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liltaireissocute · 4 months

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please know my actions are not motivated only by envy

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bloomeng · 2 months

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stede is spreading her dress up agenda

#ofmd #our flag means death #stede bonnet #izzy hands #edward teach #ofmd au #ofmd lesbian au #ofmd genderbent au #genderbend #rule 63 #fem!stede #fem!edward #fem!izzy #steddyhands #edizzy #stizzy #blackhands #gentlehands

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stedefxckingbonnet · 7 months

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—MASTERLIST

Congratulations, dear traveler, you've made it!

You've found my list of all of my writing thus far! You can come back to this at anytime, and I will update it frequently as I continue to write. Requests are currently OPEN! Wide open ♡

Our Flag Means Death

Izzy Hands

Past Lives

Eternity

Eternity part 2

Moonlight Meetings

My Favorite

Star-Crossed

My Gem

What I See

The Holdovers

Angus Tully (coming soon!)

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piratingsoup · 1 year

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Chasing her down like paparazzi then getting executed for my bold actions

#our flag means death fanart #our flag means death #izzy hands #fem izzy #another twitter dress up poll sweep

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letsdeerintheheadlightsuniverse · 1 month

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<<Previous Chapter <<

**Masterlist**

>>Next Chapter>>

Pairing: Izzy Hands x gn!reader

Synopsis: Your screams of pain sound all too familiar to the First Mate.

A/N: This chapter is short and sweet but I think it nicely moves yours and Izzy's dynamic in a new direction.

Content Warning: mentions of injuries, trauma, blood, self-harm and angst. I think that's everything. This series is 18+, so minors dni. Go away (politely).

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

"Are you okay now, Izzy?"

Gods, what a question to be asking him, the First Mate thought bitterly, as he failed to meet you concerned gaze, all the while sitting stoically in a chair beside your bed. You had dared reach for his hand only moments prior, but that had merely resulted in the silver-haired pirate flinching away from your touch.

It hurt to see him so closed off and unreachable, as he paid mind to whatever unpleasant thoughts were undoubtedly running through his head. A never-ending torment that sneered venomous poision and jeered at how he had once again letting you down.

He was a fucking coward, the First Mate concluded, as his attention trailed from the sight of his bitten down nails, towards the vivid world beyond the window. Despite the butter yellow warmth, Izzy felt chilled to the bone. The cold reminiscent of his time in the row boat, when he had searched for the overboard body of Pete, below the tumultuous, midnight blue waves.

A shiver ran through him, shaking up his already fragile insides. Gods, his constitution felt gossamer thin. The unshakeable Israel Hands, reduced to a snivelling, faint-hearted...twat, all because he could not steel his nerve long enough to be unaffected by your screams. Oh, how you had begged him to stop the doctor. The heartbreaking deals you had been willing to make in those tortuous moments. The deals with the devil, you had bargained in return for your freedom from the pain you had endured- all equally distressing for the poor pirate. The sight of blood and a limb at risk had been too much for Izzy to handle. Too similar to his own fate upon the Revenge, all those many moons ago.

His name had fallen so saccharine sweet and full of longing from your chapped lips, while a contrasting frown marred your enviable features, as the First Mate had abruptly fled from the room but even your desperate calls for his return were admittedly, not enough to drown out the ghosts of long before. The smell of rotting flesh, of gunshots wounds and putrid blood, had haunted him all down the hallway, as he put as much distance between himself and you.

Despite his wanting to be by your side, the overwhelming recollection of his own suffering had become too much for the First Mate to handle alone. Surprisingly, he had found solace from those he often held in contempt. The crew of the Revenge had welcomed him with open arms and even softer reassurances. He hated it. Loathing their pitiful gazes and attempts to console his traumatised mind.

It had to be some kind of sick joke. You were the one who needed comfort. Needed soothing words to inspire strength. He wondered, in his shameful absence, who had taken his place to hold you hand. Both Captains had be present to witness his act of cowardice but they were too busy holding your writhing body in place. Come to mention it, he had no laid eyes upon Buttons, when the rest of the crew had come to his aid. Had the mystic been by your side?

"Izzy, please speak to me." you implored, anticipating your request to be met with further silence, but the pirate surprised you this time.

"I didn't mean to leave you again. Gods, I'm..." he could not even finish his apology. The words felt so hollow, so insincere in the wake of his cowardice. How many more times was he to utter 'I'm sorry' to you? How many more times would you forgive him until you reached your limit and showed him the door? Or perhaps you would always accept his regretful acknowledgement, and he would abuse such a kindness time and time again, like the detestable creature he was. Never knowing when to stop and only ever pushing at everyone's boundaries until they snapped and showed him no mercy. What would such a punishment look like at your hand, the pirate wondered.

He was entitled to your wrath and yet, why the fuck were you being so nice to him? Talking calmly and handing him a cloth to wipe his tears. Wait, when had he started crying? Salt water tracked down the weary man's face, as you pressed a torn piece of rag into his hand, urging him to wipe away the evidence of sorrow. "I know." you said with such simplicity and ease, conveying all your understanding and acceptance so concisely in two singular words. Your tone completely devoid of any judgement or resentment.

The look of innocent consolation sent an involuntary flare of anger through the silver-haired pirate, igniting his quick fire rage in an instant. "Don't fucking agree with me." his hissed, eyes ablaze with disgust. Not for you. No, the abhorrance was not really directed towards you. Izzy was digusted with his own actions but old habits died hard. Lashing out at the nearest person, whether by tongue or by sword, was second nature to him. "Don't...don't be so fucking nice all the time. Just for once, would you shout at me? Push me away. Be selfish, be-be angry! Scream at me. Fucks sake, hurt me even. Treat me how I fucking deserve to be treated!" he implored you, breathless at his own admission. Chest rising and falling in rapid succession.

He craved the pain. The familiar sting of a slap or a bite- whichever you were willing to provide. It was a language he spoke well. Violence spoke all of the words he coukd not voice. A punch, a kick, a hand around his throat. Izzy knew what they represented, he understood their deeper meaning. You and that Stede fucking Bonnet, with all your 'talking it through as a crew' bullshit. That was the true enigma for the First Mate. Emotions were battled channelled through actions, rather than whatever drivel the Gentleman Pirate could ever babble on about.

Except, there was no retaliation on your part. No breaking him into submission. Just a watery gaze and a trembling lips at his confession. Dual hearts broke in succession.

You anguish derived from the pirate's self-hatred. Did he truly believe he was only worthy of such brutality? You detested those who had come before you, cursing every reprobate whom had dared enforce the darkness, that stoked Izzy's requirement for punishment. To add insult to injury, he longed for such cruelty to be delivered by your own hands. As if you could ever dare lay a finger upon his persons, that was anything other than a gentle caress or a squeeze of a hand. You may have been a pirate but never would anyone envisage such savagery from you. Your stomach turned at the mere thought of harming your beloved. "But you told me off for giving you a hug."

The sight of you so sad, made the ache in Izzy's chest double to the point of agony. Surely sorrow of such a magnitude would break through his ribcage and spill onto his obsidian black shirt? Whatever darkness had dwelled within him dissipated like mist upon the rolling ocean. Shoulders slumped forwards, as the First Mate reached forward, using the cloth you had handed him to wipe your own face. He could have wept when you leaned into his touch. Even after begging you to treat him like the dog he was, you still responded with a level of compassion, that completely flummoxed the pirate. "Why're you so bloody kind?" he whispered, truly wanting you to answer him.

Then, in that same sweet voice, you responded with a heartfelt truth. Five mere words that Izzy wished to have tattooed upon his body, across his heart. "You inspire it in me."

And with that, the First Mate vacated his chair and gathered you in his arms, mindful of your injured arm. Cradling you to his chest, he kept you close, savouring your warmth and softness- such a contrast to him own gruff and jaded exterior. "You stupid, wonderful, infuriating..." the sweet nothings continued, as he pressed a rough, chaste kiss to your forehead. The first of many, you hoped.

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A/N: I hope you liked this chapter. Genuine curiosity, what would you like to happen next?

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frooogscream · 6 months

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When ever I talk about DJenkins please imagine me saying his name in the “Fairy OddParents”- Dinkleberg voice

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shaw-ni · 11 days

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OFMD Fanfic set after season two, where the Revenge crew are visiting gentlebeard at their inn, but this time they’ve brought a new crew member, Isabel, who looks and awful lot like their old first mate.

*Bonnet squinting suspiciously at her* You wouldn’t happen to be part of the Hands lineage, perhaps?

*Edward shaking of his shock, as things finally start sliding into place* Yeah, mate! This here is Izzy’s cousin on his mums side! Twice as beautiful, twice as deadly! Didn’t I tell you about her haha (starts mentally calculating how the Crew managed this particular fuckery, bloody impressive, mind you, Isabel looks great but who’s body has been rotting away in his front yard for the past year…)

#izzy hands #trans izzy hands #trans fem Izzy hands #ofmd fanfiction #israel hands #Israel hands lives #listen I love love love trans man Izzy but what if it went the other way #don’t question why Ed is so chill he’s used to Izzy dodging death like it’s cis allegations #also good on Izzy living the trans dream of killing your old self and staring a new #or maybe that’s just me #in my head the crew started planning this after the calypso party after Izzy came out to them #she still goes by Izzy or iz btw #I have many thoughts about this is anyone wants to jump on the ship

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death--stranded · 7 months

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stede and izzy are going to be mean gay besties ......I feel it in me bones

#theyre both fem bitches like??????#come on. they will be whispering and giggling evilly by the end of the season #stede bonnet #izzy hands #ofmd

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clairebearsparkles · 2 years

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Yummy yummy flower symbolism. Second image is the flowers's meanings along with which colors mean which ones.

#our flag means death #ofmd #our flag means death fanart #genderbend our flag means death #genderbend #stede bonnet #edward teach #izzy hands #steddy hands #flower symbolism #femstede #femblackbeard #fem blackbeard can have a beard too because i said so #femizzy #sapphicofmd #clairebear art

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carrymelikeimcute · 6 months

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Characters with Izzy Hands vibes

Nancy Birch - Harlots (even the ring - perfect).

Amalia True - The Nevers

#izzy hands #femme izzy hands #fem!izzy #amalia true #the nevers #nancy birch #itv harlots

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bloomeng · 3 months

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ed and her three weed smoking gf’s (jack is taking the picture)

#ofmd #our flag means death #izzy hands #stede bonnet #edward teach #steddyhands #ofmd genderbent au #genderbend #rule 63 #fem!stede #fem!edward #fem!izzy #ofmd au #my art #ofmd lesbain au

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piratingsoup · 1 year

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It’s so funny to me that their fem dynamics would be the complete opposite of regular young!izzy/old!izzy

#our flag means death fanart #our flag means death #izzy hands #fem izzy #izzy x izzy

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letsdeerintheheadlightsuniverse · 1 month

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<<Previous<<

**Masterlist**

>>Next Chapter>>

Pairing: Izzy Hands x gn!reader

Synopsis: Izzy contemplates the future and whether or not you have a place within his.

A/N: You didn't think I was going to make you wait until the voting was over for more content, did you?!

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

DISCLAIMER: PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, REPUBLISH, OR TRANSLATE MY WORK ANYWHERE WITHOUT MY EXPLICIT PERMISSION. I DO NOT OWN OFMD OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS. NOR DO I CLAIM THE PROPERTY OF TAYLOR SWIFT'S MUSIC. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

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

'I have this thing where I get older but just never wiser.'

The silence was worse than the screams, he concluded, as he stared with troubled eyes at the still full rum bottle. His usual go-to method was drinking his problems away, and yet, this time, he could not even bring himself to bring the bottle to his lips. He knew the taste well. Knew the satisfying burn it would bring, as it slipped down his throat. Hurtful enough to numb to myriad of emotion that swelled and sloshed within him. Still, not a drop entered his bloodstream. Aside from the one glass he had shared with Edward, Izzy Hands was completely sober. Gods, it was tortuous.

'Midnights become my afternoons.'

Just a small sip. It did not even have to be the full bottle! Despite every fibre of his being screaming at him to partake in a drink, something deep within Izzy's consciousness willed him to remain alert. For once, it was not for the sake of the crew that he remained vigilant, as he so often did on moonlit nights upon the ocean waves, when he should have been fast asleep in his cabin. What could he say? He did not explicitly trust Stede fucking Bonnet's merry band of twats. On more than one occasion, he had discovered the nightwatch snoozing, instead of scanning the horizon. They had improved as a crew, no doubt about it but they still lacked the discipline of their more professional counterparts.

'When my depression works the graveyard shift.'

No, no, Izzy did not allow himself to succumb to his usual whim of finding solace in the amber liquid. He wanted his senses to stay sharp, not hazy with a rum-induced stupor. There was no horizon to watch, no threat of the British, no fairies- gods, the crew were obsessed with fucking fairies- to check for under Frenchie's bed each night. No, what Izzy was bracing himself for, was the eventual knock at his door.

'All of the people I've ghosted stand there in the room.'

Who would they send? Maybe Edward? Surely, not Bonnet. No, he would have his hands full consoling the rest of the crew. He could almost hear the sounds now, the wailing. The tears. The general cacophony of desperation. It would undoubtedly haunt him until the end of his days. On the quietest of nights, when the crashing of waves were not loud enough to drown his demons, Izzy was sure the echo of grief would reverberate through his mind, forcing him to relive the moment his life came crashing down around him.

'I should not be left to my own devices.'

The silver-haired pirate had not been present when the crew had found you in the hold. It had only been after saving Pete from a the fearsome waves of Poseiden's wrath, that Izzy had stumbled below deck- water-logged and desperate to see you again. That was when he had heard the commotion and followed the sound of Bonnet's surprisingly commanding voice.

There had been so much blood. Too much blood. Izzy had seen enough gore in his lifetime. Hell, he had had to keep his own guys from spilling out of his body on more than one occasion. Heh, he would never forget the look of fear on Edward's face, when the First Mate had almost bled out there and then on the deck of the Queen Anne's Revenge. But the incident in the storage hold was a completely different matter. It was your- well, a mixture of yours and Frenchie's- blood, that had stained the flooring of the ship. Your blood that had drenched Stede fucking Bonnet's fucking linen shirt.

'They come with prices and vices.'

Gods, just the memory of it made him want to hurl. This, this is why he usually drank. With alcohol in his system, Izzy would be able to suppress the unwanted memories, even just for a short while. But no, no! He had to keep his wits about him. He had to! If...

Fuck, please let it be an 'if' and not a 'when', he begged to every, single deity he could think of in that moment. If you succumbed to your injuries, he wanted to hear the née stone cold sober. He did not want to booze to take the edge off the inevitable heartache he would feel, knowing you had died without knowing you were loved. By the grace of Calypso, that man adored every inch of your very being. Mind, body and soul.

'I end up in crisis (tale as old as time).'

He should have been there, he cursed himself. Guilt eating him alive from the inside out. He should have been there to keep you safe. Or at least, he should have been the one to find you. To patch up your wounds, keep you conscious until they reached dry land. Oh, how he would have forgone all his usual composure. Without hesitation, you would have been bundled in his arms, anything to keep you warm enough to stave off the chill that came with blood loss. Izzy would have kept you close, as he coxed you to stay awake for him. He did not care if the crew thought him gone soft. In that moment, he would had indulged you in your every whin, if it meant you keeping your eyes open for him. Hell, he would have sung you every melody under the sun, if you so wished it.

'I wake up screaming from dreaming.'

But no, it had been Spriggs of all people, who had been the one to discover you. Gods, Izzy might have held a particular contempt for the young man but in that moment, he had been glad that the Scribe had been the one to find you. Though the First Mate would never admit it aloud, Spriggs was one of the more competent pirates aboard the Revenge, he had done well alerting those below deck of your predicament. Hell, he had made a good call fetching Bonnet, of all people. Stede fucking Bonnet.

Izzy almost felt indebted to the twat for the way he had managed to stem your wound and stopped you from bleeding out there in the hold. He had even gotten Frenchie stable enough to survive the rest of the storm. Whether the man lived or died now was purely dependant on the doctor's skillset.

It did not matter. Nome of it mattered. The past could not be changed. All Izzy had was the present and all he cared about, was if you too had a future.

'One day I'll watch as you're leaving.'

And then it came. The dreaded knock on the door. The resounding thuds turned Izzy's blood to ice. He was not ready- he would never be ready- to face whatever news awaited him beyond the thin piece of wood. The chorus of cries has not begun to fill the air yet. Perhaps he would be the first to be told. Maybe they were breaking the news to everyone individually, to allow a gradual wave of anguish to sweep through the crew, as opposed to a sudden, blunt force inducement of suffering.

'Cause you got tired of my scheming.'

Ambling over to the door, Izzy knew it was only a matter of time before the truth would out. No matter how much he tried to keep the news at bay. Oh, how the silver-haired pirate wanted to ruminate in the pre-grief a little longer. To play pretend and lie to himself some more. To convince himself that you were still alive. That your heart still beat it's steady rhythm. A song he knew so intimately. But Israel Hands was a self-described realist. He could not continue to entrench himself in fictional delusions, it was time for him to face the heartbreak dead on. To be brave one more time. He could not love you in this lifetime. However, he could treat your death with the respect it deserved.

'(For the last time)'

So, he braced himself for the teary face of his messenger. Prepared himself to hear the voice break and the words, "they're gone." Izzy said a silent goodbye to the technicolour world because without your vibrancy, it would surely fade to grey in a matter of moments. Despite all his efforts to steel himself against the worst, nothing could have prepared Izzy for what happened next.

'It's me, hi, I'm the problem, it's me.'

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stedefxckingbonnet · 7 months

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headcanons!!

by the way, everyone, i'll also write headcanons! just wanted to put that out there :) please keep the requests coming! i truly enjoy getting to write your ideas! i hope you all enjoy part two of 'eternity' ♡

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serenyetis · 2 years

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Still obsessed with @favouritefi gender-bent ofmd 👀 the titty compels me 🙏👅💦

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rreids · 16 days

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Ok ok this idea has been rotting in my head for a a WHILE- So, the truth or dare episode? but what about exBAU!Reader who left the team to take care of her and Spencer’s child, and she finds out about what JJ said? And she either gets angry or insecure? I keep picturing a badass reader but I could also see the insecurity too. -🦋

TRUTH • S. REID X READER

fem reader; 14 x 15 spoilers; reader is pregnant; spencer girl dad!; angst; fluff; we are anti-jeid in this household she is at most familial to him i take no criticism; spencer is so cheesy and in love (with the right person god bless); ~1.2k words

“—to say something that would get your attention…” you walk up to Spencer and JJ, ready to tell them about the cake cutting, and pause.

You’re not big on listening in to conversations and you trust Spencer, but something about the hushed tones has you on edge.

”Jennifer… truth or dare?” Your brows furrow at his voice and the question.

JJ pauses. And since when was she Jennifer? “Truth.”

“Did you mean it?”

You can’t wait. “Spence? JJ? They’re getting ready to cut the cake, you should come…”

They quietly exchange a few more words and your frown deepens, torn between worry and frustration. Spencer lingers a little too long on the spot, running his thumb over his wedding ring.

“Spence?”

He looks up. “Hi, honey,” his voice is soft, almost apologetic.

You sigh. “Is it going to upset me?”

He nods. “Probably.”

“Then it can wait. We’re here for Rossi and Krystall. Come on, everyone’s waiting.”

Spencer follows you and you don’t have to fake your smile as everyone settles into cheers and celebration, even if it fades a little while dancing with your husband. His brow is pinched, and you don’t like the pit in your stomach. Something was wrong.

After you’re sure you’re no longer tipsy from the red wine, you find Rossi and Krystall — “listen, I’m so sorry, but our babysitter…”

“Go,” Rossi laughs. “I know it’s hard for you to be away from her.”

It was true. You’d left the team and gone back to the legal field — in a desk job, with normal hours — to spend time with your daughter. It was a hard decision, but you decided you needed the structure. To be available if anything happened. You still loved and adored your friends, meeting up with them often and providing structure for them too.

“I’m so happy for you two,” you tell them between hugs, and you find Spencer finishing his rounds.

“Honey…” Spencer starts and you swallow against the lump in your throat. “Can we talk?”

“Can it wait until we’re home, Spence?” Your voice is almost pitifully weak, and you don’t even have a reason for it to be. “Izzy needs Mommy and Daddy to say goodnight.”

Spencer melts. “Of course.”

And that’s what happens. He tells her a story — one he clearly remembers and is reenacting, memories from his mother when he was a kid — and you tuck her in with a kiss.

It’s tense. You hate it.

“Do you…” you can barely get out the words. “Something happened. With JJ. I know you two were trapped together with Casey — and he was huge on truth or dare, so that conversation today… it’s related.” You’re tripping over them but you can’t stop talking. “Do you… do you love her? What’s going on, Spence?”

He shakes his head quickly. “She told me she loved me.”

You bite your lip. “And you think the best thing to ask is if she meant it?” Your voice quivers with barely restrained rage. “We have a daughter, Spence. You have another kid on the way.”

Spencer clasps your hand in his. “And I want nothing other than a life with you and them. Let me talk, sweetheart, please,”

You want to pull back, but you know not to reject him. Not now, when it could seem so final.

“Talk.”

Spencer sighs. “She’s saying she was saying it to get my attention, to make it clear I needed to do something — that nothing would be good enough for him… nothing could be his needed confession.

And I wanted to know if she meant it because she knows I’ve been head over heels for you since the day you walked through the BAU’s doors, only a year after I did. I thought you were gorgeous, and I could barely get out a ‘hello—’” you smile at the memory: he had been awkward, tripping over a greeting while you introduced yourself “—and JJ knew that. She does know I’m head over heels for you, even now.

She actually gave me advice. On how to ask you out, that first time, when we went to the film festival and you pretended you knew everything about how camera language worked on screen and I pretended not to know any better…” Spencer laughs when you whine, embarrassed. “So she’s always known I was yours from the moment I laid eyes on you. And she’s always been Will’s. I wanted to know if it had all been some kind of trick.”

You hum. “Was it?”

“Well, somebody came to tell us the cake was getting cut,” he nudges his nose against your cheek and presses a kiss to your skin. “So I didn’t get to hear, not in exact terms. But I don’t think she loves me as anything but a younger brother. An annoying one, at that. It wasn’t a trick for me, some plan to win me over she was in the long haul for. It was a trick for Casey. I… I shot him. He was going to kill JJ, he said it wasn’t good enough to save her life. It gave me the time to get my gun and aim.”

“You have perfect aim,”

“Now I do,” Spencer laughs, and you melt a little. “Remember when Hotch had to train me?”

You do.

“Spence.”

“Honey.”

“The next time a girl tells you they’re in love with you, I need you to laugh in their face and show them your ring.”

“I don’t want to do that to you,”

You sigh and lean into him, unable to stop the smile at the assuredness he has in your love, curling into his chest. “Okay, well, next time a girl who isn’t me does it, you tell me. I never want to be that upset with you again.” You trace your fingers over his stubble, his defined jaw, mapping out his features. “You’re mine. And I hate fighting.”

He kisses the top of your head, hand coming down to your beginning bump. “I’m all yours,” he agrees. “And I’m sorry for making you worry or making this more than it needed to be, I should’ve told you right after I got back from the case. After everything you’ve given up for me, I should kiss the ground you walk on.”

“You should.”

You can’t keep a straight face, dissolving into a fit of giggles as he murmurs praises of you and whispers of his adoration like a prayer.

“Oh, my love, may I lay out the red carpet before every—” you cut him off with a tender kiss, sweet and warm. He smiles against you, and brings his hand up to undo the pins in your hair, letting it cascade down your shoulders and next to his face.

Spencer pulls back and tucks the stray pieces behind your ears before cupping your face in his hands. “You are the only woman for me. I promise I will always want and choose you, just like I promised before everyone else all those years ago.”

You smile. “And I always want you, Spence.”

“Even when I’m telling you about my new passion for crosswords and interest in designing one myself?”

“Especially then.”

an emoji anon?? for ME>??? i love winning.. a little more angsty than badass but she is also angry. as she should be. (welcome im so so so happy KDFJKG i hope u like it <3)

#my works #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fic #spencer reid #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #requested #🦋 anon #cm spoilers

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