Work Text:
Stede was beginning to have second thoughts.
He and Ed were standing in his library going through Stede’s books and pointing out the inaccuracies of all the stories about Blackbeard and pirates in general. While Ed had been going on a particularly long rant about the details of his beard as depicted in the book, Stede had found himself paying less attention to Ed’s words and focused more on the ink on his skin.
“What?” Ed asked, noticing that Stede wasn’t listening. “You know my beard isn’t made of the hair I cut off of other dead pirates? That’d be disgusting. Also, how would it even stay? The second it got wet, there’d be hair all over the place. On my clothes? In my food. That’s gross.”
“Did those hurt badly?” Stede ignored his question and asked one of his own. His eyes traced the ink that looked like a serpent that swirled down his arm from under his shirt sleeve and disappeared into the leather glove covering most of his hand.
“These?” Ed held his arm out, “Not really. I’ve been stabbed worse.”
“Right.” Stede moved his hand to reach out and touch but stopped himself, feeling silly for presuming.
“You thinkin’ of gettin’ one?” Ed raised an eyebrow in question.
“Oh, no,” Stede said, flustered, and walked to sit on the small couch. “I could never.”
“Why not? You’re a pirate. Pirates get tattoos.”
Stede looked at him and the black ink that covered his arm and peeked out from the low collar of his shirt. Surely he could handle having one of his own. He was, indeed, a pirate. It may actually make people take him more seriously. By people, he means Izzy and the other pirates they’d encountered, of course, who refused to believe that he was a real pirate despite all the evidence in front of them.
“I could get Ivan in here if you want? He did the skull.” Ed moved closer and showed the inside of his arm.
“Yes, why not,” Stede said impulsively and slapped his hand on his knee to settle it.
Ed smiled at him and walked quickly to the door, and opened it to shout, “OI! GET IN HERE!”
Less than 10 seconds later, Frenchie and Lucius appeared.
“What can we do for you, Blackbeard, sir?” Frenchie asked while Lucius tried to peer over his shoulder to see what was happening inside the room.
“Tell Ivan to get in here. Quick. And bring his needles,” Ed ordered. Frenchie left the room right away, but Lucius stood there with wide, curious eyes.
The three of them were a mixture of sitting and standing in silence, which thankfully didn’t last longer than an awkward minute when there was a knock at the door. When Ed opened it, he saw Ivan holding a wooden box and waiting to be invited to enter the room.
“C’mon then?” Ed opened the door and motioned for him to come in.
“Another one for you already, boss?” Ivan asked as he sat down on the yellow chair, placed the box down on his lap, and opened it up.
“Not doin’ one for me.” Ed closed the door behind him.
“Sorry, what’s happening here?” Lucius finally spoke up.
“Are you Ivan?” Ed asked
“...No?” Lucius responded after a second.
“Then piss off with you.” Ed pointed at the door.
“It’s alright. He’s going to find out soon enough.” Stede waved his hand at him dramatically. Ed rolled his eyes but otherwise said nothing.
“You’re getting a tattoo?” Lucius asked incredulously.
“That’s right, Lucius. I’ve decided that as a real pirate, I should mark my skin in a way that shows our enemies that I am fearsome and I mean business,” Stede explained firmly.
“No, is that really what you’re doing?”
Ed moved to grab him by the shirt and pushed him out the door. Ivan sat quietly and looked back and forth between Stede and Ed, not sure what to do.
“Go on.” Ed pointed to Stede, and Ivan moved quickly to sit next to him on the couch.
“Do you know what you want?” Ivan asked.
“A tattoo, I think,” Stede said with a confidence that he did not feel.
“He means, what do you want him to draw on you,” Ed told him as he sat in the chair that Ivan had vacated.
“Oh, of course, how silly.” Stede shook his head and gave it some consideration. “Something menacing, I’d think.”
“Like a three-headed tiger!” Ed exclaimed.
“Or a cat,” Stede replied.
“A cat?” Ed and Ivan repeated.
“Yes. Ancient Egyptians believed that cats were magical creatures and guardians of the dead,” Stede explained.
“A tiger is a kind of a cat,” Ivan pointed out.
“Three heads, three times the magic,” Ed said as he snapped his fingers and pointed in agreement.
“Maybe, something a little less complicated for my first time. Maybe a skull that’s frowning and angry?” Stede suggested with a shrug.
“How can a skull frown? It ain’t got any skin?” Ivan asked and promptly shut up when Ed glared dangerously at him.
“Angry, frowning skull. You heard the man!” Ed ordered.
“One frowning, angry skull coming up. Where do you want it?”
Stede looked down at himself and considered that. He didn’t want it anywhere that was visible outside of his clothes, as that may be fairly distracting at a dinner party. Not that pirates had lots of dinner parties, but one should always be prepared for the possibility. So that took his neck, face, and hands out of the equation. He could have him do it on his chest, but then in order for other pirates to be intimidated by it, he’d have to have his chest exposed, which wasn’t ideal for battle situations.
“On my forearm, please.” Stede pulled his jacket off and pulled up his shirt sleeve, exposing the pale, unblemished skin of his right arm. He looked over at Ed, who was staring at Stede’s arm intensely. Probably just curious as to how it’ll turn out. Stede was curious himself.
“Alright.” Ivan pulled Stede’s arm to him and leaned down, and then spat on his skin.
“What in God’s name are you doing?” Stede stood up and pulled his arm away in disgust. He pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and scrubbed at the skin.
“Relax,” Ed said with amusement. “He’s just gonna wet it, so it’ll take.”
“Are you serious? That’s disgusting and not to mention completely unsanitary!” Stede cringed.
“That’s how it’s done, I’m afraid.”
“Well, if you don’t mind, I can wet my own skin. I have an entire jug of water just there.” Stede pointed at the jug on the table at the other end of the room.
“Gotta be saliva. Takes the ink better,” Ed responded.
“I’ll use my own then if you don’t mind.” Stede moved grumpily back to the couch and sat down heavily. He frowned, and with a look of reluctance and heavy disgust, he lifted his arm and spit daintily onto his skin.
“Gotta do better than that,” Ed told him, and Stede rolled his eyes and tried again. Satisfied, Ivan pulled his tools out of the box, and Stede looked away.
“I don’t think I can watch,” Stede said nervously.
“That’s fine. You want a book or something?” Ed asked, and Stede shook his head.
“I couldn’t possibly concentrate on the words.”
“Fair enough.” Ed nodded. “Keep your eyes on me, then.”
Stede looked at him in relief at having something to concentrate on. He sat frozen in anticipation, staring into Ed’s dark eyes until he heard a nervous exhale next to him.
“The more you tense up, the worse it’s gonna hurt,” Ivan warned him.
“Sorry,” Stede apologized and tried to relax. “Just nervous.”
Ed stood up and moved to sit on Stede’s left side. “Nothing to be nervous about. Just keep lookin’ at me, yeah?”
“Yes, alright.” Stede agreed.
“C’mon. Deep breaths.” Ed took in an exaggerated breath and waited for Stede to do the same. “Nice one. Now let it out all.” Stede let out a breath and waited. As soon as he felt the needle touch his skin, however...
“OUCH OUCH OUCH, OH GOD, OH GOD!” Stede shouted at the top of his lungs.
“What do you think he’s doing?” Roach asked as they listened to their Captain’s screams.
“I’d say a crow with six eyes,” Buttons suggested
“Maybe a three-tiered cake?” The Swede threw out.
“What’s so scary about a cake?” Wee John asked.
“The cake is poisoned,” The Swede responded, and the rest of the crew nodded with an “Oh!” of understanding.
“Don’t you all have work to be doing?” Izzy asked with disgust.
“Maybe something really scary, like a pirate,” Black Pete said as he and the rest of the crew refused to acknowledge the other man.
“Oh, hun. Why would a pirate get a tattoo of another pirate?” Lucius asked as he crinkled his nose at how stupid the idea of that would be.
“It could happen!” Black Pete shot back. There was another loud shriek, and they looked at the door in sympathy.
“Whatever he’s doing, it sounds brutal,” Oluwande said with a sympathetic shake of his head.
“Take it easy!” Ed said forcefully to Ivan, his free left hand, which was not currently holding Stede’s in a tight grip, went to the gun at his side.
“I didn’t even make a mark yet,” Ivan said frantically. Ed and Stede turned their heads and looked down, and sure enough, the skin was slightly wet and a bit red from where he started to push the needle in, but otherwise still pale and unmarked.
“Sorry, I think I may have overreacted,” Stede said apologetically.
“Nah. It’s a tough man's game. You’re doin’ alright.” Ed clapped his hand on Stede’s shoulder before quickly turning to glare at Ivan. “Get it over with already. And be gentle!”
“There really isn’t a way to jab ink into someone without it hurting,” Ivan said nervously, willing his hands not to shake from the pressure.
“Looks like you’re gonna try your best, though, aren’t you?” Ed said pointedly, and Ivan let out a breath and went back to work. He dipped the needle into the black color and pressed it deeper into Stede’s kin.
“Oh, Lord, that is possibly the worst pain I’ve ever felt.” Stede closed his eyes, his face an expression of agony.
“Hey, hey.” Ed put his hand on his cheek. “You’ve been stabbed twice. That had to have been way worse,” Ed reminded him. Stede went to open his mouth to respond but just let out another pained noise as Ivan pressed deeper into his skin.
Not knowing what else to do, Ed stared into Stede’s distressed and panicked eyes and felt his own chest tighten. As Stede’s eyes watered, Ed did the only thing he could think of and leaned in and pressed his lips to Stede’s.
Stede had let out a noise that could’ve been pain from the tattooing or pleasure from the kiss, but Ed couldn’t pull away just yet to find out. His lips were so soft and warm, and he wasn’t sure if this was the best or worst idea he’s ever had. When Stede started to kiss him back, he decided immediately that, yes, definitely the best.
When he pulled back a minute later, Stede was sitting with his eye closed, his body much more relaxed and loose. He slowly opened his eyes, and both men sat there staring at each other, not quite sure what to do or say. A small inhale caused Ed to freeze as he remembered that they weren’t alone.
“Got somethin’ to say?” He asked challengingly to Ivan, who held the needle still an inch above Stede’s skin.
“Nope. Nothing at all, boss.” Ivan shook his head frantically and looked back down at Stede’s arm.
“Is it done yet?” Stede winced.
“How long does it take to do a tattoo, honestly?” Lucius paced impatiently on the deck.
“Must be a real beauty,” French said, strumming the strings of his guitar.
They all continued to go back and forth for several more minutes, making wagers on what tattoo Stede could possibly be getting when the door finally opened.
Stede, Ed, and an absolutely haggard-looking Ivan came walking out onto the deck. The crew all moved closer excitedly and started talking at full volume over each other.
“What did you get?” “Is it a rat holding a knife?” “Is it a mermaid with horns and claws?”
“Alright, alright. Everyone settle down.” Stede held his arms up, and the crew quieted immediately. “I see that Lucius spilled the beans, so there’s no use in keeping it a secret.”
“I’m absolutely dying here. You have to show it to us,” Lucius interrupted and pretended not to see Izzy roll his eyes and mumble, ‘A bunch of ridiculous children’ under his breath.
Stede looked at them for a moment before saying, “Fine, if you must.” And pulled back his long sleeve covering his left arm to reveal his forearm.
The crew gathered around him and leaned over to look at his arm, and collectively their faces were filled with confusion.
“Where is it?” Wee John stared closer.
“It’s right there.” Stede pointed at his tattoo with a bit of embarrassment in his voice.
“That little back dot?” Black Pete asked.
“Nah. That looks like a wee freckle,” Buttons responded.
“No, no, Buttons. It’s a tattoo.” Stede’s face turned a bit red, and Ed had enough.
“When your Captain tells you he’s got a tattoo, then he’s got a tattoo,” Ed said firmly.
“Of course it is.” “Oh yeah.” “Sorry, Blackbeard.” Several of them talked over each other in fear of upsetting him further.
“It’s okay, Ed. You don’t have to,” Stede leaned over to whisper to him. Ed just shook his head and took Stede’s arm in his hands, and ran a finger gently over the small black dot of ink on Stede’s skin.
Lucius flung his hand out to grip Black Pete’s shirt, eyes wide and lip bitten, trying to keep the comment about sexual tension from escaping past his lips.
“It’s a cannonball,” Ed explained, still tracing the reddened area with his finger. “It only looks small because it’s fired off at an enemy ship. Means dangers on its way.”
Stede smiles at Ed in adoration, who doesn’t hesitate to wink back at him with a small smile. They both (not so subtly) lick their lips as they remember their kiss early. The look in their eyes is a promise to revisit this later when they’re alone. Lucius doesn’t faint when he sees this happen in front of his eyes, but it’s a close call later when Ivan admits what went down between them in Stede's room.