chiyani
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The captain’s cabin had been full of mirrors.
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Edward needs to get out of his head. Jim is happy to oblige him. Izzy would like to be, too, but it's not that easy.
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where no storms come by arriviste for Mavariel
Fandoms: The Silmarillion and other histories of Middle-Earth - J. R. R. Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings - J. R. R. Tolkien
06 Sep 2021
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There were many empty rooms in Rivendell. But there were many guests, too, Elves who had arrived in order to cross the sea in the same great convoy as Elrond himself. They were waiting for the last to arrive, and then they would depart, streaming across the wilds and plains of Eriador, over the Ered Luin, down into Lindon. With them would go history, wisdom, learning and memory: beauty and song. And it would not come back.
Among this throng, Maglor passed, perhaps, as a wild Elf, who had come in from the wilderness to make that journey with them.
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At the end of the Third Age, Maglor finds his way to Rivendell, and must decide whether or not to sail West with Elrond.
(Written to partner this beautiful piece of art by mavariel - #133).
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Then Jim says, flatly, “You’re the reason he’s like this now, aren’t you.”
Izzy glares at them. “He’s always been ‘like this,’” he spits. “You wouldn’t know, you never saw him before.”
Jim shakes their head. “You woke something up,” they say. “In him.” They look him up and down pointedly. The bandages on his foot, his shoulder, his side; the red mark around his neck. “And now it’s going to kill you.”
Izzy gets what he wanted. And then, he gets a whole lot more.
Bookmarked by chiyani
06 Jul 2022
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“Isn’t it easier, being the monster?” Izzy whispers. “Doesn’t it feel better?”
The knife presses in harder, a hair’s breadth away from breaking skin.
“It feels like nothing,” Ed says. “It feels like absolutely nothing at all.”
a mad, blood-soaked, full-tilt race into tragedy. perfect pacing, PERFECT ending — left me breathless. THESE TWO.
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Izzy is always the first one to arrive at the pub, signing off on shipments and taking stock, and if Edward shows up it will be just before last call, when Izzy is dead on his feet and can’t say no to a single thing. Truthfully, though, he rarely can.
Every day starts and ends exactly the same way, until a particularly chatty history professor begins sharing his morning commute.
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When he wasn't readying the crew to battle or planning their next move, Blackbeard hid away in his cabin. He drank too much, hardly spoke, and forgot to eat—so Izzy had to stay with him until he got his wits back. He'd done it before, years before they met Bonnet. He could do it again.
Post-finale. Izzy tries to keep Blackbeard distracted.
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Bookmarked by chiyani
04 Jun 2022
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It was a lie, what he said, or at least he thought it was. He wanted it to be. He needed it to be because it was fucking pathetic, wanting to be touched and coddled like that, desperate for skin. It was. It was supposed to be. It was, and the pain didn't make it any less so—and anyway, he still wanted the pain most of all. Edward's hands on him, the knives and tattoo needles, bruises and welts. All of it sent him drifting far, far away, quieting his mind until all he knew was the joy flooding through him.