#silverflintham | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

saintvainglorious · 3 months

Text

10 Best Black Sails Fics I Read in 2023

In honor of Black Sails' 10th anniversary, here's a list of my top 10 favorite Black Sails fics I read in 2023, in order from shortest to longest. Most Black Sails fic rec posts I've seen are now around 2 or 3 years old (though not all, bless @jaynovz and your #jay's esoteric rec lists tag) so nearly half of the recs in this list spotlight newer fics. It's amazing to see fantastic fics still being written and updated years after the show ended - y'all are keeping this fandom alive!

I didn't read that much Black Sails fic this year, comparatively speaking, so I'm sure there's plenty of newer gems that I missed. All the fics in this rec list are Silverflint unless otherwise stated.

1 - Gone To Port Royal by Apetslife (G, 3k) - a delightful oneshot from Gates' POV where they all go to a pirate afterlife. every scene is perfect. endlessly re-readable and never fails to make me smile.

Definition of Valhalla 1: the great hall in Norse mythology where heroes slain in battle are received 2 : a place of honor, glory, or happiness: heaven

2 - i’ll be seeing you by youatemytailor/@annevbonny (NR, 19k) - this is THEE post-canon Silverflint reunion fic. the anguish, the rage, the quiet jokes, the tenderness, it's all devastatingly in-character. particularly the chapter 5 climactic unspooling leaves me in awe upon every reread.

Silver is out of his chair and across the room before he knows it. He has a grip on the barkeep’s shirt before he knows it, and he’s pulling him up, hauling him eye-level, only to head-butt him to the ground again. The barkeep’s mouth is thrown open in a wail, but there’s no sound, Silver thinks, no sound at all, save for the blood rushing in his ears as he looks at the other man on the ground, watches him roll to his side with a groan. Flint, Silver thinks, and nothing else. It beats around the knife in his gut like a drum. Flint. And then Flint is looking at him.

3 - The Dark Lord Proprietor by Amiril/@runawaymarbles (M, 19k, Silverflintham) - a fuckin hysterical supervillain AU. Thomas has amnesia, Flint is pining, Silver tries to get them back together. what could go wrong? could not stop cackling.

A year ago, James Flint was in a stable relationship and was within spitting distance of taking over London. Now he’s single, with a dubiously loyal henchman, a lairmate determined to learn his every weakness, and a Secret Past with the new supervillain on the scene. And thanks to a new government program, it’s all a race to the bottom.

4 - the cross dimensional nassau bar of getting izzy hands laid by FortinbrasFTW/@fortinbrasftw (E, 19k ~WIP~, Flint/OFMD Izzy Hands) - a Black Sails OFMD Flint/Izzy Hands crossover. the very best kind of smut-as-character study. funny, gripping, and endlessly re-readable.

The first thing Izzy realizes is he looks absolutely fucking furious — which yeah, alright, fair enough. He’s got shorter ginger hair. A beard like Izzy’s but kept neater. Earrings like Izzy’s but worn simpler. Bleeding like Izzy but, well, maybe a bit less. And he’s handsome. Izzy realizes it suddenly and slowly somehow all at once. Bit like a bloody painting even. The kind you saw up on walls in rich folk’s houses. Only, well, no painting had eyes like that, did it? You’d have to be mad to keep a painting with eyes like that in your home. They were bright and clear and looked — honest-to-fucking-Christ — ready to set the whole damned world on fire. Izzy's terrible, horrible, no good, very bad night takes an interesting turn thanks to a completely different sort of pirate captain.

5 - frail and fragile bars by Ajaxthegreat/@francisthegreat (E, 21k) - Silver realizes, post-shark date, that he's in love with Flint. an instant, iconic fave fic. SO many delicious scenes and quotes that live rent free in my head. just read it, you won't regret it.

“I think you fuck,” Silver says. By which he means, with great intent: I think you are human. I know you are human. I see you.

6 - the whole estate of mortal man by Amiril/@runawaymarbles (T, 43k) - Creature Silver AU where he'll grant wishes in exchange for souls. first read this fic in 2020 and cried. reread it this year and cried again. the nature of the AU intersects so cleverly with Black Sails' themes, and the end result is devastating.

Silver has a limited memory, an unlimited lifespan, and a need for human souls. He spends months trying to buy Flint’s.

7 - our feast is but beginning by x_etoile_x/@etoilesombre (E, 55k) - Flint teaches season 1 Silver how to cook. they're definitely not dating. no, really. this writer writes dialogue so in-character that it cuts like a knife. features sensual cooking, Flint being a queer mentor for Silver, fun genderfuckery, and Them Being Real Tender.

Flint should walk away. Silver can figure out how to feed the men, it isn’t his problem. But roasting a pig is so easy, and when was the last time he had a hand in creating something rather than destroying it? Anyway, what else is he doing, with Billy taking the crew in hand with such annoying competency? He absolutely does not think about why he is reluctant for this interaction with Silver to end. “Go get another pig,” he says before he can reconsider. “Do exactly as I say.”

8 - With Strange Aeons by Amiril/@runawaymarbles (M, 60k, Silverflint + Flinthamilton + Jackanne) - Came for the Silverflint, stayed for the Silverflint but also for holy fuck Jack and Anne are sent to Savannah and break out of there with Thomas to battle literal Cthulhu. How can you NOT read this. I don't typically read Flinthamilton, but by god Thomas is amazing in this.

After the disappearance and presumed death of Captain Flint and Long John Silver, Max smuggles Jack and Anne to Oglethorpe’s plantation. Thomas learns that not only do the three of them have a friend in common, but he is not the only one whose dreams are haunted by a strange city and a terrifying name. Meanwhile, Flint and Silver try to escape an island trapped in time, impossibly built and impossibly old. Along the way they’re forced question reality, each other, and themselves. And in his house in R’lyeh, dead Cthulhu waits dreaming.

9 - The Salt and the Sea by x_etoile_x/@etoilesombre (E, 60k) - a between season 2 and 3 recovery fic. i still remembered months after reading that chapter 4 in particular left me undone. a harrowing journey into the ruins of post-leg loss Silver's mind, plus exquisite hurt/comfort.

John Silver was always able to make the best of a situation. If this particular situation had started to feel complicated, well, a vast fortune ought to prove clarifying. Whatever he might have imagined he’d seen in Flint, the reality was they had used each other. And he had been set to walk away on top. Except now he couldn’t. Now he was trapped.

10 - the straight walk home by vowelinthug/@vowel-in-thug (E, 73k, Silverflint + Jackanne + Maxanne + Billy/Vane) - A western AU and one of the best long fics in the fandom. Excellent comedy, amazing AU twists on our favorite characters, found family vibes, nail-biting action, and a fucking fantastic climax. Also, I can't believe this fic got me invested in Billy/Vane.

Let me tell you a story, about a vaquero named Vasquez...

#black sails #black sails fic recs #silverflint #fanfiction #fic recs #bsanniversary #10yearsblacksails #10bsfest

129 notes · View notes

blacksailskmeme · 12 days

Text

Black Sails Kink Meme 2024 Round Up: March

Hello piratefam!

We've had an exceptionally prolific kickoff month for the event: over 100 prompts and twelve delicious fills already for March!! Wow!! :D :D Thank you all so very much for diving into the splash zone of raunchy smut with such enthusiasm!

I've decided to do a round up post for each month the kink meme is live, showcasing those fills submitted to the collection monthly. So here ya go, all the fics submitted in March gathered in one place for your convenience and enjoyment! 😌✨

In The Space Between, SilverFlintHam, 2470 words

(For Prompt #13. "Thomas and Flint spitroast Silver. Modern AU. Bonus points for Silver begging like a cheap whore and Thomas being the practical one after, while Flint just wants to cuddle in his papa-bear, protective mode.")

And I could close the curtain but this is too much fun, MadiSilverFlint, 1260 words

(For prompt #37 - Flint/Madi, Silver - voyeurism, jealousy. Silver catches them fucking)

shifting sands, Maxanor, 1812 words

(For Prompt 29: s3/4 or therebouts, Eleanor goes on her knees for Max and eats her out in That Fucking Chair)

Of Poets and Writers, SilverFlint, 8758 words

(For prompt #31. SilverFlint mod AU. Silver is a poet, shopping at a bookstore and overhears a book reading/author signing. He’s drawn in by THE VOICE and heads over to the event only to be instantly in lust with Flint, reading from his debut novel. He listens, then grabs a copy of Flint’s book and one of his own poetry collections off the shelf and purchases them, borrowing a pen from the bookseller. He hops in line for the signing and while he waits, he writes something extremely filthy on the dedication page of his collection, complete with his phone number. He exchanges books with Flint, who looks bemused, but doesn’t read the inscription immediately. He HAD, however, noticed the gorgeous man in the back of the small crowd with the pre-Raphaelite curls and Caribbean blue eyes. He signs Silver’s copy and thanks him for coming. Silver watches him for a few more minutes and then grabs a coffee before heading for the door. Before he reaches it, he gets a text from Flint, who’s finally opened the volume of poetry. They head to Flint’s hotel and he proceeds to just absolutely take Silver apart and then surprising Silver by bottoming. Rimming, topping from the bottom, dirty talk, just very vocal enjoyment from two men incredibly good with words.)

When I said I'll return to you, I meant more like a relapse, Maxanor, 3023 words

(For prompt #22: Maxanor, post break up, nasty hatefuck with your ex over That Fucking Chair. Bonus if s3 or s4, extra bonus if there's a strap and Max makes Eleanor beg for it bent over the desk, extra extra bonus if Eleanor cries)

Indulgence, SilverFlint, 2306 words

(Prompt #20: Silver, canon era, being completely HOT about Flint's belly (circa season 4) when they're alone. Hotness ensues (kissing, licking, sucking, slobbering, coming all over it, completely unhinged LUST). Bonus points if Filnt's a bit shy about it)

Pressure, SilverFlint, 4504 words

(prompt # 57: Silverflint, piss kink/omorashi - Flint REALLY needs to piss during a long ass meeting, Silver notices, stays behind after everyone else finally leaves and drags it out as long as he can by asking nonsensical questions. Eventually Flint is pushed to breaking point and Silver takes over 😈 bonus points for imagery of Flint standing white knuckled gripping the back of his chair, (unsuccessfully) trying to hide his discomfort from Silver 😌)

Relief, SilverFlint, 4708 words

Breaking The Girl (heart of stone, mind of gold, your tongue is made of sword), Flint/Eleanor, 10,723 words

(For PROMPT #61: Pre canon, a younger Eleanor has a crush on the New Captain on the Block (Flint) who appears as if by magic to fill the power vacuum left by Captain Teach after she and Vane oust him. Eleanor's relationship with Vane is on the rocks not too long after as she continues to nurse her secret illicit infatuation for Captain Flint, who she champions on the island to help him consolidate power. She flirts drunkenly with Flint, until one night she just throws herself at him. He's trying to be so gracious, the crush is very one-sided, but he tries to help her through it sweetly, but she's not having it. She wants it rough and dirty.

I wanna see Weird Dynamics, part mentor-mentee part father-daughter part daddy kink part huge crush on a professor vibes. I want Flint to keep trying to slow her down and be sweet and Eleanor fighting him the whole way. Toxic weirdness and big age difference, thank you very much!!)

New Horizons In The Dark, Flint/Maroon Queen, 4405 words

(For prompt #58: S3 or S4, Flint trying to jerk off in his appointed quarters on Maroon Island and the Queen walks in on him unannounced to summon him to a meeting, he is MORTIFIED, but then she stands there and orders him to continue as she watches

And she says he better do a good job so that he can actually pay attention to their strategy meeting

So basically the Queen orders him to come hard

And she'll scold him for being distracted and that he needs to take care of himself more often, and that if he has trouble or waits too long her door is always open 👀👀👀

Bonus if somewhere in here, maybe after, they talk about/bond over having both lost spouses and that it's a lonely life and there's no sense in being so lonely)

To Be Underestimated is an Incredible Gift, Miranda/Rackham, 4655 words

(For the prompt #78: Miranda Barlow/Jack Rackham, yep, that's the main pairing. pre-canon era, Miranda lives AU, who knows? your choice! you can bring Anne in, and/or Flint, if you want. bonus points for kinkiness.)

As a Boy, Admiral Hennessey/James McGraw, 5126 words

(For prompt #24: Pre-canon, midshipman James McGraw is caned/flogged as a disciplinary measure by his superiors and enjoys it. Bonus if he's A Lot Younger. Could be Admiral Hennessy, could be unnamed rando)

Thanks again to all our March contributors, y'all have truly knocked it out of the park!! Here's to more unapologetically smutty, kinky fills for April 🥳🥳

#2024bskmemefills #2024bskmeme #black sails #black sails event #announcements #long post #2024bskmemeroundups

40 notes · View notes

calamitys-child · 9 months

Text

Every so often I pick back up this story concept I've been rotating about an ex military socialist community organiser who has to solve a murder related to the disgraced son of a wealthy family with the help of the weird yet charming con artist who keeps getting put on community service with him and then I remember that's just silverflintham again and have to put it down til I stop laughing about it

#theyre Compelling Archetypes!!!!!!!

13 notes · View notes

lichfucker · 5 months

Text

Twenty questions for fic writers

tagged by @bisexualshakespeare !! ty archer 🫀

guess I'll tag @jaynovz @asterofthevoid and @grasslandgirl

this is gonna get long so I am just putting it under a readmore from the jump lmao

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

ten if you include music. eight if you don't

2. What’s your total AO3 word count?

103,601

3. What fandoms do you write for?

black sails, community, the fetch phillips archives, and ted lasso. I used to have a cr fic too but I orphaned it bc uhh fuck that noise. on my old account in high school I wrote for community, homestuck, dangan ronpa, and hp :/ but we don't talk abt that account lmao

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Sanguine - Ted Lasso, Trent/Ted, M - my vampire!trent au! g-d I still adore this fic in my bones. not surprised at all that it's my most popular by a wide margin; this is the biggest fandom I've written for, and I wrote it at the peak of the show's popularity. I'd like to believe it's worth the hype lmao

Five Girls Annie Almost Kissed and One She Did - Community, Annie/Annie Kim, T - canon-compliant lesbian!annie thesis. an exploration of annie's romantic life from adolescence through season three with a LOT of autobiographical projection lmao. I looked back at my own life and thought, "yeah, that happened to annie too" dflsdf this fic will always be precious to me

Crawl 'Til Dawn - Community, Annie/Britta, M - oh, look, another vampire au! well. this one came first. this is the oldest fic on my account-- I wrote the first seven chapters in the fall of 2016, posted them in early 2017, and then stalled out finishing it until fall of 2021. it's the fic that got me back into writing. the five-year gap is palpable, I think. I'd write it very differently now than I did then. there's something really charming in that, I think

Ner Tamid - Black Sails, Silver/Muldoon implied but it's mostly gen, M - I'm at the jewish!silver character study. I'm at the doldrums cannibalism fic. I'm at the combination jewish!silver character study doldrums cannibalism fic. I had An Episode the night before my mom's birthday, went into A State, and wrote this in one ten-hour sitting. I think it is perfect. wouldn't change a single word

Through His Stomach - Black Sails, FlintHam and SilverFlint and SilverFlintHam in a weird proxy way, E - my magnum fucking opus. dark fairytale hag au. we are two weeks out from this fic's first birthday. at this rate it'll be another four years before I finish it. I learned how to write smut for this fic. the pride I have in this fic is obscene. this is the quintessence of me

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

yes! I do! I respond to every single comment! because I like getting comments and I appreciate the people who take the time to leave comments and I want to show them my appreciation by thanking them for their comments! and also because I can't shut up and I will take any excuse to talk about my own work! if you mention one thing offhandedly in a comment I am replying with an entire paragraph about that thing

6. What is a fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

ooh, this is a tricky one. the obvious answer is Cold, Dark, Depraved, but that one's SO angsty all the way through that the ending is rather... cold and dispassionate by comparison. the other answer is Ner Tamid but I suppose that depends on your definition of angst. there's an air of resoluteness to the ending; it isn't particularly fraught, it's just horrific

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

hmm. Sanguine, Five Girls, and Crawl 'Til Dawn all end with a getting-together (well, in CTD it happens a bit before the ending, but still). Five Girls has the element of self-acceptance and the confidence to live the rest of your life open and free and unburdened, but Crawl 'Til Dawn has the element of murdering your evil ex and then riding off into the sunset. guess it depends on which makes you happier lmao

8. Do you get hate on fics?

no? I write niche enough stuff that nobody's gonna read it if they're not into it

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

as of this year I do! I've been writing fic for over half my life at this point and I was so certain for so long that I would never be comfortable writing smut. and then I came to a scene in hagfic that I knew would hit so much harder if the characters were having sex. so I resigned myself to my fate and I fought through the embarrassment and now look at me. I'm a certified pervert

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

no and I don't like reading them, either

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

not that I know of

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

one of the homestuck fics I wrote in high school got translated into russian but, again, we don't talk about that account

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

nope

14. What’s your all-time favorite ship?

how the fuck am I supposed to answer this. how can I possibly choose. obviously the answer is jeff/britta but how do you expect me to pick

15. What’s a wip you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

I am still holding onto the belief that someday I will write To Cross Running Water, my sprawling black sails canon retelling where everything is the same except flint is a vampire. I refuse to let myself think I will die not having written it.

the actual answer is Say It Out Loud, my other trent/ted vampire au where ted is the vampire this time. I started writing it at the same time I started Sanguine-- literally the exact same moment. I had two word documents open in split screen. then I went all-in on Sanguine for a month (still insane to me that I finished it in a month) and I swore Say It Out Loud was gonna be shorter and faster and sillier, but then. I moved so slowly. and it got bigger and bigger. I got 30k into it-- thirty thousand words into it-- before season three came out. then s3 aired and it was so bad it killed all my enthusiasm for the show, and I really do not know if I'll ever bring myself to finish the fic now. I think it would have ended up being another 15k or so. I'd like to hold out hope that I'll go back to it but the hope diminishes every day

16. What are your writing strengths?

MOOD. mood. tone and mood. florid description. the rhythmic flow of the language-- cadence and meter are so ingrained in my mind; if it SOUNDS wrong, it IS wrong. I have a strong command of language and I can set a lush and vivid scene. and I need to do very little editing. it just springs out from my brain fully-formed like athena from the skull of zeus

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

plot. concision. speed

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

it's neat when other people do it but I don't know any other languages and I'm not gonna embarrass myself by relying on google translate or w/e

19. First fandom you wrote for?

hp unfortunately 😔

20. Favorite fic you’ve written?

hagfic. Through His Stomach. it's not even a question. like. are you joking. it's hagfic. except for when it's Ner Tamid

#I gotta rewatch community and write some weird stilted toxic jb smut 😔😔#there's a bit of jb in ctd but that doesn't count. I haven't written true jb in a decade #bluh bluh #thanks archer #through his stomach tag #sanguine tag #say it out loud tag #cdd tag

4 notes · View notes

raylawna · 2 years

Text

Hey, Black Sails fandom! I'm looking for a beta reader for a fic I'm writing.

The premise: Miranda lives/general fix-it fic with a pro-Billy redemption arc and season 2 vibes. There's some smut and a SilverFlintHam endgame.

If this sounds appealing, please message me! Or pass this on to someone who might be interested. Thanks!

#black sails #beta request #fanfic #silverflint #Miranda lives #BS season 2

6 notes · View notes

maremote · 2 years

Note

i’m your thomas hating anon and I thought I could leave it there but I actually DO have a lot to say about madi (cutting it short for everyone’s benefit here). the dynamic the three of them had has so so so much potential. it puts flint in a miranda role (with silver as flint/mcgraw and madi as thomas, only while they’re all alive together but also afterwards too?), it gives madi max-parallels (which are usually silver’s domain) and it even echoes the early jack/anne/charles vane dynamic in that silver (as jack) is essentially wrangling two feral cats because madi can absolutely be as feral as flint. max/anne/jack parallels as well. flint and madi have something they don’t get from silver, silver and madi have something they don’t get from flint, and flint and silver have something they don’t get from madi. also—flint and madi coming together from a place of mutual respect vs silver just worming his way into both their hearts; madi’s ability to call silver’s bullshit in ways flint can’t; silver’s anger at billy when madi and flint are being pragmatic about it; the way it’s madi’s war AND flint’s war but it’s also two different wars for different reasons; the way madi has a sense of responsibility to her people that’s deeper than silver and flint’s��silver out of obligation and flint with excessive pragmatism; but the way madi and flint’s priorities are very different from silver’s anyways.

limiting this to the three of them because I don’t want to bombard you with my feelings on madi in general as well and this is already too long but like. if you want a post canon threesome dynamic, this is right here and already built into canon with a foundation like they have at least all met, and it just makes more sense?? people like what they like (minimal shade thrown) but I was shocked to see how little there is for this pairing? (also going to be thinking about your penelope comments for ages)

yeah i agree with a decent portion of this. Though after reading a few Madi fics i think it's better this way i could not handle them doing my beloved dirty in thousands of works. Just don't think about her guys just stick to silverflintham leave her alone

#og #look how they massacred my girl #asks

3 notes · View notes

beanarie · 2 years

Text

fic master post: black sails

SERIES

the past and pending (post finale) silver/flint/thomas working their shit out while subsistence farming

1. rage and anger, brawling and slander (s/f, f/t) a desperately ill silver throws a rock in james's forced retirement. podfic by inkgeek

2. matters of blood loss (s/f/t) james reluctantly nurses silver and thomas develops a crush. podfic by inkgeek

3. untitled wip (s/f/t, madi/ofc) ch 1 and ch 2 silver brings a cartload of traveling maroons to james and thomas's farm. madi shows up soon after.

4. bone key (s/f, s/f/t) silver is grievously injured during a trip with james

indisposition (modern au, london criminals) angst, banter, betrayal, and cancer

1. feet on the ground (s/f) flint supports silver through his amputation

2. 'til my lungs give out (s/f, flint/thomas/miranda) months after silver sold flint out, james finds him again

3. a little bit of sand left in the hourglass (s/f, f/t/m, silver/madi, silver & max) james struggles while silver slips away

4. what a sea of melting ice i walk on (pre-s/f) when flint is double-crossed by his crew, silver is the one who has his back

ONE SHOTS

beyond the surface ripples (the unforeseeable consequences remix) (miranda/thomas) thomas keeps proposing marriage. miranda keeps saying no.

a piece of churchyard fits everybody (gen-ish) james returns to nassau when he hears the news that silver was publicly executed

a little bit of grit to build a pearl around (mostly s/f) ficlets, not!fics, and snippets

flesh and little spirit (silver & thomas, f/t/m) when flint's crew burns the plantation at miranda's urging, silver and thomas have to make their way out on their own

how do you suppose that we've survived (silver/thomas) james dies unexpectedly years after silver joined his relationship with thomas and now all they have is each other

#black sails #black sails fic #silverflint #silverflintham #my writing #things by beanarie

53 notes · View notes

jaynovz · 3 years

Text

Thomas @ Silver post-canon literally the first time they meet:

#like i said favorite fanon trope #thomas is a key ingredient to get the lads to pull their heads out of their asses and communicate #black sails #silverflint #:P #black sails crack #here's you shitpost #sorry it's late #thomas hamilton #james flint #john silver #silverflintham

167 notes · View notes

sailorsally · 4 years

Photo

And God saw that the light was good, And he separated the light from the darkness

#silverflintham #silverflint #james flint #john silver #black sails #sally edits #using bible verse because i've been channeling my inner thomas tonight lmao #also I live for the implication that Silver becomes Flint's god at some point #oh how the tables have turned!!#flinthamilton

314 notes · View notes

lupismaris · 1 year

Text

The Opening Act of Spring- a Black Sails Fic. Chapter 3

The Ranger’s have a castle above the clouds, the delta bayou’s favorite undead son hasn’t changed much despite appearances, and we meet the patriarch of The Walrus- one of the beloved queer bars in west Brooklyn- Hal Gates.

The condo The Rangers shared on West End ave was high up in a shiny new building, overlooking the Hudson river and the west skyline of Manhattan. Silver wasn’t surprised that his sister had opted for a sleek home with floor to ceiling windows and polished wood floors, she had always day dreamed about a place above the clouds, untouchable like the men and women they conned for eating money. And now, as he and Anne stepped out of the private elevator, it seemed as if her dreams of that life, to a point, had come true. Of course the life time of suffering and blood that had gone into it could hardly been denied, but as with all things Max did, no one would know it. Grace and Elegance masked all, by careful design.

Silver whistled at the well lit space, kicking off his shoes at the door. Sunlight was starting to spill into the open concept living and dining room. The lime washed walls were decorated with elegant pieces of art, contemporary and colorful to contrast the neutral tones of the condo itself, the furniture mid-century modern with its rich honey toned wood and brass metal accents. House plants and vases of flowers, well loved and flourishing, were tucked into every sensible corner and open surface, bringing life into an otherwise sterile home, one that Silver would have expected to see in a high end magazine review.

“She’ll be in the studio, through there,” Anne said, nodding to a room past the kitchen. She handed over the bouquet of Irises. “Give these to her. I’m gonna make sure Chaz is up for work.”

“Sure, thanks, by the way-”

She waved it off and disappeared down the dim hallway.

“Right. Good talk.”

The studio had, as expected, the best lighting in the whole condo. It was a corner unit and the studio sat right at the corner, able to scrape together whatever sunlight available at whatever time of day. Silver had to guess that Max’s bedroom was graced with either the next best natural light, or the best light fixture money could buy to mimic it. The room was filled with various dress forms and metal figures, each draped in different fabrics that would, in time, become cocktail dresses and gowns. Two work benches were littered with supplies, pages of sketches and two sewing machines, boxes of sexing tools, pens and pencils and drafting tools, shelves covered in bolts of lush fabrics in jewel tones and soft neutrals. All that was what Silver expected to find, the heart and soul of his sister’s enterprise laid bare.

But over by the windows, where Max was seated, stood an easel and canvas, with several half finished canvases of varying sizes leaning against the glass awaiting their turn. A small table attended to Max’s right, carrying a tray of oil pastels and a cloth for her hands, a pair of chamois for blending, and her morning cappuccino long forgotten, its foam clinging to the sides of the porcelain bowl.

His sister had always wanted to take up the finer arts, or so she had told him, but their lives had never allowed them the time. Too much running, too many lies, too many masks, and whats more, gutter rats like them had more important things to worry about than the delicate curve of a shadow on the page or how to blend charcoal, didn’t they?

Silver stood there silently for a few moments, watching as Max blended the soft peach of sunlight into the clouds she was attempting to capture, the view from her window shifting ever so slightly so that her canvas was a perfect dream of the Morning sky. Her dark curls, coiled more tightly than his own, were tied up high on her head with a silk scarf, the rich green and gold of it reminding Silver of laurels, a perfect contrast to her darker skin.

Of them all, Max’s laurels were most deserved.

“No one likes a ghost in the doorway, mon cher,” she said over her shoulder, taking up a robin’s egg blue pastel.

“I’d disagree but I’d hate to ruin so lovely a morning-”

Her laughter was as sharp as a jaybird’s call, joyful and just a little mocking. “Oh you’re exhausting. Come on then, you’re already half an hour late as it is you cad.”

Silver felt himself smile, his first honest smile since landing at JFK, and let himself enter the room properly. Max set down her pastels and wiped her hands, twisting on the stool to face him. Her lounge set, knit leggings and loose tank top of bone white, looked soft and well loved. She wore no make up, the only colour on her cheeks the stray smear of blue pastel along her cheek bone from a misplaced finger, and the only jewelry Silver could see was the delicate gold bracelet he had given her years before after their first big score.

And a simple gold diamond ring on her left ring finger.

“Well now when did that happen?” Silver asked with some astonishment. He’d expected a phone call if not a photo if Anne had finally popped the question after years and years of domestic bliss.

“It hasn’t, it’s a place holder,” Max said, though the soft blush in her cheeks meant it still meant the world. “She grew tired of people presuming things, had me pick out something classic until we could custom order something better. You know I wouldn’t choose a diamond for the final product.”

“No you had always been partial to pearls or emeralds, I remember that.” Silver kissed her temple and passed over the irises. “These are from her by the way.”

“Thought as much, you never bring me flowers.”

“No I bring you shiny things worth stupid amounts of money and leave the romantic gestures to your beau.”

Max rolled her eyes and got up to find a vase for the flowers, leaving Silver to poke around the studio like a curious stray cat. “I imagine those gifts are still at your hotel, since you look like shit and Anne said she found you drunk in a bathtub this morning?”

“Mmm it wasn’t my best wake up call I’ll give her that.”

“You don’t drink, mon Cher, I take it Jack’s plan didn’t go as well as he hoped?”

It was a question, but Silver felt the rhetorical tone even with his back turned.

“Did you suggest it to him or did he think it up all on his own like a big kid?”

“Now now don’t be too cross, it could have been worse.”

“How exactly? With Flint gutting me in public? Strangling me in an elevator? Tossing me off a balcony? Or do you have a more romantic kind of murder in mind?” Silver asked dryly, dropping onto the vintage loveseat by the windows.

Max set the vase of Irises on the closest work station and turned to face him with a sigh. “Are you finished feeling sorry for yourself? Or would you like to wallow in self pity for a few more minutes?”

“Few more couldn’t hurt.”

“You’ve had more than enough time I think and I don’t want to hear it.”

Silver pushed his sunglasses up onto his hair and blinked and the sun filled room. “As you wish. I’m just saying it was a dick move. And I’m a little surprised at you, shacking up with Flint after all this. When you were the one who knew before we all did that it was worth it in the end.”

Max crossed her arms and leaned back against the workstation, taking in Silver’s haggard face, bloodshot and shadowed eyes. “More than just a drink then hm?”

“Oh I’m sorry if it was Ellie would you have done better?”

It was cruel and he knew it. His sister’s eyes hardened for a moment as she considered him.

“Yes. Because I did the work you haven’t.”

Silver sighed and turned his gaze to the window.

“I don’t owe you an explanation,” she said after a moment, “You abandoned us. You had the opportunity to stay and have a real chance at something better and you walked away, so what I choose to do in my business ventures is none of your concern, Silver. You gave up that right.”

“Then why ask me here?”

“You abandoning us does not mean we have chosen to abandon you.”

It took effort not to look up as she crossed the room, coming to sit on the love seat next to him.

“Even if you’d rather we did,” She added.

“That- that’s not-” He sighed, turning to her and shaking his head. “I don’t wish that, you know I don’t.”

Max smiled at him and reached up to tuck a few stray curls behind his ear. She said nothing, just let his empty lie hang lifeless in the space between them for a moment, before asking about his flight in from Istanbul.

He had never been able to lie to her, and she had never been able to lie to him, not in any way that had mattered. Little white lies and surprise parties were possible, sure, but when it mattered? Eventually it would unravel, the fibers fraying and thinning as they tried to spin them, faster and faster until they were left empty handed and shamefaced. The only lie that stood was, in a sense, a shared truth- that neither of them had existed before their meeting, that their lives had begun the moment they had met in the back room of a dusty and dirty whore house in some city they pretended to forget the name of. Before that there had been nothing. That was the only lie they would permit.

And maybe it was better that way. Maybe it was better that Max knew Silver was lying when he said he didn’t want to be forgotten, abandoned to his self made misery while she and her lovers built new beautiful lives for themselves in castles on clouds. Because otherwise he’d have to admit it out loud, admit that he wanted to play the martyr and be left to the consequences of his mistakes.

That he didn’t think he deserved a second chance.

Some people didn’t deserve to be saved, right? Didn’t deserve to prove themselves bettered? Maybe, just maybe, he was one of them and the best thing he could do was let that be the case. Especially if it meant he didn’t have to acknowledge that he had in fact made the mistakes in the first place.

But he’d never win that argument with Max, not if she had it in her head that, for whatever reason, he was meant to be a part of their bizarre new lives.

Did he resent her, and the others, a little, for said beautiful new life? Despite it being everything they had bled for all those years? Yes.

Did it make sense? No not even remotely.

He found himself chewing over the thought all afternoon as they had an early lunch, the other Rangers joining them in the dining room. Rackham tried to be a gentleman and offer Silver his one punch to the stomach over drinks-gone-ary, but Silver refused him with a tired laugh.

“Let’s keep a running tally for now,” he said, letting Rackham pull him into a hug. “I’m sure you’ll earn another soon enough. Besides, I think both of us have had our nerves shaken enough over the last twenty four hours-”

Rackham laughed and kissed his cheek as he let him go. “Haven’t we just. There is nothing quite as terrifying as that man stalking you across a room. I thought I’d forgotten that fear but no, no, it has been thoroughly reintroduced to my nightmares after yesterday.”

It had never left Silver’s dreams, the way it felt to have Flint watch him from across the room, move with him, appear suddenly at his side like a phantom.

“You try bein’ in a fuckin kitchen wit’m,” Vane said over his shoulder, his rumbling voice raised slightly to be heard over the rhythmic thud of the knife against the cutting board. “One moment you’re alone gettin’ mise set no body but christ to talk to n’the next he’s there raining hellfire down. If he didn’t announce himself he’d get gutted for scaring a man.”

Rackham sat at the breakfast bar so he could watch Vane cook, “That’s a trait you share darling.”

“Doesn’t mean I gotta like it on him now do I?” Vane asked, feeding Rackham a slice of radish with salted butter.

Silver fought the urge to roll his eyes. They’d become bizarrely domestic and exhausting in their retirement, Rackham smitten in his expensive lounge wear and Vane wearing an apron with his name embroidered on it, putting the finishing touches on a cheese board and salad while the spanakopita finished baking.

It would have been gross, in the way it was for you to see your best friend mack on their new beaus. That is, if Silver wasn’t ultimately struggling with the concept of Vane as a kept house husband who fixed lunch for his roommates and only had a job to keep him out of trouble and wore, of all things, embroidered aprons.

Silver could distinctly remember the day he learned that Vane had removed another man’s head for pissing him off, after all. He had seen the aftermath alongside Max, her ex and the rest of the Guthrie smugglers. It wasn’t something you easily forgot.

Rackham had done the truly impossible. He’d take the wild thing and domesticated it, just enough to fool to world into thinking it had always been so. Silver made a note to never question his capacity for sex, romance, or sheer power of will ever again.

If nothing else, the embroidered apron was going to take a lot of getting used to.

He said as much later that afternoon, relishing the loud burst of laughter that rang out in reply.

“If Jackie hadn’a spent two days makin’ the damn thing-” Vane shook his head, his long hair tossing as he did. “Shoo ain’t catchin me wearin’ another that’s for damn sure. Jackie made it, understand?”

Another park, this time across the bridge, with a stunning view of the river, the sparkling glass and metal skyline of Gotham across the way. Silver had followed Vane to Brooklyn once lunch had finished, Max and Rackham off to a busy afternoon of fittings and model interviews for the summer look book, Anne joining them as she often did. So Vane had found Silver a spare helmet and pulled his vintage Harley out of the private garage, slipping the valet a few bills on their way out of the back entrance in a way that felt very routine, and they made their way to Brooklyn, slicing through traffic.

Silver watched the various pedestrians pass them by, the two of them seated comfortably on an ornate promenade bench, Vane’s bike parked a few feet away on the curb. “Still, considering you used to pitch such a fit about things like that? I distinctly remember you giving Flint so much shit whenever he told you to wear a shirt. Or say please.”

Vane snorted, all sharp teeth as he smiled in amusement. “Mmm but it is fun fuckin with that old queen innit? He cared far too much about respectability when it didn’t right matter n’he knew it, but it made him feel better to scold about it anyhow. Sense of control when it was all falling apart.” He shrugged. “Just cause Jackie get’s me playing nice doesn’t mean I believe it. Just means I believe it enough for his sake, you know? Makes him happy, makes him smile, so I believe in it enough to bring bout that result and keep one foot toeing the line should Jackie forget they don’t play fair. Means, end.”

There was that all encompassing “They” again, alongside a shadow that Silver thought he recognized, of the man who’d burned off his own finger prints at 13, who never quite understood Flint’s need for decorum, but seemed perfectly at home with Silver’s deeply rooted fear of commitment.

“And the means of working for Flint?” he asked when Vane didn’t continue.

“Mmm.”

There was a pause then, as Vane watched the clouds slowly roll in over head. A small, ghost of a smile played on his lips, as if he’d remembered some little joke that Silver wasn’t party to.

“Why I get the feeling you been asking this question all day?” he asked in turn, rolling his head over to look at Silver. “It’s eatin’ you up real bad innit, us tolerating each other again?”

Silver looked away with a sigh. “It doesn’t make sense.”

“Shoo, does anything about any of this? Johnny we stole the world out from under those fuckers and what’d I get in turn?”

On the expressway below the promenade, a truck’s exhaust backfired. Smoke, the smell of burning oil filled the air for a moment as the clouds continued to shift over head, memories taking shape in the altered light as Vane continued.

He hadn’t been there, the day Charles Vane had died. It hadn’t been long after he’d lost his leg and despite a clean amputation and proper antibiotics, his lack of rest had lead to an infection. Silver had been laid up in a safe house for three weeks, during which Vane had been captured on a raid.

“A noose,” Vane continued, “A coffin. If it had gone any different, if a fucker had been a smidge less upset that afternoon-” he laughed again, a darker, older sound and dropped his head back to look up at the clouds. Silver could see clearly the scar the rope had left, resting where his adams apple should have been, faded slightly with the years but haunting them all the same.

In the small courtyard of Rogers’ largest factory town to fall, Charles Vane had been strung up like the animal the world had thought him to be. Silver had learned later that some small speech had been made, the warden being kind enough, or stupid enough, to give Vane parting words. Whatever was said had been the last bit of fuel for the fire. In the riot that followed, his body went missing.

Silver had never been brave enough to ask him how, whether it had been sheer dumb luck or all part of a grander plan. Something told him that Vane would just level him with that tired, oddly wise look, and just smile, before changing the subject entirely.

“You and Flint tried to kill each other. More than once,” Silver reminded him, trying to change the subject. “Couldn’t agree on anything-”

“Who says that’s changed?” Vane shrugged, getting to his feet and stretching his arms high above his head, cut sleeves of his work tshirt riding up to show the faint edge of old scars long the underside of his pecs. “Said it before, Say it again- ain’t no body making that queen into a trophy but me.”

“Yeah but-”

“’Sides, something healthy bout that if you askin me. We different men, sure, he may be soft, but only I know just how so. Certain kinda intimacy you only get with a man you decide to be the end of, one way or another. Wouldn’ you agree?” Vane’s smile was teasing as he pulled out a cigar from his bag and fished around for his lighter. Silver pulled out his and waved for him to lean in.

Vane did so and held still, lips pulling at the cigar while Sliver lit it, smoke curling around his tanned face. “Thats a kind of love ain’t nothin’ gonna replace. Not comfort, not peace, not gold. Not even sex.”

Their eyes met as Vane pulled back, Silver feeling pinned under a gaze not for the first time that day. It was all he could do to stare back at the gray eyes that shifted behind cigar smoke.

“You used to want comfort, now I think bout it,” he continued, “easy comfort even. Mmm. Now you lookin more like me every day, Johnny. It’s a lean look on you. Pity we never wanted to be the end of each other. Otherwise, I think we’ a been interestin, you and me. Guess I gotta leave that to the old queen.”

Vane patted Silver’s cheek when he didn’t reply and moved around the bench towards his bike. It was time to head to the bar and for Silver to disappear back to Manhattan. That was the safest thing to do.

“Vane.”

“Mm.”

“You’d tell me if he wasn’t retired.”

Vane straddled the bike and puffed at the cigar for a moment. Silver didn’t look back at him.

“If he was out of retirement, I’d be out of retirement. Game’s not fun without that fucker in it.”

That might have been the truest statement he’d heard in the last 24 hours. Silver sighed and nodded, letting his head hang and his body sag into the bench a bit. He listened as Vane kickstarted the old bike, the engine revving to life.

“Make sure ya get home before the sky opens. Don’ want them findin’ ya in the gutter-” came Vane’s shouted goodbye before the roar of the bike echoed away down the street and Silver was again left with the settled ambient sounds of the promenade and the dark clouds building overhead.

The patriarch of the Walrus sat in the alley when Vane’s bike pulled up, where he could almost always be found before the happy hour rush began, his heavy form settled comfortably into the old bar chair they kept propped up against the wall. Hal Gates looked up with an unimpressed look, tired eyes peering over the reading glasses that sat on the tip of his nose to read the now forgotten copy of the week’s Brooklyn Daily Eagle that sat on his knee.

“Bout fuckin’ time you got here,” he said flatly as he watched Vane park his bike with a laugh.

“Shoo I got five minutes n change, can’t fault me for that-” Vane paused to pull out his lighter, which had been in his front picket the whole time, and relight the cigar.

“You know damn well that’s not what I’m talking about you shit. You want to tell me whats got him in a fit this time?”

“Why should I know, boss?” Vane flashed him a sharp smile and climbed off the bike, grabbing his bag from the saddle box.

Gates sighed and pushed himself to his feet, tucking the newspaper under his arm. Vane had a couple inches on him sure, the cocksure attitude that drove some people to the edge, but Gates didn’t need to posture when he closed the space between them. Two steps across the alley and he hummed in tired amusement as Vane watched him expectantly.

“Because,” Gates said simply, reaching up to take the cigar out of Vane’s mouth, “He’s looking for you.”

With a sharp smile of his own, Gates helped himself to the cigar and returned to his chair. Before Vane could make his no doubt clever remark, or at least follow up on the cigar stealing, the back door to the kitchen flew open.

“Ah, there he is, on cue-” Gates murmured, puffing at the cigar and going back to his paper.

“Now wait a goddamn-” Vane tried to say, as Flint came out of the open door like a wolf from a cage, grabbing him by the front of his shirt. The momentum of his movement had them stumbling backwards, Vane pushing back against him, the two of them half wrestling on their feet.

“Where the fuck is he?” Flint snarled. “Where- So help me Vane I will break your fucking jaw where is he-”

“Fuck is that gonna do- break my jaw ya cunt how is that gonna-”

“I know you’re a part of this Rackham can’t keep shit to himself-”

“Hey what’d I say about ya goin’ for Jackie-”

“Jackie can go to hell unless you tell me where the fuck he is!”

Flint managed to get his ankle around Vane’s, getting him off balance enough to shove him back against the alley wall. He kept one hand in Vane’s shirt while the other closed around Vane’s throat, threatening but not so tight that he couldn’t get the words out.

“Tell me,” he repeated.

“Get fucked.”

“I will make you talk so fucking help me Vane-”

Vane smiled, all top teeth, and pressed into the hand at his throat. “How ya gonna do that hm?”

Flint didn’t move forward, the way Vane’s goading invited him to. He could feel the slightest pressure of Vane’s hand against his stomach, it acted as a warning. Sure enough when he glanced down, Vane’s trusty old butterfly knife was resting against his shirt, the same empty threat as Flint’s hand around his throat. Vane held his gaze with a lazy, hungry smile that called Flint’s bluff with the satisfied smugness of a card shark. Flint hated him in moments like that, hated him deeply. It would have been so easy to tighten his hand and squeeze, but only if it were anyone else. Vane knew just how to make good use of that butterfly knife.

“If you two are quite finished stroking each other off,” Gates said after a moment, “I have a bar to run and happy hour starts in twenty minutes.”

It took a moment, but with a snarl and a huff, Flint shoved Vane against the wall and stormed back inside without another word, leaving Gates puffing at his cigar and watching Vane toy with his butterfly knife.

“So you want me on bar or-” Vane asked.

“Oh no, he will be on bar. He needs to be on a tight leash tonight and I will be holding it, thank you. You keep your head down and behave yourself on the line please or I’m calling Jackie.” Gates folded his paper and stood again, pushing his reading glasses onto his head and gently stubbing out the cigar to save the rest for later. “Do I even want to know what this is all about?”

“Silver’s back in town.”

Gates blinked, then sighed with a decade’s worth of resignation. “My personal twink from hell. Fantastic.”

He stopped Vane just inside the kitchen. “Don’t tell the boys. Not yet, not with Flint so keyed up about it and all. We don’t need it to be a bigger mess that it clearly already is.”

“Shoo, alrigh’ boss.”

“Go on with you then. I’ve got a hell-hound to keep in line tonight.”

Vane’s laughter followed him through the kitchen. Said hell-hound was braced against the darkest corner of the bar, staring into a glass of dark rum.

“Are we talking about this?” Gates asked.

Flint glared at him from the corner of his eye and knocked back the rum. He poured himself another drink and put the bottle away.

“Alright then. You’re on bar with me and Muldoon-” Gates held up a hand as Flint made to argue. “No. I don’t care. This is how it is, am I clear?”

The alternative was, as it was for every member of staff (Gates included) going home for the evening. If Flint went home he’d spend the night driving himself insane or worse, wandering the city, tapping into contacts and allies, trying to eliminate all place where Silver couldn’t be. If he was at their bar he could at least stay tethered to something that felt like reality, at least for now.

“We can talk it over after close tonight,” Gates added softly, resting a hand on Flint’s back, “Figure out a plan if you like. But you know you can’t be in the kitchen with your head in the past.”

After a pause and a slow deep breath, a bit of tension eased out of Flint’s shoulders.

“Fine.”

Gates rubbed his back for a moment. He grabbed the rum bottle again and topped off Flint’s drink, before pouring himself a matching glass. The bar was mostly empty, one high top occupied by someone with a beer and a book, a booth hosting a late lunch date, one regular nursing his aviation at the end of the bar. They could take a moment just the two of them.

“We’ll figure it out, Jamie,” Gates told him, knocking the glasses together. Flint nodded weakly and said nothing, taking up his glass, tapping it gently against the bar top, and downing it with ease.

Across the street, watching the foot traffic and cars pass the brick street front of the Walrus with its custom neon sign and myriad pride flags catching the growing winds, sat a busker. He was a familiar sight on the block, playing his bass guitar under the scaffolded walkway to whatever audience would stop to listen. As the sky opened up and people hid under the scaffolding, his audience grew for a time.

Amongst them, a young man with a camera who was as interested in the bar across the way as he was in the busker’s performance. Silver had to admit he was grateful for the cover, between it and the storm, not a soul from The Walrus, patron or crew, noticed him.

Yes it was risky, even with one of his casual get ups on (you’d be surprised how often people ignored trucker caps and hoodies), and no it wasn’t like he thought Vane or the others were lying.

He just needed to see it for himself, needed to see Flint’s retirement happily ever after with his own eyes for it to seem real. Or so he had thought.

Seeing it in that moment, seeing Flint slip out front for a moment and stand under the awning to have a smoke, his attention fixed wholly on the storm clouds overhead-

It didn’t help. It just sent him running back to Manhattan with his metaphorical tail between his legs.

#my fic #opening act of spring bs mdau fic #black sails fic #black sails modern au #silverflint #silverflintham #john silver #max black sails #charles vane #hal gates #james flint #for anyone wondering Vane is Appalachian born but grew up in the mississippi delta and louisiana areas #i cannot put into words how much i love writing this fic and writing him and writing hal and writing flint HHHHH god #i love these men these ridiculous stupid men #Anne and Max are just lovely #i can't wait to reintroduce you all to everyone AUGH

9 notes · View notes