel your skin against his at all times

physical touch is mandatory and something he craves constantly, specially when you're in his line of sight

sometimes you think he's purring when you give him any kind of physical affection, but that's only a theory that you keep private

his pda evolves around kissing your hand while being flirty

big attatchment issues. as in he'll freak out a little if he doesn't know where you are

he's always worrying about you, in what he believes is a subtle manner. in front of the crew, he pretends he's going to chastise you in private, when in reality he's just asking you if you need anything or if you're tired

likes to boss you around for funsies, but if you'd rather sit still and look pretty for him, he's happy to ignore the rest of the crew's protests at your special treatment

likes to teach you things around the ship just to be close to you and feel pride at how fast you're learning (praise him for being a good teacher, you might make him blush).

might slap you in the ass if you do a good job and no one is around to tease him

he's always baffled by how much you want him, and not just in the physical sense. when he sees how much you're working for the relationship to function, how much effort you put into making him happy, he's at a loss of words

he's worried that you were going to be put-off by his violence, but when you welcome it as just another lovable part of him, he knows you're the one

if you use violence for him (to protect or defend), he'll have to use every fiber of his being to hold back tears. having people care for him is a new experience, and it becomes overwhelming

he's incredibly funny when he wants to, and not just when he's bitching about the crew. just funny

will do anything to make you smile or laugh at him. it's not uncommon to see him joining in on the crew's shenanigans just to see you happy

when he's sad he'll go quiet, sad puppy eyes looking defeated, and it's very likely he'll lash out on the crew

he cries a lot, violently, his sobs go through his whole body and he shakes so much you thought he had a cold the first time it happened

when you wipe away his tears and just hold him close, he almost believes he deserves to be loved

he fusses a lot when you try to comfort him, wiggling away from your grasp and telling you to fuck off, before melting into you and breaking down in your arms

it's very difficult for him to accept these kinds of things, so praise him while you're at it, give him positive reinforcement and he'll get used to the comfort you provide him

his smiles light up the world, but you can't tell him that otherwise he'll hold himself back. unless you're both alone, in his cabin, huddled together and he smiles at you, you trace the wrinkles around his eyes and mouth and just whisper "you're fucking beautiful", he'll blush and bury his face on your hands, a low rumble on his chest

[pandalorian36]

Izzy x (Genderneutral)Reader

Ed reveals the reason Izzy is always so grumpy and short tempered is because he got separated from you.

Warnings: Mentions of blood, knives/swords. Word count: 4655

Izzy stomps away from yet another shouting match muttering under his breath as he goes the rest of the crew staring after him in a state of shock. He had never yelled that much for something so little. Lucius had kissed Pete on the cheek and next thing Izzy was yelling and cursing about everything. “Well, that was intense.” Lucius nods agreeing with his partner just as Stede and Ed emerge onto deck “What the blazes was that all about?” Ed glances over at his first mate and Roach speaks up “Izzy snapped.”

Ed nods slightly “We heard that. Why?” Lucius glances at Pete “I kissed Pete on the cheek.” Stede looks shocked “Something so small? Really? We thought someone had broken the ship.” Ed looks confused a moment before looking up speaking quickly “What’s the date?”

“Sorry?”

“The date. Today. What is it?”

Lucius looks at the diary tucked under his arm “June 2nd possibly 3rd.” Ed, Ivan and Fang all exchange a look of understanding “June 3rd. I’ll go check on him.” Ed leaves the rest of the crew gathering around Ivan and Fang who clearly have the rest of the story. Stede pipes up “What happened June 3rd?" Ivan sighs shrugging “It was just over two years ago. We raided a merchant vessel, turned out to have a lot more weapons on board than we intended and was actually full of trained soldiers. We managed to set the ship a light and get back to the Queen Anne when the flames hit a gunpowder storage. Lucky our ship wasn’t damaged, but it caused a big confusion.”

He stops and Fang takes over the story “those that were on the main deck didn’t get injured, but it did confuse us enough that the merchant crew managed to take charge. Two of our crew where captured which did allow the rest to escape but Ed forbid us from going back. We now know one was killed but the second we don’t know. Their name was Y/N, they were Izzy’s. Partner? Lover? Companion? Actually, I’m not sure what they were but they were incredibly close, always had each other’s backs. God, forbid you threatened one of them the other was always close by. They were the only one who could best Izzy at swordplay,” he grins “Part from Stede.”

Ivan sighs “Before we lost Y/N, Izzy was actually pretty tolerable. He’s always had a temper and a tendency to threaten people, but Y/N could always calm them. Couldn’t help but like Y/N, don’t get me wrong they were a ruthless pirate, loyal to Ed and Izzy. Forgot to mention Y/N was Ed’s younger sibling, least we think so. Fiercely protective of each other.”

The whole crew remains silent taking the information in. Ed leans on the railing next to Izzy crossing his arms out over the water “I miss ‘em too Iz.”

“Fuck off Edward.”

“I just thought… Actually, don’t know what I thought.”

Izzy sighs shoulders sagging “Why couldn’t we go back?” Ed frowns staring out over the sea “I had to think of the crew. If we had gone back, you know none of us would of come away.” Ed clasps Izzy’s shoulder “Y/N probably would have some stupid motivational crap to say to ya but fraid all I got is they’re gone mate, not anything we can do about it. Just have to move on.” Ed walks away Stede falling into step beside him “You never mentioned you had a brother/sister?”

Ed shrugs slightly walking back into their cabin “Not something I like to talk about. They’re dead not anything can do about it.”

“Still, you must miss them. Where you close?” Ed sighs falling onto the sofa “Suppose we we’re close yea. Them and Izzy where the only two I ever trusted.” Stede sits on the edge of the sofa by Ed’s feet frowning “I’m sorry.” Ed shrugs “‘is alright. Sometimes feel guilty for it though. You know? I was captain, I ordered the raid and the burning of the ship.”

“It’s not your fault Ed,” Stede tries to sound reassuring patting his leg “I’m sure there was nothing you could have done.” Ed flips himself around, so his head is in Stedes lap letting him play with his hair “It’s not your fault.”

Izzy is still standing over the railing the ring usually safe around his neck scarf clasped between thumb and finger.

“Izzy.” Y/N hisses from the shadows pulling the first mate away from the crowds “What the fuck are you doing?” Y/N rolls their eyes “Playing crochet. What do you fucking think I’m doing. Captain Vance just turned up.”

“Shit.” Y/N snorts in response “My thoughts exactly. Come on.” The two make their way towards the docks using the back alleys both freezing when a deep gravelly voice echoes down the confined space making it seem louder “Well, well, well what do we have here? Israel Hands and Y/N Teach.” The two-freeze swearing colourfully before turning Izzy raising his sword and Y/N gripping a pistol tightly “What do you want Vance?”

Vance a large bulky man with scars decorating most of his skin the remainder coated in ink. “That’s Captain Vance to you dog.” Y/N scowls their grip on the pistol tightening as the flick the hammer ready to fire “What do you want Captain Vance?”

“I want to kill you two worthless lumps. You torched my ship.” Izzy smiles slightly “Only a little.” Vance seethes “A little. A little? You destroyed it.” Vance takes out two pistols readying them to fire “I would like to draw this out, make it painful and slow. Then watch as Black Beard finds your mutilated bodies. But unfortunately, I do not have that luxury. Still, you will at least be dead.” Y/N shoots first three shots echoing around the alley. Vance falls to the ground blood blossoming from his shoulder while his shots hit the wall sending bits of rock flying.

“Time to go.” Y/N grabs Izzy’s arm the two of them running full pelt from the alley as Vance swearing and spluttering lumbers back to his feet to give chase. Flying out into the busy street where a market is being held the two dodge between stalls skidding down another alley as Vance’s crew appear with their captain in the lead a bloodied cloth to his shoulder “FIND THEM.”

“We’ve got to get back to the ship!” Y/N turns to Izzy pausing when they both realise how close they have gotten in the small space. Izzy’s cheek heat while Y/N smirks “Am I making you uncomfortable Iz?” he shakes his head slightly making the latter chuckle pressing a soft kiss to his cheek before shooting him a wink “I’ll cause a distraction. You get Ed.”

Before Izzy can protest Y/N has leapt onto the closest stool selling jewellery grabbed a fistful of brightly coloured gems and started yelling at the top of their lungs “Captain Vance, I believe these colours would draw the attention away from that ass of a face you have. Although anyone would have to be blind before they even considered you attractive. Least you can fight… oh wait no you can’t. You’re just crap at everything aren’t you.”

Jumping from stall to stall and causing utter chaos in the midst Y/N runs deeper into town while Izzy runs back to the ship to get backup. The two of them may be the best swords on the Queen Anne but they’re also smart enough to know Captain Vance and his crew are not to be messed with. As Izzy reaches the ship as a large explosion shakes the docks a cloud of dust rising from deep inside the town. “What the fuck was that.” Ed appears on the gangplank while Izzy sighs shaking his head slightly “Who do you think?” they both say the same thing in unison “Y/N.”

As if they have been summoned Y/N comes skidding over the rooftop’s tiles falling to the floor before they topple to the ground in a heap when they jump on a barrel that is not secure “What the fuck did you do?” Izzy helps them to their feet “Caused a distraction. Captain Vance will no longer be a problem.” Ed snorts supporting Y/N’s other side as they walk onto the ship “Our worst enemy gone for good. Excellent work. Iz help ‘em get cleaned up gotta make sure we’re ready to go.”

Izzy helps Y/N limp to their cabin “Do I even want to know?” Y/N shrugs “Probably not. Got you something.” Out their pocket they take a simple diamond ring smiling proudly “It’s not real, and pretty sure it’s not even gold but for you.” Izzy takes it slipping it on the handkerchief around his neck “Where did you get it?”

Y/N starts removing their outer layers poking at a wound on their side while talking “Stole it. Its only temporary before I get you something better. Can’t have my man wearing second rate jewellery. But thought you needed something to show you were taken. Not that pirates care for such things. You don’t have to wear it; just thought I don’t know.” Izzy rolls his eyes clamping a hand over Y/Ns mouth to stop their rambling “I’ll wear it. Though we’ve already got tattoos can’t get much more permanent than that.” Y/N shrugs starting to clean their cut before Izzy takes over kneeling between their legs on the floor “Do you think we’ll be okay? With our profession and everything.”

The two stare into each other’s eyes a moment before Y/N closes the gap cupping Izzy’s face gently “We’re gonna be just fine.”

Izzy returns the ring to its rightful place. Y/N did in fact gift him much more most of it stolen but some of it actually bought, including the sword hanging at his side. He glances at the pale band of skin on his ring finger still visible despite two years, the ring that use to sit their long gone. Where he had no idea, but it felt like a stab to the chest every time he saw it was gone. Returning his gaze out over the sea he ignores the whispering crew behind him wishing he could go back and change the past and return Y/N Teach to his side.

Your P/O/V:

Shit. I duck into the nearest alley tugging my hood further forward as a group of navy officer’s marches past in perfect form. Breathing a sigh of relief when they pass, I push back my hood leaning against the wall. Finally free of that cramped cell and tattered clothing. Two years, eight months and three weeks spent in an British prison, it’s a relief to be free. Though wanted posters have started appearing around the docks with a reasonable reward.

Keeping to the shadows I head closer to the docks inspecting the ships currently docked. Taverns are the best place for gossip, and I have heard varying tales of my brother, which ones I believe I am not sure. Most people give me wary looks the heavy hood, leather and two swords crossed across my back and pistol holstered on my thigh don’t exactly scream friendly.

Finding a dingy tavern any member of the navy would avoid like the plague I step inside tossing a few coins on the counter “Rum.” The bartender an elderly man with multiple missing teeth and stringy hair pushes a glass across the counter “And information I imagine?” I smile into my drink “What do you know of Blackbeard?”

“Blackbeard? Queen Anne is under new captainage they was here last week. Not sure where Blackbeard ended up. Word is he’s gone soft sailing with some gentlemen pirate, though few believe those rumours.” I nod finishing my drink he refills it without my asking before moving along the bar to serve someone else. I sip this one leaning back against the bar, gentlemen pirate never heard of him before.

Finishing my second drink I stalk out the bar all I need is a ship. A small vessel catches my eye definitely pirate from the crew loading up supplies I watch from the shadows as they stumble about on deck. Not the most experienced of crew but they will have to all I need is the captain. Someone clears their throat behind me, and I turn “Shit.” The officer grins “Y/N Teach you are under arrest.” I sigh putting my hands in the air “Fine you caught me.” turning away for a second, I form a fist before spinning back catching the officer across the jaw sending him sprawling to the ground.

Taking of I run towards the tree line more shouts echoing behind, so much for a low profile. Several shots ring out as I start zig-zagging closer to the trees jumping over a stack of barrels and a wall before finally reaching the trees. “You are ordered to stop.” I grin speeding up as I enter the trees following a worn path deeper in land before taking a sharp turn back to the coast. Swinging myself up into the low branches I jump from tree to tree watching the navy officers below following my footprints “Where did they go?”

“They can’t be far.”

“Do we kill them?”

I jump to the next tree slowly making my way back to town. Jumping back to the ground I turn quickly when two men yelp. Drawing my sword, I turn lowering it when it is not soldiers. “You never saw me.” they both nod and I take off again reaching a small beach already inhabited. A group of pirates lounging around on the sand. “Captain?” I take a step back ready to run again when two men turn to answer the question: one an elaborately dressed blond who looks more gentleman than pirate the other. “Edward!?”

I would recognise that beard anywhere. I push back my hood taking several steps forward, his eyes widen in recognition “You’re not dead.” I snort “Not last I checked.” He runs over poking my chest then my cheek “You’re really not dead.” I roll my eyes punching him in the stomach making him grunt “Point taken.” I grin “That’s for leaving me behind.” He laughs the two of us colliding in a hug “Can’t believe you’re not dead.” I laugh “Sorry to disappoint.”

He shakes his head “What? No. Not what I meant. Shit. Izzy. Where’s Izzy? Stede where’s Izzy?” Stede the fancy blonde looks confused “Back on the ship. Why?” Ed grins grabbing my arm “Come on.” I dig my heels into the sand “Navy kinda after my head. Town is not a good idea.” Ed frowns only pausing a moment before resuming dragging me across the beach “Nope. Come on.” I manage to tug up my hood as we practically sprint to the ship I spotted earlier and up onto the deck.

“Izzy! Get your butt out here. Iz. Iz. Izzy.” Fang, Ivan, and Izzy all come running onto deck swords drawn “Edward what the hell is going… on?” I push back my hood Izzy’s sword falling to the ground “Look who’s not dead.”

“Y/N?” I smile slightly the rest of the crew disappearing my sole focus on Izzy. “I missed you Iz.” He steps forward still looking a little shell shocked “We thought you were dead.” I shrug slightly “Had a couple close calls but still here.” I smile my stomach tying in knots as I step closer “I can leave if…” I don’t get the chance to finish his body colliding with mine “Don’t. Don’t even.” I chuckle wrapping my arms around him “You really think I would leave Iz? Spent the last two years trying to get back to you.”

His grip tightens but I gently ease his face away from my neck cupping his face in one hand smiling softly “Missed you Iz.” He returns my smile the corners of his eyes crinkling slightly “You’re really here.” I nod leaning my forehead against his “I’m here.” I grin tracing the ring around his neck “Can’t believe you still have this. Which reminds me, this belongs to you.” I tug on the cord around my neck two identical silver bands with waves pressed into the metal. I take one of putting it back where it belongs on Izzy’s ring finger “I thought I lost it.” I shake my head “You left it on the side in our cabin when you helped with my stitches. I was going to return it after the raid and well you know the rest.”

My brother clears his throat the two of us pulling apart “Wait hang on. Izzy is capable of smiling?” I bite my lip leaning down to kiss Izzy’s cheek neither of us had ever been big on PDA, but I want to remind myself he’s real. Izzy scowls at the pirate who spoke making him laugh Ed steps forward before anything else can be said “Everybody. This is my little brother/sister Y/N.” Stede smiles brightly “Stede Bonnet its lovely to meet you.” I shake his hand tentatively shocked when Ed throws an arm around his shoulders smiling lovingly at the strange man “Reunion can wait we really need to get out here.”

We all turn our attention back to the docks where a large number of navy officers have gathered combing the docks from top to bottom. Stede nods “Right. Come along everyone, get the rest of those stores below pronto.” The ship is a flurry of activity as the gang plank is raised and the sails unfurled. I remain tense till we are well out into the open sea, Izzy joins me at the prow, and I move so I can wrap my arms around his waist head resting on his shoulder “So how long has Ed been like this?”

Izzy chuckles leaning forward against the railing my arms atop his “Fair while.” I close my eyes breathing in the sea air enjoying the light breeze that ruffles Izzy’s hair “I’m sorry.” I open my eyes confused. “I thought you were behind us. I should have checked, should have been there for you.” I move my arms so they are wrapped around his chest and waist “Iz there is nothing you could have done. I don’t blame you for what happened.”

“You should.” His voice sounds so small it breaks my heart “I don’t, and neither should you. none of us knew what would happen, pirating ain’t a career known for its safety. The only thing I couldn’t stand was the fact I never got to say goodbye or tell you how much I love you or how much you mean to me.” he turns so we are face to face tears staining his cheeks which I brush away gently “Because I do love you Israel hands. Time has not changed that.”

“I love you too.” His lips are hesitant at first as they brush against mine before I draw him closer with a hand cupping his cheek. “Swear we won’t leave each other’s side ever again.” I grin “Till death do us part right?” he nods lips twitching into a small smile “Till death do us part.” I kiss him again deeper this time running my fingers through his hair while his dig into the front of my shirt pulling the two of us closer together. “This better not be a dream.” I chuckle tracing the star then the swallow tattooed on his neck “I promise its real.”

We remain together ignoring the rest of the crew who stare and whisper while we return to our previous position watching the water lapping the front of the boat while catching up on two years of tales more so from him than me catching me up on the strange crew, he has found himself with. Finally, we exhaust most topics and Izzy sighs heavily “They will want to talk to you.” I smile “I won you over, reckon I can deal with this lot.” His smile grows slightly before returning to his neutral expression “Let’s get this over with then.” We turn making our way to the centre deck the crew trying and failing to hide their curiosity. Ed saunters over grinning “You both look insanely happy. Hey, you got your ring back.” Izzy nods slightly tracing the silver band while Ed throws an arm around my shoulders “Everyone this is Y/N. Y/N this is my new crew, well our crew.” He grins at Stede “Lucius, Pete, John, Jim, Frenchie, Olowande, Roach, Swede, and Frenchie. You already know Ivan and Fang.” I nod slightly in greeting.

Olo waves while Swede looks confused “I thought they were dead.” I smile slightly “Nope.” Ivan grins “Good to have ya back.” Ed chuckles while Stede clumsily walks over stuttering over his words “Well then, how about you tell us a bit about yourself. We talk things through as a crew on this vessel. And I know I would like to know a bit more about you.” I frown “What’s there to know? I’m good with a sword, spent the last two years in a British jail cell, anyone hurts Izzy or my brother, and they get a knife in the gut.” Stede nods looking slightly alarmed “Right well I was thinking more along the lines of your favourite colour? Or perhaps hobbies?”

Izzy makes a sort of choked cough noise while I bite back a laugh “Your new to this aren't you?.” Stede beams “Yes, realatively. Now Roach is our resident cook and doctor, Izzy is first mate, Buttons is normally at the helm and Lucius is my scribe. I’m sure you will find your place soon enough; do you have any particular skills you feel may benefit the group?” Ed laughs “You kidding? They’re strong, fast, agile. Excellent with a sword and daggers, spent half their time up in the bloody rigging. Though two years out of action may have effected that.”

I grin reaching for one of my swords “Want to test that theory, Edward?” he draws his own sword spinning it artistically “Alright N/N.” Izzy sighs grumbling “You won’t beat them Ed.” I block every blow I may have been locked up for two years but that didn’t stop me from training in any way I could keeping up arm strength and agility. My muscles strain slightly but I grin putting more weight into my blows before knocking my brother to the ground sword pointed to his chest “Fuck. Really thought I could win that.” Grinning I haul him back to his feet “Don’t feel too bad about its Eddy.”

He groans rolling his eyes “Not that fucking name again.” I laugh clapping him on the back “Only if you piss me off, I promise.” The rest of the crew are grinning broadly while Ed claps me on the shoulder “So two years in prison ay?” I shrug eyes darkening “Don’t want to talk about it.”

“When did you get out?” I sigh running my thumb over my blade before sheathing it “Three days ago. I got to the coast this morning. Then you know the rest.” His face softens slightly “I’m sorry N/N.” I shrug brushing him off “It’s in the past, nothing you could have done. Just drop it.” he nods returning to his usual self “Well you catch up on some rest. Iz?” he nods motioning with his head, I follow into a small cabin immaculately tidy. A bunk along one wall just big enough for two, a writing desk, two storage chests and a small window “I kept all your stuff. Never could bring myself to getting rid of it.”

I turn pulling him into a tight hug the both of us dropping our shields “Thought of you every day.” He chuckles kissing me gently “I didn’t handle you leaving well.” I smile tugging of my jacket and laying it over the chair also removing my swords and boots “Let me guess you returned to your grouchy side.” He rolls his eyes “I’m always grouchy.” Laughing I sit on the bed pulling him down on top “Yea, but you have a grouchy side and then your super grouchy side. I know you Iz and I would have acted the same way.”

He sighs the two of us laying comfortably on the bed. He starts tracing the tattoos on my arms stopping at the largest on my bicep. An anchor with rope wrapped around it and a compass behind. “I remember when you got that.” I grin “Ed was acting all high and mighty that he got a tattoo so I had to get one that was bigger.” Izzy chuckles continuing up to my shoulder before moving to my other arm focusing on the inside of my wrist an anchor with roses wrapped around it “I regretted not getting mine more visible.”

I grin tracing the back of his shoulder blade where his own tattoo is etched. “We could get another one?” he laughs “Hmm maybe.” I shift slightly my shirt riding up “What’s that?” I freeze tugging my shirt back down “It’s nothing.” Sitting up he pushes my shirt back eyes turning cold as he examines the lines wrapping around my sides scars left from all the times the navy tried to get information out of me “Turn over.”

“Iz, I don’t think.” “Turn over.” slowly I turn almost glad I can’t see his expression as his fingers ghost over the skin. “I’m going to fucking kill them.” I turn back grabbing his hands “I’m okay Iz. I was worth more alive than dead, but they gave up trying to get information after eight months. ” I try and smile failing when Izzy looks so broken “Is your entire back…” I shrug “I have no idea. Probably. Could only see a small portion in the mirror.” Sighing I turn and pull of my shirt Izzy he traces up along the back “Fucking hell Y/N.”

“How’s my tattoo?” his hands freeze a chocked laugh coming from him “Sorry, just trying to make light of this.” His arms wrap tightly around my waist “I should have been there to protect you.” I relax into his warmth turning around so we are face to face. “Okay here’s what’s going to happen. We are going to move on from this, you are going to stop beating yourself up. I don’t blame you for anything. Look at me Iz,” he meets my eyes and I smile “Now pull yourself together. Neither of us are good with this sappy crap we can leave that to Ed and whatever him and the weird blonde have going on.”

A grin slowly spreads across his face “I don’t know what I did to deserve you Y/N Teach.” I grin rolling my eyes playfully “I love you Izzy Hands.” His mouth collides with mine the two of us falling back into the bed “We ever bump into the navy I’m slaughtering them all.” I grin kissing him again “If it makes you feel better, I already killed the two who did it.” He snorts kissing my cheek “Helps a little.” He flops onto my chest while I run my fingers through his hair.

3rd person P/O/V:

Ed walks out onto deck frowning “Anyone seen Iz?” the rest of the crew look around confused. Where is the angry man of a first mate? “Pete, Ivan? No one has seen him?”

“Nope.” “No.”

“Frenchie go check his cabin.” Frenchie nods and disappears below deck knocking gently on the door before peeking inside. Y/N and Izzy are sprawled on the bed in a tangle of limbs both sleeping soundly. Hastily Frenchie shuts the door and makes his way back to the deck “Both asleep captain.” Ed laughs “Sleeping? Really?” Stede smiles warmly “Well they have both been through rather a lot. Let’s leave them rest for a bit.”