#izzy is a swallow like his tattoo (which also fits him a lot)

[our-death-means-flag]

Above the Clouds and the Atmosphere

Ship: Izzy Hands x Reader

Notes: Wing AU, Izzy hasn’t been able to fly in decades. It doesn’t bother him. (It does.) Reader is the first person he’s met with wings strong enough to carry someone and fly. Not that it matters, Izzy doesn’t need to fly again. (He does.)

So, @run-me-through-but-not-like-that (hope the tag isn’t annoying!) wrote a wing fic with Izzy a while ago and it has not left my brain since. I thought that Izzy deserved to fly again and I love wing fics. So, here’s this.

Warnings: mentioned wing injuries, angst, Izzy being difficult

Title Song: Rocketeer by Far East Movement (but I’m specifically thinking of this cover by Clara C.)

It was impossible not to notice.

A crew member with wings was fairly run of the mill. If anything, they were sought after since the benefits of having a pirate who could fly were too many to count. Most crews only had two or three if they were lucky. The Revenge somehow had six five, Ed, Fang, Bonnet, Buttons, and you.

You still somehow stood out.

Your wings were absolutely massive. You had a larger wingspan than Ed which was a feat on its own. And you were without question the strongest flier on the crew.  (Yes, the crew of this clown ship had hosted a competition for that for some bloody reason, during which Izzy did his damndest to hide below deck) Though, and he’d never admit it, he did enjoy watching you. Watching you fly so smoothly when you scouted the waters ahead, watching you swoop down to attack an enemy sending them falling off the boat while you effortlessly shot back up into the air, watching you laugh and joke with the crew, wings moving almost as much as your hands as you spoke, emphasizing your words. You always flew so gracefully. Each twitch of your feathers was intentional and the gusts of wind that each flap of your wings created felt like a storm.

Every once in a while he’d purposely stand near you and when the wind from your wings hit his face it felt like he was flying again, just for an instant, but of course, that instant would pass and then he’d be slammed back into reality, grounded, permanently.

It was beautiful.

It was horrible.

Watching you was incredible but it made his wings ache. 

He was stuck. Part of him wanted to cling to you and to the memories of flying. But he didn’t. Instead he avoided you and your beautiful wings and the memories you brought, snapping whenever you dared try and get close, being significantly more hostile towards you than the rest of the crew.

Despite that, you kept trying. You were soft. Just like the rest of the crew. You were capable too, on par with what he’d expect from Blackbeard’s crew. But you were soft. You were kind and gentle and helpful. You always greeted him with a warm “Hello Izzy!” or a “Good morning, Izzy!” or a “Do you need anything, Izzy?”

It made it hard to hate you.

He wondered if it was harder to hate you or to deal with the reminders you brought of what he couldn’t do anymore.

Regardless, he avoided you. 

But avoiding you forever wasn’t practical…

A high pitched yell pulled him away from his work as he dragged a hand across his face.

“No peace and fockin’ quiet on this fockin’ ship.” He grumbled.

Usually a yell like that would have him worried that they were under attack but much to his surprise, he wasn’t really worried. He realized with no small amount of shock that it was because you’d been the one scouting today and you certainly wouldn’t be so incompetent. 

He quickly stopped thinking about how that must mean he trusts you.

Izzy stepped onto the deck and immediately noticed the source of the commotion. Practically the entire crew was crowded on the deck all clearly watching something. That something turned out to be you.

You were flying, easily keeping yourself hovering in place with strategic flaps of your wings. Clutching desperately onto you, was Lucius. The scribe looks like he was moments away from screaming again even as Izzy saw you gently comforting him and (if he was reading your lips right) telling him that it wasn’t that high up, that even if you dropped him, which you emphasized that you definitely wouldn’t do, he’d be fine.

Izzy shook his head trying to stop staring at you. He did the only thing he could think of and barked out “What the fuck are you useless lot doing?” 

A few people turned to glare at him and you looked remarkably guilty. In an annoyingly graceful movement, you landed deftly on the deck and gently released Lucius (honestly having to peel him off more than anything). 

You rubbed the back of your head awkwardly. “Sorry Izzy! Some of the crew wanted to go for a fly and I was done scouting— didn’t see anything interesting— and I’m the strongest flier… So, I figured.” You rambled and Izzy made a point of not looking at how the edges of your wings twitched as you moved your hands. “I… uh…” You seemed to lose confidence as you spoke. “Yeah…”

Some members of the crew notably stepped in between him and you as if to defend you. Not that it stopped him from opening his mouth, ready to unleash a volley of insults but the hand on his shoulder did.

“Aw, come on now. Lay off them Iz…” Edward’s voice was soft as he wrapped both his arm and wing around his shoulder, almost hiding the two of them from view.

The crew went back to talking to you, assuming that Ed would handle Izzy.

Ed took his chance and ducked slightly and whispered into Izzy’s ear, almost conspiratorially, “You know, if you asked, I’m sure they’d take you for a fly… They’re probably the only person we’ve met who could.” 

Izzy tensed. Of course you could. And Ed was right. You were very likely the only person who could. He’d never met anyone with wings as strong as yours. You definitely could carry him and fly.

Edward couldn’t. His wings were made for speed, not strength. Even though he’d been nearly dead, he remembered the first raid after his wings had gotten injured. Ed had scooped him into his arms and flown them back to their ship. He’d barely made it, actually hitting the railing and sending both of them skidding across the deck. Ed had sprained his own wings horribly after that, so Izzy never let him carry him again. He wouldn’t let his captain ground himself for his sake.

Izzy glanced at you again as you gently pulled Lucius into your arms again, comforting him before gently taking off.

The idea took over his mind. He could fly again. He’d never thought it would be possible.

No. It didn’t matter. He was fine.

He’d been fine without his flight for years. The hours he’d spent staring at the sky didn’t matter. The nights he’d spend curled up in his bunk, trying desperately to fall back asleep and dream of flying for just one more second didn’t matter.

He was fine.

Izzy rolled his shoulder pushing Ed’s hand off him. “I don’t need them.” He spat and stormed off.

He made a point of not looking at Edward’s guilty look. He knew that Ed had always blamed himself for the state of Izzy’s wings. Izzy had gotten the injuries protecting him after all. Even if Izzy knew about his captain's guilt, he couldn’t understand it. Protecting his captain came before everything else. Even his wings.

And he was fine.

—

Izzy did a double take the moment he stepped onto the deck for his late night rounds. The deck was empty, the night chilly enough to send everyone down to the bunks rather than sleeping on deck. But that wasn’t what caught his eye. Everything was done? The rigging was secure. The deck was organized and clean and he had no idea what was going on.

Until he spotted a familiar wing. 

Of course. It just had to be you. 

You were crouched near the front of the ship, wings fluttering in concentration as you meticulously checked the remainder of the rigging. So the state of the deck was probably because of you. But why? You’d usually be in bed or eating with the crew by now and you certainly didn’t have a late night shift today. So why were you here working?

Not sure how to get your attention without having to get close enough to risk touching your wings or yelling, he cleared his throat. You jumped lightly and he saw your hand shoot for the blade at your side until you looked over your shoulder and caught sight of him. Then you smiled.

“Evenin’ Izzy!” You greeted as politely as usual.

“Right,” was his curt response. “What are you doing here so damn late?”

You stood, somewhat sheepishly. “Oh, well… I figured I ought to help out a little…” He only got more confused and you seemed to notice since you continued, “well, I was the one who distracted everyone earlier and I wanted to make it up to you… so… I handled some things.” 

He furrowed his brows. “Make it up to me?”

“Yeah. I mean, I didn’t want you getting stuck with extra work cause I distracted everyone.”  You said it so matter-of-factly too, as if it was normal for you to do something like that for him.

On any other ship, if you’d do something like that, it would be out of fear, hoping to avoid punishment for slacking off. But no one on this ship was actually afraid of him since they all knew that the captains wouldn’t let him do anything. Maybe you were doing another strange thing again. Like how you greeted him and helped out.

Ridiculous.

“Fine.” He glanced at the rigging. “Not bad.” You beamed like he’d given you a huge compliment. “Go.” He dismissed you coldly, trying not to think about how much he liked seeing you smiling.

You walked past him, still smiling. Then you stopped. He was moments away from telling you to fuck off when you spoke again, “You know… my offer stands for you too.” He looked back at you.

“What offer?” He snapped.

“Flying. You weren’t on deck when I mentioned it to the rest of the crew but if you ever want me to take you for a fly, I’d be happy to. Just say the word.” He froze. “If you don’t want to do anything around the crew, let me know and I can find a time where we can fly without them around.”

Izzy stared at you. 

Did he want that?

Did he want to fly again?

He tried to picture it, the wind in his face, the ocean beneath him, your arms holding him and your beautiful wings keeping both of you in the air.

He hates the fact that he doesn’t hate the ideas.

You seem to take his silence and glare wrong as you rush to correct yourself. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to assume… I know you don’t like me and I know my wings make you uncomfortable and-

“What?” Izzy manages to force the word out, cutting off your words. 

You smiled sadly. “I'm not that oblivious. I know you keep avoiding me and whenever I fly you always seem really uncomfortable. I’m sorry. I want to be friends but if you want me to fuck off, just say the word and I’ll try to stay out of your way.”  

“Friends?” He echoed as if that was the most surprising thing you’d said. Not only had you caught on to his behavior but you were actively trying to make it up to him for them. 

You chuckled but it was clearly more at yourself than anything he said. ”Yeah… stupid. I know… I’m so sorry.”

“No.” He wasn’t sure why but he had to say it, had to get that stupid sad expression off your face. You seemed surprised. “I don't hate you.”

You froze, glancing back at him. “What?”

He groaned, realizing that he’d backed himself into a conversational corner. “I don’t hate you or your wings. Honestly you’re the most tolerable out of this whole damn crew. You actually know what you’re doing.”

You turned fully to face him, confusion and hope clear on your face. “You don’t? Then why do you avoid me?”

“Because I hate being reminded of what I can’t do!” He snapped. Then almost immediately froze as he realized what he’d said a moment after saying it. Your eyes widened. His eyes widened. “Fuck.”

His wings flexed uselessly under the many layers of wraps keeping them pressed to his back.

“You have…”

“Yes.” No point beating around the bush. “Can’t fly anymore.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.” Your tone of voice stunned him. You weren’t mocking him. He still remembered the way the rest of Hornigold’s crew had reacted to his sudden grounding. And get here you were genuinely telling him you were sorry without an ounce of sarcasm or mockery. You, with the most beautiful set of wings he’d ever seen.

“I don’t want your damn pity.” He snapped.

You didn’t react. “It’s not pity. I mean it. I’m genuinely sorry that happened to you.”

He didn’t know how to react to the fact he believed you.

“Thank you for telling me Izzy. If you ever need anyone to help with your wings, just ask.” Your words were so gentle, so genuine. “Goodnight Izzy.” You turned.

“Wait.” The word came out like a command, even as his voice shook. He knew if he didn’t say it now he’d probably never get the courage again. You turned, confused. But Izzy spoke before you did. “I want to fly.”

“What?”

“I’m not fucking saying it again.”

You (damn you) didn’t push or try to mess with him. Instead you just smiled. “Of course. If you’d like, we could go now?” You offered gently.

Izzy hesitated. He technically didn’t have any nightly duties left since you’d done everything aside from being on watch which he could easily do while flying. He swallowed. “Sure.”

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face and the way your wings fluttered in excitement. You opened your arms and smiled at him. “I’m going to have to pick you up.” 

Izzy couldn’t help but be a little grateful for you simply allowing him to come to you rather than grab him. With far more hesitation than he cared to admit, Izzy moved closer, tentatively stepping into arms reach of you.. You gestured with your arms and raised a brow, silently asking if you could pick him up. Izzy managed to mumble a “Yeah, go for it.” and he was lucky the two of you were so close since he was barely louder than a whisper.

You moved carefully, gently picking him up. One of your arms under his legs and the other resting gently against his back. He wrapped an arm around your shoulders to keep himself steady and was trying (and failing) incredibly hard to not think about how you were holding him

“You good?” You asked, speaking incredibly softly. With Izzy in your arms like he was, he could feel your breath on his ear. Izzy doubted he could actually get his lips to form words but he managed a quick nod. “Alright, I’m going to stay over the deck, not too high. Then if that’s fine with you I can fly around.”

Why did you have to be so frustratingly considerate? 

Izzy nodded against your shoulder.

You smiled, even without looking at you, he could hear it in your voice. “Got it. I’m taking off on the count of 3. 1…”

Izzy took a deep breath.

“2…”

He adjusted his grip on your shoulders.

“3!”

More on instinct than any conscious thought, Izzy buried his face in your shoulder. He heard the flap of your wings, the air rushing past, and then, calm. He pulled away from your shoulder slowly and opened his eyes. The two of you were hovering over the deck, about eye level with the mizzentop, your wings carefully flapping to keep you both as still as possible. It took a moment for everything to click in his mind. 

He was flying.

“Izzy?” Your voice gently pulled him from his thoughts. “Are you alright?”

He really wanted to give some cool response maybe a smooth “never better” but instead the only sound that managed to escape him was a “mhhnngh” which not only wasn’t smooth at all but also didn’t answer your question so instead he managed to nod.

“Do you want to fly around more?” He could practically hear the smile in your voice. 

Since Izzy’s vocal chords were still not cooperating, he nodded, almost frantically.

“Alright… Let’s go…” With another powerful flap of your wings you shot off away from the Revenge. Izzy felt the wind rushing by his face, tousling his hair. He watched the ocean flicker past just below him.  You dove down, and Izzy suddenly felt the sea mist against his skin. 

When his wings had healed enough for him to attempt flying, he'd honestly already known at that point that it would be useless. He’d tried regardless. Of course, he couldn’t. He pretended it didn’t bother him. But honestly, the idea that he’d never be able to fly again burned up his mind in a way he’d never been able to shake.

But he was actually flying.

It felt like a dream.

Izzy’s eyes must have been watering from the wind and the salt. 

He definitely wasn’t crying.

He was fine.

Without even thinking about it, Izzy reached a hand out towards the sea, desperate to reach out and touch it, as if that would fully confirm for him that he wasn’t dreaming. Seemingly realizing what he wanted, you swooped lower, allowing the tips of Izzy’s fingers to skip across the surface of the waves. You soared up into the air, Izzy watching the waves created from air from your wings.  Then you dove back down. You flew laps around the Revenge, staying just close enough to be safe. Of course, you (irritatingly considerate) kept checking in with him. “Is this okay?” “You alright?” “Everything fine?” To which Izzy could only respond with nods.

By the time you were landing back on deck,  Izzy honestly had no clue how long the two of you had been flying. He’d somehow just let himself get lost in the feeling of flying. A quick glance at the sky made him suddenly realize that his watch was almost up. The two of you had flown around almost all night. Izzy was honestly a lot more reluctant to leave your arms than he’d expected to be, but the fear of someone coming on deck and seeing you both made him finally remove himself from your arms.

He expected to feel just as awful as he had when he’d first realized he was stuck on the ground the moment his feet touched the ground but that didn’t happen. He felt lighter, more comfortable, like some tension he didn’t even realize he’d been carrying was gone. He scrubbed his face with his sleeve, trying to make it look more like he was rubbing sleep away from his eyes with limited success.

“Izzy?” Your voice once again, cut through the silence. He spun, turning to see you leaning against the railing, wings relaxed and breathing a bit heavier than normal, shoulders visibly moving. It seemed that even for someone as strong as you, flying around for hours carrying someone was a lot of work. 

“You look exhausted. You should have stopped sooner.” He winced at his own words, hating how even that came out as a complaint.

You chuckled lightly, seemingly not taking his words as insulting in any way. “Yeah, probably.” You agreed as you gently stretched your wings out. Izzy was once again struck by how big and powerful your wings were. “But you seemed to be having a good time so… I only really doubled back when I realized the watch shift was going to change, figured you wouldn’t want any of the crew seeing you.”

Again with you being so frustratingly considerate of him. Izzy sighed. You still made little sense to him with all that kindness but that was an issue for another day. “You ought to go to sleep. I’ll handle your morning tasks so you can sleep in.”

You immediately waved your hands. “Oh you don’t have to do that!”

“I know I don’t.” Izzy replied matter-of-factly. “Just as you didn’t need to stay up late to help me nor take me flying.”

“You don’t owe me for any of that, Izzy. I did that because I wanted to.” 

He actually fumbled with his words for a moment. If it were anyone else, he would have immediately called bullshit, but you looked so incredibly genuine. Either you were the best liar he’d ever met, or you were being sincere. “In that case, go to bed. I’ll cover for you because I want to.” He tried to make his voice as authoritative as possible but it was incredibly hard to do that when you were looking at him so softly. “You’re not convincing me otherwise.”

You smiled. “If you insist. Goodnight Izzy. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Goodnight.” Izzy replied with a nod. You walked past him to the bunks, and Izzy gathered up his courage. “Thank you.” He managed to force out without turning to face you,  just as you were about to leave. 

“Of course, anytime!”

Left alone on deck for a few minutes until shift change, Izzy watched the sky.