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Chapter Text

Izzy Hands was more capable of hatred than anyone he had ever met. Everything that he hated, he made sure to hate with the passion of a thousand burning suns. He fucking hated summer because of the sweltering heat and the bugs that would swarm around the rations. He hated children because they were loud and unpredictable and utterly useless in most situations. He hated religion because God had no fucking business in his affairs. He hated the way perfume tickled his nose. He hated the way bananas tasted. He hated the way his subordinates would fuck around when they thought he wasn’t looking. Black leather gloves would grip wood tightly, painfully, before he barked at them to fucking find some work to do before they were tossed to the sea.

But there was one thing that he hated more than anything else in the whole world. Well, one person.

Stede. Fucking. Bonnet.

Stede fucking Bonnet took the whole fucking cake and then some.

It couldn’t have been enough for him to just be an idiot. When he came across the Revenge run aground on the sandy beach, with men loudly declaring they had lost their hostages, he chalked the events up to an inadequate captain that would succumb to death quicker than a moth burns itself on a flame. Actually meeting the fucker was agonizing. He would never forgive himself for being so distracted by Bonnet’s blatant stupidity. Losing the upper hand to the aristocrat playing pirate was utterly humiliating. The moment Stede Bonnet introduced himself and walked away alive, Izzy Hands swore that he would be the one to personally drain the life from his body.

And it was looking like he was going to get the chance.

When Fang reported that a crowded dinghy was making its way towards the ship, Izzy knew who it was in his fucking soul. No one dared approach their vessel, not with Blackbeard’s flag at the helm. Only someone missing a significant amount of brain cells would even attempt it.

There was only one logical conclusion to come to. And a quick peek through the spyglass confirmed it.

The fucker even had the audacity to wave.

Izzy hated waiting. There were precious minutes ticking by that he could’ve used to stab Stede in the gut being wasted on waiting for him to drift closer. He could hear the murmur of men that should have been ghosts. He could see Stede’s white linen shirt billow in the breeze, completely devoid of blood stains. It was all highly unacceptable.

His jaw set and he shook with silent fury. Blackbeard’s most recent order echoed in his ears as he watched the vermin that was known as Stede Bonnet sail up to the side of the ship. He was not the only one who spotted the former crew of the Revenge and it’s former captain.

“Offer him servitude, or death. Report back to me on what he chooses.” Blackbeard said flatly.

“You know Bonnet isn’t going to choose death!” Izzy snapped. “Why the fuck are you giving him a choice? Why not end this here and now?”

Smoke permeated the air. His captain was slung over a chair, his leg dangling off the plush armrest. No candles were lit except for one single flame that illuminated his desk and the captain’s quarters were shrouded in darkness. A haunting silhouette of a man could only be seen by the light from the windows behind him. Izzy’s question was left unanswered for a moment while his boss finished his smoke.

Blackbeard leaned forward so that he could be seen in the yellow candlelight. And Izzy was able to catch a glimpse of something he had come to fear.

Blackbeard’s deranged smile and kohl smeared all over his ragged face. The same smile that cost him a toe.

“Are you questioning me, Izzy?”

Izzy snapped back to the moment. One by one, men that were once marooned climbed their way back aboard. The large one, the Swede, the one who spoke to birds. The intelligent one, the cook, the one who could never shut the hell up.

And the man he couldn’t wait to squash like a fucking bug under the heel of his boot.

“Stede Fucking Bonnet, and associates,” Izzy Hands thundered, “You have two choices. Prisoners for life aboard Blackbeard’s Revenge, or a swift death. What will it be?”

Black Pete raised his hand. “Is it a swift and painless death, or swift and painful?”

Izzy thought for a moment before answering. “Depends on my mood.”

Pete turned to Wee John and shook his head. “I don’t like the uncertainty of that.”

Stede cleared his throat and stepped in front of his sun-weary crew. “May we speak to Blackbeard directly?”

Izzy’s smug smile turned quickly into a scowl. “You’re lucky if I bring you his boots to lick clean Bonnet. He doesn’t want to see any of you lot. Especially you.”

Stede’s heart sank. He had imagined every scenario possible of his return. Some bordered on hopeful, like teary hugs and admissions of tender love. Truthfully, he was expecting yelling, beatings, even being stabbed or shot repeatedly. But he didn’t think Ed would dismiss him completely. It was the worst outcome by far.

“I’d like to apologize.” Stede said somberly, his voice barely above a whisper.

“Not one of your fucking choices,” was Izzy’s reply. “Death or servitude? I really, really hope you pick death.”

Stede sobered up. The months that passed by seemed to flash before him in an instant. Going back home to a loveless house, uncovering his true feelings with Mary, shredding his old identity and climbing into a rickety dinghy with a new sense of purpose: declaring his love for Edward. He happened upon his old crew, piled them into the dingy alongside him, and embarked on his journey with trusted company by his side. Stede glanced back at them and knew instantly that they needed to recuperate. Sunburned, dehydrated, with very little in their bellies, the looks on the crew’s faces showed him that they had no fight in them. Not that he wanted that anyway.

“Afraid not this day,” Stede answered with a small defeated smile, “We are at your command.”

Izzy’s face contorted and he felt his cheeks become flush with anger. Of course he chose to live. Izzy never got what he fucking wanted.

“I hate you, Stede Bonnet.”

Chapter Text

Stede had missed his ship. Truly, she was a beauty. He thanked his lucky stars every night that he commissioned architects worth their salt to build such a glorious vessel. And being forced to clean the Revenge every day gave him a newfound appreciation for all of their hard work. The distinctive cherrywood, the way she glided like an angel over the harsh seas, every nook and cranny that was crafted with love, Stede tried his best to focus on all of these little nuances when his knees ached from scrubbing the floors by hand, or when his back begged for relief after he had to tear barnacles off her sides. As far as he knew, most of the crew were allowed to resume their normal duties. He wouldn’t know for sure, as Izzy declared that anyone talking to Stede would be fed to the sharks that frequented the waters of Barbados. And a wave of the hand would result in its removal.

It had been nearly two weeks since he returned and he was slowly adjusting to his new life on the Revenge. He didn’t question Izzy’s reinvigorated sense of disdain. He understood why Edward refused to see him. And yet, despite being prone to bouts of crying and experiencing the pangs of grief, Stede still preferred this life to the one he gave up at home. He loved Mary in a way that could never measure up to the amount she deserved. He loved his children enough to recognize that he was not worthy to raise them. Aside from Ed, Stede’s greatest love became the sea. And a life at sea, however unpleasant it had become, was enough to soothe his tired soul.

It still killed him to know the only person he would ever truly love despised him. Couldn’t even stand the sight of him. If he could just have a minute, he would do his best to explain and apologize and admit his love under the time constraint. He would babble on like an idiot, a fool in love, and beg Ed for a chance to make things right. Losing the only person that ever appreciated him, for everything that he was and everything that he was not, would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Stede’s floor scrubbing routine was interrupted by the sound of heavy boots and a cane thudding against the wooden floors. “Bonnet, you fucker,” Izzy said harshly, “I have a question for you. Why the fuck are you still here?”

Stede was quiet for a moment, taking the time to choose his words carefully. “And take away the opportunity for you to toss me overboard yourself? I wouldn’t dream of it.”

Izzy barked out a laugh. It surprised both of them. “You know, that might be the first and only time you’ll get a laugh out of me.”

“Then I shall cherish this moment forever.” Stede said with a weak smile.

“I mean it though Bonnet. Why haven’t you jumped ship? In a dinghy or otherwise.” Izzy leaned against the wall and peered down at the shell of the man beneath him. This wasn’t the version of Bonnet that he had met before, but he hated him all the same.

“I wanted to see Ed again.” Stede said plainly.

“Haven’t had the chance yet have you? Don’t know if you ever will.” Izzy said in a way that felt like a dagger in Stede’s chest.

“Oh I know that. I had a feeling, actually. But, I had to try.” Stede blinked away tears that were threatening to fall and looked down at the pail of soapy water. His sullen face, devoid of anything other than emptiness, stared back at him.

“I deserve all of this unhappiness.” He said, a thought spoken aloud.

Izzy rolled his eyes and gave Stede a hard thump on the head with his cane. “Don’t give me that self-deprecating shit Bonnet. I don’t understand what Blackbeard ever saw in you, but the fact is, you won his respect and then you went and shit all over it. Of course you deserve what you get. In fact, you fucking deserve worse.”

Izzy was starting to grow angry. And he didn’t know what the fuck talking to Stede was going to accomplish. He had come to make sure that his prisoner was miserable, and it didn’t satisfy him at all to know that he was right. He turned to walk away and stopped dead in his tracks when he heard Bonnet’s voice, barely above a whisper.

“I love him. I will always love him.”

Izzy turned and spit on the floor.

“Get back to scrubbing, you piece of shit.”

Izzy walked out of the room and was met with a dagger to the neck. It pricked at his rough skin and he flinched backwards. Blackbeard’s eyes shone with deadly fury. Izzy was immobilized. His hand gripped his cane tightly and he did his best to hide his discomfort by setting his face with a cold stare.

“You are going back upstairs.” Blackbeard demanded. “And you make sure not a soul comes down here. Understood?”

Izzy wanted nothing more than to fight him. Physically throw him to the ground, scream in his face that this would be a mistake. Rattle off all the reasons Bonnet was better off tied to an anchor, destined to rot under the waves. That he was not worthy of his captain’s presence. If there was a sliver of hope for forgiveness, Izzy wanted it mashed between his fingers.

Instead, he gave a curt nod as a reply, and with feet that felt like lead, he slowly made his way up to the deck.

Chapter Text

Stede wanted a new brush. After a week of nonstop scrubbing, his bristles were all but worn down. Maybe he could ask for another. Even a rag would be better.

When he heard footsteps, he assumed it was Izzy, back with more harsh words and spit. He didn’t even look up from the floor when the footsteps grew closer.

“Izzy, I know it may be quite unreasonable for me to make a request, but could I possibly get a new scrubbing brush?” Stede asked with a sigh. “Not making much of a dent with this old thing.”

“Oh, anything you for you, princess.”

That voice.

Terrified, Stede dropped his brush into the bucket of water with a soft plunk. Shakily, he lifted his head at an agonizing pace until he finally was eye to eye with the love of his life, the man he feared the most, the one who owned his heart and would most likely end his life.

Edward Teach towered above him, and he was smiling.

Stede knew he was in danger.

“C-captain Blackbeard.” Stede acknowledged him in a hollow voice. He rose to his feet and gave a salute. “H-how may I be at service?”

Now that just wouldn’t do. Edward hated everything about the way Stede stuttered, his utter subservience that wasn’t due to admiration. No, this was a man who was frightened. This was a man who was broken. This was a man that forgot what happiness tasted like.

Edward wanted to be the one who made him that way. He wanted to be there for all of it. After having to suffer in silence, unraveling in the company of a painted lighthouse, Edward wanted Stede to feel every bit of the pain that he felt and he should’ve had the fucking decency to wait to be miserable until Ed was ready to deal his blows. He wanted to see it. It was infuriating for him to have this crestfallen, kicked puppy demeanor. If anything, he should be fine. Perfectly content, aside from the cruel demotion of being a prisoner on his own ship. He was the one who decided Edward wasn’t good enough. He was the one who left him waiting for hours on a dock, the passage of time acting as nails in a coffin. A fleeting kiss and a hurried and rushed plan for a new life, it was enough for him. And Stede acted like it was enough for him too. But it became painfully apparent that their love was not worth its weight. Edward Teach died that day and the only remnant that survived the fallout was the Kraken.

“Are you acting like this because you’re scared I’m gonna kill you?” Edward asked, in a voice both equally genuine and threatening. He unsheathed his knife and threw it mere inches from Stede’s face, the blade barely missing his golden straw hair before becoming stuck in the wall behind him. He took his gun, pointed it at Stede’s pale face before moving to remove the bullets and dropping them on the floor. Clink, clink, clink.

Stede didn’t dare to flinch.

“There. You can drop the act now.” Edward said as he came closer, his face mere inches from Stede’s. “No more quivering, or s-s-stuttering, Stede Bonnet. Show me the real man, the one who decided it was a good fucking idea to cross Blackbeard.”

“This is me.” Stede said, swallowing nervously, his eyes searching for any sign of Ed left in the man before him. “And if you’d let me, I’d like to say that I’m sorry.”

Edward’s face hardened. “If you try and play me for a fool, I will gut you like a fucking fish.”

“Please,” Stede said, with a noticeable ache in his voice. “Please just let me talk. And when it’s all said and done and if you want nothing to do with me I’ll accept my fate, whatever it is. Left in indentured servitude, shot to death, skinned alive by Izzy. The works. Please just let me say what I’ve been dying to say for months. Please.”

Edward stared at him for a moment, then sagged against a wooden post. “Have it your way then, Bonnet. I’m all ears.”

Stede didn’t know where to begin. Things always make more sense when you start at the beginning, that’s what he was told to believe. He cleared his throat, took a deep breath, and looked at Edward in the eyes. “I grew up unloved by my family. I was considered meek and soft and I was an embarrassment for that. The only way I’d ever be loved was if I married into it. But my father told me only peasants married for love. I was betrothed to a woman named Mary because she had acreage. When I first looked at her, I felt nothing. She was a stranger to me. And she slowly became a friend, but that was the extent of it. Nothing more. Vacations couldn’t cure us. Children couldn’t salvage our union. I gave her a replica of this very ship as a token of love and she turned her nose up at it and with it, the idea of a life at sea. I knew then that we could never be more different. That my life needed to change.”

“I left my family one night with the intention of finding a crew and declaring myself captain of my ship, the Revenge. But becoming a pirate was the most idiotic thing I could’ve ever done. I should’ve died a thousand deaths by now. I had no idea of what to do! I still don’t even know how to properly sail for Christ’s sake! I’ve never been a leader, and my crew nearly mutinied after only a month of sailing with me. They sensed my inadequacies. Hell, our first meeting was after you rescued me from the brink of death. I’m sure you knew just by taking one look at me that I was a failure.”

Stede paused for a moment to assess Edward’s reaction. His face was unreadable. Albeit unnerving, he wasn’t visibly upset, and Stede took that as a sign to keep going.

“After that brush with death, I was completely disarmed by you, enamored with you, the rugged sailor who worked for Blackbeard, the most ruthless and fearsome pirate of the seven seas. I was terrified but also exhilarated when you told me who you really were. Training under you in the moonlight, escaping death with you, experiencing new things with you, I loved every minute of it. I admired you. I wanted to be you. I wanted to be around you more and more each day.”

“I think I fell in love with you after I found you in the tub. I had worked so hard to impress you with the tricks we pulled on those merchants. I bungled the whole think up, really, when I stop and think about it. I was the least scary part of that whole ordeal. I just wanted you to like me, and be proud of me. Having you open up to me and tell me about your past meant so much more to me. I truly met Ed that night. When I put my hand out to you, and you rested your head against it, that was it. That was the ticket. I loved you. I loved you so much. I wanted nothing more than the weight of you on me for the rest of my life. I just didn’t know it yet.”

Stede was still in the midst of his explanation. He had begun to pace back and forth and his words were coming out very quickly. Ed was hanging on to every last one of them and trying desperately to look unafffected.

“After we got caught by the English, you kissed me on that dock and asked me to run away with you. You told me to think of names and to get some rest, and that the guard would rouse me in two hours to come meet you. I woke up to the barrel of a gun in my face instead. Chauncey, the admiral, marched me down to some overgrowth and called me a plague. Told me I ruined everything I touched. I deserted my family. I murdered his brother. He said that I…I tarnished the greatest pirate that ever lived. I started crying, like the weak fool that I am. Flashes of my father who loathed me, my wife that resented me, and you, my greatest friend, flashed before my eyes. I realized I would only ever be a disappointment, and that I had been, to all of you. He tripped and shot himself before he could pull the trigger on me. But as far as I was concerned, I was a ghost, at least for a moment or two. I stood there, horrified, covered in blood, howling like a maniac. I was scared. Petrified. Two men had lost their lives simply because they had crossed paths with me and that was utterly devastating to me. I started to make my way to you, but his words echoed in my mind. I just couldn’t ask you to stop being Blackbeard for me. I fought with myself for what felt like hours. I wanted a life with you. I wanted a fucking life with you so badly. And part of me knew it was foolish because I envisioned a life of leisure with you. Swims in tropic seas, camping out on beaches, scones with apricot marmalade and champagne with dinner. The ocean spray on our faces and reading by candlelight. I wanted to give up piracy for you. And I would’ve. I would’ve given up everything for you. But I couldn’t ask you to do the same for me. It was too selfish. Too much to ask of you. You meant too much to the world to throw your legacy away for a weak-hearted, soft-handed, lily-livered little rich boy.”

At this point, Stede started to cry. Soft, hiccup like sobs that rendered him unable to speak. He collapsed onto his knees and held his face in his hands, letting out a few broken, garbled noises before regaining his composure enough to try speaking again. Edward was staring at him in an almost methodical, calculating way. Like he was trying to put together the last pieces of a very complex puzzle.

“I went back home. I tried to reclaim the life I left behind. My kids either didn’t recognize me or they hated me, and my wife was sleeping with someone else. Their lives were clearly much better without my presence. My portrait was cleanly and beautifully painted over in our family photographs. It was like I never existed. After a rough week or so, Mary and I had a meaningful conversation. She spoke of her love for her new man, and all the examples she gave of true love made me think of, well, you. Understanding idiosyncrasies, being exposed to new things, passing the time together easily, fuck Ed, just laughing. You make me laugh harder than anyone. I knew right then that I made a mistake by leaving you. I devised a plan that allowed me to come home to you with finality. I pulled off a fuckery that would’ve made you proud, I murdered the old version of Stede Bonnet that lived in that house, that town, that was tolerated by few and loved by none, and I came to the docks without a penny to my name and I sailed. I sailed and I sailed and I sailed and I prayed the ocean would bring me to you. I’m here now. And I know none of it matters. I know none of this exposition rights my wrongs. I know leaving you that day was unforgivable. I know that you can take the knife that’s jutting out from the wall now and slash my throat before I can finish my sentence if you truly wanted to. I just hope you know that I will always think you are the most beautiful fucking creature that ever walked this earth and roamed the seas. I love you Blackbeard. I love you Edward Teach. I love you more than anything in the world.”

The silence Stede received was deafening. Seconds felt like hours. Stede looked at Ed pleadingly for a response of any kind, as long as it was something. Finally, the older pirate dropped down to his knees in front of him. He lowered his head and whispered. “What if I told you that you didn’t make it on time? That the Ed you know is dead?”

“If there is no part of you left that loves me, I understand. But before you kill me, I hope it’s alright if I give you these.”

From his pocket, Stede produced two small leather booklets. He handed them over to Ed, who inspected them closely. He opened one of the books to find a name he didn’t recognize on a birth certificate that wasn’t familiar. The same with the second booklet. He looked at Stede for an explanation.

“Our names would’ve been Steve and Ted,” Stede said with quietly. “You would’ve been Steve, I would’ve been Ted. Thought it would be a funny, inside joke between the two of us. I used the last of my money to have those made for us.”

The certificate Edward had opened up in his hand was pristine. It was pristine up until the moment tear drops began to stain the paper. Ed tore his face from the pages and looked at Stede, who had the tiniest hint of a smile.

“You picked out names?” Ed asked, his voice hoarse and thick with emotion. He gripped the papers in his hand tightly. Tears were spilling and causing streaks in his face paint. The Kraken was beginning to look more and more like the man Stede loved.

“They are ours, if you still want them. I am yours, if you’ll still have me.” Stede replied.

Edward tossed the books aside and grabbed Stede’s face in his hands. He mashed his lips against Stede’s and held him there for a moment, only to break away just to kiss him again. And again. Stede’s arms wrapped around him and kept him close. Months of being apart and the relief that came with loving and being loved back meant that there were no small, tender kisses of love. These were passionate kisses, kisses that led to soft noises and nips on Stede’s bottom lip, touches that led to Stede tugging harshly on Edward’s hair to bring him closer.

Edward laid Stede down on the floor and climbed atop him. There were hushed admissions of love that were followed by fervent kisses. Clothes were removed so that they could splay their fingers across bare skin. It was warm, it was intimate, and it was pure. Things that Stede had done before mechanically were now performed with eagerness and intensity. It was new and exciting and at the same time, being together felt natural and right. Beads of sweat dripped down from their foreheads and soft moans echoed against the wooden walls. All that mattered was that they made each other feel good and that there was safety in being so intimate with each other. There was an unspoken reassurance that was reflected in physical ways, like the way Stede’s lower body was pinned down by the weight of Edward’s hips or when Edward’s hair was caught in a tight grip by Stede’s hands. It was like a promise, a promise that nothing could tear them apart from each other again. An hour trickled by in a hazy, blissful blur. Stede soon found himself completely naked, lying on his back with Ed alongside him, curled around him with his head buried in the crook of his neck.

“You cannot even begin to understand what the agony of losing you has been like,” Edward whispered as he planted kiss after kiss on Stede’s cheek. “I was lost. You came into my life and made me feel like I was more than Blackbeard and then all of that vanished in an instant.”

“Oh my darling,” Stede said, his voice laced with sadness as he cradled Ed closer, “I can’t even imagine the pain I’ve caused you. I will do everything in my power to make it right. I thought I wasn’t good enough for you. I didn’t want you to give up your life for me.”

“That’s not your decision to make.” Edward said. He took his discarded scarf and dabbed it into the bucket of water that had been abandoned for hours now. Slowly, he rubbed it along the skin under his eyes. Stede took it from his hands and washed the kohl from his chin, carefully rubbing the cloth in circles as the black stains faded away, leaving only stubble behind. He looked just like he did the day they first kissed, the only difference being the way sadness had aged him. Stede was determined to love him more than he had ever loved anything in his entire life. All of the trauma he had endured, all of the suffering was worth it because it culminated in this moment. It meant that he finally understood what love was, and how to nurture it and take care of it. It had taken all his life but it was worth it. Ed was worth the wait.

“I’m not Blackbeard anymore.” Edward said, breaking the silence. “I’m not the Kraken. I’m not even Edward, or Ed.”

“Are you…Steve?” Stede quipped.

“On paper I am, I suppose.” Edward replied. He took Stede’s hand and placed it on his cheek. He leaned his head into his palm and stared at him adoringly. “But I’m yours. Plain and simple.”

“Oh Ed, I love you.” Stede said, pressing his forehead to Edward’s. “I’ll never leave you again.”

“Did you come back to me?” Edward asked, closing his eyes as he leaned into the embrace of his love. Stede nodded. Edward smiled and kissed him again softly before opening his eyes and whispering,

“Then you never left.”

As for the fate of crew:

Oluwande and Jim retired to a small, relatively unknown settlement and worked on starting a life together. Jim still practiced their knife skills everyday, in case one day they needed to pick up where they left off in their quest for revenge. Oluwande was so beloved by the people of the neighboring town that he was asked to be the mayor. Their lives consisted of sleeping in, picking fruit, and pitching in around their town. Jim refused to acknowledge the fact that they had an obvious rapport with the local stray cats. Oluwande had noticed that their diet was consisting more and more of fish as of late, and there were times he had gone outside to find some of their dinner plates on the front porch, seemingly licked clean.

Mr. Buttons and the Swede decided to stick together. They became employed by a small fishing vessel. As it turns out, the Swede’s songs amplified the power of moon glow, at least according to Buttons.

Wee John and Frenchie opened up a small boutique in the heart of the Republic of Pirates. After sailing with the Gentleman Pirate, they made good money selling people on the importance of “aesthetics”. No pirate worth his salt nowadays sailed without quality pillows for his sitting nook. And if he didn’t know what a sitting nook was, he was a laughingstock. Most of the sailors pretended they knew what that was and bought at least eight to ten pillows.

Roach opened up a beachside eatery. It was pretty popular, all things considering. As long as no one asked where he got his ingredients from, everyone was happy. He also had a side practice in the back of his restaurant as an emergency surgeon. If you were desperate enough, you could pay him a visit. After all, knives are knives.

Black Pete requested to be dropped off at St. Augustine to rest. After a week of feasting on delicious oranges, drinking lots of rum, and relaxing under tropical sunshine, he was hellbent on finding a new captain to serve. While he was there, he made his way to the docks, and sure enough, when he squinted, there was a man in the distance selling maps with a red coat on, and his scarf was tied in a knot, suspiciously similar to a man he had not seen in ages…

Ivan and Fang remained under Izzy’s leadership. They felt more comfortable standing up for themselves and whenever they felt disrespected, they took an indefinite “hiatus” without telling their captain where they were going (it was usually somewhere where Fang could have some good seafood and Ivan could take a long nap on a soft, comfy bed). Afterwards, they would return to the ship and receive a larger cut of the next raid’s loot as compensation. Which was better than an apology, in their opinion.

Izzy Hands was named captain of the Revenge after Edward Teach and Stede Bonnet were legally declared dead. He sometimes ended his day looking out to sea, wishing that he and his former captain had died together in a blaze of glory, or that they had at least remained together in a working capacity, wreaking havoc and inspiring fear in those who dared cross their path. Although he was not cut out for a life filled with leisure and love and he would never understand the draw of it, he knew that Edward was content elsewhere, even if it wasn’t with him. It gnawed at him, but that feeling was ebbing away more and more each day. Blackbeard was cemented in history books, and it was time that Israel Hands earned his place as well. Hatred would be his driving force, as always. And if he needed motivation to be the most heinous, reprehensible person alive, the thought of a soft, giddy idiot with billowing blond hair in an outrageously colorful outfit was enough to darken his soul and make him more bloodthirsty than usual.

Edward Teach, better known as Blackbeard, and Stede Bonnet, who had come to be known as the Gentleman Pirate, were dead. Stede Bonnet suffered death multiple times over, what with being mauled by a jungle cat, run over by a horse drawn carriage and having a piano dropped on him before he had a chance to recover. Teach’s death was more shrouded in mystery, but his right hand man was seen sailing without him with a newfound sense of pure unadulterated fury, and that was enough for most people to assume Blackbeard was truly dead and gone.

Unbeknownst to most the world, two men commandeered a small, private vessel and docked it alongside a seaside town. Wearing floral robes and greeting the day with kisses, biscuits with cream and sugared tea, they were completely happy with their life at sea, bothering no one and being left to their own devices. Every now and again the ship would lift anchor and they would be off, sailing towards a new adventure that they would face hand in hand, together.