An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Miranda Ashe has been waiting for a chance to make her play for New York society, when her husband presents her with the opportunity to host a real member of the English nobility, she could not refuse this request.
I know The Gilded Age is the antithesis of Black Sails, and I'm not sure if anyone else has watched both shows...but this was really fun to write!!! Exploring a start for Miranda and Thomas that is more complicated that their usual beginnings!!!
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Chapters: 1/1.
Word Count: 2.6k.
Rating: Teen.
Fandom: Black Sails.
Characters: Max, John Silver, Minor Original Characters. (Mentioned: James Flint, Anne Bonny, Jack Rackham, Eleanor Guthrie)
Relationships: Max & John Silver, (Mentioned: James Flint/John Silver, Anne Bonny/Max, Anne Bonny/Jack Rackham)
Tags: Post-Canon, Pre-Treasure Island, Canon Compliant, Friends to Enemies, Tension, Angst, Morally Ambiguous Character, Reunions, Rebirth.
Content Warnings: spoilers for the Black Sails finale; one brief mention of hypothetical suicide; mentions of war, murder, betrayal, and execution; a "reformed" Nassau; morally grey John Silver (affectionate).
Summary:
“A hushed silence follows him through town, careful eyes bearing witness as their nightmares manifest before them, as women hide behind doors with their children. She knows when he’s arrived not from the sound of his crutch on old floorboards or the guard’s coded knock, but the way the tavern goes still first.”
John Silver returns to Nassau. Set roughly halfway between Black Sails and Treasure Island.
autumn's beginning (3044 words) by forbiddenarchives
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Black Sails
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Relationships: Thomas Hamilton/John Silver, Captain Flint | James McGraw/John Silver, Captain Flint | James McGraw/Thomas Hamilton, Captain Flint | James McGraw/Thomas Hamilton/John Silver
Characters: Thomas Hamilton, John Silver, Captain Flint | James McGraw
Additional Tags: Post-Canon, Canon Disabled Character, Porn with Feelings, Size Kink, Blow Jobs, messy blow jobs, some very mild hair-pulling
Series: Part 2 of summer's end verse
Summary:
“We’re not conspiring against you,” James says, at the exact same time as Silver says, “We’re pirates. Of course we conspire.”
(Or, what happens after at summer's end. The smutty coda to their evening.)
5. hands on the other person’s back, fingertips pressing under their top, drawing gentle circles against that small strip of bare skin that make them break the kiss with a gasp
It’s embarrassing, really, how easily Flint gets distracted by Silver while they spar. The only reason he hasn’t accidentally let Silver disarm him thus far is sheer muscle memory; he’d mastered these particular maneuvers when he was a sixteen year old midshipman.
The first day Flint noticed just how narrow Silver’s waist was, and had spent the day blocking nervous jabs from his quartermaster while wondering how those trim hips would fit in his hands. The second, Silver had tied his hair up in a messy, ridiculous knot at the top of his head, and Flint had to cope with the fact that he still, inexplicably, found him attractive. And so it went, day after day, Flint finding new, sometimes small details to fixate on while Silver went through their drills: a particular mole on his cheek he’d never noticed; the way sweat pooled at his collarbone, in the valley of his chest; the broadness of his fingers around the pommel of the blade; the way his curls framed his face when the leather band keeping it back broke…
Today, what’s driving Flint mad is that Silver has untucked his shirt. It’s sad, what he’s come to. He’d initially found it almost sweet, the way the loose tunic almost dwarfed Silver, hanging loose around his frame. Now, however…
The wind picks up intermittently, normally a relief in this heat - the reason for Silver pulling his shirt from his trousers - but now Flint must contend with small, teasing peeks of Silver’s midriff, taut and glistening with sweat.
It’s torturous.
What’s worse is when Silver falls, and the usual concern Flint feels is immediately overshadowed by a gnawing lust settling in the the pit of his stomach as two perfect dimples in his lower back are revealed in the process.
The thirty seconds it takes for Silver to get back to his feet is long enough for Flint to imagine, in exquisite detail, what it would feel like to pull Silver flush against him, to feel the press of his chest against his own as he rucks up that damn shirt and runs his fingers along the knobs of his spine.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Silver interrupts his musings, and when Flint stops his dazed staring into space to look at the man he’s given a baffled look.
“What?”
“Weeks now - months if I’m being honest - I’ve been trying to catch your eye, keeping a polite distance, and all it would have taken was me pulling my fucking shirt up?”
“…what?”
Silver lets out an irritated huff and moves into Flint’s space. The last time they were this close, Flint had a knife to Silver’s throat. “Tell me I’m wrong.”
Flint lets out a breathy laugh at the familiar phrase; that night on the Warship seems so long ago. He drops his sword and cups Silver’s cheek, hesitant still. “Of course not. God, Silver, not just today, either. These past weeks have been torture, watching you - ”
Silver cuts him off, clearly tired of waiting, moving forward and catching his mouth in a kiss. Flint responds without hesitation, steadying Silver and wrapping his arms around his waist. Silver, in turn, loops his free arm around Flint’s neck, cradling his skull in his wide hand.
Flint is not above taking advantage of a situation, and so he slides his hands under Silver’s loose tunic - Silver smiles against his lips, which he valiantly ignores - splaying his fingers possessively across his lower back, tacky with sweat. He circles those sweet dimples with a finger, tracing soft patterns, and Silver sighs into the kiss, slumping against his captain. It’s as though this gentle action has seeped all the tension from his body; Silver is loose, relaxed and malleable in Flint’s hands.
He realizes, after his initial surprise at this reaction, that Silver has let his guard down. He feels safe, here in the circle of Flint’s arms.
Later that evening their kisses will turn frantic, their touches greedy and purposeful, but for now Flint savors these slow, lazy kisses, this sweet exploration.
Certainly, though, Silver will never again be able to wear this particular shirt without being accosted by his disgustingly besotted captain.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
✓ Live Streaming✓ Interactive Chat✓ Private Shows✓ HD Quality✓ Free Actions
Free to watch • No registration required • HD streaming
Silverflint drabble of the week, 14/10/19: Compassion, Coffin, Bridge (VI)
(Set up: after 2.10, Flint POV)
.
Miranda.
In a coffin.
The horrific vision has left permanent, devastating marks all over him - like branding iron. An image forever printed on his eyelids; a terrible guilt heavy on his conscience; a bottomless hole in his soul; a never ending pain in his heart. Rage and revenge are a lifeline; but inside, he feels dead already.
And yet.
When he reaches the bridge, hears what happened...
What he feels is more than simple compassion.
It's fear.
Of losing HIM, too.
He doesn't want to acknowledge what it might mean.
Not now.
Not ever.
But it is - irrefutably.
.
(For my other shorts, aka ‘The Memories Chest’, click on the tag?)
Flint's voice shook James out of his thoughts and he felt the hairs rise on the back of his neck.
"Of you?" James huffed. "I don't think so."
"For him." Their eyes met. "Feel free to hate me, but even you can't really think he's in danger with me. I've killed hundreds for him, and would kill hundreds more." The words were spoken with such blithe factuality they might have stated the time of day. "As for the safety of this house... Well, a livelier place than this town would still be hard pressed to rustle up anything more dangerous than me. Don't worry, good man." Flint grinned, all teeth and gleaming eyes. James bristled. "As long as I'm here, he's safe. I have no conscience or good name to hinder me doing what's necessary."
it’s here! earning that e-rating this time. thanks to everyone that encouraged me to keep writing this weird surreal little story, i'm going through some rough times and it often feels like no one cares anymore, and it’s nice to pull myself out of that hole.
idk if you're up for writing silverflint but, "i wanna say that there’s still hope but sometimes things just don’t go your way."
mer im always up for writing silverflint dksj anyway. this is short and im in pain but here goes, i hope you like this!!!
Silver still has his gunraised and trained on Flint, his finger poised on the trigger even though Flinthas not moved in at least five minutes. Silver knows that he has not been ableto convince Flint that it is over, not with what he has said until now, so hetries again.
“I want to say thatthere is still hope. I do. But I am tired of this. Your war - if we continuedown this path, there is no way of saying of much suffering it would wager. Andyou and Madi might be fine with the fact that you may die for it, but I am not.”
“That is not yourdecision to make.” Despite having just murmured the words, Flint has his chinheld high, noble and proud.
“Sometimes… Sometimesthings just don’t go your way, Captain. I will not be the reason either of youmeet your untimely deaths.”
Flint snorts. It is anugly sound and Silver barely refrains from flinching at it. His hold on the gunwavers for the briefest of moments, but he clenches his jaw as Flint speaksagain.
“You’re holding a gun tomy head. And I’m supposed to think you are doing this to save me?”
“I am doing this to save you.” Silver finally lowers the gun,discarding it to the ground. He takes a step toward Flint, trying hard not to let any emotion seep through his expression.
“How?” Is all Flint saysnext.
“A plantation. InSavannah. I’ll bring you there.”
“A prison, then.”
Silver’s shoulders sagas he nods. “A life of isolation, but lived with the person you love.”
“What?”
Flint’s voice has lostall its fire. He stares at Silver like he has the answer to all his questions.Silver stares back like he has the weight of the world resting on hisshoulders. “Thomas Hamilton is alive.”
