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It had started when Stede came home from his kidnapping.
The shadow tendrils that act at Ed's beck and call had always been fond of him, seemingly since the moment they met. They're always reaching out to him, even when Ed attempts to keep them in check. They have a mind of their own, and that mind appears to adore Stede. He doesn't mind, of course, welcoming their touch the same way he welcomes Ed's.
After the kidnapping, though, they almost seem to... listen to him. There'd been a moment, when Ed was wrapped up in his own fear and attempting to leave Stede for some ridiculous reason, when Stede had desperately wished for him to stay and the tendrils had turned against Ed, binding him in place until Stede could talk some sense into him. The moment had passed almost as soon as it had started, and later Stede would think that he was imagining things, that it was just the shadows acting of their own accord again, and the feeling that they had acted at his urging was pushed to the back of his mind.
But then it had happened again, little moments where he would will something to happen and the tendrils would just... oblige. Not because he'd made any gesture or breathed a word of what he wanted, but just because they seemed to know already. Little things, like lying in bed wishing for a cup of tea and a smoky tendril would unfurl from Ed's spine and put the kettle on, or wanting to feel Ed's eyes on him and suddenly a shadow is turning his chin in Stede's direction. Little things, but strange.
"Ed, darling," Stede says one evening, attempting to be casual. "Have you ever thought that maybe the shadows don't listen only to you?"
Ed's eyes are guileless as he looks up from his bowl of cereal, his favorite late-night snack. "What, like an arch nemesis? I mean, I've never met anyone else with this superpower, but it's a big fuckin' world. I guess it's possible, why?"
"No reason," Stede quickly demurs, because the words 'nemesis' and 'superpower' have put him back in his right mind. Of course the tendrils aren't actually acting at his command. He doesn't have any powers, he's just a librarian. He doesn't have a nemesis, except for the one extraordinary asshole who always dog-ears the books he borrows no matter how many free bookmarks Stede passive-aggressively gives him. This is just a case of a runaway imagination, that's all.
Still, maybe it's the romantic in him talking, but he has to try.
There's not really a guidebook for this sort of thing, figuring out if you might have influence over the shadows that live inside of your fiance's body, so Stede just does the best that he can. Quietly, of course. There's no need to let Ed in on his secret delusions. Luckily, Ed is so used to feeling the shadows twining around him and throughout the apartment that he doesn't even notice what they're doing most of the time. It makes it very convenient for Stede to conduct his experiments without Ed ever having so much as a clue what's happening.
He waits until Ed is engrossed in a TV show one afternoon, Stede on his laptop on the other sofa browsing for books to order for the YA section. The remote is laying on the coffee table, far enough from Ed that it would be strange for a shadow to reach it by accident. Stede stares at it, utterly focused, and thinks change the channel to 52. A random number, not anything that a loving tendril might coincidentally know he enjoyed. It would be absolutely insane if one were to reach out now and push those buttons.
And yet... as Stede watches, one little flicker of darkness slides from beneath Ed where he reclines and reaches out, grasping at the remote and sliding over the buttons, until the scene on the screen changes and Stede sees to his astonishment that channel 52 has been selected and there's now a rugby game on the television.
Holy. Fucking. Shit.
"What the hell?" Ed grouses, swatting at the shadow until it retreats. "Did you see that?"
"Um, yes?" squeaks Stede. "You didn't-- you didn't tell it to do that, did you?"
"Fuck no, it was just about to get to the final rose ceremony." Ed leans over and grabs the remote in his hand, like he doesn't trust his tendrils to behave themselves right now. "Shit, I'll have to go out patrolling tonight, the little bastards are having temper tantrums now from lack of exercise. Seriously, don't you guys understand the concept of vacation?"
Stede doesn't answer as Ed changes the channel back and gets lost in the drama once again, mostly because he's busy keeping his breathing steady in spite of his pounding heart. Somehow it's true, then. For some insane, unfathomable reason, the tendrils respond to his commands. Ed's tendrils. Respond to Stede's commands.
He tries it more over the coming days, silently sending telepathic instructions to the tendrils to do little nonsense things when Ed isn't paying attention. Each time, it gets a little easier. He has to concentrate a little less, and the shadows are a little quicker to obey. He discovers that it takes more focus to coordinate more than one at a time, but it's possible. He discovers that it's a fifty-fifty shot if it will work at all, if Ed is actively commanding them to do something else. Whenever he tries that, he can see them flicker and shudder beneath his gaze, like they're unsure of what to do, and then one command or the other will take over and they'll shoot off like a rocket to complete their task. Stede almost feels bad for forcing them to pick a side, as absolutely wild as that is to consider.
Ed thinks he's going crazy, or else the shadows are. "Have you noticed my shadows have been a little... rebellious, lately?" he asks Stede at one point, watching one of them flipping through the pages of an abandoned book on the kitchen counter. Stede freezes, and the tendril freezes, and Ed just narrows his eyes at the appendage in question. "Little fuckers have always had a mind of their own, but now they're just doing weird shit. Maybe I should take them to a doctor. A vet? An octopus specialist, maybe. Hey Siri, where's the nearest aquarium?"
The tendril that Stede had been playing with picks up a glass of water and promptly dumps it on Ed's head, and at least Stede can have a clear conscience knowing that he hadn't made it do that.
He should tell Ed, he knows. There's no longer any doubt about it, even if Stede has yet to come up with a reasonable explanation, and it feels a little improper to be continuing to do things with shadows that are kind of part of Ed's body without Ed's knowledge or his explicit consent. He just doesn't know how to start that conversation, is all. Hello darling, just as a note, you know that superpower that you have where those shadows that live inside your body follow your every command? Well apparently they follow mine, too. Just thought you ought to know!
In the end, Stede decides to soften the blow with Ed's favorite activity: having sex with Stede. Ever since that first time, the shadows had become an integral part of their sex life. Neither one of them was complaining about all of the experimentation that had taken place in figuring out exactly where and how those tentacles could be used in an intimate capacity. The first time that a tendril had fingered Stede open was one of his dearest memories --no true physical form meant no friction, and wasn't that fascinating?-- and Ed certainly wasn't complaining about all the unique positions they could have at each other in thanks to the unshakeable strength and flexibility of the shadows holding them in place. After all, how many people could say that they'd had sex on the ceiling? At least two people, but probably not many more.
Ed and his tendrils are up to no good now, one sliver of shadow having crept up the hem of Stede's trousers underneath the table at the restaurant they're having dinner at and slid up Stede's thigh until it's wrapped around Stede's cock inside of his clothes. "Ed," Stede hisses warningly, trying to ignore the way that the warm embrace of shadow around his length feels an awful lot like the caress of a mouth. "We are in public, be decent."
"What?" Ed flutters his eyelashes a little too innocently, and Stede knows that this isn't a shadow acting of its own accord. This is Ed toying with him just because he loves seeing Stede squirm. "No one can see anything. That seems decent."
"They can see me," Stede whispers back, and he can already tell from the warmth of his face and neck that he's definitely not decent. He has to shove another mouthful of food past his lips to stifle a moan, because the tip of the tendril is playing with the tip of his cock, and it about makes him faceplant into his plate when the sensation makes him double over.
Another tendril goes up Stede's other trouser leg, this one to wrap around Stede's balls and give a playful tug. "Do you really want me to stop?" Ed says smugly as Stede gulps down half of his glass of water. "Because you don't seem like you hate it."
He'd stop if Stede genuinely told him to, Stede knows, but he's having trouble remembering why he would ever ask for such a thing as the tendrils work him over inside of his clothes. He shakes his head jerkily, letting his eyes close so that he can revel in the ghostly touches a little better. Ed knows his body too well by now, knows exactly how to play Stede like a fiddle, and if anyone is looking, it no doubt shows. Stede's breathing is coming in unsteady gasps, his hands clutching at the edge of the table with a white-knuckled grip, and his mouth keeps forming silent words that might burst into begging at the slightest provocation.
"Uh, is everything okay over here? Sir?"
Stede's eyes fly open and he sees their waiter, Lucius, standing by the table with eyebrows raised. Far from halting his attack now that they're being observed, Ed doubles down, working Stede over even faster inside his clothes. "Everything's fine," Stede answers, higher-pitched than normal, forcing a smile that he hopes is convincing onto his face. "So sorry, just-- food's a little spicy," he chokes out.
"Your... house salad with Italian dressing on the side is spicy?" Lucius asks slowly.
A third tendril joins the action. "Ah, yes, I have a rather --fuck!-- delicate, uh, palate," Stede gasps desperately as his perineum is firmly pressed.
He's close to losing it, right on the edge, as Lucius nods slowly a few times. "Right, I'll bring you some more water. Might I recommend some dessert? Maybe a brownie with some ice cream to cool you down?"
Stede opens his mouth to decline, but just then tendril number --fuck, he's lost count-- teases into his hole just a smidge and it's all over. One knee jerks up and bangs against the underside of the table, and Stede has just enough time to hide his face in his hands before he whimpers, "Ed!" and comes in his pants.
Ed sounds just as cool and casual as ever as he answers, "What's that love? You want me to decide? Fuck it, let's do it. Thanks Lucius."
"Riiiight, I'll put that order in for you right away," Lucius says warily. Stede hears his footsteps retreating past the pounding of his own heartbeat in his ears, and looks up from his hiding place behind clammy fingers to glare at Ed.
"What?" Ed says, smiling like butter wouldn't melt on his tongue. "I thought you liked chocolate."
"Almost as much as I like not having to hide my crotch when I walk out of restaurants because I've come in my pants and there's a rather obvious wet spot," Stede whispers furiously, though a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth ruins the scolding. "Really, Edward? Right in front of the waiter?"
Ed withdraws his shadows from Stede's body, still grinning. "Sorry, not sorry. You'll get your revenge on me eventually, I don't fuckin' doubt it."
And Stede does, after they've gone home and Stede has stripped out of his ruined clothes. He has Ed backed up against the counter in the kitchen, hand shoved down his pants, and Ed's eyes are already looking a little desperate and glazed. "Can't believe you did that to me," pouts Stede as he gives Ed's balls a gentle tug just to hear him whimper. "Using your tendrils on me in public! Who ever heard of such a thing? That's playing dirty, Edward Teach."
Ed licks his lips, looking insufferably smug. "Ooh, such jealousy. You're green with it, love. Admit it, you're just mad because you can't pull the same trick."
If Stede has been waiting for a sign of when the right moment is to talk to Ed about his recent discoveries, he doesn't think there's anything that could be quite clearer than this one. He takes a deep breath, heart suddenly pounding for entirely non-sexual reasons. "And... what if I could?"
"Hmm?" Ed's eyes drift closed in distraction, grinding his hips forward so his cock ruts against Stede's forearm. His hands are sliding up Stede's shirt to play at his chest. "What's that, love?"
"I said... what if I could?"
Stede concentrates for a moment and summons a few of Ed's tendrils to wrap around Ed's wrists, forming manacles around them. The shadows drag Ed's hands free of Stede's body and tug them behind Ed's back, pinning them there. Stede watches Ed's face carefully as his expression shifts from lust to confusion and then to downright disbelief. "What the-- how the-- dickfuck, you're not serious! Are you really--?"
"I noticed that sometimes they seemed to do things that I wanted," Stede says nervously, "so I started experimenting a bit to see if I could make it happen on purpose, and... well, as it turns out, I can." He pauses for a moment, and when Ed gives no response whatsoever, ventures, "You're not terribly angry with me, are you?"
Ed opens and shuts his mouth a few times before managing to get out the words, "Mate, I've never been so fucking aroused in my whole life, what the fuck."
He lunges forward to smash his mouth into Stede's, then, his hands still bound by shadows. Stede laughs into it, a sound of joy and relief, then summons more tentacles to grab Ed by the shoulders and manhandle him until his back slams into the refrigerator and his wrists are pinned by the sides of his head. "Is this okay?" he still asks, just in case.
"This is so hot my fuckin' eyeballs are gonna explode," Ed consents, and Stede doesn't stop to doubt himself again.
He pulls Ed's pants down around his knees and then goes to sink to his own, using a few more shadows like knee pads to cushion the impact of his not-as-spry-as-they-used-to-be joints upon the tile. "I was worried you'd feel like it was a violation," Stede confesses as he nuzzles Ed's hard cock, kissing at the base. "I didn't want to upset you. I know they're not technically part of your body, but they kind of are, and--"
"Stede fucking Bonnet, you can play with my body however the fuck you want to," Ed groans. He attempts to thrust his hips forward to get more friction, but Stede has the shadows pin his hips in place. "Fucking Christ on a bike. This is a kink I didn't know I had."
Stede, too, is discovering things about himself tonight. Like the fact that apparently he likes it very, very much to take control of Ed's pleasure this way and keep him right where Stede wants him as a tendril slips between Ed's legs and starts opening him up. Ed is writhing and wriggling above him, torn between the sensation of Stede sucking at his tip and the shadows beginning to fuck him, but he can't go anywhere. He just has to stand there and take it, completely at Stede's mercy, and fuck is that a heady thing.
It isn't long before Ed is getting properly fucked, the shadows' forceful thrusts marked by the way that Ed's body is being pushed into the fridge in steady rhythm, magnets falling off here and there as the appliance shakes and so does Ed. Stede pulls off of Ed's cock when he sees tears start to stream down Ed's cheeks and get lost in his beard. "Love? Are you alright?"
"I'm so fucking good," Ed chokes out. "Fuck, I can feel it from both sides. It's like fucking and being fucked at the same time. But also having my dick sucked. Holy shit, Stede, I-- fuuuuuck!"
He's absolutely wailing by the end, and in a burst of panic about the noise complaints they're about to get from their neighbors, Stede sends one final tendril to Ed's mouth, sliding in to flatten his tongue in a gag. That's apparently the last straw, and Stede barely gets his mouth back on Ed's cock in time enough to catch his cum as he spills into Stede's throat.
He withdraws the tendrils from Ed's body one by one as Ed starts to come down from his high, letting them help him back to his feet. One shadow comes to dab delicately at the corner of Stede's mouth, wiping away a little dribble of cum that had escaped him. Now fully freed, Ed takes Stede's face in both hands and kisses him, long and desperate. "I can't tell if this is just the orgasm talking, but I wanna marry you so hard right now. Stede, you can control my shadows. Dick fuck that's some soulmate level shit right there. Slap a white dress on me and send me down the aisle."
Stede pulls Ed close to him with his own two arms, smiling into their kiss. "Might just have to do that."
.....................
Now that the secret is out, Stede is walking on sunshine. He hadn't realized how heavy it was weighing on his heart, to have something unfamiliar happening to his body –er, Ed’s body?—that he didn’t understand and have no one to talk it through with. It’s only with the clarity of hindsight that he realizes of course he should have just told Ed right away. Ed has loved every part of him that Stede has ever introduced him to, why should this be any different?
Ed’s out on patrol tonight, busy being a hero, and Stede has just finished closing the library for the night. He’s picked up some takeout and is whistling to himself as he walks through the city streets, heading for the location Ed had texted him so that he can bring his lover some dinner. Apparently he’s been busy watching over a little fall festival that’s been going on in the park all weekend, which has attracted a number of petty criminals looking to pick pockets and mug vendors. It makes Stede’s heart warm, to imagine Ed lurking in the shadows, ready to defend the innocent even while knowing that he’ll probably receive more hate for his methods than gratitude for his heroism. That’s the mark of a good heart, there.
Strolling through the festival, Stede stops to appreciate the kitschy sort of charm to it. This is exactly the kind of thing Stede loves: moments when the big bad city slows down, just a bit, and enjoys the time it has in such a season of community. There are carnival games and food trucks, little merchant booths with handmade autumnal items that Stede will absolutely be hitting up on his way out. There’s even a giant scarecrow thirty feet tall at the center, its tethers decorated with string lights, and Stede smiles up at it as he passes by on his way to the parking area where Ed is currently keeping an eye out for trouble.
It's only because Stede is looking around with such wide-eyed delight that he sees the tragedy in progress. As if in slow motion, he watches a distracted citizen trip over one of the pegs tethering the giant scarecrow to the dirt. More than likely it wouldn’t have been an issue at all, if the wind whipping through the skyscrapers surrounding the park hadn’t chosen that moment to give a particularly forceful gust, leaning the scarecrow forward a bit where it’s suddenly less bound than before. The tension pulls another peg free, then another, and another, and Stede watches as the whole thing starts to topple.
His eyes flicker from the falling decoration to the area before it, a petting zoo filled with baby animals and delighted children, their parents too busy taking photos of their sweet faces and sticky hands to notice the imminent danger. Stede can chart the path of the falling scarecrow, can see that in a matter of seconds the elaborate wooden construction will come slamming down on the pen. At best, people will be hurt. At worst…
Despair rushes through Stede as he opens his mouth to call out, even as he knows that it won’t help. There’s no time, it’s too late, he’s going to stand here and watch this disaster befall the unsuspecting people and animals below. If only there was something he could do, some way he could save them, some power he possessed to keep them safe—
That’s when Stede feels his spine split open with a cracking noise that rattles his teeth and the world around him explodes into chaos.
Stede stumbles as tendrils erupt from his body, shooting out to wrap themselves around the collapsing figure above, forming new tethers where the old had fallen away. They’re not quite shadows, not like Ed’s, more of an ashy gray than Ed’s pure onyx. Like the fog that rolls in off of the sea on cool mornings. They’re equally strong, however, holding fast even as Stede feels them straining against the massive weight. He can feel everything they feel, in fact—the rough wood and straw, the croaking and splintering of the structure, the little spots of cool metal where nails and screws bind it together. He feels it all as clearly as if it were his own two hands holding desperately onto it, instead of… whatever this is. Whatever he is.
For a moment Stede is terrified that he won’t be able to hold it. The misty gray tendrils strain against the momentum of the falling weight, the angle not quite right to hold it back, and Stede once again opens his mouth to shout a warning. The people have noticed the danger by now, and screaming fills the air as people scramble to get clear. Sweat beads at Stede’s temples, his breathing heavy. Any second now, he’s going to lose his grip, and it will all have been for nothing.
But then ribbons of darkness shoot out from the opposite side of the little clearing, joining Stede’s efforts, and Stede looks through the rushing of panicked civilians to see Ed opposite him, mouth popped open in a little ‘o’ of surprise. Stede knows the feeling well, but he can’t afford to dwell on his own internal screaming at the moment. He focuses instead on working with Ed to change the direction of the scarecrow’s fall, tilting it so that it comes to rest, groaning and splintering, on an empty patch of dirt instead of on some innocent baby goat. As soon as the scarecrow’s weight is off of Stede’s tendrils, he feels them start to retreat back into him, coiling back into his spine, and his body sags with relief.
He catches sight of Ed stalking toward him, expression unreadable, just before Stede is swarmed by grateful citizens. Some of them are crying, some of them are hugging him, some of them are shaking his hand and offering their undying gratitude to this new hero for saving their lives. “Really, it was nothing,” Stede demurs, face flushed, a little abashed. “It was just instinct. I only did what any man would do.”
“You’re like Blackbeard!” a little girl is saying excitedly, bouncing on the balls of her feet. “You match! Now I have two favorites!”
“I suppose we do match,” Stede says with a dawning grin. “I assure you, he’s the real hero. I’m just following in his footsteps.”
Right on cue, Blackbeard makes his appearance. “Would you—get the fuck out of my way,” Ed’s voice comes from the back of the crowd, and then he’s standing before Stede, shouldering people aside as he goes. They don’t even seem to mind his gruff manner, accosting him with thanks and praise the same way they had done to Stede. He ignores them in a way that would make Izzy cry, his eyes locked on Stede, stalking close enough that he can speak in a quiet murmur for Stede’s ears only. “We should leave. Now,” he says bluntly.
Stede’s smile falls a little. “Oh. Will the authorities be quite angry, now that there’s another tendrilled menace loose on the streets of Seaside?”
“Nah,” Ed says quickly, then pauses. “Well, maybe. But not as mad as they’re about to be if I start sucking your dick in the middle of this family friendly event.”
Stede lets out a peal of laughter and then flexes some muscle or perhaps some part of his brain so that a little wisp of sea fog emerges from him once more, cradling the back of Ed’s neck to pull him in for a kiss, right there in front of everyone.
The world may never accept or understand the two of them, because they’re different and they’re powerful and therefore they’re scary, too, but it doesn’t matter. Even if it’s the two of them against the world, Stede is ready. Standing at Ed’s side, he can take on the world and save it, too.