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letsdeerintheheadlightsuniverse · 9 months ago

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**Masterlist**

>>Next Chapter>>

Pairing: Izzy Hands x gn!reader

Synopsis: With the storm well under way, Izzy resigns himself to a tumultuous night of self-loathing. Little does he know that something- or someone- will interrupt his not-so-peaceful evening...

A/N: Ooooooooh, boy! Hello, all! Did you miss me? This chapter. Wahoo! This chapter took a hot minute to write. Fun fact, it has the largest word count to date within this series. Isn't that crazy? Anyhoo, enjoy and I'll see you in chapter 4!

Content Warning: Angst, ANGST, aaaaaaaaangst! Self-deprecating feelings and blood. This series is 18+, so minors dni. Go away (politely).

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His world was violently swaying or more precisely, the Revenge was being pushed this way and that by the violent waves of the expected storm. But the weather beyond the porthole did not concern the silver-haired pirate. He had lived his life on the seven seas long enough to know when he was in a life or death situation and what lay beyond the glass, was not even worth his concern.

No, no, the only tempest that plagued the great Israel Hands, was the tempest that brewed within his mind. His earlier interaction with you played on repeat, tormenting and mocking him for how incredibly unforgiving he had acted towards you. The only crime you had commited had been caring about his wellbeing and being the bastard he was, Izzy had reacted poorly. Surely making you regret even acknowledging his feelings or perhaps ever acknowledging him. The words, 'I'm sorry' would definitely not suffice in repairing the damage between you he had caused.

In some ways, he wished that Edward had underestimated the severity of the storm. If the Revenge sunk, the First Mate would never have to face the consequences of his actions come daybreak.

A sudden loud clattering sound, followed by a string of muffled curses peeked the pirate's attention. At such an hour, he had assumed everyone, bar those on watch- had retired for the night, planning to try and sleep through the worst of the sea's displeasure. So, who the fuck exactly was roaming the halls?

On unsteady feet- well, foot- it took a major effort on Izzy's part, to make it to the door in one piece. Every extreme rocking of the cabin threatened to trip him up and the last thing he needed was to inelegantly become acquainted with the floor.

Upon opening the door, the sight before his every eyes was one that he did not wholly unwelcome but met with a certain degree of reluctance. He could never be disappointed to see you splendid self. However, after his antics in the morning, Izzy did wish he was not the one to discover your angered self.

Noticing something moge in your periphery, you quickly turned to face whoever had stumbled across your moment of distress but when you took in the unusually dishevelled and sleep deprived appeance of your First Mate, you could not resist the annoyance that bubbled up within your chest. "Oh, good. It's you."

Yeah, he deserved that kind of reaction and more, Izzy mused. "Nice to see you too, (y/n)." but then, as was custom with him, th silver-haired pirate frowned, confused as to why you were not tucked up in bed. "What the fuck are you doing still up? I thought you were playing roomies with your friends?"

"I was but then everyone got seasick." your grumbled, wishing your crewmates possessed a stronger constitution. The smell of vomit was sure to haunt you throughout the entirety of the night.

"Define 'everyone'."

"Be easier to list who isn't throwing up." the fallen cup rolled and tapped against your foot, as the ship violently rocked once more, reminding you of the unattended spillage. "Fuck, there's tea everywhere."

"Careful, you'll slip." Izzy was quick to hold out a stabilising arm for you to hold onto, as you ducked to retrieve the cup. Despite your earlier annoyance, you were grateful for his presence beside you. Taking a hold of the offered arm, you managed to grab the cup before it rolled further away, though there was not much you could do about the tea.

"Thanks."

During the day, it was not often that you strayed into this area of the Revenge. Your dyties generally lay within the confines of the storage hold, kitchen or rec room, should you wander away from the deck. If younwere not sharing a cabin with your friends, nor were you attending to one of your crew mates, that could only have meant... "The rec room is in the opposite direction. Who needs tea in this part of the ship?"

It was wishful thinking on his part, to assume that you had been bringing him tea as a sort of olive branch, after his earlier outburst. Perhaps you had known how horrible he was at making amends unprompted and were taking matters into your own hands. Izzy's misplaced hopes were dashed with your response. "The Captain."

The First Mate should have known better than to be an optimist. Had life not already proven to him time and time again that this was no fairytale, that he did not get a happy ending? Upon hearing that the tea was intended for one of the ship's commander, he could not resist a sneer. "Oh, of course Stede fucking Bonnet can't keep his stomach contents down when there's a storm, that fuc-"

"The tea was for Ed." you interrupted with ease, effectively cutting Izzy's rant short. You were in no mood to listen to his tirade about The Gentleman Pirate.

You could have laughed at Izzy's horrified expression. Stede Bonnet was many things but a terrible leader? You could never share the same sentiment as the First Mate. You liked the co-captain a lot and to see Izzy failing to believe that it was his captain, that had forced you out of bed in the middle of a storm, well, you were going to have to ask Lucius to recapture the moment with charcoal and paper. "What? Edward..."

"Yeah, your beloved Blackbeard is currently vomiting his guts up." you scoffed in a similar Izzy fashion. "I'm supposed to be delivering ginger tea to anyone who's even looking remotely green, while Roach tries to not set the kitchen on fire." as if on cue, you entire world kiltered to the right, slamming you body first into the silver-haired pirate."Fuck!" you cursed loudly.

Thankfully, Izzy was not quite as uncoordinated as you. Years of life at sea had improved his balance greatly. "You're okay. You're alright." he reassured you, as he held onto you tightly, making sure to keep you upright. "I've got you. Just...hold onto me." he did not know whether to thank or curse the God's. Obviously, you were in great distress. However, he could not deny that he was thankful for the excuse to hold you close. Hell, his pining was downright pitiful. Never had he been so grateful for just the opportunity to hold someone. If you could have read his mind, no doubt you would have pushed him away in an instant. Probably called him a fee choice phrases too, as you struck his face with you palm. Now there was a mental image...

Izzy's arms were wrapped around you. Izzy's arms were wrapped around you! Thank the heavens above! You could not help but lean into his hold. If only it were under different conditions, the snide voice in your head reminded you with a cruel laugh. Still, you had to enjoy the rare moments of closeness you both shared. They were so far and few inbetween. Call you pathetic, call you deranged- no, seriously, that was what the First Mate would call you if he knew just how in love you were with him.

Another tilt of the ship sent you both tumbling into the opposite wall. This time, Izzy had you caged between his arms, carefully not to accidentally crush you with his form. In the low light, it was impossible to see the mutual blushes that burned scarlet on your faces. "How the hell am I supposed to move around the ship when it feels like we're about to capsize at any moment?" you fretted, knowing that you Captain was waiting for his tea.

"We're not gonna capsize."

"Tell that to Poseiden when he drowns us."

With an uncharacteristic laugh, Izzy was quick to settle your racing mind. "We're not going to-"

He never had a chance to finish his sentence. A crash of thunder and a particularly vicious wave, had you both on the floor in an instant. The little light that allowed you to see went out in a second, plunging the hallway into complete darkness. In the confusion of the moment, Izzy lost his grip on you.

Which way was up and which way down? He panicked, fumbling around for your form. "(Y/N)? (Y/N)!" he called out to you, listening intently for any sort of a reply over the weathering cacophony.

"Iz?" where was he? you questioned, desperate to be reunited with the First Hand. You could feel a wall behind your back, so at least you were still in the hallway and had not tumbled too far. "Iz, where are you?" you gave an involuntary jolt when you felt a hand grasp onto your shoulder. "Izzy?!"

"It's me, sorry." he apologised, as a wave of relief snuffed out his main concern. He had found you. "Anything broken?" he could feel you trembling against his hand. No doubt if the lights were working, you would look equally as terrified. His heart squeezed at the mere mental image.

"Don't think so." you were running on pure adrenaline, any aches or pains would not fully present themselves until you were out of harms way.

This was ridiculous. You were going to get injured- gravely wounded- if you were forced to continue with your task and Izzy could not stand by and let that happen. You were more important to him than most on that damn ship. No, all the seven seas. "Abandon your post, crewmate and get in the fucking cabin. Right now. Edward is just going to have to fetch his own fucking tea!" Izzy commanded, keeping you cradled against his chest, as he helped you both to stand.

"I heard that!" the echoed voice of the once feared Blackbeard reverberated above the booming thunder.

While the voice sent a shiver of worry through you, there was only one- well, two men- who did not flinch in the presence of the myth, the legend. Luckily, you were clinging to one of those very men. "Good, you selfish bastard!" Izzy called back without hesitation, before he called out once more into the obsidian black, "Roach!"

"Yeah?" the voice of the cook replied, unsure who was summoning him. "God?"

"Fucking give it up man and get back to your bunk. That's an order! Everyone else, stay where you are! Understood?"

He did wait to hear any of the replies, there was only one person on his mind now, you. "Come on, I've had enough of this."

When Izzy had previously fantasised about taking the journey from the hallway to his bed with you in tiw, it had usually been under very, very different circumstances. For starters, you were wearing too many clothes. "Have a seat." he offered before something caught his eye. Before you could question his sudden look of concern, the First Mate was already gripping your chin and tilting your face towards his. "Shit." he gasped, eyes roaming over your face.

Your cheeks warmed under his gaze, as you did everything in your power to not let your eyelids flutter shut. It felt as if every fibre was screaming, kiss me kiss me kiss me. "W-What?"

"You're bleeding." he stated as a matter of fact, dropping his hand.

Well, that proverbial cold shower of a revelation was enough to cease your desirous thoughts and refocus your mind. "What, I am? Where?"

"Your lip." the First Mate admitted with a strained voice, the thought of kissing you running rampant through his mind. Why did you have to cut your lip of all things, as if you had chosen that area specifically just to torture him.

Your hand instantly rose to feel for the wound. "Oh." despite it's minimal size, your fingers drew away bloodied, as you felt a spike in pain. "Ouch!"

By pirating standards, your cut was nothing more than a scratch and yet, seeing you bleeding rattled Izzy's internal calm more than he was willing to admit. Life at sea was a dangerous one. Whether it was the elements, the blade of another's sword or even the lack of oranges- death was always nipping at your heels. The reality of your fragility was just too much for him to process at that time, Izzy needed to focus and at least prevent the cut from becoming infected. "I haven't got a med kit in here." he murmured, looking around his sparsely furnished room. It had become common place to have Roach patch up all and every injury that, Izzy had become lax with his own medical supplies. He had used the last lot of bandages to tend to his leg.

"It's fine, I'm sure it'll stop bleeding in a moment."

Thinking quickly on his foot, Izzy reached over for leather waistcoat, which he had hung up earlier on a nearby chair, before he had called it a night. Reaching inside on of the pockets, he produced a rectangular piece of brilliant white cloth. "Here, use this. It'll have to do for now."

You tried not to think about how your fingers brushed together, as you took the material from him. If only you had known that Izzy's mind was working double time, focusing on the same preoccupation. Unfolding the square, you noticed something unusual sown into one of the corners. "This is a monogrammed handkerchief." you chuckled.

His cheeks warmed to the sound. He was really in for it now, Izzy thought glumly, as he prepared himself for the onslaught of mocking that would ensue from you and undoubtedly, the crew when you eventually told them. If you told them. Had you ever divulged one of his secrets? Izzy could not recall a time you had indeed betrayed his trust. Perhaps he was overthinking things? "Congratulations, you have functioning eyes." he grumbled.

"Since when does the great Israel Hands own lacey doilies with his name on them?" your tone was interwoven with that familiar playfulness. Devoid of all and any malice. Just a sign that, for the time being, you were going to tease the ever-loving life out of the First Mate.

"Oh, fuck off. I was a gift from that twat we have to call a co-captain." it a moment of boldness, hecdared to gently nudge your side with his elbow. Not enough to jostle your too much, as you regarded the dove white fabric.

It was the finest handkerchief you had ever laid eyes upon. The thin accent of lace around the perimeter edge, screamed of intricate artistry. The fabric alone must have been worth a fair bit. Woukd probably buy a pint or five at Spanish Jackie's tavern. You were surprised that he had kept the pretty item, instead of trading it for an item he would actually prefer.

"You sure you want me to get my blood all over it?"

"I'd rather you just stop yapping and start trying to lessen the amount of blood on your face." there was no anger to be found in Izzy' words. He just wanted to see the wound temporarily treated. Thankfully, you complied with his request and soundlessly applied the handkerchief to your lip, wincing at it made contact with the inflamed area. Out of sight, out of mind, Izzy could relax somewhat and not have his gaze permanently fixated to your lips and his mind constantly begging the question, what would they feel like against his?

The quiet that ensued was comfortable, not awkward. Much like the many times you had spent the night shift together, simply stood side by side on the bow, playing witness to the inky midnight blue wonder, that was the sea and the sky. "Thanks, by the way. Not just for the handkerchief but for letting me stay in here." you eventually murmured, not wanting to disturb the quiet of the night.

"Well, it's better you're here." and he meant that wholeheartedly. Things were always better when you were around, but true to his nature, Izzy quickly added, "Can't have you knocking yourself out or some shit. I'll need every competent pirate on deck first thing in the morning. Someone's gotta make sure this boat stays afloat."

"Right, yeah. Of course." did he dare delude himself into thinking he heard a slight inflection of disappointment in your tone? After another pause, you pulled the handkerchief away to examine the amount of blood. Hell, even injured, you looked exquisite. "Do you think it'll scar?"

"No, I think your pretty little face will be just fine." he responded without thought.

As soon as that familiar grin lit up your face, Izzy knew he was in trouble. Why had he used that word to describe you. Colleagues did not call each other pretty. Well, Stede fucking Bonnet's crew did but they were hardly atypical pirates. And you knew Izzy better than most, maybe even better than Ed, you woukd know immediately it was not just a turn of a phrase. You woukd see through any facade he put up to downplay the situation. You would know his little secret and surely be disgusted by him. "You think I'm pretty?"

"I..." his cheeks and neck burned a furious beetroot red. Not like this, he cursed his careless tongue for it's betrayal. Please don't let them find out like this. "I, um..."

Little did the First Mate know that his fumbling response put a kibosh on any hope you had that the silver-haired pirate shared any of your feelings. It had been a fool's dream to believe that the great Israel Hands could ever fall for a mediocre sailor as yourself but still, you had put your faith in a hurtful delusion and you only had yourself to blame for the pain you now felt.

Immediately, Izzy noticed your face drop in disappointment. His stomach twisted and knotted itself with anxiety, as he misconstrued your crestfallen expression to be the result of embarrassment at his accidental admission of admiration of your beauty. "It's fine, Izzy. I was just teasing you. You don't actually need to answer me." you mumbled, half-heartedly trying to reassure the man that you were not dispirited by his lack of interest in you.

"No, I-" he needed to explain himself, needed to make amends but why, oh why, would his brain not engage with his mouth. He was Israel Hands, damn it! Not some bumbling fool, like that moronic so called co-captain and yet, that imbecile had managed to secure himself a somewhat steady- if not, whim-prone- relationship. Why was it so difficult for Izzy to be as equally successful in matters of the heart?!

As the seconds slipped by, he was losing you further and further into your spiral of self-doubt. "It's late. If you've got any spare bedding, I'm happy to take the floor." you conceeded, wanting the night to be over and done with now. The fortuitous opportunity to spend the night in Izzy's cabin had become your very own cursed suit. You should have just told him to 'piss off' and spent the night failing to deliver tea to your fellow crewmates but nooooooo, fate had decided that that was too kind at situation for you. Instead, you had had to play witness to revelation of Izzy's disinterest in you and now, all you wanted to do was pretend to sleep until the storm had passed and then, you would flee to a new ship and change your identity at the earliest opportunity.

"You can have the bed." he offered, knowing it was only fair to offer you tge one comfortable place to sleep, after he had made you feel so uncomfortable, that you were dismissing him completely and wanting to hurry to sleep, so you could leave immediately once the storm had settled.

"No, this is your room, that wouldn't be fair."

It was late and in all honesty, Izzy too just wanted this ordeal to meet it's end. There was only so much discouragement one man could feel before he decided enough was enough. "Just take the bed, (y/n)." he sighed wearily, hoping you would not argue further.

Oh, how wrong he was. "But your leg-"

Just as you had only hours before, you made a comment about his wellbeing and without control over his response, he was quick to snap, "-I'm still capable of lying down on the fucking floor with one leg." Izzy sneered, sick to the back teeth of people assuming that because he was one leg down, that he was now incapable of living the arduous life of a pirate. That his disability had made him soft now.

But you just had about enough of his tumultuous temper. "I know that, Izzy! Fuck, you make me feel like I can't ever say the right thing to you." you spat right back at him, arms folded crossed over your chest as you hugged yourself. You used the gesture as a a form of protection from whatever vile response he would say in rebuke to your confession. "I just don't want you to be uncomfortable., that's all. I know your leg still hurts sometimes." the final part of your defense was mumbled, as you will to fight died on arrival.

You were tired. Not just physically but mentally too. He exhausted you to no end. All you wished was to one day have a civilised conversation with this man, without fear that he would suddenly snarl at you in anger at the drop of a dime.

Despite your preparation of the onslaught of curses and vulgar language you had come to expect from talking back at the fearsome pirate, all you were met with was contemplative silence, as Izzy mulled over your words.

He had always known his short fuse would push you away one day. In fact, he was certain of it. If he were a better men, he would risk his entire savings on those odds. He would be a winning man while losing you forever. "Do you mean that?"

"What?"

Hearing you admit your frustrations, made the silver-haired pirate's heart sink into the pit of his stomach. Looking at you now, as you refused to return his gaze, made Izzy wish he could get on his knees before you and beg for forgiveness. "About me making you feel like you never say the right thing?"

"Well, yeah." you shrugged. Stede always preached that honesty was the best policy and as much as Izzy might have wanted to run thr man through with his blade, you had to admit, the co-captain made some good points. "I feel like I'm always walking on eggshells around you. One minute we'll be having a normal enough conversation and then the next, you're telling me to 'fuck off'. And I get that's just how you are and that's fine, I guess but it makes me really anxious. Like I'm just waiting to say something that'll accidentally make you angry."

You thought back to your time on deck that morning. How a perfectly fine conversation had ended with you humiliated and fighting back tears, as you had finished the dregs of your one hot tea. Knowing the crew had played witness to your talking down, had planted the seed of an unshakeable sense of shame within your very core. You had felt Lucius's eyes boring a hole into the back of your skull, as you had fled the scene. You thanked your fair weather stars that something had compelled him not to follow you. The last thing you had needed was pity. "You know what, this was a mistake. I'm sorry, forget I said anything. I'm gonna go."

You had planned in that moment to make a quick exit. Well, as quick as the violent swaying of the ship would permit you. As you stood on unsteady legs to leave, you felt something catch your wrist and prevent you from fleeing into the night.

Izzy's grip was not tight enough to hurt you. As a matter of fact, in all your time in knowing him, the word gentle was not a word you would have ever associated with the First Mate. Yet, the hand that encircled your arm was not only warm to the touch but could even be considered as tender in it's gesture. "Sit down." he softly commanded.

You hated how the tonal change made you feel weak at the knee. For goodness sake, the man did not even think you pretty! You should most definitely have not been feeling flushed at him calmly ordering you around. "I'd rather not." you said, voice strained, as you prayed he would not notice how fucking whipped you were for him.

"Just...sit down, (y/n)." he implored, regarding you with an expression that crumbled your resolve to runaway. So, instead, you sank back onto the bed, trying not to get distracted by the feeling of his hand still touching your flushed skin. The sensation threatened to send a shiver down your spine. This, this was what the man was capable of doing to you. If only he knew the power he had over you. You were melting with only a gentle hold.

He should have let go. Izzy was fully aware he was pushing his luck. Letting his fingers linger around your wrist, even though you were no longer a flight risk but he could not help himself. He was not an indulgent man. In reality, he was deprived, hollowed out and starving for all and any scraps of closeness that came his way. So, he held on...just for a moment longer. Relishing in the feeling of having you beneath his fingertips. In another life, he may have even been permitted to hold your hand. What a privilege it would be, to lace your fingers with his. Oh, how he yearned for such a simple touch. "I know that I'm a fucking nightmare to be around-"

And right on cue, you jumped to your defense. "-I didn't mean it like that!"

"Will you just shut the fuck up for a moment?" he started, quickly stopping himself once more. Was that type of talk not the exact reason he was trying to make amends? With a weary sigh, Izzy wiped a hand over his face, finally freeing your wrist. Much to your mutual disappointment. "Please?" he all but begged, causing your heart to skip a beat. "I never meant to make you feel that way. Out of all the morons on this ship, you...well, you actually make my life a little less shit. I can't promise I'll totally change but," this was a completely new side to the pirate you had hoped but could not ever confirm actually existed. "I'll try to make it feel less like eggshells around here." "That good enough for now?

After years of fighting tooth and nail for survival on ship after ship, any shred of vulnerability had been locked away, out harms away. With a heart turned to stone, harmful habits had been acquired and for a long time, that had been fine. Acceptable, even. Then Stede fucking Bonnet with his 'talk it through as a crew' had come along and turned Izzy's life of piracy upside down. Threats, fights and all sorts of vulgarity were no longer the standard upon the vessel and truth be told, Izzy was struggling with the adjustment. He knew he needed to change for the better but he had never had to motivation to do so. Not until you.

Then the silver-haired pirate waited with bated breath for your reply. Half-expecting, half-wanting you to completely reject his offer. It would be easier for him to remain set in his ways, to not put in the work. Your refusal would only fuel his terrible mood. It would be easier for Izzy to accept your hatred, than your kindness. Such tenderness woukd only ever leave him question, why? A wretched dog as he deserved only to be put down, not cared for by someone so conscientious and hard-working as yourself. You were the best of all of them.

So, when your tearful, "Thank you", left your lips, Izzy knew he was a goner. From the moment on, he would put in the work and strive to be worthy of your friendship. He had a long, arduous road ahead of him.

Maybe he could wait to start his self-improvement in the morning, he thought, as a yawn threatened yo spill from his lips. "That being said," he added, noting the way your glassy expression hardened, as you looked at him warily. "You're still taking the bed." he smirked, as unsurity morphed into incredulousness in an instant.

"Izzy!" your yell of exasperation only made his smile widen.

"That's an order, (y/n)."

Gently shoving his arm, you pouted. Glad the tense moment between you had passed. "You're not sleeping on the floor, you twat!"

Rolling his eyes but daring to lean into your side playfully, he scoffed. "Oh yeah and what's your bright idea then, that we both share the bed or something?!"

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A/N: Guess what happens in the next chapter...

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letsdeerintheheadlightsuniverse · 9 months ago

Text

<<Previous Chapter<<

**Masterlist**

>>Next Chapter>>

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

Pairing: Izzy Hands x gn!reader

Synopsis: Some bad habits are hard to break, and despite his best attempts to be kind, Izzy still manages to mess things up between you.

A/N: And we are back with the second chapter! Thank you for giving this fanfiction a chance. Every like and reblog means the world to me.

Content Warning: Self-depricating inner monologues, reference to the Kraken's torment and torture in Season 2, mutual pining and Izzy being a dick. This series is 18+, so minors dni. Go away (politely).

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It had to be noted that, the First Mate of the Revenge was indeed, a man of few words. And the few words that left his lips, were usually either a command or a curse. Though that was not quite strictly true when it came to addressing someone such as yourself. It had not gone unnoticed by the crew that, there was a certain softening of Izzy's tone, whenever he addressed you directly. His curses were said more in jest, than in true anger and there was something akin to fondness in his gaze, as he stared at you for longer than what was considered appropriate from a friend.

While some called Buttons a Sea Witch, perhaps it was you, who was the true magic wielder. Had you not ensnared the First Mate with your powers of compassion and competency? Though you sang no siren song like Swede, you had managed to captivate the mind and heart of the most austere person on the Revenge. If that were not the work of sorcery, then what else coukd it be?

Even now, as Izzy patrolled the deck, barking his usual commands and vulgar threats, there was no denying he kept glancing at the entrance to the hull, where you would be found within the ship's kitchen, helping Roach plan ahead for the upcoming storm.

"I mean look at him, the man's like a lovesick puppy." Lucius scoffed, as he watched the silver-haired pirate like a hawk, scrutinising over every movement and twitch with a level of surveillance that would put even the keenest-eyed night watcher to shame.

Cringing at the verbal observation, Oluwande dared to look in the general direction of the First Mate, whom had thankfully, not seemed to have paid attention to the scribe's declaration. "Sssh, Lucius. He'll hear you."

"Yeah, babe. I love you but you gotta keep your voice down." Pete agreed, taking the rope from his betrothed and making quick work of the shirked task, seeming happy enough to complete the work for them both.

Smirking at the horrified reactions, Lucius looked like a cat who had gotten the cream. Since his lover had taken charge of securing some nearby barrels, he took the opportunity to light himself a cigarette. "Good. I want him too because then, maybe if he does, he'll grow a pair of balls and actually do something about the situation."

"Have they seriously not confessed anything to each other yet?" Archie questioned, genuinely surprised that it had taken you both so long to finally couple up. In the same amount of time, she herself had managed to acquire two partners. Your dire situation did cause the pirate to question whetger or not you were absolutely useless when it came to the matter of love.

"Not according to (y/n), no."

"I wish they'd hurry up. I've got good money riding on them getting together before the next full moon." Wee John grumbled, as he carried a barrel passed the gossiping group. He had invested several coins into the outcome of your poorly-timed love life and by he'll or by high water, he was going to get a good return on his investment- even if it meant locking you and Izzy in the store cupboard himself. Hell, he'd shove you both into a burlap sack, if he thought it would boost his chances on winning the bet.

"You and me both." Archie scoffed.

He could hear them. Not clearly enough to make out what they were saying but enough to hear the sound of constant nattering. It was incessant, irritating. Like having tge constant buzz of a pesky wasp in you vicinity. Izzy longed for his days on the Queen Anne, where tge crew we focused on work, not idle chatter. Judging by the way that Lucius fellow kept glaring at him, the First Mate surmised that he was the topic of conversation. "Oi! You lot," he yelled, having finally reached the end of his patience. "I told you to prep the ship, not stand around gossiping like washer women!" leaning heavily against the railing, Izzy let out a string of curse words. Whilst not a religious man, he did ask whatever deity was listening, to give him strength and the will power to not throw someone overboard. "Fucking useless."

"Hey, Izzy."

He tensed at that familiar sound, that voice that never failed to stir something dark and wonderful within his soul. It brought to life a part of him he thought permanently dead. Turns out, it was just in a state of dormancy, waiting to be awakened at the right time. Or, at least of Izzy, the right person. "Aren't you supposed to be helping Roach lock down the pantry?" to an untrained ear, his lack of greeting might have sounded barbed and unwelcoming but you knew him better than that. The silver-haired pirate might have even gone so far as to say, you were the only one who knew him as well as himself.

The average person started a conversation with 'hello' but your dear Israel Hands was less conventional in his approach. "Yeah, we just finished. Oh, I brought you some tea. Thought you might appreciate it." you offered him one of the steaming cups of tea in yiur grasp. With a word of thanks, you both took a moment to savour the first sip, letting the warmth run through your veins and stave of tge slight chill in the air. "How's it going up here?"

"We'll be dead in the water come daybreak, if this lot don't do their fucking job right!" he all but screamed the final part of the sentence, easily earning himself a chorus of 'fuck off, Iggy' and 'we're doing our best here, dude!'

Your cheshire cat grin only grew, as you relished in the harmless feud between the crew and the First Mate. "Wow, that good, huh?" you teased, nudging Izzy with your elbow.

"Can you go down there and help 'em when you're finished with your tea? I need someone with half a braincell to check the sails are secured properly." he implored, pinching the bridge of his nose, as a migraine already started to form. Already feeling overwhelmed, the last thing Izzy needed was to add 'check the twats had correctly prepped the rigging' to his never-ending list of chores.

Sensing his palpable stress, you were quick to place a gentle hand on his shoulder in reassurance. Though public displays of affection were not common between you both, you speculated that since the pirate had not flinched but in fact, leaned into your touch, that he was comfortable with the gesture. "No problem, boss." his returned smile did not quite meet his eyes but a win was a win. You had at least eased Izzy of one burden. "How bad is the storm looking?"

When your hand eventually dropped from his arm, it took everything in Izzy's power to keep his voice steady, as he gave an answer to your question. Oh, how he longed to take your hand in his and place it back in his arm, so that he may feel your gentle warmth through the material of his shirt once more. "If Ed's calculations are correct, which they usually are, then...bad."

"Sounds like it'll be fun." you sighed, your attention now on the looming, dark grey clouds the besmirched the periwinkle skies with the promise of rain and turmoil.

While you were distracted by the landscape, Izzy was preoccupied by you. That was it, just you. There were not a multitude of opportunities in the day, where the First Mate had the chance to be this close to you. Where he could drink in your appearance, under the guise of merely being invested in your conversation. It felt wrong to him to be so infatuated with someone, who quite frankly, would never return his feelings but he was a starved man. Taking in every moment, every snippet of closeness he could get, until one day, your heart belonged to another.

Sometimes, he liked to delude himself and believe- just for a moment- that your kindness, your patience towards him, were all a hint towards you sharing his adoring sentiments. That perhaps, you could indeed fall for someone so wretched and broken as him.

The illusion never lasted long. Such fairytales of beauties falling so hopelessly in love with a beast were nothing but children's stories. The very same fairytales found in Stede's library, no doubt. And Izzy, well, Izzy was nothing if not a realist. He knew that you only tolerated him because you felt forever in his debt for saving your life. The silver-haired pirate had told you time and time again that you did not owe him anything but being as stubborn as you are, he doubted that you had paid him any mind. "Where are you staying tonight?" he asked, tone softer than he would have liked. Keeping up appearances around you was nearly impossible.

"I'm gonna bunk up with Oluwande, Jim, and Archie. They've got space on the floor of their cabin."

It was a relief, he mused, that at least you would be sleeping somewhere safe tonight, rather than in the communal space with the others. Still, Izzy could not help but wonder what it would be like, to offer you his own cabin to stay in. He would sleep on the floor, of course, he was a gentleman after all- well, that was debatable but he did possess some morals and understanding of social etiquette- and the last thing the pirate would want to do, was force you into an uncomfortable situation but no. Instead, he kept his yearnings to himself and responded in his usually curt manner. "That's good."

"What about you?" you asked, wondering if Izzy had plans on how he was going to ride out the storm. You assumed alone. Although, you felt a pang of jealously towards the non-existent crewmate, who may one day occupy the same living quarters as the man you were hopelessly besotted with. It was silly really, to feel resentment for someone who had not yet joined the team of misfit pirates and yet, it was inevitable that they would soon in the near future, waltz into Izzy's life and give him the love he most deserved. And as much as it pained you to accept your fate, you knew that could never be you.

"What about me?" he shrugged, unaware of your inner turmoil.

Correct, it could never be you who had the privilege to wake up beside him everyday or have the chsnce to call him yours. He would never see you as anything but some wounded creature he had saved from the brink of death. Certainly not worthy of courting the infamous Israel Hands. "Well-"

But before you could answer, Izzy caught sight of something. No, someone watching you both talk. Lucius. Fuck, he loathed that young man. He could not quite fathom what it was about the scribe that made his blood boil but just seeing him standing there, occasionally whispering something to Pete and smirking, as he cast a glance in your general direction, made Izzy see red.

Then it clicked. The oncoming storm. Of course. Those bastards. They knew of his past, thanks to Fang. No doubt they had told you the story too about how as a young sailor, he had not been able to keep down the contents of his stomach during a storm. Fuck, that nicknane too. You must have been revolted by him. Thought him completely and utterly pathetic. "-Look, whatever those twats have been saying, it's not true. I threw up one time-" Izzy began to defend himself, hoping it was not too late to salvage his reputation.

"-Oh, shit. No, I'm not referring to that. Fuck." you were quick to interrupt his rambling explanation. Sure, yeah, you knew the origin of his nickname, Izzy the Spewer but the story had not altered your opinion of the pirate. So, he threw up! Big deal. So had you during your first storm, and no one had bothered to call you, (y/n) the vomiter. "I just know that, storms bring up a lot of memories for some of the crew." you further explained, hoping he woukd catch the underlying meaning behind your words. "If you catch my drift?"

It took a moment but then a flicker of understanding sparked within Izzy's eyes, as he fully understand your insinuation. "Ah."

"Yeah." you smiled meekly, hoping not to trigger any unwanted memories for the pirate. All you wanted was to assure him that, if he needed comfort, you would be more than willing to provide him with comfort and company until the rain ceased and the skies became agate blue once more. "Will...will you be okay? Tonight, that is."

He knew, somewhere deep down. Deep, deep down, that your asking after his wellbeing was not an attack on his character, that you did not view him as weak for what had happened those many moon cycles ago, when the Kraken had stole him of his leg. This was your way of saying, "Hey, I'm here for you. If you need me", right?

Wrong. The poisonous voice of reasoning whispered in his ear, reminding him not to bet soft and be so sentimental. Of course you pitied him. How coukd you not? He was a disgrace. A washed up has been of a legend, who could no longer ride the coat tails of Blackbeard anymore. You were not offering him anything in the way of kindness, you were just reminding him of yet another mistake in his checkered past.

Before he could stop himself, the words left his lips and it was too late to take them back. "I'm not a fucking child, (y/n)." Izzy almost winced at how hurt you looked, as you flinched at his sudden outburst. Each time- and unfortunately, there had been more than one occasion- your pained expression left a lasting scar upon his heart. A fresh wound of regret that bled out over and over again. He did not mean to be this way with you. It was a defence mechanism, not that was much of an excuse really. Izzy should have- no, he did know- better. His sharp tongue was going to drive you away one day and he would only have hinsekf to blame. What's done was done.

There was nothing he could do, except keep up the charade and retire quickly from sight. He did not have to glance in the direction of the crew to know that they had all played witness to the entire exchange. No doubt he would have to sleep with one eye open tonight or maybe Roach would just spit in his food like last time. "Finish your tea and go fucking check the rigging. That's an order."

"Yes, boss." only minutes earlier, that nickname had been fondly used, now it just felt bitter to the taste.

Without another word, the First Mate abandoned your side and disappeared below deck.

Under the guise of work, your friends had been watching the entire exchange through side eye glances or in Lucius's case, just straight up staring.

Though idle hands appeared busy, Pete had in fact, tied the same knot several times. It was important to get everything secured ahead of the storm but in that moment, his mind was distracted. Casting a glance at the love of his life, his suspicions were confirmed, Lucius felt the same way as him- completely and utterly livid on your behalf. "Yeah, you ain't winning that money back, mate." he muttered to a frozen in rage Wee John, who merely stood holding another barrel, looking like he was contemplating throwing it at Izzy.

"Fucks sake, what a dickhead." he hissed, seemingly deciding against the idea, as he placed it with a resounding thud upon the deck.

Lucius could not stand to see you looking so hurt, as you stared longingly after the bastard who had dared upset you. The scribe knew he always teased you about your intense crush on the First Mate but it was during moments like these, where he really had to question what it was that made you so smitten with Izzy the Spewer. The man was volatile and about as pleasant as a cup of cold sick. Worst of all, this was not the first time he had stormed off after saying something cruel, leaving you to pick up the pieces of your hurt emotions. "I'm gonna go and see if they're okay."

"Maybe give it a moment, babe. Look." Pete urged his partner to take pause and watch you down your drink.

Despite wanting to abandon his post and assume the role of comforting friend, Lucius instead watched as you fought back tears and climbed the rigging, towards the crow's nest, no doubt seeking some privacy away from the watchful eyes of your friends.

"He really is the fucking worst. I genuinely do not get why (y/n) likes him so much." Archie mused, as she wondered if it was possible to find a snake at sea and put it in the bastard's bed?

With all the mysticism of a Sea Witch, the conversation was quickly intercepted by Buttons, whom decided to impart a great wisdom upon those in his vicinity. "'Love looks not with the eyes but with the mind. Therefore, is winged cupid painted blind?'"

There was a pause, as the gathered crew ruminated on his words. Well, partially ruminated. Most just sat there, looking confused or proverbially scratching their heads, unsure what to make of his revelation. Not one to admit his lack of knowledge, Lucius made a conscientious effort to nod his head and pretend he had understood the poet musings of the fellow pirate. "Right, yeah. What he said. Makes total sense."

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

A/N: Thank you for reading up until the end of the chapter! I look forward to updating you all with a new instalment soon. Before I go, can anyone guess where Buttons's quote comes from?

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letsdeerintheheadlightsuniverse · 8 months ago

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<<Previous Chapter <<

**Masterlist**

>>Next Chapter>>

Pairing: Izzy Hands x gn!reader

Synopsis: Will Izzy's guilt continue to drive him away from being by your side or will he finally accept the light and free himself from the brewing darkness within?

A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who voted. I hope this is everything you want! This chapter follows the events of the Bonus Anti-Hero chapter, so if you haven't read it, you can follow the 'previous chapter' link above.

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

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

"I can't do this, Captain." you admitted through gritted teeth, as you leaned heavily onto the bucket you cradled between your legs.

You were in Hell. Actually Hell. So sure you had died upon the treacherous waves and were now bring subjected to the worst of tortures. Perhaps that was why you were yet to see Izzy yet. Despite his own harsh opinions of himself, you truly believed that Israel Hands was a good man. Maybe even one of the best you had had the good fortune of meeting, during your travels across the seven seas. No, someone as loyal- albeit, sometimes misguided and stubborn in their decisions- would be in Hell alongside you.

The co-captain could tell you were struggling and damn it, he felt completely powerless to ease your suffering. He himself was no stranger to infected wounds and all the delightful symptoms that entailed. The fever, the shivers, the nausea- all played a part in the general unpleasantness that came with an injury. "You have to, okay? I know you want to give up right now but you can't. Just be brave for me a little bit longer, yeah?" not a wordsmith by nature, he was doing his best to comfort you. Was that not what Edward had always craved when he had fallen ill on Hornigold's ship? Just someone to hold his hand and tell him it was going to be alright. Such a simple request that had been denied to him time and time again. Of course, then he had met Izzy but that was a walk down memory lane for another time. "That's it, there you go. You're okay." the small circles he rubbed into your back, were most welcome, while to once again coughed your guts up into the bucket. "What's the diagnosis, doc?" Edward focused his attention upon the other man present in the room.

"The wounds infected. Looks like there's pus gathering. Probably going to have to drain it. Truthfully," there was a pause as the medical professional chose his words carefully. "things are going to get a lot worse before it gets better." he had seen wounds worse than the one inflicted upon your body. Though certain you would live to see your next voyage, the gentleman was still exercising extreme caution when it came to treating you. One small mistake or negligence on his part and it would be lights out for you. "I'm also concerned about the fever and vomiting but let's focus on one thing at a time."

"Captain, it'd be quicker just run me through with a sword."

"And probably less painful." the doctor joked, hoping to add some lightness to the dire situation but his quip did not garner the jovial response he had been hoping for. Instead, Ed glared daggers at him. Oh, if looks could kill, the sliver of a men would have been dead a thousand times over. "Ahem, anyway. I'll go an prepare my tools. I won't be long." he excused himself, wanting to make a hasty retreat. Ed's reputation preceeded him and the doctor just prayed that he made it out of this house all with all of his bones intact and fingers still attached to his body.

Upon his exit, you heard a murmured exchange between him and another in the hallway but your focus was on the raging fire that engulfed your entire being and the churning in your stomach, that threatened to provoke another round of coughing up your guts.

"How're ya hanging in there, kid?" though his words were good-humoured, there was a undeniable tenderness in your Captain's actions, as he brought a cool wash cloth to your fash, washing away any rogue spittle from around your mouth. It felt almost perverse to have the legendary Blackbeard dote upon you in your time of need but hey, you were not going to start counting chickens. You were just grateful to be a part of a misfit crew, who cared about one another and that you could call family.

"Just fucking kill me already, Captain." you all but begged, already struggling under the immense physical exertions of your current symptoms. Though not known to be a coward by nature, you were fully prepared to be removed from the rotation of existence, if it meant forgoing the experience of more afflictions upon your persons.

Oh, how the pirate knew the wanting of death well. How many times had he begged Izzy to out him out of his misery, during their time together on the Queen Anne? Hell, Ed had literally handed the First Mate a gun and giaded the man to shoot him right there and then, when he had been in the wicked grasps of the Kraken. "Mmm, can't do that. Sorry." he replied almost playfully, trying to lighten the mood slightly, as he aimed to pull your thought process away from such dark desires.

"Fuck you, then. I guess." you grumbled miserably, wondering if Izzy had been by your side, would he have relented to your request? Perhaps if you annoyed him enough, he may have run you through with his sword.

"You heard the doc, it'll 'get worse before it gets better'. Just gotta weather this storm and then it'll be...fuck, what's the metaphor Stede uses? Oh, yeah! Sunny skies!"

"Yeah, no offence but Captain Stede isn't the one who's about to have his arm fucking-"

====

"Drained? Oh...that doesn't sound very pleasant." Stede grimaced, nose and mouth scruching in that irritating way, that never failed to irk the First Mate, whom stood diligently beside him.

"It's not. It's incredibly painful. I'll try and administer some kind of mild sedative to help lower the pain levels but really, some decent rum will probably take the edge off better." the doctor further explained, his gaze shifting between the two men. There was something incredibly unnerving about the way the silver-haired pirate continued to stare daggers at him. What was it with this crew and having murderous expressions?

"Izzy's got a bottle of rum. Haven't you, Iz? It looked unopened too, right?" of course Stede fucking Bonnet had noticed such a minor detail. Man was a total idiot when it came to things about piracy but give him a brief insight into your lodgings and suddenly, the twat had a photographic memory. Upon hearing the doctor's prognosis, Izzy wished he was black out drunk right about now.

This was his fault. Everything you were about to experience. Every second of pain, any blood you had needlessly shed, whatever horrors you were about to face at the hands of this twatty doctor- it was all Izzy's fault, he decided.

"Get the patient to drink some. In the meantime, I'm going to go and prepare my tools and-"

"(Y/N)." Izzy's sharp tone cut across the doctor's explanation like the knife he was about to go sterilise.

"Pardon?"

Stede almost smirked at the unwarranted hostility. Izzy might have thought his was covert in concealing his feelings for you, but in reality, the man was an open book. Who else would the silver-haired pirate borderline snarl a warning at for forgoing the usage of someone's name? Well, that just proved that you were not a mere 'someone' to the First Mate.

"Their name is (Y/N), not 'patient'."

====

"Hey...hey, C-Captain?" you gasped between another round of vomiting. How was it even still possible for you to be emptying the contents of your stomach? Surely, there was nothing left to generate into...

Edward winced as you bent over the bucket once more, this time merely dry heaving. A sheen of sweat covered your body and soaked through your flimsy shirt and linen trousers- all hand-me-downs from the crew, after you had already perspired through your own attire. Though you felt warm to the touch, you shivered as if you were made of ice. In conclusion, you looked like shit. "Yeah, kid?"

Under normal circumstances, you would have been hesitant to make any kind of request to the Captain but desperate times called for desperate measures. Having been stripped of your pride and dignity, you had no inhibitions when you beseeched the silver-haired pirate to fulfil your only desire. "Can...can you get Izzy, please? I..."

====

"I'm not going." it had to be said that Israel Hands was many things but never would have Stede labelled the great swordsman to be a coward, especially when it came to matters involving you. Sure, he often- okay, always- shied away from divulging his true feelings to you but that did not make him a coward, so to speak. The co-captain understood how difficult it was to admit your innermost desires to the one you so adored. Goodness knew he had literally fled back to his wife and kids, just to hide away from how he truly felt about one, Edward "Blackbeard" Teach.

However, repressed feelings or not, there was absolutely no need for Izzy to be digging in his heels now. Especially when Stede had asked the silver-haired pirate so nicely to accompany him to your room. "Oh really? And why's that exactly?" he huffed. Whatever the excuse, Stede was not going to let Izzy off the hook so easily. His presence was required and by he'll or by highwater, Stede was going to deliver the First Mate to your bedside. Maybe he could ask Fang to carry Izzy down the hallway?

Even Izzy had to admit, his wanting to remain locked away in his lodgings was a weak excuse at best. Truthfully, he had no real reason for wanting to stay away, other than to wallow in his own brooding. The guilt of knowing that your injuries were the culmination of his past actions and the ill-judged decisions during the storm, was eating away at him. Carving a hollowed space within his chest, where the darkness liked to dwell. That obsidian black, bitter thing. Nothing good was ever born from that corrupted gloom. With each passing moment, it threatened to consume him in his entirety and honestly? Izzy was more than ready to embrace the darkness. When had men like him ever been able to freely enjoy the light? The warmth of innocence was for people like yourself. Fundamentally good and beautifully flawed, not jaded and wicked as him. He had fed another's darkness once, it was time to nurture his own.

Knowing you were alive was enough for Izzy. To see you suffering from the aftermath of your knife wound was a sight he did not need to witness. The image would surely become seared into his retinas. "What use am I going to be, Bonnet? Do I look like a fucking doctor to you?"

There was some truth to his words. What was the point exactly of him playing witness to your agony? He could hardly relieve you of whatever symptoms plagued at current and let's face it, Izzy was not exactly known to be the most...in tune with his feelings. If it was comfort you needed, you were better off with someone like Stede fucking Bonnet or even Fang. Gods, Fang knew how to comfort a person like it was nobody's business. Had the pirate not been the one to hold Izzy in his time of vulnerability? And if Frenchie had not been fighting for his life in the room adjacent to yours, well, he would surely have been first in line to offer a hand to hold.

At the vocalisation of the First Mate's harsh response, Stede's facial expression soften ever so slightly. Maybe that was it, then. He concluded, realising that Izzy's reluctance to be by your side, steamed from his inability to provide you with the level of care he believed you needed. No, deserved. The silver-haired pirate was so overly critical of his own skillset that, he truly did not see all that he could offer to the situation. Give the man a sword and he became a soldier. Ask him to be in attend the bedside of the person he loved most? The man was a bloody mouse.

And it was not as if the feelings were not reciprocated! You were so clearly besotted with the man too. In fact, Stede was in no doubt that Izzy's companionship alone, would bring some joy to your otherwise currently very bleak existence. Perhaps a smile would even be on the cards, if only he could just find a way to lure Izzy down the hallway.

Desperate times called for desperate measures. "FANG!" the Gentleman Pirate called out, much to the confusion of the First Mate. What on earth was he up to now?

====

"Okay, okay, try not to talk, yeah? I hear you, kid. Loud and clear. If it's Iz you want-" a knock at the door interrupted Ed's assurance. Hell, the co-captain was prepared to drag the First Mate by the scruff of his neck if he had to. Anything to get him to darken your door way and finally put an end to his unceasing cycle of guilt. "come in!" his focus was torn away from whoever tentatively opened the door, as your body was wracked with another gagging fit.

The circles rubbing your back in soothing circles faltered momentarily and you found yourself craving the comforting gesture. "Can...can you just get him, please?" you cried, tears streaming down your face, as you sobbed. Damn it, Israel Hands, why were you always so far out of reach, you thought, anguished. "I don't-I don't think I can do this without him. I need him. I fucking need him like I need oxygen. It's easier to breathe when he's around." you doubted your words made any sense but still, you rambled on. Needing Ed to understand just how serious you were in your appeal. If you could have left the room and retrieved the First Mate yourself, you woukd have been down that hallway in a blink of an eye but you were now reliant on the goodwill of another. "He's my Stede." you murmured, hoping the comparison would truly articulate just how important Izzy was to you. "He's my lighthouse. So, please. Please just go get him. Even if he doesnt want to see me. Even if he thinks it's pathetic how much I need him, just go get him. Can you do that, Cap-" you lifted your gaze to finally face your Captain but gone were the familiar brown eyes. Instead, replaced with cerulean blue. A oceanic gaze you had wished to drown in a thousand times over. "Izzy." you murmured between sniffles.

Countless nights had been whiled away, as you fantasised about the seemingly unobtainable opportunity to share a bed with one, Israel Hands. The scenario and setting had always changed depending on your nocturnal preference, but one element was always certain- the First Mate of the Revenge was always, always your bedfellow. Just how Not Safe For Ship the daydream was, depended purely upon how riled up the mere sight of the silver-haired pirate had made you feel throughout your morning duties. Oh Calypso, the things you had imagined doing to that man. Never had you imagined him sitting beside you, playing nurse while you were plagued with fever.

However, there was absolutely nothing alluring or desirable about your current predicament. His hands may have been upon you, but there were no burning touches that sparked a flame of yearning. The only rising temperature was your fever, which continued to climb in numbers and refused to break any time soon. Gods, you felt disgusting. Absolutely putrid. Down right dreadful. To add salt to injury, you looked equally wonderful, too. There was a delightful touch of corpse about your appearance.

You did not have much time to dedicate to your self-deprecating thoughts, as you felt another unpleasant wave of nausea take hold of your senses, forcing you to heave whatever was left within the containment of your stomach. Long gone was the clear broth and crackers. There was no sipped at water left in your system. Hell, even the bile seemed to be running thin now. Soon, you would be gagging on nothing but air and your own tears.

Still, the hand rubbing your back was nice at least.

The wretching gave away to exhaustion. With your body unable to expell any further contents from your stomach, you indulged yourself a little and leaned into your companion's hold. "You're here." you breathed incredulously and despite the agony and torment, you smiled for the first time in...goodness, how many days had you even been occupying the inn? Keeping time had seemed so irrelevant in the grand scheme of simply trying to survive. Nonetheless, you smiled at the pirate. Genuinely thankful that he was now with you. Your beacon of hope, of light. Here to guide you through your darkest hour.

"I..." though being by your side felt as natural as breathing, the truth was a little less romantic. In failing to drag the First Mate to your room himself, Stede fucking Bonnet had enlisted the help of Fang, whom had- quite unceremoniously- carried Izzy down th hallway. All while that twat of a Captain had demanded that the First Mate stop being so stubborn and for once in his life, listen to his heart instead of his head.

Seeing you now, a former shadow of your usually vibrant self, was a difficult sight to process. He had been correct in his earlier reluctance, the image of your chapped, bloody lips and bruised eyes would surely haunt him every time he closed his eyes.

Upon hearing your heartfelt admission, Izzy's mind was in a tailspin. His insticts were telling him to flee, that he should not have been here but maybe, by your beside was the only place for him to be right now. No, Izzy knew in his heart of hearts that, he should have been by your side sooner. Much, much sooner. Except extreme guilt had kept him away. That same guilt was still present, gnawing away at his subconscious like a fiendish creature of insatiable appetites. However, upon hearing you say you needed him- you needed him!- the man had experienced a perspective shift. "I'm sorry I kept you waiting."

"It's okay." you smiled at him. Genuinely smiled at him. There was not disappointment in resent in you tone. Just pure relief that he had finally made it way to your side. Bless the gods, for answering your prayers. The road ahead was going to be one full of pain and distress but with Izzy holding your hand, maybe- just maybe- you would be able to weather the storm and survive long enough to witness those 'sunny skies'. "Just don't leave me again this time, yeah?"

As much as Izzy wanted to address your labelling of him as your 'Stede', the pirate rationalised that there were more important matters at hand. For starters, he realised it would be more productive to seek atonement for his sins, rather than allow himself to be consumed by the darkness, that threatened to drag him down into a never-ending spiral of despair. After all, how could he possibly deny such a heartfelt request from the one he was now eternally indebted to. Gods, you had called him a 'lighthouse', for fucks sake. You bewitching creature, you. In that moment, the First Mate knew, he would follow you to end of the earth, should you ask him so.

He loved you. He loved you, he loved you, he loved you!

The past was unchangeable but Izzy did have some say on how the future could play out. You had needed him that night on the ship and you needed him now. Like hell was he going to let you down a second time. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise."

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letsdeerintheheadlightsuniverse · 10 months ago

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Fellow pirates!

Following the tragic news about the future of ofmd, I've decided to channel my frustrations elsewhere.

They might have officially put the proverbial nail in the show's coffin, but that doesn't mean we can't remind the streaming services that as a fandom, we aren't going anywhere anytime soon.

Please feel free to tag your posts, fanfictions, fanart, analysis, rants, and all things ofmd related with #avengeofmd (if you want to, of course).

Remember, it's not over until Izzy sings La Vi En Rose!

(You may also like and reblog this post to spread awareness)

#avengeofmd #avenge ofmd #ofmd season 2 #ofmd s2 #save ofmd #ofmd izzy #ofmd #izzy hands #stede bonnet #blackbonnet #blackbeard #talk it through as a crew #renew as a crew #season 3 renewal #letsdeerintheheadlightsuniverse #letsdeerintheheadlights #our flag means death #reblog to boost #reblog to spread the word

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letsdeerintheheadlightsuniverse · 9 months ago

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If The Night Manager can get renewed for two more seasons after last airing in 2016, then there's still hope for OFMD.

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letsdeerintheheadlightsuniverse · 9 months ago

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Izzy Hands. That's it. That's the post.

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letsdeerintheheadlightsuniverse · 9 months ago

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I need Izzy Hands to tell me I'm useless (affectionately) but then give me the most awkward of hugs because that man does not know what he's doing but he's trying his best and so am I. This would surely cure my depression.

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letsdeerintheheadlightsuniverse · 9 months ago

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Justice for Gentlebeard! #avengeofmd Where's our final third season, HBOMax?

(Please feel free to like and reblog this post)

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letsdeerintheheadlightsuniverse · 9 months ago

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<<Previous Chapter <<

**Masterlist**

>>Next Chapter>>

Pairing: Izzy Hands x gn!reader

Synopsis: And there was only one bed...

A/N: It's me, hi. You know, this chapter was both interesting and difficult to write. I found myself doubting my storytelling abilities, so I genuinely hope that it lives up to the standard of the previous instalments. Please, when you're liking and reblogging these chapters, feel free to comment. It's nice to see people interacting and reacting to my work. It also helps me to know what people are enjoying, so I can tailor my writing, if necessary. Okay, bye now.

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

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

Sleep was for the weak, and let's just say, you were indeed weak, but as luck may have it, good fortune was not on your side. Despite yours and Izzy's argument about who would take up residence in his bed for the night, the conversation had been for nought, as the suggestion to just share the damn space died upon your tongue, when the first call to attention echoed down the timber halls of the Revenge.

"We're taking water!" you heard Fang's distinctive cry.

"Shit." the silver-haired pirate hissed in annoyance beside you, already making a move to grab his discarded waistcoat and boot.

"That's bad, right?" you asked, nerves rising. You had not experienced a storm of this severity whilst at sea. You certainly had not been on a ship that was taking water. The prospect of the Revenge sinking, twisted your gut into anxious knots. Sure, you could swim but for how long? Even if you did manage to keep a float until the storm passed, how long could you keep your head above water before another ship passed and picked you up? No, correction, if they picked you up.

"'Bad' is a fucking understatement." Izzy all but laughed humourlessly. Not meaning to sound so mocking. Of course you were scared, what normal person would not be fearful of their poor odds of survival? After living a majority of his life at sea, Izzy had grown numb to the liklihood of drowning. He accepted that as a pirate, your days were numbered. Lower even than those who dwelled on land but that was the profession fate had chosen for him. Why fight the inevitable? Despite his grim acceptance, he wanted to pause and comfort you. To lie and say it would be okay. Maybe even pull you into a fleeting kiss, since it seemed unlikely you would all live to see another sunrise. He would have nothing to lose, with the only gain being finally learning just how sweet you tasted.

"Told you Poseiden hates us." your attempt at humour was admirable but the evident shake in your voice caused the delivery to fall flat.

Gods, he adored you. Even when terrified, there was something so disarmingly charming about your personality. "Stay here." Izzy commanded, knowing you were likely to follow him to the deck. As much as your skills would undoubtedly be an asset to the team members already battling against the elements, the mere thought that something horrendous could happen to you, had the First Mate devising a plan to keep you in the hold.

"What, no!" you protested, confused as to why the pirate would want you to stay away from the main deck. Sure, you might not have been as seasoned a pirate as Ed or Fang but you still knew enough to be of use. "You're going to need all competent hands on deck. You said so yourself earlier."

"That's why I need you down here." that's why I need you out of harms way, he thought internally. "Edward's gonna be out on the deck with Bonnet."

"Yeah, so?" you frowned, not quite understanding the trajectory of his point. Where else were the captains going to be, sequestered away in their cabin while everyone risked their life to keep the Revenge sailing? A unlikely story.

"Some of the crew aren't going handle that too well." hell, he was not handling it well but someone had to take charge and consider the wellbeing of the misfit crew. While he himself could not provide them with any actual support, you- oh goodness- you could tame ever the wildest of beasts into submission with your freely given smiles and affections. You had unlocked something long dormant within the silver-haired pirate. Something he assumed he had lost forever in exchange for his reputation and legend.

"Why wouldn't..." then it clicked. You faltered in your questioning, as your mind connected the sickening dots. "Shit, the storm."

"And with Edward at the wheel, it'll be too much for them." For them, he thought bitterly, as if his own mind was not trying to coax him into a state of remembrance. Fuck it, any unwanted flashbacks to that tragic night, all those many moons ago, would just have to haunt him in whatever realm lay beyond this mortal life. Izzy did not have time to focus on his own pain. When did he ever? That being said, each boom of thunder was starting to sound eerily like the shot of a gun.

"What about you?" you implored, knowing that Izzy rarely focused on his own thoughts and feelings. While such a practice made him a ruthless pirate, there was no denying that such strength took a heavy toll on his mental and physical wellbeing.

At the sound of your question and the saddened look upon your features, the First Mate yearned to lie in your arms and have you comfort him in that tender way of yours, that made his knees weak. He had observed time and time again, you whispering sweet nothing to a trembling Frenchie or carefully hold Archie's hand when things got a little too overwhelming. Izzy knew what you were capable of and he wanted to experience it too.

"Fuck off worrying about me. I'm First Mate, my feelings come second to the survival of everyone on this fucking ship, got that?" and there it was, the titular reason you had fallen completely head over heels for one Israel Hands. Too stubborn for his own good. Despite his 'I don't give a fuck' attitude, it was painfully obvious that he did care. He cared so fucking much, to the point it hurt. Figuratively and literally. Whether it was taking a blade on someone's behalf or protecting the crew in the middle of a storm- Izzy's would do anything to keep the crew safe.

Upon recognising this, you realised you would do anything for that man. If he asked you to jump, you would say, 'how high?' His loyalty to others ran deep but yours for him, well, it burned brighter than the hottested of fires. Once a spark, was now a full on flame- all consuming and enveloping every fibre of your very being. You were not just devoted to Izzy, you were a fucking acolyte, ready to fall to your knees and give him whatever he wished to take. "What do you need from me?"

"To stay down here." where I know you'll be safe. Safer. He corrected himself. There was no real 'safe' when it came to a storm of this severity. "Help anyone who needs it. Keep 'em calm and keep 'em below deck. Understood?"

With a nod, you agreed. A small smile played on your lips, as you responded with a familiar, "Yes, boss."

"Can you get to the rec room?"

"I'll manage."

And with a solemn nod, he moved to make his way down the hallway, proceeding as quickly as he could, given the violent swaying of the ship. The unmistakable lump in his throat made it difficult to breathe. Whatever conflicting emotions he was feeling, Izzy needed to push them down- deep down- into the recesses of his very being and focus on the predicament in hand. Though he was pessimistic about the outcome of the night, if there was even a sliver of hope that the crew would all live to witness another day, then he would do everything in his power to ensure you felt the sun grace you skin once more.

Hey, Izzy!" you call made him freeze in place. He had only moved a few few feet away. Had something awful already befelled you in the soace of 20 seconds? He turned with a frown painted on his face. There was still so much left unsaid between you both, that you wished to confess in that moment. Three little words dancing upon your tongue, as they clawed passed the barrier of your lips, demanding the silver-haired pirate's attention. "Please be careful."

"I promise." his vow still echoed in your thoughts for tens of minutes later, when you were finally alone.

It was now your turn to make yourself useful. With Izzy busy helping his captains, you needed to make sure you remained true to your word. Half the crew were still traumatised by their time sailing with the Kraken. Izzy was right about one thing, your friends were going to need all the compassion and support you had to offer, in order to survive this storm. Although an buoyant and intact ship would probably help matters greatly too.

You had often boasted that, you knew the Revenge like the back of your own hand. Even blindfolded, you were sure you could navigate the halls with ease and still find yourself exactly were you needed to be. But during a storm as unforgiving as this one? You were having difficulties staying upright, let alone actually arriving at your chosen destination. With no Izzy to hold on to, you were on your own and praying you did not accidentally smack your head against any of the available surfaces.

So, when you caught sight of your fellow crewmate, Frenchie, exiting one room and disappearing into the storage hold, you were quick- well, as quick as you could manage- to follow him into a slightly cramped space. "Frenchie!" you greeted him, thankful to be out of the hallway. At least in here, there were crates you could grab onto to keep your balance. "Hey, Frenchie. What are you...doing..." whatever you had planned to say next, died upon your lips, as you caught sight of the serrated silver blade he gripped tightly in his first. "Frenchie, what...what's going on?"

You were regarded with wild eyes, as the man before you, saw ghosts of trauma past flicker in and out of existence. "H-He's gonna kill us."

The world around him was not his own. He was reliving the events of a time gone by and all you could do, was try and coax him back to the present. "Who, French? Hey, hey!" you gently turned his head, so that he faced you once more. Tears of frustration spilled down his cheeks in a steady cascade, which you were quick to wipe away. "Look at me." only when he finally met your gaze, did your offer him a sympathetic smile. Your heart ached to see your friend so distraught. So lost. Goodness knows he deserved better. "Hey, what's going on, love?"

"Blackbeard. He's planning to sink the ship with all of us on it." Frenchie murmured, almost allowing himself to lean into your touch.

It was moments like these that got him through each day. Rare instances where he could show vulnerability, without the fearsome gaze of his Captain watching his every move, threatening punishment to any outward display of softness. Izzy had dared to call the environment 'poisoned'. Izzy had paid with his leg. Maybe eventually, his life. Or had he already died? It was so difficult to think straight and remember, there were too many conflicting thoughts spinning around in Frenchie's head. His whole world felt as if it were off kilter or perhaps that was just the storm rocking the ship?

"French-"

"I saw him, he's at the wheel right now!"

"Sweetheart, that's not what's-"

In an instant, his hand reached out to hold onto you, to keep you in place. To keep you near. Safe. Yes, safe, that was it. He...he was going to keep you out of harm's way. Out of the reach of Blackbeard's wrath. Ivan was dead. Izzy, too. Out of everyone else on the ship, you were the softest by far. Too soft for your own good. You needed protecting. "I'm gonna...I'm gonna stop him. You don't have to worry, (y/n)."

"French, Frenchie. Hey," "Hey, listen to me. I know w-what it might look like but it's different this time. Ed's not trying to hurt us. He's steering the ship away from the storm. Stede's up there helping him right now." "Hey French, sweetheart. Why...why don't you give me the knife."

You were losing him or maybe he was already lost. It was too difficult to tell if any of your reassurances would actually reach your crewmate in his time of anguish. You felt like a failure, having promised Izzy to make sure everyone was okay and yet, in Frenchie's time of need, you were clueless on how to bring him back from the brink of insanity. "Frenchie, it's not safe for you to be walking around with a knife. You could slip and hurt yourself." the silver shone in the low light- dangerous and ready to inflict pain. You held no fear for yourself, knowing Frenchie would never dream of hurting you. Hell, he was so hellbent on ensuring your safety, he was willing to kill Ed. "Please, love. Please, give me the-"

The rest of the sentence never fell from your lips, as the remaining lights flickered out in an instant and you felt yourself careen forwards, as the boat threatened to tip onto it's side. Sending you, Frenchie and the knife, tumbling into the surrounding darkness. I'm sorry, Iz. You thought with finality, as your consciousness was snuffed out like the flame of a candle.

"PEEEEEETE!" it was unclear who the scream came from but the sentiment was all shared amongst the crew.

It was not just 'bad', Izzy thought bitterly, as any shred of hope within him withered and died, it was downright fucked. This was it, this must have been how it ended.

"Oh god, oh god. Man overboard! Man overboard!" Stede cried out, alerting all those top deck of the situation. Much to the man's credit, though he could be a bit of a shit Captain, in that moment he at least called everyone to act. Shouting instructions left, right and centre. If there was one Stede Bonnet succeeded in, it was caring about the life and safety of his crew. Of course, he knew what to do if one of them fell over the side of the ship. "Fang, Roach, get the rescue boat ready! We need to get someone in the water to fetch him." upon noticing some of the other pirates still too close to edge for his liking, the blonde was quick to reprimand them. "Everyone else, stay away from the railings! I can't risk having more men in the water."

Whilst Stede was one to preserve life, Ed was a little more reckless in his approach. Not one to sit around and wait for a rescue plan, he was already tying his hair from out of his face and unloading the knives and gun from upon his person. There was a chance he was going to need to swim and the extra weight of weapons would only cause him to sink. "I'm getting in the fishing boat."

"Like hell you are!" his partner reacted indignantly and with good reason. Moments like these called for strategy, not some whim-prone decision, made based purely on emotion rather than logic.

"Shockingly, I agree with Bonnet. Don't be a fucking hero, Edward!" Izzy could not tell if the nausea he was desperately trying to ignore was from the rocking of the ship or the fact he had a actually concured with Stede fucking Bonnet. Ed's reaction did not surprise the First Hand, he had played witness to his Captain's saviour complex on more than one occasion. Hell, him saving Bonnet after the twat had been stabbed, was definitely motivated by the same instinct, that drove him towards making such a rash decision now.

Of course, the two mens' protests fell upon deaf ears. Ed had made up his mind. This was not his first man overboard- probably would not be the last either- and he was co-captain, after all. Why should he not sacrifice himself for the life of his crew? "Buttons, take over from me!" he instructed, leaving his place at the wheel.

"Aye, aye, Captain, sir!"

Oh no, you don't, Stede cursed, refusing to let the great love of his life be so reckless. He could sense the guilt radiating off of Ed from a mile off. "Buttons, stay at your station." he barked, leaving no room for arguments from the mystic shipmate.

"Yes, Captain."

But why could Stede not see that he needed to do this? Ed thought, immediately picturing Lucius's face, when they told him the news that Pete was dead, that he had drowned because there were not enough hands on deck. The next question would be, where was everyone? And then, all eyes would immediately be directed towards Ed. It was his fault. It was always his fucking fault! If half the crew weren't so traumatised by his previous behaviour, then Pete..."No, Buttons-"

"I'll go."

And just like that, the bickering between the two lovers ceased in an instant. Thise two words echoed louder than any resounding crash of thunder. In that moment, Ed thought he felt his entire world shift off of it's axis. "Iz-"

While it was true that the two men had once shared a conplicated relationship that could not be conventionally defined, there was no denying that either had love for the other. It might not have been the same kind that Ed shared with Stede but it was present all the same. It was this exact love that fuelled Izzy's decision to go in place of his Captain. "Crew needs you, Edward. It's too risky."

Without Ed aboard the ship, the responsibility would fall upon Stede and Izzy's shoulders. With those kinds of odds, the crew of the Revenge would definitely be fucked. No one knew how to navigate a storm quite like Blackbeard and live to tell the tale.

Plus, as much as he hated to admit it, should anything happen to Ed, fucking Bonnet would be inconsolable. The twat had already experienced the stages of grief when Ed went to the gravy basket the first time around. No man should not have to go through that again so soon, even if it was the so called Gentleman Pirate.

Not that Izzy was doing this just for the benefit of his useless co-captain. With Ed still manning the ship, the crew would have a slightly higher chance of survival. You woukd have a chance of survival. If Izzy could not give you the kind of love and adoration you so deserved, then he would give you the opportunity to live and find that kind of companionship with someone worthy of your affections.

"Hello, is someone getting in the fecking boat or not, you've got a man drowning here, for fucks sake!" Wee John yelled, as the heaven's poured down upon them in a fit of unrestrained fury. It was getting increasingly more and more difficult to see the tumultuous waves below through the onslaught of rain.

"I am!" the First Mate returned the call, hellbent on remaining defiant until the end. "Say the order, Edward. Please. Don't fight me on this." he all but begged.

Oh, how Ed wanted to tell Izzy to 'fuck off', to curse the silver-haired pirate until his voice ran hoarse and even after that, curse him some more. How dare the First Mate be the voice of reason! How dare he...how dare he be right. "Go. Get on that fucking boat but you listen to me, First Mate Israel fucking Hands," if Izzy did not know better, he would have assumed Ed grabbing him by the lapels of his waistcoat, was a genuine threatening act but, that was just it, he did know better. He could see the fear reflected back at him in those terrified brown eyes. "I want you back on this boat in one piece, understood?" he hissed but there was no venom in his demands.

"Understood, Captain." he nodded before he was roughly pushed away.

The thudding sound of the door to the hold opening was completely lost amongst the cacophony of the surrounding chaos. It was only when Lucius called out to his Captain, that Stede noticed in horror, that the Scribe had abandoned his post. "Captain Bonnet!"

No, no, no! The blonde thought, abandoning Ed and Izzy's side, in favour of meeting the crewmate half way across the decking. The Scribe could not be up here! Not now! What if he were to notice Pete's missing presence or hear news about a man overboard, then what? Hysterics would ensue and that was the last thing the already struggling crew needed. Bless the young man's heart, he would be justified in his reaction but there was already so much going on, that needed everyone's full, uninterrupted attention. "Lucius, get back inside, now! It's too dangerous out here!"

"We need Roach, Captain! It's-"

With Stede dealing with the Scribe, the rest of the crew quickly got the fishing boat ready for it's latest voyage it the treacherous unknown. "Lower him down, lads!" the descent had begun. With one final nod of acknowledgement to his captain, Izzy readied himself of the recovery mission ahead. "Easy now!"

"Lucius, please. I need you to go back to the rec room. I can't risk..." but the unexpected sight of crimson perturbed the conscientious pirate, who was only wanting to protect Lucius's mental state in that moment. All thoughts of Pete beliw the waves, Izzy in that fragile fishing boat upon the turbulent waters, even the image of Ed willing to sacrifice his safety only moments ago, completely faded when Stede finally took in the Scribe's dishevelled state. The meaning behind the words finally fell into place. One of his crew was hurt. Badly enough that they needed the assistance of the cook/medic. "Who's blood is that?" the Captain's mind was already mentally ticking off names of those still below deck.

Jim, Archie, Oluwande, (y/n), Frenchie...

"There's been an accident in the storage area." was all that Lucius could managed to croak out. Fuck, there was so much blood and no matter what they did, it just kept spilling upon the wooden floors. The Scribe had slipped in it twice just trying to scramble towards the nearest exit. No doubt the quantity would have doubled by the time he actually managed to retrieve help.

There was no way the deck crew could spare a man, especially not with two already in the water. They needed all the help they could get, Stede rationalised. Roach woukd have to remain where he was, which coukd only have meant..."Ed!" the blonde called to his partner, not wishing to distract him for too long. The long-haired pirate momentarily tore his gaze away from the form of his First Mate, concerned that there was more trouble afoot upon the ship. Though his worry was well-placed, Stede did not want to add any more stress to the already life or death situation. "Stay up here with Buttons! There's something I need to check!" he instructed as vaguely as possible, hoping Ed would not question him too much.

Already, Blackbeard's suspiscions were heightened, glancing between the struggle taking place in the water and...wait, was that blood? He stood up in an instant, insticts screaming at him to not abandon his post and yet, how could he not? Someone else was hurt. He was no medic by any means but...but..."What's happened?!" he called back, booming voice nearly getting lost in another flare of thunder and lightning.

Who else was downstairs? He panicked, struggling to remember everyone's names. He was so much better with faces. Right, Archie, Lucius- no, Lucius was standing next to Stede. Swede? No, he was...where was he? Right, right repairing the mast rigging. Who did that leave?

As soon as Ed took that step forward, Stede knew he had to quickly intervene and implore his partner to remain at his post. The outside crew needed an adept leader, who knew how to deal with the sea's rage. Whatever was going on below deck, Stede was more than assured that he could handle it. Yes, he was no medic but he had been run through enough times to know how to perform a basic suture. "Just trust me, please?!"

And how could Ed disrgard sych a request, especially when Stede looked at him like that? That expression that begged him to implicitly trust the man he loved and ask questions later. "Always!"

And he did. He well and truly did. Ed would always trust Stede with every fibre of his being. Now and forever.

With the situation up top now being supervised by Ed, Stede returned his attention to the terrified young man. The Captain was sure the trembling was not just due to the icy wind and sheets of cool rain that pelted them from every direction. He was scared and that told Stede everything he needed to expect from the dilemma in the storage room. "Show me." he murmured, already leading Lucius towards the stairs.

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A/N: Oh no! Someone below deck has been gravely injured, I wonder who it could be...I guess you'll just have to wait until Chapter 5 to find out. See you soon!

P.S. I know I said they were going to share a bed. I just didn't say when exactly that would happen. Maybe keep an eye out for Chapter 6.

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