mandiemon3

[mandiemon3]

i actually really like that the wigs get longer throughout the seasons, it's so subtle but it does signify that months have passed. i want to kiss the costume makers for this

[mandiemon3]

nods solemnly

[mandiemon3]

The Best Revenge is Living Well- Chapter 33

The crew had the decency not to pester the couple too much about their night when they finally dragged themselves up on deck to join them, though enough sly looks and whispers were exchanged that it was clear that they each had their theories about why the pair seemed so tired and sore despite having abundant time to sleep in.

Mo tugged absentmindedly at the collar of their shirt, hoping to minimize the visibility of the bruising their fiancé had left behind the night behind, though they could guess from Izzy’s barely suppressed smirk of self-satisfaction and the pride in the way he held himself, his chin raised as he looked over the ship, that their efforts were in vain.  

The crew were in high spirits, bustling about with a level of enthusiasm rare even for the cheery pirates of the Revenge. It didn’t take long for Mo to flag down Archie as she crossed the deck, the woman giving them a wide grin when they asked what they had missed, watching with a confused frown as Frenchie all but skipped across the deck.

Archie clapped their shoulder, pulling them into a firm one-armed hug. “What happened,” she explained happily, “is that we’re gettin’ a fuckin’ party!” She released them, laughing as they stumbled for a moment, chuckling weakly even as they looked at her with confusion. “It’s Calypso’s birthday, man!” she continued. “We’re having a big party, to celebrate!”

Mo frowned. “Calypso’s birthday?” they asked slowly.

Archie grinned wildly, her head bobbing as she nodded. “You heard me,” she teased, prodding them gently in the ribs with her elbow. “Good ol’ Calypso.” She frowned, looking at them intently, her dark eyes wide with anticipation. “It’d be rude of us not to celebrate her birthday, wouldn’t it?” Mo only stared at her, still frozen in their confusion.

“Especially when we have Captain’s permission to get some booze,” she continued, her tone slowed. “We can really make a day of it.” She watched them carefully, eager to see if they picked up on her meaning.

“Ohhhh,” Mo said after a moment, nodding slowly as they began to put together the pieces. A sudden celebration, with the promise of free booze? Shenanigans were afoot. “Calypso’s birthday,” they repeated, nodding with their friend as she chuckled, beaming from ear to ear. “Of course. How could I forget?”

Archie chuckled. “Looks like you need a reminder of our sacred saint, don’t you?” she teased. “Good thing it’s the goddess’ birthday, or who knows what could have become of you.”

Mo laughed. “Yeah,” they agreed sarcastically. “It’d sure be a shame for someone as religious as me to miss out on such a sacred occasion.”

Archie grinned, flashing them a wink. “There ya go, good man.” She clapped their shoulder as she began to walk away. “Make sure to plan an outfit!” she called, walking backwards as she moved to join her partners. “It’s gonna be a fuckin’ rager! Whoo!”

Mo laughed as their friend wrapped her arms around Oluwande, swaying the larger man from side to side in her excitement. Olu giggled, playing along with the good-natured embrace, while Jim grinned, leaning on the rigging they had just finished tying, watching their silly companions with an easy look of content on their face, once so marred by distrust. It hadn’t been too long ago that they’d have stood off to the side, hiding away from the rest of the crew, hiding away behind a scowl as much they did their wide brimmed hat.

Mo shook their head fondly as they ducked their head through the doorway leading into the underbelly of the ship, off to fetch breakfast for themselves and their partner. It would be a good day on the Revenge, it seemed, full of celebration and love, even if no one knew about two of the crew’s secret engagement.

The crew sailed happily that day, making much smoother progress than usual as they made their way to the nearest harbor for supplies. Izzy noted this aloud as he sipped his coffee, his usual cover of annoyance betrayed by his small huff of laughter as his companions bustled around him, grinning and talking amongst themselves as they worked, each sharing what they had planned for the celebration they were to hold that night.

Mo was surprised to find Edward approach them as they swabbed the deck, drawing them out of their thoughts of decorations they could help Wee John and Roach whip up as a shadow fell over their boots. They glanced up, surprised to find the tall man standing before them, even more so when they noticed Stede was nowhere nearby. They kept swabbing, waiting for him to say something.

Edward inched slightly closer, seeming to want to be in their direct line of vision before speaking. He had begun to adjust to being around the full crew again, slowly realizing that he couldn’t rush anyone’s healing, even as tensions eased. Day by day, he became more of a friend and genuine member of the crew than a man on probation. Still, he found it hard to be alone with Mo, picking up on their hesitance to trust him, and finding it hard to fault them for it.

Mo propped their mop up in their bucket, leaning against the wooden handle of it to see what their captain’s partner could want.

“Hey,” they greeted carefully. Their fear of the man had slowly subsided, but they still didn’t know how to act around him, either as an individual or the man in a relationship with the person they considered both captain and friend. Certainly not as their fiancé’s oldest friend turned tormentor, now on the path to redemption.

“Hey,” he responded, leaning against the railing of the ship next to them. He gave them a hesitant smile, looking about as dangerous as a kitten.

“Can I…help you?” Mo asked after a moment. They frowned, clearing their throat as they heard themselves. “Sorry,” they corrected guiltily. “That-that sounded rude. I didn’t mean it like that, I was just wondering if there was something you wanted to talk about. Didn’t mean to sound like a dick.”

Edward laughed. “Didn’t sound like a dick.” He smiled again, more natural and open than before. “Don’t mean to interrupt your work,” he said apologetically, gesturing towards their bucket of dirty mop water. “Though I reckon Iz is more likely to give you a break than anyone else, even if you did fuck it up.”

Mo grinned, nodding their agreement. “I should hope so,” they joked. “What kind of partner would he be if he wasn’t?”  They laughed, shrugging halfheartedly. “Still a damn good one,” they answered for him, their voice warm with fondness. “Better than I ever thought I’d find.”

Edward smiled, his expression soft as he leaned against the railing, watching his companion as they began to ramble. His eyes flicked across their face, studying them peacefully. It took them a moment to realize the way he looked at them, examining them closely.

“Whatcha looking at, Ed?” they asked, feeling the beginnings of anxiety pool in their gut. Did they do something wrong?

Edward only smiled, chuckling softly. “Nothing,” he said calmly. “Just, y’know, it’s nice.” He shrugged casually. “Seeing you talk about Izzy like this,” he explained, seeing their confused expression. “Poor guy’s never had this much attention before, I don’t think.” He frowned, his eyes growing distant, his face darkening with guilt. “Certainly didn’t from me, anyway.” He shook his head, wiping away his frown as he reminded himself where he was.

“You do well by him,” he continued. “Take care of him, treat him with respect, make sure he doesn’t push himself too hard.” He ducked his head as he gave a short laugh, smiling wryly. “Believe me, I know how hard it is to get him to take a break,” he said, his voice turned playful.

“I’m glad he found you,” he said after a moment’s silence. All indication of joking was gone, replaced by enough earnestness to make Mo’s heart pound in their chest. “Had my moments when I wasn’t thrilled, I’ll be the first to admit, but he needs you now, and he deserves someone like you, who’ll take care of him.”

Mo felt themselves frown, unable to hide their confusion.

“What is this, Ed?” they asked slowly, wishing they didn’t sound as suspicious as they did. They huffed a weak laugh, barely more than a breath of air. “Are you…giving me your blessing?” They felt stupid even asking such a silly question, expecting the former captain to laugh and wave off the ridiculous notion.

Ed chuckled, but his eyes never faltered. “Yeah,” he said, shrugging as he smiled down at them. “Guess I am. Just…do right by him,” he asked sincerely. “He deserves it, after all of this.” He sighed heavily, his eyes growing dark with guilt as he remembered everything the two had been through together. “After what I put him through.���

Mo nodded, holding his gaze seriously even when he smiled softly as them, reaching out to ruffle their hair.

“You’re a good one.”

Mo watched as he walked away, joining Stede where he stood at the bow of the ship, talking to Roach and Fang.

Stede’s face lit up when he saw Ed, an easy smile spreading across his face as he turned to greet the man. Maybe Edward was closer to being saved than they’d originally thought, Mo admitted to themselves. For once, they were happy to be wrong.

They couldn’t help but wonder if the tall man suspected anything about their secret engagement. No one could have known, they’d both been careful enough to ensure that, but maybe the brilliant tactician still had a few more tricks up his sleeve.

Mo shook their head, jolting themselves out of their thoughts. It didn’t matter if Edward suspected anything, or even knew. He was in favor, it seemed. As long as he didn’t let anything slip to the rest of the crew, Izzy would get his wish of having some time to themselves before everyone knew. And they had a feeling Edward wouldn’t go exposing Izzy’s secrets, not after everything else he’d put the man through.

The crew could barely wait until nightfall to start their celebration. Everyone helped to decorate the deck, the taller pirates hanging up streamers and homemade flags, while those too short to reach decorated their space with flowers they’d been lucky enough to pick up from a merchant during their brief stop for supplies. Even the captains had joined in, complimenting their friends’ handiwork and offering advice on what they each thought would look best. Stede didn’t even protest when Archie hauled his bathtub up to the main deck with Fang’s help, filling the large tub with the rum they had bought that day.

Once the stage had been set, the rowdy bunch of misfits had turned their attention to themselves, each eager to look their best for the event they had worked so hard for. Jim had drawn a fine mustache on their upper lip, changing their usual hair style for the night and adorning their neck with a frilly collar they had found hidden away with some scraps of fabric. They had offered to help Mo with a look once their own was complete, an offer they waved off. If they were going to celebrate with their odd little family, they wanted to look and feel like themselves. Jim understood, quickly dropping the subject, adding cheekily that they didn’t need any makeup anyway, not with the eyes Izzy made at them.

In the end, Mo settled on a light pink shirt, borrowed from their captain. It was oversized on them, billowy in a comfortable way once they tied the loose fabric around their wrists, keeping the cuffs from slipping over their hands entirely. Over top of it, they wore their usual green vest, with a small orange flower tucked into a buttonhole. When they showed their end result to their friends, they were welcomed by a round of applause and whooping cheers. Before their blush had enough time to fade, Frenchie had already appeared before them, claiming they needed a finishing touch as he laid a crown of woven flowers upon their head.

“There you are dearie,” he said, smiling warmly as he adjusted his work. “Right as rain. Izzy won’t know what hit him.” He gave them a wink, grinning as they hugged him, burying their giggling face in his chest.

Once the sun had set, the pirates gathered on deck. Mo stood near the quarterdeck, leaning back against the railing of the steps by Frenchie’s side as they waited, watching for their sea goddess Calypso to make her grand reveal. Fang had told them earlier on, his gleeful voice lowered to a hush, of Wee John’s plan. The large man had spent all day in his room, stitching away at what they could only imagine would be a glamorous outfit after all of his work.

When Calypso did make her reveal, stepping out of the shadows of the ship as she addressed the crew, her dress shimmering as she moved and her striking makeup catching everyone’s eye, Mo’s jaw dropped. She looked every bit the goddess she was named after, and Mo felt giddy laughter bubbling up in their chest, the only way their body knew how to express the joy they felt, surrounded by the family they had chosen. Frenchie grinned beside them, beginning to pluck a few notes out on his lute.

Mo had only just began to adjust to their friend’s glamorous transformation when they were faced with a second shock. Their breath caught in their throat as Izzy stepped out of the shadows of the ship, looking different for the first time that they’d known him. He sang a few notes awkwardly, gesturing at Frenchie for him to continue as Fang helped stabilize him when he stumbled. Frenchie faltered for a moment, but was happy to oblige, quickly adjusting to follow the first mate’s tune as he made his way to the center of the deck. His face was painted with a fine white powder, with delicate eyebrows drawn on his handsome face and a rosy blush coloring his cheeks. His lips were painted a striking shade of red, and his small tattoo had been covered up, a replica drawn on lower on his face, reminiscent of a noble woman’s beauty mark. His hair, which had so lovingly been cut by Mo that morning, was slicked back, but with more volume than usual, and a single rose adorned his leather vest, held in place by a beautiful golden brooch.

Mo couldn’t help but grin as their partner began to sing, his nervous eyes lowered to the deck, even as his beautiful voice carried across the ship. They saw their friends glance their way out of the corner of their vision, but they couldn’t tear their eyes off the man before them, so beautifully done up and absolutely radiant. It struck them, not for the first time, just how lucky they were to have someone like him in their life, let alone one who loved them the way he did. They could feel their eyes begin to prickle and they sniffled, chuckling weakly as they watched him, feeling their heart glow with a warm pride.

Slowly, Izzy’s confidence began to grow, hesitantly looking up from the deck as he sang. He seemed to find strength in the crew’s reactions, all warm smiles and stares of admiration. His voice grew as his friends began to urge him on, nodding encouragement and lifting a glass to their siren. He drew on their support, singing louder and more confidently, the hesitant tension in his shoulders and his jaw melting away as the pirates who claimed him as family began to sway, holding onto each other in small groups.

Mo watched as their beloved sang his once-nearly-blackened heart out, their wide grin growing even larger when he smiled at them, looking more like himself than they’d ever seen outside of their cabin. They watched as he turned, making his way slowly across the deck to Wee John, his unicorn leg thumping on the wooden deck as he moved. He took the larger man’s hand in his own and pressed a gentle kiss to his knuckles, smiling with a soft sweetness most of the crew had yet to see.

Mo felt that their heart could melt, with their friends spinning around them, dancing to the sweet song their lover sang, everyone smiling and laughing. They felt giddier still when Izzy turned to them, unable to help the happy prickling in their eyes at how content he looked, singing his heart out for his crew, finally trusting them enough to fully be himself. A weight seemed to be lifted off his shoulders, for the first time dropping his public image of the grizzled first mate, revealing the soft and gentle man the façade had protected for so many years, the one who wanted to have fun, surrounded by his friends and family who would sing along with him, grinning widely and never batting an eye at his glamorous makeup. This was the crew who had supported him, even when he had done his best to drive them away, rebuilding him (quite literally) into a stronger man, one unafraid of his vulnerability, allowing him to rely on those who had always relied on him.

Mo’s chest ached with love when their partner beckoned them to come closer. They smiled as they stepped closer, happily accepting his outstretched hand, letting him raise it above their head, guiding them into a twirl before catching them. He held them as they giggled, pressed against his chest as he sang, unable to tear their sparkling eyes off the man they were so lucky to find.

If this was what life could be like, with Izzy to hold and protect, surrounded by their chosen family on a ship they all loved, all the strife they had faced would be worth it. They rested their cheek on Izzy’s chest, feeling the comforting vibration of his voice as he held them, swaying slightly to the slow beat of the song.

Suddenly, the moment was ruined. A cannon shot rang through the air, and the crew fell silent as a haunting song replaced Izzy’s beautiful voice. Izzy’s grip on Mo tightened, moving as quickly as he could without toppling over as he pulled them to the side, each hunched over to avoid being caught in crossfire. They watched, each tense as Mo clung to Izzy’s arm, as a man stepped out of the shadows of the ship, his suit sparkling like moonlight. If not for the sinister look on his face, his eyes cold and detached as he looked over the ship, he might have been mistaken for an angel.

The man stalked across the ship like a shark, moving slowly, almost languidly. He took in the decorations the pirates had poured their hearts into with a small, disappointed frown. Despite their fear, Mo could feel the cold pulse of anger that he dared to invade their space, turning their home, defined by safety and unconditional love, into a place of fear and judgment. He flicked a decorative flag Jim had designed hours before, giggling with Roach as they stitched together small bits of fabric to make something beautiful, the disdain he felt clear from across the ship. The unease was palpable, the partygoers frantically holding onto each other as shots continued to ring out, each too preoccupied with protecting each other to draw their weapons.

The crew of the Revenge was quickly overwhelmed, their surprise stunning them as pirates began to pour over the side of the ship. A few attempted to fight back, Jim drawing their knife when someone seized Oluwande’s arm and began to drag him away from them, but they were soon forced to surrender their weapons. The crew let themselves be pulled apart, having no choice but to sit back as their captors bound their wrists and tied them to the ship, searching them over to remove any hidden weapons. Mo growled in their throat when the woman who had dragged them away from Izzy found the knife they kept stashed away in their boot. She sighed wearily as she passed the knife onto her crewmate, tiredly turning a rope over in her hands before dragging Mo away to be tied up.

The process of being tied and bound wasn’t as bad as it could have been, comparatively speaking. While some crews would take great joy in roughing up their captives, cracking skulls together or “accidentally” stepping on fingers, this crew seemed to just be going through the motions. They moved like reanimated corpses, all the life drained from them as they dragged their charges across the deck and bound their hands. Even when some tried to fight back, they were only shoved back down, their invaders clearly finding no joy in the act.

One man, Mo was soon to find out, did not have that problem.

“Oy, look what we have here!”

Mo’s eyes snapped up as they heard the voice, watching with a gaze so intense they were half afraid that their eyes would burn out of their skull as a tall man stood before Izzy. He chuckled as he looked down at the bound man, his eyes fixed on the first mate’s prosthetic leg, the gold paint glinting in the moonlight.

“What kinda leg it that?” he asked, still laughing. He had an obnoxious laugh, a boisterous noise of condescension.

Mo could barely feel their hands ball into fists, their muscles tensing as a cold wave of protective fury washed over them. Their heartbeat pounded in their veins, their breathing growing quick and shallow as their eyes narrowed. If he dared lay a hand on Izzy, there would be hell to pay.

Izzy seemed much less affected, or at the very least, better at hiding it. He shrugged nonchalantly, as if he was answering another of Black Pete’s pestering questions, giving no indication that he was worried about their impending torture.

“Better lookin’ than yours,” he drawled, meeting the pirate’s gaze unwaveringly.

The man scoffed, grinning as he shared an incredulous glance with a member of his crew.

“You think so?” he asked lowly, leaning down to meet the first mate’s unbothered gaze. “Least mine don’t have hooves.” He smirked smugly, tapping the hoof of Izzy’s carefully crafted unicorn hoof. He chuckled when Izzy’s eyes narrowed, wincing almost imperceptibly at the pain that shot up his leg from the jolt.

Mo felt like their blood was boiling, coursing like fire through their veins. Before they knew it, they were snarling at the man, their mind clouded by a terrified rage, their only coherent thought being the need to get that man away from their partner.

“You get your fucking hands off him!”

Izzy’s gaze darted towards them, glaring with a fury they’d only seen once before, but it was too late. The man stood up to his full height, walking closer to where Mo sat uncomfortably, their wrists tied to the railing as their legs dangled down between the spindles. He stepped uncomfortably close, holding onto one of the spindles as he casually leaned closer, looking up at them with a humorous look on his face. Oh, how they wanted to slap it off of him.

“Oh yeah?” he asked, tauntingly. “And what are you going to do, little one? You’re as tied up as the rest of your buddies.” He was infuriatingly close. Just a few inches more and they’d be able to bite him. Instead, they chose an easier tactic.

Mo’s eyes narrowed, and they shot their leg out, knocking the man in the groin before he had time to block. They laughed as he doubled over in pain, clutching the railing to keep from falling over, one hand cradling his crotch. The crew of the Revenge let out a sympathetic groan, chuckling to themselves as he winced.

“You forgot my legs,” they gloated, smirking. The man growled, glaring at them with a red face as he straightened up, still grimacing. He had just lunged for them, his hand closing tightly over their throat, when Izzy shouted, his intense gaze fixed on the pair.

“Alright!”

The man paused for a moment, watching Mo choke, struggling to gasp for air, before slowly loosening his grip. He turned as they coughed, fighting to draw in air, spots beginning to dance across their vision.

Izzy looked between the two, a vaguely disappointed look on his face. “Pack it in, will you?” He turned his attention to the man, a faint smirk tugging at his lips. “Is this your plan?” he asked, his level voice dripping with condescension. “Just tie us up, yell at us?” A sly grin crept across his face. “Or are we in for something more fun?” he asked, his husky voice almost a drawl.

A woman beside Izzy snorted. “More fun?” she repeated, her brows raised incredulously. “Guess if you call torture fun, then yeah, man, you’ll have a great time.”

Izzy grinned lazily. “Good,” he responded. He cleared his throat, meeting the woman’s eyes easily as he continued. “But you know, whatever you do, it’s just gonna turn me on.”

She seemed uninterested, focused on securing the knots that held the first mate in place. “That right?” Izzy nodded, his gold eyeshadow catching the lantern light as he moved, still grinning smugly. She sighed wearily. “Fuck you.”

Mo finally began to catch their breath, their throat still burning like fire from being choked so forcefully. They blinked hard, forcing their vision to come back into focus as their heart slowed. They huffed a small laugh, the air burning their bruising throat, when they noticed Roach staring at them, a questioning look on his face as he watched them. He nodded towards Izzy before raising his eyebrows, staring at them intently, his question clear. Mo rolled their eyes, clearing their aching throat and grimacing at the pain it caused before reluctantly nodding. They couldn’t help but smile weakly at the mischievous gleam in their friend’s eye as he grinned, seeming very pleased with their answer.

Their eyes moved, turning to check on their partner. He subtly glanced their way, his eyebrows pinched together slightly, though he kept the rest of his face neutral. To one not as accustomed to his subdued mannerisms, it would be easy to miss the concern in his dark eyes, sweeping over them quickly, searching for any indication that they were hurt. They gave him a small nod, hoping he could tell that they were okay. They couldn’t help but feel guilty for worrying him, knowing he’d rather they stay silent, even if he was being ridiculed for the leg the crew had crafted so thoughtfully just for him. He’d rather they bite their tongue even if he was shot, more willing to take the blow than risk them putting themselves in harm’s way in defense of him.

Izzy exhaled a small sigh as he turned away, watching as their invaders roughly tied their captain to the mast.

Tensions grew among Lowe’s crew, finally mounting to a crescendo when the vile captain expressed nothing but disdain and annoyance when Stede captured one of his crew, holding a blade to her throat. It took mere moments after that for the crew to finally realize that Ned Lowe, famed pirate that he was, was beneath them. They turned on their abusive leader, spurred along by Stede’s usual respectful cheeriness, showing the first bit of enthusiasm the crew of the Revenge had seen from them that night.

Hellcat Maggie, the woman who had the most rage against Lowe after his disregard for her near-death experience, was presumed the new leader of the pirates, and wasted no time in ordering the release of their captives.

Mo was quick to take their place by Izzy’s side when the rope that held them were loosened enough for them to slip out. They stood by him as his ropes were undone, Frenchie placing a comforting hand on their shoulder as they looked over their partner, searching intently for any sign that he’d been hurt more than he’d let on.

Izzy did his best to swat them away once his hands were free, insisting that he was fine. Mo fell back after a moment, not wanting to overstep in front of their captors-turned-allies and make him uncomfortable. They realized they were wrong about his intentions when he quickly clambered to his feet, eager to cease their fussing so he could look over their throat, his face serious as he searched for any lingering marks that could be cause for concern.

“I’m fine, Izzy,” Mo assured him, giving their partner a small smile as his fingers grazed over the dark bruises covering their neck. “Think most of those were already there, and not from that guy.” They grinned when Izzy rolled his eyes, exhaling a short laugh. It was good to hear him laugh again. They wouldn’t admit it out loud, but there was a moment when they were scared that this could be the end of their story together, cut short before it could ever truly begin.

“You stupid twat,” Izzy chastised, his dark eyes soft as he looked at them. “Why’d you have to get yourself in trouble like that?” Mo only shrugged, frowning softly. “Did you really expect anything different?” Izzy laughed, shaking his head in exasperation. “Guess not.” He pulled them closer, kissing their temple. “Love you anyway,” he said quietly, his warm breath fanning over their forehead. “Even if you are a fuckin’ idiot.”

They grinned, looking up at him, with his warm eyes and beautiful makeup. “Good,” they said, their cheerful spirit returning to them. “Because I’m probably always going to be an idiot when you’re in danger.”

Izzy only hummed. He wrapped his arm around their shoulders, keeping them close as they watched the last of their friends be freed from their bonds. The crew gathered amongst themselves, checking in on their loved ones as they rubbed their sore spots the rope had rubbed on their wrists and the places they had each been tortured. Everyone had faired alright, their compassionate captain taking the brunt of Lowe’s anger, but it was still a relief for the happy bunch to look over each other, searching for anything that could require medical attention.

Mo watched as Hellcat Maggie tied up her former captain, taking great care to bind his wrists extra tightly and securely. She didn’t waste time with delicateness, tugging the rope roughly, a wide smile on her fierce face, shared by her crew mates that held the sparkly bastard still. He made no attempt to escape, a remarkably calm expression on his face. Even facing possible death, he seemed to think himself above it all, his eyes sweeping lazily over the ship and the crew that betrayed him.

Mo was dragged out of their thoughts when someone stepped into their line of vision. They blinked hard, taking a moment to understand that the man standing before them was the same who had choked them, watching with a violent pleasure as they had gasped to breathe. Izzy pulled them slightly closer, their heart beating faster despite the visible change in the man. His confident demeanor had disappeared now that their situation had changed, and he toyed with his fingers, his nervous gaze lowered as he spoke.

“Hi. Um…just, just wanted to say sorry…‘bout that,” he said awkwardly, his voice sheepish and quiet as he gestured to his throat. “Just doin’ the job, y’know?”

Mo kept their grip on Izzy’s wrist, holding onto him as he kept his protective arm around their shoulders. They found comfort in his presence, knowing that he would always have their back. They nodded hesitantly at the man, accepting his apology.

“No worries,” they said quietly. A small smile flickered across their face, and they chuckled. “Think I still faired better than you.”

The man huffed a small laugh, his brows pinching as he remembered the pain that had shot through him as their boot had made contact with his most vulnerable area. “Suppose you might’ve. Guess we’re square then?” He held out a hand, looking at them with a hopeful nervousness. He looked nothing like the fearsome man he had been not more than half an hour before.

Mo smiled, releasing Izzy’s wrist and grasping the man’s hand firmly, giving him a solid shake. “Square,” they affirmed. “And for what it’s worth, I’m sorry too. Thought this one was at risk,” they glanced at Izzy where he stood beside them, his arm still wrapped around them, his warmth a comfortable presence against them. His dark eyes softened as they found his partner’s. “Couldn’t let that happen.”

The man nodded slowly, a small smile working its way onto his face. “I get that. Can’t blame you for it. I’d have done the same if my guy was at risk.” He pointed out a man who stood across the deck, busying himself with undoing the ropes tying Ed to the ship’s railing. He leaned against the railing as he finished, glancing up and frowning as he noticed he was being watched, winding the rope back into a neat bundle as Ed stretched, groaning and grimacing as he moved. The man gave an uncertain wave, one which his partner and Mo both returned.

Izzy cleared his throat. “Glad things didn’t have to get bloody,” he said, turning back to the man before them. “If you’d have hurt them, we wouldn’t have been so lucky.” His voice was calm, speaking as if it were a matter of fact, something the man should know if their conversation were to continue.

The man smiled, tight-lipped as he nodded. “Right. Yeah, again, sorry ‘bout that.” His eyes flicked between Mo and Izzy, not seeming to know who he needed to convince more.

“Oh,” he said suddenly, clasping his hands together as he remembered something. “And sorry for the stuff with your leg too.” He grimaced, his eyes clouded with guilt. “Really, it’s actually pretty cool. Just…well, y’know…just never really seen a leg like that before.” Izzy snorted, Mo grinning as they ducked their face against his shoulder. “’Course you haven’t,” he said, almost indignant at the idea of someone sharing his lovingly crafted leg. “It’s one of a kind.”

Mo lifted their head, grinning up at their partner as he practically glowed with pride. They nudged him gently. “Just like you, Iz.”

He rolled his eyes, huffing in the way he always did when he didn’t want to let others see how much he loved their praise. Even with his weak act, he couldn’t help but pull them ever so closer, hugging them to his chest.

“Quiet, you.”

Mo grinned, their heart fluttering giddily as they saw the glint of pride in his soft eyes.

“Well, I’ve said my piece now,” the tall man said awkwardly. “Best get back to work.”

Izzy nodded, dismissing him as he would the crew of the Revenge.

“That went well,” Mo noted, glancing up at their partner as the man strode off, rejoining his crew as they untied their captives. “You got a new admirer and everything.” Izzy huffed a short laugh, shaking his head in exaggerated exasperation.

“Can’t say I blame him though,” they continued, ignoring their partner’s reaction. “I mean, look at you, Iz.” They whistled, breaking into a grin when Izzy laughed. How could they not, when he grinned so broadly, his eyes twinkling as his chest heaved, that perfect laugh lighting him up almost as much as his singing. Even with his makeup, his was so wonderfully him.

Mo cupped his cheek, their heart aching as they looked at the man before them. “I love you, Israel,” they said quietly.

Izzy beamed, leaning down to press a kiss to their forehead. “Love you too. Even if you are ridiculous.”

Someone cleared their throat, and the happy couple tore their eyes off each other, leaning against each other as they looked around to find the one who interrupted them.

A few feet away stood Roach, rubbing the red marks on his wrists, staring at the shorter man with the crazed look in his eye that always meant trouble.

“Is it true Izzy?” he asked, barely able to contain the glee in his voice.

“Is what true?” the first mate drawled. Roach’s grin only grew. Any larger and it’d split his face wide open.

“The effect,” he said delicately, nodding towards the ropes that once bound Izzy’s wrists, almost gloating as he provoked his grumpy companion. “Will you be able to make it through the night, or will we be saying goodnight to you two now?”

Izzy huffed, Mo chuckling as they leaned into his shoulder.

“Why, you interested in joining?” he shot back, meeting the cook’s eye levelly. He seemed to dare him to continue, to risk losing at his own game of quips.

Roach squinted, seeming to briefly consider his odds. His mischievous eyes darted over Izzy, searching for any sign of weakness, any chink in his armor to prod at, before shrugging.

“Nah,” he said casually. “The night is young. And besides,” he giggled, his fingertips tapping against each other with unbridled glee, “Wee John and I-pardon, Calypso and I have a special surprise we’ve cooked up, just for tonight. Try to last until the big finish, if you’re not off having your own.” He winked, giving them a wicked grin before walking off, tapping Olu’s shoulder, and beckoning him, Jim, and Archie to follow him off to the side.

“What do you want to bet he’s spreading more rumors?” Izzy asked dryly, watching his friends huddled up, Archie glancing back at him with not nearly as much subtly as she’d hoped for, her mouth wide open in a scandalized grin.

Mo hummed, holding onto the hand still slung over their shoulder. “Does it count as a rumor if it’s true?” They looked up at their partner, pleased to see a small smile on his face.

“They have no way of knowing that,” he pointed out.

They made a face. “Maybe not the way I do,” they agreed, “but you’re not exactly subtle, my love.

Izzy frowned, his face scrunching up with confusion, looking at them for an explanation. Mo grinned, happy to help.

“Remember how Roach said your eyes betray you?” He nodded stiffly.

“Well,” they said carefully, “let’s just say it’s not just your eyes that are revealing.”

A dark red rushed up to his face, coloring the exposed skin of his ears and neck. He sputtered for words, choking on them when he tried to speak.

Mo couldn’t help but laugh, seeing the usually composed man so out of sorts. They tucked a strand of hair that had come loose from his carefully coiffed hairstyle behind his ear, feeling the heat radiating from his cheek as their thumb brushed over it.

“That’s not even what I meant,” they said, unable to suppress their smug enjoyment of the mess they’d made of him. “Just meant that you’re not always as hard to read as you’d like, Iz.” They smirked. “I remember the first time I saw you fight. Figured then that you probably had more of an interest in it than the usual sportsmanship.” Izzy ducked his head, suddenly finding eye contact unbearable.

“Like you’re a saint,” he grumbled under his breath, so quiet they almost missed it.

Mo grinned. “I’m not,” they said easily. “Been a lot of things in my time, but never a saint.” They lightly punched his shoulder, tapping their knuckles against him gently enough not to knock him off his balance. “You’re the one that called me a ray of sunshine, anyway.” Izzy frowned. “When’d I do that?”

They rested closer against him, laying their head on his chest as he rubbed his hand up and down their back.

“I’m not surprised that you don’t remember,” they said quietly. “It was a while ago. During one of our first training sessions. I mentioned having stabbing someone, and you made some joke about it, called me the ‘ray of sunshine pirate.’” They chuckled, their fingers trailing along the dainty golden chain of his brooch. “Think that’s about when I started to fall for you,” they said honestly.

Izzy hummed, frowning as he thought. “Think storm suits you better now,” he said after a moment, his voice quiet and soft. “You’re stronger than sunshine. More complex too. Could maim as easily as you heal.”

A slow smile worked its way across Mo’s face as they played with his brooch. “There’s your poetry again, my love,” they said quietly. Izzy only grunted, a comfortable rumble in his chest as their cheek rested against him, his hand still rubbing up and down their back.

“S’not poetry,” he protested, his voice low and soft. “Just an observation. There’s more to you than just sun. Didn’t know that then, but I do now. Fuckin’ glad that I do, too.”

Before they could respond, Mo’s focus was drawn away as their captain stepped up to Ned Lowe. His anger could be seen in the tension of his shoulders, his fists tightened as they hung at his side. Mo nudged Izzy, pointing out to him the change in their captain.

If Stede was this angry, angrier that he’d been even when he had thought the members of his own crew had mutinied and left Edward for dead, this would be interesting.

Once Ned Lowe had sunk down into the ocean, and his newly liberated crew had returned to their own ship, the people who called the Revenge home were eager to get back to their party. Stede had left before the other ship had fully pulled away, with Edward following closely behind, despite Izzy’s best advice.

For those more accustomed to the death that accompanied their occupation, the death of Lowe proved to just be another surprise to add to the celebration of the night. The crew was quick to drag Izzy into another song, Fang pointing out that his last one didn’t count because he was interrupted before he could finish. Izzy had given Mo an apologetic look as Fang and Jim dragged him back to center of the deck, but they waved off his apology with a bright grin, just as eager as everyone else to hear his beautiful voice again.

This time, Izzy started from a place of confidence. He sang sweetly, his song in French, much to everyone’s surprise, and the corners of his soft dark eyes were crinkled as he smiled. Mo found themselves pulled into dancing with Fang, the large man holding them gently as they spun, their movements uncoordinated and informal, making it up as they went along. Fang giggled like a child when they spun him away, feigning a dip before spinning back into them.

Mo only stopped when they felt a light tap on their shoulder, beaming as they turned to find Izzy. They’d barely noticed the familiar thump of his wooden leg as he approached them, too focused on dancing with their friend.

“Mind if I cut in?” A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips, only growing when Fang chuckled, happily stepping back to let his old friend take his place.

“Hi there.” Mo found it hard to wipe their wide grin off their face as Izzy held them, swaying with them softly to the music Frenchie played.

“Hello yourself,” he said. His lipstick had been smudged, they noticed, wondering for the first time if there were red marks on their face from his kisses. They didn’t mind the idea, letting the world see that Israel Hands loved them as much as they loved him.

“You know, I only just realized that I haven’t told you how beautiful you look,” they said, chuckling softly.

Izzy chuckled, a small smirk playing on his painted lips. “Darling, you tell me more than anyone’d believe.” Mo frowned, pouting playfully. “Not tonight,” they pointed out. “With your makeup and everything. You look lovely, Iz.”

Izzy shuffled on his feet, suddenly finding the deck very interesting as he avoided their gaze. “John says it’s called a ‘look.’” His voice was low and quiet, almost bashful.

Mo grinned. “And what a look it is,” they said softly. He blushed when they cupped his jaw, careful not to mess up the white powder Wee John had so carefully applied. “You look beautiful,” they whispered earnestly, looking deeply into his soft brown eyes. Their heart warmed, their chest aching with love as he bit back a smile. “Truly radiant, Israel.”

Izzy lowered his head, unable to hold their gaze. Mo was sure that he was stained a bright red underneath his lovely makeup.

“I didn’t know you could sing like that,” they said, deciding to switch topics and spare their flustered fiancé. They grinned, catching his eye as he glanced up. They gently nudged the man, hoping to draw him out of his shell. “What else don’t I know about you, Iz?”

He cleared his throat. “I’m an alright piano player,” he admitted hesitantly. He wrapped his arms around their waist, drawing them slightly closer as they gently swayed to the music Frenchie strummed on his lute. “Pretty good at poker.” He dipped his head, a smile spreading across his face as he chuckled. “Fuckin’ godawful cook,” he confessed.

Mo grinned, snaking their arms behind his neck. They moved together to the music, falling into synch without having to think about it. “What? You, Mr. Efficiency, not being good at cooking?” they teased. “I don’t buy it.” They grinned, turning sincere as they smoothed their hands over his shoulders, giving him a gentle squeeze, “I look forward to learning all the little things about you.” Their heart swelled as they looked at Izzy, so beautifully done up and at ease, blending in with the crew. His dark eyes were soft, the corners crinkling slightly as he smiled down at them.

“And don’t worry,” they continued, smiling widely. “I can be the one who cooks, if it spares you the pain.” Izzy chuckled.

“It’ll spare you the pain of eating my cooking,” he joked. “Think you deserve that at least, spending your life with me.” He smiled softly, his dark eyes twinkling with the light cast by the multicolored lanterns adorning the ship as they swayed to the music.

Mo hummed, content just to watch the way his lovely makeup caught the light. How lucky they were, to be able to see him like this, so open and relaxed, content just to dance with his friends to celebrate a silly holiday they had made up. Their fingers trailed down the lapels of his vest, toying gently with the dainty chain of his brooch, gliding over the sweet-smelling petals of the rose pinned to his chest.

“You know, I’m feeling kind of silly right now,” they admitted, their voice lowered to a whisper. They watched the glint of his borrowed brooch, catching the light of the lanterns hung above them, swaying with the gentle rocking of the ocean.

Izzy frowned slightly. He brushed a lock of hair out of his partner’s face, his thumb lingering on their cheek as he searched their face. “Why’s that?” he asked gently.

Mo could feel a slow smile spread across their face, lifting their head to look into the eyes of the man they loved. His apprehension seemed to melt away, seeing that they weren’t upset.

“Because,” they said, grinning widely as their heart felt it could burst with fondness, “here I was, thinking I couldn’t love you any more, that it simply wasn’t possible.” Izzy smiled, shaking his head softly as they breathed out a quiet chuckle. “Then out you come, looking so gorgeous, with your wonderful voice.” They chuckled, sure that their eyes shone with the love they felt. “You sure proved me wrong, Israel. Even sang a love song, and danced with me. If I wasn’t going to marry you before, I’m damn sure I’d have to now.”

Izzy’s eyes sparkled as he grinned down at them, laughing gently.

“Should have told me, if that’s all it takes,” he teased. “Would have done it a lot sooner.”

Mo rolled their eyes, shaking their head fondly as their partner laughed.

“Guess…guess I was a bit scared,” he admitted quietly. His gaze was lowered, not quite meeting their eyes as they gently swayed to the music together.

Mo frowned. They hated how anxious he could be, always getting trapped in the maze of his own mind, shooting himself down before others would get the chance.

“Were you worried about me?” they asked after a moment. Their voice was quiet, lowered to a soft whisper.

Izzy shook his head, frowning at the thought. “No,” he said simply. “No, love. Knew you’d understand.” He faltered, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Might have been a bit nervous,” he admitted, looking guilty. “But no, wasn’t scared, not of you seeing.” He chuckled, a small smile flashing across his beautiful face. “You of all people should understand, don’t you think?”

Mo shrugged, their fingers curling into the soft hair at the nape of his neck. Some of his pomade had begun to wear off, allowing the shorter locks of his freshly trimmed hair to fall loose. They spun a lock deftly between their fingers.

It struck them just how much things had changed in the last day. Izzy had agreed to marry them, to be their husband, and yet here they were, still shocked when he showed enough trust in them to let them cut his hair for him, and to see the desires he’d kept hidden away for decades.

They felt special, to be allowed to see him and love him in such a way. Israel Hands, soon to be Israel Bercham, was a man worthy of admiration and devotion, a man to be treasured above anything. The world had been cruel to him, and here he stood before them, opening himself up once again, showing the world who he was and finding the courage to ask to be loved.

Their smile grew as Izzy held their cheek, ducking his head to kiss them. Mo giggled, pushing gently against his chest, just enough to stop him in his tracks. Disappointment flashed behind his eyes, his painted lips tugging down into a small frown.

“Sorry, darling,” Mo said sincerely, their thumb running lightly over his cheek, careful not to smudge his makeup. “I don’t want to mess up your beautiful look,” they explained. A smile flickered across their face. “Not only would that be a travesty on its own, but Wee John might kill me if I ruined his handiwork.”

Izzy frowned, but didn’t stop them as they leaned closer, pressing a gentle kiss to the underside of his jaw, the only part of him not covered in dainty white powder.

“Fuck the makeup,” he said as they pulled away. He met their gaze easily. “John can fix it if he needs to,” he insisted. “Don’t even want it if it stops me from doing what I want.”

Mo grinned, chuckling softly as they looked up at him. “And what is it you want, Israel?” they asked quietly, unable to resist the opportunity to tease.

Izzy smirked. “Think you know,” he said. Mo nodded, grinning smugly.

“Think I do,” they admitted. Their fingers trailed over the swallow tattooed on the side of his neck, as beautiful and dainty as him. They couldn’t help but think that a songbird would be equally as fitting for their lover. “Well, I’ve never been one to deny you something that would make you happy,” they joked, already standing up on their toes to kiss him, their arms snaking behind his neck to hold him close. Izzy was quick to reciprocate, wrapping his arms up their back as he hugged them to his chest, kissing them slowly and sweetly.

The couple only separated when a faintly annoyed voice called out to them from across the deck.

“You best not be fuckin’ up my work!”

Mo snorted as they broke apart from their partner, resting their forehead against his shoulder as he laughed, running his gloved fingers through their hair.

“Sorry, John,” they called, glancing over their shoulder at the man, grinning widely at the scolding look he gave them where he perched on a crate, his eyeshadow shimmering in the lantern light as he squinted at them. “You just made him look too good!” They pushed away Izzy’s hand as he flipped off their friend, his own teasing way of responding.

“It’s not my fault,” they continued, not acknowledging their grinning partner when he pressed a kiss to their cheek, their eyes still fixed on the large man in his stunning blue dress. “How could it be, when he’s this pretty? I blame you two, personally. Made it impossible for me to control myself.”

Izzy turned a dark shade of pink, the color only showing through on his uncovered ears and neck, making his partner chuckle fondly.

“Fuck off,” he muttered weakly, his gaze lowered.

Mo grinned, gently holding his chin as they tipped his head up to meet their gaze. “No,” they said, their voice gentle yet firm as they gave him a warm smile. “Because you are beautiful, Iz. You always have been. Now…now it’s just highlighted, for everyone else to see.” Izzy swallowed thickly, adjusting on his feet as a lump formed in his throat, but they continued. “You’re wonderful, Israel. And I’m not the only one who thinks so.” They looked around them, at all the pirates with their arms flung around each other, laughing and sharing drinks, dancing beneath the light of the stars and the lanterns they had picked up from shore. “Everyone here knows. Everyone here sees you, and they love you, because you’re amazing. So no, I’m not going to fuck off about this, because you need to hear it, you stubborn bastard.”

Izzy dropped his head, unable to meet their gaze. Mo sighed softly, pulling him closer until he rested against them, their fingers brushing over the back of his neck as they soothed him.

“One day, you’ll see what I see,” they whispered, pressing a soft kiss to his temple. “Until then, I’ll believe it enough for the both of us. And the crew can back me up on this.” Izzy breathed out a weak laugh. He raised his head just enough to look at them, a small smile on his face, even as his eyes stayed hesitant.

“You’re too good for me,” he said quietly. He sounded almost guilty, his insecurities rearing their ugly head once again.

Mo shook their head, giving him a scolding look. “No,” they said firmly. “There’s no such thing as too good for you, Israel.” They cupped his cheek, holding him gently, still careful not to ruin his makeup that meant so much to him. “You deserve the best, my love. And I won’t stand for you believing anything less.” Izzy grunted, still finding it hard to hold his partner’s loving gaze. Not wanting to ruin the evening for him, especially after his big step in trusting the crew to see him in such a vulnerable state, Mo changed the subject.

“Think something might be in the air, with Pete and Lucius getting engaged the same night we did,” they said casually, winding their arms behind their fiancé’s neck. Izzy scoffed, a small smile flickering across his face even as he rolled his eyes. He could tell that they were sparing him, and his eyes were warm and soft as he looked at them, his gratitude apparent. “Those twats stole our moment,” he grumbled playfully.

Mo grinned, happy to play along. “That right?” they teased. Izzy nodded. “Hmm, well maybe they wouldn’t have if they’d have known,” they pointed out gently. “Hard to claim they were stealing attention if they didn’t even know about us.” Izzy grumbled something under his breath. “Still,” he said, more clearly, his tone indignant, “even if we told them all now, they’d have beaten us to it.” Mo pulled back enough to look over their partner, looking him over in disbelief. “Are you jealous, my love?” they asked. They almost laughed, saying it out loud. Izzy was a possessive and insecure man; jealousy was second nature to him. But never before had they seen him jealous in such a way, not for a single person’s attention, but for the loving community that the crew had become, congratulating the other happy couple on their engagement and wishing them the best.

Izzy frowned, his brow furrowing as he scowled. “No,” he said shortly. Mo raised an eyebrow, easily seeing through his sad excuse for an act. He huffed in annoyance, rolling his eyes dramatically before speaking.

“Fine,” he said, leaning forward so only they could hear his hushed voice as he spoke by their ear. “Suppose I am, a bit. What’s so wrong with that?” His voice was low and defensive, as if expecting to be scolded or mocked.

Mo beamed. They pulled back just enough to cup Izzy’s cheek, giving him a short peck of a kiss.

“Nothing,” they promised, meeting his soft dark eyes easily, wishing to wash away the hesitance they saw etched in the crinkles of his handsome face. “They’re going to want to celebrate with us too, you know,” they reassured him. Their arms came to rest on Izzy’s shoulders, pulling him slightly closer as they began to sway to the music once more. “We’ll have our moment, Iz. Whenever you’re ready, we can all share in the happy news, together.” Mo smiled softly, seeing their love’s worry begin to melt away.

“They’ve made it pretty clear by now that they love you,” they continued, smirking when Izzy scoffed, looking away. “Who else have they made a leg for, Israel? Who else have they fought so hard for?” They caught his eye. “I’m not the only one with love for you, Iz,” they said calmly, with the confidence of someone who knew their words were true. “You have a ship full of friends here. Family, if you want. I might be the most outspoken about loving you, and I certainly have some fun ways of showing it,” they chuckled as Izzy smirked, his eyes squinted coyly, “but they love you too, almost as much as I do.”

Izzy hummed, still not seemingly completely convinced as he looked down at them, a faint smile gracing his lips. His lipstick had smudged around the edges, the color growing duller with every kiss the pair shared.

“Roach has been pestering us,” he said after a moment, his rumbly voice soft and quiet. “Suppose that could be considered excitement.” Mo grinned. “It absolutely can, Iz.” He smiled, his head ducked almost bashfully. “They love you,” they repeated, standing up on their toes to kiss his temple. “And I love you too.”

Izzy chuckled, grinning widely as he looked at them. His eyes twinkled, and they had a feeling it was from more than the lanterns hanging above them.

“I love you too,” he said, with such sincerity that their chest ached. “Though you oughta know that by now.”

Mo sputtered out a short laugh. They shrugged, grinning up at the man they had fallen so deeply in love with, who grinned smugly, clearly pleased with himself. “I had my suspicions,” they joked, chuckling as Izzy smiled fondly. Their smile widened when he ran his fingers through their short hair, pulling them closer to rest against his chest. He pressed a sweet kiss to their forehead, holding them gently in his arms as they moved together, lost in their own moment.

Slowly, the energy of the night began to slow, with pirates drifting off in pairs or small groups as they made their way towards bed, either their own or a partner’s. Before too long, it was only Frenchie, Izzy, and Mo left on deck. Frenchie still strummed absentmindedly on his lute, making up notes as he went along, content to sit with his friends at the bow of the ship, watching the peaceful rolling of the waves as they moved steadily through the night. Izzy hummed along to the music, sitting on a crate with his lover, leaning into them as they wrapped their arm across his back, their hand running slowly up and down his arm beneath the gentle swaying of lantern light.

“So,” the musician said, setting his lute down on his lap and breaking the peaceful quiet that had fallen over the friends, “when’s the big day?”

Izzy lifted his head, frowned softly as he turned away from the gentle rippling of the ocean. “What do you mean?” he asked.

Frenchie grinned. He nodded down at their intertwined hands, where they rested on the first mate’s lap. “Your rings,” he said simply, his voice uplifted with a light chuckle. “You switched them. Figured that means you two crazy kids are finally gettin’ hitched.” He chuckled when Mo grinned, resting their head on Izzy’s shoulder as he looked down at his hand, seeming almost surprised to find their dainty silver ring still on his finger.

“’Bout time, if you ask me,” the cheerful pirate continued, absentmindedly strumming another cord on his lute. He looked between the two, an easy smile on his face as he saw the small smiles they shared, holding loosely onto each other. “So, who proposed? Was it you?” he asked, looking at his best friend, an eyebrow raised suspiciously. He turned to Izzy, not waiting for a response. “They were talking about it ages ago,” he announced.

Izzy grinned, his ears turning pink as he looked at his blushing partner, who did their best to hide their face in his neck as they groaned.

“Were you now?” he asked quietly, his gloating tone only making them blush more. “C’mon now, darling,” he drawled, running his gloved fingers through their short hair. “Don’t go and hide now. The evening’s just getting fun.”

Mo snorted, slowly lifting their face to look at their grinning fiancé, his eyes sparkling as he took in the red that stained their face.

“I think you’ve had quite a bit of fun tonight,” they pointed out. “Think it’s hard for you not to, when rope’s involved.”

It was Izzy’s turn to redden, though he didn’t look away as he blushed, still grinning as he held their gaze. He shrugged casually.

“Could have been more fun,” he said after a moment’s consideration. “You know I’m not one for a crowd.” He sighed softly. “Could have been more fun if you weren’t provoking those twats too.” He rolled his eyes when they frowned.

“Could have gotten yourself hurt, you prick,” he continued, his low voice scolding. “You know better than that.” He pulled them closer, pressing a soft kiss to their forehead, surely leaving a lipstick mark behind in his wake. “Never do that again,” he asked, his voice soft and low. “Don’t put yourself in risk for some ass-backwards reason like protecting my honor.” He scoffed the words out, rolling his eyes as he spoke. “I can handle myself, don’t need to worry about you getting yourself in some dangerous situation, fucking everything up for yourself. Could have made it worse for everyone.” He waited, his hand trailing up and down his partner’s back as they rested against him, their cheek moving with every rise and fall of his chest. He hummed when they didn’t respond, looking down at them intently.

“Please, darling,” he asked, “do this for me. Don’t do something stupid.”

Mo grumbled something, nestling closer into Izzy’s arms. “I won’t do something like this again,” they muttered reluctantly. “Can’t promise to never stand up for you, but I’ll try to do better. As long as you know you’re worth standing up for.”

Izzy breathed a weak laugh, wrapping his arms tighter around them. “’Course, love. You’ve made that abundantly clear.”

Frenchie snorted. “They’re never gonna stop, you know?” he asked Izzy, giving him a knowing look. “They could be dead, and still find some way to get back at people who insult you.” He shrugged casually, plucking a few more notes on his lute. “Just in their nature.” He grinned when Mo turned, propping their cheek on their partner’s chest so they could look at their best friend.

“Oh, don’t give me that look,” he joked, laughing as Mo glared halfheartedly at him, half of their face obscured by the dark fabric of Izzy’s flowy shirt. “Love you, mate, but you’re intense as all hell.”

Mo shrugged, humming noncommittally.

“So, why haven’t you two shared the news yet?” Frenchie asked, looking between the two. “Going for some kind of grand reveal? Think you might have a bit of trouble topping tonight.”

Mo glanced at Izzy. He was the one who had made the call. It wouldn’t feel right, trying to explain things for him.

“Just…need a moment,” he explained slowly. “Need some time to adjust to it, before everyone else shares their thoughts on it.” Frenchie frowned, his brow furrowing. “Pretty sure everyone’s thoughts would just be ‘Congrats’ or ‘What flavor cake do you want?’”

Mo chuckled. They glanced up at their fiancé, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. “I think he’s right, Iz,” they said quietly. “We can wait as long as you’d like, make no mistake there,” they promised, smoothing their hand over his shoulder, “but the crew won’t be anything but happy for us.” They smirked. “And Luce might be a bit jealous,” they teased, chuckling as they pressed another kiss to his neck.

Izzy swallowed thickly, his gaze not moving from where it was fixed on the deck. “Lucius isn’t the one I’m worried about,” he said, his voice coming out low.

Mo frowned at his serious tone, pulling back enough to look at him more fully. “Who are you worried about, then?” they asked quietly.

Izzy sighed, not meeting their eyes, choosing instead to look out over the side of the ship, watching the rolling waves of the peaceful ocean. He seemed to consider his options, taking his time before responding.

“Edward might have some thoughts,” he said hesitantly, his words coming out slowly and quietly. He sighed, rolling his eyes in irritation. “Not that he gets a say,” he continued firmly, “but I…I need some time,” he admitted, “to prepare for that.”

Mo only nodded, smiling softly while Frenchie bobbed his head in understanding.

“Of course, love,” they said quietly, giving him a warm smile. “You take as long as you need. Believe me,” they said with a chuckle, “I’m not going anywhere.”

Frenchie snorted. “Not without kicking and screaming,” he muttered under his breath.

Izzy hummed, smiling softly as he looked down at his partner, his shimmering eyeshadow almost as beautiful as his soft dark eyes, regarding them with such love.

“I’d do the same,” he said honestly, the words coming easily. Mo only smiled, cuddling up closer to their fiancé, resting their head on his shoulder as they looked out at the open ocean. They felt at peace, watching the moonlight dance across the calming waves in the comfortable warmth of Izzy’s arms, hoping every day could be spend this way, surrounded by loved ones, with Izzy by their side.

"Let's not let it get to that point."

#izzy hands #ofmd #ofmd izzy #izzy hands x oc #izzy hands x reader #my writing #original character

[mandiemon3]

Parenting is hard.

(Especially when your kids are adult and middle aged men who suffer from an existential crisis lol)

🏴‍☠️ p.6 of my silly OFMD fanarts 🏴‍☠️

Has this been done yet? I hope not :)

[mandiemon3]

When someone leaves a nice comment on my fanfic.

Specifically for The Cocoon Splits on AO3.

[mandiemon3]

The Best Revenge is Living Well- Chapter 32

Mo cracked their eyes open slowly, squinting as bright morning light hit their tired eyes. They groaned softly, turning their head slightly and tucking their face behind the warm shoulder pressed against them, doing their best to block the sunlight poking them. They groaned again when the shoulder moved as Izzy lifted his head, looking sleepily over his shoulder at them. Mo adjusted their arms where they draped around his waist, shifting so they pressed more fully against his bare back and tucking their face into his loose hanging hair. His back rumbled as he cleared his throat, the muscles of his back flexing as he stretched lazily.

“Good morning, darling,” he said slowly, his voice still thick with sleep. He gently took hold of one of the hands wrapped around him, lacing his fingers with theirs as he sighed contently. His thumb ran over their fingers, gliding over their rings that they had never taken off during their impassioned night.

Mo shifted, ducking their head down to press a slow kiss to the base of his neck. “Good morning, my love,” they whispered. They lifted their head, pressing another kiss to his shoulder. “Did you sleep well?”

Izzy chuckled softly, his voice low and rough. “After last night?” he asked, his voice lilted playfully. “Half surprised I woke up at all.”

Mo breathed out a laugh. “That should count as your workout for the day,” they joked. “Maybe even the whole week.” He hummed, adjusting so his naked body pressed more firmly against his partner. They hadn’t bothered getting dressed before settling for the night, content just to rest against each other under their thin blankets.

“Nah,” he drawled, smirking lightly. “We’ll get plenty more workouts in this week.”

Mo chuckled, giving him a gentle squeeze as they dipped their nose into his soft hair. They could still smell the delicate scent of lavender clinging to him. “I like the sound of that,” they murmured. They sighed softly, their heart feeling so full that they could cry.

“I can’t believe we’re engaged,” they whispered. Izzy shifted, slowly rolling onto his side to face them. They chuckled, brushing his dark hair out of his face as he settled, resting his head on the pillow next to them. “I’m going to marry you,” they said breathlessly, unable to hide their amazed grin.

Izzy chuckled, smiling widely as he looked at them. “Having any regrets yet?” he teased, running his callused hand over the smooth skin of their side.

Mo laughed. “Never,” they promised, pushing themselves up to lean over him, slowly caressing his cheek as they kissed him. They stayed close when they parted, only pulling back enough to look at him. “I’ll never regret choosing you,” they said, giggling as their giddiness washed over them again. “Gonna do my best to be the best fuckin’ spouse.” They kissed him again, chuckling as his arms wrapped around them, holding them flush against his chest. “Gonna take care of you, Israel. Do whatever I can to make you happy.”

Izzy hummed, smiling as he tucked their hair behind their ear. “Already pretty happy,” he confessed, smoothing his hands over their exposed back when they rested against him. He sighed softly, pulling them even closer. “Fuck, I love you,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to their temple.

Mo grinned, holding onto his chest and relishing the familiar warmth of his body as he pressed against them. They ducked their head, tenderly kissing the underside of his jaw before shifting, rolling onto their back and fiddling with the rings on their left hand. They carefully slid off their most prized ring, smiling softly to themselves. Izzy watched them as they picked up his hand, their thumb gliding over the small spade tattooed between his thumb and index finger as they pulled it closer.

“What are you doing?” he asked, watching them with a fond smile.

Mo chuckled. “What does it look like I’m doing?” they said, not taking their eyes off their work. “I’m giving you a ring.” They slid the small silver ring on his ring finger, frowning lightly as it stopped at his knuckle. They tried again with his pinkie finger, breathing out a small laugh when it fit, the emerald shining brightly on his finger. It looked like it belonged there. “There you go, my love,” they said, raising his hand to press a kiss to their heirloom ring, and another to the rest of his knuckles. “A proper wedding ring.” They turned his hand, kissing his palm tenderly. “If you’ll have it, that is.”

Izzy laughed breathlessly, beaming when they turned to look at him. He moved to gently hold their face, his eyes shining as he guided them closer to kiss them.

“’Course I’ll have it,” he said, chuckling softly. He met their gaze easily, the corners of his eyes crinkling as he smiled down at them where they rested on his chest. His thumb ran over their cheek. “I’ll wear it forever,” he vowed, his voice soft as he held their gaze.

Mo grinned. “You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to,” they assured him. “But it does suit you.” They moved closer, running their fingertips over his morning stubble as they leaned up to kiss him again. They chuckled against his lips when he wrapped his arms around their shoulders, holding them gently as he pulled them closer to deepen the kiss.

They sighed as they pulled apart, laying down to rest their head on his shoulder. They grinned when Izzy held up his hand, admiring his new ring.

“Never occurred to me to wear it on my hand,” he said after a moment. “Had it around my neck for months, but never put it on my finger.” He chuckled, glancing down at them with a lopsided smile. “Might have felt too real then,” he admitted. “But now, it is real.” He carded his fingers through their hair, leaning down to press a slow kiss to their forehead. “Thank you,” he whispered, his warm breath fanning across their forehead, “for making it real.”

Mo chuckled. They smoothed their hand over his chest, enjoying his familiar warmth and feel of his wiry hair as they pressed against each other.

“Thank you,” they said earnestly, “for accepting.” They held his gaze easily. “My life wouldn’t be the same without you.”

Izzy smiled softly. He gently guided them to the side, giving them a reassuring smile as he moved them off of him to lay on their shared pillow. He sat up, stretching with a light groan as he turned, swinging his foot over the side of the bed. He hummed as Mo ran their hand along his exposed back, frowning as they watched him reach for something on the desk. He fiddled with whatever it was outside of their line of vision, tossing a small bit of darkly colored fabric back on the desk as he turned back to them.

Izzy pushed himself up to sit against the head of the bed. He gently brushed Mo’s disheveled hair out of their face, smiling as their eyes slipped closed, a content smile on their lips under his touch. He picked up their left hand, rubbing his thumb over the back of it as he adjusted his hold on something in his other hand.

Mo’s heart skipped a beat when they saw the sunlight catch on something small and metallic in between Izzy’s fingers, realizing what was happening right before he slipped the small golden ring onto their finger. Their breath caught in their throat as he held up their hand for them to see. There, on their ring finger, fitting like it was made for them, was his emerald ring, something they’d seen on the tie around his neck every day that they had known him.

All they could do was look at it, their eyes watering as they struggled to process. Izzy chuckled lightly, pressing a kiss to the top of their head and wrapping his arms around them to draw them closer, until their back pressed against his chest.

“There,” he said, his voice uplifted as if it was the simplest thing in the world. “Now we match.”

Mo sniffled, still staring at the golden band around their finger.

“A-are you sure?” they asked after a moment, their voice coming out thick and shaky. They turned to look over their shoulder, their eyes wide as they looked at the man they loved. “You really don’t-”

“Oh, shush,” Izzy interrupted, chuckling softly as he met their eyes. “I know I don’t have to,” he promised. “I want to, darling. More than anything.” He leaned down, resting his forehead comfortably against theirs, his beautiful dark eyes warm and softened by love. “I want you to have it. It was never meant to be mine, anyway.” He swallowed thickly, his gaze lowering as he grew distant, losing himself to a memory.

“It was my mother’s,” he explained quietly. “One of the only bits of jewelry she had that was worth something. Took it when she died, so my father couldn’t pawn it.” He scowled. “Didn’t want it to fund his boozing,” he said bitterly. Slowly, his face softened, seeming to return to the present as he cupped Mo’s cheek.

“I want you to have it,” he said again, looking deeply into their eyes. A smile flickered across his face. “It can be another family heirloom. Something to pass to loved ones. And you,” he said, his smile widening, “you’re the one I love, the one I want to spend my life with.”

Mo laughed breathlessly, still tearing up as they pushed themselves up, wrapping an arm behind Izzy’s neck to pull him down into a kiss. He chuckled against their lips, quickly giving himself over to it and wrapping his arms around them, gently holding them. They only pulled back when they ran out of air, smiling widely as they looked at Izzy, with his soft eyes and tousled hair.

Mo chuckled. “And you thought you weren’t romantic,” they teased, wiping at their eyes. They grinned when he laughed, feeling like their heart could burst with love for him as they heard the beautiful sound.

Izzy grinned down at them as his laughter faded, meeting their gaze comfortably as they rested against his chest, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “Lucky that we both had emerald rings, wasn’t it?” he said after a moment.

Mo nodded, breathing out a short laugh. “Really is. The crew might not even notice a change.”

Izzy hummed. “Spriggs might,” he noted, his fingers idly tracing small circles between his partner’s shoulder blades. “That boy is perceptive, more than I’d like.”

Mo chuckled. “If anyone notices, it’ll be Lucius,” they agreed. They grinned, lightly nudging their partner. “Think he might have a bit of a crush on you, love.”

Izzy scoffed, shaking his head incredulously. “Well, much as I hate to disappoint, I’m a one-person type of man.” He dipped his head, pressing a kiss to their cheek and grinning when they giggled and wrapped their arm behind his neck. “And I already found the one for me,” he whispered.

Mo grinned, loosening their grip on him to let him sink back down to recline next to them.  “You have the ring to prove it,” they pointed out, tapping the silver band on his finger.

Izzy hummed, holding up his hand to admire it once more. “That I do, love.” He breathed out a short laugh, glancing down to where they rested, pressed up against his side with a content smile on their face. “You still gonna kiss it every night and every morning?” he teased. His hand ran up and down their back as he held them, his thick calluses tickling their sensitive skin.

Mo smiled. “Maybe even more than that,” they replied, only half joking.

Izzy chuckled softly, staring at the small silver band on his finger. He looked at peace, a small smile on his face as he took in the sight.

Mo shifted beside him, wrapping his arm over their shoulders as they sat up more to rest against his chest.

“Guess now’s as good a time as any for us to have our big talk,” they said after a moment, almost reluctant to draw their fiancé out of his thoughts.

Izzy frowned, dropping his hand back down to rest on his lap. He turned to face them, brushing their hair out of their face as he looked down at them.

“What do you mean?” he asked softly. Mo shrugged. “You know,” they said, toying with the hand slung over their shoulder. “The big talk, about how things will work when we’re mateys.” Izzy’s frown remained, still not understanding. Mo smiled faintly. He was so cute when he was confused, his handsome face creased, and his brow furrowed slightly.

“Things like if we want kids someday, any religious stuff, how we’ll handle finances,” they explained, trailing their fingers over the curves of his face, lightly tracing each beautiful line. “Any big stuff that’ll affect us both.”

A small smile crept across Izzy’s face. “Well,” he said slowly, “we can’t have kids, not after your medical issues.” He smirked, cupping their cheek as he looked down at them, his dark eyes warm and soft, glinting with a mischievous light. “Otherwise, we’d have had one by now.” Mo chuckled, blushing lightly as they leaned into his touch. “Neither of us believe in a god,” he continued with a small sigh, pulling them closer, “at least not one worth worshipping. And anything I have is yours, love. Can’t think of what else needs discussing.”

Mo grinned. “Anything that I have is yours as well,” they said. “Not that I have much, but it’s all for us anyway.” They leaned closer, pressing a slow kiss to his cheek.

“But…there is a way for us to have kids,” they said slowly, their fingertips trailing across his chest, swirling through the his hair. They bit back a smile when Izzy flashed them a confused look, his eyes wide with what almost looked like panic.

“You’re right about my medical stuff,” Mo reassured him, smoothing their hand over his shoulder and giving him a gentle squeeze. “We have nothing to worry about there, love.” He sighed softly, his eyes slipping closed and his head dropping back to rest against the wall in relief. They chuckled, ever amused by his theatrics. “I just mean that we could always adopt one if we wanted to,” they explained, unable to wipe away their smile. “Gods know there are enough stray kids running around in need of a bed and a warm meal.”

Izzy fell silent, his eyebrows pinched as he thought. Mo watched him, his eyes flitting across the ceiling, trying to sort through his thoughts.

“What do you think?” they asked after a moment, their voice scarcely more than a whisper.

Izzy frowned. He looked down at them, hesitantly meeting their eyes. “That’s…a lot to think about.” He chose his words carefully, speaking slowly and quietly.

Mo nodded, smiling softly. “You don’t need to make up your mind now,” they reassured him, their hand running up his neck to cup his cheek. “We have a lifetime to figure things out. I just figured it was worth checking in with you about, to see if you have any immediate thoughts.”

Izzy shifted, adjusting to turn onto his side more to face them. He ran his thumb across their cheek, gently guiding their head to look up at him.

“Do you want kids?” He asked the question slowly, almost anxiously as he met their gaze. They couldn’t read him like they normally could, his nerves clouding his eyes and tugging his lips into a small frown.

Mo shrugged, suddenly finding it hard to put their thoughts into words. They looked into his soft eyes, his eyebrows pinched with concern as he studied them, looking for any sign of distress.

“I…I guess…I-I do,” they said haltingly, looking deeply into his eyes, so filled with love. “I never really realized it until now, but…yeah.” A small smile crept across their face, looking at their wonderful partner, with his soft eyes and doting expression. “I…I-I want to have a kid with you, Israel.” They laughed breathlessly, feeling like a weight they didn’t know they had been carrying was lifted off their shoulders, leaving behind only the gratitude and excitement they felt at the promise of a future with the man they loved.

Izzy’s eyes were growing hazy, blinking rapidly as water collected. When he spoke, his voice came out low and thick.

“Is…is it okay if I think about this for a while?” He held their gaze, his hand running up and down their arm absentmindedly.

Mo nodded, smiling softly. “Of course, my love. There’s no rush.”

Izzy smiled weakly. “Thank you,” he murmured. He pulled his partner closer, pressing a kiss to their forehead. After a moment, he cleared his throat.

“What else do we need to talk about?”

Mo hummed as they thought, resting their head on his muscular chest. They felt at home, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed, his solid warmth pressed against them.

“What about names?” they asked after a moment. “Last names, I mean. I know we’re not technically getting married, but I don’t know.” They shifted, propping their chin up on his chest to look up at him, their fingers trailing through his thick hair. “It could be nice, having the same last name.”

Izzy hummed, cupping their cheek as he considered. “What were you thinking?” he asked.

Mo shrugged, sighing softly. “I don’t really know,” they said honestly. “I’d like to have the same name as you, and let everyone know we’re together, that we’re a family.” A small smile flickered across Izzy’s face. “But?” he prompted gently, his hand running absentmindedly up and down their arm.

They sighed again. “But I’d like to have a name of my own, too,” they admitted, their voice soft and quiet. “I love you, Iz, and I love your name, but-” They hesitated, struggling to find the right words. “I don’t want to give up my own identity,” they finished. “I don’t want to just be your spouse.”

Izzy frowned, tucking a lock of hair behind their ear. “Wouldn’t fuckin’ ask you to be,” he said quietly, his voice coming out low and rumbly. He held their gaze levelly. “Be you, darling. If you can’t take my name and do that, then don’t take it.” He held their chin gently. “Do what you have to,” he encouraged softly. “Fuck being a Hands. Be a Berch. Fuck’s sake, be something else if it suits you.”

Mo smiled softly. Even then, he was able to surprise them with never ending support. “Thank you,” they whispered. “For understanding.” Their brow furrowed, frowning slightly as they thought.

“I think you should keep your name,” they said, cupping Izzy’s cheek. Their heart warmed as he gently held their wrist, rubbing small circles where their heartbeat pulses. They leaned closer, giving him a slow, sweet kiss. “You are the famed Israel Hands, after all,” they murmured against his lips, grinning when he chuckled, his hand cupping their jaw, holding them close.

“We could compromise,” he suggested, his words coming out slowly. Mo grinned, pulling back enough to look at him more fully. “What?” he asked gruffly, studying them with a confused expression. “Why the face? You’re looking at me like I sprouted a second head.”

Mo giggled. They leaned forward, kissing him again as they laughed. They held his head gently, combing their fingers through his hair as they looked up at him when they parted, feeling even giddier than before.

“It’s nothing,” they promised, smiling widely. “Just…I love you so much. And I’m so proud of you.” They chuckled again, their heart aching with love when his eyes twinkled, grinning down at them with a confused look on his face, even as pink dusted his cheeks.

“Here you are,” they said, “compromising, being vulnerable, like it’s the easiest thing in the world to you.” Izzy brushed a lock of hair behind their ear, his smile widening when they turned, kissing the palm of his rough hand where it held their cheek, their gaze never faltering.

He cleared his throat, his eyes flickering away for a moment before finding theirs again. “You make it easy,” he said, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Mo ducked their head, feeling a light blush dusting their cheeks. They rested their cheek on his shoulder, circling their arms loosely around his neck.

“Well?” they asked after a moment. “What’s your idea for a compromise?” Izzy chuckled, running his hand up and down their back. “We could always have two names,” he suggested. “Have public names at sea, as part of our reputations, and another we use privately. Something just for us, maybe a few people we trust.” Mo’s brow furrowed as they frowned. “We could do that?” He chuckled again. “Yes, love. It’s more common than you’d think,” he continued. “Pirates do it to avoid suspicion when they’re not at sea. Makes it easier to avoid the crown, and the noose. Part of why Edward started going by Blackbeard in the first place.”

Mo smiled. “I like that,” they admitted quietly. “Like the idea of us having a secret name, just for us.” They kissed his neck tenderly, sighing happily. “Still doesn’t solve the issue of what the secret name would be, though.”

Izzy hummed. “What if,” he suggested slowly, choosing his words carefully, “we don’t use either of our names? What if we just came up with a new one?” Mo frowned, thinking it over. They tilted their head, craning their neck to meet his eye. “Have anything in particular in mind?” they asked.

He smiled, still massaging their back. “We could just combine our names. Come up with something new.”

Their frown deepened. “Like…Berch-Hands?” they asked. “Hands-Berch?” Izzy shook his head, chuckling softly. “Nah,” he said, a lopsided grin on his face as he looked down at them. “Gotta sound like a real name.” He hummed as he thought. After a moment, he chuckled, barely more than a breath of air. “What about…Bercham?”

Mo smiled, running their hand up his neck to cup his cheek. “Bercham,” they repeated, turning it over in their mind. “Huh. I…I love it,” they said honestly, their thumb trailing over the tattoo under his eye. “Mr. and…” they stumbled, frowning as they thought, “well, I guess Mr. Bercham.” They grinned, looking up at their lover. “Has a nice ring to it, doesn’t it?”

He smiled, pulling them ever so closer as he nodded. “I like it,” he agreed, his voice soft and quiet as he held their gaze. “Wanna be Mr. Bercham,” he continued, scarcely louder than a whisper. “Your Mr. Bercham.”

Mo grinned. “I want to be your Mr. Bercham too.” They shifted, holding themselves up to look at him more fully. “Then it’s settled then, I guess,” they said. “We’ll be Berch and Hands at sea, and Bercham in private and on land, whenever we need a break from pirating.” They giggled, unable to hide their joy as they looked into their lover’s soft dark eyes. “Mo and Izzy Bercham,” they said, almost absentmindedly as they ran their fingers across his face.

“Mo and Israel Bercham,” he corrected softly, a small smile playing on his lips.

Mo grinned. “Of course,” they said, their fingers stilling on his cheek. “Silly me.” They leaned forward to kiss him, their heart warming when he gently held their face between both of his hands. When they separated, they barely pulled back, just enough to be able to look at each other.

Mo smiled. “You’ll always be Israel Bercham to me,” they whispered. Izzy smiled softly, lazily brushing his fingers through their short hair. His dark eyes were soft, brimming with love as he looked at them, content to stay forever in their arms. After a few moments, he swallowed, seeming to come back to the world a bit as he blinked.

“Is there anything else?” he asked, his voice low and gravely. “Or is that all we needed for the big talk?”

Mo smiled, propping themselves up on their arm next to him, resting their face on their hand so they could gaze up at their fiancé. “Those were all the big things,” they said. “Do you have anything you want to talk about? Anything in particular you want from our life? Anywhere you want to go, anything you want to do?”

Izzy shook his head, watching them as they spoke, their fingers gliding over his jaw, playing with his short cropped beard.

“Never thought about much other than the ship, if I’m honest.” He cleared his throat, gently taking hold of their hand and bringing it closer, pressing a soft kiss to their ring-adorned knuckles. “I have the most important thing,” he murmured, his thumb running over the back of their hand. “What about you? Have any dreams for the future?”

Mo grinned. “Well, the biggest one is going to be coming true soon,” they said cheekily. “Seeing as you accepted and everything, and we’ve already established that it would be rude to back out.” They giggled when Izzy rolled his eyes in feigned exasperation, smirking despite himself.

“Honestly, I’m open to just about anything,” they continued, turning serious as their giggles faded away. “As long as we’re together, Frenchie is nearby, and we’re able to see our friends, I’ll be happy.

Izzy hummed, brushing a lock of hair away from their face. “Should be able to manage all that,” he said quietly. “Do you have anything else, my love? Any secret wishes?”

Mo bit back a small smile, and Izzy frowned. “What?” he asked, his voice laced with suspicion. “What is it?” They only shook their head, waving their hand to tell him it was nothing as their head dropped to rest on his chest. He sighed wearily, brushing his fingers through their hair. “Just tell me, Mo. I’m gonna be your fuckin’ matey, so you might as well tell me now.” He held their face, gently turning them to catch their eye. “I want to know,” he insisted quietly, his eyes wide and soft. “Wanna make you as happy as I can.”

Mo smirked. “You’re not going to like it,” they warned, chuckling softly. Izzy only looked at them levelly, still holding their face gently. When he didn’t waver, they sighed, rolling their eyes halfheartedly. “Alright, fine,” they said, still somewhat reluctantly. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” They cleared their throat, looking deep into Izzy’s eyes as they took a deep breath, mustering their courage to ask for something they knew he wouldn’t want.

“I…I want a cat, Israel. Not now,” they clarified, “but someday. I want us to have a cat together.” Izzy’s brow furrowed, taking a moment to process before he laughed. It erupted from his chest, almost like a bark as it burst from him.

“That’s it?” he asked, looking at them incredulously. “All that fuss, all that draggin’ your feet, just ‘cause you want a fuckin’ cat?” Mo nodded, chuckling as they watched him. Their heart warmed at the fondness they could see in his eyes.

“You’re fuckin’ ridiculous, you know that?” He shook his head, rolling his eyes softly. “We can get a fuckin’ cat, darling,” he said after a moment, heaving a heavy sigh, as though he was conceding a great loss. “If it means that much to you, ‘course we can get a cat.”

Mo’s brow furrowed. “Really?” they asked, almost as surprised as he had been. Izzy nodded, grinning widely as he looked down at them with adoring eyes. “Fuck,” they muttered, unable to hide how taken aback they were. “I was really expecting more of a struggle with that. Could’ve sworn I’d have to talk you into it, go through the whole thing about why I want a cat and not a dog. Didn’t expect you to just go with it like this.” Izzy hummed, running his thumb over their cheek.

“Why do you want a cat?” he asked, chuckling when Mo sighed, letting their head fall forward to rest against his chest with a quiet groan. “Just asking, my love. We can still have one, but why a cat when you could have a dog?”

“Because,” they mumbled, not bothering to lift their head as it laid against him, “cats are amazing, Iz. They’re sweet, and soft, and cuddly, and perfect in every way.” Izzy scoffed, combing his fingers messily through their hair. “But dogs have purposes,” he shot back. “They can be trained to work, to help out. A good dog can be a guardian, or a hunter, or at least get help in an emergency. Cats just…fuckin’ lay there.” He looked down at his partner, his face showing how deeply confused he was. “Why would you want a cat when you could have a dog?”

Mo reluctantly lifted their head, propping their chin on his chest as they looked up at him. “Maybe I don’t think any creature should have to serve a purpose to be deserving of love,” they said after a moment, scarcely louder than a whisper. “Maybe I just want to take care of the animals most people push aside. They deserve a home too, Iz.” They cleared their throat with a frown, speaking at a normal volume again. “Besides,” they said, frowning up at their lover, “cats can be helpful. They catch mice and keep away pests. And they have the added benefit of being small and easy to cuddle with,” they pointed out. “It’s a lot harder to sleep with a dog than with a cat.”

Izzy groaned, dropping his head forward until his forehead rested against the top of their head. “Now the creature has to sleep in our bed?” he grumbled, sounding almost pained.

Mo laughed, trailing their fingers blindly along his cheek, their grin widening as they felt his smile. “Please, love?” they pleaded. “It doesn't have to be a big cat. It’s just…well, my time on the Revenge has been my only time not having one, and…I miss it.” They sighed softly, gently caressing his cheek. “My parents always took care of them when I was growing up, and I guess it just became second nature, having them around. I’d like to carry it on, Iz, taking care of a cat or two, showing them love the way every creature should know. And I want to do it with you,” they added, smiling softly.

Izzy sighed heavily. He lifted his head, tilting their chin up and pressing a slow kiss to their forehead. His thumb trailed over their cheek, holding their gaze levelly.

“We can get a fuckin’ cat,” he said, his voice low and rough, even as a smile pulled at his lips. He sighed heavily, doing his best to exaggerate his exasperation. “The beast can even sleep in bed with us. If it’s clean,” he added, looking at them pointedly.

Mo grinned, nodding quickly. They pushed themselves up, meeting him in a kiss, their hand coming up to grasp the back of his neck to pull him closer. They beamed when they parted, unable to hide their giddiness.

“Oh, I love you, Israel,” they said sincerely, holding his face gently and looking lovingly into his beautiful eyes. “More than words can express.” They giggled, their heart fluttering as he grinned. They carded their fingers through his thick hair. “And of course, our cat will be clean, baby. I wouldn’t want to sleep with a filthy animal either.” They smirked, pulling him closer for another kiss. “Well, maybe one,” they whispered as they parted, their face only inches from his.

Izzy sputtered a laugh, cupping their cheek and grinning. They could see the soft pink of his tongue as he grinned widely, his hand slipping back to dip into their hair as they pressed a kiss to his cheek.

Mo slowly laid back down next to him, humming softly as they snuggled closer to their fiancé, wrapping their arms loosely around his waist.

“Do you think a cat would do alright on a ship?” they asked.

Izzy hummed, his hand trailing lazily up and down their arm. “Don’t know,” he admitted. “Most captains wouldn’t allow an animal aboard, I know that much.” He chuckled softly. “Think Bonnet could be persuaded,” he continued, sounding amused. “’Specially if you gave him a list of good reasons.”

Mo frowned, turning to look up at their lover. “Think he would say yes if I just asked really nicely?” they asked quietly.

Izzy chuckled, brushing his fingers through their hair. “Think that only works on me, love,” he teased.

They hummed, frowning softly as they thought. “Israel, do you always want to be a pirate?” they asked. Their voice was quiet, almost nervous, as they met his gaze, not sure what answer they hoped for. Izzy frowned, clearly taken aback.

“What else would I do?” he asked softly, brushing their hair back and away from their face. “Can’t very well work most jobs, not with this leg. Besides, this crew…they’re not so bad.”

Mo breathed out a short laugh, looking deeply into his eyes as they smiled.

“You could do something, love, if you wanted to. We could figure it out.”

He hummed, his brow furrowing. “Why do you ask?”

Slowly, a frown worked its way onto their face, their eyes darkening as they thought.

“I just want you to be safe,” they said, their voice small and weak. Izzy breathed out a small sigh, his brow still furrowed. “I will be safe, darling,” he said softly, his thumb running gently over their cheek. His lips pulled up in a small smile. “Made it this long,” he pointed out.

Mo frowned. “You’ve lived this long,” they rephrased, “but how many times have you gotten hurt over the years?” Izzy’s smile faded, the corners of his eyes creasing when his eyebrows knit together as they continued. “How much of you is scars, Iz? And how many more times can you get hurt before something becomes permanent?” They gently cupped his cheek, their thumb running over the small tattoo under his eye. “You’ve already lost you leg, Israel. I don’t want you to lose anything else.”

Izzy sighed, his eyes dropping as he spoke. “I’m careful,” he said slowly. “And I’m good. At this, all of this.”

Mo nodded, catching his gaze and holding it levelly. “I know, love. But…what if that’s not enough?” Their eyes began to water, a lump forming in their throat. “I just…I can’t lose you. I thought I did, before, and it almost killed me.”

Izzy’s eyes softened, bringing his hand up to hold theirs as it cradled his cheek. “I’ll be safe,” he promised, his quiet voice rumbling beautifully in his chest. He sighed softly, his face creasing with worry as he looked into their scared eyes. “What are you asking?” he asked after a moment. “Do you want to leave? To…” he sighed quietly, rolling his eyes at having to quote Stede. “Do you want to retire?” he asked, his low voice sincere as he studied them, searching for an answer. “Leave this all behind?”

Mo sniffled, shrugging weakly. “I don’t know,” they said, their voice pitifully small. “I don’t want to leave.” Their voice caught in their throat painfully, and they swallowed thickly. “But I’m scared, Izzy.”

He sighed, wrapping his arms around their shoulders and drawing them closer, so they pressed firmly against his chest. He pressed a kiss to their forehead before tucking their head under his chin.

“I’ll be alright, Mo,” he promised. He combed his fingers through their hair, pressing his nose into the soft locks. “If things get worse, if it comes down to it…” he trailed off, his brow furrowing as he swallowed thickly. “I’ll consider retirement,” he finished, his voice coming out gruff. He cleared his throat. “For you, love, I’ll consider it.”

Mo frowned. “I don’t want you to give up something you love,” they said quietly. “You’re a pirate, Iz, through and through. I couldn’t take you off the sea, not when you love it so much.” Izzy sighed. “Darling, look up at me.” Mo hesitated, reluctantly lifting their head to meet his gaze.

“Alright, listen to me,” he instructed calmly, his eyes soft as he looked at them. “All of this, the sailing, the pirating, the fuckin’ ocean. It’s nothing to me.” A small smile flickered across his face, his dark eyes warm and comforting. “What’s important is you, love. Us, together. Can’t do that very well if we’re gettin’ stabbed or shot, or the fuckin’ navy is closing in. So,” he continued, his thumb trailing gently over their cheek, “if that happens, I’ll give it up. Not because you made me,” he insisted, holding up a hand to cut them off as they began to protest, “but because I choose you. I choose this, love. Us, and our future. That’s what’s important to me, more than any number of years at sea.”

Mo sniffled, wiping at their eyes to dispel their tears. They cleared their throat when they looked back up at Izzy, still uncertain as the guilt slowly gnawed at their stomach.

“Are you sure?” they asked quietly. They almost told him that it didn’t matter, that they’d always stay with him, no matter what he chose, but they realized with a comfortable ache in their chest that they didn’t have to. After all that time, Izzy knew.

He nodded, holding their gaze easily. “Yes,” he said calmly, without a moment’s hesitation. “Absolutely certain.”

Mo sighed softly, knowing that they couldn’t change his mind. Even if they could, part of them didn’t want to, feeling relieved knowing that someday he might be safe, no longer having to fight everyday with his life on the line.

“We can figure it out,” Izzy continued. “No matter what, sea or no sea, pirating or otherwise, we’ll figure it out together. Just you and me.”

Mo bit back a small smile. “And our cat,” they added, chuckling when he rolled his eyes.

“Yeah, darling,” he said gently. “Us and whatever fleabag you pick up along the way.”

They grinned, pushing themselves up onto their forearms. They leaned closer to kiss him softly and sweetly, cradling his face gently in their hand. They rested on his chest when they parted, looking out the small window of their cabin, where the sunlight danced across the vast waves of the ocean.

“I think we should get up,” Mo said after a few moments of comfortable silence. Izzy groaned, grumbling something indistinct as he wrapped his arms around their waist, pulling them closer.

“I know, love,” they continued. “I don’t want to either, but I don’t think we have much choice.” He cleared his throat, combing his fingers through their hair absentmindedly.

“Stede gave me the day off,” he reminded them. “Remember?” He smirked. “Or were you too focused on getting back here?”

Mo laughed, glaring halfheartedly up at him as he chuckled, their head rising and falling with the movement of his chest.

“You’re the one who was practically dragging me back here,” they retorted. “Think you might have worn out my boots, pulling me so quickly.” He laughed again, the hoarse, rumbling sound music to their ears. “And might I remind you,” they continued teasingly, “he gave you the day off, not me. Don’t suppose you want Stede bursting in here looking for me, just to find this.”

Izzy smirked, his narrowed eyes glinting mischievously. “He should be so lucky,” he said, his tone matter of fact. “To see either of us, really.”

Mo sputtered a laugh, propping their chin up on his chest to look at him, grinning widely at his own joke as he watched them laugh. Once their laughter began to fade, they pressed a slow kiss to his chest before reluctantly hauling themselves upright.

“Come on, my love,” they said, smoothing their hand over his soft stomach. “Time to start the day.”

Izzy groaned, pressing his face further into the pillow. Mo chuckled as they clambered over him, their muscles aching from the movement as they stumbled to their feet. They slowly made their way to where they had tossed their clothes to the side in their mad dash to get to bed, groaning softly when they had to squat down to retrieve them, doing their best to ignore the aching burn in their thighs.

Izzy chuckled as he watched them move, reluctantly pushing himself up to sit so he could better watch them. “Glad to see I left a lasting impression,” he drawled, smirking when they turned to face him.

Mo scoffed, tossing him his clothes as he turned, his foot hanging over the side of the bed. He caught them, his eyes never leaving his partner as he grinned.

“Was this your plan all along?” Mo joked, stepping into their smalls. “Do all this just so you’re not the only one with a limp?”

He laughed, loud and full-bodied, as he pulled on his smalls, shifting awkwardly to tug them up. “You caught on quick,” he retorted. “At least yours will go away,” he pointed out. His eyes narrowed, smirking mischievously. “Unless, of course, you’d want to celebrate more tonight.”

Mo grinned, pulling their undershirt on over their head. “This coming from the man who calls himself old,” they teased, stepping into their pants. They shook their head slowly. “Like an old man could have that much stamina.” They chuckled, tying the drawstring around their waist. “If this is what you’re like now, I can’t imagine what you were like 20 years ago.” They glanced at their partner, happy to see a self-satisfied grin on his face as he buttoned his shirt.

“What can I say? You don’t leave me much choice.”

Mo blushed, looking away when he winked, busying themselves with their overshirt as he laughed.

“You’d better stop talking now,” they warned. “Before I drag you back to bed.”

Izzy grinned, chuckling as he slid his pants up his leg. “That supposed to deter me?” he asked humorously, giving them a fond look. He hummed, pulling his pants as high as he could while sitting. “Sounds more like a motivation, if you ask me.”

Mo scoffed, stepping closer and gently tipping his chin up to meet their gaze. They smiled softly when he grinned, his hands moving without a thought to hold onto their hips. “Do you want me to help you get into your pants?” they asked, their voice lilted humorously. “Or would you rather send you fiancé out there to do all the work on deck on their own?”

Izzy huffed a laugh at their teasing tone. “What kind of partner would I be if I let you do that?” he asked, squeezing their hips. His gaze softened, smiling warmly. “I’d appreciate the help, love.”

Mo smiled, pressing a lingering kiss to his forehead. “Alright, sweetheart,” they said, leaning down to wrap their arms around him. “You know the deal. Just hold onto me.” They kissed his temple as he wrapped his muscled arms around their shoulders, stabilizing him when he pushed himself up, and catching him when he started to lean too far.

Izzy pressed a kiss to their cheek when they started to tug up his pants, holding onto their shoulders as he swayed. He rested his head against the side of theirs, watching with a fond smile as they worked. His balance had improved over time, slowly adjusting to the loss of his leg and finding himself able to stand without his prosthetic for longer periods without tipping over, not needing as much help staying upright as he once had.

Mo finished adjusting their fiancé’s pants, quickly busying themselves with tying the laces for him. When they were finished, they held his hips, dipping their head to kiss his neck. Izzy chuckled, brushing his hand through their hair when they pulled away. They wrapped their arms tightly around his waist, propping their foot up on their bed before slowly lowering him back down to sit on their bed. Their new routine had helped Mo as well, gradually building up more muscle from the repeated lifting and lowering of their partner, and they found it less challenging day by day. Even then, when their muscles screamed for a break after their exuberant workout, they didn’t find it as physically taxing as they once had.

Mo handed Izzy his leg once he was settled, pushing his thick hair out of his face before turning to retrieve their green vest. They stepped over the crumpled ball of fabric that had become of Stede’s luxurious robe, still laying near the foot of the bed where Izzy had thrown it aside the night before. They shrugged on their vest before picking up the robe, looking over it to make sure it hadn’t been snagged on the rough wood of the floor.

“We didn’t get anything on that, did we?”

Mo turned, smiling at their lover as he secured the last buckle that held his leg in place. He pushed himself up with a groan, slowly making his way to join them.

“No, my love,” they reassured him with a chuckle, draping the robe over one of the chairs pushed under the small table. “It’s alright, it made its way out of the crossfire in time.” They smiled as Izzy stepped closer, wrapping their arms loosely around their waist. “You sore?” they asked, their eyebrows raised teasingly as they smirked, resting their hands behind his neck and twirling a lock of his long hair.

He only hummed, dipping his head to press his nose into the crook of their neck. “What do you think?” he said quietly, his warm breath tickling them. He pressed a kiss to their sensitive skin, still tender from when he had sunk his teeth it. “I was sore before all that, love. Feel like I’ve been hit by the fucking ship now.”

Mo laughed. They ran their fingers through his hair, lightly scratching their nails down his scalp.

“In a good way?” they asked.

Izzy huffed a small laugh.

“In the best way.”

Mo grinned. “Good.” They gently guided his head up, wrapping their arms around his neck when he leaned forward to kiss them, taking time to linger as he moved against their lips.

He smiled softly when they broke apart, his forehead resting against theirs.

“I love you,” he whispered.

Mo smiled. “I love you too, Mr. Bercham.”

#izzy hands #ofmd #izzy hands x oc #izzy hands x reader #my writing #ofmd izzy #original character

[mandiemon3]

I just wanted to see stede flop all around my screen again

[mandiemon3]

worried that thing you put in your art or writing or game or music is too self-indulgent, too self-referential, too niche for anyone but yourself? fear not! you can do whatever you want forever. and you should.

[mandiemon3]

my yuletide gift for badideainaglass :-D

[mandiemon3]

Me: I don't write for validation.

Also me when my story on AO3 gets a kudos:

[mandiemon3]

Vico being the #1 Izzy Hands cosplayer/drag impersonator gives me so much joy

[mandiemon3]

Hi Mr Gaiman!! On this Trans Day of Visibility, (at least where I am) Do you have anything you’d like to say to your trans and queer fans and fellow writers?

As a trans person who recently got super into good omens, the portrayal of the divine beings as inherently gender nonconformist and often gender neutral has been extremely refreshing given all the hate going around these past few years. So i, personally, want to thank you for that :}

I see you. Trans friends, trans family, I see you.

[mandiemon3]

[mandiemon3]

[mandiemon3]

And I'll sing you to sleep and I'll sing you tomorrow

Bless you with love for the road that you go

[mandiemon3]

And I'll sing you to sleep and I'll sing you tomorrow

Bless you with love for the road that you go

[mandiemon3]

god I love this scene