JustDanny
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If Ben was doing this, it was for Izzy. He wasn't one to get excited for shore leave anyway; much less in order to meet with her lover, and absolutely not to talk about... this. Yet here he was, and it was all for her, really. And, well: maybe also a little bit for himself.
“For example,” Bonnet continued, “how far would you go to stop this wedding?”
For a moment, Ben didn't know how to answer.Series
- Part 4 of the fleet
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,598
- Chapters:
- 1/1
- Kudos:
- 5
- Hits:
- 29
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Stede Bonnet has never been in love. It’s a foreign thing, a strange thing. It’s nothing like what he’s read about a thousand times before: there are no sonnets tearing out of his chest, there’s no music and there are no butterflies nesting inside of him. Instead, there’s a sort of wonder.
He’d like to tell Mary. He’d like to ask her if that’s ever happened to her, if she’s ever felt about to burst out laughing, joy bubbling in all her body until it nearly kills her, until she could drown in it.
“She’s just doing her job, you know,” she’d say. And she’d be right, maybe. Mary’s always been practical, down-to-Earth. Boring, incredibly boring, even. She wouldn’t know what Stede was talking about.
“I’d give up the sea to be with you.”***
Or, the Stizzy side of Make a wish.Series
- Part 2 of Make a wish
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The thing is, he’s alright. Not too angry for once, because he hasn’t got the energy, nor anxious. Keeping this ship afloat is not his problem anymore; keeping his Captain content isn’t either. And those two have been arduous fucking tasks, and now there’s nothing for Izzy to do but try to fix some of the rigging when his foot won’t stop throbbing, or go ahead and mend one of the sails nobody’s bothered with yet. They’re hardly life or death tasks, and so he’s not angry and he’s not anxious and he’s just sort of there. Carrying on.
Until he's not. -
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It’d started with the toe thing.
Alright, scratch that. It’d started way before, if he had to be honest. Which, really, he didn’t really have to be, right? Like, technically speaking. Nobody was actually asking him to be, you know, honest and shit. Nobody was asking him anything. It was like everyone had just woken up one day and decided they’d lost their damn minds, and that was that.
Fucking mental.(Or: this whole thing with Stede and Izzy is going really well for Ed. Really, really well. If only he could stand looking them in the face, that is.)
Series
- Part 3 of the fleet
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“Eddie, mate,” a familiar voice says. “Think you can pay attention for a fucking moment? We’ve set eyes on a prize.”
And his heart is suddenly in his throat, and he clenches his fist around the fucking ring even more before turning around to the deck.
Inches from his own, Calico Jack’s fucking mug is frowning at him.
Calico Jack’s fucking dead mug, very much alive.
“Fuck, Eddie. You look like shit, mate.”(Or: after making the wrong wish, Ed finds himself thrown into a life he doesn't remember and is not sure he likes.)
Series
- Part 1 of Make a wish
Recent series
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- Words:
- 24,067
- Works:
- 2
- Bookmarks:
- 5
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- Words:
- 30,580
- Works:
- 2
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This was what he was comfortable with, with Alma. Sitting nearby. Part of the group but not center stage.
A weird reverse from his usual, sure.
But he really had no idea what to do with himself around kids. They were so curious. So full of life. Delicate, fragile life.
He didn’t dare relax.
When Edward Teach let loose, people got hurt more often than not.
Bookmarked by JustDanny
21 Sep 2026
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An empty stage. Remnants of life: a net in one corner, floorboards pitted, dark stains spattered over the wall, a sketchbook propped up against the wall. Or not. Maybe it’s just empty.
A YOUNG MAN enters. Uncomfortable.
He takes a trinket from his pocket – a wooden shark toy – and places it down. The position is wrong; he fixes it. Fixes it again. Curses. He’s tried too many times; it will never be right.
He crosses to the wall, curls up against it. Breathes. Counts to ten, uncurls deliberately; a breathing exercise. Shakes out his hands.YOUNG MAN: This is so fucking stupid.
The man who used to be Lucius Spriggs mourns.
Bookmarked by JustDanny
08 Sep 2026
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He wants to vomit. He wants to scream. He wants to burn all of New Providence to the ground. He wants to destroy everything he can touch. He wants to jump into the sea with an anchor tied to his feet.
Instead, he speaks in a quiet, broken voice.
“Cut him down.”
Bookmarked by JustDanny
07 Sep 2026
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They’ve just sunk a Dutch merchant vessel for a bit of Friday fun, and Frenchie’s overseeing the division of treasure on-deck when he notices Izzy’s looking a bit worse for wear - paler than usual, and with a hand pressed against his lower back like it’s bothering him something awful.
Jim gets there first; Frenchie watches them approach, mutter something that sounds like ‘¿Estás bien?’ — and after a beat, Izzy nods, looking at them like he’d only just realised they were there. Moreover, it looks like the moment’s passed. He shakes back into himself, lowers the hand, and sets to helping Jim lift some of the heavier spoils off the dinghy.
Not done his back in, then, Frenchie thinks. Weird.
Bookmarked by JustDanny
18 Jul 2026
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Summary
The face that launched a thousand ships launches one more, only this one brings her home.
Bookmarked by JustDanny
09 Jul 2026