Chapter Text
Izzy had no clue why he was the way he was.
It wasn’t in his family. None of them knew and they all were… normal. They never gagged at the food most people ate and they never moved weirdly. Never cut their mouths on their teeth.
Wasn’t a curse, he had it as long as he could remember. His parents, as awful as they were to their children, never caused a fuss with anyone else.
It was just… how he was.
It was a ravenous hunger when he was little. A constant tearing at his insides but he assumed that’s how everyone felt. There was never enough food.
His parents would joke. Mention changelings, but they were Catholic they claimed. The fae can’t steal a baptized baby.
Now he knew it wasn’t the lack of food that was the problem.
So, here he was, a few hours after telling Ed that he would be staying on the ship while everyone else went on land. The entire crew had jumped at the chance to get away from him, always trying to keep their distance after the whole Kraken thing. Ed hadn’t bothered to argue, seeing how everyone lit up.
So he had laid in wait. Sitting in the shadow, waiting for someone to screw up. To try to hit an easy mark.
And someone tried. It was quick. Yeah, Izzy preferred it to be as fresh as possible and a person was hard to eat before it got cold but he didn’t want to deal with a fight. Didn’t have time to waste. With a simple bite to the back of their neck, they were gone.
Maybe he should feel guilty. Ed did. Stede did. Even though Jim didn’t admit it, sometimes he could see it. The guilt that lingered around people like them.
Never had it. There was just… two types of people. His crew and a meal.
Everything melted on his tongue. He didn’t chew, swallowing everything as quickly as possible.
His teeth were larger, extending like a knife from a sheath. He bit down on of the ribs, cracking it so he could get to their heart.
The air crackled and he fought back any noises, focusing on eating as quickly as he could so he could get to cleaning the mess.
He was always so careful. Years spent feeding at raids, in alleys behind bars, in tavern rooms where he lured someone in when he was desperate enough.
He suddenly became aware of a second set of breathing and jerked up.
Stede looked down at him, crouched over the cracked open ribcage of someone. Well, what used to be someone. He had a lantern in one hand, making the shadows around them both seem that much more menacing.
They both froze, Stede meeting Izzy’s dark eyes with an infuriating lack of horror in his expression. He must’ve been watching for a while, considering how outwardly calm he was.
Izzy could see his heart beat though, watched the warmth pump through his veins. Regardless of how schooled he was keeping his expression, he was definitely scared.
He wondered if it was because he caught his first mate eating someone or because he didn’t use better manners before doing so.
Izzy’s hands were dark, ending in sharp claws that had a black hue even darker than the blood coating him. He thrummed his nails against the wood, trying to think of what to do. Stede’s eyes followed the motion, seeing the tips of his nails cut into the wood. His teeth bit into his lip nervously and he started to back up.
There was no way Ed wouldn’t find out it was him if he threw Stede overboard.
No way he could stay if Stede lived and told.
Always so careful. Course he fucks up around Bonnet.
“Did they hurt you?” Stede sounded shaky. He had backed all the way up against the railing, narrowly missing the stairs. That would’ve been convenient. However the idea of Stede’s body sprawled on the floor was not the best. Head wounds were such a dumb way to die.
Izzy continued to stare, swallowing the mouthful of whatever he had taken from the person. He couldn’t talk. Never could. Always felt like part of the punishment. Never able to fully explain himself until it was too late. Until whoever had caught him had already put it together.
After a moment of agonizing quiet, he just shook his head once.
Stede seemed to have the good sense to figure out Izzy wasn’t being quiet out of pettiness.
“Do you do this often?”
A small nod.
“Do you have a choice in the matter?”
What an odd question. Technically, sure. Izzy could force himself to eat the stuff Roach cooked. He was sure it tasted good to them. Really, he did. It smelled great. But it always tasted like rocks, felt like seawater in his stomach. Made him nauseous and ill. Eventually, he’d lose it. Eat whoever was closest, regardless of who it was. Maybe he could cage himself and starve. But he refused to die like a dog.
He couldn’t let that person be Ed either.
He shook his head again.
Stede regarded him, this… thought brewing in his head. Izzy felt like if he just strained a little, he could hear the gear in his head, to whatever awful, terrible conclusion he had.
“I’m going to be in the captain’s quarters. Please come down there when you’re… done.” He turned around and fled. Braver than most to turn his back on him.
Or just stupid.
His heartbeat continued, the usual pace of Stede Bonnet, just a little faster.
Izzy hesitated before returning to eating. Regardless of what happened, be a lot easier to handle if he wasn’t half starved with a dead body on board.
Once there was almost nothing left, he threw the bones in the sea and leaving the blood all over his face, went down to the quarters like ordered. He didn’t even bother putting himself together. Stede had seen him rip someone’s liver out and eat it. He could deal with it.
Stede sat on his settee, two cups of tea on the table in front of him. His hands shook a little when Israel entered, looking rather…
He looked at Israel closer. His hair mussed and wet. Two… tufts of what appeared to be hair stuck up. It reminded him of when Ed had taken him into the forest of Virginia to look for birds and he had seen a horned owl for the first time. They swiveled slightly, only worsening the connection.
His pale skin was covered in red, staining him from his cheeks to the his chest where the shirt had been stretched and pulled down. His lips were clean but bruised. It shouldn’t have, but it made Stede thing of the bruises that come from kissing.
But his eyes kept drawing him. Dark pools of black like a shark. As he moved forward, shadows would cover his face and they’d glow like an animals.
Stede tried not to stare but it was hard.
Under the bed, in a secret compartment that Stede hadn’t even told Ed about, there were a handful of romance novels. Mary had referred to them as bodice rippers, but Stede didn’t think that description fit at all. The men in those were monsters. Literally.
They were a guilty pleasure and every time he focused too hard on Izzy, he could feel his heart speed up.
Israel sat in front of him, posture loose and doll like rather than the usual tight laced person Stede was used to.
“Can you speak now?”
Izzy cleared his throat. “A little.” His voice was hoarse. Rubbed raw.
“You haven’t… changed back.”
“Takes… time.”
“Ah…” Stede sipped his tea quietly. “This… explains things. Couple of the crew noticed you never eat…”
“Hurts.” Izzy didn’t have the energy to put up walls. After eating, he was too lax. Vulnerable. A snake in the sun. A nap sounded nice honestly. He didn’t notice that Stede devoured the skin he revealed every time he shifted around.
“Is this why you get… nauseous? I can imagine having to eat a person would be… taxing. Have you always been like this? If its a curse I’m sure Ed wo-” Stede was starting to ramble and he was a bit glad Izzy cut him off.
“Born this way. Ed will not find out.”
Stede flickered his attention up to him, wary for just a moment. He considered it before nodding. “I won’t tell Ed…”
“Human stuff makes me sick. Not the other way around.” He took a deep breath and his hands returned to normal. “Also hunger makes it worse. Try not to do this often but… Can’t not do it.”
Stede looked nervous, wondering if there was a chance he or one of the crew could ever be on the menu. “How often are you supposed to… eat?”
“Every few weeks. Ideally, every week but that’s not really possible when you never go on a raid. So I’ve been getting by with occasionally robbers or people trying to get on the ship.” Izzy hissed at him a little.
“Oh… that…makes so much sense. No wonder you’re always bloodthirsty! You’re starving, poor thing.” Stede looked concerned and Izzy had to fight back several reactions.
One, how dare he.
Two, how dare he figure him out so easily.
Three, poor thing??
His tufts laid flat against his head and he snarled softly. “Doesn’t matter. I need to get cleaned up before the crew is back.”
“I could help.” Stede said cheerfully.
Izzy almost bit off his own tongue. “I can clean myself up. Thanks.”
“What? No! I mean… You need time away from everyone… Yes? Need to lure people to you and get them alone.” Stede wanted to see more. Wanted to see what Israel was capable of. The idea of killing was… But his reservations were overshadowed by a painful curiosity.
Izzy just stared, dumbfounded that this idiot, who could barely kill a person normally or in self defense, just offered to help Izzy with hunting.
“I could… help.” Stede leaned forward, so painfully sincere.
“No. No you can’t. Ed would kill me.” It was tempting though. Maybe Stede would get scared and leave.
“Ed is never going to find out. Now, go clean up. Use my bathroom, it’ll be quicker and they’ll be back soon.” Stede said it with such finality that Izzy just nodded. He went into the bathroom and scrubbed himself clean. He tried to figure out what ulterior motive Stede could have.
Stede thought about Izzy’s gaze again and shivered.
God he hated how attractive that little bastard was.