Thread by @theatheatheado

this is something i banged out in one sitting, so don’t expect greatness.

izzy angst! eventual steddyhands!

cw: self deprecation, references to animal death, aaaangst, misunderstandings. a lot of them. i will add more with each update i do!

#steddyhands #ofmd

Izzy was exhausted. Beyond exhausted, truly. His legs threatened to buckle out from under him with every step and his brow was coated in a sheen of sweat from all of his efforts, but to him the pain was well worth the reward.

Stede had been on a generosity kick as of late. That morning he had emerged on deck with a spring in his step and Edward by his side with an announcement for the crew.

He stated that, if the crew was so inclined, doing overtime work repairing the sails and fixing the rigging would earn them a reward of their choice.

Izzy had a sneaking suspicion that if the idea weren’t from one of his books, it was most certainly drawn from his business-savvy lifestyle on land. “People-positive management” and the like.

“It’s an opportunity open to all!” He had looked pointedly at Izzy during this portion of his, frankly far too long, speech. For the past few months since his return to the revenge, Bonnet, for whatever reason, was making attempt after attempt to get in Izzy’s good graces.

Izzy endured this for Ed’s sake. Partially out of his unwavering loyalty to the man, and partially out of the fear that if he failed to accept Stede’s posh dinner invitations or fleeting smiles, he would lose another limb. A dramatic fear maybe, but a paralyzing one nonetheless.

As Stede prattled on, Izzy began let his words fade to the back of his mind, the prospect of a reward taking the forefront. For in all of his efforts to welcome Izzy as he never had before, Stede and Ed still did not pay him for his work on the ship.

Unlike the rest of the crew (Not the rest of the crew — just the crew. Izzy was not a part of the crew.) Izzy was not paid for his labor.

He never blamed the pair for neglecting to pay him, of course. He was a problem, a bothersome presence to all. He saw the way the crew looked at him, varying levels of disdain and mockery in their eyes. He knew he wasn’t welcome, and he had accepted that long ago.

His prime had passed. A worthless dog has no use on a ship. It was only a matter of time before he was phased out entirely, one way or another.

Stede was still talking, somehow. “Of course, we only need a few takers. It’s not too daunting of a task, I’m sure, but as it’s an extra bit of work on your plates, you will be compensated!”

Edward seemed just as zoned out. Edward, who had been so carefully avoiding Izzy for months. It has started small, ignoring the first mate as they crossed paths below deck, but had escalated to a much more evident show of rejection.

Izzy didn’t see much of Ed anymore, and God, did he miss him. He missed the nights tucked against Ed after bad dreams plagued him, missed the playful sparring matches on deck, missed the sound of his laugh. He missed sharing meals with him.

Izzy ate in his room now, anyway. He knew he wasn’t welcome in the galley.

He chanced a glance up at the pair of captains just as Stede finished his speech. Jim had a hand raised to volunteer. Izzy liked Jim quite a bit. They were quiet and unobtrusive and just a touch scary.

If Izzy were to be replaced, he hoped that Jim would be the one replacing him. They deserved the position more than him.

Unsurprisingly, the majority of the crew had declined the offer. The bizarre utopia that the Revenge was, they hadn’t anything to ask for in return for work. Unlike Iz, they were paid plentifully.

Izzy raised a hand alongside Jim. Ed peeked up at him for a moment before returning his gaze to the deck. Stede brightened as though he had just noticed Izzy’s presence.

“Ah, Israel!” He chirped. “Excellent! You two can work together then!” Izzy had no time to rebute before Stede flounced below deck, dragging Ed behind him. He didn’t often care to see his orders through. Izzy did that for him.

Luckily for Izzy, Jim had no intentions of making recreation out of the job. They worked silently alongside one another, passing important bits of information back and forth in quiet tones.

By sunset the work was done. It wasn’t too grueling, not for Izzy. He had already planned to do it himself anyway, but Jiminez had certainly expedited the process.

The day had put a strain on his bad foot. The infection had long since faded, but still the discomfort persists. It’s not a new standard for Izzy, to be constantly in pain. It is however a new standard that his pain is so visible to others.

With footfalls heavy with exhaustion, he makes his way below decks and towards the captains cabin.

The knock on the door seems fo take more effort than the whole day’s work. A cold sensation washed over him as he waited to be granted entry.

It wasn’t anything new, being afraid of his captains. Of Ed, in particular, but between Blackbeard’s violent anger and Stede’s scathing tongue, the thought of making a wrong move makes him sweat even more.

There’s a shuffling noise, and Stede is at the door. His regular clothes, though much more subdued than in months previous, are overshadowed by a gaudy dressing gown.

He smiles at Izzy, not unkindly, but it has a sort of stiff, practiced nature that never fails to put Izzy on edge. “Israel! Do come in. We were just having tea.”

Izzy nods dutifully and follows Stede inside. He stops just short of the living room-like space, resting in parade stance. Ed is on the little couch with the fancy French name that escapes Izzy. He only glances at Izzy for a moment, nods, then goes back to stirring his tea.

Stede sits down beside Ed on the couch, his straight backed posture rivaling Ed’s slouched pose. He folds his hands on his lap. “What brings you here, Izzy?”

Izzy can’t seem to stop tracing the patterns of Ed’s own dressing gown with his eyes. It’s a pinkish red color. Izzy’s never liked red. He always prefers to see Ed in purples and blues. He clears his throat.

“I finished the rigging, with the help of Jiminez. I was just…” He coughs again. A filler of space as he forces himself to muster up the words. “I was wondering if I could cash in on that reward you spoke of?”

Stede seems surprised. His eyebrows raise for just a moment before he nods. In his periphery, Izzy sees Ed look up from his cup. Stede nods rapidly. “Oh, yes, of course! Silly me.”

He’s begun tapping his fingers against his legs. Izzy knows he’s itching to be alone with Ed again. He would feel bad if he weren’t so damn uncomfortable.

“What was it you wanted, Izzy? For your reward, that is.”

Right. Now this, above all things, was the part he was dreading. He knew he didn’t deserve to be paid regular wages. It’s not like the crew invited him out to port anyway. He never partook in their shopping trips or bar hopping. He was never asked to join.

He finds his mouth to be especially dry. ‘Don’t be greedy,’ his mind supplies. “I was wondering if… there was any chance I could get a… pay raise.”

Now Ed is listening. He’s still holding the tea cup, but he’s staring right at Izzy, eyes piercing as ever. Stede looks taken aback for a moment. Then he speaks again.

“Oh, I’m sorry Izzy. I couldn’t pay you more than any other crew members,” he tuts. It sounds condescending in a way that makes Izzy’s cheeks burn. “That wouldn’t be fair, would it?”

Izzy shakes his head minutely, his fears catching up to him. Anxiety seeps in as Edwards eyes stay trained on him. His bad foot burns.

He’s confused more than anything. Do they really think that little of him that he would ask to be paid more than the crew for a starting salary?

“No, I don’t… I don’t need to be paid more than them,” he supplies, unsure of how to continue. “I wouldn’t even expect you to pay me indefinitely, maybe just for this week? Or even just for tomorrow’s work?”

All he wants is a few coins, really. They’re making port and he needs to buy himself a new vial of laudanum. It seems to dull the pain that seizes his leg at night. He just wants to be tipped, in a way, for the work he did. Was that too much to ask?

Evidently, it was. Stede is standing now, his face stern. “Israel, I’ve already said I will not give you any extra money. You should be perfectly fine as is.” His brow furrows.

Despite the bright and gaudy gown he wears, Stede somehow still finds ways to make Izzy cower in fear. Standing in front of him now, stubble on his face, shoulders broad, Izzy can see how piracy has taken its toll on Stede.

If he also sees just why Edward finds the bizarre man attractive, he doesn’t dwell on it. He doesn’t have the wherewithal to shift his focus.

“It wouldn’t be fair to the crew to give you any more money. I’m quite disappointed that you don’t see that.”

Izzy flinches. That word, disappointment, lands a blow like no other. Moreover, he understands now. Stede doesn’t want to start paying him because he would rather give that money to his real crew.

His heart rate picks up. Ed is glaring now, still scarily silent. Izzy licks his lips. “I’m sorry, sir. I won’t ask again.”

Why isn’t he worth it?

Stede just shakes his head. He bows his head to hide the shame on his face. “Can I be excused, sir?” He asks, an embarrassing tremble in his voice.

The blond man sighs. “Yes, Israel, you may go.” As Izzy turns to leave, his breath quick and hands shaking, he hears Stede speak again.

“I thought we were making progress, Israel.” With a shuddering breath, Izzy crosses the threshold and enters the hallway.

Progress. Izzy had thought he had made progress, too. But it seemed that if he wanted to earn his keep, to avoid his inevitable disposal, he would have to work harder.

A ship is no place for a worthless old dog.

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