#in over his head - blackbonnet ficlets

[kharti]

[ In Over His Head #58 ]

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“What was yer wedding like?”

Stede sat up to look down at him in surprise. “What?”

“Y’had one, right?” Ed turned his head, meeting his gaze with a neutral expression. “When y’got married.”

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“What was yer wedding like?”

Stede sat up to look down at him in surprise. “What?”

“Y’had one, right?” Ed turned his head, meeting his gaze with a neutral expression. “When y’got married.”

Stede hesitated. He tried to discern the intent, the why behind the question. But Ed’s face gave him nothing to work with.

So, he laid back down and replied, “It was… ordinary, I suppose. She wore a white dress and we held hands as we were wed. And then we were given our tombstones as wedding gifts.”

The laugh that pulled out of Ed was a loud, startled sound. “Tombstones! The fuck?”

“Morbid, isn’t it?” He couldn’t help laughing, too. “What a dreadful way to celebrate the start of our lives together. ‘Here, you’ll need these when you die, because that’s the next step.’”

Ed snorted and rolled onto his side. He propped his head up against one hand, then asked in a softer voice, “What kind of wedding would y’ve wanted?”

Just as before, Stede hesitated and considered. He couldn’t help the small part of him that wondered at the deeper meaning, if Ed was asking something without using the words.

But that seemed a bizarre notion. Marriage, between the two of them. That implied a sort of forever that he couldn’t imagine. Every day was just one step closer to the day Ed hopped in a dinghy and set off on his next adventure.

He avoided looking into those eyes that seemed to hold an entire world of unspoken words and feelings and thoughts. Instead, he just stared up at the ceiling while the ship creaked and rocked around them.

“It wasn’t something I considered at great length,” he mumbled. “I just knew—or, well, thought, at least, that I would be marrying the love of my life. The remaining details were inconsequential, so long as I looked into the eyes that loved me almost as much as I loved them.”

Fingertips brushed against the back of his hand, and he turned his palm up to intertwine their fingers together. The ceiling blurred as emotions he couldn’t name surged forth and pooled as tears in his eyes.

That was all he’d ever wanted. To love and be loved. It seemed like such a simple request, and had turned into an impossible dream.

And now there was a man he loved, and loved him back, and he was, deep down, terrified of when the dream would come to an end. But the hand holding his was warm, and the man it belonged to was real, and beneath his fear was a frail bit of hope.

“Y’deserve it,” Ed said, as if he could hear the thoughts, and perhaps he could see them in the tear that fell down Stede’s temple. “To be loved. ‘M just sorry it couldn’t come t’you sooner.”

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[elapsed-spiral]

Fic Delivery Service!

So, AO3 is still down and looks like it might be down for a while (boo, leave the poor website alone, ya weirdos).

In the meantime, if you're desperate for a fic, I've got the following fics of mine available as PDFs. As an added bonus, I can send them to the email address of your choosing using the burner email account I used to make my Google Docs SMAU. In other words, if you fancy reading any of the following fics as a PDF, Stede Bonnet can send them to you! DM me if you'd like any!

Cool collaboration(s) you should read immediately:

Work Experience: what if Ed went to meet Stede when the Revenge ran aground? And what if Ed became a member of Stede’s crew? And what if things kept escalating and… Canon AU. Mature. Co-written with Shearwater.

Really no excuse for how stupid these ones are:

Watch Out, Here I Come: what if Stede had been intentionally seducing Ed? Teen

Once More, With Feeling: what if Frenchie just fixed the season 1 finale fiasco because he’s the most capable guy on the ship? Teen

Talent Show: what if Ed was crass about his sexual preferences? Explicit

Capsize on Your Thighs: what if Ed rebounded onto Calico Jack at the end of season 1? Ed/CJ and Ed/Stede (but Ed/Stede is endgame, natch). Explicit

Your Feedback is Important to Us: what if Stede started holding open cabin hours to allow the crew to air their grievances (but was also very repressed and horny over Ed)? Explicit

Oh no Ed’s working through gender/class stuff (but make it funny):

Finery: Ed gets to wear a dress, Stede spontaneously combusts. Explicit

Tell More Tales: Stede isn’t the only writer aboard the Revenge. Explicit

Lovers and Madmen: Ed is hellbent on marrying Stede. Explicit

AUs no-one asked for:

Conflict of Interest: lawyer!Stede/businessman!Ed (read: gangster). Modern AU. Explicit

Intergalactic Tango: Space Waltz AU. Mature

Trade Descriptions Act: bailiff!Ed/estate agent!Stede. Identity theft but make it meet cute. Modern AU. Teen

Baddy Zaddy: Bridget Jones’s Diary style, former porn star turned sex shop owner!Ed/still unfortunately landed gentry!Stede. Novel length modern AU. Explicit

Prize Every Time: You’ve Got Mail-y secret pen pals but also business rivals. Novel length modern AU. Explicit

Your Favourite Song: locksmith!Ed/museum curator!Stede. Kinktober fill that somehow isn’t E rated. Modern AU. Teen

Draft Letter to Restaurant Downstairs: Google Docs AU with a (slightly) interactive element. Modern AU. Teen

Blind Date: Stede and Jeffrey Fettering go on a blind date at Ed’s restaurant. I think you know where this is going. Modern AU. Explicit

Different Dimension: ficlet that crams four and a bit AUs into 850 words. Modern AU. Teen

Stuck Still: British holiday resort AU feat. events manager!Stede and bartender turned fairy!Ed (it makes sense in the story I swear). Modern AU. Explicit

On the Job: “kidnapping” meet cute (but not actually. Again, I swear it makes sense in the story). Modern AU. Teen

Starring Jason Statham: another weird meet cute, courtesy of Jack and the Fast and Furious franchise. Stede/Jack, Ed/Jack and Ed/Stede (Ed/Stede is once again end game). Modern AU. Teen

West Ham Is for Lovers: Lucius has a new job. It’s going fine. Completely, totally fine. A meet cute fic about meet cutes. Ed/Stede but also Lucius/Pete, Lucius/Fang, Lucius/Izzy and Lucius/Olu/Jim. Modern AU. Teen

Proud: Ed attends Pride to get free mum hugs, Stede attends Pride to give free dad hugs. Modern AU. Teen

Conventional: back in the 00s, Ed was in a very famous movie franchise. Nowadays, he does the convention circuit. Modern AU. Explicit

KrakenAir: Stede and the crew are heading to Benidorm to celebrate Stede coming out. That is, if Stede's all expenses spared KrakenAir flight ever departs. Modern AU. Teen

Oh no there’s been a containment breach (aka non-Blackbonnet fics):

We Do What We Like (and We Like What We Do): A brief history of Ed and Jack. Explicit (Ed/CJ)

Fealty: Stede and Izzy make one another even more miserable. Mature (Stede/Izzy)

Contra Proferentem: Ed is a high powered lawyer and Professor of Law at the University of Cambridge. Lucius is not a high powered lawyer but he is a lecturer of English Lit at the University of Cambridge. Stede own a very nice cafe. Explicit (platonic Ed/Lucius, Ed/Stede, no cheating involved)

#ofmd fanfic #gentlebeard fanfic #ofmd #ofmd fic

[kharti]

[ In Over His Head #76 ]

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“Do you have any children roaming about somewhere?” Stede asked, angling his head to look up at Ed.

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“Do you have any children roaming about somewhere?” Stede asked, angling his head to look up at Ed.

Ed returned his look with a frown. “What?”

Stede shifted. The water lapped at the sides of the tub as he moved to turn around and face him. “Children, from prior dalliances. You’ve mentioned before that you’ve been with women, and—”

“I understand what y’mean, just not why yer askin’.” Ed’s brow arched. “And why yer askin’ right now, in the bath.”

“Oh.” Stede smiled and leaned forward to put his weight against Ed, awkwardly lying chest-to-chest with his arms and legs slightly akimbo. “Well, my youngest’s birthday is coming soon, and I suppose that has my thoughts in that direction.”

Gently, Ed wrapped his arms around him and held him in a loose embrace. “Do y’miss them?”

Stede hummed in thought for a while, closing his eyes and giving the simple question serious consideration. “I miss them, in a way. In the way that is normal, I think, but not in the way that my heart is broken.”

Ed tried not to think too much about it. It was a marriage Stede hadn’t wanted, and kids he was obliged to have. It didn’t mean he would leave Ed behind and tell his next lover, I miss Ed in the way that is normal, but not in the way that my heart is broken.

Ed tried, and failed, so he forced his mind elsewhere.

“If I’ve got any kids, I don’t know about’m,” Ed mumbled. “Doubt I do. Hope I don’t.”

“Why do you say that?” Stede drew a fingertip along Ed’s forearm, tracing the swirling tattoos.

With a forced chuckle, Ed replied, “Who’d want Blackbeard for a father?”

Stede jolted, pushing himself upright so he could look directly into Ed’s eyes. “I would.” His eyes widened, then squinted as he wrinkled his nose. “Wait, no, that didn’t come out right. What I mean is—”

Ed chuckled again, this time sincerely. “Y’want t’call me Daddy?”

“No.” Stede visibly shuddered. “No, I don’t.”

Ed shifted forward to change their position, Stede’s back pressed against the side of the tub while he leaned over him, his hair falling like a curtain around their faces. “Y’want me t’call you“—his voice dropped to a deep rumble—“my good boy?”

There was a pause, and Stede frowned. “I dislike that less.”

Ed grinned and lowered his face so his nose touched Stede’s, and he whispered against his lips, “Yer my good boy, Stede.”

Stede looked up at him with soft eyes. He swallowed, pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, and took a breath. “I just meant…” He swallowed again. “You would have made a good father. You’re perceptive, alarmingly so sometimes. And you wouldn’t have made the same mistakes as your own father.”

That stole the breath from his lungs, to have his deepest fear spoken so plainly and simply. He pulled back, then settled at the opposite end of the tub and looked down at the water.

“How do y’know that?” he asked, quietly.

Stede reached out to take his hand and intertwined their fingers. “Because I just do.”

“That’s not much of an answer.” Ed continued to look at the reflection of his face, and even without the beard, it was hard not to see Blackbeard there.

Blackbeard was no different than his father.

They both had no regard for the people they hurt.

They both needed to die, needed to no longer exist and be forgotten.

And they both continued on in spite of that, lived in his head, haunted his mind.

Stede squeezed his hand, and he glanced up to see the man smiling at him.

“I would be delighted to have children with you, if it were possible.”

Ed couldn’t help the warmth that filled the empty expanse of his chest. Couldn’t help the thought that, perhaps, if Stede did leave him, he wouldn’t miss him in the normal way.

That he’d tell his next lover about him, and cry, and have to work hard to mend his broken heart.

Ed didn’t know if the fact that made him feel a little better meant he was a selfish bastard, but he smiled nonetheless.

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[kharti]

[ In Over His Head #101 ]

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Ed knew that tattoos took time to heal, that there was going to be a period of time where it was red and swollen and unappealing.

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Ed knew that tattoos took time to heal, that there was going to be a period of time where it was red and swollen and unappealing.

But the black band around his finger was already the most beautiful fucking thing. He held his hand up to the sun to let the light play with the contrast of the ink and his dark skin. It was uneven, not a perfect width all around—and that made it all the more perfect, really.

The wind tickled the still-sensitive skin, and he brought his hand down to his chest, holding it against his heart.

“Permission to come aboard?”

He lifted his head to see Stede on the rigging, hanging from it near the yardarm that Ed was perched on.

“It’s yer ship,” Ed said, grinning. “Y’don’t need permission.”

Stede gave a huffing laugh and rested his head against the rope. “It’s our ship, Co-Captain.”

“Fair ‘nough.” He gestured with one hand while he shifted, moving to straddle the yard and face Stede while the man hoisted himself up.

His eyes were drawn to the band that matched his own, and he watched it as Stede moved closer until their knees were touching.

“I was thinking,” Stede started, then hesitated.

Ed’s brow arched and he forced his eyes to lift to Stede’s. “Dangerous.”

“Indeed.” Stede pulled his lower lip between his teeth to stifle a smile. “I want you to be honest with me.”

“Always am.”

Stede shifted a little closer. Ed moved to interlock their ankles and brace his hands on the man’s thighs.

“I just don’t want you to agree because I want it,” Stede continued in a mumble. “I don’t want it if you don’t.”

“Well, without knowin’ what it is…”

Stede nodded. “Of course. I just—It’s just a thought, an idea, nothing necessary. I won’t be upset if—”

Ed squeezed both hands, a little harder than needed to ensure he got Stede’s attention. “Come out with it, man!”

“A wedding,” Stede said with a small squeak.

Ed blinked.

“Nothing extravagant, heavens no, I just.” Stede dropped his gaze. He sighed, a bit wistfully, and smiled again. “It seemed. Fun. You, me, the crew—just a little ceremony. And perhaps some flowers.” His eyes flicked back up. “And our very finest clothes.”

Ed’s hands slid up Stede’s thighs as he leaned in. “Y’want a wedding?”

“With you,” Stede said and met him in the middle with a kiss, then mumbled against his lips, “If you’d like.”

If he’d like.

Ed couldn’t help it. He laughed. He pulled away to lay on the yard, their legs still touching, and he stared up at the blue sky overhead.

“What’ve y’got in mind?” he asked, closing his eyes. “Tell me more.”

Stede gave a soft hum. “I told you before, I don’t have much in mind for my ideal wedding.”

A hand touched his knee, gently, thumb rubbing a small circle.

“I just want to marry the love of my life and look into his eyes as I do.”

Ed chuckled. “Isn’t that what we already did? Got th’rings t’prove it.”

“Well!” Stede sputtered a few false starts before he sighed. “I suppose that’s true.”

“So y’don’t need a weddin’.”

There was a pause, and finally Stede admitted quietly, “I thought it would be fun to have a little ceremony. Food and drink. A proper declaration. And…”

Ed lifted his head to look at him. “And?”

Stede’s face turned just a bit red, not a full blush but on its way there. “And I may be a little excited at the idea of… playing out a consummation fantasy, so to speak.”

That got Ed sitting up again, his brow raised. “Consummation fantasy?”

“Well, I know it might sound silly.” He pursed his lips, eyes flicking up to meet his only briefly. “But I find myself fantasizing about what it would have been like, if you were the one I’d been arranged to marry. To be carried to our nuptial bed, to be your blushing bridegroom.”

Ed tilted his head to the side as he mulled it over just long enough to make Stede squirm.

“But it’s quite all right, we don’t—”

“I want lots’f flowers,” Ed interrupted with a feigned casual tone. “An obscene amount. I want t’find petals ‘round the ship fer weeks after.”

Stede’s face lit up. “Of course!”

“An’ a big cake. Too big for the crew t’finish off.”

“Wouldn’t have it any other way.”

“Dancin’, too.”

“Only if the first one is ours.”

Ed scoffed. “Well, obviously.”

They went quiet before Stede leaned in to touch their foreheads together. “I only have one hard no, myself.”

“Which is?”

Stede grinned, a proper cheeky grin that made him look a little devious. “The whole thing’s off if I see a single tombstone.”

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[kharti]

[ In Over His Head #70 ]

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As soon as they stepped foot on deck, someone screamed.

All eyes turned on Pete, who returned the stares with a wide-eyed, baffled expression.

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As soon as they stepped foot on deck, someone screamed.

All eyes turned on Pete, who returned the stares with a wide-eyed, baffled expression.

“Why are you looking at me?” he said, his voice high-pitched and a little squeaky. “Look at him! His beard’s gone! Blackbeard has no beard!”

“Well, I suppose we’ll start there, then,” Stede said with a laugh. “Yes. Blackbeard is, well, no more, so to speak. Say hello to Ed.”

Ed stood beside him, an open smile on his face, fully exposed and visible and bright. “Hullo, lads.”

There was an awkward pause, and then most of the crew offered greetings of varying enthusiasm, some of them even waving.

“Do we have a funeral planned?” Buttons asked. “Fer Cap’n Blackbeard.”

Ed pursed his lips—his lips that Stede couldn’t stop looking at now that they were on display, begging to be kissed, and oh, how different it felt to kiss without the beard, not better but definitely not worse—

Stede blinked, realizing that Ed had asked him a question, and that everyone was staring at him.

“Yes,” he said, mostly certain that whatever it was he would have agreed to, probably, he hoped.

Everyone cheered, and he wondered if he was about to regret that one word.

Ed threw a fist into the air, chanting with the crew, “Viking funeral! Viking funeral!”

Oh. Fire. Well, Stede supposed there were worse things than setting…

“What, exactly, are we giving a Viking funeral?” Stede whispered.

Ed grinned at him, and Stede still couldn’t help losing his breath at how much losing the beard revealed of the man's expressions.

“M’beard, of course,” he said with a laugh.

Stede smiled and waited for the excitement to calm down before the clapped his hands to get their attention again. “Yes, well, all of that aside, there is one more matter to address. Something important we must talk through—”

“—as a crew,” they finished in unison, and some of them even grinned as they did.

He hesitated, emotion swelling up into a lump in his throat. He was so fond of all of them, and truly couldn’t imagine the ship without them.

But they were their own people, and just as he wanted Ed to be true to himself, he had to allow them the same courtesy.

“We will be doing a bit of rebranding here on the Revenge. Ed and I will be retiring as pirate captains to pursue a new career as bounty hunters. I think it suits us rather nicely, and while I would welcome any of you with open arms, I will also understand if you would rather continue this line of work on another ship.”

He breathed in, and tried to smile. “And, of course, I will write glowing recommendation letters for all of you.”

There was a long moment, one filled with murmurs and whispers and exchanged looks. He couldn’t make out any of the words, couldn’t read lips well enough to guess at what they were saying.

Pete cleared his throat and spoke up first. “I think it goes without saying that all of you are terrible pirates. No offense.”

Stede managed a chuckle. “Some taken.”

“So it’s probably best, the career change,” Pete continued, lifting his nose into the air. “I’ll stay, to help, because you guys need me.”

Lucius jabbed his lover in the side with one elbow. “Darling.”

Pete glanced at him, down at his feet, and mumbled, “I’ll stay because I’m a terrible pirate, too.”

“Honestly, I’m not even sure if I ever was a real pirate,” the Swede said, scratching the back of his head. “I was hoping to get on a ship that would run into sirens and spend my life with them.”

One by one, each member of the crew committed to stay, each for their own reasons.

It felt like what Stede had always imagined a wedding would be, in a way—earnest vows, spoken from the heart, a promise to stay together through it all.

Then Ed squeezed his hand and looked at him with too-knowing eyes, and he felt warmth creep along his neck and cheeks.

“To a new beginning,” Ed said in a quiet voice meant only for the two of them.

Stede couldn’t help the beaming smile that took over his blushing face. “To a new beginning.”

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[kharti]

[ In Over His Head #71 ]

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“Stede?”

Stede blinked, lifting his eyes to meet Ed’s. “Yes?”

Ed couldn’t hide the amusement in his voice as he said, “Y’ve been starin’. A lot.”

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“Stede?”

Stede blinked, lifting his eyes to meet Ed’s. “Yes?”

Ed couldn’t hide the amusement in his voice as he said, “Y’ve been starin’. A lot.”

Stede sputtered a couple excuses, then clasped his hands together and held them to his lips. He breathed in, held it, and out. “I am going to say something. But I want you to know that it is said with all the love in the world.”

The amusement faded a bit, replaced by concern. Ed did his best not to, but his mind formulated the words that Stede was about to say.

I hate your face without the beard.

You were more attractive before.

He just sat there and waited while Stede worked up the courage to break his heart.

Instead, Stede said in the softest voice, “You’re so pretty. Beautiful, even. I know that’s not what a man like you might want to hear, but it—it’s true, I’m sorry.”

That was why Ed tried not to think too much. He wasn’t very good at it, and this was proof of it, because he was so floored by the real words that he couldn’t even speak.

“I’m sorry,” Stede started to say, started to apologize, dropping his gaze and wringing his hands. “I knew it was stupid as soon as I—”

“No.” Ed’s voice cracked, as if his throat had frozen over and he had to break through the ice. “Don’t apologize.” He moved forward, crowding Stede against the wall, bracing his arms on either side of the man’s head so there was only the two of them and nothing else. “Say it again.”

Stede blinked a few times before he smiled and whispered, “You’re beautiful.”

Of all the things that had been said to him, good and bad and otherwise, nothing made him feel so intensely as Stede whispering that he was beautiful.

All his life, he had always craved beautiful things.

He had never, not once, thought he could be one.

Then Stede’s fingertips touched his cheeks, the skin still sensitive to touch after being buried for so long. “It takes my breath away to look at you,” he continued, his voice still just barely audible. “You were handsome before, of course. But that wasn’t you, was it? That was Blackbeard. This is… you.” He leaned in to brush their lips together in a ghost of a kiss. “I see you, Edward, and you’re beautiful.”

Ed followed his lips, forcing them back together in a proper kiss, pressing him into the wall to hold him up when he melted, as he usually did.

The sensation was so different now. He could feel all of Stede’s skin against his own, could feel the entirety of his lips, could feel everything. He did like the way his beard would leave little red marks on Stede’s sensitive, pale skin, but it was a fine trade to get to hear that velvety voice call him beautiful.

“Stede.” He pulled away to gaze into the man’s eyes, delighting in how plainly he could see the same desire he felt reflected in them. “Would you—”

“Whatever it is, yes,” Stede interrupted with a breathless laugh. “Oh, yes, please.”

Ed wasn’t sure if it was selfish to enjoy this facet of Stede, the open willingness, the full and total and unspoken consent. He also wasn’t sure if it was wrong to idly wonder where the line was drawn, what the limit was.

But he wasn’t interested in finding that out, at least not right then. They could have a discussion later.

For now, he was going to try something.

He grabbed Stede around the middle and hoisted him up, grinning at the surprised squeak it garnered from the man.

“Wrap yer legs around me,” he instructed, and when they were snug against his hips, he slid his hands down to hold Stede up by the curve of his thighs.

“This is different.” Stede’s eyes gazed directly into his own, now at the same level. “Is this how it feels to be tall?”

Ed chuckled, leaning in to kiss his neck. “Mm, I don’t think so. Bein’ tall isn’t normally so erotic.”

Stede’s head fell back to thunk against the wall. “N-No?”

“Nope.” Ed nibbled on the soft skin where his neck met his shoulder, then bit down, just enough to draw a wonderful moan out of him.

“Do you think—” Stede swallowed. “Like this, you could—”

Ed grinned, his lips curling against Stede’s skin. “That’s what I was hopin’ t’find out.”

He could feel the excited shiver that ran through Stede, their bodies so close that it felt like it was his own reaction.

But then reality set in. It was difficult to maneuver their pants out of the way, a struggle to keep balance as they tried, and ultimately his back and knees threatened to give out before they could get anywhere close to needing lubricant. Which was its own challenge, they just hadn’t gotten there yet.

Panting and a little sweaty from next to no action, they looked at one another and, with a wordless nod, came to an agreement.

Ed held onto Stede’s thighs and staggered across the room to drop him on the bed, falling down onto him, and they collapsed into a pile of wheezing laughter.

“Why’s it so fuckin’ hard,” Ed grumbled, pushing his hair out of his own face. “I just wanted t’fuck you against the wall.”

“Maybe another time, love.” Stede gave one last sighing laugh and shifted to look up at him. “That does bring me to… a topic I’d like to discuss.”

Ed arched his brow.

Stede sighed. He reached up and held Ed’s face in his hands, stroked his thumb over his cheeks. “I want you to take me.”

Ed blinked, furrowed his brow, tilted his head to the side. “Y’say that like I haven’t already.”

“You have, technically, yes, but—” The skin along his chest and neck flushed red. “I mean… take me. You seem to prefer me on top, which—which is fun, of course, but—”

“Oh.” Ed frowned, his eyes darting downward to look at where their groins were pressed together. “Well. ‘Bout that. I was told it might hurt t’take ye from above, since…”

Stede made a giggling sound and slipped one hand down to pat Ed's lower stomach. “Yes, love, you’re very big, I’m aware.”

Ed couldn’t be amused when he was filled with concern. “Years back, I tried it. Lettin’ a man take me. It fuckin’ hurt, Stede. ‘M’scared t’hurt you.”

“Well, isn’t that what all the prep and oil is for?” Stede gave the cheekiest little grin.

Ed searched his face, tried to find any reservation there, but found none. He dropped his head down to rest his forehead against Stede’s and smiled. “All right, but I’m not stickin’ it in ‘til yer beggin’, and still not ‘til after that.”

“Is that a promise or a threat?” Stede said in a quiet voice and winked.

Fucking winked.

That was Ed’s thing. He winked at Stede, and Stede was the one to blush. It wasn’t supposed to be the other way around.

But Stede had winked, and his heart skipped a beat.

“Both,” he finally replied before sliding down the bed and pressing his lips to the curve of Stede’s hip bone.

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[kharti]

[ In Over His Head #69 ]

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“Are you certain about this?”

“Absolutely. Just… do it.”

Stede’s hand trembled, and Ed reached up to grab his wrist.

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“Are you certain about this?”

“Absolutely. Just… do it.”

Stede’s hand trembled, and Ed reached up to grab his wrist.

“Lamb, if y’don’t have a steady hand, yer gonna slit my throat.”

Stede breathed in and out a few times, and Ed watched the way his throat bobbed when he swallowed. He fought the temptation that rose up at first, then thought better of it and leaned in to kiss the center of his adam’s apple.

That did the trick, it seemed. A smile ticked up the corners of Stede’s mouth and he returned the kiss to Ed’s forehead.

“I just. This feels like blasphemy.” He sighed and glanced at the razor in his hand. “Like I’m killing a part of you.”

Ed shrugged. “You are th’one who killed Blackbeard, in a way.”

Stede scrunched up his nose and lowered the razor. “And you don’t resent me for that? Won’t resent me?”

Though he wanted to answer right away, he gave the question serious thought and mused aloud.

“Well, I’d been ready to die for a while now. Bored to shit with life. But t’be honest, I don’t know if Blackbeard will ever actually be gone. Been in me too long.”

With a soft sigh, Stede dropped his gaze. “May I be honest with you?”

Ed’s brow arched. “I’d hope so by now.”

That made Stede chuckle, just a little, before his expression fell somber. “I’m a bit afraid of Blackbeard. It… I don’t mind the version who is rough and tough and can whip a coconut in half from across the deck. But then there is the one who… cut the fingers off a man and made him carry them.”

“Mm.” Ed leaned back, tilting his head to look up at the ceiling. “I don’t know what t’say. It’s who I’ve had to be to survive. You don’t know what the piracy life is like, not really.”

He felt the wince, knew Stede was hurt by the words, but they were being honest, so. A necessary evil.

He returned his gaze to Stede’s face and said, “I can’t promise I wouldn’t carve a man open if I had to. Can y’live with that?”

Stede worried his lower lip between his teeth. His eyes darted around before meeting Ed’s again. “Would I have to watch?”

“I s’ppose not, if y’turned away fast enough.” He chuckled. “Thank the seven seas I found ye when I did. A different pirate would’ve eaten you alive, an’ not in th’fun way I do.”

That brought a rosy hue to Stede’s cheeks. With the mood settled back down again, Ed angled his chin up and waited.

Stede took a steadying breath and raised the blade, his hand not visibly trembling this time as he made the first stroke of removing the legendary beard.

For a while, there was only the sound of the razor scraping against his skin, the hairs giving way to the sharp edge. The gentle breathing, passing the air back and forth between them.

Ed watched the way Stede lost himself to focusing on his very careful movements. The determination in his eyes, the slight parting of his lips, the little flash of tongue as it darted out to wet his lips.

He wanted to kiss him, but any movement was a serious risk right at that moment, so he just gazed and stored the growing fondness in his chest to use in a kiss later.

For now, he allowed the quiet reverence in every stroke of Stede’s hand to be Blackbeard’s eulogy, allowed the pirate to die with intimacy and peace, things he never had in life.

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[kharti]

[ In Over His Head #68 ]

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Be quiet.

Go away.

Just shut up.

Stede’s whole body trembled as he curled up into a tight little ball in the empty bath tub, the red silk robe draped over it like the top to a tent, his face buried against his folded arms.

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Be quiet.

Go away.

Just shut up.

Stede’s whole body trembled as he curled up into a tight little ball in the empty bath tub, the red silk robe draped over it like the top to a tent, his face buried against his folded arms.

His breathing sounded so loud in the small confine of the tub, and he had to clench his eyes shut so he wouldn’t feel so claustrophobic. He couldn’t get his breaths any quieter, so he tried to stop breathing for a while.

How could everything have gone so wrong so quickly? Or had it been wrong all along, and he had just been too daft to see it?

Now a man was likely dead, because he was an idiot. Because he thought there were other people like him who wanted to be free of expectations and norms, and that they’d found one by happenstance.

And now Ed was forced back into the role of Blackbeard, because Stede was too weak.

Weak. Idiot. Imbecile. Useless.

He felt the presence of the specters that lived in his head, each one of them pressing their faces against the silk to get a good look at the failure they’d all known him to be.

Then a hand grasped the silk and pulled it back, and his head jerked to look up into the Ed’s face.

“We need t’talk,” Ed said, and Stede heard so many other words behind them.

He dropped his head down onto his folded arms and mumbled, “Is he… dead?”

“Not quite, no.” Ed dropped down to sit beside the tub and sighed. “Sent ‘m back t’his ship with his fingers in his bleedin’ hands. They sailed off.”

Stede shuddered as he envisioned it all too vividly. Particularly the blood. He imagined the mess left behind from cutting fingers, and unwillingly wondered how much it was like cutting the head off a goose.

“Thank you for taking care of it,” he said, trying to push the rising feelings down, trying to shove them back into the corner where they were supposed to sit and be quiet. “What do you want to talk about?”

Ed gave a hollow chuckle. “Everythin’, I s’ppose. Piracy. Life. Us.”

Ah, yes. The ‘us’ talk. He had avoided it with his wife for years, had made excuses or pretended to be asleep or whatever it took to not have to have the talk.

It was time to have an honest conversation, even if it hurt.

He closed his eyes and held his knees tighter to his chest. “All right.”

Fingertips brushed his hair behind his ear, but he kept his eyes shut.

“Listen, Stede. I’ve been doin’ this a long time. I fuckin’ hate that I’m good at it, but I am.” The hand landed on his shoulder and squeezed. “If this is really what y’want, t’be a pirate, I’ll stand by you. I’ll cut off all the fingers and toes y’ask me to, and all the ones y’don’t.”

Then, in a quiet voice, Ed continued, “But I don’t think I can be both. It hurts too much t’try to live both lives. Being Ed just… makes me want t’never be Blackbeard again.”

Stede lifted and turned his head to look at him, and first saw the splatter of blood across Ed’s face and neck. And then he managed to get his blurred vision to focus on the tears that were in Ed’s eyes. He started to unwind himself from the tight ball he’d curled into and shuffled back to make some room.

“Would you care to join me?”

Like he had once before, which felt so long ago now, Ed dropped himself into the tub between Stede’s legs, boots and all. It was like their usual bathing arrangement, but Ed was the one against Stede’s chest, and Stede was the one tucking Ed’s head under his chin.

They sat in silence for a while, Stede just holding Ed to him and trying to find the words to express himself. Trying to figure himself out in that moment, trying to understand his own feelings so he could explain them.

It was difficult. There was so much noise in his head, so many other voices that he’d been listening to for so long that he wasn’t sure where his own was anymore.

“My whole life,” Stede finally began, quietly, slowly, “has felt like an endless series of trauma responses. I have never been good enough, smart enough, charming enough… I’ve never been enough.”

Ed took a breath in, but Stede squeezed him gently in a silent plea, and the man said nothing.

“My father wanted a strong man to take his place as head of the family. Everything was a test, and I always failed, and he was never remiss to let me know in all the ways I disappointed him. I… hesitate to call him abusive, because he never laid a hand on me, but I suppose you’ll tell me the damage was still done nonetheless.”

He felt Ed nod, and he sighed.

“I thought a life as a pirate would give me control. As a pirate captain, I would have the power I have never had. And I wanted to use that power to make this ship a small haven in this world, a place where there are no tests and only acceptance. I neglected, as I always do, to consider… that I was only going to fail, again.”

Ed shifted in his arms, leaning to the side so he could look up at him. “Y’didn’t fail, exactly. The ship is exactly what y’wanted it t’be. It’s… everythin’ else, outside the ship, that’s the problem.”

“I suppose.” Stede tilted to rest his forehead against the side of Ed’s head. “I’m sorry.”

After another quiet moment, Ed spoke up again. “You mentioned t’me once, ‘bout retirement. Have y’considered an early retirement from piracy?”

Stede laughed under his breath. “That would be quite the early retirement.”

“Are there rules for how long y’ve got t’do somethin’ before y’can retire?”

“Well, I suppose not.” Stede breathed in, held it, and let it out, the tension going with it. “What would we do? We both love the sea, and I rather enjoy our life as it is, the problems with the outside world notwithstanding. I can’t imagine… settling down, living on land, watching the sun set over the horizon from the shore rather than from our ship.”

Silence settled over them again, until Ed gasped so loud it sounded painful. “Fuck! Stede!”

Then there was the pain as an elbow crashed into Stede’s stomach from Ed suddenly squirming and flopping about to turn around and face him, all the while chanting his name like an over-excited child.

Stede could only look up into the glimmering eyes, the wide grin, the wild expression that threatened to infect him with the same energy.

“I’ve got it.” Ed’s grin widened. “Bounty hunters. Let’s fuck shit up as bounty hunters. Who better t’take pirates down than ex-pirates?”

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[kharti]

[ In Over His Head #89 ]

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Ed knew he should react, especially with the nervous energy radiating from Stede as the silence lingered.

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Ed knew he should react, especially with the nervous energy radiating from Stede as the silence lingered.

But he was unable to speak. Barely able to breathe. Struggling to think.

Stede wanted forever with him. That was the only thought in his head: forever.

Every morning and goodnight. Every kiss. Every cup of tea. Every flower.

Every misunderstanding, argument, disagreement.

Every moment, good and bad, all of them.

Forever.

That was what he meant, right? Ed slowly angled his head to look down at the fearful eyes gazing at him. He wouldn’t have that expression otherwise. No, they were on the same page. They had to be.

But Ed wasn’t ready to dive headfirst into assumptions when the rest of his life and the whole of his heart were on the line.

And he was done with the caution and uncertainty and half-speaking, half-staring. So he sat up, his hands under Stede’s arms to hoist the man upright and stared directly into his eyes.

“Stede.” He sighed, his hands moving to the man’s shoulders and squeezing them. “’M’not smart. Not in the way you are. Y’know words better than I ever could.” His gaze lowered, unable to maintain eye contact. “I can read the words on a page, but I can’t always understand what they really mean. Symbolism an’ all that shit.”

“Edward?” Stede asked in a soft voice.

Ed shook his head. “Just… say what y’want. Plain an’ simple. Don’t confuse me with yer flowery tongue, much as I love listenin’ to it any other time.”

He looked up to watch Stede’s expression as it opened up, blossomed with surprise and the faintest smile, a tiny bit of hope.

Stede pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, seeming to try to smother that smile before it could grow too much too soon.

Hells, they were both so afraid. Was this what love was supposed to be like? He had no fuckin’ clue.

“I love you,” Stede said, and folded his hands in his lap. “Plain and simple, I love you. And I want to love you forever, until the day I die.”

Ed felt his chest tighten as he forced a joke to be said with sincerity. “Careful. That sounds like a proposal.”

Stede’s eyes widened briefly, then crinkled with the smile he couldn’t hold back this time. “Would you say yes if it was?”

A laugh caught in his throat, and unexpectedly, tears pricked his eyes. “I don’t know much, but I know that’s not how proposals work. Y’don’t get to know the answer without askin’ the hard question.”

“Right, of course.” Stede rubbed his thumb over the back of his hand and shifted positions to sit on his knees, back straightened. “Sorry. I actually haven’t done this before.”

“Me neither,” Ed whispered. His heart was in his ears, but he tried to focus on Stede’s voice over the thudding sound.

Stede huffed a breathless laugh, then unclasped his hands and instead clasped them around one of Ed’s. “Edward Teach. The love I have for you, that you’ve inspired in me…” He shook his head without breaking eye contact. “I don’t have the words for its intensity or depth. But I might, some day, some year, and I want nothing more than to spend the rest of my life trying to find those words. Together. With you.”

Once again, Ed found himself silent and desperately wishing otherwise.

It would almost have been easier if Stede had said anything else. That this was a wonderful time, and he’d had fun, but he was sorry for leading him on.

But the truth stared at him, smiling and waiting for a response, and he finally leaned in to press their foreheads together.

“Yes,” he mumbled. “I want nothin’ else.”

“Yeah?” Stede’s smile brightened, unrestrained. “So… yes? That’s a yes?”

“I said yes, di’n’t I?” Ed chuckled. “Yes, Stede Bonnet. My everythin’ is yours. Has been for a while now.”

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[kharti]

[ In Over His Head #78 ]

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“… And that’s when Vampire Ed felt, for the first time, something in his chest. It was his cold heart starting to beat for the first time in centuries,” Lucius finished with a small sigh. “The end.”

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“… And that’s when Vampire Ed felt, for the first time, something in his chest. It was his cold heart starting to beat for the first time in centuries,” Lucius finished with a small sigh. “The end.”

Frenchie grinned as he waited for a response.

Stede steepled his fingers, pursing his lips in thought. “Permit me one question?”

Frenchie’s smile fell a bit. “Yeah?”

“Have you considered learning how to write so you can capture every wonderful thought that crosses your mind?” He beamed. “I’m sure Lucius wouldn’t mind teaching you!”

Lucius looked up from his book with a frown. “Admittedly, it might be easier than having to transcribe all of his wild ideas.” He waved a hand. “But I’m not a teacher.”

“Yeah, plus.” Frenchie clasped and unclasped his hands, his eyes flicked to one side. “Lucius helps. With ideas. When I get stuck.”

Stede’s brow shot up. “Is that so?” He looked over at Lucius, grinning when he saw the light flush on the man’s cheeks. “That’s wonderful! I almost thought he was an unwilling participant in these stories of yours.”

Lucius sputtered as he snapped the book shut. “If I’m going to put pen to paper, I might as well make sure it’s good.”

Frenchie tried and failed to suppress a laugh. “It was your idea to make Vampire Hunter Stede’s blood an aphrodisiac to Vampire Ed!”

“Because it’s hot to drive someone totally out of their mind,” Lucius muttered, glaring.

With a hand over his mouth to hide his smile, Stede cut in, “Have you considered letting Vampire Hunter Stede know his blood has that effect? He strikes me as the type who would enjoy feigning ignorance when he cuts his finger and Vampire Ed goes wild.”

Frenchie and Lucius looked at him, then at each other. Silently, slowly, as though not making a sound would disguise his movement, Lucius opened his book and scribbled down a note.

“In fact,” Stede continued, looking up at the ceiling, “it could make a particularly steamy moment when they inevitably find themselves in intimate quarters, on the very precipice of crossing the veritable threshold, and Stede bites his lip before kissing him.”

“Fuck yes,” Lucius said under his breath, the sound of his quill scratching against the paper louder than his words.

Frenchie scooted forward, nearly scooting right off the edge of his seat. “Yes, and! And. He figures it out almost right away. Since he’s a vampire hunter, he knows how to read vampires.”

“Admittedly not a very good one,” Stede said with a feigned sigh. “But I suppose it’s better that way. If he was too good, the story might not have happened at all.”

The door opened and Ed walked in, stopping when he saw the three of them huddled together. “Am I interrupting somethin’?”

“Ed!” Stede jumped up and hurried over to him with a delighted smile. “How would you react if you were a vampire and woke up in your coffin to discover someone had crawled in there to sleep next to you?”

Ed blinked, slowly, once. His eyes darted around the cabin before returning to Stede and he replied, “Confused.”

“Boring,” Lucius called over his shoulder. “Give us more than that.”

“Wait.” Frenchie pressed his fingertips to his temples. “Do vampires even get erections? Is that a thing? Can they do that?”

Stede hummed, turning to pace the room as he mused aloud, “Well, perhaps if he had recently fed, his body would have enough vigor?”

Ed grunted and leaned against the doorframe with his arms crossed. “Could someone fill me in on what th’fuck is goin’ on?”

“It’s erotic fiction about you and Stede, sweetheart. Catch up.” Lucius sighed loudly as he flipped back several pages and gestured for Ed to take a seat as he began, “It all started with a misplaced dagger. Vampire Hunter Stede had forgotten to tuck the blade into the sheath at his hip before he set out, and now he was face-to-face with a dark, brooding vampire and no weapon to defend himself…”

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[kharti]

[ In Over His Head #59 ]

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Ed? Are you awake?

Mmh.

Do you mind if I read another story, aloud? I’d like to share this one with you.

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Ed? Are you awake?

Mmh.

Do you mind if I read another story, aloud? I’d like to share this one with you.

Sure. ‘M’listening.

Legend has it that on an island far away from any known continent explored by man, there lives a prince, held hostage by a terrible beast of the sea. The island is shrouded in darkness even on the brightest of days, and any who try to rescue the prince meet an early death in a watery grave.

Cocksure princes set out only to never return. Knights with savior complexes took up their swords and were felled just as easily. One kingdom even sent an entire army, and not a single soldier came home.

All hope seemed lost for the captive prince, and many began to wonder if he was even still alive with such a monster as a captor.

It was some years later when the sea creature saw a small ship emerge from the clouds, a single lantern hanging from its bow, a weak beacon of light against the shadows that engulfed the island.

Eyes of burning fire moved to meet the intruder, ready to strike—and then the beast paused when it saw not a warrior, but a simple, ordinary man.

“Turn back now,” it warned, smoke curling from its maw, “and you just might live to see another day.”

The man smiled and lifted his oars out of the water to slow the boat’s movement. “I’m afraid I can’t. I’m here to rescue the prince of this island.”

It moved through the water closer toward him, close enough that he could see the dark eyes looking at him from behind the fire.

“Then you wish to die.”

“Quite the contrary,” the man replied with a laugh. “I wish to live, and I wish the same for the prince. Perhaps even together, if he’d like.”

The eyes narrowed and withdrew, the shadows following with it. “If he’d like? If you bested me and rescued him, he would be yours.”

“If he’d like,” the man simply repeated.

It rumbled as it circled the boat, a sort of thoughtful sound, before it retreated back to the island. Its voice echoed in the empty space behind it, “Return tomorrow with a gift for the prince, and if he likes it, I won’t kill you just yet.”

The man slipped the oars into the water and started the long trek back to the shore that was well beyond the horizon.

The next day, the beast watched as the boat approached again, its lantern swaying as the waves pushed and pulled.

Fire and shadows moved through the air until the eyes could be seen, and they hovered just near the side of the boat. “If you’ve chosen poorly, you will die here.”

“I understand.” He reached down into a bag that rested at his feet and pulled out a large tome that surely had over a thousand pages between the heavy covers. “Here is my gift.”

Something slithered over the side of the boat and wrapped around the tome, pulling it into the darkness. “A book? For a prince?”

“For a lonely man,” he corrected. “If I cannot rescue him, then perhaps he can at least find company in the stories within.”

The beast was quiet as it considered the offering. Once again, it started to withdraw, leaving just the echo of its rumbling voice.

“Return again tomorrow with something fit for a prince.”

But it didn’t give the book back, instead keeping it, accepting it. So the man smiled and rowed away.

When he came back the next day, the beast seemed in a hurry to meet him, as if in eagerness.

“What have you brought?”

Just like the day before, the man pulled out a book from his bag and held it up. This one was smaller, perhaps only a couple hundred pages at the most, and was adorned with a gilded cover.

“Another book?” The shadows thickened, swirled with the smoke of the growing fire. “Are you so eager to die that you would make a joke at your own expense?”

But the man laughed and shook his head. “Whether he is a prince or a sea monster, he is lonely just the same. Fine things like gold and silk will do nothing for a lonely heart.”

The boat was engulfed in darkness as something surged forward and landed on the boat right in front of him, but still completely obscured. The flames were hot against his skin as its eyes bore into his own.

“And what would you know of loneliness?’” it hissed.

With a smile, he reached out, and when his fingertips touched skin, the smoke cleared and revealed an ordinary man standing there, his skin painted black around his eyes.

“I know the pain of being seen as nothing more than a title or a station,” he replied. “I know the desire to be seen as who we are, not what we are.”

The prince faltered, and the fire was gone. “You see me,” he whispered.

“I see you.”

What became of the prince and the man has been lost to time, but there are sailors who tell tales of an island bathed in sunlight, and two figures standing together upon its shores.

… Ed? Did you fall asleep?

…

… Good night, Edward…

…

… It’s dedicated to you. My story. Because… I see you. I hope you know that…

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[kharti]

[ In Over His Head #93 ]

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Stede and Doug sat on some crates below deck, facing one another while the lantern flickered shadows across their faces.

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Stede and Doug sat on some crates below deck, facing one another while the lantern flickered shadows across their faces.

“So,” Stede started.

“So,” Doug repeated.

They went quiet again, staring, unblinking. And then Doug broke first, sputtering a laugh.

“I just can’t believe it,” Doug said. “We really thought you were dead.” He rubbed the back of his neck, eyes flicking to the side. “If either of us knew you were alive, we’d have never—”

Stede quickly waved his hands. “Oh, please, perish the concern. I am just as guilty of an extramarital affair, really.”

Doug frowned; not at him or his words, but at the ground. “I think we both know that men can freely have affairs on their wives, but…”

That made Stede frown, too. “Yes, society is quite unfair, in that and many ways.” He reached out to put his hand on Doug’s knee. “Her husband was not well-regarded, so I hope you are not facing too much discrimination?”

Doug hesitated. His eyes lowered, lifted, moved to one side, the other.

Stede laughed. “Whatever it is, it’s quite all right.”

“It’s just.” Doug shifted uncomfortably. “People talk. They’ve said some unkind things toward you, about you.”

“Oh, they did that when I was still alive.” Stede sighed. He pulled one leg up onto the crate to hug his knee to his chest, letting his own gaze fall. “I’m glad she has you. You seem a nice fellow.”

Doug cleared his throat. “I don’t feel so nice, right now.”

Stede didn’t respond at first. He let the quiet moment settle while he searched for his words.

“I’ve carried her with me all this time,” he finally said, quietly. “In my head. Like a ghost. Haunting me with all the ways I failed her. Reminding me of why I don’t deserve the happiness I found.”

Doug gave a thoughtful, serious hum. He moved from his crate to sit next to Stede and put an arm around his shoulders. “I don’t know if this helps or hurts, but Mary has a saying that she adopted when she was involved in the widow’s support group.” His hand on Stede’s arm squeezed. “If not now, when?”

Stede blinked. “If not now, when,” he repeated in a mumble.

“If we aren’t happy or living our best life now, when will we?” Doug offered a lopsided grin. “What if now is the only chance we’ve got, and waiting means we lose it all?”

“She’s remarkable, isn’t she,” Stede said with a fond smile. “I never spoke with her long enough to learn that.”

Doug chuckled, softly. “I want to say something, but I mean it with no offense.”

“Please, by all means.”

Doug ducked his head, a shy grin overtaking his lips. “I’m real glad you left and found your happiness elsewhere, because I can’t imagine mine without her.”

Stede reached up to place his hand over Doug’s to give it a gentle squeeze. “I’m glad the one thing I did right by her was what led her to you.”

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[kharti]

[ In Over His Head #99 ]

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“Blackie!” Jack shouted from the top of the ladder, leaning over the railing and grinning wide. “Come to turn me in, you turncoat twat?”

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“Blackie!” Jack shouted from the top of the ladder, leaning over the railing and grinning wide. “Come to turn me in, you turncoat twat?”

Ed hesitated, and the glance down at Stede still in the dinghy didn’t go unnoticed.

“What, you got to ask your master for permission to speak?” Jack laughed and slapped a hand to the rail. “He got you that dick-whipped?”

It was just how they talked to each other, no different now than it had been years ago. But Ed felt Stede’s ire like a palpable force, and it made him more self-conscious than ever before.

He felt uncomfortable with someone he used to consider the closest thing he’d ever have to a friend.

He just kept his mouth shut until they were both up on deck, then shifted to brush his fingers against the back of Stede’s hand. “C’mon, man,” he said in a careful tone. “I’m just here for Iz.”

Jack’s eyes darted to flick between their faces and the touch of their hands, then snorted and leaned back. “And what’s he here for, then?”

Stede huffed and took a step forward, tilting his head up in defiance. “I’m here to make sure you don’t interfere with their conversation.”

“Oh yeah?” Jack leered at him. “And what’re you going to do?”

That was when Stede looked at Ed with an unspoken question, his eyes wide with his plea.

Ed couldn’t help the laugh that escaped him. “All out,” he said as he took a step back and gestured at Jack with both hands. “Go fuckin’ crazy.”

Jack’s demeanor shifted, just a bit. “Do what n—”

In spite of the nice clothes he wore, or perhaps in direct and purposeful defiance of his soft, frilly appearance, Stede lunged. He got his shoulder in Jack’s gut and lifted, getting the man just off his feet enough to shove him over.

Jack let out a sharp wheeze, and his hands scrabbled for a hold on something before he went down. “The fuck!” He hurried back up onto his feet and adopted a more fighting stance. “Blackie, your boy's gone insane!”

“Nah, mate. He’s always been insane.” Ed chuckled as Stede took a hit to the arm and retaliated with a sweep of his leg. “’S’why I love’m.”

“Love,” a voice rasped, sounding more tired than Ed had ever heard it before. “Is it really love?”

Ed turned to see Izzy standing a guarded, safe distance away with his arms crossed and his face twisted in a scowl.

“Hey, Iz,” Ed said, stepping closer, but stopping when it looked like the man might spit venom at him. “I wanted t’talk.”

Izzy’s mouth twitched. “I can’t think of anything we need to talk about.”

Ed winced, and his chest briefly went tight. “Iz…”

“Israel.” He practically growled his own name. “Or Mr. Hands.”

“Izzy,” Ed sighed. “Can we talk? Just you an’ me?”

Izzy stared at him with hard, unblinking eyes before he hissed, a frustrated push of air between clenched teeth, and jerked his head toward a door. “My quarters are through there.”

Ed spared a glance to see Stede and Jack on the ground without a clear winner or loser just yet. Jack was a bastard, sure, but he wasn’t going to hurt Stede too much.

Right?

He frowned as he considered intervening, but then Stede got a solid hit of his elbow to Jack’s side.

Well, he had trained him, after all. And Stede did enjoy a good scuffle.

“He’ll be fockin’ fine,” Izzy growled. “Jack can’t piss without wearing himself out.”

Ed looked back at him, then nodded and went inside Izzy's quarters. “Not good of a first mate to talk about his captain that way.”

Behind him, he heard the door close, and he turned to see Izzy standing there, gloved hand resting on the doorknob, as if second guessing himself.

“He’s not my captain,” Izzy said, his eyes momentarily soft. “He’s a man I serve. But he’s not my captain.”

Ed sighed and dropped down into the nearest chair. “Iz…”

“No. Don’t focking ‘Iz’ me.” Izzy’s hand tightened around the metal and his jaw visibly twitched as he clenched it. “You don’t get to talk to me like anything we had matters to you.”

“Of course it did.” Ed pressed his fingers to his temple. “You know it did.”

“Then—why?” Izzy stalked forward and leaned over him, so much in his face, anger and hurt and a bit of despair. “Why Stede focking Bonnet? What does he give you that I didn’t?”

Ed reached out and, gently, touched his hand to the small expanse of skin on Izzy’s wrist not covered up by glove or sleeve. “It’s not the same, what he an’ I have, what you an’ I had.”

Izzy’s chest shuddered as he sucked in a breath and stepped just out of reach. “You never gave me the chance.”

“You wanted Blackbeard. Not me.”

“You are Blackbeard!” Izzy glared down at him with a distinct hatred in his eyes as he added, “Or you were before Stede fuckin’ Bonnet came along!”

Ed just remained seated, steepling his fingers and trying to keep his own voice calm. Blackbeard would have pinned Izzy to the wall with a knife to his neck or, hells, cut off a finger or a toe.

No one talked to Blackbeard that way.

But there wasn’t an ocean of anger and fear within him, not anymore. He just felt—regret.

“I stopped bein’ Blackbeard a long time ago,” he said, letting his gaze fall to the floor. “You knew it, too. Don’t act like y’didn’t notice. The more I withdrew, th’more you stepped in.”

“I was just doing my duty.” Izzy turned away to pace the distance from Ed to the door and back. “You would have come out of it! I know you, I know what you’re like. You get lost, sometimes, but you always came back.”

“Nah, mate.” Ed smiled down at the boots that came into view. “Not this time. I’m lost fer good.”

Silence fell on them for a long, tense moment. Ed was willing to wait however long it took for Izzy to decide what to say next.

“Is it really love?” Izzy asked, quietly, a bit fearfully.

Ed nodded without lifting his gaze any higher. “’Fraid so. Gonna marry him.”

Finally, Izzy dropped down into the chair beside his, collapsing with such force that it seemed like all the will had left him. Ed glanced over to see him staring at nothing at all, eyes completely unfocused, a little glassy.

“What is it like?” Izzy’s voice was tight and cracked. “Being in love?”

“What is it like,” Ed repeated thoughtfully. He sighed and straightened up, letting his head fall back to gaze at the ceiling. “A bit like drowning, I s’ppose. An’ then a hand grabs yours. Y’can suddenly breathe again, like y’ve never had air in yer lungs before.”

Izzy grunted. “Sounds like a fockin’ nightmare.”

“It’s terrifyin’ at first, yeah.” Ed smiled. “But once y’can breathe, really breathe, y’never want t’stop.”

There was a sound—a tiny, sharp little gasp that was caught just as it turned into the softest sob. He didn’t look over, didn’t take that small dignity away. But he did reach over and let his fingers rest on Izzy’s forearm.

After a couple false starts, Izzy said in a small, defeated voice, “I drowned for you. For years.”

“But y’never got that first breath, did ye.”

“No,” Izzy admitted, and the short word said a hundred others.

“’M’sorry, if it counts fer anythin’.” Ed withdrew his hand and leaned back into his seat. “I didn’t want anyone t’love Blackbeard. He’s not fit fer love. He would’ve just hurt you, over an’ over.”

That earned a half-broken laugh. “That’s all I wanted.”

“I know.” Ed sighed and closed his eyes. “But it’s not what y’deserve.”

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[kharti]

[ In Over His Head #75 ]

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“Did ye get any clues?” Ed asked quietly, glancing around to ensure they were alone.

Lucius sighed as he reached into his shirt to retrieve a folded sheet of paper. “You know, I was originally just going to tell you to figure it out on your own.” He turned the paper over, then smiled.

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“Did ye get any clues?” Ed asked quietly, glancing around to ensure they were alone.

Lucius sighed as he reached into his shirt to retrieve a folded sheet of paper. “You know, I was originally just going to tell you to figure it out on your own.” He turned the paper over, then smiled.

Ed took the paper, unfolded it, and sighed when the only words on it were ‘Good luck’ in Lucius’s curviest handwriting.

“And that’s still my plan. His fantasy is so specific that it would just be wrong to hand it to you,” Lucius said with a light tut, tut. “I thought, maybe if it was something simple, sure, what’s the harm.”

His face softened, and Ed saw the fondness in the man’s eyes. “He was pretty eager to talk about it, anyway, so I’m sure you’ll have no trouble getting it out of him.”

Ed sighed and leaned against the wall, rubbing a hand over his face. “But I wanted t’surprise him. That was the point of askin’ ye t’find out.”

Lucius gave a dramatic sigh. “I know, and that’s so sweet of you, but it would probably freak him out if you just suddenly became a gardener and seduced him.”

Ed stared, blinking once, twice. “A what?”

With a mischievous little grin, Lucius covered his mouth. “I’ve already said too much.”

While Ed tried to replay the words, tried to process them, Lucius snuck out of the room. He just stood there and thought over the implications.

Did Stede have a fetish for getting dirty—literally? Wanted to have his corn shucked? Ed paused, trying to think of over vegetables and verbs.

Fuck. Okay, fine, he’d just ask.

He rubbed a hand over his face as he pushed off the wall and made his way to the captain’s quarters, where Stede was nursing a small hangover with his fingertips against his temples.

Stede looked up and tried to smile. “Hello, darling. You wouldn’t happen to have a secret pirate’s concoction to cure headaches, do you?”

“Sure do. It’s called a distraction.” Ed dropped down onto the couch beside him, took a breath in, and said as he let it out, “D’you remember the whole… Dread Pirate Stede… fantasy?”

“Oh, yes, but—” Stede winced. “I don’t think I’m quite up for that right now.”

“Yeah, I know.” Ed put his hands in his lap, fidgeting with them, resting them on his thighs and then his knees and then settling for just crossing his arms over his chest. “I want you t’tell me what your fantasy is.”

Stede’s eyes widened a bit, and his cheeks turned a rosy red color. “My fantasy?” His gaze averted to the side and he mumbled, “It’s not very interesting.”

“It’s interestin’ t’me,” Ed said, softly, sincerely.

Stede smiled at that and visibly relaxed. “Well… all right.” He shifted on the couch, shuffling over and resting his forehead on Ed’s shoulder. “But it’s just a fantasy. It’s not something you have to make come true.”

“I’ll be the judge of that.”

Stede gave a quiet laugh and turned his head so his nose brushed against Ed’s neck. “Sometimes, I would sit in the estate and look out the window. There was a gardener who worked for us in the summers, tending to the landscaping. And I would fantasize endlessly about him taking notice of me.”

Ed put an arm around him, pulled him closer and rested his cheek on Stede’s head. “An’ how would he do that?”

His voice dropped into an embarrassed whisper. “Oh, I imagined so many ways. I would sometimes find excuses to wander into the shed where the tools were housed in the hopes he might walk in, shut the door, and… well, anything. Whatever he wanted. I wasn’t particularly picky on the details after that.”

It was going to take one hell of a fuckery to put all the very specific pieces in place, but Ed already had three different ideas of how to execute this plan.

“I think I can arrange somethin’,” Ed finally said, grinning when Stede bolted upright and looked at him with genuine surprise and excitement.

“Truly?” Stede’s smile quivered as he tried to keep it from breaking into a grin, but it got away from him. “You mean it?”

“Might take a bit t’get it just right, but I’ve tackled harder challenges.”

And he was especially motivated now after seeing the way Stede couldn’t contain his feelings, all of them bubbling out in his grin, in the glimmer of his eyes.

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[kharti]

[ In Over His Head #77 ]

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Ed wasn’t feeling well. That was ordinarily not something to even note, much less make any sort of noise about.

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Ed wasn’t feeling well. That was ordinarily not something to even note, much less make any sort of noise about.

But it was the first time he felt ill while he was with Stede, and he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t curious how it felt to be taken care of. To, for just one day, let all his guard down and put his well-being in the hands of another. To be pampered, just a little bit.

“Don’t think I can help much today,” he said, sounding as uncertain as he felt.

He wasn’t sure what the protocol was for announcing oneself as sick. Did he just declare it? No, whenever Stede wasn’t feeling well, Ed had to pry the confession out of him.

So he crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, his lips shut tight.

Stede looked at him with momentary surprise. “Oh? Well, that’s quite all right.” He smiled. “You can’t be expected to know everything about every pirate we try to hunt down.”

Ed tried not to frown. “Findin’ Canoot’s easy. He strikes poorly defended coastal towns an’ gets drunk off his own success.”

“Yes, but—”

Ed coughed. It hurt like fire roaring along the inside of his throat, and he wasn’t sure if there was supposed to be a pop in his shoulder just from coughing.

“Oh!” Stede rounded the table to hurry over to him, hands grasping at his shoulders and guiding him over toward the bed. “Darling, you should have just said you were sick.”

Ah. So that was why Stede wouldn’t say it outright: it felt nice to have someone notice and worry over you.

He let Stede take over, let himself be undressed and wrapped in his favorite robe and tucked under the covers. Idly, he wondered if this is how rich folk felt all the time, having their whims and need catered to on every level.

“You lay here, I’ll get you some tea with honey for that throat.”

Then Stede kissed his forehead, and while he left, Ed was flooded with memories he had forgotten.

He remembered the time he was ill, more than a little, enough that his mother stayed by his side until he was well. He remembered the way she stroked his hand and put a cloth to his forehead, the hushed tones of her voice as she sang a lullaby.

He remembered how, no matter how sick she was, she never just laid in bed. She had to work, so she worked. He had begged her once, when she had a rash across her face and chest, and he remembered her response.

We don’t have that luxury.

He let his eyes close as he enjoyed the luxury of lying in bed and waiting for honeyed tea to be delivered to him.

How would she feel if she saw him like this? Proud that he had that luxury now, or disappointed that he’d grown soft and weak?

When Stede returned with the tea, he sipped it slowly, letting the warmth and honey soothe his throat. Stede sat beside him on the edge of the bed, fingers moving through his hair, pausing occasionally to massage his scalp.

Then he began to hum, a melody Ed had heard before but couldn’t quite place. He shifted on the bed to lay back down, his forehead against Stede’s thigh.

“What song’s that,” he asked as he closed his eyes.

There was a pause before Stede’s hand started to move through his hair again and the man began to sing in a voice so quiet that Ed couldn’t be certain he wasn’t just imagining it.

“I saw a ship a-sailing,

“A-sailing on the sea.

“And, oh, but it was laden

“With pretty things for thee.

“There were comfits in the cabin,

“And apples in the hold,

“The sails were made of silk,

“And the masts were all of gold.”

Ed chuckled as he felt the pull of sleep take over. “What’re comfits?”

Stede leaned down and kissed his forehead, mumbling against his skin, “I’ll endeavor to find some so you can try them for yourself.”

It was nice, Ed thought as he drifted off, that he could have these things, like sick days and whatever comfits were.

He chose to believe his mother would be proud of that.

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[kharti]

[ In Over His Head #100 ]

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Stede, to his delight, had one of Jack’s arms pinned and pressed his knee to his back to hold him down. His right ear was still ringing from a blow, and he was fairly certain he was going to have a good few nasty bruises, but he was also the stronger one.

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Stede, to his delight, had one of Jack’s arms pinned and pressed his knee to his back to hold him down. His right ear was still ringing from a blow, and he was fairly certain he was going to have a good few nasty bruises, but he was also the stronger one.

He understood, just a bit, why some people might become bullies. It was intoxicating to be the stronger one for once.

“The fuck—” Jack gasped for air, his face bright red from exertion. “The fuck is wrong with you?”

“Great question!” Stede tried to laugh, but he was too out of breath himself. So he just sort of wheezed and kept a firm grip on Jack’s arm. “I don’t know, to be honest.”

Jack grunted. “What’ll take to get ya off my back?”

Stede gave a thoughtful hum and drummed his fingers. “I suppose I’ll be satisfied if you admit you’ve been bested by me.”

“He domesticated Blackbeard,” Izzy’s voice cut in like a knife, slicing the mirth from the moment. “You should yield before you start calling him Daddy, begging for—”

Stede’s grip loosened and he turned to look over at the man standing next to the railing, not looking back at him. Izzy’s gaze was toward the ocean, beyond it, somewhere far away.

Jack took the moment to break free and spat a few insensitive remarks before stumbling off with a muttered need for rum. Stede couldn’t give him an ounce of attention, not with Izzy looking so… lost.

Izzy, meanwhile, ran his fingertips along the wood, pausing to feel where it splintered and digging his fingernails in there.

Stede idly wondered if his name was actually Hands, or if he had been given the moniker for the way he fondled silk and lace and wood and leather.

“What is your problem with me, exactly?” Stede asked but in a careful tone, with as much sincerity as possible. “I know we started off on a rather rocky footing, but you seem to.” He hesitated. “Hate me.”

Izzy’s lip curled in a brief sneer. He finally turned to look at him, and when their eyes met, Stede saw it.

The lovelorn heartbreak.

Izzy had the eyes of a man who’d lost everything.

And it was, in that moment, that Stede understood more than he’d ever expected to about him.

“Oh,” he said, and clasped his hands together. “I’m sorry.”

There was a flash of anger in Izzy’s face, certainly, but it was hard to hide the hurt when it had already been spotted. “What does he even see in you?”

Stede breathed in and stepped forward to stand beside him. He folded his forearms on the railing and sighed, dropping his gaze down to the water below. “I think it’s less what he sees in me, but what I see in him. What we see in each other.”

“The fock does that even mean,” Izzy growled without much conviction. “What do you see that no one else does?”

That I don’t, Izzy silently asked, and Stede heard.

“Him.” Stede smiled at the way the waves lapped against the hull of the ship. “I saw him. Knew him from one look. In our first conversation, I saw a man who, like me, was so convinced of what he deserved that even he believed he couldn’t have what he wanted.”

“It doesn’t make any sense.” The leather glove crackled as Izzy clenched it at his side, his other hand ripping a strip of wood up and dropping it over the edge. “I’ve known him years. A decade. Almost two. And you say you ‘saw’ him after a few hours.”

Right away, actually, but Stede didn’t say that aloud.

He didn’t voice the way it had felt like they were one soul in two bodies suddenly connected after a lifetime apart.

He just nodded and kept quiet.

Izzy’s shoulders hunched and he bent down to put his forehead on his hand that clenched the railing. “Fuck,” he muttered, his voice so tight that it strangled his usual manner of speaking. “He said the same god-damn fucking thing.”

That made Stede’s heart flutter a bit. Not excitedly, per se, but more nervously, anxiously. This moment felt important in a way he wasn’t quite sure of yet.

They stood there, neither moving or speaking while the ocean and wind and ship moved around them.

Then Izzy straightened up and turned toward him. “Do you have rings?”

Stede blinked a couple times. “I—yes?”

“Wedding rings,” Izzy elaborated, his eyes darting down to look at Stede’s hands, then up not quite to meet his gaze, fixed somewhere lower. “Twat.”

“Oh. Right. I—” He looked at his own hands, at the assorted but meaningless rings on his fingers. “I suppose not.”

Izzy sighed, but he sounded less frustrated and more… amused, if Stede had to try to name the emotion. “Come on.” He turned and stalked across the deck toward a door that stood ajar.

Ed watched them from just the other side, moving as soon as he noticed their approach, and Stede couldn’t help the smile that pulled at his lips.

While Izzy strode into the room and started to rummage around, Stede stopped next to Ed, who gave him a concerned look.

“I think he’s—searching for rings?” Stede offered a small shrug.

Ed glanced between the two of them. “Yeah?”

“No,” Izzy snapped over his shoulder. “Just. Shut up for once in your life.” He yanked a drawer open, then pulled out a wooden box and tossed it on a nearby table. “Both of you, sit down.”

Stede obeyed without question, but Ed stayed still, his eyes locked on the box, a distinct softness on his face.

“Iz—”

“Sit.” Izzy pulled out the chair and looked at him with an impassive expression. He added, quietly, “Please.”

Ed stepped over and hesitated again, then sat down, facing Stede, his brow furrowed and his eyes so, so soft.

Then, rather suddenly, Izzy just left. Stede expected the door to slam behind him, but he shut it without a sound.

“What’s in the box?” Stede asked, biting the inside of his cheek. “What’s going on?”

Ed finally showed a small smile and reached over and flipped the metal latch on the front. “It’s his old tattoo kit. Nice one. Fer special occasions, commem’rative stuff. Not th’ones I got ‘cause I was drunk an’ bored.”

“Oh?” Stede watched the lid as it was lifted up to reveal the dark velvet interior, some sort of deep green color that was nearly black.

A long, pristinely clean silver rod with a sharp tip was nestled alongside a capped vial of black powder.

Izzy had made a show of looking for it, but it was a treasured item. Stede doubted the man didn’t know exactly where it was.

“Seems like he’s suggestin’ that”—Ed picked up the needle and tested the tip against his finger—“we get more perm’nent rings.”

Stede’s brow shot up as he looked down at his own bare ring finger, then Ed’s, then back up at him. “Right now?”

“Yeah.” Ed looked at him with eyes that spoke for him, and he continued with different words. “If… y’want.”

The real question was, You asked if this was permanent, Stede. Did you mean that?

So Stede answered with a smile and placed his left hand on the table between them, fingers spread, the ring finger pointed toward Ed. “I do.”

And the real answer was, Till death do us part.

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