OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH

oh izzy

can't you tell from the lighting

he's going to win

i know it's old but

him

(from nathan's insta)

izzy's problem is that he's also a henchman to the bottoms of his hidden heel booties but he's so attracted to power that if he can't have it extended over him in a way that makes him feel special, he thinks he wants to be the boss. he just needs to be somebody's guy

it's also why he's so confused and intimidated by Lucius (and why the dynamic is so juicy). if it was safe* he'd love for Lucius to exercise some power over him

*possible for it to feel safe or whatever

Testament (Izzy/Lucius)

Prompt: 100 words of inheritance

Izzy dreamt of an enormous moth lighting on his face, beating its wings furiously. It was a strange fancy for a man who’d spent most of his life at sea, away from almost every creeping, crawling thing, but it made more sense once he struggled back awake and felt a sheet of parchment slide off his face.

“What the fuck is this?” Lucius demanded, his voice off-pitch with some emotion Izzy was too inexperienced or hungover (or both) to identify.

He turned over enough to blearily take in whatever Lucius was talking about before Lucius shoved it in his face again. The paper was stamped with Wee John’s powder and paints now—Izzy hadn’t washed his prettiness off before he’d collapsed in bed. But that wasn’t what Lucius meant, of course. He was—God only knew why—all stirred up about what was written on the paper.

“What the fuck does it look like?”

“What does it—it looks like a fucking will, Izzy!”

“Good,” Izzy said. “I did it right, then.”

you can have a little revenge, as a treat (Izzy/Lucius)

(tw: references to noncon)

Izzy knew Lucius was tailing him back to his cabin. He didn’t stay so close it was stupid—more like a nervy cat’s way of following than a puppy’s—but he was still as subtle as a cannonball. He wasn’t surprised when there was a knock half-a-minute after he got inside.

“I’d say ‘fuck off,’ but you don’t like listening, do you?”

The door creaked open. “Did you know it was me, or is that just, like, how you greet people?”

“It can be both.”

“Fair.” Lucius slipped in and sat down, like he’d had a real invitation. He gave Izzy a fierce, almost angry look. “I asked Pete to be my matelot.”

He didn’t know what he’d expected this to be about, but it sure as fuck wasn’t this. “And you came to me for congratulations?”

“Uh, no. I can see why that would be weird, if I’d done that. No, I want to—” He pressed his lips together. Turned out that was one last bolstering-up of the dam before he kicked it to pieces. “Stede doesn’t want to listen to what happened to me after Blackbeard pushed me overboard, and he said I shouldn’t tell Pete every dark little detail, either. And he was right. It’s a lot, and I shouldn’t … track filth around. But if I don’t tell someone about it, I’m going to lose my fucking mind. You’re not squeamish, and you won’t cry over me.”

That glare of his, Izzy saw now, had just a hint of desperation to it.

He’d never talked about anything more than he’d had to—swallowed it all down like his fucking toes—but he had, as the whole cursed lot of them knew by now, sicked up enough before to know that it could help. And if you were going to spew, better to do it in private.

“Fine,” Izzy said.

Lucius boggled at him for a moment, like a fish pulled out of the water, and then said, “Right, I expected that to be a lot harder.”

✨☕️x

his wet restless subby little eyes.....

Normalize bottoms calling the top faggot during sex ‼️‼️

his wet restless subby little eyes.....

Пожалуйста, будь моим смыслом,

Мы одни на целой земле, в самом сердце моих картин.

Целый мир придуман, целый мир придуманных истин,

Я нуждаюсь в твоём тепле, я хочу быть смыслом твоим —

is that a cigarette in you pocket or is yr penis narrow and full of nicotine and in my mouth ten times a day more if I've been drinking

Lots of ways to move on, and I don't know how to whittle.

Cleaned up a little sketch I had…👀🍷

I support Izzy being dominated by literally anyone on that ship!

I got a note from his doctor saying it would lower his blood pressure.

And I also reaaaally like drawing Lucius being a flirty little minx, so it all ads up!

[more blackhands+sprigghands cnc thoughts]

fic where the crew is hanging out on deck in the evening, just chilling, idly sharing space, and even izzy didn't have to be ordered to be here and is just sitting quietly while everyone chats around him and occasionally interjecting some rude comment that by now everyone feels equally as fond about as annoyed.

ed is laying on his back with his knee stretched out, resting his head in stede's lap and getting his hair played with as he smokes. he told a story earlier and having gotten his daily requirement of hero/villain worship, he's now content to absorb the company and passively bond with the crew and all that.

except it's long enough since the kraken that most of the time everything is fine, but not long enough that no one is upset anymore - and especially some people in particular are still baseline Not Happy with him, and ed is absolutely the kind of guy that needs everyone to like him so much all the time.

but more importantly, izzy's been stressed lately. less stressed than when they first got here and less stressed than during the kraken era, of course, but nothing in particular has happened to help him recover from that. and ed knows he's lonely too, now that ed is spending most of his personal time with stede instead.

so ed just figures, hey. maybe he can catch botha those fish with one hook.

he says, so casually, "lucius is kind of into you, huh?" and everyone goes quiet and there's a long pause while everyone tries to figure out who tf he's talking to because he's just staring straight up at the sky (nervous; they've done this thing before, but never when ed was seeing someone else, and never with... these talk-it-through types).

after a few long moments, izzy figures out it's him. and he's a little bit stupid so he has not himself picked up on how lucius is kind of into him lmfao. so he snorts and says, "where'd you get that idea?"

ed says, "mostly from how he's always staring at your tits," and that sure shuts izzy up. iz carefully doesn't look at lucius, because now he's nervous too because he never knows how he feels about someone being into him and he wouldn't know what to do about it if he did (and the more he wants it the less he can figure out how he feels, an infuriating paradox to experience, i love my autistic and asexual wife and i will get him loved and laid if it kills us both).

anyway so ed continues, and to everyone else this is a weird conversational leap, but izzy knows ed is actually still talking about the same thing when he says, "i said sorry and all, but i was thinking i should probably give him an apology gift too." he finally tilts his head to look at izzy, to hold his eyes and rumble the question that is actually an order, "don't you think so?"

there's a brief staring contest where the two of them almost-communicate with their eyes, and then izzy is reaching up to take off his baldric - hesitantly, because he can't be fully sure if he's accurately picking up what ed is putting down. but when ed doesn't seem to react, izzy knows he's got it right. he relaxes - just a touch - as he moves on to the ring and his ascot, pulling them smoothly out of his collar so he can start unbuttoning.

his throat clicks and his voice is even raspier than usual - and quieter, softer, with some quality that is just Different - when he murmurs, "how extravagant do you want this gift to be?"

and ed says, "well i did try to kill the guy. so it's going to have to be very good." (and 'it' here absolutely refers to izzy; makes him shiver.)

"oh my god what's happening," lucius breathes, him and pete squeezing the shit out of each others' hands in disbelieving anticipation. "i mean, i know what's happening, but holy shit what is happening."

izzy mutters, some of that trademark crankiness creeping back in at the edges of his tone, "put a stop to it now if you don't want it." ('it' still refers to izzy here, but that's a little bit more of a secret this time, a way for izzy to distance himself from the possibility of rejection.)

"okay," lucius says, with no plans to put a stop to 'it'. but he doesn't need the clarification, because he doesn't want to cross any lines and because he doesn't quite trust ed not to be capital e Evil or izzy to properly enact his own autonomy (oof), "seriously though, what exactly is it?"

"well, iz?" ed prompts, grinning, all teeth, because the harder the task the further out of izzy's head it gets him, and the whole point of This is that it's so hard for izzy to say these things out loud. well that, and knowing what they even are, but this at least is a pre-established set of rules izzy can just list off, and the only thing that makes it difficult is that it's so revealing. "tell the man about his gift."

izzy growls a wordless complaint low in his throat (everyone likes that), but after grinding his teeth for a moment and discarding his vest, he does answer, haltingly, "you can do whatever you want to me-" he pauses, looks at ed in question, "wherever skin is showing?" ed nods. "wherever skin is showing. if i can't take it, i stop you. if you try to break the skin or leave permanent marks, i stop you. if- if you insult me, i... won't like that." (ed specifically had to add that last thing to the rules izzy has to tell a new person, because even after redefining what 'can't take it' means izzy still wouldn't stop someone from hurting his feelings. and he still won't now, so-)

"he won't stop you though, so i'll have to. and that'll be a real set back, if you know what i mean."

lucius glares at him half-heartedly, but it is a little bit sweet in their fucked up way that ed will maim or maroon someone for making izzy feel bad, so like... this is actually kind of working lmfao. he says, bitchily because he's not willing to acknowledge the ground ed is gaining on the 'genuine forgiveness' road, "yeah i think i got it."

izzy discards his shirt, and hovers his hands over the tie of his trousers. ed reads him in the same practiced way he reads the direction and speed of the wind, semi-subconsciously cataloguing half a dozen factors to figure out what izzy wants to be ordered to do. eventually he shakes his head.

so izzy leaves his pants on and puts his hands on the deck behind himself so as not to block the view. and when lucius finally decides to accept that this is really okay and crawls over to do whatever he wants, izzy lets him. and every caress and pinch and lick pushes him further out of his head and gets him slowly rising into a high that opium could only dream of.