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gonzo-rella · 2 years

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Talk It Through As A Crew (pt. 2) | Izzy Hands (ft. The (Reunited) Crew Of The Revenge)

MASTERLIST | AO3 | KO-FI

PART 1, PART 2

Requested by: Anon

I love your work!! If you still want ofmd requests… maybe a part two to “talk it through as a crew” where everyone gets back together and everything’s settled except for Izzy. Then reader confronts Izzy? They yell at him for abandoning them and maybe even throw a punch.

But Izzy doesn’t do anything. He doesn’t yell or try to stop them. Just takes it. That pulls reader out of their anger and they’re more concerned. They reach out to him, telling him they forgive him, and that’s when he does something.

He’s furious with himself for what happened and wants the reader to be mad at him, maybe if they took it out on him, he’d feel better.

Reader comforts him?

Just angst with a happy ending, please.

Relationship(s): Izzy Hands x gn!reader (romantic), Oluwande Boodhari, Lucius Spriggs and Stede Bonnet x gn!reader (platonic)

Summary: Somehow, everything is relatively back to normal. Well, everything except things between you and Izzy. Concerned that you’re bottling things up, Stede, self-appointed relationship therapist, suggests that you talk things through with Izzy, who (surprisingly) doesn’t protest.

Warnings: Intense (one-sided) arguing (like my parents pre-divorce), description of an injury (and the worsening of said injury). (Let me know if I need to add any)

Word count: 3.1k

(A/N: To quote my post-season 1 finale Blackbonnet x reader one-shot, this fic reaches ‘‘somehow, Palpatine returned’ levels of me not explaining how on Earth we got here’. I took some creative liberties with this request, though it’s quite faithful to the request, I’d say. That previous statement isn’t to say I don’t ever take creative liberties with requests. Creative Liberties is my middle name- my full legal name is Soph Creative Liberties Writesfanfic. Also, Lucius is alive (as he should be). Anyway, I hope you guys enjoy this!)

“Doesn’t look broken.” Roach shrugged, holding your wrist as he examined your hand.

“Fucking feels it.” you hissed out through gritted teeth.

“I doubt it’s broken. Maybe a bit fucked up, but not broken.” Olu (the one who had escorted you to the galley) tried. He patted you on the shoulder. His noticeable veneer of calmness wasn’t lost on you; you could tell how concerned he actually was. “No offence, but punching really isn’t your strong suit.”

You probably would have laughed if you weren’t in total agony.

“I’ll just clean your hand, bandage it up- should be fine.” Roach said nonchalantly. “If you need to punch something, you should probably use the other hand. For a while, at least.”

“Or, maybe hold off on the punching entirely.” Olu quickly suggested.

“If they’ve gotta punch, they’ve gotta punch, man.”

With that, Roach went to gather the supplies he needed, leaving you and Oluwande by yourselves.

He cleared his throat.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m pretty good, considering I just punched the rock-solid bloody mast.”

“I meant… well, you obviously didn’t just deck it for no reason, did you?” He looked at you with worry in his eyes. “Did anything bring it on?”

“I made eye contact with him for too long.” you admitted. “I don’t think I’ve got any tears left in me. So, I didn’t know what else to do to get out the… rage and other feelings.”

“Alright.” Olu nodded.

He paused and glanced between your hand and your pained face.

“I get why you’ve been giving him the cold shoulder for all this time- I really do. I’m actually surprised you haven’t, like, hit him or yelled at him or anything yet. Well, aside from when you kicked him in the shin when we first got back.” Olu stated. “But, I don’t think avoiding him and ignoring him’s doing you any good.”

He used his head to gesture to your hand, thus punctuating his point. You bit your lip.

“I think you should speak to him.”

You clenched your jaw.

“He doesn’t give a shit about what I have to say.” you muttered. “I think he made that perfectly clear when he marooned me.

“And besides,” you went on. “He already apologised to us. What else can I expect him to do? Get on his knees and beg for forgiveness?”

The thought of Izzy grovelling at your feet was more disconcerting than cathartic considering his usual demeanour, though you couldn’t say you entirely disapproved of the idea. Still, you couldn’t really expect it; he would barely (and begrudgingly) do it for Ed, but not you. It’s not like he deserted Ed on an island, after all…

“Exactly.” Olu answered. “That’s why you need to do something.”

Blinking away your tears, you shook your head. Finally, you glanced up at Olu.

“I'll just… not punch anything again.” you said weakly. Your gaze fell back down to your hand. “I’ll get over it.”

━━━━━━━━━

While Roach scrubbed at the blood on your hand, Lucius stepped cautiously into the kitchen.

“Just to warn you, Captain Bonnet wants you when you’re done with this.”

He approached you and cringed upon seeing your hand.

“Oh, that’s not good.” he commented.

“Thanks for the observation, Dr Spriggs.” you retorted dryly. “Remind me to seek your expert medical opinion the next time I get injured.”

You knitted your brows when you noticed him anxiously wringing his hands. That paired with the lack of a biting response and a glare alerted you to the fact that something was amiss. Perhaps he didn’t have the heart to fight back (which was so unlike him, you thought). You suspected it had something to do with his announcement.

“What is it?” you practically whined.

He swallowed his saliva.

“Um,” he faltered. He scratched his face. “It’s just… I really don’t think you’re going to like what the Captain has planned.”

“I rarely do.”

“I mean it.” Lucius insisted.

The grave look in his eyes near enough sent a chill down your spine.

“Lucius…” Oluwande said suspiciously.

“I can’t say what it is.” Lucius stated adamantly. “Y/N won’t come, otherwise.”

“I could just not go anyway.”

“Everyone else is going to be there!”

You looked at him incredulously. Immediately, he realised that he had fucked up. In any other situation, you supposed the fear of missing out would have compelled you to attend. That said, you had to wonder what in the world possessed him to think that that would be a selling point given the circumstances.

“So, there’s going to be an audience for this thing?”

“Well, Captain Bonnet told them to go away, but everyone wants to watch. There wasn’t much he could do.”

Picking up on your decreasing desire to leave the galley, Lucius folded his arms and sighed.

“He really wants you to go.”

You took in a deep breath and closed your eyes.

Stede was the one who rescued you from the island. Without him, you’d more than likely be dead, so, ever since he saved you, you felt indebted to him. The least you could do to repay him was this one thing, even if you were going into it knowing that you were in for a miserable ride, right? From the way Lucius was talking about whatever this was, you guessed you’d probably come out of it wishing Stede just left you to die.

“Tell him we’ll be up in a minute,” you caved in. “But, I can’t promise I won’t throw myself overboard.”

━━━━━━━━━

When you, Roach and Olu arrived on the main deck, most of your crewmates were leaning against the railing in a faux-nonchalant manner. It seemed as though they’d been told to pretend that they weren’t anticipating your arrival with bated breath. Your cheeks burned beneath all of their stares. Oluwande patted you on the back and retreated to Jim’s side, while Roach joined Frenchie and Wee John.

Your throat felt tight when your eyes landed on the only two who weren't situated on the sidelines: Stede and… Izzy. The latter of the pair stood there with folded arms. You were surprised they didn’t have to tie him up.

You looked to Stede expectantly, awaiting an explanation you were sure you could figure out for yourself.

“You need to sort things out with Izzy.”

Izzy shrugged him off when Stede clapped a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry I decked the mast, alright?” you blurted. “But, there’s nothing to sort out. He left, like, half of us for dead on an island, and it was a beyond shitty thing to do. That’s it.”

“We all… know, Y/N,” Stede admitted. “And it’s okay! I promise. This is a safe space.”

You froze. You were well aware that the other six who had been marooned with you knew about your feelings, but everyone else? You glanced around. Everyone awkwardly averted their gaze.

“Y/N?” Stede asked. He approached you, brows furrowed in concern, and rested a hand on your shoulder.

“That confession was supposed to die with me on that island he left us on.”

Stede gently seized your forearm and dragged you closer to Izzy, who was watching you with an unreadable expression; you stared back at him with wide, uncertain eyes. You swallowed your saliva and shook your head. Stede held you in place so that you were only a couple of feet away from the man you least wanted to see.

“Stede, I’m not- this is mortifying!”

“Come on, Y/N.” Stede insisted. He backed away. “Say what you need to say.”

“I don’t need to say anything.”

“You punched the mast because you looked at him, mate!” Olu argued. “You said yourself that you’re full of rage and… other feelings- now’s your chance to let it out without fucking up another part of your body.”

“You could punch him with the hand that isn’t broken.” Jim suggested.

Olu sighed and sent them a disapproving look.

You inadvertently mirrored Izzy’s stance by folding your arms, then looked down at your feet as you shifted uncomfortably.

“I’m not punching him.”

“Can I punch him?” Black Pete requested hopefully.

Not bothering to dignify his plea with a response, you rolled your eyes and looked at Stede.

“Don’t you think this is a bit pointless?” you asked. “It was a complete dick move for him to leave us on the sodding island, but it’s not his problem that…”

“Go on.” Stede prompted.

“That my… feelings were hurt.” you reluctantly admitted through gritted teeth.

“Alright- we’re getting somewhere!” Stede rejoiced, clasping his hands.

You finally looked at Izzy again.

“This’d be a really good time for you to insult this whole exercise and storm off.” you commented bitterly.

It was the first time you’d spoken to him in the three weeks you’d been back.

He just stared blankly at you, a stoic expression settled on his face. You glared at him.

“Nothing? Really? You’re going to go with ‘nothing’? Fucking typical!” you fumed. “You-you abandoned me in the middle of the fucking ocean and all I got was one lousy apology three weeks ago and jackshit else!”

When he displayed no visible reaction, you chewed your tongue irritably. An exhale escaped your nostrils.

“We’ve known each other for years, and this is still all I get?” you ranted, your voice cracking slightly. “I thought, after all this time, I’d be worth at least something to you, but I’m not even worth not being left for dead, and I’m barely worth a fucking explanation!”

Nothing. Again. Though you bit your lip, you were unable to contain another trembling huff. Tears built in your eyes, but you were too emotional to be embarrassed. Not only that but you guessed most, if not all, of the spectators were on your side (and desperate for you to tear into Izzy).

“I don’t know if I’m more of an idiot for feeling anything for you in the first place or not being able to fucking stop.”

The tears began to spill, prompting you to avert your gaze. You absently massaged your injured knuckles.

“I don’t even have the sense to hate you.” you continued, your voice now significantly quieter. “I thought I did. I really thought you’d managed to do it. But, when we got back to the ship I saw you and I realised... you can fuck me over, and I can hate that… but not you.”

You looked back up at him and were met with that same stony expression.

“Fucking say something, Iz!”

Nope.

“I deserve at least something.” you said, your voice a mixture feeble yet furious. “I know we weren’t exactly ‘friends’, but we were whatever the equivalent of ‘friends’ is for miserable pricks who are too embarrassed to consider people ‘friends’. I mean, that’s why I defended you whenever these guys’d get pissed off at you for being a dick.”

You paused expectantly. Unfortunately, you were (once again) disappointed. You groaned and marched towards him, closing the gap between the two of you. The crew leaned forward in anticipation, the majority of them appearing too excited about what they thought was going to happen. Without thinking, you struck Izzy’s chest with the palm of your injured hand, not bothering to meet his gaze or check for any sign of pain on his face (you guessed your efforts were in vain). You then balled up your hand into a fist and slammed it into his chest again. Part of you doubted it actually hurt him, which was why you decided to continue. You wouldn’t admit that you didn’t really want to hurt him. From the sidelines, you heard some satisfied muttering.

“Say something!” you demanded, interrupted by a series of sobs. You continued slamming your hand into his chest. Another series of sobs escaped your lips, while tears of frustration and pain leaked from your eyes. “Fucking say something! Stop giving me nothing after everything I’ve given you! Just… give me something!”

“Y/N,” Stede hesitated. When you didn’t look at him, he stepped forward. “I don’t think that’s very good for your hand-”

“Fuck my hand! What’s a bit more fucking pain?”

Without saying anything for roughly ten seconds, you hit Izzy in the chest with increased frequency and intensity (still not enough to injure him).

“Say… something…” you croaked.

Slowly but surely, everything- the slamming, the sobbing, the speaking- came to a stop. You rested your hand on Izzy’s chest.

Finally, you dared to look up at his face. It was the same as before- hard, unbothered. However, when you locked eyes with him, you discovered something else.

“I-Iz?”

Your voice was soft and pained, just like Izzy’s eyes.

After a moment of consideration, you cleared your throat and (without looking at Stede) declared, “I’m borrowing your cabin.”

“Oh. Alright.” Stede agreed, albeit with confusion and mild concern.

You grabbed Izzy’s wrist and began dragging him to the aforementioned location.

“Don’t fall for it, Y/N!” Lucius protested. “I’ve been given that look so many times, and not once did any of them mean it.”

“I’m not off to shag him, Lucius.” you huffed, not bothering to stop.

“Oh. Right. That’s fine then.”

When you arrived in the cabin, you let go of Izzy’s wrist. You weren’t completely sure of what you were going to say, but you knew it wasn’t a conversation that should’ve taken place in front of the whole crew (not that you had wanted their audience before).

Wordlessly, you looked up at him as you considered what you wanted to say and how you wanted to say it.

“What you did was fucked, Iz. Completely and utterly fucked.” you began, sniffling and furiously swiping at your tears. “But… I know you’re actually sorry because you let that whole thing out there happen without killing me or Stede.”

You bit your lip and, hesitantly, placed your hand on his shoulder.

“It’s not okay, but… I can forgive you for it.”

Relaxing beneath your touch, he let out a trembling sigh.

“And,” you added hastily. “I’m sorry for hitting you. It hurt me more than it hurt you, literally, but still… you don’t hit people that you… y’know.”

“You don’t leave them for dead, either.” he muttered. “Don’t apologise.”

He watched you silently, unable to tell if you’d managed to pick up on the significance of his words.

“I don’t want you to forgive me for my sake.” Izzy insisted. “I only want you to do it for yours.”

“Trust me, Iz,” you sighed, lifting up your damaged hand. “This is for me.”

He stared at it. His breath hitched in his throat. You felt him grow tense once again.

“You shouldn’t ‘ve done that.”

“I know.” you answered lightheartedly, removing your hand from his shoulder to massage the injured one in an attempt to soothe the pain. “Fucking kills.”

“No. I meant you… should’ve just punched me instead.”

“Probably.”

Izzy went silent.

“I’m kidding, Iz.” you reassured him.

“I’m not."

“Iz…”

You reached out to grab his arm but he recoiled.

“I don't deserve this.”

“Deserve what?”

“Things going back to how they were before.” Izzy replied. “You should still be pissed off at me, not forgiving me and apologising to me and joking around like everything’s alright.”

You sighed.

“I know everything isn’t alright. It probably won’t be completely alright for a while.” you stated. “But, I’m feeling kinda better now, after saying all of my shit- it’s like we’re a step closer to ‘alright’.”

After an uncertain pause, you timidly asked: “Could you… say something, please?”

Izzy ran his hand over his face. He knew exactly what you meant, and he was surprised that he’d managed to avoid explicitly expressing it.

“You mean the world to me.” he confessed. “I didn’t show it when I left you for dead, but that’s how I feel.”

“Why’d you do it, Iz?”

He hesitated.

“The idea of loving you still absolutely fucking terrifies me. I had a chance to push you away for good when I was gonna get rid of the rest of the crew anyway, and I took it. I know it’s a shit explanation-”

“I get it.” you interrupted. “It’s not a great reason to leave someone for dead. Of course I don’t agree with it- I get it, though.”

Izzy swallowed his saliva and observed you. He was deliberating, you guessed. That’s why you patiently awaited his next words.

“What do you want to do?”

Despite the vagueness of his question, you understood what he was asking.

“Well, I want us to sort things out.” you expressed. “I don’t know if we’d work together, but I’d like to try. That’s just what I want, though. If you don’t-”

“That’s what I want, too.” Izzy agreed weakly.

You sensed his reluctance.

“But?” you prompted.

“I don’t understand… after what I did to you…”

“I don’t understand either.”

You absently rubbed your cheek.

“Don’t get me wrong,” you went on. “I don’t want to force you into anything you’re uncomfortable with. But, I, for one, want to give this a chance, and I want to give you a chance. I mean, there has to be some reason I fell in love with you, right?”

You offered him a faint smile.

Tears formed in his eyes and he looked away.

Your face fell.

Before he could register what was happening, you engulfed him in a hug. Gradually, he wrapped his arms around you and buried his face in the crook of your neck, which dampened upon contact. You stroked his hair as his body jolted with the quiet sobs that tumbled from his mouth. His hands gripped the back of your shirt.

Seeing Izzy in this state caught you off guard as much as it caused your heart to ache. It wasn’t every day that you saw him in pain and distress, especially to this extent, hence your cluelessness of how to comfort him beyond a hug. Perhaps that’s all he needed- you wouldn’t know.

You settled on not saying anything. It was a risky move, but everything was when you had no idea what you were doing, or what exactly had brought this on. Did you say something wrong? Or, was he just overwhelmed with everything?

When he pulled away, you didn’t resist, instead loosening your grip. You reached up and dried his tears as best you could with one good hand, then absently traced his cheekbone with your thumb.

“Thank you.” he murmured.

Those two words allowed you to understand the cause of his tears. Your worries melted away.

“Aw, Iz.” you cooed. “You don’t have to thank me.”

“I do. You’re giving me a chance. Not every day someone does that for me.”

“So, you’re taking me up on my offer?”

You grinned, eliciting a weak smile from him.

“Of course I am.”

#izzy hands x reader #izzy hands #oluwande boodhari x reader #oluwande boodhari #stede bonnet x reader #stede bonnet #lucius spriggs #our flag means death roach #jim jimenez #ofmd x reader #ofmd #our flag means death x reader #Our Flag Means Death

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gonzo-rella · 2 years

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Talk It Through As A Crew (pt. 1) | Izzy Hands (ft. The (Marooned) Crew Of The Revenge)

MASTERLIST | AO3 | KO-FI

PART 1, PART 2

Relationship(s): Izzy Hands x gn!reader (romantic), the Crew (Oluwande, Buttons, Wee John, Black Pete, Roach and the Swede) x gn!reader (platonic)

Summary: Oluwande realises that you’re incredibly upset after being marooned. To pass the time and make the best of a bad situation, he suggests that you use your former captain’s policy, which leads to a revelation the crew hadn’t quite anticipated.

Warnings: OFMD season 1 finale spoilers, typical pirate stuff, angst with a bittersweet ending, something you could consider borderline-suicidal ideation (I wouldn’t say it’s too bad, though). (Let me know if I need to add any)

Word count: 2.4k

(A/N: I absolutely adore this fic- it’s definitely one of my favourites on this blog, and hopefully you’ll agree. I feel like this premise of the crew talking through their feelings after being marooned would also make a great Blackbonnet (or possibly Steddy Hands) x reader story, so let me know if you’d like me to write that. This is an alternate version of this imagine. Well, it’s alternate in the sense that it also takes place during the finale, but portrays the opposite thing that could have happened. I might write a sequel to this where the reader reunites with Izzy (if you’d like to see it, let me know), but I don’t have an idea worked out yet beyond Bad Blood by Taylor Swift vibes. [Insert obligatory begging for OFMD requests])

The Revenge had shrunk into a dot on the horizon by now.

Everyone appeared so defeated, awaiting death either by sprawling out on the pathetic excuse for an island or sulking (or both). No one wanted to speak. It would have been silent were it not for the sea.

Tears welled in your eyes and a lump formed in your throat. Everything, the conflict, the revenge, the betrayals, had culminated in this, and you weren’t sure that you could hold it in any longer. Even after being part of Stede’s crew, the thought of crying in front of the others was mortifying. They were in the same situation as you, and none of them were crying about it, were they?

Still, what you wanted and what you needed were completely different things. That’s why you finally allowed your sobs to escape. You buried your face in your hands, which were immediately dampened by your tears (and the sheen of sweat that had formed thanks to the harsh rays of the sun).

One by one, the crew looked over at you, something you didn’t notice because your eyes were covered and you had your back to most of them..

“Are they crying?” Wee John asked in a hushed voice- an attempt at one, anyway. You didn’t bother wondering who he was speaking to.

After around a minute, your sobs dissolved into sniffling and whimpering. You peeled your palms from your face, dried them on your shirt then used the backs of your hands to wipe away your tears and snot.

Oluwande examined your face (or what he could see of it), though he was more than aware that you were upset (and he could hazard a guess as to why). After a moment of thought, he rested a hand on your shoulder and gently squoze it. It silenced you for a moment, taking you by surprise. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Buttons shuffle over to you, situating himself at your side.

“Don’t worry yourself, mate,” Buttons assured. “We won’t eat you first, will we, lads?”

Well, it was a very on-brand attempt to ease your suspected worry. Black Pete, Roach, Wee John and the Swede muttered a series of noncommittal responses.

Oluwande sent him a glare.

“I don’t think that’s exactly what they’re crying about, Buttons.”

“Oh, so they’re fretting about us only having seawater to drink?”

“I’m pretty sure they’re upset about the… general hopelessness of this situation.”

“That’s fair enough. I, myself, am primarily concerned about the fact that the chances of us all getting out of this with our lives and our flesh intact are looking pretty slim at the moment.”

Oluwande went to speak, but you beat him to it.

“Eat me first.” you mumbled monotonously. “I don’t care.”

Oluwande swallowed his saliva, his eyes wide with worry. Sure, things were looking beyond bleak, but no one else had offered to sacrifice themself like that, especially in such a casual tone.

“Y/N...” he faltered. “I know things are looking pretty dire right now, but-”

“I don’t care about that, either. Not really, anyway.”

The crew glanced around at one another in confusion, though you only noticed Buttons and Olu exchanging a puzzled look

“What’s troubling you, then?” Buttons questioned.

You tensed up at that moment. Oluwande felt you stiffen beneath his touch.

For a moment, nothing happened. No one spoke. You glanced over to Oluwande as he turned to face Black Pete, Roach, the Swede and Wee John, who all knitted their brows as he looked around at them expectantly.

“Come on, guys.” Olu urged.

“What?” Black Pete asked in a cranky tone, finally sitting up.

“Get in a circle.”

“What are you on about?” Roach questioned.

“We’re gonna talk it through as a crew.”

Your shoulders sank, but you turned to face the rest of the crew anyway. Buttons did the same.

"Talk what through?” the Swede said cluelessly.

He crawled over to join the almost-circle. Roach moved over and sat beside him.

“Well, we’re all in the same shit situation, but I’m guessing some of us are thinking about different things.” Olu shrugged. “So, why don’t we talk about it? It might make us feel a bit better, and that’s all we can really do right now.”

Black Pete groaned and shuffled over to beside Roach.

“Oh, alright, then.” Wee John conceded with a huff. He wedged himself between Buttons and Black Pete.

The crew (or what was left of it) sat there with similar solemn expressions. At first, the only sound (aside from the sea) was your sniffling as you continued to brush away your tears. Oluwande glanced around at everyone.

“Um...Does anyone have anything they want to share?” he began uncertainly. He lacked the confidence of Stede, who would have persisted with this exercise without acknowledging his crew’s noticeable bewilderment and lack of enthusiasm.

All he received were blank stares, or, in the case of you and Black Pete, a complete avoidance of meeting his gaze.

“Why don’t I go first then?” Olu suggested. He took in a deep breath and drummed his fingers against the ground. He focused on them as he spoke.

“Jim... and Frenchie are both still on the ship,” Olu explained. “I mean, I think they are. We don’t really know what’s going on. All we know is we were left here, probably to die, and they weren’t. I’m worried something bad could happen to them, too.”

You understood where he was coming from. While you were all certain on some level that most, if not all, of you were going to die on this island, no one knew what would happen to Jim or Frenchie. Not knowing was far worse than knowing, at least that’s what you thought.

“Can’t be anything worse than this, can it?” Roach shrugged.

“Of course it can.” Black Pete scoffed. “Are you forgetting they're on the same ship as one of the deadliest pirates to ever live, and the dick who… gleefully rowed us out here to die?”

You bit your lip and scratched your cheek uncomfortably.

“I thought Blackbeard was nice now.” the Swede chimed in.

“Leaving us stranded in the middle of the ocean isn’t what I’d consider ‘nice’.”

Oluwande sighed. A melancholy silence fell over you.

“If I managed to survive being part of Blackbeard’s crew, odds are Jim’ll be alright.” you commented. “I’m not so sure about Frenchie. Hopefully, they’ll both be okay.”

“I hope so too.”

Olu cleared his throat.

“Who wants to go next?”

Black Pete sighed.

“I’ll go.” he reluctantly volunteered.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, mate.” Olu insisted, picking up on Pete’s hesitance.

“No, it’s fine.” Pete assured, waving his hand dismissively.

“Alright, then. Go ahead.”

“Well, as you all know, Lucius has been missing since last night.” Black Pete began. “After what Blackbeard did to us… fuck knows what happened to him.”

“What are you guys worrying about other people for?” Wee John probed.

“We know what’s gonna happen to us.” Pete answered grimly. “All we really have to worry about now is what’s happening to the people we… love.”

You clenched your jaw and huffed. Unfortunately, the others heard the hoarse rumble.

“Ah, so that’s what’s troubling you.” Buttons concluded.

“What?”

“Love.”

It wasn’t just the sun that was heating up your cheeks now, was it? You looked down as you rubbed your forearm anxiously.

“No…”

“Well, that was the worst lie I’ve ever heard.” Black Pete snorted.

You didn’t bother to argue. Somehow, you were already neck deep in a hole you’d managed to dig in less than 10 seconds.

“Aye,” Buttons agreed. “They’re not even denying it.”

“I didn’t know you were having any… love problems, Y/N.” Oluwande commented in a gentle (and somewhat intrigued) tone.

“Who is it?” Wee John blurted.

“No.”

“You can’t leave it at that, though! Especially when you were crying about it a minute ago.”

“They don't have to answer if they don’t want to.” Olu argued in an attempt at mediation.

“Can we guess?” Roach requested.

“Why do you even care?” you snapped, raising your hands in exasperation

“There’s nothing else to do.”

“My personal problems aren’t something ‘to do’, Roach.”

“Come on. Me and Olu said our things.” Black Pete tried

You groaned and ran your hand over your face. He made a decent point. It must have taken a lot for them to open up like that, and you refusing to do so wasn’t exactly in the spirit of things. Besides, you’d probably be dead in a few days anyway. The least you could do is provide them with something they would find vaguely entertaining.

“Fine.” you conceded through gritted teeth. “I’ll answer your questions if you promise not to be total bellends about it.”

They all uttered a kind of agreement. You sat there stiffly for a moment, attempting to blink away the fresh tears burning your eyes.

“So, who is it?” Wee John repeated.

“Just so we’re clear, you’ve all agreed that, if even one of you is a bellend about the next word that comes out of my mouth after this sentence, I’m not going to elaborate any further.”

You suspected they figured out which of them you were directly addressing with that warning.

“Just get on with it, man.” Roach ordered.

You took in a deep breath and scratched your neck.

Part of you hoped they didn’t hear you when you reluctantly mumbled, “Izzy.”

“Izzy as in… Izzy Hands?” Black Pete questioned incredulously.

“Mhm.” you hummed, as though the admission caused you pain. Your fingertips trailed to your forehead, which you massaged out of impulse.

Silence. It was better than mockery, you supposed. Then again, it didn’t feel quite right that you’d just confessed such a thing to them, of all people, and not been bombarded with a series of curious, insensitive remarks. You finally dared to look up at them and were alarmed to realise they were all staring at you with wide eyes. It appeared as though at least Black Pete and Wee John were about to explode (presumably due to the myriad of the aforementioned curious, insensitive remarks they were trying their best not to let slip off their tongues).

“I know.” you sighed pitifully.

Your eyes darted downwards as you gloomily swiped at the tears spilling from your eyes. The silence persisted. You glanced up at Pete and groaned.

“Go on. Say what you have to say.”

“I… Um… What the hell?”

“Fair enough.”

You glanced around.

“What about you, Olu?”

He watched you anxiously, as though you had just threatened him.

“Uh…” he hesitated. “No disrespect or anything but, like… why?”

You decided that focusing on the sky was better than making eye contact with the group of horrified and/or baffled men. After all, it was easier to think of what to say when you cast aside their intense stares.

“I know he’s a total prick. But, I guess, when I used to work on Blackbeard’s ship, something… developed.” you replied. “The feelings are just there and I don’t exactly know why, to be honest.”

“So, these feelings are still there,” Olu wondered. “Even after everything he’s put us all through?”

“Yeah, but that doesn’t mean I don’t completely fucking despise the bastard.”

Oluwande was unsettled by your sinister, pained glare, which you directed at your lap.

“God, I’m an idiot.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Of course I am, Olu.” you sighed. “You’d have to be an idiot to fall in love with a prick who doesn’t give a shit about you.”

A different kind of silence fell over you, but you didn’t bother to question it until-

“Do they not know?” Black Pete whispered.

“Know what?”

“I don’t think they know.” Roach responded.

“Know what?”

Black Pete exchanged a glance with Roach, but you noticed that everyone looked a tad uncomfortable, if not bewildered.

“Izzy totally had something for you.” Black Pete stated.

You let out a humourless laugh and shook your head.

“Don’t be ridiculous.”

“Uh, yeah, I’m pretty sure he did.” He paused before continuing, “Lucius thought so. Said Izzy had a soft spot for you.”

You froze and swallowed your saliva.

“I know he preferred me over you guys, but if this thing was mutual,” you argued. “He wouldn’t have done this to me.”

You pinched the bridge of your nose. Once again, tears built up in your eyes. You let them spill. At least they weren’t accompanied by sobs, you thought.

“I don’t care that he doesn’t… like me back,” you stated weakly. “It just really fucking stings, y’know? After everything I let myself feel about him, it turns out I mean so little to him that he could just leave me in the middle of nowhere to die.”

Oluwande patted you on the shoulder again. You were taken by surprise when Buttons clapped a hand on your shoulder, too.

“Love is a cruel mistress.” Buttons proclaimed with a heavy sigh. “Perhaps a crueller mistress than the sea, and definitely a crueller mistress than that wee angry fella. Mustn’t let it get you down, though, especially since you’re probably counting down the days ‘til you kick the bucket, so to speak.”

You looked at him out of the corner of your eye.

“Besides,” Black Pete added. “You could do a lot better than Izzy.”

“Yeah, way better, mate.” Olu agreed.

A small smile tugged at your lips.

“You know, if we were to ever get off this island,” Roach said with a smirk. “I wouldn’t mind tracking Izzy down, maybe hack off another one, or eight, of his toes”

The Swede, Buttons and Wee John sent him a puzzled look

“One for each of us,” he clarified. “and an extra one for you, Y/N.”

They nodded in understanding and agreement. You chuckled.

“Count me in.” Black Pete shrugged.

“What is it with pirates and revenge?” Olu questioned with narrowed eyes.

“Are you saying you don’t wanna hurt Izzy?” Wee John said incredulously.

“Of course I wanna hurt him, after everything he’s done. If it weren’t for him, everything would still be alright. Even Ed’d probably be fine, too.”

“So, we’re agreed?” Roach looked around at all of you. “If any of us gets out of this, Izzy’s totally fucked?”

A smile tugged at the corners of your lips. It ached, but it was genuine.

“I like the sound of that.”

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