Blackbeard - Blog Posts
Anyone else weirdly obsessed with pirates and ancient Egypt at the same time?
*mouth fart noise* 🤷
The Kraken listens to My Chemical Romance. Edward Teach listens to All Too Well (10 Minute Version) on repeat
I will not be taking questions at this time
Honestly, if I was on the crew of the revenge and my dorky captain had been alone with the Blackbeard, on deaths on door, and then Blackbeard comes out wearing his clothes. Bro I don’t know what I’d think. Probably that he killed the poor guy and it’s some sort of sick power move. But nope, just two guys bein weirdos together <3
“Living my best life <3”
“Lucius is drowning.”
“This ain’t about him.”
*translate the comment from Polish*
what a beast, the catfish is also nice
oh..............
"You make Stede happy"
Props to the person who replied to my wishes for Our Flag Means Death s2 with this absolute gem.
If you’re out there, hit me up, we could have a delightful conversation.
Did anyone else notice that in Episode 10 of OFMD, Black Pete was wearing the clothes Frenchie stole from the fancy merchant ship in Episode 5?
Did Frenchie let Black Pete wear the outfit for the "talent show"?
Or did Blackbeard make Frenchie get rid of the outfit because the outfit reminded Blackbeard of Stede and their adventures together?
Blackhands break up fic where Izzy is a selkie who gave Ed his coat and swore to never let him drown. Every time Ed's gone into the water and been unable to fend for himself, Izzy pulled him out.
But the Trauma Crew demanded that Ed give the coat back as part of his rehabilitation reparations. Ed did so, though a part of him remains secure that Izzy is still his in every way that matters. Until Izzy almost dies and sails off with the Revenge crew, leaving Ed on land. Izzy, half dead, heard Ed talking about possibly burying him on land with him and Stede, and that was The Last Fucking Straw. They are Over with a capital O.
But after a couple months, when Ed's bored of the innkeepers gig, he decides he wants to see Izzy again. So, obviously, he jumps into the sea and waits.
And waits. And waits.
From there, it can go one of several ways: either Izzy never comes and Stede pulls a sobbing Ed out of the water who's finally realised that he and Izzy are broken beyond repair and he's lost his oldest friend, OR Izzy shows up and is massively pissed, but hugs a snuffly sad Ed and tells him a gentle but firm goodbye and that next time, he's on his own.
Or Ed literally drowns and his last thoughts are of Izzy coming to save him, but Izzy never does :3c
horrid little brainworm
Frenchie is still green at the start of the Kraken era.
He isn't, by the end.
But back then, when it all begins - when he isn't used to the sting of kohl-mixed sweat dripping into his eyes - he makes mistakes. Lots of them. Simple little things - fluffing a knot in the rigging that has their sail unfurling midway through the dogwatch, goods left unstowed to roll with the list of their ship.
Most of the time, Izzy yells himself hoarse for five minutes, then shows Frenchie how to fix it, interspersing his lecture with expletives. Whatever. That's fine. Let the little man scream - he's not the scariest thing aboard anymore.
Never was, really.
But then Blackbeard (Ed? The Kraken?) stomps out of his cabin, hair a black thundercloud, and snarls 'which one of you men is responsible for that fucking mop', pointing to some cleaning equipment Frenchie forgot to pack away.
And everything goes still, as if they're becalmed.
[CW: whipping, abuse, non-explicit mentions of Frenchie's past locked-box traumas]
No one says Frenchie's name - not even Izzy. He just ducks his chin and refuses to look his captain in the eye. But the eyes of every other crewmember jump guiltily to Frenchie, at least once - and Blackbeard is too smart to miss such a tell.
"A ship needs discipline," he says. "Isn't that what you always tell me, Iz?"
"I'll attend to it," says Izzy, voice scratchier than ever. Frenchie knows this is a bad fucking situation - memories battering against the inside of his locked box, trying to get out - but somehow he can't feel fear. Can't really feel anything.
"With the cat," says Blackbeard. "Give the culprit fifteen. Really make the lesson stick."
Ah. There's the fear.
Frenchie's breath stifles itself halfway up his throat, as screams sneak through the keyhole of his box, along with the crack of a whip -
No. No, no, no. He can't. Not again, he can't -
Izzy glances up. Frenchie expects him to grin, all vindictive sadism - but whatever he sees on Frenchie's face has his mouth pulling into a tight line.
"Yes, sir," he says, though Frenchie barely hears over the dull roar of his heart.
He casts his gaze about, looking for an escape. Over the side? They're too far from land, but fuck, if it isn't tempting -
Jim fondles their knives, glaring mutinously at Blackbeard's back as he returns to his cabin. They don't spring after him (though Frenchie selfishly wishes they would). They're well aware - as is everyone - that right now, with Blackbeard black-eyed and bloodthirsty, they'd lose.
Izzy swallows. Shuts his eyes. Then calls for Fang to fetch the cat.
Frenchie loses time then. Scarcely a blink passes before Fang reappears above the deck, the strings of the knotted whip scraping the floor like the tentacles of a shrunken sea-monster.
They're flaky with rusty residue. Old, dried blood.
Frenchie's fingers twitch in the chords of the first song his Ma taught him. No rituals or superstitions will save him. Nothing will. Because his old crew are marooned, almost certainly dead, and his new crew are - with the exception of Fang and Jim and Ivan - fucking monsters.
He's going to be whipped (again). He's going to shred open all those old scars. The box is going to open, and -
Oh, God. Oh God. Fifteen lashes is survivable (Frenchie knows, he knows) but he's still not sure if anything of himself will emerge from the other side.
He's still frozen, staring at the whip held in Fang's big hands, flat out like he's presenting it to Izzy. Only... Izzy doesn't take it.
No, Izzy moves to stand in front of the mast. Walking stiff, with a bit of a limp. While Frenchie's reeling, struggling to process what's happening, he yanks off his shirt. And - fuck, his back is almost as ugly a sight as Frenchie knows his own would be, if he could bear to study it in a mirror.
A few of the crew draw shocked inhales. Most don't look surprised.
Frenchie is one of the latter group. Sound travels, on a ship.
"Um," says Fang, cat dangling limp. "Boss?"
Izzy grabs the hawsers wrapped around the mainmast. Heaves a deep breath. Rests his forehead against the wood.
"You heard the captain," he croaks. "Fifteen lashes."
Fang's eyes are moist - though they are more often than not, nowadays. "Boss - "
"The captain wants the culprit disciplined," Izzy says. His muscles flex beneath their coating of scars. Bracing himself, Frenchie's mind supplies. For the oncoming pain. Not that any amount of tensing is ever enough. "First mate's responsible for maintaining a tidy deck."
This turn of events finally settles into Frenchie's bones. The whip's not for him, thank everything. His key slides gratefully into the lock of his box and turns, ensuring it's shut tight.
Still, sickness churns in his guts. Last week, sleep eluded him. He'd intended to skulk above decks and breathe the sea air to clear his head. He never made it - because who should stagger out of the captain's cabin, so dead-eyed he didn't even notice Frenchie lurking in the shadows of the galley door, but the Revenge's thrice-cursed angry gremlin of a first mate?
Izzy hadn't looked much like a gremlin then, though. Doesn't now, either. Just looks. Tired. And old. And bruised to shit beneath his shirt, and not all of those lash marks are old, weathered scars, and -
Frenchie's fingers twitch more rapidly, pressing through their imaginary chord sequence.
Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit -
"Fifteen lashes," Izzy reminds Fang. "If you can't do it, anyone else is free to step up. I'm sure there'll be fucking volunteers."
Frenchie eyes Jim. They and Izzy aren't exactly friends - not when Frenchie has heard them mumble a word that sounds horrifically close to 'Oluwande' in their sleep.
But Jim stays right where they are. Hand on the hilt of a knife. Ivan emulates, and, well, Frenchie's feet have damn near put down roots. He couldn't move from this spot if he was ordered to.
Fang's tears well over, and his hand shakes on the whip handle to the point where Frenchie thinks he might drop it.
A clash from the great cabin has them all jumping - all but Izzy, who rests his cheek on the mast like it's a particularly splintery pillow, eyes drifting shut. Blackbeard barges back out, sousing the air with body odour and smoke and self-hatred and whatever the fuck else he's been marinating in.
"What's the fucking wait?" he demands. "I expected way more screams by now." He halts, frowning at the sight of Izzy, stood where Frenchie ought to be (because fuck, he shouldn't have left that mop and bucket out; how many times has Izzy told him - ). For a moment, the harsh line of his brows crumples on itself in something that could be mistaken for regret. But then that dark sneer crawls onto his lips, the one with which the whole crew is becoming familiar. "Can't pick who gets the privilege, eh? Well, lucky for the lot of you, that's what a captain's for."
He stalks forwards, feline-graceful. Frenchie scuttles from his path. When Blackbeard snatches the whip from Fang (not seeming to notice his whimper, his flinch) Frenchie fully anticipates that he'll turn on Izzy, not him.
He certainly doesn't expect Blackbeard to smile, cold and white as a toenail moon, and thrust the whip towards him, hilt first.
"Oh, no." Frenchie raises both hands in surrender. "No, no, no. I couldn't. Awful with a whip, me. Wouldn't, um..." There's the noise of it again, slithering out through the keyhole of his box. The swish. The crack. The scream. "Wouldn't be able to strike hard enough," he stutters. "No upper body strength, yeah."
Blackbeard doesn't approach Frenchie. Just keeps the whip held out towards him, like the accusative finger of a god.
"You give him fifteen," he says, gently. "And make each one count. Or I give him fifty."
Against the mast, Izzy makes a sound - not quite a whimper. Worse; it's far too much like relief. His hands don't shake, but only because they grip the hawser tight as rigor mortis.
Fifty can kill. Has killed before. Frenchie's seen it.
But Blackbeard doesn't want Izzy dead, right? Who would he torture then?
Blackbeard's blank, lifeless eyes pour into Frenchie's.
Who indeed?
Fuck. Frenchie swallows dry. He tells himself it's for self-preservation that he unsticks his boots from the deck and shuffles forth to take the whip. Not for Izzy. Not like he likes the angry little prick. Man's vicious as a cat and thrice as cursed.
Maybe, if Frenchie tells himself that, it'll make this memory easier to lock away with all the rest.
"Ready?" he asks Izzy, softer than he intends. Izzy twists over his scarred shoulder. He looks at Frenchie - really looks at him - for what feels like the first time. Not even glancing to his left, where the Kraken lurks.
Frenchie can't decipher his expression. Pity, for whatever made him offer himself up in Frenchie's place? Frustration, that Frenchie prevented Blackbeard from whipping him into the grave? Misery and fear - no, that's far too sane for a guy like Izzy.
Izzy turns back to the mast.
"Give me your worst," he says.
Frenchie breathes in, breathes out, and obeys.
chained dog
Yoooo, I can't write for shit(especially in English), but i desperately need an angsty wing fic about toxic edizzy, where Ed clips Izzys wings (you know, like the horrible thing, where people clip the (parts of) wings of birds, so they can't fly away. All the angst, misunderstandings, mutilation feels, the weird loyality/love Izzy has for Ed, Eds obsessive love? Something for Izzy. The crew finding out that Izzy is missing parts of his primary and secondary feathers, when he is forced to(or accidentally) spread his wings where they can see it. (When folded, you can't always see if a birds wings are clipped).The crew adopting Izzy as a part of their friend group. Ed trying to justify Izzys clipped wings (its not always a one and done thing, they grow back, so maybe someone else, Hornigold? Started clipping young Izzys wings and then ed kinda took over after the mutiny?) And maybe with enough time they grow back and Izzy has to relearn how to fly, or Izzy is to mutilated in the end and its really fucking sad because he will never fly again? I have SO MANY FEELINGS about this!!!!
Yoooo, I can't write for shit(especially in English), but i desperately need an angsty wing fic about toxic edizzy, where Ed clips Izzys wings (you know, like the horrible thing, where people clip the (parts of) wings of birds, so they can't fly away. All the angst, misunderstandings, mutilation feels, the weird loyality/love Izzy has for Ed, Eds obsessive love? Something for Izzy. The crew finding out that Izzy is missing parts of his primary and secondary feathers, when he is forced to(or accidentally) spread his wings where they can see it. (When folded, you can't always see if a birds wings are clipped).The crew adopting Izzy as a part of their friend group. Ed trying to justify Izzys clipped wings (its not always a one and done thing, they grow back, so maybe someone else, Hornigold? Started clipping young Izzys wings and then ed kinda took over after the mutiny?) And maybe with enough time they grow back and Izzy has to relearn how to fly, or Izzy is to mutilated in the end and its really fucking sad because he will never fly again? I have SO MANY FEELINGS about this!!!!
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