#black sails modern au

[lupismaris]

Chapters: 4/? Fandom: Black Sails Rating: Explicit Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Captain Flint | James McGraw/John Silver, Captain Flint | James McGraw/Thomas Hamilton, Captain Flint | James McGraw/Thomas Hamilton/John Silver, Captain Flint | James McGraw/Hal Gates Characters: Captain Flint | James McGraw, John Silver, Thomas Hamilton, Hal Gates, Max (Black Sails), Anne Bonny, "Calico" Jack Rackham, Charles Vane, Billy Bones, Eleanor Guthrie, Idelle (Black Sails), Augustus Featherstone, Muldoon (Black Sails), Joji (Black Sails), Joshua (Black Sails), Charlotte (Black Sails), Logan (Black Sails), De Groot (Black Sails), Woodes Rogers, Miranda Barlow, Madi (Black Sails) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Polyamory, Background Relationships, Everyone is Queer, canon violence is mentioned, look to chapter notes for any relevant content warnings, Lots of Background Ships Summary:

Five years and some change after their lives together ended, Silver finds himself sitting across the table from an old friend, with the sneaking suspicion he's walked headlong into a trap, without any hope of walking back out again.

my Black Sails Modern au (the one with the queer bar) is now on AO3. a few people had previously asked and now that theres more than one chapter I feel less awkward about putting it up there. 😊 All three chapters that have been posted here on tumblr have been uploaded there as well.

[tiofrean]

One day I will finish a sketch before starting another one... but today is not this day.

(I'm writing another part for my Coffeshop!AU and I got carried away imagining)

[heycarrots]

Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Black Sails Rating: Explicit Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Captain Flint | James McGraw/John Silver, Madi/John Silver (Black Sails), Anne Bonny/Max Characters: Captain Flint | James McGraw, John Silver (Treasure Island), Madi (Black Sails), Max (Black Sails), Eleanor Guthrie, Charles Vane, Billy Bones, Miranda Barlow, Anne Bonny, Dufresne (Black Sails), Alfred Hamilton, Thomas Hamilton, Joji (Black Sails), Ben Gunn, Muldoon (Black Sails) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Restaurant, Inspired by my real life nightmare, more tags added as we go along, Literally ALL of the swears, If there’s not an F bomb every other sentence are they even in a kitchen?, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, POV Alternating, Canon Disabled Character, Eventual Smut, Fluff and Angst Summary:

James Flint is the head Chef at a Michelin star restaurant in Miami which has seen better days. He’s three months from his review deadline when all hell breaks loose. When the worst cook he’s ever met weasels his way into his kitchen, can he and the staff of the Walrus & the Carpenter, lead by General Manager, Eleanor Guthrie, pull through or will they lose their fucking sanity along with their star rating?

[11chasty11]

so... a year ago I saw this beautiful poem https://thebibliosphere.tumblr.com/post/731710915304669184/taohun-taohun-whos-up-thinking-about-after and being in my (bi)annual black sails phase I immediately thought about modern james/thomas/miranda and made a sketch that was abandoned right away. now I finally finished it (sort of). I feel a lot of tenderness towards these doomed by the narrative little people and like to think that in another time in another place they maybe possibly could have made it. I think james' pov is very suitable for the poem since he is insecure and unsure of his place in life and in this polycule. he is afraid to be a nuisance but he is adored by both of them and it helps him - maybe for the first time - to feel like he belongs

[asterianart]

i've been holding onto these and not posting because i wanted to finish them, but who knows when that will be. In the meantime, enjoy them at their current versions.

This is from my Werewolf!Silver au.

[twopointsinspace]

Well I can’t wait to read all your WIPs!

Anything you can give away for ‘Library4’? (Another book-related fic in the works??)

Likewise!

Sure :) The 4 comes from the fact that I always give new versions (whenever I have changed a lot) consecutively higher numbers. It’s a modern AU in which James works as a librarian at a university library (as do a few other familiar faces). Enter John, a regular visitor who loves to flirt with James (who tries to ignore him because he's not looking for anything). It gets funny and romantic and heartbreaking and there are quite a few twists! I’m really excited about this one :D

Here's a little sneak peek:

Curlyhead turns in their direction at that moment and winks at them with a wide smile, and James jerks his gaze back to his computer screen. It's all he's ever done since he started coming to the library almost every day a few weeks ago. Finding a place near the circulation desk, smiling or winking as soon as their eyes happen to meet. He has never spoken to him.

"God, stop staring at him," James hisses at Eleanor and then, to his horror, sees her wink back out of the corner of his eye before she rolls her chair back to her own work area.

"Well, we have to let him know we're interested."

"But we are not interested. He... He is a student."

"So what? We're just employees of the library, not his professors."

[oh2e]

I feel like Interview With The Vampire rewired me in the same way Black Sails did - I’m weird about it but everyone else is so much more that I appear normal by comparison yet I am very much insane about it.

[brooklynislandgirl]

Any thoughts on genital piercings? Do you have any?

A Little Light/A Little Dark || -

And just like that, with an indelicate snort of a laugh, Beth's POG in her nasal passages. Where as she's more of a fan of a gentle saline rinse from a neti pot to the harsh chemicals of most over the counter antihistamines and where as she thinks everyone deserves a little extra vitamin C in their diet, the two things should never be combined, and certainly not with a mixture of pineapple and guava mixed into the orange juice. Silver can't help but laugh, and she's a hundred percent certain that from the corner of her now watery eyes that she's seen some money change hands between little Ben and Jack. Fortunately, none of the actual adults ~Flint, Miranda, Gates~ are having breakfast with their young associates. Once she's taken a good swipe at her face with her napkin and is no longer in danger of choking on or spitting into her acai bowl, she glares at Doctah Manderly beside her. Okay, if he can make her look like an idiot, she can do him one better, and not even Annie will be able to spare him this time with a timely interruption. Not that she faults the Irish Setter. Her person is just….well. She's too polite to even think it in the privacy of her own head. Beth stretches leisurely. Almost catlike. She can almost feel the almost no hair at the back of his neck stand on end because William doesn't like people getting close. Which does make her wonder who managed to talk him into asking her that, and what sort of leverage they used. Meanwhile, she fixes him with a smouldering half-lidded gaze and makes her voice as sultry as she possibly can, the kind of voice indicative of rumpled sheets and lazy kisses the morning after. Not that she expects him to understand that, she's willing to put money on the fact that he's never had an intimate relationship in all of his life. She also partially lies through her teeth; there's something traumatic in just the idea of it, at least on the female body, and the fact that some women don't have enough flesh in certain parts to even try it. There's the risk of contracting an infection or disease. There's the issue with cleaning things properly, and for most people, there's always the risk of dislodging or poking holes in their preferred prophylactics. The biggest draw back though is the potential for nerve damage, which would be counter productive to the whole process. But she does have a piercing he has yet to discover, which is what makes it partially a lie. "Billy, ku'ipo, if you t'ink ya man big enough, you should come try find out yaself. I will say dat yes…I got a piercing way below my ears, but I'm not gonna give it away jus' cause ya aks."

[oh2e]

in general I think black sails doesn't lend itself very easily to modern aus (the Everybody Lives Happy and Hydrated kind or otherwise) however one thing that always works is the ranger crew. like they are literally some queerplatonic mess of a friend group that met when jack was at uni and do domestic terrorism on the weekends, everyone knows one of those

[lupismaris]

The Walrus- whiskey & blues. The "official" playlist for Cobble Hill's favorite queer bar. No, we don't take requests. -X, Flint.

yes i made a playlist for a fictional bar to accompany a fanfic. Sue me.

I approached this as Gates asked Flint to assemble a formal Spotify playlist for the bar that patrons could pull up as a reference after they got the upteenth person asking about what was playing. Flint made the playlist based on the bar's vinyl collection which is predominantly blues oriented, they pride themselves on being an alternative music venue for the facet of the queer community that doesn't enjoy the same club music as their cohorts vibe to in other gay bars.

It'll probably update as I go and yes I'll throw a link to it on AO3 .

[tiofrean]

Guys... I may be a little obsessed with Poseidon Toby...

Grab a bit of the obsession! <3

[heycarrots]

*Runs shrieking into Tumblr*

It’s READY!!! Episode two of Reading Between the Lines Podcast is LIVE!!

I had such a wonderful time chatting with @jaynovz and, luckily, I’ll get to do so a regular basis as we work together on Jay’s cupcake AU audio series! 🥳

If you listen, let Jay know how much you loved both her story and her insights!

Anyone else impressed I managed to make it an entire episode and a half without gushing over Toby Stephens? I certainly am! And that streak has ended, my friends.

All hail the amazing creators of the Black Sails Fandom, may they reign in censorship and fear forever. 🙏　Once again, THANK YOU so much to Kelsey, aka @magicbubblepipe for your GLORIOUS episode art! Your work turns my heart into a puddle of warmth in the pit of my stomach this podcast wouldn’t be the same without your wonderful aesthetic touch.

I’ll drop the link to the book referenced in our discussion, for those looking for tools to hone their skills.

But first . . .

You Turned Me Into Somebody Loved by Jaynovz

And the book Jay referenced is Romancing the Beat . . .

[boatcats]

Modern AU Black Sails where Flint talks about needing a consort because they can't do this job without another ship.

This is the consort.

(They're not maneuverable enough and they need a push boat to help them get away from the dock)

(Vane keeps zig zagging in front of them in the zodiac - he's almost caused three collisions so far)

[blacksailskmeme]

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)

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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 😌)

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Relief, SilverFlint, 4708 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 😌)

-

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!!)

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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.)

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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)

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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 🥳🥳

[ruruumin]

meet me in amsterdam.

₊˚ ᗢ alhaitham x gn!reader, modern au.

⤷ based on the song, "meet me in amsterdam" by rini.

"I would sail across the world, row this boat from dusk til dawn."

Al-Haitham glances over at your figure, watching as you skipped rocks against the lake. The two of you abandoned your senior prom in favor of star gazing. He was dressed in a simple black tuxedo, with you wearing a rather fanciful garment. In true Al-Haitham fashion, he keeps a pair of headphones covering his ears. You, on the other hand, were dressed reasonably well tonight.  The jewelry that hangs from your neck shimmered underneath the moon’s light. He resists the urge to reach out with his fingers to tuck your hair behind your ear. 

The two of you originally came with different partners. Al-Haitham had an inkling to ask you to the dance but had been beaten by the Inazuman transfer student. So he ended up settling on taking Nilou. It must have been fate that led to both your partners leaving you to converse with one another. The silver-haired man doesn’t know whether or not he should pump up his fist in satisfaction, or give you sympathy. On one hand, he was glad that your partner walked off to talk to Nilou. On the other hand, he hated the heartbroken look plastered across your face when you were left alone on the dance floor. 

And so here you were. He grabbed you by the hand, ignoring your protests, and dragged you to a place that no other teenager would be on a Saturday night. You joked to him that he might be taking you to a secluded location to murder you, to which he replied with a snarky comment about how no one in this world would consider taking you out. Not because of the low percentages of murder in your hometown, but because he’d be the person protecting you. It’s cheesy, he has to admit. He read a couple of romance novels to prepare himself for a possible relationship with you, so he figured that being that knight in fairy tales might help him come off as heroic or reliable. 

He notes the way your frown turns into a small smile. Did he do something right? He dares to hope so. After knowing you for the majority of high school, he has yet to figure out whether or not you enjoyed his presence. Sure, you might say you tolerate him, but he just wishes that you could just admit it directly. Say that you liked to be with him. Say that you liked going out with him on Wednesdays. Say that you liked walking back home with him. He only wants a few words of appreciation and desire from you. Anything could do. As long as it's from you.

You don’t say much other than a few words about how the stars look bright tonight. You press your lips together, your eyes beginning to brim with tears as you try to tear your thoughts away from the misfortunes of prom. Al-Haitham can see the way you press your hand against the lower half of your face, your lips shivering at the cold weather. 

He nonchalantly takes off his jacket and pulls it over your shoulders. You stare at him with a surprised reaction, something that pulls him closer to you. He holds himself back from doing anything more and sighs under his breath, brushing aside a few strands of his slightly messy hair. You squeeze the edges of his jacket, holding it close to you. Al-Haitham calls your name. He points to a few stars dancing above the clouds, dragging your eyes to where his fingers landed. He takes the time to describe to you a few of the constellations. 

You can see the way his lips curve into a smile as his eyes glimmer at the prospect of sharing new information with you. You try not to laugh in the middle of his explanations. He’s always been so passionate about knowledge. Always digging his nose into books when everyone else would rather party or watch movies. He’s the most exciting friend you had and one that you can’t explain your feelings for. He keeps you grounded. Pulling you back when you start to wander a little too far. 

Slowly easing yourself closer to his figure, you let your pinkies touch. He says nothing when they do. His ears grow slightly hot but he stays focused on talking about the Northstar. Saying nothing more to him, you lean your head against his shoulder, humming in contentment as his voice drowns out the worries in your head. Prom wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. Perhaps you should have gone with him from the very beginning.

"There ain't no sunshine, no sunshine, where I was before."

Kaveh groans and reaches out to open Al-Haitham’s door, seeing that the room was pitch dark except for the small night light illuminating his restless figure. It was the same night light you’d gifted him when he was a high schooler, believing that it might scare away the restless nightmares that haunted him. It was a childish reason, Al-Haitham claims, he’s not some child that needs light because he’s afraid of the darkness. Yet he uses it every night, even now, when he’s in college. Not that you would know. 

Kaveh scratches the back of his neck, leaning against the frame of the door, complaining about the tossing and turning he could hear from the other room. He wants to scold the younger man, but when he sees the way tears prickle at the edges of his eyes, he can’t seem to say anything. He presses his lips together as the silver-haired man pulls himself together. He’s in an upright sitting position with his back against the headboard, his arm held up in an attempt to shield his tears from the blond. 

This was the first time the older man saw him so defensive. He’s always been high in the clouds, too far out of reach for him to believe that he could love. It’s absurd, he understands. Al-Haitham is human. He’s made of the same components as himself. He has flesh and blood running through him. A heart that beats a little too quickly to be caught. And being human comes with complicated feelings that twist and churn in his stomach.

Kaveh restrains himself from letting out a sigh when Al-Haitham wipes away at the corner of his eye, narrowing his eyes towards his roommate. He tries to snap at him with a snarky comment in an attempt to push him away. However, the blond knows him. Perhaps a little more than Al-Haitham gives him credit for. He pushes through the invisible force that drives him away, his figure resting at the end of his bed as he finally lets go of the breath he’s holding. 

He knows about you through photos. Pictures Al-Haitham left on his phone. He wasn’t one to snoop yet when he saw your glimmering smile on the front of his wallpaper, it screamed to him. His curiosity got the better of him and he wanted to know who this mysterious person was. Don’t blame Kaveh for remembering Al-Haitham’s password. It was a straight line down the keypad: 2580852. Anyone could remember it. And he needs to change it asap if he doesn’t want Kaveh to see anything unnecessary. 

He figures that something occurred between the two of you for him to act so vulnerable. Al-Haitham was the kind of person who would hide his feelings underneath snotty comments and a stoic face. But underneath he can be just as vulnerable as the next person. He has feelings and emotions that he is confused by. It stings and he doesn’t know what he could do to fix it. Reading books about his symptoms only leads him to a path of more confusion and utter nonsense. Had the circumstances been different, Kaveh would have mocked him for being a hopeless romantic. 

Yet now was not the time. Even if he did theoretically hate Al-Haitham for his messy habits around the house, his incapability to clean up after himself, and the way he toss and turned in bed causing Kaveh to wake up in the middle of the night, he couldn’t leave him like this. So he asks him if he’s okay. His eyes eyeing him from the side as Al-Haitham lets out a scoff, shrugging it off. Very typical of him. 

There was a moment of silence between the two. Neither of them talked. They only rested their shoulders, letting them slump over. Al-Haitham turns to the night light, his teal irises flickering from its existence to Kaveh’s. He figures that it was time to tell him about the darkness that plagues his mind. It would be better than clogging it up in every nook and cranny of his mind. And perhaps Kaveh might sympathize a little. Maybe he’d grow a bit more quiet around the house. And stopped nagging him about the books piling up on the coffee table. 

Al-Haitham has long acknowledged his strange feelings for you, his childhood friend. He knows that the quickening beat of his heart was something more than simple jitters. The way you reached out to brush aside his hair left flickers of flames on his pale skin. Your smile that brightens up his day is the first thing he thinks of when he wakes up in the morning. And the lingering stare he has on his toothbrush makes him wonder what it would be like to have yours beside his. 

But at last, it seemed as if you slipped through the cracks of his fingers. His inability to express to you his true feelings was left burning on the tip of his tongue. Even if he was a brutally straightforward man, he had his weaknesses. And one of those was you. 

"Won't you come closer, let it take over."

Al-Haitham stares at you, frozen in his steps. You're at the same late that night of prom. This time at least, you had a few more layers of clothing to keep you warm from tonight's weather. In your hand was a small pebble that you twirled between your fingers. The tips of your nails glide against the rough surface before flicking your wrist, sending it flying a couple of steps.

It's been a while since he last saw you. You had moved away to a different college. He attended one further south, while you left for the north. You started a new life with a different job. Met a couple of new friends from Mondstadt. Your appearance was mainly the same, except for a few loose strands that fell to the sides of your cheeks. 

You've seen each other a couple of times on your feeds. Al-Haitham has the habit of liking whatever you post. He hardly ever comments. If the day seemed right, he would drop a few lines asking about the book you're reading in the corner of the photo. But never something in an attempt to reconnect with you. He figured that you've grown too far out of his reach. And that perhaps it would be better if he allowed you to live your life without you.

It stung him for the majority of college. You and he called frequently in freshman year. However, it quickly diminished as the years went on. Your conversations diverged from asking him about his day to talking about your new coworkers and how you'll contact him when you get your new schedule. He tries to keep a smile on his face and nods to everything you say. He figures that his feelings for you might stay unrequited for a while. Maybe you knew from the start and didn't want to tell him, out of fear that you might embarrass him.

He’s unsure of what he should do at this moment. Should he reach out? Should he sit next to you? Could you still talk like the old days? He wrestles with the thoughts in his head, not noticing the way you turn your head to him, offering him the familiar kind-hearted smile he’s grown too fond of. He nervously sits beside you, his body still as a board while you chuckle. 

He’s grown quite a bit since you last saw him in person. He was a little shorter when he was in high school. Now that you were older, he towered over you. He was always a quiet man, you knew this to be true. Despite being close friends for the majority of high school and a bit beyond, he never shared more than he had to. His face, while stoic, always implied that he was holding back something. His tongue was lodged further back than other people.

But that doesn’t matter now, does it? The two of you are older now. More mature than ever. The past mistakes you’ve created started to shape who you were today. And that person came back to him. 

"I don't need anything, I just want you."

He remembers the feeling of your skin against him. When you pulled him by his fingers, guiding him through the open area of street markets. Older couples would stand outside their vendors, waving to people with the smell of freshly cooked food. Al-Haitham doesn’t say anything as you skipped around. The smile on his face says more than enough. Your eyes sparkled in excitement when you point to the mangos being sold in a cup. You had your signature bright smile, the one that would light up the entire world when it grows dark. It was the same familiar feeling he received whenever he turns on his childish nightlight.

He’s quiet when you notice an older stall, too busy being distracted by the warmth of your hand to make any rational decisions regarding your spending habits. You opened your wallet to pour out a couple of coins, handing it to the street vendor. In a matter of seconds, you hold up a few skewers towards Al-Haitham, gesturing for him to try the food. He drops a couple of snarky words towards you, but it was quickly silenced when you pushed the food against his lips. He lets out a sigh. He reaches out to hold your hand, the same one gripping the skewer, and settles by taking a bite. 

You try to ignore the way your face grows a bit warmer when he chews slowly. His expression which had been neutral, morphed into enjoyment. He comments on the tenderness and how savory it was. You’ve always known that he liked meat but seeing him grow so close to you made you wonder what else you knew. He takes one more bite before pushing it back towards you, his eyes softening as he smiles. “You should try it as well,” he says, taking your other free hand and interlacing your fingers.

For some reason, you start to feel a bit nervous. You don’t say anything when he holds up the stick as you eat. The sparkle in your eyes continues to shine radiantly as you finish the rest of the food. A smile still spread across your face. Now, he’s the one pulling you to another vendor, pointing at a few items and ordering them for the two of you to try. He wants you to experience some of his favorites as well. 

He doesn’t know how to describe this scene in words. Watching you enjoy a meal in front of him, your hands reaching out to feed him on the occasion sent waves of butterflies in his stomach. He questions if this was the start of something new for your relationship. Friends, close friends, distant friends, and back around to friends. Will you see something different in him if he continued to hint at his feelings? Could you feel his pulse whenever you hold his hand? Can you feel how quickly it beats for you? 

He wants to express to you the words that have been lodged in his throat. The same ones that Kaveh wishes so desperately he could spill. Roommate or not, he says that this game of cat and mouse has gone on for too long. It was so blatantly obvious that he was still in love with you. So hopelessly, devoted to you, even when you’re so far out of reach sometimes. 

He understands that he isn’t the first person people think of when it comes to romance. But he wants you to see him for who he was. Someone that could open up the world for you. Someone that would sail the seas just to embrace you underneath the moonlight. Someone who dreams of you every night, hoping that you might catch his lingering touches that sting like an ember. 

He says something to you in another language. I like you, it translates. It causes you to perk up in interest as you lean your head against the palm of your hand. He blinks a few times before clearing his throat, rolling his eyes as you tease him about what he said. You poke and prodded at his cheek, pouting every time he gives you a dry answer. He would eventually shut you up by holding up a fork, shoving the rest of your food in your mouth. 

He ignores your cries and moans, begging him to give you a translation of what he says. He only pushes your head away and squeezes your hand a little tighter. He hopes that you can’t see the way his pale skin reflects the red tint of apples. 

“If there is a next time, meet me in Amsterdam” 

He sucks in a deep breath when he pushes you down onto the sofa. Your eyes stare deep into his as your fingers glide across his skin. He tries not to whimper when you press against his rose-tinted lips. Your presence to him was addicting. It kept pulling him back and forth like an ocean wave. You’ve caught him in your net and he can’t find the power to break himself free. 

Kaveh was out of the house today and the silver-haired man jumped at the opportunity to bring you over. It’s been months since you’ve first reconnected with him. Months spent so generously with the man before you. After spending a week in town, you decided to extend your say just a little bit longer. You wanted to explore this strange flame that had developed in your chest. And it would lead you here. Your back against the soft cushions as Al-Haitham pinned you down. 

Oh, how he longed for this moment. For him to stare deep into your eyes with nothing more but fondness for you. For him to finally share how he feels without having to look over his shoulder. For him to finally tell you that he truly, wholeheartedly, loves you with everything he has. He wants to finally tell you that he’s been waiting since high school to hold your hand like this. Waiting throughout college to kiss you. Dreaming all this time to be yours.

He leans his forehead against yours, breathing in your scent as you smile. Was this the breaking of the dam? The flood that is your relationship, coming to crash against this wall? The tension that had been mimicking the push and pull of a rope was beginning to snap. And he could feel nothing except explosions at the pit of his stomach as he pressed his lips against yours. He holds onto you tightly, scared of losing you one more time. 

But you stay. You bury your fingers in his hair, bringing him closer to you. He rested his weight against your stomach, fingers clutching onto your waist. Kocham Cię, he says when he breaks away from you. Air becomes short when he goes back to snatching your lips. Anh yêu em, he whispers against your skin. Seni seviyorum. He squeezes your waist. Eu te amo. He tilts his head just a little to capture you once more. Ya lyublyu tebya. He pulls away from you with heavy breaths.

He wants you to know how much he loves you. He wants you to see the number of times he’s held back on kissing you each time you smile. You were like the sun to him. So warm and out of reach at times, yet he desired you nonetheless. He waited years for this moment. And he wants nothing more than to indulge. If you would have him, he would give you everything. He would give you everything he is, and so much more. 

Ich liebe dich, he kisses the side of your cheek. Wǒ ài nǐ, he kisses your forehead. Te quiero, he kisses your nose. You let out a few giggles as you attempt to push him away. Wrapping your legs around him, you keep him steady. His body is squished against yours. You begin to melt in his arms, his lips still kissing the surface of your skin. He looks into your eyes with those beautiful teal irises. 

I love you, he finally says. 

And you would reply with, I love you too.

[drconstellation]

Lifting the Veil on the Bentley

Because I’ve been talking about the Bentley being Crowley’s black horse of late, I’ve had a nudge to talk about the number plate. I know it’s explained as an easter egg in relation to Monty Python, but I think we can explore it a bit further than that.

It’s worth having a quick look at this older post from @fuckyeahgoodomens where they explain the inspiration was from an animated scene from Monty Python's Meaning of Life .

The following is from the linked article.

As a nod to Terry Gilliam, who once tried to do a movie version of Good Omens, Gaiman and Mackinnon threw in a little reference to Gilliam’s origins doing animation for Monty Python. “The license plate of Crowley’s Bentley is ‘Curtain’ backwards,” Gaiman said, because of the writing on the mausoleum in the suicidal leaves section of Monty Python’s The Meaning of Life. “Curtain backwards, like it’s the final curtain,” Mackinnon explained.

Before I get into all the connotations of “curtains,” there should be two things you notice about the “CURTIN” written on the mausoleum. The first is the spelling itself. It’s shortened to look like the Irish surname Curtin, so the mausoleum appears to belong to a real person. Curtin is an anglicized version of Mac Curtain, which means Son of the Crooked, or Son of the Harp, as the ‘crooked’ refers the hunchback shape of the Irish harp. I wouldn’t read too much into that, its probably more just a way of getting an actual curtain reference into that scene.

The other thing is that is not just backwards, it is mirror-image, as if you are looking at it from the other side of the mirror. So we should ask ourselves – which side are we looking from? And why does this matter?

While director Mackinnon mentions it referring to the “final curtain,” we need to start even further back than that to understand what the final curtain is, because even that has two meanings, even if only in a general sense. But because this is the GOmens AU, you can guarantee we’re going to find out there is more to it than that.

We need to go beyond the veil.

To go “beyond the veil” has become a euphemism for passing into death, or that unknowable place people go once they die. It was originally a figurative reference to the area in a Jewish Temple that was separated from the main body of the Temple by decorative curtains, called veils. The veils were specially woven, often with the image of a Cherubim woven in by a skilled worker; it was not allowed to be sewed on or added later. Each panel of the veil would display a different face of the Cherubim, such as the lion on one side, an eagle on the other, and so on. Only the priests could go past the veil into the most holiest of places. The veil was symbolic of separating men and their sins from the glory of God.  

The word ‘veil’ can be translated into English as ‘curtain,’ so the two words are almost interchangeable in respect of this discussion. I was interested to see that the word veil comes from the Latin word velum, which also means ‘sail,’ as in “to move, to drive a vessel or vehicle forward.” I have previously commented that the Bentley should probably be a “she,” as traditionally all ships were female, and that’s a tradition we still see carried into the modern day, thousands of years after its origin. I’ve even seen modern day space probes – little ships sailing the solar system – referred to as she! But I’ll not be pedantic about it, don’t worry.

Keep your hands off my bitch, bitch.

So the curtain, or veil, is the boundary between life and death. Only – we are seeing it from the other side. And in the GOmens AU this “other side” is very real, and one Aziraphale and Crowley walk through with both ease and without much thought. They are agents of those on the other side of the veil, yet they walk with Humanity in a solid reality on the surface of the Earth. They know the other side is real. When wee Morag complains about Elspeth’s body-snatching activity that the ones she digs up and sell won’t be able to go to Heaven because they will be cut up, Aziraphale tries to tell her it’s not like that, but she's not listening:

WEE MORAG: Aye. Tell that to the poor souls who will not get into heaven 'cause their bodies are all chopped into wee pieces. AZIRAPHALE: Well, that isn't how it actually… CROWLEY: Heaven isn't all it's cracked up to be, you know. WEE MORAG: It's no right. I'm telling you. CROWLEY: Yeah.

For humans, though, there is supposed to be no return once you cross that threshold.

When we, the viewer, see the two worlds meet, it's usually signaled by the presence of fog, mist or smoke. When Lesley the delivery driver meets Death, the fog arrives, as he is no longer in the living world. When Aziraphale and Crowley leave Tadfield Manor, we have smoke telling us we are seeing two different times and places at once - the past and the present are overlaid on one another.

The Bentley must exist in both the Human and subliminal worlds at the same time - how else can it drive like it does? It doesn't really need Crowley's hands on the wheel to guide it. It couldn't have started out like that - it was made by humans, but we all know the Bentley is more than just a car now.

It chooses the music to play on its radio, it refuses to speed when taking Aziraphale to Edinburgh until Crowley yells at it, it tries to follow the angel after he gets out at the end of the journey. How it got like this we will probably never find out, but we figure its become an extension of Crowley by close association, much like Aziraphale tends to influence the world around him without effort as well.

In terms of it being a black horse - well, now we get into some interesting stuff!

Horses have been companions to humans for longer than cars have been around, so there is lots of lore and symbology associated with them. Previous metas around S2 have focused on "dark horses," as they were specifically mentioned twice in the script. But a dark horse is not necessarily a black horse, and vice versa, so lets look at some of the aspects of black horse symbology in particular that could be relevant to the Bentley and it role in traveling between worlds.

Horses were the original vehicle of the ancient world. While Famine was supposed to ride a black horse (the others were white, red and pale green for pestilence,) the black horses could also be messengers of death, a demon bringing death or a guide to the afterlife. In the Illiad, Achilles sacrifices four horses on the funeral pyre to accompany Patroclus to Hades.

[Edit: I've just put myself through the pain of watching S2E6 again, for reasons, and realised why the ethereal lift is in the entrance to the Dirty Donkey - because a black horse is a guide between worlds! Of course!]

They became associated with the Devil during the Middle Ages as the church tried to break the link to old pagan rites. The broomsticks witches ride are supposed to represent horses. And then there is the sexual connection to horses...which leads in a round-about way to the practice of nailing horseshoes up for luck and protection. Although perhaps the burning horseshoe on Jasmine Cottage is more directly linked to the story of St Dunstan tricking the Devil and making him promise he would never cross the threshold of a house that had a horseshoe nailed to the door.

Our favourite Bentley has been beyond veil and returned. Though it was kept valiantly alive through the sheer will of Crowley to escape the unnatural flames of the Sigil of Odegra, it expired at the Tadfield airbase once Crowley arrived and finally released it. It was only appropriate that Crowley took a moment to acknowledge its service.

Then Adam restored it the next day. Resurrected it, one could say.

Time for the "final curtain" to wrap this meta up.

To "face the final curtain" is another euphemism for facing death, or at least an ending. It's the final curtain of a theatre show, after the encores are done. Its the final fall of the curtain at the end of a run. Sometimes we might say its just "curtains" for something or someone, meaning it will be ending, as a shortened form. But both Aziraphale and Crowley knows death isn't the end; its a beginning as well. Its just matter of perspective to them.

I've seen other writers associate this final curtain with the first Armagedon't, and now we appear to maybe be facing the "big one" in S3 - the Second Coming. I think that is too simplistic an association, especially for GO. The reversed side of the veil could be so many things: the final battle, the ability of our ethereal heroes to move between worlds, it could even be Crowley returning from the "death" of being one of the Fallen. As always, the meaning will be need to be considered within the context of the scene, and which side of the curtain we are looking from.