#technically this is just Stizzy for now

[ourflaghashands]

just wip things

a spicy scene from Pitch Black that I was too impatient to wait for 😂 (don't worry, I'm still working on chapter 4)

Read under the cut!

(I don't write spicy stuff very often so I'm sorry if it's wonky :'D)

Izzy paces back and forth across the captain’s cabin. It’s well past the point when Stede said he would be joining him, and Izzy is dying for an explanation. He hadn’t done anything wrong. At least, not really. But Izzy can still see Stede’s face, pinched and anxious, and the authoritative voice pouring out of him still rings in Izzy’s ears. He doesn’t know what to expect when Stede finally joins him.

He manages to get in a few more laps before the door opens with a gentle click and Stede walks inside, looking pale and drawn.

“How’s Frenchie?” Izzy asks, before anything else can be said. Stede puts up a hand momentarily before divesting himself of his coat. He sinks into one of the armchairs with a sigh. “He’ll be fine. Might need stitches, but Roach assured me he’d make a full recovery.”

Something in Izzy’s chest unclenches. He knows that it wasn’t his fault, but he had a sense of responsibility for the crew. He was supposed to make sure they were prepared for everything, and Frenchie’s sword work had never been his strength. Perhaps Izzy would have to fix that.

“Good.” Izzy murmurs, just loud enough for Stede to hear. He doesn’t want anyone to think he’s gone soft, so he adds, “It’d be a shame to lose the only bard on the ship.”

Stede snorts, slightly undignified, and the response says more about how exhausted he is than his looks.  Izzy slinks over to him. “What was it you wanted to speak to me about?” He can’t just sit here and wonder any longer – the unknown is driving him insane.

“I’m under no illusion about your abilities with a sword, Israel, but even you have to realize you were way in over your head. Why did you put yourself in that position?” Bonnet’s words strike something in Izzy, drawing up memories of the night of The Incident with Edward.

Izzy swallows, looking down at his feet. “I couldn’t let anything happen to my Captain.” He responds easily, because it’s true – even if he and Edward still aren’t entirely in good standing with each other, Izzy still can’t bear the thought of losing him. He’s been the one constant in Izzy’s life. The single port in a storm for as long as he can remember.

“I understand. And I do thank you for helping him. But next time you shouldn’t go in alone like that.” And Izzy knows Bonnet is right, loath as he is to admit it. Izzy has always been Edward’s attack dog, his sword, an extension of the legend himself, but Blackbeard’s reputation isn’t unfounded. Ed probably would have been okay if Izzy hadn’t jumped in like that, but taking the risk of finding out was too terrifying to give thought to.

Izzy finally crosses the room to Stede and sinks to the floor, resting his forehead against one of the Alpha’s knees. “I’m sorry for making you worry.” He bites the words out, because this sort of vulnerability is still new to him. Bonnet makes a noise, somewhat like a scoff but too gentle, and cards his fingers through Izzy’s hair.

“You’re okay, darling. I’m just glad nothing happened.” As calm as Stede sounds, the memory of his furious gaze is still Fresh in Izzy’s mind, and it draws a submissive whine from the omega’s throat.

“None of that, now.” Bonnet murmurs, reaching down and forcing Izzy’s face up. He leans down and presses their lips together, all gentle. Izzy lets himself melt into it, lets Bonnet deepen the kiss and explore his mouth with his tongue. He takes what he’s given and nothing more, until Bonnet breaks the kiss. Izzy’s tongue darts out to wet his own lips.

He’s still tense, despite the fact that Stede seems to have forgiven him. There’s always been a balance to Izzy’s experiences, and right now the scales feel tipped. He had upset Stede, he knows he had, but there’s no follow up. No retribution. It leaves something in him unsettled, and Izzy doesn’t like it.

“What if I…” He trails off, before he realizes how messed up that thought process is, and he feels his face go warm.

“What if you what?” Bonnet prompts. His hand is still in Izzy’s hair, scratching soothing circles into his scalp. It’s almost distracting enough to make the omega lose his train of thought. He feels his face pinching together like he’s just eaten a lemon. How does he voice the problem without sounding absolutely mental?

He’s never been good with words. That’s always been one of his shortcomings.

“I…you can’t just forgive me, Stede. I saw how angry you were.” Izzy doesn’t look Stede in the eyes, focusing his attention on a fold in the Alpha’s shirt.

“I just did.” Stede says, nonplussed. Izzy fights down a groan, shaking his head and nearly dislodging Stede’s hand.

“I don’t want you to.” Izzy clarifies, feeling his face grow hotter. “I need you to follow through.”

There’s a long moment of silence, before Stede makes a soft noise of understanding. “You…want to be punished.” It isn’t a question, but Izzy nods a confirmation all the same. Shame wells up in the pit of his stomach because he knows it’s not normal of him, but he can’t help the way he is. A lifetime of conditioning, quid-pro-quo, an eye for an eye – whatever you want to call it – has made it impossible for Izzy to leave things feeling unfinished, especially when it comes to those who have earned his respect.

And, despite everything, Stede has earned it.

Stede hums thoughtfully, his hand leaving Izzy’s hair. Izzy fights down a soft noise of disappointment – he hasn’t earned that affection yet. There’s a lingering silence, and Izzy’s nerves fray just a little more as time stretches on between them. He feels like he’s about to burst when Stede finally addresses him.

“What if you made it up to me?” Stede asks, and Izzy finally raises his eyes to look the Alpha in the face. It’s a decent proposal – Stede seems hesitant to actually punish him, never seems to really want to unless he’s truly angry, but his eyes are bright, and Izzy thinks he can work with this.

“…Yeah, alright.” He concedes, the tension in his shoulders receding a bit. He will earn his forgiveness. That’s acceptable.

“Come here, darling.” Stede urges Izzy up with his hands, and Izzy rises from the floor, clambering into Stede’s lap and straddling his thighs, his feet hanging over the edge of the seat. Stede pulls him into a heated kiss, and Izzy can feel that the Alpha is already half-hard in his trousers. Something in Izzy’s stomach squirms pleasantly at the thought. It could have been the excitement of the raid, but Izzy likes the thought that their proximity is what’s doing it.

Stede kisses Izzy until he’s breathless, delirious and pliant under the Alpha’s hands. The hard line of Stede’s cock is pressing into the space between them, and Izzy’s hips roll forward into the bulk of it, making Stede hiss into his mouth.

“Strip for me, Darling.” Stede’s voice is rough, and tinged with the steel of command that Izzy is helpless to disobey. He carefully extricates himself from Stede, removing his clothing one piece at a time. His cravat and ring are first, and he places them carefully on the nearby table. His vest, shirt, and pants are quick to follow, before Izzy peels off his smalls. They’re damp, and he knows he won’t be putting them back on until they’ve been washed.

Stede rises from the chair, grabbing a cushion off of the nearby chaise and depositing it onto the floor. “Kneel there, and wait for me.” He says, no-nonsense. Izzy sinks to his knees on the cushion, glad of the padding. He’s not as young as he used to be, after all.

Stede busies himself, grabbing a few things from around the room before going into the washroom for several minutes. Izzy remains where he is, letting the calm warmth of obeying the orders given to him wash over him. He’s drifting, mind pleasantly fuzzy, and the burning need between his thighs is only a distant bother.

He loses track of time, and nearly jolts out of that fuzzy space when Stede returns, carrying a basin and wearing a robe that does absolutely nothing to hide his straining erection. He places the basin and a cloth down on the table, before turning his attention back to Izzy. He pets a hand through his hair, humming pleasantly.

“Good boy, Izzy. So patient for me.” He rumbles, and it’s enough to make Izzy’s legs shake where they’re still holding him up. Stede reaches down and presses the pad of his thumb against Izzy’s lower lip, and Izzy’s mouth falls open obediently. Stede presses the digit flat to Izzy’s tongue, holding his mouth open.

“Will this be alright for you? If I use your mouth?” Stede asks, and Izzy whines at the promise of it, nodding his head just slightly so as not to dislodge the Alpha’s hand. The consent seems enthusiastic enough for Stede, because he removes his thumb and tugs his robe open. His cock is standing at attention, rock-hard and glistening at the tip. Izzy feels his mouth water, but doesn’t close it.

Stede shifts closer, letting just the tip rest against Izzy’s tongue. He shifts his hips, dragging it back and forth against the plain of it, before slowly pushing in. His thrusts are shallow at first, presumably to let Izzy get used to the feel of it, before he pushes deeper. Izzy can feel the tip of it hitting the back of his throat before long, and subtly tilts his head to give the Alpha a better angle, breathing through his nose.

Stede sets up a slow, lazy rhythm, giving Izzy time to pull in little puffs of breath between each thrust. It’s a torturously slow pace, but the repetitiveness of it drives Izzy to heights he didn’t know he could reach. The weight of Stede on his tongue, the control of it, and the knowledge that he’s being used by Stede to chase his own pleasure tugs him into that fuzzy space once more, and he’s only mildly aware of saliva leaking from the corners of his mouth.

He’s painfully hard himself, and he can feel slick drooling out of him, down between his thighs and onto the cushion below him. He reaches up to hold onto Stede’s hips, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. He doesn’t control the pace – Stede is doing that, but he needs contact, and this is the best way to get it.

Stede seems to read his mind, and one of his hands goes to Izzy’s hair, fingers carding through it and pressing against the base of his skull. Izzy’s eyes slip closed and he loses himself in the sensation of it. The alpha keeps up his carefully controlled pace, and Izzy can feel warmth and pressure building between his thighs; he’s close to coming, his hips twitching slightly against empty air.

It goes on like this, Izzy quickly losing track of time, his own arousal building. Stede’s thrusts are getting a little faster, cutting Izzy’s breathing off at quicker intervals. He’s swallowing around Stede’s cock, willing the Alpha to go deeper. Stede complies, and soon enough he’s fucking into Izzy’s mouth with abandon.

The intensity of it is too much, and Izzy feels the tension between his legs build at a dizzying rate. His thighs flex as he tries to stave it off, but there’s nothing he can do. Heat blooms low in his belly and his hips jerk forwards as he comes, untouched, his cunt clenching rhythmically on absolutely nothing.

He distantly hears Stede swear above him, a choked-off ‘Did you just—’ spilling out of his lips before his hips stutter and he comes down the back of Izzy’s throat. Izzy swallows him down with purpose, sucking gently until Bonnet’s softened cock slides back out of his mouth, leaving him empty. He whines, bereft, and suddenly Stede is on the ground with him, pulling him into a filthy kiss. Izzy doesn’t doubt he can taste himself, his tongue is so far back in the omega’s mouth.

The aftershocks and shaking in his thighs are too much, and Izzy sinks the rest of the way down, a grimace pulling at his lips as he lands in the cold puddle of his own slick. Stede chuckles gently above him, pressing his face down to nuzzle into Izzy’s hair. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” He murmurs, before carefully rising to his feet. “Get on the bed.” He says, crossing over to the table to fetch the basin and cloth.

Izzy rises on unsteady legs, making it over to the bed and sitting down heavily. Stede sets the basin down next to the bed and pushes on Izzy’s chest until he’s lying back. Stede goes to work on him, using the damp cloth to clean the slick from his thighs and cunt. The drag of it on his oversensitive nub draws a whimper from him, but he’s too far gone to feel shame for it. Stede makes a soothing sound in the back of his throat, finishing up his work before climbing into the bed next to him.

He pulls Izzy against him and Izzy immediately shoves his nose into the crook of Stede’s neck, scenting him thoroughly. A stuttering purr rumbles up from his chest, unfamiliar but comfortable. He curls up against the Alpha, hoping the noise will be enough to convey his thanks. He no longer feels off-kilter, and he can feel the tug of sleep softening his edges until it pulls him under. He’s vaguely aware of Stede pulling the blanket over both of them, but he’s out like a snuffed candle before much else can register.

#Pitch Black #SteddyHands #Stizzy #technically this is just Stizzy for now #but eventually.... #im steddyhands trash so #u know #ABO dynamics #up in this bitch #so beware of that if you haven't ready Pitch Black

[ourflagmeansgayrights]

mutuals i am so so sorry. but i am going to make a stizzy post

#mine #just one. and then never again #ok like Technically if u think abt it tho. ive made stizzy/steddyhands posts before #those half-joking posts where i complain that ppl who ship it get the stede/izzy dynamic wrong? ive made one or two of those #bc like i DONT ship it. and also i dont look for content of it #but randomly i see fanart or posts and im like ''damn u guys took all the fun out of stede and izzy'' #bc they ARE fun. they fucking despise each other out of nowhere for NO REASON and it's fucking hilarious #i just personally dont like izzy enough to actually want to look for content that gets it right #but i reblogged a post that was like ''izzy and stede would be so mad at themselves for falling in love'' bc it was rlly funny #and it gave me an Idea #and now im making a stizzy post #like an Actual stizzy post not just whining abt how ppl make stede nice to izzy and it sucks #mutuals i hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me one day

[iris-writesx]

spineless in my tomb of silence | stede x izzy

read it here, or read it on ao3 <3

so… i don’t really know what this is. originally it was just supposed to be about izzy slaying at music but then my obsession with stizzy kicked in and here you go LMFAO. i love love LOVE their dynamic, and i love dipping into izzy’s character because he’s so complex and interesting to write.

thank you, as well, to everyone who’s been reading and liking my work so far! it means a lot.

title is from “the great war” by taylor swift x

2.2k words — hurt-comfort, izzy having self worth issues, post canon (technically)

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The raid was Stede’s idea to begin with.

Izzy for the life of him couldn’t understand why he wanted to. Sure, he had been helping the Captain — the completely useless Captain, mind you — grow his piracy skills for a good few weeks now, and whilst he had grown decent at swordplay and okay-ish at hand-to-hand combat — Izzy had to force Stede to even attempt to hit him — he didn’t see why the raid was important.

The crew were all weary. The last raid they had been on as a product of Stede’s eagerness had ended in them all thinking his new coat was cursed.

Izzy didn’t believe in curses, of course. It was folklore, stories made up to scare children into behaving.

But if curses did exist — not that he believed it, but if they did — he would assume that the only cursed thing on The Revenge was himself.

It had just been one bad thing after another. Being invisible to Blackbeard- Ed, getting completely overtaken by Stede, losing his dignity, losing his leg. He supposed that it was all his fault, really. He shouldn’t have fed Edward’s darkness like that, he should have been… better. For him.

But Izzy didn’t care. Of course he didn’t. He just swallowed through the lump in his throat — the one he could never completely swallow down, nor get rid of — and carried on.

He certainly didn’t care about Stede and his fucking antics.

This fucking raid.

“Izzy!” He heard Stede yell from wherever he had ran off to on the ship they were boarding. “Come help me grab some of this loot- ooh, a vase!”

Why hadn’t he killed that twat when he had the chance?

—

There hadn’t been much of value on the ship to begin with. Their crew had been passive, surrendering before anybody had a chance to even draw their swords, and whilst it wasn’t quite the thrill that Stede had been searching for, he’d been happy enough to nick whatever he wanted from the vessel.

Which, it turned out, wasn’t even a lot anyways. After Izzy had forbidden him from taking their books — “Why not?” “Because The Revenge is not a fucking library, Bonnet.” — all he had taken was some silverware, any money that had been left lying around, and a guitar.

Izzy had insisted that they didn’t need it, there were plenty of instruments — albeit mostly in shambles — in the rec room, but he refused to let go of it as he boarded back onto The Revenge.

“It’s just taking up unnecessary space,” Izzy had rolled his eyes as he followed Stede onto the ship, his pace unable to match Stede’s with his fucking prosthetic. “Bonnet-”

“Izzy, hey,” Edward had caught his shoulder, holding him in place. Where Izzy would’ve naturally bit out at anybody who touched him to let go, he kept his mouth shut. It was Ed. “Let him have his fun, man.”

So Izzy had done just that. Let Stede have his fucking fun. Sod it that he was the one who was supposed to be showing Stede the ropes, now he was supposed to just let him do whatever he wanted? Keep a useless fucking guitar?

God, sometimes he wanted to retire.

Stede couldn’t even play. Izzy knew this, because the next time he had found himself in the Captain’s quarters, the guitar had been stood next to one of the many display cases in the room, just to be admired.

The body of the Baroque was painted black, with intricate little details chipped into the wood that he hadn’t noticed until then. Izzy didn’t know why the thing irritated him so much, but it did.

He wanted to throw it overboard.

“She’s a beauty, isn’t she?” Stede commented, having caught Izzy staring. “I was right to keep her. Not many men can appreciate the fine things in life, especially one like this bor- oh what’s the word-”

“Baroque.” Izzy murmured without thinking, and then Stede’s eyes were on him, wide and shocked. Like he hadn’t expected Izzy to have any knowledge of one of the fine things in life. Of course, Izzy had almost forgotten that he knew. It had been a few lifetimes ago, now, that he could picture himself sat on the porch of his family’s crooked little house. His fingers pressing into the strings of the Baroque as his mother showed him-

He could practically feel the ring against his throat burning. He wanted to break the guitar. He wanted to throw up.

“Yes, baroque,” Stede nodded slowly, his scrutinizing look fading slowly as his thoughts appeared to clear up, remembering what was more important at hand. “Anyways, what did you need me for, Izzy?”

—

The guitar had sat untouched for four days, and Izzy felt like his skin was crawling.

It was stupid, so incredibly so, that an object held so much over his head — Maybe, he thought, I’m not the only cursed thing on the ship anymore — but it was all he could think about when he had no more work for the day. When the rest of the crew was sat eating dinner, chatting away, Izzy’s mind wandered to that fucking guitar. Well, more specifically the memories he was associating with it — the memories that he had buried so deep down that he had forgotten they had even been there in the first place.

It didn’t help that Stede kept bragging about it. Even Edward had mentioned how nice the guitar looked, and what the fuck did he know?

It shouldn’t have been stressing him out so much. The fact that it was left him even more stressed.

And by the fourth day, he couldn’t fucking take it anymore.

He had waited until both Stede and Ed were on deck, and before either of them could see him he slipped away beneath deck as gracefully as he could with a wooden prosthetic attached to his leg. The door was unlocked, and Izzy reminded himself to add security to the list of things that he was teaching Stede. Even if the door had been locked, though, Izzy had picked enough locks in his time that he could do it blindfolded. It was just lucky for him that Stede was so useless sometimes.

What Ed saw in him sometimes he didn’t know… or that was what he told himself. Because he did know. He tried very very hard not to, but he did.

He pushed the door closed behind him and crossed the room, over towards it. Izzy hated the way his hand trembled slightly as he reached for it, lifting the guitar by the neck, and the ring around his neck — his mother’s ring — felt like it was burning again as he shuffled backwards to sit on the edge of the sofa. The curve of the guitar sat perfectly against his thigh, the fretboard easily resting against his hand.

Izzy’s throat felt thick, the ghost of his mother’s hands gliding over his, guiding him where to go, just like she had done when he was a child.

It took some minutes of fumbling before he fell into the groove of it. He hadn’t touched a guitar in years, hadn’t played in even longer. He used to know more, he used to be better, but as his fingers slid up the fretboard, his other hand plucking at the strings, it felt almost… natural. It felt good.

He felt good.

There had been a handful of songs that his mother had taught him, back then. Back when he was still pure, when he wasn’t cursed. As the cave inside of him opened more and more, light seeping into the depths and allowing him to see further, he could remember that his mother was a beautiful singer. That she would show him songs and sing them, and how he had ever forgotten those moments was a curse within itself.

Of course, it had been so long, and he hadn’t thought about it in so long, that he couldn’t really remember those songs. But he did start singing. Softly, under his breath, as his fingers strummed at the strings. It was just an old sea shanty, one that Ed was particularly fond of. His usually gruff voice felt soft. Words that usually had so much venom beneath them when they were spat out held gentleness, instead. It was a foreign feeling, after being cold for so long. After not letting himself have it. But warmth was nice.

He deserved it, didn’t he? Even after all that he had done?

Boots were knocking against the wooden floor, and the moment was shattered so quickly Izzy could question if it had ever even been there in the first place.

In the moment between the noise and looking up to see who had walked into the room, in that fraction of a moment, Izzy found himself wishing it was Ed. Maybe Ed would recognise the song, maybe he’d be, well, impressed.

He could only hope.

But Izzy looked up, and of course it wasn’t Ed. Why would the universe be that kind to him?

“Izzy,” Stede breathed out, and he grit his teeth, preparing for the lecture about touching his guitar. But the lecture never came. Instead, he just continued to stare. “I didn’t know you could play, and your voice. Of course, I thought on Calypso’s birthday you’d just gotten a little, y’know, wasted. But that was great.”

Izzy’s skin was itching again. Stede was staring at him so… so fiercely that it actually felt like he was seeing him. It felt odd, it felt different, and he didn’t like it.

Where did he go from here? There was no point in lying about what he had been doing. Of course, he could just be cold and blow Stede off, but… Izzy had never let anybody see that side of himself. Not even Ed, and he had known him for decades. What Stede had seen was personal.

…of fucking course it was Stede.

Izzy clenched his jaw, and although his body was screaming at him to accept the warmth, to step into it instead of away from it for once, he stood and walked to put the guitar back where it belonged. “You need to start locking your door, Bonnet.”

When Izzy turned back to see Stede he looked almost disappointed. “Izzy-”

“What?” He spat, face screwing into a glare. A defence.

Undeserving. Unworthy. Not meant for him.

“That really was beautiful,” Stede edged closer, and whilst Izzy stiffened, he stayed where he was. “Why did you never mention that you could play? Frenchie plays all the time!”

“It’s not f-” his voice shook and he quickly inhaled, fingers screwing into fists at his sides. “It’s not fucking important.”

“Of course it’s important! It’s art! One of the f-”

“One of the finer things in life, I know,” Izzy bit out, and although his tone was cold, Stede smiled. “It doesn’t matter, Stede.”

Stede was edging closer again, and although everything in Izzy was screaming to not accept the kindness, he froze when Stede reached forwards to wrap his fingers around his wrist. They were so warm and so gentle that Izzy, for a brief moment, wanted to feel more. The warmth — the warmth he never allowed himself to have — felt so nice. Stede was holding his wrist and smiling at him and he liked his playing and- fuck, Izzy thought he might just drop dead there and then.

“I think it matters.” Stede urged, his voice softer within their lessened proximity, but still just as genuine.

Maybe he really did mean it.

Izzy swallowed, thickly, trying to shove the lump down again.

It wasn’t going anywhere.

“…fuck off, Bonnet.” His words were whispered, the venom behind them dissipating into nothing, and Stede just smiled again.

How had he managed to make him so helpless? What did that mean?

“You’re welcome to use it any time you’d like,” Stede finally let go of his wrist, and Izzy could breathe a little easier. “The guitar. I certainly won’t use it, so somebody should.”

Izzy opened his mouth to protest, to tell Stede where he could shove his guitar and where he could go, but no sound came out. His mouth closed, and he simply nodded.

“Was there anything else you wanted me for this evening, Israel?”

That certainly was a loaded question after everything that had just happened, and on top of everything else if he let himself spiral over his thoughts for Stede he might just die, so Izzy shook his head, still unable to find his voice again.

“Alright, then. Goodnight Izzy.” If the fingers around his wrist had been bad, then Stede leaning in to kiss his cheek caused hell to freeze over. Izzy stiffened, face flaming, and after a moment of staring at Stede he choked out his own goodnight before he made a beeline for the door, slammed it shut behind him.

His breathing was quick and deep as he pressed his back to the door, and with his cheek still burning with the memory of Stede’s lips, Izzy knew deep down that it had been nice.

But even if it was nice, did he deserve it?

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comments would mean the world <3 requests are open!

#our flag means death #our flag means death fanfic #our flag means fanfic #ofmd #ofmd fanfic #ofmd izzy #ofmd stede #stizzy #stede bonnet x izzy hands #stede bonnet #izzy hands

[theorderofthetriad]

Why I love Stizzy (or Gentlehands, if you're fancy)

Few days ago someone asked Stizzy Steddyhands and Edizzy shippers why they shipped these pairings, and I wrote the following. OP of that post never responded to the many people who wrote out thoughtful replies, and I just now saw some hateful vitrol someone was sent for shipping stizzy, so let me share with you all what i wrote on why I love stizzy:

I have to start by pointing out people will start shipping things for different reasons. Shipping is always going to be a different strokes situation, we all interpret things differently and want different things from fiction. i can explain my own tastes, but there's no guarantee i can get you to... well, get it. Like I can wax poetic about how much i love garlic, but if i'm talking to someone who hates the taste of garlic what i say isn't going to change how garlic tastes, y'know? We're tasting the same garlic with different tongues.

So for me the foundation on which most of my ships are built is humor. If i find their dynamic (or the idea of their dynamic in the case of two separate ships of characters who have never interacted in their canons) funny, i'm more likely to start shipping it, and then i'll potentially get very obsessive and read far too into it (see: icon.) Now for me, stizzy (or gentlehands if you're fancy) still exists mostly in a place of humor, which makes sense with canon because this is a comedy show. I've gotten intense about it in the sense that I've read into the way the show has depicted their interactions and i think they're sexually charged.

if you're looking at it from a certain angle, it's pretty easy to read Izzy and Stede as two guys who are horny for each other and mad about it. I made a whole post about Izzy having a reluctant crush on Stede, and then another whole post about Stede being horny on sight for Izzy, and then I made a whole* ass porn fic that was just a not-so-cleverly disguised meta on the previously mentioned Izzy-has-a-crush-on-Stede reading.

*ok technically 1/3rd ass porn fic because i've only posted the first of three chapters, and, look, i swear i've been meaning to update, but then i got really distracted by... *glances at icon* sorry DX (UPDATE: I am going to post chapter 2 on January 31st or so fucking help me.)

To summarize/build on the links: there was a lot of sexual tension in Izzy and Stede's first encounter. If we're working with the stabbing=sex metaphor we can read it as Stede sticking his dick in Izzy's face and making him submit. Stede has been established to be obsessed with pirates, and Izzy is the first cool pirate in charge of things we see Stede encounter, and Stede is so fucking hype about how it went that it helps him get over killing the first badminton twin (at least until it gets brought up again.)

And from then on the way Stede acts towards Izzy is far more aggressive than he treats any other character, even though the aggression right out of the gate at Jackie's bar is frankly undeserved. I think the aggression is Stede's misplaced arousal that he is not yet able to recognize (honestly if stizzy became canon it could be a matter of Ed undid Stede's obliviousness to his romantic love for men, and Izzy undoes Stede's obliviousness to his sexual desire for men.) Stede's an improv guy and he's unintentionally doing a "yes, and" flirtation with Izzy and matching Izzy's "badass pirate" energy because he finds it sexy.

Meanwhile Izzy can be read as pretty submissive, and in that first encounter Stede sticks a knife in his face and makes him submit to his demands. Like at the end of their first interaction Izzy doesn't even look mad (considering the anger we've seen from Izzy in the following episodes) he almost looks a little amused. Then Izzy tells Stede "this isn't over" and Stede responds "good because i kind of enjoyed it." like they're planning a second date or some shit! We don't see Izzy get truly annoyed at Stede until Ed shows interest in him. I think Izzy thought of Stede as a hot one off adversary he was gonna [REDACTED] while thinking about that night and then he wakes up the next morning with post-nut clarity and new orders to go find Stede and bring him to Blackbeard. Then suddenly Izzy is pretty pissy about Stede Bonnet.

As for how i envision them in the show's future... i mean this is fanon content and again, see: icon, i very much do not ship things solely on their strong basis in canon. i start shipping things based on funny vibes and then work backwards from there. like, for 18 years now i've shipped two characters whose closest interaction was that they stood next to each other for the duration of a single chapter. I don't need to think a ship would work in canon for that ship to work for me.

Also how close a ship will get to being canon is just not the metric anyone should use to measure how much they enjoy a ship. cautionary tale: as a tween i experienced way too much of the ATLA shipping wars and the way people would harass others over which ship was gonna be canon. my major takeaway from that was that that was a miserable way to ship, and that the "victory" of your ship being canon and theirs not being canon is not rewarding when the only reason you shipped that ship was because you thought it was going to be canon endgame. You will be much happier if you ship something because you like the dynamics of the ship and the experience of shipping it rather than if you like a ship because it is or you think it is going to be the endgame ship.

all that being said, i do actually think stizzy could totally happen in canon, because like i said: stizzy is funny and this is a comedy show. they already have the foundation that can easily be read as horny-for-the-other-and-hates-him-about-it. at one point i literally joked that i wanted them to become canon by getting into a fistfight that turns into a make-out that turns back into a fistfight and then they never speak of it. honestly it'd be fucking hilarious. But also considering Izzy got straight up maimed at the end of the last season, a more serious/genuine romance does not seem impossible, just highly unlikely.

For fun things that make me enjoy this ship: here is an audio post of the moment where Stede whispers "because i kind of enjoyed it" at Izzy after their initial meeting. Here's Stede seeing Izzy for the first time. I've described Izzy as being a "Helga Pataki type" about Stede and made a whole meme image series about it. There's Con O'Neil saying that Izzy thought Stede looked really good at the end of his sword (bonus! i asked that question at eccc! <-braggart.) Also you can read the curtain scene as Izzy being Stede's muse. There's something to be said about the framing of this shot. This gifset of Izzy looking at Stede (2nd gif and the last 2 gifs especially, wow.) Here's a compilation of Stede being a bitchy motherfucker to Izzy (bonus! in the tags you can see the gears in my head turning on the train of thought that led me to the "stede is horny for izzy" hypothesis) Here's just a funny post. And another funny post. And another funny post. Here's this post that isn't ofmd related at all but when it came across my dash all of the recent tags on it were like "stizzy" or "the stede and izzy duel" and they're absolutely correct. I'll half-jokingly call this their flirting compilation.

Additionally, while I'm not huge enough on ed/izzy and steddyhands to write about it like i did for stizzy, i do think there's something to be said (that i did already say) about how Ed seemed pretty obsessed with Stede before ever even meeting him simply based on Izzy's description of him, and how he "bested [Izzy] at swordplay" and like... guys is it normal to fall in love with someone you've never met because they made your first mate submit in a fight?? is that a normal, nonsexual, way to think about your first mate?

#stizzy #gentlehands #izzy hands #stede bonnet #ofmd #our flag means death #top tino post #santagno

[napneeders]

thinking about asymmetric steddyhands in two ways

(this one is angstier) it'd be nice to pretend all sides of the triangle are equally important but at least initially like. ed/stede would be absolutely fine without izzy but ed/izzy would be a disaster without Stede and stede/izzy might work out if Ed never existed but if he does and they lost him that would also be ugly or just expire.

where they think all sides of the relationship have to look the same until they learn that's not how it works. e.g. Ed and Stede love to be glued at the hip while izzy likes more space but maybe he almost suffocates himself trying to match that energy, whether because he worries he'll be left out or because Ed and/or Stede worry he doesn't love them, etc. or Ed and Izzy have their working together seamlessly without words thing (now that they've mended their rift and all) and Stede tries to emulate that but even if he technically can do that (now that he knows them both well enough and all) his thing is still talking about things actually. idk what the stizzy thing Ed tries to match is I guess that depends on the iteration a lot like maybe Stede and izzy have some insane bdsm game going on and it takes time for Ed to realize his participation can just be reaping the horny fruits or something (this is the iteration where Ed is like I do enjoy domming Izzy but thank god Stede is picking up the slack (and also domming me))

#steddyhands #scenarios on the brain

[izzy-b-hands]

1V

Doing a little mini Vampire AU thing with Izzy and Ed and everyone else. Not sure how many after this one, but we'll see. No titles, just numbering these. Thus far shipwise: stizzy, a hint of potential blackhands, with more to be revealed if I actually get all of this written. No guarantee, but I'm gonna try my damnedest.

TW blood, mentions of violence, sex.

---

"Well, I asked for the other type, didn't I?" Ed tosses the bag of blood to his feet. A dark red stain crosses the floor with it.

"This was all I could get," Izzy sighs, and picks the bag of O negative off the floor. "I asked for others, but people aren't donating as often-"

"And that's my problem how? There are other hospitals in town, Iz. We've been over this," Ed scoffs, then sighs. "Sorry. Just hungry."

"I know," Izzy says softly, and rolls up the sleeve of his black button up shirt.

"You don't have to do that," Ed says at the sight. "I'm being bitchy because I'm hungry, but you don't have to-"

He gives Ed a fierce look. Ed never asks for it but Ed never has. Never will. That doesn't mean Izzy doesn't know what's expected of him.

He hisses at the slip of Ed's fangs into the thin skin of his wrist. His most preferred spot, which Ed remembered. Easier to hide later, both from others and himself. Two tiny marks, but an enormous reminder that once again he's a walking blood bag, a loyal familiar, but not tasty or loyal enough to drain and finally turn.

He often wonders which of the two factors is the bigger reason why Ed won't turn him. He knows he'll probably never find out.

"I should stop," Ed lifts his head from Izzy's wrist. "Your legs are shaking. Come sit here, at least."

He falls beside Ed on the ornate black velvet couch. "What else needs doing that I've missed?"

Ed frowns, in between the licking of his lips. "We can talk about that later. Let's get you cleaned up first."

Ed yanks the first aid kit from under the couch, but Izzy takes it from him right away.

Ed hasn't done this part for him in years. He doesn't expect him to start again now.

"In a bad mood?" Ed asks testily.

Izzy bites the inside of his mouth. Yes, he sort of is. The whole day has been shit, and the last thing he wanted was Ed angry over this food delivery.

Instead, he shakes his head as he cleans up his wrist. "Sorry, boss. Bit tired, think it's starting to show."

"I think it is too," Ed says. "Don't worry about the rest of the day's tasks. It's almost night anyway, go to bed and sleep the attitude off."

Izzy finishes the last bit of disinfectant, and mentally notes they need more.

"Izzy."

"I know, I will," Izzy says. "Thank you, Ed. Sorry again about the blood. It won't happen again tomorrow."

He means it. He already threatened the lab tech this night, and it wouldn't be the first one he's killed and hidden. Won't be the last either.

Before Ed can say anything else, he dips out the bedroom door, careful not to step on the smear of blood.

--

"Ask him to turn you then," Jack sighs dramatically. "I asked, and he turned me!"

"I'm aware, Jack," Izzy says, working to keep his tone even. He's never liked Jack all that much, but Ed does. And if Ed likes someone, then he'll deal with them being around for the most part.

"I wasn't even a familiar or anything, I was just the guy he was fucking!" Jack laughs hard, the sound on the video call going fuzzy. "And you've been with him for years now!"

"Technically since I was sixteen," Izzy confirms sadly. It's pathetic. Though at first, he didn't understand who the attractive man in the shitty looking house down the road was. But he seemed sad and looked drawn and gaunt often.

So Izzy, after a few days of thinking and watching and guessing, left a bag of captured rats and frogs on his porch. Rang the bell, then ran like hell.

From his hiding place in a nearby hedge, he had watched Ed immediately sink to his knees and drain a few of the creatures. Had it not been night and the street empty except for them, it would have been a disaster for Ed.

He kept that up for a few years after, whenever he snuck out at night to find Ed looking too hungry. Later, he would find out it was because there was a shortage of blood donations at the time, and Ed had lost his contact at the main hospital who usually kept him in blood.

When he was nineteen, the city started to fall apart even more. The second hospital closed, and the first regularly struggled to keep up with the need for blood. Their understaffing meant Ed couldn't keep a steady contact person either.

That was the year he asked if Ed needed or wanted a familiar, and offered himself up to give Ed enough strength to move elsewhere with him.

Ed took barely a sip from him, and instead showed him how it went when the victim was a living human.

Ed wept after, as they packed his things into his car. He didn't like killing. Not like that. Animals or other creatures he could stomach, they knew their nature as potential prey for another.

Humans did not. And even when they did, they did not understand it.

"Get your shit together, man," Jack shakes his head. "Maybe y'all need to move again, if the blood supply is that bad."

"It isn't terrible," Izzy insists. "His favourite types are harder to get, is all it is."

"Ask him," Jack says adamantly. "Worst he can do is say no."

--

"And what will we do for food then?" Ed scoffs. "Iz, I love you man, but sometimes you don't think!"

He badly wants to be dismissed, to go upstairs and call Jack and tell him to fuck off if he ever thinks to offer advice again in regards to Ed. He should have known better than to listen to Jack.

"I would find a new familiar for us first," Izzy says. "Give me a chance to look for one."

"You're missing the point," Ed mutters. "Izzy, what would I do without you?"

"I wouldn't have to leave you just because you'd have turned me," Izzy protests and he knows he's going too far. "I could stay, and help the new familiar. Wake right as the sun starts to go down, and make sure they have things ready for you."

Ed shakes his head and rolls his eyes, and Izzy can't help but see red.

"What is it then? At least give me a fucking reason why. Am I not good enough for it? You turned Jack, that fucking idi-"

He'd been gesturing with his hands while he talked, and Ed's caught one.

He holds Izzy's hand between both of his, a finger tracing up and down each of Izzy's fingers.

Izzy can hear his heart beating fast. He knows Ed can hear it too.

Ed flashes a grin, then bites down hard onto his hand. A fang goes right into the web by his thumb, and he yelps.

"Thought you wanted to be turned," Ed smirks. "Maybe not yet, eh, Iz?"

He watches Ed wander back upstairs, mouth covered in blood. Then he kicks the stove hard enough to make his foot ache.

--

He can't sleep, so he goes out. So what if Ed doesn't want a new familiar. Fuck him; Izzy will find him a new one, then find another vampire to turn him.

After that, he isn't sure.

The Revenge is a new bar, technically also a music venue. It's so small though that both bar patrons and concert attendees have no choice but to be one in the same.

"Hello!"

Izzy looks up to a chirping, cheerful face. "Hi, s-"

"Roach, let's get him a drinks menu!" the man calls down the bar. A blonde curl falls onto his forehead, and Izzy feels his heart speed up.

It slows a bit, as the exchange goes on. The man, Stede, is very pretty, kind. But he's overwhelming to Izzy right now, and he isn't sure he can handle it.

"Anything strong, very strong, just pour it in the biggest glass possible," Izzy cuts him off mid-drink explanation.

Stede's face falls. "Ah. A night like that?"

Izzy nods.

Roach is the one to slide down a glass of whiskey, then another, and another.

"Roach!" Stede laughs. "Let him finish one fir-oh, well, there went one. We are having a rough night, aren't we!"

Izzy slides the glass back Roach's way and nods. "Work issues. Nothing important."

"I don't know that," Stede says. "I opened this place up due to what some might think are unimportant issues!"

"He got divorced," Roach explains with a clap to Stede's back.

Izzy nods. "Rough nights all around then. Share with me?"

There are two glasses left. He can see the wheels in Stede's head turning. He knows he's asked him to do something unprofessional, maybe illegal in their city, he doesn't know.

Nor does he give a fuck. He wants to drink with this pretty man. He wants to ask him home, and to his bed. Woe be to Ed if he hears anything. Maybe he ought to go out at night too, now and again.

--

"Izzy, Izzzzzzy," Stede draws out his name and ends it in a kiss. "You taste like whiskey. I like it, but what do you taste like when you're not drunk?"

"You'll have to come home with me to find out," Izzy can hear himself slurring his words. "Unless you'd rather not. Most people don't want to. It's okay; I get it."

Stede kisses him again, hard, pressing him up against the brick wall behind the bar. "I want to find out."

They fumble back inside, to a grinning Roach and snickering house band. After about the third or fourth drink, they'd stopped hiding what they were working towards, and Roach had told Stede to just go sit by Izzy and drink.

From there, it had devolved to more sipping than chugging drinks, and finally the step outside for a breath of fresh air.

Stede was certainly that.

Which made it all the worse that he would be perfect for Ed.

--

They fall into Izzy's bed half-clothed, fumbling to get the rest off. Stede is unbelievably, adorably, eager.

Izzy can't recall the last time anyone was so eager to be close to him.

The doorknob rattles, and Izzy lets out a frustrated sigh. "In a moment!"

Stede's lips are on his neck and he doesn't want to move an inch, but Ed will not leave the fucking door alone.

He gives Stede a kiss before untangling himself from him and going to the bedroom door. "Ed?"

"You could let me know you were bringing someone home," Ed says tensely. "It'll be sunrise soon."

"I think Stede will wait while I help you get to bed," Izzy smiles. "Stede?"

Stede waves from the bed. "Hello!"

"Hi," Ed replies shortly. "That would be nice, since that's your job."

"This is your boss?!" Stede stumbles from the bed to stand behind Izzy. One hand wraps around his chest, the other slings lower to his waist, fingers playing with the zipper of his leather trousers. "You've been a real asshole to Izzy, you know that?"

Ed stares daggers at Stede. "Have I been? Enlighten me."

"He's live-in help, which most people don't have nowadays," Stede continues. "My family did. Well, they still do. I gave her the money and house and what not in the divorce. Anyway-"

He pauses to press a kiss to Izzy's neck, and Izzy has to fight back a grin.

"He's doing his best. That's all we can ask of each other, of anyone! But you're fussing over the dinner you wanted not being available and blah, blah, blah-"

"I don't think you understand the arrangement Izzy and I have," Ed interrupts him. "I could explain it to you, if you want to step into my room."

"Absolutely not," Izzy spits. He's not letting Ed eat his fucking one night stand. Especially when said one night stand could turn out to be more. "I'll help you to bed, Ed. Stede, you stay here and rest, yeah? If you need water, the kitchen is just downstairs."

"It's my kitchen and my water," Ed says.

"Oh fuck off," Izzy scoffs. "Enough, Ed. Come on, I said I'd get you ready for bed, and I meant it, because when fucking haven't I!"

He's aware he's shouting now, but there isn't enough reason to care.

Ed, however, seems to care a lot. "No. I'll take care of that myself, for now. But tomorrow night, we're having a talk."

"Fine," Izzy fumes. "Can I go get fucked now?"

"Do whatever you fucking want, mate," Ed grumbles and turns away.

"Sorry your sunlight allergy has made you such an asshole!" Stede shouts down after Ed. "We should get you out of here. You could come work for me."

"We can talk about that," Izzy says, dropping his head back onto Stede's shoulder for a moment. "Later, though. If you're still up, for-"

"Very much so," Stede smiles and kisses his cheek and Izzy's heart aches in his chest.

The door is shut and locked again and they fall back into bed, a softer and gentler tangle this time.

Gentle seems to be Stede's most common state of being, frankly. He refuses to rush any part of the experience, from a blowjob that nearly ends things early for Izzy to actually fucking.

"Have you and him ever..." Stede asks softly, mid-fuck, with Izzy in his lap.

Izzy shakes his head. "I'd like it. Wouldn't be very professional of me-"

"He's pretty enough I think anyone would break that veneer," Stede giggles. "I certainly don't blame you."

Izzy shifts his hips more and leans his head into Stede's shoulder.

"Sorry, that's probably not the thing to bring up now," Stede murmurs. "Izzy-"

"It's okay," Izzy cuts him off, lifting his head to kiss him. He runs his hands through the softest curls he's touched aside from Ed's, and moans into Stede's mouth.

There's no more talking, after that. Not about anything other than each other, at least.

--

In the morning, Stede stays and snuggles a bit. They have breakfast and exchange phone numbers, as well as offers to meet up again in a night or two.

"I know you probably feel you have to stay home tonight to get in his good graces," Stede says before he leaves. "I think you should be able to do as you want, but I'm just coming into all this now-"

"Could stay and do that again with me," Izzy interrupts. He can't help it. He doesn't really want him to go. He wants to be cuddled and kissed and fucked while Stede praises him up and down.

"If I didn't have a bar to get ready for tonight, I would," Stede smiles. "Maybe you can convince Ed to come with you! Then you'd get out, and he'd still have you on hand to pour wine down his throat for him, since I presume Mr. High and Mighty doesn't touch his own glass."

Izzy chuckles. "It's something like that. If nothing else, I'll call or text you, yeah?"

"That sounds perfect."

Izzy watches Stede walk away from the house, waving back when he does.

When he's far enough away, Izzy closes and locks the front door, then slips down it to sit on the hardwood floor.

He shouldn't be crying over someone he just met. He isn't a teenager anymore.

The tears come anyway.

#text post #vampire au #ofmd fic #stizzy #will add ship tags as they happen in the fic beyond seemingly unrequited love lol