Walkpathe / Edward - Tumblr Posts

🪐 — EDWARD TEACH​  for  izzy !

honesty feels raw and chafing against his now unguarded heart,   but edward nods instead of flinching from it,  an almost solemn tilt of his head.  it hurts,  and it’s his own fault,  his own hands that have caused the damage.  there’s no point in trying to hide from it,  stuffing it under his bed like a forgotten box of old loot that’s not worth looking at again.  isn’t this the whole point?  owning up to his mistakes,  making amends  —  starting with being a better friend and a better captain,  for sure.  he knows he has lacked in both aspects for quite a few years now.  hand is removed from izzy’s leg,  brought back to neutral space with slow deliberation.  not a startled movement,  then:  just edward not wanting to overwhelm izzy,  not all at once.  it’s not an easy feat,  with how his hands itch to reach out and touch his friend’s hair,  shoulders,  down to his fingers.  to tug him against his body for a never-ending embrace.

‘  ah,  yeah.  actually  —  stede’s got this oil thingy that works like a dream.  could show it to you one of these days,  if you’d like.  ’   it’s meant to be received as an offer and a reminder both.  that edward very much plans to have him in his life,  too.  and stede,  bless his heart,  hasn’t taken offense to it.   '  it would have been worth it,  anyway.  nevermind this old thing.  ’   he feels his lips pull up in a smile and that’s when he throws any lingering hesitation down to hell,  fingers intertwining with izzy’s own.  a touch equal parts gentle and anchoring,  one he doesn’t wish to part from a moment too soon.  it prompts edward to a little bit of honesty of his own.   '  felt weird out there for a bit. i kept turning around to look for you the first few days,  like a raving mad lunatic drunk on saltwater… guess what i’m trying to say is that i missed you. ’

     AS EDWARD’S HAND FALLS AWAY, izzy thinks to himself that he should have known his answer would come right back to bonnet.  if he said that the stars was bright tonight, no doubt his captain would tell him that stede had hung them himself by hand.  perhaps it shouldn’t sting so much.  but for decades, izzy had been the one to look after edward, to soothe his pains  &  tend to his every whim.  but in the end, stede had won out, offered something that izzy couldn’t.  &  that hurts almost as much as the dull ache in his foot. though this is a sharper pain, directly in the center of his chest.  but at least edward is happy  —  happier than izzy has seen him in years, truth be told.  &  he could never stand in the way of that; could never deny his captain anything.                                                   &  then his hand returns, interlacing their fingers gently together.  it’s such a strange  &  unfamiliar gesture that for a moment, izzy can’t breathe, his gaze falling to their entwined hands with something akin to fascination.  though when his captain speaks, his eyes return to his face of their own accord, unable to be held away a moment longer.  i missed you,  edward admits, &  izzy feels his throat tighten around a fresh ball of emotion.                      ❝ i missed you too, edward. ❞  he finally responds, his voice so soft it might be carried off by a gust of wind.  what more could he say ?   that ever since he was young, izzy had not felt like himself without edward by his side ?  that every day spent without him, he felt like a ship unmoored, tossed aimlessly about on a stormy seas ?  that for all that lucius asked him what it was he wanted, all izzy had ever truly wanted was edward ?  surely he knew.  but izzy had to try to speak it  —  at least some of it.  they were both trying now, wasn’t that the point ?  so he swallows, forces the words out of his mouth one at a time.  ❝ i hated being without you. i always have. ❞  his eyes drop again, studying their interlaced hands again.  ❝ i was worried about you, too.  you always were too fucking impulsive, especially when you went off on your own. ❞  &  he pauses, pulling a slow breath before he says,  ❝ don’t know what i would’ve done with myself if you didn’t come back. ❞ 

🪐 — EDWARD TEACH​  for  stede !

a pitiful scoff and a low grumble later,   edward complies,  brought to stillness under the touch of stede’s hand.  and it’s a damn miracle,  or near to it,  to witness such lack of movement from him  —  edward teach moves with the wind,  just like the waves now gently rolling against the hull,  and shifts like a storm even in slumber.  there’s none of that now,  while stede wipes away the mess of dried tears and smudged black paint sticking to his skin.  then a flash of gold burns at the corner of his vision,  followed by the glimpse of a wrist and edward turns his head towards it before he can stop himself.  sure,  stede had been close earlier,  when he had pressed himself almost flat to the man,  but this is different.  this sends his heart into a mad gallop,  breath halting in his chest before he has the chance to draw it out.  now that the ugly affair of crying their eyes out has ceased,  edward finally has the presence of mind to notice what he’s missed before,  what he has been missing for weeks on end:  the colour of stede’s eyes,  that gut wrenching stede-like way he has of looking at him,  like he is someone deserving of tenderness and careful touches and such alien things.  the nice stuff.  everything he has been denied for so long.  stede fucking bonnet indeed,  coming back here without even having the decency of meeting his anguished anger on equal grounds.  the mad rogue. when stede proclaims this cleaning thing done with,  voice low and gentle,  edward can’t help himself any longer,  pressing close instead of drawing away like he was meant to  —  still seated on the ground,  he wounds an arm around stede’s waist,  then rests his head against his chest with none of the desperate urgency of earlier.   ‘  you came back.  ’   he sighs,  relief and exhaustion both warring through him,  causing his body to nearly sag against the other.  for now,  until he drags his feet out there to face the crew,  this is all that matters.  all he can think of.  the rest, along with the consequences of his own actions, can wait. '  your shirt’s proper fucked.  ’   a fit of sleep deprived lunacy has his shoulders shake with barely stifled laughter,  before edward has the sense to regain some clarity.   '  oh,  right.  your auxiliary wardrobe hasn't—  everything’s still there.  summer linens and all the rest.  ’   those,  at least,  he spared from being tossed into the ocean,  refusing to let anyone beyond that secret door of his,  not even uttering a word about it. 

    IT TAKES SOME TIME  to remove the all kohl from his face, but edward is patient  &  still under the gentle touches. &  when his skin is finally clean again, stede braces himself for the inevitable absence that will come.  ed is going to leave now,  &  stede is prepared to let him.  that is what he wants, after all  —  some space between them to gather his throughts.  so he’s surprised when the other man leans against him instead, head tucked against stede’s chest  &  a strong arm curled around his waist.  &  it’s second nature to pull edward closer, welcoming him into another embrace, arms looping around his shoulders, right hand stroking comfortingly through his long dark hair.                        ❝ of course i came back —  i’m only sorry that i left you in the first place.  i’ll never leave you again, darling, i swear it. ❞  the words call to mind a day not so long ago, when stede had thought himself abandoned, only for edward to return just in time to save his life.  but it was clear that his own timing was not yet as finely honed as the other man’s  —  &  stede’s hesitation had resulted in undeniable damage not only to edward, but to the crew as well.  he could only hope that he was not too late to heal some of the hurt he had caused with his cowardice.        &  at the mention of his ruined shirt, stede cannot help but chuckle.  ❝ it’s alright, ed, really.  don’t even concern yourself with it.  after all, it’s just a bit of fabric, right ?  easily replaced. ❞  as if such a silly thing even mattered at all to him anymore.  since he had given up his wealth in its entirety to mary  &  the children, the fine silks  &  linens he had donned all his life seemed to hardly suit him.  he was no longer a man of means, but a filthy pirate, just like the rest of his crew.  in his absence, edward appeared to have gotten rid of most of the furniture, books,  &  clothing that had previously filled his luxurious cabin  —  save for a familiar fuchsia robe he spied thrown over the bed like a blanket, that is.  but at the thought of his auxiliary wardrobe remaining untouched throughout the tirade of destruction, stede feels a tightness in his chest. edward had been the only one he had ever shown that room.  &  to hear that he had protected that particular secret even after being abandoned by him, stede finds he is strangely touched at the kindness of the gesture.  ❝  well, that’s  —  that’s very kind of you.  thank you.  i’m sure that will be more than enough.  &  i would really like to put on something clean. ❞  after all, he had spent days on end in a rowboat trying to catch up to the revenge,  &  the shirt he was wearing had long ago become soiled  &  stained with sweat.

🪐 — EDWARD TEACH​  for  izzy !

here’s the tragedy:   a beautiful boy is sitting on your bed.  he doesn’t tell you he loves you,  but he does.  devotion stronger than a cannon ball to the gut,  the kind of it he would drown for,  if only you asked.  edward lays his head on the bed,  eyes on the ceiling for a moment or two before turning them on izzy  —  the angle is a bit weird,  and his neck will soon start to feel funny,  but he makes it work somehow.   ‘  whatever you want,  really.  just make it piraty enough.  ’   he thinks on it,  shakes his head and then turns to face the bed,  elbows on it,  one hand ending up on izzy’s knee for good measure.  no,  it’s not enough.  he wanted this moment to be branded on both their minds,  something undeniable,  a tether and that only works two ways instead of just one. 

'  wanna do something crazy,  iz?  ’   a near whisper,  as if they’re conspiring,  or on the edge of something greater than themselves,  his eyes now boring into izzy’s ones without pause.  perhaps it’s the fading adrenaline from the earlier raid,  but he feels a touch dizzy,  as if drunk or feverish.   '  do the same for me.  mark me,  make me yours.  ’   this is not what captains usually ask of their first mates,  edward is pretty sure,  but he also couldn’t care less.  carve your name into my arm and lick the blood from it afterwards,  only then will i know we are inextricably bound. 

      IT IS NOTHING LESS THAN A BLESSING  to have edward’s eyes on him.  despite his father’s attempts, izzy had never become a religious man.  how could he believe in anything greater than this ?  when edward looks at him, he knows that there is nothing in any heaven that could hope to match the rush he feels, nor is there anything from any hell that could keep izzy away from him now.  ‘ want to do something crazy ? ’  edward asks him,  &  he doesn’t even have to consider it before he’s nodding  —  he’s already crazy for him.                               but it’s what comes next that shocks izzy into stillness, a breath pulling sharply into his lungs when edward says ‘ make me yours. ’   &  for a moment, he is certain he must have misheard.  he belongs entirely to his captain, of course.  that much felt so obvious that it went without saying, especially now that he wore the proof of their bond plain on his face.  but the idea that edward wants to belong to him, too is something izzy has never expected,  &  surely never dared let himself hope for.  there is nothing he would not do for his captain if it was asked of him.  but this is something he would actually ask for, if he could ever manage to find the voice to speak with.  ❝ edward, ❞  is all he manages at first.  &  when izzy says his name it sounds rather like a prayer.                 &  then he moves, eager to take the opportunity before edward loses that manic look that izzy loves so much. not a moment later, his captain is laying out on the sleeping bunk instead with a bottle in his left hand, his first mate perched loyally at his side.  edward’s right arm is extended out so that izzy can hold the hand firmly in his left, with the needle re-inked in his right.  &  in spite of the adrenaline that’s running through him, his grip is steady, just as he promised.  ❝ i’m going to put the first one right here, ❞  he says, tapping a smooth spot on the back of edward’s hand near his wrist.  ❝ if you like it, you can have more.  but this one here, this is ours.  this one will be just for us. ❞   &  then izzy catches his captain’s eye one final time before the needle descends, smoothing the place he plans to press their mark into with soothing strokes of his thumb.  ❝ &  don’t bite your tongue off, ❞  is his final warning before leaning forward  &  pressing the first beads of ink beneath his skin.

🪐 — EDWARD TEACH  for  stede !

if only he weren’t so ridiculously spellbound,   then yes,  he would manage to free himself rather quick.  a well placed kick,  or maybe just a knee,  and stede would probably go down  —  but this is hardly him sparring,  is it?  the real thing has never been this meek.  edward teach doesn’t just give up without fighting until the end,  and yet he is rendered harmless without even a blade against his throat.  stede is not helping matters,  on his part,  keeping up that talk.  he clearly doesn’t know what mess he is making of edward’s brain.  and it’s bloody unfair of him.  absolutely maddening.   ‘  yeah,  that’s right  —  you won,  stede.  why don’t you just kiss me and be done with it?  ’   damn his tongue,  too loose and disconnected from his brain to function as it should.  he will claim to have taken a nonexistent blow to the head,  if this goes south.  because surely that’s going to work. 

   IT MUST BE A TRAP.  that’s the first thing he thinks  — that this will be just like back in his boarding school days, when nigel had tricked him into french-kissing one of the stable horses in front of everyone.   &  the long-ago quieted laughter of his classmates echoes in his ears as stede recoils back a step, forcing some distance between them as his face flushes hot with embarrassment.  ❝ what ?  but i wasn’t  —  i didn’t mean — ❞  his blade drops at his side, the duel entirely forgotten,  &  stede’s eyes follows it to the finely lacquered deck, suddenly unable to look ed in the face.  in the past, denial has always suited him best, but his sudden nerves make the words overflow disconnectedly from his lips.  ❝ i’ve never  —  well, it’s not that i’ve  never.  but mary  &  i,  we didn’t often  —  she didn’t seem to  —  ❞  &  even stede can tell he’s babbling now, cutting himself off mid-sentence with a dry laugh.  ❝ that is to say, i didn’t expect that  kissing  would be part of our captaining lessons.  i thought that pirates were usually so busy raiding  &  dueling each other that they had little time left over for such... activities ? ❞

IZZY ALWAYS HAS A PLAN,  &  tonight is no different.  as he descends silently belowdeck  &  makes for the brig, the only step left to execute is don't get caught.  he didn't know exactly what would happen to him if his majesty's finest apprehended him in an attempt to free a pirate they had taken prisoner.  but after the brutality he had witnessed them inflict upon the beautiful young man they had captured by chance, izzy had not been able to stop himself from taking the risk.  it had been all he could think about then — when he'd screamed, when he'd doubled over, when the soldiers had laughed  &  taunted him  —  how to get the man off this ship before they could harm him again.  &   izzy is quite sure that he can do it, but he has to act quickly.  so with a stolen key  &  no hesitation, he opens the cell  &  steps inside.

an injured predator can be dangerous,  &  izzy remembers well how quickly the man had thrown himself at the leutienant when he’d attacked his mother's heritage.  but while there is a sword at his belt, izzy makes no move for the blade.  it is not meant for this man.  instead, his hands extend, palms up to show that he means no harm. ❝ no tricks.  i swear it.  on my mother.  ❞  his tone softens when he speaks of her, as it always does.

the dim light in the brig makes it hard to assess the scale of the man’s injuries.  but he had heard the crack of the rifle against the bone himself,  &  he can imagine the pain must be immense.  izzy can help him up the stairs  &  across the deck, but the plan will fall to pieces if he can't hold himself upright enough to row.  ❝ listen, i have a tender rigged  &  waiting for you.  i’m on deck watch tonight, so no one will see you leave.  i can help you get up the stairs  &  into the boat,  &  you should be able to put enough distance between yourself  &  this vessel before daylight if you row hard  &   travel with the current.  but you have to go now. ❞  &  then he extends his right hand, a clear offering of help.  ❝ it's ok.  you can trust me. ❞

he must have lost consciousness,   between a rifle smashing against his knee and officers dragging him carelessly to the brig of one of his majesty's damn ships.  at the very least they weren't laughing on their way down,  nobody was:  the agony rippling through his bones had triggered the worst of his temper like a dynamite fuse being lit.  even bound and with nausea threatening to empty his stomach right there on deck,  edward had scratched,  bitten,  and attempted to throttle at least one blue coated bastard   (   no such luck,  the fellow's still breathing   ).  the whip he could have endured,  he's tasted it a few times on hornigold's ship,  the sneers too   (   boring,  unoriginal,  the same old drivel that could have been directed at any pirate   ),  but then it had gotten personal.  then they thought it would have been funny to tell him that a cage is the only fit place for someone like him.  and his mother both.  to make it absolutely clear it wasn't about pirates anymore.

the sound of a door closing causes his head to snap up from the floor,  where he was laying curled around his knee,  and agony jolts through him anew as he scrambles to sit with his back to the wall.  vision blurs and then doubles,  but @musecraft 's voice makes it above the ringing in his ears enough to be heard:  hey, how badly are you hurt? can you move? you think you can walk?

'  fuck —  '   the first thing out of his lips is a pained gasp,  followed by a few shaking breaths.  he almost wishes the man would bludgeon him in the head and return him to blissful darkness.   '  stay away from me.  '   he manages to hiss a weak warning,  finally.  but even with pain clenching his jaw leeching his face of color,  he doesn't remember this one being among the laughing bastards above deck.  edward has learned to analyze a dangerous situation quickly and he's sure of it,  as much as he is sure that his knee is utterly fucked.  brows furrow then,  and he blinks in a desperate attempt to clear that awful fog from his eyes.   '  are you trying to fucking trick me?  '

    WHEN EDWARD SMILES,  he looks like the man he’d been when izzy first met him.  the silver streaking his hair  &  the creases that form when his lips curl make no difference ; he still has that same glint in his eyes that refuses to go out.  & regardless of all that has happened since then  — &  everything he might have said to the contrary — izzy did not regret his decision.  he would choose to save edward again, every time, no matter what the consequences might be.  &  when he playfully jostles their hands ( the idea that he might not talking about stede leaving him breathless ), izzy can only hope that ed knows how he feels.

          but in spite of all they've discussed recently, all the agreements they have come to in hopes of moving forward together, there is still a lingering sensation of guilt.  in the quiet moment where they sit with their fingers entwined, izzy hears the memory of his own voice returning to haunt him.  &  even when edward dismisses him from his post, izzy doesn't move, eyes downcast  &  shadowed.  hoping that he knows is no longer good enough ;  edward deserves to hear the truth.

        ❝ ed — ❞  he starts, voice soft  &  low.   ❝ you know, when i … when i said that i should've let the english — ❞  he breaks off.  he can't even bring himself to say it a second time, even now. &  after a beat he gives up  &  moves on.  ❝ i never should have said that. i'm sorry. ❞  &  slowly, as though it's a real challenge, izzy drags his eyes up from where their hands are still curled tightly together  &  back to ed's face.  ❝ i didn't mean it. you know that, right ? i didn't mean it. ❞

his gaze doesn't drop,   it holds fast to izzy's face,  nearly unblinking.  for years,  for two whole decades   (  un-fucking-believable!   ),  edward had looked at his first mate without really seeing the whole of him,  the answer that was nestled right there,  between unflinching devotion and fierce protection.  edward had suspected,  at the very least,  yet in the end failed to connect two very important dots:  this is not something he had clearly seen before,  on the deck of a ship or in more or less clean taverns,  a passing fancy.  this is a larger than life feeling,  almost,  and edward has finally learned to feel comfortable enough in his own skin to not bolt away from it in terror.  nah,  he runs towards it and doesn't let go.

he smiles a bit to himself,  then,  but it gets comically dispelled by izzy's words.  he opens his mouth in protest   (   you little—   ),  in fact,  only to begrudgingly close it shut on the basis that izzy hands is,  unquestionably,  right.  as he often is.   '  yeah,  alright.  stayed out of trouble this time,  though,  didn't I?  '   his smile returns,  shifting into a grin with no small amount of mirth to it.   '  knew there was someone important waitin' for me here.  '   he gives their still joined hands a little shake,  as if to say yeah it's you,  feeling absolutely mad with giddiness under the moonlight and loving every second of it.  which is why it takes him a couple more minutes to actually get to what got him climbing up to the nest in the first place.   '  hey,  you should get some rest.  i'll take the watch.  '

     THERE’S A DELAY, but it only lasts a breath. then a hand is closing around his, strong & determined, the pirate pulling himself to his feet. yet no sooner does he straighten than he stumbles again, his injured leg evidently unable to hold him. izzy is quick to slip himself beneath his arm, taking on some of the weight from his weakened side. ❝ it's up the stairs or under the hull, so up you go. ❞ he half-carries the taller man as they hobble together first up the narrow stairs & then across the empty deck. it's slow-going, but they don't stop even for a moment. when they reach the waiting rowboat, there is a brief breathless laugh at his side. & izzy thinks to himself that enduring a lashing would be well worth it for the chance to hear that sound again.

                    ❝ i told you, didn't i ? ❞ he responds softly, smiling in spite of himself. ❝ come on, get in. ❞ at his bidding, the man slips out of his arms to pull himself over the railing & into the dinghy. izzy misses the touch immediately. but there’s no time to mourn its absence — if they are caught now, it will all have been for nothing. ❝ row east, into the sunrise. the current is with you, & so is the wind. we shouldn't be able to easily follow you. ❞ his voice is little more than a breath, his hands moving fast to unfasten the tie-offs & prepare the rowboat to be lowered into the inky tide below. ❝ there's rations & water enough for five days, but you should reach land well before that if you keep your heading. ❞ the main knot falls open, but izzy holds it taut to allow himself one last look at edward teach. he truly is beautiful, almost unbearably so. the sky above is scattered with stars, & his wide dark eyes seem to reflect them all as the two men look at each other. they are from entirely different worlds, izzy knows, one clad in a pirate's leathers & the other in a royal navy uniform. but for a moment it seems their hearts beat in tandem, matching the steady rhythm of the waves. then izzy clears his throat & the moment passes, the final rope ready to release. ❝ you have to go. now. ❞

try as he might to make sense of the situation,   edward can do nothing but watch the man as he approaches,  slowly,  with no sneer or taunt on his lips.  his head spins,  sight faltering again and for a moment,  all he can see is the awful blue of his coat,  his words entirely forgotten   (   on my mother   ).  for a moment that stretches on forever,  he is surrounded and helpless again,  at the doubtlessly nonexistent mercy of the navy,  not for people like him anyway.  but then again,  even if they were to offer him a way out from certain execution in the form of service to them,  he'd only spit it back in their faces.  he finally shifts his stare to look up at the man's face,  realizing with some delay that he is talking,  in the middle of some long speech that edward only catches in fragments.  he's got the relevant bits,  and they make enough sense with the offered hand,  but he can't help looking at the officer like he has suddenly grown a siren's tail.

'  what the fuck,  man.  '   it has to be a quick decision,  he knows that,  there's no time for hesitation.  his only other option is doomed from the start  —  he can do jack shit on his own,  not with the state of his leg,  even if he were to incapacitate him somehow and steal his sword.  he'd still make a stupid,  insane,  bound to fail effort,  however.  you can trust me.  he grabs the hand,  of course he does.  he tries to kid himself,  half heartedly thinking that what comes next won't be so bad,  but getting on his feet,  putting even the slightest amount of weight on his bad leg is agonizing.  face blanched,  he almost passes out cold,  a black cloud obscuring his sight for a heart beat.  he doesn't remember deciding to do it,  yet lets the solid body near him hold him up with no resistance.   '  up the stairs,  huh?  gonna be fun.  '   he tries for humor,  even through teeth clenched so tight they start to hurt.  and up the stairs they do go indeed,  even though edward feels so sick he thinks he might loose it any moment, clutching that blasted coat with near to numb fingers.  when edward finally catches sight of the rowboat,  waiting for them just like the man said,  he feels like deliriously laughing.  he gasps out a startled half chuckle,  instead.   '  you really weren't kidding.  fuckin' lunatic.  '

         COME WITH ME, he says, like it's the easiest thing in the world. like izzy could just step over the railing & into the waiting tender & desert his post & never look back. like he could leave this ship — the only place he had ever felt  that he belonged to something — & sail into the night with the most beautiful man he’d ever seen & not the faintest clue of what might wait for them tomorrow. ❝ me ... go with you ? ❞ he repeats, his disbelief plain. surely it couldn't be that easy. offers like this weren’t extended to men like him.

                              but edward teach is still lingering there in the starlight looking at him expectantly, like he actually wants izzy at his side. & he is right, after all — if his superiors discover that he had helped their prisoner escape, he would hang for treason. even if they didn’t, failing in his duties as night watchman was likely to earn him twenty lashes. izzy had accepted the price all along; it had been just another inevitable cost of life under the crown. but when he is offered another course, it’s as if the tethers that had been holding him aboard are severed in an instant. & izzy pulls himself over the railing to let himself drop into the rowboat in a single decisive movement, the descent line still in his hand. ❝ you know, something tells me i might be fucked either way, ❞ he says, even as a smile comes to his face, wide & wild. & izzy gradually releases his grip, the small boat lowering into the dark water below. ❝ but going with you will probably be more fun, eh ? ❞

edward breathes in the night air as the man speaks,   eyes closed,  already tasting freedom along with the salt on his tongue.  he doesn't appear to be,  but he is listening and closely at that,  his gut telling him that his improbable saviour is right   (   even the navy happens upon decent sailors once in a while,  it seems   ).  when edward opens his eyes again,  it's sudden,  the look of someone startled out of his wits and is not quite grasping what's going on.  it has nothing to do with the pain lancing up his leg in steady waves and everything to do with the man still standing behind the railing,  up on the ship.  his half delirious brain must have taken quite the leap without his mouth following through,  simply assuming he wouldn't have left there alone,  and is now struggling to catch up to speed.

''  hey,  no.  wait.  ''   jaw clenches as he struggles to pull himself on his feet again,  hanging on to a rope secured to the side of the hull.  for some reason,  the way he used we sits like an anchor weighting on his sternum,  pressing down and not supposed to be there.   ''  this fucking place is a cage,  don't you see it?  ''   oh he could throw dirt on his majesty's flag all night long,  but they don't have that much time so edward will have to make do.   ''  come with me.  you're fucked if they find out what you did,  anyway.  ''

🪐 — spotify wrapped memes : @walkpathe ( edward ) for stede # 63 ▶ i love my baby by nina simone

WHEN HE WAS A BOY, stede had always hoped that he would someday marry for love. of course, that not being the case, he had ultimately found marriage to be a rather uncomfortable endeavor. but now, with edward's eyes both shy & hopeful as they wait for his answer, stede knows in his heart that the arrangement he proposes would be nothing like the constricting obligatory institution he'd experienced before.

& so, smiling, he carefully slips a ring from his own finger — the turquoise one they had exchanged on that first day they'd met — & gently onto ed's left hand instead. ❝ just say you love me, & we'll go find a preacher man. ❞ stede was certain that they could find some wayward holy man that was either drunk or poor enough to perform a bastardized wedding between two men. & if not, well, they could always ask a captain to marry them at sea, just as lucius & pete had done. ❝ we'll live our lives together. hand in hand. ❞

🪐 — spotify wrapped memes : @walkpathe ( edward ) for izzy # 44 ▶ my limb by hayley williams

❝ IT'S FUNNY — ❞ izzy speaks the lie with bitter irony in his tone, both of them well aware that there is precious little humor to be found here. ❝ of the two of us, you always were the gentle one. ❞ over his long years spent as blackbeard's sword, izzy had always known that he might one day pay a heavy price for his devotion to the defense of their shared myth. he had accepted the potential cost to himself years ago, the price one he was more than willing to pay to keep them safe. but what he'd never expected was for the worst hurt he had endured by far to come from his captain's own hands. & despite his stubborn desire to ignore the loss, it seemed that a wound took twice as long to heal when it was inflicted by someone you loved. ❝ when we first met, you were like a shy little rabbit, teething on a shotgun. ❞ his phantom limb tingles with an itch that can no longer be scratched.