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they tell you to watch black sails but they never tell you that afterwards flint will sit in the shadows of your room and Remind you

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BLACK SAILS | 1.07 ○ VII

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flint friday moodboard

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This part gags me so bad every time because it shows so well what a master manipulator Flint is and how his arrogance doesn't know limits, he trusted Billy would lie for him and he did. I love that little detail of Silver double checking if he still has the page because Flint's theatrics make him hesitate.

This is one of my favorite scenes of the whole series and it just episode one, my god.

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quick flinthamilton sketches

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I love it when people ask me how Black Sails ends. Genuinely I cannot answer that bro, u just had to be there. unfortunately I wasn't there. and neither was anybody else. it's the best ending I've ever SEEN though trust me it's peerless it's transcendent-- no I know what I just said, no I still can't answer that, look why don't you go find out and report back,

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The reason i love the ending of Black Sails (and why i hate like 80% of the discourse around it incidentally) is that no one is right! No one is wrong! They all make the most logical decisions based on who they are and John most of all.

The way I saw John apologists bending over backwards trying to frame it as an OOC decision because John wouldn't do that he loves Flint! at the same time John haters where feeling vindicated bc see he was a dick who only cares about himself and both sides making me claw at my face because the love was the point.

John would have not betrayed Flint if he didn't love him (and Madi)! Because then he wouldn't have cared if they died. But he does! He does so much in a way that is probably fully new to him and scary and it makes him act impulsively in a way he never did before (because as much as his actions often seem lackadaisical, he's a calculating mofo).

So he loves them.

He also, from the very first moments we meet him, has the biggest survival instinct of anyone. He doesn't care about principle or honour or cause he cares about survival.

He's managed to work for this cause and he's applied himself and i think at the moment of the story the Betrayal happens he's even really on board, but a tiger cannot change his stripes and so John Silver cannot change that his fundamental motivator is survival.

And because he loves Flint he wants him to survive more than he wants the cause to win only there he comes into conflict with the fact that Flint's main motivator is the Cause. He and Madi are creatures of principle of "The Cause Is The Cause Because It Is Worth Dying For".

So the confrontation in the forest is exactly this: Flint following his main motivator of the Cause before anything, because that is what he lives for and John just needing him to live, because you can't care about anything when you're dead.

And so it's tragic and heart wrenching because if John hadn't learned to love so well, so deeply, so earnestly throughout the story he would have let Flint go and continue to fight, but he did and he does so and he couldn't.

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Since yall ATE UP the last one

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some black sails bts because im in a silly goofy mood

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- How good it feels.

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Ooh would you be able to write some James/Thomas/Miranda just hanging out being cute together? In London or maybe an AU where Flint and Miranda saved Thomas from the plantation in season 2 instead of going to Charlestown? (yes that scenario does live rent free in my mind, why do you ask?) Anyway thanks in advance/either way! 💜

I realised I hadn’t gone down the being cute together road so tacked a new ending on which made it longer but OH WELL flinthamiltons live on!!!

———

She had noticed immediately that something was wrong. The way their old friend, the man they had counted on as an ally, had been cold and had dodged their questions at every turn. Miranda had seen the clock and then-

She had warned James in a hurried, furious whisper, rage bubbling just under the surface. She demanded he find out what the truth was.

And he did.

Peter Ashe had been their betrayer all those years ago. He had taken everything from them, destroyed their lives and their happiness. Whatever friendship had been between him and Thomas was all but dead.

“Here! Please, just don’t- don’t kill me!” The man pleaded, a ledger held out in his hands like a shield. Abigail was stood pale and unblinking as she heard of her father’s betrayal. She did not speak in his defence. Miranda was glad for that.

James, his face twisted in pain and anger, took the ledger. The dinner knife in his hand was hardly a weapon befitting the legend surrounding him, but she knew he would use it if needed. One mention of Thomas’ name and he would be willing to carve out this man’s heart.

She held her tongue. Enough blood had been spilled for now.

The ledger contained a list. Names, numbers, prices, locations and dates. Miranda watched as James’ eyes scanned the pages, frantically looking for some sign of why this was worth Ashe’s life. The moment he saw it, his body slumped. The air rushed from his lungs, colour drained from his face, the knife fell from his hand and hit the floor with a terrible thud. Miranda saw tears from in his eyes and rushed to look at the page.

Thomas Hamilton. Charlestown to Savannah, Georgia.

“He’s alive.”

James’ voice sounded like it was coming from the next room. He touched the paper, fingers caressing Thomas’ name, and Miranda clutched at him with both hands.

“We can find him, James. He can be home with us again!” She felt herself shaking, the room almost spinning as she tried to breathe through the sudden panic in her chest. James was silent but she felt him nod, felt him lean into her.

In the end they let Ashe live. It was more than he deserved. But Abigail needed a family, someone to provide for her, and they were not in a position to do that yet. Perhaps, in a year, she might…

They sailed to the mainland. The Ranger followed them, an uneasy truce between Flint and Vane struck by the knowledge they would be freeing people from bondage and claiming any riches found for themselves. The Walrus would come out with less, the only prize Captain Flint sought would be worth more to him than any gold.

When they reached the plantation it was… devastating to behold. The main house was all splendour and clean prosperity. Slaves and servants in pristine white clothes answered every whim the master of the house thought of. Even as Flint and Vane stormed in, guns raised, the slimy man kept his head. He quietly tried to bargain his way out of disaster and, to Miranda’s secret sinful joy, failed. He was slain without mercy. James’ true beauty shone through as he raided the rooms, searching tirelessly for his prize, for her prize, and Miranda wielded a sword he had given her to join the party.

They found him in the fields.

The world stopped spinning. The sun came out from behind the clouds. Birds ceased their songs as he turned to face them, confusion writ large on his aged features. The blue of his eyes seemed somehow diminished even as they widened in recognition. He moved slowly towards them, limbs long and thin as they always had been, the white of his clothes marred with earth and flecks of what might have been dried blood stains.

They approached him together, she and James, side by side, the three of them colliding like galaxies. Thomas’ arms wrapped around them and a laugh like cannon fire burst from his chest, loud and unrestrained and almost painful to hear. Miranda buried her face in his neck. She felt James sobbing against her side, felt her own sobs ripped from her, and suddenly everything was different.

It wasn’t alright, there were still ten years of hell to reconcile for all of them. But now they had the rest of their lives to do that.

Thomas pressed a kiss to her forehead, his lips chapped but warm on her skin, and she gazed up at him through her tears.

“I love you,” she whispered to him, “I love you.”

He smiled at her and it was so like when he had smiled at her back in London that she had to hold her breath.

“Thomas,” she heard James say, his voice thick and utterly wrecked.

Thomas turned, his expression so open and broken, and Miranda watched as they came together again. The kiss was hard, desperate, no doubt tasting of salt. They clung on to each other, still holding on to Miranda, completely unmindful of the people around them. It occurred to her that this was the first time they had kissed in the clear light of day. Her heart broke even as it began to mend.

Someone approached carefully, and she saw Thomas flinch, his hands tightening on them. He brought them closer, protectively.

“We should leave,” Captain Vane said. “One of the guards will have made it to town by now.”

James nodded even as he gripped Thomas’ shirt in one fist. “Fine. Well- five minutes and we’ll leave.”

Back on the Walrus, Thomas was given a wide berth at James’ order. He was taken to the Captain’s cabin and James had to tear himself away to see to his duties. Miranda stayed with him, nearly constantly touching him, and he touching her, the two of them sat in near silence as they breathed in the changed scent of one another.

“This isn’t a dream, is it?” Thomas asked under his breath. She shook her head and kissed the bruised, swollen knuckles on his hands. “Good. Good… I don’t think I could survive it if it were.”

She cupped his cheek and turned his face to her. “It’s real, Thomas. You’re really here with us.”

Nothing, not height nor depth, not life nor death, would part them now. Thomas was home.

—

Months later they were in Nassau and Miranda’s cottage was full of life. Bread was baking, herbs were drying, and there was laughter coming from the garden.

Thomas leaned his head on her shoulder, a cup of tea balanced precariously on his knee as they watched James. The fearsome Captain Flint was demonstrating how he had managed to get out of a particularly nasty predicament. He had been tied to a chair, trying to calm a rather irate bosun’s mate, and Miranda had lost track of the rest. She was too engrossed in the sound of her two love’s laughter. James kept bursting into giggles as he described his adventures. Thomas would laugh alongside him, his body moving against hers as the laughter took him.

She laughed too, but softer. The tea she had made them had long gone cold. But, later, they would sit in front of the fire and Thomas would tell them a little about his time without them. They would share stories, cry together, and then go to bed and sleep in a too-warm pile but unable to disentangle themselves.

James wandered over at the end of his story and sat in front of them on the grass. He rested his chin on Thomas’ knee and gazed up at him like an adoring puppy. Miranda ran her fingers through his long red hair, not as long as it had been in London, but it was growing out again.

“What are we having for dinner this evening?” Thomas asked, running his fingers over James’ cheek. He didn’t seem to be really asking about food.

“Whatever you desire,” James said.

Miranda had to laugh, she couldn’t help herself. “James, my love, you can’t cook.”

“Maybe not,” he said lowly, “but I have plenty of other talents.”

She tugged his hair lightly and laughed at his grin. “None that will stop Thomas’ stomach rumbling like a naval battle!”

Thomas didn’t even try to seem offended. He knew all too well how true it was.

“We can eat bread and butter in between,” James said with another grin.

“Sounds delicious,” Thomas stroked a finger down James’s cheek and pressed it to his lower lip.

“Come on,” Miranda said, tugging at the two distracted lovers. “Before you scandalise the chickens. The hens will start getting ideas.”

They wandered back into the cottage hand in hand, Thomas between them as he so often was nowadays. Miranda squeezed his hand and smiled up at him. There were new lines on his face she had begun to memorise over the past few months - around his mouth, around his eyes, etched into his forehead, all new but none unloved. It was the same with herself she was sure, and with James. They had aged, all three of them, and Miranda was enjoying the new patterns on their skin.

Slowly, they were relearning how to be together again. Miranda was relishing the challenge.

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I have known you like no other, so I love you like no other. LOUISE BARNES as MIRANDA BARLOW & TOBY STEPHENS as CAPTAIN FLINT BLACK SAILS (2014 - 2017)

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show thesis or something

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CAPTAIN HELL

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john silver

[id: screenshot of a tweet from @/ghoulhag that says, "low-key have a crush on my coworker and it might be mutual but the problem is i’m a compulsive liar and fabricated my entire life story over the last 6 months we worked together." /end id]

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“The first sound you hear, is the sound of my hurdy gurdy as I was tuning it up. And this weird, lopsided, almost out of tune groove started coming out of the instrument, and I just started recording it, and that’s actually the first sound you hear during the Black Sails main title. 

To this day I have never been able to recreate it. It was like this magic sound that happened. I had the mics on and I was right in front of it and the weather was right, it wasn’t too humid, it wasn’t too dry, and the hurdy gurdy made the sound. 

I think it’s very iconic of the show. Every time I hear it I go, ‘that’s Black Sails’. 

It captures the spirit of the show. These are all broken, sad, almost unlikable characters. And the combination of that hurdy gurdy groove with the melody that’s slower than it should be. To me it just struck that nerve. I think it gets to the core what the show’s about.”

—Bear McCreary

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BLACK SAILS - TITLE SEQUENCE