captainbonnetslog

[captainbonnetslog]

@actofgrxce And Stede is over here! Let's plot!

[captainbonnetslog]

Stede mumbled something pitchy into Ed's hair. His cheek and neck felt like they were on fire where Ed's lips had touched him, and he was positive his pallid skin had flushed an embarrassing shade of bright red all over. He wanted to stay hidden in Ed's soft hair forever, avoiding the implications of all this, but Ed's words deserved an answer. So Stede reluctantly withdrew from the safety of Ed's hair to face the man himself.

And when he did, the soft, adoring look on Ed's face nearly melted him. His already reddened face grew redder somehow and broke into the dopeyest grin.

No one had ever looked at him like that before.

No one had ever wanted him before.

And he told Ed as much, in a voice that dipped and cracked like a school boy's.

"You didn't scare me, Ed. I promise. It's just... that's never happened before. Someone wanting me, I mean. No one's ever done that before. Wanted me. To be theirs. No one's really wanted me around at all before. So I never thought...."

He trailed off. Smooth. Very smooth.

Closed Starter for @captainbonnetslog

"Ed barely knows what the fuck to do with himself..."

...he's such a mixed up flurry of emotions. He's never felt like this, or maybe he has and it's just been a really fucking long time. So long he's forgotten it....nah, this is definitely new. The way Stede had tucked the red silk into his breast pocket and looked at him like he mattered, like he was worthy of something, it felt like a kick to the gut. This is getting out of hand. When he looked at the other man at that moment, when those words "you wear fine things well" were said, Ed knew he was in love.

And just what in the sweet fuck is he supposed to do about that?

He's supposed to be plotting to kill Stede, not fall for him. This wasn't even remotely in the plan, but it's how he feels and there's no changing it now, he's in too deep. They'd left so awkwardly when they said goodnight, and Ed can't sleep, so twisted up inside. He has to talk to the other man again, see if he can makes sense of this...

It's a bit late when he moves to sit at the foot of Stede's bed, reaching to gently shake him awake with hushed whispers of his name. When the other man stirs and removes his sleep mask to blink at him, Ed grins, apologetic. "Hey. Sorry, mate. Can't sleep, wanted to talk to you, if that's alright?"

[captainbonnetslog]

Stede was a little bit startled by Ed's suddenly leaning towards him, and turned his head, keeping it in line with Ed's. As a result, that little kiss that had been meant for his cheek landed squarely on Stede's lips.

Stede's entire brain and body ground to a sudden, screeching halt.

Ed had kissed him.

Ed was kissing him, right now.

Ed's lips were very gentle against his own.

His lips were soft on Stede's and their hands were clutching eachother desperately and his heart was racing and he felt flushed and like he never wanted to let go but also like he simply might spontaneously combust and most of all he simply never ever ever wanted this moment to end and oh...

Oh.

OH.

Oh dear.

He'd read about such things before. In novels. He'd never felt anything like it in his life. He'd thought those novels were over exaggerating, really, but he was beginning to understand. The knots in his stomach. The constant frantic heartbeat. The way he got so heated watched Ed fight or work or talk or do anything really. It wasn't some strange sea illness. It was love. He was in love with Ed.

And Ed was kissing him, right now.

Time seemed to restart, and Ed pulled away, looking more than a little dazed. Stede could only imagine the beyond-shocked expression that must be in his own face. He felt himself starting to blush that unflattering shade of pink.

He tried to speak.

A sort of garbled choking noise came out. So he stopped trying to speak.

So he was in love with Ed. There was quite a lot to unpack there. But first he just .... He needed Ed to be close to him again and the man seemed to be retreating after seeing Stede's bizzare reaction. He had to stop that. So he flung himself at Ed, arms wide, and wrapping him in a crushing, desperate embrace, burying his blushing face in that mane of glorious curls that smelled of musk and woodsmoke and a little bit of lavender soap.

Closed Starter for @captainbonnetslog

"Ed barely knows what the fuck to do with himself..."

...he's such a mixed up flurry of emotions. He's never felt like this, or maybe he has and it's just been a really fucking long time. So long he's forgotten it....nah, this is definitely new. The way Stede had tucked the red silk into his breast pocket and looked at him like he mattered, like he was worthy of something, it felt like a kick to the gut. This is getting out of hand. When he looked at the other man at that moment, when those words "you wear fine things well" were said, Ed knew he was in love.

And just what in the sweet fuck is he supposed to do about that?

He's supposed to be plotting to kill Stede, not fall for him. This wasn't even remotely in the plan, but it's how he feels and there's no changing it now, he's in too deep. They'd left so awkwardly when they said goodnight, and Ed can't sleep, so twisted up inside. He has to talk to the other man again, see if he can makes sense of this...

It's a bit late when he moves to sit at the foot of Stede's bed, reaching to gently shake him awake with hushed whispers of his name. When the other man stirs and removes his sleep mask to blink at him, Ed grins, apologetic. "Hey. Sorry, mate. Can't sleep, wanted to talk to you, if that's alright?"

[captainbonnetslog]

Stede shuffled a little bit, uncomfortable under the all too familiar disgust in her gaze. His hand dipped in his pocket to retrieve the scrap of worn red silk satin that was never far from his hands these days.

"Well, I have it on the highest authority that it's quite refreshing to see someone doing something different out here." He said, significantly quieter and a little poutily, if he was completely honest with himself. "Besides nothing bad has ever come of rescuing people from dinghies in the middle of the ocean!" He paused, thinking of a certain ex-friend-of-a-friend. "Well except for that one time. That was something of a fluke. But since you're not Calico Stupid Jack, I can't see the harm!"

That got a little chuckle from his crew and a hissing mutter from Buttons as Stede offered his hand to the woman to shake since she'd finally introduced herself.

"Well it's nice to meet you!" He said. "Please, have a salmon and cucumber sandwich. Our cook, Roach is an absolute genius. And do dry off. Wouldn't want you getting ill. Roach is a far more competent chef than physician I fear. So where are you headed, Miss Bonny? I am afraid our heading is a little fluid right now, we're in pursuit of a rather erratic ship, but if anywhere we stop is convenient for you I'd be glad to help!"

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Buttons had spotted the dingy, it was always Buttons who spotted those such things, and corrected their course just a bit to the left, and pulled them up alongside the little, hardly seaworthy, vessel.

“Captain.” He intoned, walking straight up to Stede where he stood, trying to sus out their location on a a slightly waterlogged map. “There appears to be a mermaid to port. Permission to bring it aboard?”

“A mermaid?” Stede squawked, launching himself to port and looking over the side. His face fell when he saw the dingy, though. “Buttons that’s not a mermaid. That’s a lady! Bring her up! Crew! We have a guest coming aboard!”

The crew fell into a flurry of action. Roach got sandwiches. Wee John brought towels. Pete brought some rope, not really for any particular reason, but you know rope is always useful.

And, shortly, a slightly damp lady popped over the edge, rudely refusing the offered hands.

“Welcome Aboard the Revenge’s Revenge!” He said proudly. She was a beautiful ship, after all. An improvement on the first, he dared. “I am your Captain, The Gentleman Pirate, and this is my loyal and fearsome crew!”

She didn’t really acknowledge his little introduction, which took some of the wind out of his sails. Her rather abrupt question took the rest.

“You were out there in a dingy!” He replied huffily, a bit off-put. He thought most people were GLAD to be rescued but she seemed…. suspicious. “With no food or water, miles from anything. Imagine if a storm swell hit you. You’d be lost!”

His hands had migrated to his hips as he unsuccessfully tried to step into her gaze multiple times. She kept looking at the crew. “Besides, I’m the gentleman pirate. It wouldn’t be very gentlemanly to leave a lady out there alone!” He paused, with a panicked frown. “Unless of course you’re not a lady. You’re a gentleman? Or both? Neither? That’s alright too. We’re quite aquatinted with that sort of thing here!” He finished, with a nervous gaze in Jim’s direction. They gave him a subtle thumbs up. And he smiled and continued.

“Anyway, we intend to give a gentle……someone….a hand whenever we can!”

Every time the damned fool tried again to block her vision, a contemptable look of disgust passed over her face until finally it stuck in an open baring of her teeth, eyes like broken shards of sea-glass ready to stab this fleshy pink intruder in his nice clothes and his fancy airs and leave him for dead on the deck. On and on and on about being a gentleman, as if that would make this situation any bit better.

–Or at least, such was her look before he fumbled around her identity. Rage was replaced posthaste with suspicion, eyes narrowing a small bit as she tried to reason out whether she was being fucked with or not. Ultimately, she landed on NOT.

“Gentleman Pirate my arse,” she replied, crossing her arms and angling her head up so she could look down her nose at him. “Pirates don’t go pullin’ dinghies out of the water; idiots do. Are you a fuckin’ idiot?”

She waited for answer, despite not needing one.

“I’m Anne fuckin’ Bonny.” Not a lady, not a gentleman, just a godforsaken pirate–the Lady Pirate, though the epithet was hardly a favorite of hers.

[captainbonnetslog]

"Ed?" Stede's voice cut the thick silence unsteadily. The pirate he'd once known too well as Ed had just ...... stopped. All that nervous energy that lived inside of him, constantly ticking and seemingly driving him like some infernal, eternal automaton has seemingly just come unwound and....stopped. It was the most unnerving thing he'd ever seen. Ed wasn't meant for stillness. Not like this.

Stede leaned forward slowly, pushing himself in Ed's direction. "Ed, are you alright?" He tested the waters with again. And when he received no response, he crawled the few feet between them on sore hands and soaked knees till he was sitting just beside Ed, nearly touching him.

"Ed...I'm going to touch you now. Okay?" He said softly. He didn't really expect a response and didn't receive one. It was more just a warning that would hopefully prevent violence, though he's prefer a sound stabbing to this horrid, sudden still. "It's going to be okay, Darling." He whispered.

He slowly, carefully draped both his arms over Ed's shoulders, tugging him closer till the balled up pirate tipped a little to lie against Stede's chest. And then he held him. He just held him there, in his arms with Ed's head tucked against Stede's still-bleeding jaw, quietly stroking a hand through his beautiful curls.

captainbonnetslog.​

Without the pressure of the knife keeping him up against the wall, Stede crumpled to the floor, a wet, bloody, crying mess, staring up at Ed as he retreated, cowering against the wall from Ed’s outburst. For a moment he just watched the other man pace through his tears.

Of all things to fixate on, he got caught up watching Ed’s hands twist around in his hair, yanking the root up from the scalp and tangling those gorgeous curls. One hand reached out weakly as if to extract Ed’s hands from his scalp and detagle that soft cloud on hair. It fell lamely back into his lap as Ed continued to pace.

“Ed?” He asked quietly after a moment. “Please Ed. Don’t blame yourself. Blame me. Don’t hurt yourself. Hurt me. I cannot bear to see you hurting. Put whatever this is on my shoulders. I would carry the world for you if I could and thank you for the privlidge, if just to finally be able to tell you that I love you Ed.”

He paused again, catching Ed’s gaze and repeating the words he’d come all this way to say with a sudden resolve.

“I love you. I have loved and always will love you. If I understood that too late I accept it. But I had to tell you.”

❝ No, no, no, no, no… ❞    Ed murmurs quietly, over Stede’s words, only half there, half hearing; what breaks through, freezes him on the spot, is the I love you.

Nothing feels real; he feels like a ghost. It takes him several moments to register that he’s staring at Stede now, their eyes locked. He feels everything and nothing all at once, his heart a whirpool trapped in a thin glass cage.

Then why did you leave me?! he wants to scream, but no words come out at all, not a sound.

He crumbles on the spot. Sinks onto the floor, on his knees, his bad knee feeling like a knife’s being twisted through it as it hits the floor, but even that he feels as if through a thick haze. He keeps catching up to what his own body is doing several seconds too late, now noticing that he’s shaking. Instinctively he holds himself, hugs himself, makes himself small. The tears, too, he notices late, streaming down his cheeks, tracking the charcoal round his eyes with them.

❝ No, ❞    he repeats, his voice breaking into a sob. Stede can’t love him. Stede had left, Stede is the villain. If he doesn’t fill that role for Ed, then everything else he’s doing is a lie, too.

[captainbonnetslog]

He wanted to stay.

Oh joy! He wanted to stay!

Stede lit up like a tree at Christmas, a smile growing rapidly, making round pink apples of his cheeks. Ed wanted to stay!

Stede had been inwardly dreading the day that Ed finally got bored of him, as he knew he inevitably would, and left, leaving Stede's life..... empty. But here he was saying the the exact opposite and he couldn't contain his joy. He surged forward, practically onto his knees, and grabbed one of Ed's hands in both of his own.

"Stay!" He said, a little breathless in his eagerness. Then he realized exactly how desperate he must sound, and sat back a little, clearing his throat to try and regain some semblance of dignity. He kept Ed's hand clasped between his though.

"Erm....I mean," He began again, trying hard to not sound as eager as he was "You're welcome to stay as long as you like. Indefinitely. Forever even! I mean, if you want to......." He trailed off rather lamely.

"I'm glad you're happy Ed." He said quietly after a moment of just looking down at their hands clasped together and wondering why the devil that made his stomach twist up into a Gordian knot. "I want you to be happy. I'm happy with you here. With me. Together."

Closed Starter for @captainbonnetslog

"Ed barely knows what the fuck to do with himself..."

...he's such a mixed up flurry of emotions. He's never felt like this, or maybe he has and it's just been a really fucking long time. So long he's forgotten it....nah, this is definitely new. The way Stede had tucked the red silk into his breast pocket and looked at him like he mattered, like he was worthy of something, it felt like a kick to the gut. This is getting out of hand. When he looked at the other man at that moment, when those words "you wear fine things well" were said, Ed knew he was in love.

And just what in the sweet fuck is he supposed to do about that?

He's supposed to be plotting to kill Stede, not fall for him. This wasn't even remotely in the plan, but it's how he feels and there's no changing it now, he's in too deep. They'd left so awkwardly when they said goodnight, and Ed can't sleep, so twisted up inside. He has to talk to the other man again, see if he can makes sense of this...

It's a bit late when he moves to sit at the foot of Stede's bed, reaching to gently shake him awake with hushed whispers of his name. When the other man stirs and removes his sleep mask to blink at him, Ed grins, apologetic. "Hey. Sorry, mate. Can't sleep, wanted to talk to you, if that's alright?"

[captainbonnetslog]

Buttons had spotted the dingy, it was always Buttons who spotted those such things, and corrected their course just a bit to the left, and pulled them up alongside the little, hardly seaworthy, vessel.

"Captain." He intoned, walking straight up to Stede where he stood, trying to sus out their location on a a slightly waterlogged map. "There appears to be a mermaid to port. Permission to bring it aboard?"

"A mermaid?" Stede squaked, launching himself to port and looking over the side. His face fell when he saw the dingy, though. "Buttons that's not a mermaid. That's a lady! Bring her up! Crew! We have a guest coming aboard!"

The crew fell into a flurry of action. Roach got sandwiches. Wee John brought towels. Pete brought some rope, not really for any particular reason, but you know rope is always useful.

And, shortly, a slightly damp lady popped over the edge, rudely refusing the offered hands.

"Welcome Aboard the Revenge's Revenge!" He said proudly. She was a beautiful ship, after all. An improvement on the first, he dared. "I am your Captain, The Gentleman Pirate, and this is my loyal and fearsome crew!"

She didn't really acknowledge his little introduction, which took some of the wind out of his sails. Her rather abrupt question took the rest.

"You were out there in a dingy!" He replied huffily, a bit off-put. He thought most people were GLAD to be rescued but she seemed.... suspicious. "With no food or water, miles from anything. Imagine if a storm swell hit you. You'd be lost!"

His hands had migrated to his hips as he unsuccessfully tried to step into her gaze multiple times. She kept looking at the crew. "Besides, I'm the gentleman pirate. It wouldn't be very gentlemanly to leave a lady out there alone!" He paused, with a panicked frown. "Unless of course you're not a lady. You're a gentleman? Or both? Neither? That's alright too. We're quite aquatinted with that sort of thing here!" He finished, with a nervous gaze in Jim's direction. They gave him a subtle thumbs up. And he smiled and continued.

"Anyway, we intend to give a gentle......someone....a hand whenever we can!"

@captainbonnetslog

Anne didn’t wait for the hands that had pulled up the dingy to reach in for her. She hoisted herself over the lip of the ship with a grace little seen by others, boots hitting a staccato rhythm as they landed aboard. From the shadow of her hat she surveyed the ragtag galley of rogues facing her–one big and broad, several quite gangly, one short and squat–but none stood out so much as the fop in the suit addressing her.

Whatever he was saying went unheard; Anne spoke over him without so much as blinking, eyeing the crew instead. “What the fuck are you doing fishing random dinghies out of the sea?”

[captainbonnetslog]

Stede leaned in, nodding gently, his eyes locked on Ed, even when Ed looked away. He wanted to make sure Ed felt heard when he divulged these softer parts of himself that Stede had begun suspecting Ed often repressed. He wanted Ed to feel, well, safe with him. It was a funny notion really, that he, Useless Stede Bonnet, could make anyone, particularly the famed Blackbeard, feel unsafe, but sometimes there was a certain hesitation to the way Ed spoke about certain topics that reminded Stede of the fearful way he'd spoken as a younger man. And he didn't want any anyone to feel that fear of their own voice, least of all dear, precious Ed.

"Ed." He said softly, laying a hand companionably on the other man's knee and waiting for him to meet his gaze before he continued. "You never need to thank me for speaking the truth. The confidence and grace of your bearing that make you cut a formidable figure at the helm of a ship also serve to give you the upright bearing of a true gentleman. I can see a real appreciation for the finer things in you Ed. And No one deserves them more."

He spoke with complete and utter sincerity, his blue eyes shining with the passionate way he spoke.

Closed Starter for @captainbonnetslog

"Ed barely knows what the fuck to do with himself..."

...he's such a mixed up flurry of emotions. He's never felt like this, or maybe he has and it's just been a really fucking long time. So long he's forgotten it....nah, this is definitely new. The way Stede had tucked the red silk into his breast pocket and looked at him like he mattered, like he was worthy of something, it felt like a kick to the gut. This is getting out of hand. When he looked at the other man at that moment, when those words "you wear fine things well" were said, Ed knew he was in love.

And just what in the sweet fuck is he supposed to do about that?

He's supposed to be plotting to kill Stede, not fall for him. This wasn't even remotely in the plan, but it's how he feels and there's no changing it now, he's in too deep. They'd left so awkwardly when they said goodnight, and Ed can't sleep, so twisted up inside. He has to talk to the other man again, see if he can makes sense of this...

It's a bit late when he moves to sit at the foot of Stede's bed, reaching to gently shake him awake with hushed whispers of his name. When the other man stirs and removes his sleep mask to blink at him, Ed grins, apologetic. "Hey. Sorry, mate. Can't sleep, wanted to talk to you, if that's alright?"

[captainbonnetslog]

Stede couldn't sleep.

He wasn't entirely sure why. His heart was pounding like he'd just climbed five flights of stairs, even though he was laying down, and that was concerning to say the least. But that wasn't quite the thing that was keeping him up. No. Nor was it the strange discomfort in his stomach that felt all tickly and hollow. He was sure that was just from being a bit to on edge to eat at the stupid party. And he didn't think is was the odd, burning flush in his cheeks.

He thought for a moment as he lay there, twisting he's blanket in his hands, it must be the bright light of the full moon in his eyes keeping him awake. But no, he had his sleep mask on. Still, he FELT like he could see moonlight. Bright beautiful moonlight shining down and tangling it's light up in Ed's riotous curls, reflecting back at Stede in Ed's dark eyes. He really had looked radiant like that. Finery suited him. Leather also suited him. It seemed to Stede that everything would suit Ed. He was just that sort of man. Strong and capable and clever and ready for anything.

Stede was so lost in the consuming thought of Ed bathed in the moonlight that he didn't hear the door open, nor did he feel the bed dip with the other man's weight. He was rather startled when Ed's hands landed on his back, and he popped up rather quickly, with a rather undignified, startled sound.

"Ah! Ed!!" He said brightly when he saw who had surprised him. He always brightened a little when he saw Ed's face. There was just.... something about him. "No need to apologize, my good man. I wasn't even asleep yet!"

Stede scooted back and tucked his legs up beneath him, making room for Ed to make himself comfortable, and opened then curtains of the big bay window over the bed, bathing them both in that same moonlight from earlier. His stomach did an odd little flip flop when he saw the moonlight reflecting off Ed's curls, but he ignored it.

"You can talk to me about anything, Ed. Any time you need. I'm here."

Closed Starter for @captainbonnetslog

"Ed barely knows what the fuck to do with himself..."

...he's such a mixed up flurry of emotions. He's never felt like this, or maybe he has and it's just been a really fucking long time. So long he's forgotten it....nah, this is definitely new. The way Stede had tucked the red silk into his breast pocket and looked at him like he mattered, like he was worthy of something, it felt like a kick to the gut. This is getting out of hand. When he looked at the other man at that moment, when those words "you wear fine things well" were said, Ed knew he was in love.

And just what in the sweet fuck is he supposed to do about that?

He's supposed to be plotting to kill Stede, not fall for him. This wasn't even remotely in the plan, but it's how he feels and there's no changing it now, he's in too deep. They'd left so awkwardly when they said goodnight, and Ed can't sleep, so twisted up inside. He has to talk to the other man again, see if he can makes sense of this...

It's a bit late when he moves to sit at the foot of Stede's bed, reaching to gently shake him awake with hushed whispers of his name. When the other man stirs and removes his sleep mask to blink at him, Ed grins, apologetic. "Hey. Sorry, mate. Can't sleep, wanted to talk to you, if that's alright?"

[captainbonnetslog]

Without the pressure of the knife keeping him up against the wall, Stede crumpled to the floor, a wet, bloody, crying mess, staring up at Ed as he retreated, cowering against the wall from Ed's outburst. For a moment he just watched the other man pace through his tears.

Of all things to fixate on, he got caught up watching Ed's hands twist around in his hair, yanking the root up from the scalp and tangling those gorgeous curls. One hand reached out weakly as if to extract Ed's hands from his scalp and detagle that soft cloud on hair. It fell lamely back into his lap as Ed continued to pace.

"Ed?" He asked quietly after a moment. "Please Ed. Don't blame yourself. Blame me. Don't hurt yourself. Hurt me. I cannot bear to see you hurting. Put whatever this is on my shoulders. I would carry the world for you if I could and thank you for the privlidge, if just to finally be able to tell you that I love you Ed."

He paused again, catching Ed's gaze and repeating the words he'd come all this way to say with a sudden resolve.

"I love you. I have loved and always will love you. If I understood that too late I accept it. But I had to tell you."

captainbonnetslog.​

The knife snagged against Stede’s shirt on it’s long journey up his body to it’s resting point on his throat, tilting his head up so he was forced to look at Ed through his own lower lashes. He had no idea what Ed was doing, what this was about. Ed’s face was so hard. So cold. And suddenly Stede was very very scared. His heart seemed to be pounding in his throat. Then the blade bit into the skin of his neck.

His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, and he hissed in momentary pain. A rivulet of blood ran freely from the knifepoint, down his throat, pooling briefly in his collarbones before slipping down his chest and diffusing into the wet white fabric of his shirt, staining the area over his heart a bright, true red. He felt so vulnerable, so exposed. And when his eyes opened he saw Ed staring back at him with none of the warmth or love he’d come to know.

Tears began to well up in his bright eyes as he realized how stupid he’d been. Ed didn’t want him back. No one ever had and no one ever would. What had he been thinking? Still…. something in him had to try.

“You’re mad at me.” He said softly, barely holding back the spill of tears. “And you have every right to be. I’d hate me. I do! But….”

Ed had no intention of letting him speak. The knife in his throat was clear. His words trailed off. But he couldn’t stop the gasp at hearing Ed describe his own actions against the crew….and when he mentioned Lucius’s fate the tears that had been threatening finally began to flow freely, pouring, thick and silent from his bright eyes.

“You…killed Lucius?” He whispered. “But he was an innocent. This was my fault, Ed. Mine.”

His voice was getting pitchy, frantic, and he no longer seemed to care about the knife digging deeper into his throat as he strained against it. He was crying openly now.

“God! Badminton was right! I’m the curse. I’m the vile thing! I’ve destroyed everyone I’ve ever tried to love. He should have just shot me that night in the woods. I should have died. Everyone would be better off that way!”

Stede was shaking but he draped his hand tenderly over Ed’s on the handle of the blade guiding him to dig the point in deeper. The red stain on his wet shirt was rapidly growing covering most of his ribcage now.

“It’s okay, Ed. Just do it. Its for the best.” His voice was soft when he spoke again, full of unrestrained adoration. “I forgive you.”

The thing is, he doesn’t hate Stede. He never did. He needs it to be the other way round, needs Stede to be the one to hate him. Ed’s angry, sure, but even that is mostly just heartbreak and sadness and every vulnerable emotion that’s there made into anger.

But he doesn’t get what he wants from Stede. Instead of hatred, he’s given tears. Fear. That’s not…

It feels like Stede’s  stabbed him.  The way he whispers about Lucius. And Ed doesn’t know what to feel, then, because he should be proud about it, proud about breaking free of his own demons and killing with his own two hands. Proud of being who he is, in all his ruthlessness. But what threatens to bubble up isn’t pride, it’s… regret. He’d murdered the boy unprovoked. Listened to his drowning cries for help.

No, no, no, no, he can’t…!

He needs to be Blackbeard.

Else everything’s going to fall apart.

He doesn’t understand what Stede is babbling about. That night in the woods. He’s too overwhelmed to piece any of it together.

Ed startles when Stede presses his hand over his, urging him to dig the knife deeper into his flesh. What the fuck…? And he’s wide-eyed, again, staring, because he doesn’t know what he wants but this isn’t it. He won’t do this. There’s more blood than Ed’s realised, and…

I forgive you.

❝ Stop it, ❞    he barks, panicking.    ❝ Fucking stop it! ❞

Ed pulls back, the blade clattering onto the floor. Frantically, he unholsters his gun… only to shove it away, out of sight, behind the space of a cabinet. He can’t… be armed right now, he can’t be  dangerous,  he needs to run away from himself…!    ❝ Stop it. ❞

He’s pacing again, putting distance between them, avoiding looking at Stede. He pulls at his own hair; it’s difficult to breathe. He’s so fucking confused. He can’t go back, can’t let himself feel this, any of this, whatever this is. He needs to be Blackbeard. But he’s caught in a whirlwind of his own pain and everything is closing in on him, and he can’t run away from it, he can’t…!

[captainbonnetslog]

Ed was shaking. Cracking. It was enough to break any man's heart, let alone a man who was as desperately and fully in love as Stede was. So he did something that was probably inadvisable. He threaded his arms, thinner now than they once were, thankfully, through the bars of the brig and wrapped them around Ed, pulling him closer and cradling him from behind like a child just awoken from a nightmare, stroking his hair.

He couldn't help but think of Alma for a moment. Sweet girl. She used to cry like that and he'd hold her, stroke her hair. But he wasn't around to scare her with pirate tales any longer, so hopefully she'd never awaken in terror again.

"Shhhhh now love." He cooed into Ed's ear, soft and soothing and almost musical. "It's alright. It's all going to be alright."

He reached up, wiping the tears from Ed's eyes with the extra fabric of his sleeve, taking no note of the black khol getting, frankly, everywhere. How could he?

"If you can't find it in your heart to care about me, or even not to hate me, then I'll go. God only knows I don't deserve better, Ed." He purred gently, stroking his hands down Ed's arms and wishing he could reach through iron at that moment. "But for goodness sakes, love....they're not dead. I found them mere hours after you left. I was trying to find you but I found them instead. They're all safe at Nassau."

He was babbling a little, repeating himself, but maintaining that slow, musical, soothing sound.

"I'll turn around and never see you again, darling. It's probably for the best. Badminton was right about me. I am a scourge. No arguments there. A curse, and everyone is better off without me. That's become abundantly clear but just don't cry, love. Don't blame yourself. You're ok, Ed. You're ok. You're ok. You're loved."

He trailed off and pressed a kiss to the top of Ed's hair.

captainbonnetslog​:

Stede had lost count of how long he’d been down below the deck. The light this low down wasn’t great, and he’d been sleeping at such odd and fitfull intervals that day and night had lost all meaning.

The brig had been crudely installed in what had once been the ball room, it’s ugly metal bars and clumsy construction at sharp contrast with the elegance of the whole ship. Even with the…rather unfortunate…consmetic changes that had been implemented in his absence, his ship was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful things to ever have sailed, and, even locked up, there was a sort of comfort to being in her embrace once more.

So stede sat, silently, curled up in one corner of the cell with his cheek presses against the hull, stroking the smooth grain of her wood with one hand and thinking.

He thought Ed would forgive him, but he hadn’t even gotten a chance to speak.

He thought Ed would still love him, but he’d attacked him, thrown him in here.

He thought Ed hated him now….but….that kiss….

Either the thoughts themselves were dizzying, or going a few days on a few scraps of bread and some water was starting to get to his head, which, seemed to more like case, really.

He had nodded off in his cell once again, when the sound of another’s breathing roused him from his uncomfortable, uneasy slumber.

There was a figure slumped against the bars of his cell, little more than a shadow in the low light, but Stede knew immediately who it was.

“Ed.” He half breathed. But the other man didn’t seem to hear. He crawled closer. Ed, or Blackbeard, or whomever it was pressed against the bars, didn’t move a muscle.

Stede reached out and wound a stray curl around one finger. God he loved that hair. He loved Ed. Every inch of him.

He was definitely a bit delirious to be thinking that way about a man who seemingly wanted him dead, he realized. But he didn’t care. He just sat silently behind Ed, glad to be in his presence, untill the man spoke again.

Who did he think he was? “No one.” Came the plain, soft answer. “No one at best, and a curse at worst. A vile, confused little man unfit for this world. But….someone who loves you so very much.”

—

It’s the last thing Ed wants to hear. He screws his eyes shut, squeezing his arms around his legs as if trying to literally hold himself together. God, it’s pathetic how his first instinct is to throw himself at Stede. Why is he like this? Months spent wallowing. Seething even, but the first indication of being wanted again and he’s ready to leap right into Stede’s arms. It’s Jack fucking Rackham all over again. It’s every screaming blowout fight he’s ever had, will continue to have, with Izzy. Do whatever you want, just please don’t leave me!

Edward can’t hold it in anymore. His chest heaves with a sob and he wipes at his wet face with the back of his hand, surely only really managing to smear the kohl into an even sloppier mess. “I wasn’t supposed to ever see you again!” Maybe Ed had thought something like this could happen. Stealing Stede’s ship, kidnapping half his men, leaving the rest to certain death– maybe it had been a preventative act of self sabotage meant to keep the man in his brig from ever wanting him back.

He regrets all of it now. Had regretted it long before Stede turned back up. The only way he’s able to live with himself at all besides drinking himself blind every night is seeing the boy on deck– very much still alive despite Ed’s earnest attempt to drown him.

“I couldn’t even look your crew in the eye while handing down their death sentence! They’re dead because I ordered it! I threw Lucius, fucking Lucius!  Fucking overboard- I- Why are you here!” It doesn’t matter! There’s no turning back, Ed has made certain of it.

“You can’t stay here!” He still hasn’t moved from his position leaned against the bars, still hasn’t looked at Stede. Ed wipes at his eyes with both hands now, trying to at least stop crying if he can’t calm down. “I’ll make port and- and you’ll take the boy and the rest of your crew, and- and Ivan and Fang, and you’ll all fuck off and you won’t come back!”

Edward, on the other hand? Well, he’s going to continue on his path straight to hell and he’s dragging Izzy with him.

@captainbonnetslog​

[captainbonnetslog]

Stede had lost count of how long he'd been down below the deck. The light this low down wasn't great, and he'd been sleeping at such odd and fitfull intervals that day and night had lost all meaning.

The brig had been crudely installed in what had once been the ball room, it's ugly metal bars and clumsy construction at sharp contrast with the elegance of the whole ship. Even with the...rather unfortunate...consmetic changes that had been implemented in his absence, his ship was undoubtedly one of the most beautiful things to ever have sailed, and, even locked up, there was a sort of comfort to being in her embrace once more.

So stede sat, silently, curled up in one corner of the cell with his cheek presses against the hull, stroking the smooth grain of her wood with one hand and thinking.

He thought Ed would forgive him, but he hadn't even gotten a chance to speak.

He thought Ed would still love him, but he'd attacked him, thrown him in here.

He thought Ed hated him now....but....that kiss....

Either the thoughts themselves were dizzying, or going a few days on a few scraps of bread and some water was starting to get to his head, which, seemed to more like case, really.

He had nodded off in his cell once again, when the sound of another's breathing roused him from his uncomfortable, uneasy slumber.

There was a figure slumped against the bars of his cell, little more than a shadow in the low light, but Stede knew immediately who it was.

"Ed." He half breathed. But the other man didn't seem to hear. He crawled closer. Ed, or Blackbeard, or whomever it was pressed against the bars, didn't move a muscle.

Stede reached out and wound a stray curl around one finger. God he loved that hair. He loved Ed. Every inch of him.

He was definitely a bit delirious to be thinking that way about a man who seemingly wanted him dead, he realized. But he didn't care. He just sat silently behind Ed, glad to be in his presence, untill the man spoke again.

Who did he think he was? "No one." Came the plain, soft answer. "No one at best, and a curse at worst. A vile, confused little man unfit for this world. But....someone who loves you so very much."

Stede Bonnet has balls for days.

Edward doesn’t entertain the theory Bonnet hasn’t heard tell of the recent exploits of dread pirates Captain Blackbeard and First Mate Israel Hands tearing across the ocean like a storm devastating all in their wake. Merchant ships, fishing vessels, villages unfortunate enough to have settled along the coast. Leaving little to no survivors as proper pirates ought to do. 

No one is safe. Leading an increasingly brutal crew on a tour of never-ending raids. On to the next. He has to keep moving or he’ll drown.

So when Stede fucking Bonnet turned up on Ed’s deck in the dead of night scruffier and more rugged than he remembered but somehow just as deceptively earnest, Ed had laughed; a mad and joyless barking sort of sound. He reckons he’d looked just as unhinged as he feels these days, with his hair spilling loose and wild past his shoulders, black kohl smeared across his face.

He remembers having pushed Stede back against the mast with one hand while reaching for his knife with the other. Slamming his blade in the wood so far above the bastard’s head that even Edward wouldn’t be able to lie to himself about ever having any intention to actually hit him.

And Ed remembers kissing him, too. Hard and deep against that cherry wood bathed in moonlight, for just as long as it took for Ed to come back to himself and bark at Fang to throw the son of a bitch into the newly installed brig.

It’s where Ed sits now, days later after having finally gathered the courage to face Stede. Sitting on the floor in his leathers with his knees drawn to his chest, Ed’s back pressed against the bars so he can’t see Stede’s sweet face– so Stede can’t see the way silent tears streak down his own. 

The roiling torrent of rage he’d been stoking for months now, so hot Ed thought he may burn away completely with it, seems to have left him completely now. Leaving him instead with the grief of having been left behind– as fresh and raw as if it had happened just yesterday. 

Edward’s voice is low and calm, managing to keep it steady even as the rest of him shakes, “Who do you think you are?”

@captainbonnetslog

[captainbonnetslog]

The knife snagged against Stede's shirt on it's long journey up his body to it's resting point on his throat, tilting his head up so he was forced to look at Ed through his own lower lashes. He had no idea what Ed was doing, what this was about. Ed's face was so hard. So cold. And suddenly Stede was very very scared. His heart seemed to be pounding in his throat. Then the blade bit into the skin of his neck.

His eyes fluttered shut for a moment, and he hissed in momentary pain. A rivulet of blood ran freely from the knifepoint, down his throat, pooling briefly in his collarbones before slipping down his chest and diffusing into the wet white fabric of his shirt, staining the area over his heart a bright, true red. He felt so vulnerable, so exposed. And when his eyes opened he saw Ed staring back at him with none of the warmth or love he'd come to know.

Tears began to well up in his bright eyes as he realized how stupid he'd been. Ed didn't want him back. No one ever had and no one ever would. What had he been thinking? Still.... something in him had to try.

"You're mad at me." He said softly, barely holding back the spill of tears. "And you have every right to be. I'd hate me. I do! But...."

Ed had no intention of letting him speak. The knife in his throat was clear. His words trailed off. But he couldn't stop the gasp at hearing Ed describe his own actions against the crew....and when he mentioned Lucius's fate the tears that had been threatening finally began to flow freely, pouring, thick and silent from his bright eyes.

"You...killed Lucius?" He whispered. "But he was an innocent. This was my fault, Ed. Mine."

His voice was getting pitchy, frantic, and he no longer seemed to care about the knife digging deeper into his throat as he strained against it. He was crying openly now.

"God! Badminton was right! I'm the curse. I'm the vile thing! I've destroyed everyone I've ever tried to love. He should have just shot me that night in the woods. I should have died. Everyone would be better off that way!"

Stede was shaking but he draped his hand tenderly over Ed's on the handle of the blade guiding him to dig the point in deeper. The red stain on his wet shirt was rapidly growing covering most of his ribcage now.

"It's okay, Ed. Just do it. Its for the best." His voice was soft when he spoke again, full of unrestrained adoration. "I forgive you."

captainbonnetslog.​

When Ed opened the door of his old cabin, Stedes heart soared. There he was, alive and well! Well, perhaps not so well given the circles under his eyes and the unhappy pallor of his skin, but either way, he was here and they were together again and he was staring at Stede with those beautiful dark eyes wide with surprise and all Stede wanted to do was run right into his open arms and never let go…

But abruptly he saw Ed’s face change, go hard and cold, and he saw the man he loved disappear behind a wall as he was bodily dragged into his old cabin, the roughness of Ed’s touch definitely popping some seams on his wet shirt, and being slammed against a wall.

“Ed?” He asked questioningly, reaching up to cup Ed’s too hollow cheek in his hand. “Ed it’s ok. I’m back now. It was all a big….”

As he leaned forward he registered the blade poking into his stomach with alarm. He retreated back to the wall and raised his hands over his head, wide eyed, as he looked around the room. He couldn’t see much past Ed, as it was extremely dim in there, but he figured there must be someone else lurking in the shadows. Someone Ed was putting on this….bizzare act…for.

“Well there’s no need to get…pointy!” He huffed urgently. “Besides a man can hardly break onto his own vessel, Ed, dear. Now…what say we put that thing away? And talk?”

He’d shove Bonnet’s hand away if he had a free hand to do it with; he simply jerks his head away from the touch, almost violently, as if he’d been burned.    ❝ It’s Blackbeard. ❞    He doesn’t need this, doesn’t need Bonnet marching in here like nothing is wrong, doesn’t need to be called Ed, does not need the perverse gentleness.

At least the other finally seems to notice the blade. Good. Maybe the rest of this will be easier.

Only… the rest of what? Ed has absolutely no idea what he’s going to do next. Suppose they’ll both just have to find out.

He takes a step back to get some distance between them, releases Ste… Bonnet from being pinned and simply uses his knife, now, dragging it up until the tip of the blade meets Bonnet’s chin. He doesn’t need to tilt his head up with the blade but he presses on anyway. Basic intimidation.    ❝ It’s not your vessel anymore, Bonnet, ❞    he says, and it’s extremely hard to keep a hold of the coldness he’s trying to display, when he’s burning on the inside, burning with conflicting feelings he does not want to be feeling.

Instead of putting the blade away, he now presses it at Stede’s throat; this time, it’s enough force to break skin, but instead of following the thin trail of blood that makes it way down Stede’s neck, Ed is gazing directly into his eyes, through the darkness of the room. Never thought he’d see those eyes again. His own burn with fury, and something else, something he doesn’t allow himself, unblinking.    ❝ I don’t want to talk. I don’t wanna fuckin’ hear it. I should kill you. ❞    Why isn’t he?    ❝ Should kill you, like I killed your little playthings. ❞    He wishes for Stede to hate him. That would… make this less complex.    ❝ Left them all to starve. Except for the boy. The scribe. Him I drowned. ❞

[captainbonnetslog]

When Ed opened the door of his old cabin, Stedes heart soared. There he was, alive and well! Well, perhaps not so well given the circles under his eyes and the unhappy pallor of his skin, but either way, he was here and they were together again and he was staring at Stede with those beautiful dark eyes wide with surprise and all Stede wanted to do was run right into his open arms and never let go...

But abruptly he saw Ed's face change, go hard and cold, and he saw the man he loved disappear behind a wall as he was bodily dragged into his old cabin, the roughness of Ed's touch definitely popping some seams on his wet shirt, and being slammed against a wall.

"Ed?" He asked questioningly, reaching up to cup Ed's too hollow cheek in his hand. "Ed it's ok. I'm back now. It was all a big...."

As he leaned forward he registered the blade poking into his stomach with alarm. He retreated back to the wall and raised his hands over his head, wide eyed, as he looked around the room. He couldn't see much past Ed, as it was extremely dim in there, but he figured there must be someone else lurking in the shadows. Someone Ed was putting on this....bizzare act...for.

"Well there's no need to get...pointy!" He huffed urgently. "Besides a man can hardly break onto his own vessel, Ed, dear. Now...what say we put that thing away? And talk?"

captainbonnetslog.​

A Reunion Starter for @smokedanced

“My family is here now, at sea.

My family is here now, at sea.

My family is here now, at sea.

My family is here now, at sea.

My family is here now, at sea.”

He’d said it first months ago, when this has all started, before Ed. Before everything. But it seemed more potent now, as it echoed in Stedes head, over and over, keeping rhythm with the oars of the little dinghy that he was, probably foolhardily, on his second day of rowing out into open waters.

My family is here now, at sea.

It was finally true. Barbados was behind him. He’d done the only thing his family back there had ever wanted of him, died and left them all his money, and the family who wanted him, who cared about him and was waiting for him, they were out there, somewhere on his ship, waiting for him. And so he rowed on, no matter how his arms ached. His palms blistered, burst, and bled. The sun made a red painful stripe of the back of his neck and hands. But still he rowed. Rough waters nearly capsized him, and still he rowed, oars beating over and over in time.

My family is here now, at sea.

My family is here now, at sea.

Till at least, after nearly three days of rowing with no rest, he put to port at Nassau. The republic of pirates. The best possible place to find the whereabouts of his lost crew….and Ed.

Ed.

Stede was actively trying not to think of him. Of the way he must have felt when Stede didn’t turn up on that dock……and of the way his lips had felt against Stedes only a few hours before. Of his belly laugh. His mischievous grin. His glorious hair. He could think about Ed forever, but he needed to get things done. He needed to find them all. And he needed to explain himself. Ed would understand, if he could just explain, he told himself over and over again. Ed would understand. They loved each other. Ed wanted him. He’d understand.

The Republic of pirates had either entirely forgotten the Gentleman Pirate and the slight social miscalculations he’d made on his last visit, or he was unrecognizable without his flashy suits, because he was able to stride straight past Spanish Jackie into her establishment without her giving him a second look. And it only took a little asking around about his former crew and ship for him to find a lead, given freely from an older drunk with a crooked, leering grin.

“Yeah….I heard something about a crew traveling with Blackbeard on some right fancy ship. But I heard it ain’t ended so well.”

Stedes heart was beating in his throat as he nodded for the rather pungent older fellow to continue. “Yeah….bunch of the gits ended up having to be rescued by a schooner my mate was on. Something about a desert island and near cannibalism? Not sure. But theres a mad scott at the pub up the street frequently screaming about it.”

The words were barely out of the man’s mouth before Stede was standing up and dashing out, shouting insufficient thanks over his shoulder. And true to the old mans word, a voice was carrying halfway down the street from a pub a few doors down. A very familiar voice.

“Buttons!” Stede exclaimed with joy, bursting through the door. And there stood the Mad Scott in question, standing on a table, arms flung wide mid declaration, was his former first mate. Seated at the table beneath him were Oluwande, Roach, Wee John, and the Swede, and sitting on the floor cradling a pint was Black Pete.

Their mouths all fell open.

Buttons got his wits about him first.

“Be ye a ghost? A spirit?” He asked, wild eyed, leaning little away from the approaching Stede. That took Stede back a step.

“What? No…why would I be a ghost?”

It was Roach who replied.

“We thought you were dead man. Like super dead….why else would …..” he trailed off and their shocked faces all fell. Stede was blatantly confused. But thankfully Oluwande jumped in, smoothing things over in that way Stede often wished he could but never quite managed to do.

“Well, I, for one, am extremely glad you’re alive Captain.” He said, scooting his chair over to make room and gesturing for Stede to take a seat at the head of the table. “And I am glad you’re back.”

The wider crew echoed his statement, drawing their captain in with an unmatched warmth.

Yes. His family was here indeed.

They wasted no time in asking what had happened to him and he briefly related his tale. The academy. Ed’s plan to run away. Not the…personal bits…but most of it. The horrid Badminton brother. Barbados. Doug. How he finally figured out where he belonged and fuckeryed himself to freedom. Then finally asked the more important question that had been burning on the tip of his tongue; “But what happened to all of you? Where’s the ship?”

Their tale was surprising to say the least. Ed’s depression was understandable. He must have thought that Stede had abandoned him…..but marooning the crew? Kidnapping Jim and Frenchie and Lucius? It didn’t seem right at all. Like someone else….

“Izzy.” He deliclared darkly. “It must be all Izzy’s doing!” He surmised at the end of their tale. They looked back and forth between eachother, a bit confused.

“It was the Hands man that abandoned us on that little island…” Came the swede’s timid singsong after a fashion.

“And Izzy the spewer has tried to basically kidnap Blackbeard away before …” Black Pete chimed in.

“That little rat man was talking for Captain Ed a lot!” Roach added.

“Then that settles it!” Stede declared, standing up abruptly. “We need to go rescue our ship and our men back from Izzy hands!”

And so it was decided. Of course, they needed a boat first. But that turned out to be less trouble than they thought, as the owner of that particular pub was practically willing to pay them to ensure that Buttons never stood naked on tables hexing his patrons again, and that little money was enough to, with some creative bargaining on Oluwande part, and some blatant threats on Roach and Wee John’s, secure them a small craft. She wasn’t much to look at, and frankly what was left of the crew were barely able to all lie down on the deck at the same time, but she floated and had sails, and that was all that mattered. So off they went.

It wasn’t hard to find the Revenge again. Her reputation preceeded her, and there was a wake of destruction left in her wake, with stories of a new, short bearded, terrible Blackbeard at her helm.

Izzy, the crew of the Revenge’s Revenge, as they’d lovingly named their little sloop, concluded. It must be that vile Izzy hands. Stede practically vibrated with worry as he sat in what passed for the crows nest every spare moment, scanning the horizon for the familiar sight of his floating home. He could only imagine what that horrid little man was doing to his beloved crewmembers….and his beloved Ed. So he threw himself into working the boat. He coiled rope and rigged sails and scrubbed and toiled with the rest of them. He even slept on the deck, not that there was another option on the little rig, but still. If the crew was a little worried about the way their once prissy Captain seemed to have abandoned his sense of self in the dogged pursuit of the rest of their crew, they said nothing. It was a worry they all shared.

And then, finally, they saw Blackbeard’s flag on the horizon. It was the middle of the night, and Stede couldn’t sleep, so he climbed the mast with his spyglass and took to his customary watch. He wasn’t up there a moment when he spotted it, flapping in the light of the full moon, and he practically fell out of the rigging in his eagerness to tell everyone.

“Now.” He said, as they discussed their approach. “We don’t know what state everything is going to be in, so I think its best if we handle this gently. Any ideas?”

“Storm them and shoot that fucker Izzy in the face?” Suggested Black Pete.

“Blow him up?” Added Roach.

“Set him on fire?” Wee John contributed.

“Welp….not exactly what I was looking for but thank you for the contributions.” Sighed their Captain reluctantly.

It was Buttons who actually spotted their approach. There was a single rope left dangling over the side of the ship, trailing in the water in their wake. One man could swim silently up to the ship, climb the rope, and surriptitiously survey the situation aboard the ship then come back and report on how to proceed. It was, by far, the most sensible idea.

Everyone volunteered for the job, but in the end it was decided that Stede would go.

“It was my fuckup, guys. I was your captain and I failed you. This should be my risk to take.” He said….but he was also the only competent swimmer among them, having learned at boarding school. There was more than a few moments of doubt about whether their soft Captain was up to the task….but something about him had changed. It only took one look at his unkempt windswept hair and bandaged, scabbed hands to see that. So he stripped down to his shirt and trousers and made the swim to his beloved ship.

It was quiet on deck. There was a lookout facing the opposite way from the direction he’d climbed up, but everyone else seemed to be asleep below, so he allowed himself a moment to just commune with his beautiful boat. Oh it felt good to touch her again. To lay hands on her perfectly polished planks of high quality wood, and to see her decks shine in the moonlight. Someone had made some cosmetic additions in the form of unsightly spikes and black paint, but that would be easy to rectify. And he needed to replace the figurehead anyhow.

And there, standing in the moonlight, back on his beloved ship, confident in his impending rescue of his crew and vibrating with the prospect of seeing Ed again, he tipped his face towards the glowing full moon and finally allowed himself to truly smile and murmur with joy words he’d once murmured with panic upon that very same spot;

“My family is here now, at sea.”

He doesn’t sleep much, nowadays. Always too restless; lying down just makes his heart pound faster, makes him want to throw things. When he does sleep, it’s often after he’s been crying himself dry, collapsing in exhaustion. Or when he drinks himself to sleep. Izzy has to, periodically, storm his cabin and physically force him awake, though more often he simply barely shuts his eyes for an hour or two, restless.

It’s one of those restless nights, and Ed is pacing, a knife in hand, occassionally stabbing a wall, an empty shelf, a table. He feels better when he moves, when he gets himself  out of his head.

Daytime’s easier, at least when there’s some action. He takes his crew on raids more often than healthy, with less planning than a good captain should do. But he’s done with the fuckeries. He wants to kill with his own two hands, up close, not to be some  fucking ghost.  He’s flesh and bone, they’re flesh and bone, and he wants to be torn apart as much as he wants to tear them apart.

Wants to feel something physical to  get the fuck out of his head.

It’s better than being Edward, he tells himself. It was never going to work out; he’s been Blackbeard for a much bigger part of his life than he’s ever been just Ed. Best to do what he knows, kick it up a notch or two. It’s what people expect of him, anyway.

If he’s not Blackbeard, there’s nothing left to him. Edward is nothing but pain.

The biggest difference to who he was as Blackbeard before is that he doesn’t outsource the killing, anymore. No, he’s got a taste of it, now, even if it kind of feels like running, feels like something ominous is chasing him, right at his heels, and he has to keep running, keep getting away from whatever it is, lest it catch him. It’s not that different, he tells himself. He’s killed before, just not directly, up close. It’s not that different. It’s better this way. Living up to his reputation.

He should thank Stede Bonnet for forcing him to reach his full potential.

Stede Bonnet.

Ed has tried so hard to get rid of everything that could possibly remind him of his heartbreak, yet no matter how perfectly he empties the Revenge of Stede’s things, Ed thinks about him  every single day.

But he can’t let himself… It’s safer to make it all into anger. He’s Blackbeard. He doesn’t have a heart anyone can break.

He takes out that anger on the people he slaughters, sometimes takes it out on Izzy, too, but as for Bonnet’s old crew… for the most part, he pretends Jim and Frenchie are not there at all. Lets Izzy handle them, trusts his first mate to make sure there’s no mutiny brewing. Yet even though he’s more cold than he is cruel as a captain, he can tell they fear him now.

Good.

He thinks even Izzy fears him, now.

Brooding in his own misery, dressed in his leathers, his eyes and beard made up in their usual charcoal even in the middle of the night, Ed assumes it’s Izzy he hears the footsteps of outside his cabin. Irritated  ⸺  because it’s the middle of the night, it’s his time to be alone, unobserved  ⸺  he strides to yank open the door before there even is a knock.    ❝ The fuck do you want⸺ ❞

He falls silent when he realises it’s not Izzy at all.

For a moment, everything inside Ed falters at the sight of him. For a moment, but only for a moment, it’s almost as the mask he’s so carefully put on and never let go of crumbles into dust from the sheer turmoil of emotion he’s overcome with. But no… no. It’s glued on too deep, that mask, it’s become what he is, become all he is.

And it’s Blackbeard, not Edward, who yanks Stede Bonnet into the room and pins him to the wall, an arm rought at his throat, a knife pressing against his gut, not quite hard enough to injure… yet.

❝ Tell me, ❞    he says, voice low, dangerous, cold,    ❝ how many men have you come across, that’ve invaded my ship, and lived to talk about it? ❞

[captainbonnetslog]

A Reunion Starter for @smokedanced

"My family is here now, at sea.

My family is here now, at sea.

My family is here now, at sea.

My family is here now, at sea.

My family is here now, at sea."

He'd said it first months ago, when this has all started, before Ed. Before everything. But it seemed more potent now, as it echoed in Stedes head, over and over, keeping rhythm with the oars of the little dinghy that he was, probably foolhardily, on his second day of rowing out into open waters.

My family is here now, at sea.

It was finally true. Barbados was behind him. He'd done the only thing his family back there had ever wanted of him, died and left them all his money, and the family who wanted him, who cared about him and was waiting for him, they were out there, somewhere on his ship, waiting for him. And so he rowed on, no matter how his arms ached. His palms blistered, burst, and bled. The sun made a red painful stripe of the back of his neck and hands. But still he rowed. Rough waters nearly capsized him, and still he rowed, oars beating over and over in time.

My family is here now, at sea.

My family is here now, at sea.

Till at least, after nearly three days of rowing with no rest, he put to port at Nassau. The republic of pirates. The best possible place to find the whereabouts of his lost crew....and Ed.

Ed.

Stede was actively trying not to think of him. Of the way he must have felt when Stede didn't turn up on that dock......and of the way his lips had felt against Stedes only a few hours before. Of his belly laugh. His mischievous grin. His glorious hair. He could think about Ed forever, but he needed to get things done. He needed to find them all. And he needed to explain himself. Ed would understand, if he could just explain, he told himself over and over again. Ed would understand. They loved each other. Ed wanted him. He'd understand.

The Republic of pirates had either entirely forgotten the Gentleman Pirate and the slight social miscalculations he'd made on his last visit, or he was unrecognizable without his flashy suits, because he was able to stride straight past Spanish Jackie into her establishment without her giving him a second look. And it only took a little asking around about his former crew and ship for him to find a lead, given freely from an older drunk with a crooked, leering grin.

"Yeah....I heard something about a crew traveling with Blackbeard on some right fancy ship. But I heard it ain't ended so well."

Stedes heart was beating in his throat as he nodded for the rather pungent older fellow to continue. "Yeah....bunch of the gits ended up having to be rescued by a schooner my mate was on. Something about a desert island and near cannibalism? Not sure. But theres a mad scott at the pub up the street frequently screaming about it."

The words were barely out of the man's mouth before Stede was standing up and dashing out, shouting insufficient thanks over his shoulder. And true to the old mans word, a voice was carrying halfway down the street from a pub a few doors down. A very familiar voice.

"Buttons!" Stede exclaimed with joy, bursting through the door. And there stood the Mad Scott in question, standing on a table, arms flung wide mid declaration, was his former first mate. Seated at the table beneath him were Oluwande, Roach, Wee John, and the Swede, and sitting on the floor cradling a pint was Black Pete.

Their mouths all fell open.

Buttons got his wits about him first.

"Be ye a ghost? A spirit?" He asked, wild eyed, leaning little away from the approaching Stede. That took Stede back a step.

"What? No...why would I be a ghost?"

It was Roach who replied.

"We thought you were dead man. Like super dead....why else would ....." he trailed off and their shocked faces all fell. Stede was blatantly confused. But thankfully Oluwande jumped in, smoothing things over in that way Stede often wished he could but never quite managed to do.

"Well, I, for one, am extremely glad you're alive Captain." He said, scooting his chair over to make room and gesturing for Stede to take a seat at the head of the table. "And I am glad you're back."

The wider crew echoed his statement, drawing their captain in with an unmatched warmth.

Yes. His family was here indeed.

They wasted no time in asking what had happened to him and he briefly related his tale. The academy. Ed's plan to run away. Not the...personal bits...but most of it. The horrid Badminton brother. Barbados. Doug. How he finally figured out where he belonged and fuckeryed himself to freedom. Then finally asked the more important question that had been burning on the tip of his tongue; "But what happened to all of you? Where's the ship?"

Their tale was surprising to say the least. Ed's depression was understandable. He must have thought that Stede had abandoned him.....but marooning the crew? Kidnapping Jim and Frenchie and Lucius? It didn't seem right at all. Like someone else....

"Izzy." He deliclared darkly. "It must be all Izzy's doing!" He surmised at the end of their tale. They looked back and forth between eachother, a bit confused.

"It was the Hands man that abandoned us on that little island..." Came the swede's timid singsong after a fashion.

"And Izzy the spewer has tried to basically kidnap Blackbeard away before ..." Black Pete chimed in.

"That little rat man was talking for Captain Ed a lot!" Roach added.

"Then that settles it!" Stede declared, standing up abruptly. "We need to go rescue our ship and our men back from Izzy hands!"

And so it was decided. Of course, they needed a boat first. But that turned out to be less trouble than they thought, as the owner of that particular pub was practically willing to pay them to ensure that Buttons never stood naked on tables hexing his patrons again, and that little money was enough to, with some creative bargaining on Oluwande part, and some blatant threats on Roach and Wee John's, secure them a small craft. She wasn't much to look at, and frankly what was left of the crew were barely able to all lie down on the deck at the same time, but she floated and had sails, and that was all that mattered. So off they went.

It wasn't hard to find the Revenge again. Her reputation preceeded her, and there was a wake of destruction left in her wake, with stories of a new, short bearded, terrible Blackbeard at her helm.

Izzy, the crew of the Revenge's Revenge, as they'd lovingly named their little sloop, concluded. It must be that vile Izzy hands. Stede practically vibrated with worry as he sat in what passed for the crows nest every spare moment, scanning the horizon for the familiar sight of his floating home. He could only imagine what that horrid little man was doing to his beloved crewmembers....and his beloved Ed. So he threw himself into working the boat. He coiled rope and rigged sails and scrubbed and toiled with the rest of them. He even slept on the deck, not that there was another option on the little rig, but still. If the crew was a little worried about the way their once prissy Captain seemed to have abandoned his sense of self in the dogged pursuit of the rest of their crew, they said nothing. It was a worry they all shared.

And then, finally, they saw Blackbeard's flag on the horizon. It was the middle of the night, and Stede couldn't sleep, so he climbed the mast with his spyglass and took to his customary watch. He wasn't up there a moment when he spotted it, flapping in the light of the full moon, and he practically fell out of the rigging in his eagerness to tell everyone.

"Now." He said, as they discussed their approach. "We don't know what state everything is going to be in, so I think its best if we handle this gently. Any ideas?"

"Storm them and shoot that fucker Izzy in the face?" Suggested Black Pete.

"Blow him up?" Added Roach.

"Set him on fire?" Wee John contributed.

"Welp....not exactly what I was looking for but thank you for the contributions." Sighed their Captain reluctantly.

It was Buttons who actually spotted their approach. There was a single rope left dangling over the side of the ship, trailing in the water in their wake. One man could swim silently up to the ship, climb the rope, and surriptitiously survey the situation aboard the ship then come back and report on how to proceed. It was, by far, the most sensible idea.

Everyone volunteered for the job, but in the end it was decided that Stede would go.

"It was my fuckup, guys. I was your captain and I failed you. This should be my risk to take." He said....but he was also the only competent swimmer among them, having learned at boarding school. There was more than a few moments of doubt about whether their soft Captain was up to the task....but something about him had changed. It only took one look at his unkempt windswept hair and bandaged, scabbed hands to see that. So he stripped down to his shirt and trousers and made the swim to his beloved ship.

It was quiet on deck. There was a lookout facing the opposite way from the direction he'd climbed up, but everyone else seemed to be asleep below, so he allowed himself a moment to just commune with his beautiful boat. Oh it felt good to touch her again. To lay hands on her perfectly polished planks of high quality wood, and to see her decks shine in the moonlight. Someone had made some cosmetic additions in the form of unsightly spikes and black paint, but that would be easy to rectify. And he needed to replace the figurehead anyhow.

And there, standing in the moonlight, back on his beloved ship, confident in his impending rescue of his crew and vibrating with the prospect of seeing Ed again, he tipped his face towards the glowing full moon and finally allowed himself to truly smile and murmur with joy words he'd once murmured with panic upon that very same spot;

"My family is here now, at sea."

[captainbonnetslog]

Starter Call and Introduction for The Brigand of Barbados, The Cream of the Carribean....The Gentleman Pirate!

Stede Fucking Bonnet means so much to me and I am excited to start playing in his world. I write character driven, long form RP with an emphasis on collective storytelling elements and the cooperative crafting of a world. I prefer to stay in the cannon era, and to write with other characters from the OFMD verse, but if you pitch me a killer idea I'll write almost anything! I am of age, open to most things, and prefer person to person communication about plotting and boundries rather than a set trigger list as I have strong beliefs about the role of fiction in personal needs. I have been RPing in various fandoms for around 15 years, but please don't be intimidated by the number! If we vibe, I'll write like crazy!

So hop aboard, Crew!