a ship in harbor is safe

Idea

(I’m blaming @siderealsandman for this. I saw your post and I didn’t literally add everyone in, but like… I had to share it okay?)

What if Adrien inherits his dad’s mansion and just fills it with everyone he loves.

Like first it’s his best friends (Nino, Alya, and Mari). Then Chloe and Sabrina just kinda start kicking it there until he just gives them each a room. Then everyone else just has a standard room that’s ‘theirs’ and they come and go as they please.

All the regulars have an understanding that everyone loves everyone else a certain way and it’s not weird if one week Adrien and Mari are close and then the next Mari’s with Chloe and Adrien’s with Nino. Also everyone has their own boundaries that are respected. So no one would push two or more people together unless it’s what they want.

Basically I just want all of them to be happy and to have fun game nights where everyone’s required to hang out no matter how busy they are. And pillow forts. And Adrien being surrounded by infinite amounts of love. And an open-door policy where anyone can come and join in or be invited…

I just want everyone to be loved okay?!

here are a bunch of fucking fantastic fics I’ve enjoyed and loved reading throughout the month of october. I recommend that you read these great fics in november, if you haven’t already!! also check out the Reverse Big Bang and 31 Days of Smut!

(all fics with a star are my favorites and if there are two stars then it was a favorite favorite)


1. Damn the Dark, Damn the Light 20k

“Why is this face of beauty ringing so true?” The genuine confusion in Harry’s voice causes Louis’ chest to painfully twinge. “You’re a complete stranger in my eyes, William Shakespeare, but not in my heart. How is that possible?”

Louis wants to live out every romance plot he has ever written in his own life. He wants to be the protagonist of his own narrative, the hero who finds true love and gets his happy ending. Instead, Louis is stuck with only dreaming of such wild fantasies and writing them down. He can create entire romances in his dreams, yet he can never live one.

2. Threadbare 20k**

Harry Styles was eight years old when Louis Tomlinson kept him from falling into a machine in a Manchester textile mill. He was 18 years old when nothing, not even the threat of death, could keep Harry from falling in love with Louis.

3. Don’t Come Down 6k

Louis takes Harry home to meet the family.

4. I’ll Take Your Pain 2k*

Or, soulmates have the ability to feel each other’s pain, and Harry finds his after getting his arse waxed.

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foothold   ⚣ harry × louis   Ⓜ mature  ⌘ science-fiction, angst, hate to love   ≟ 18,400

Louis has crossed the galaxy with a ship full of crystals; they’re the only thing he has to offer in exchange for safe harbor. He thought getting to his destination would be the hardest part, hoping that once he got his family to safety everything would fall back into place; Louis struggles to adapt while his sisters thrive. Louis suspects Emperor Styles may have something to do with it.

Louis tried to imagine what was happening deep in the bowels of the palace. No doubt one the twitchy men who’d met with him had run off to find the Emperor, holographic palette in hand. Louis had no idea what the emperor looked like, but he could still picture the amazement on his face as the images of amaranthine crystals were made clear.

Louis’ heart thudded harder as he imagined the nameless, faceless Emperor’s breath catching in his throat, fingers reaching out to touch the holographic image, fingertips pushing against empty air.

It had to work.

Written for the @hlsummerexchange2017 

foothold →  ao3

Little Bird // Sirius Black

A/N: so, this got longer than I wanted it to but also short as well ? i started this with completely different intentions of where it actually went and don’t know if i really like it? but again, oh well. i wrote regulus as exactly as i imagined him to be - a mysterious, quiet, attractive young boy who’s kind of a rich spoiled brat who’s always doing what mummy says, but also has a rebellious, sly, flirty side to him as well and is just really good, ya know? so, i might write some regulus stuff soon? like a dating regulus would include or something ? but, anyways. i don’t speak french and only know basic words that you should know from every language really - like hello and thank you and i love you and colors and stuff. so, i was relying on google translate and hope its not wrong :) hope you guys enjoy this possible trash. 

Originally posted by nellaey


“Oh, darling,” your mother wailed. “Oh, don’t you look lovely?” 

You painted on a fake lopsided grin and ran your fingers over fields of beads yet again. A silky soft, beaded dress in the creamy beige color that reminded you of antique pictures and coffee with far too much sugar hung from your shoulders. Exquisite dress robes fell to your beige Louboutin heels. Your hair was curled into a halo-like updo and your face was weighed down with makeup. You looked just like every other pureblood girl your age did - elegant, intelligent, and wealthy. Except unlike those other girls, you had a Black family heirloom sparkling on your ring finger. 

Unlike those other girls, you were engaged to the future your mother had built for you - Regulus Black, a mansion on a hilltop, and a life devoted to filthy prejudice. Today, you’d catch a three hour long glimpse of the life you were destined to live at your engagement party. You’d be surrounded by people that were better than everyone else, on Regulus’ arm smiling at his witch of a mother, and flashing everything you had in everyone else’s faces. All of which sounded tolerable a year ago. 

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“Snowy Reunions”

WELP, LOOKS LIKE YA GET A ONE SHOT AFTER ALL BECAUSE….THIS IDEA CAME INTO MY HEAD AND WOULDN’T LEAVE!!

((Bad name? lol))

Word Count: 2,524

Warning: uh….mentions of prostitution…I think. That’s about it.

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Shifting Shadows

Hi babies! This is my first attempt at writing a Jonerys one-shot, inspired by the spoilers and events of s7. Leave a comment, I love those, tell me if you think I should write more, and yeah, enjoy!







When the little boat touched the shores of Dragonstone, Jorah Mormont jumped out of it and ran to the middle of the beach. The gloomy gray sky was covered with three large, fire- breathing beasts, whose song illuminated the island. Jorah jumped over the washed-up branches and twigs and saw Missandei and Tyrion waiting for him. The lady from Naath was wearing a dark green cape over a black outfit, pinned with a butterfly pin, and the little lion sported black, the silver of his pin clashing against the dark leather.

-Welcome back, Sir Jorah! I hope you had a safe journey. The Queen is waiting for you. – Smiled Tyrion, always the diplomat.

Small talk and catching up with Missandei helped him get back in the game and he realized where Daenerys currently was. She lost a huge part of her fleet, the Dornish were captured and the Queen of Thorns was gone. He smiled, imaging being the one who’d eventually comes to her rescue. He stared at the ships harbored at the port and was almost stunned. Most of the banners were the three-headed red dragon, some krakens, a rose now and there, a few suns, but the most shocking thing were two large ships with a banner he hoped he’d never see again. The gray direwolf on the snow-white background. What were Starks doing here? Didn’t the Young Wolf die a few years ago?

Climbing the stairs to Dragonstone, he was greeted by the emerald green beast. The Northerner couldn’t resist but wave. He noticed Dothraki celebrating on the beach. The Unsullied opened the doors and sober Dothraki escorted him to a large, well lit, dining room. It was decorated with dragon carvings, busts of Aegon and his sister-wives, it had a large fireplace, a gigantic table fit for a king, and obsidian sculptures. The first thing that stunned him was laughter. It sounded like bells or birds and filled the room. Three people were laughing, two men and, unmistakably, Daenerys Targaryen. Tyrion took his seat on Daenerys’ left. She was seated on the head of the table, as one would expect it. Tyrion was seated left, next to him was a grey haired man with a strong, Flea Bottom accent. Across him, Missandei took her place. The person next to Daenerys was the one who shocked him the most. His back was only visible to him, his dark curly hair was tied in a bun that was a mess, he was dressed in simple, but well-made clothes, but his doublet was draped on his chair, so he was just in a dark blue shirt, black breeches and boots. He was laughing with the Queen, their eyes never leaving each other.

She was beautiful as always. Her braids were a little bit loose, and she wore no coat over her dress, making her arms, shoulders and decollate visible. She sipped wine and wiped a tear. When she saw him, she got up, the table following her. The dark haired man turned around, revealing the strong, solemn face of a true Stark. His mind clicked. Ned Stark’s bastard. This must be him.

-Sir Jorah! – She walked to him, clasping her arms. Her cheeks were rosy and she was giggling like a young girl.

-How are you? Did you travel well? Come, sit down, you must be tired! – She left him speechless. As usual, the lump in his throat made him seem small next to this tiny young lady.

-I suppose you were cured? Sir Jorah?-

-Yes, Khaleesi, I am cured, and here, back with the Targaryen alliance.-

-Marvelous! Sit down!-

He sat down next to the man with the accent.

-I have to introduce to you Jon Snow, the King in the North, and his advisor, Sir Davos Seaworth, they are our guests here.-

Both men got up and shook hands with him. Jorah swallowed remembering Ned Stark’s bounty on his head. Does his bastard know?

-The King in the North? I thought those were extinct?-

-We thought the same for dragons, Sir Jorah. – Answered Davos.

-Jon knew you father, Jeor Mormont. He speaks very highly of him. – Smiled the Valyrian beauty.

She calls him Jon. Oh.

The King in the North nodded.

-Finest man I ever met. He gave me his sword, taught me how to be a leader… He was a true hero. I shipped his bones to Bear Island, and your young cousin, Lady Lyanna.-

He was just like Ned Stark. Right honorable, kind, keeps his sentences short. He was truly his blood and a Northerner to the core. They all sat down.

-Where were you cured and how?-

-At the Citadel. It’s a long and tiresome story, my Queen. Another time, maybe.-

-We’re celebrating a huge victory tonight! We robbed Cersei of gold and crops and took her brother prisoner, who is, as we speak, being treated for his wounds. And a random sell-sword. –

-He’ll serve you if you pay him well. And Jaime is a fool. Attacking a dragon with a simple lance. – Nodded Tyrion after his third glass.

Daenerys poured him a cup and handed it over through Tyrion and Davos. He sipped it carefully.

-We are also discussing terms of our alliance with the North.- She turned over to Jon who was finishing his cup, cheeks red like her lips.

-Yup. - Jon was never particularly good with wine. He starred at the bottom of the goblet. Was this his 4th or 3rd cup?

-What where you laughing about?-

-Sir Davos was telling us about his trials and tribulations as a smuggler.-

Jorah felt out place here. The most uncomfortable thing was the way Dany’s chair was turned. It was too close to Jon’s, but it was noticeable he also moved his chair. Missandei yawned and excused herself, leaving the small company for some sleep.

Jon and Daenerys were almost touching. He was subconsciously playing with a stray lock of her silver hair, she just glanced over and continued to speak.

-Tyrion and I drafted some plans to free Yara Greyjoy and install Sarella Martell as Princess of Dorne. The remaining daughters of Oberyn Martell are here with us. We considered to create one of the remaining Tyrell cousins as Wardens of the South as soon they arrive. We have plenty of time now, considering Cersei is left penniless and without food. We fed the troops and villages near Dragonstone, and a significant part is being shipped north. –

-The North is also a part of the seven kingdoms, Khaleesi.-

-Yes, yes it is. And I think it will be the most difficult one to conquer. – She mustered, emphasizing the word difficult.

-I agree with you. It shall be extremely difficult. - said Jon into the goblet.

They gave each other the look again as they shared a day ago, in a small cave. Tyrion picked up a knife from the beef roast and pretended to cut air with it as he proceed to cut off a large chunk of meat. Davos laughed into the cup and put it down.

-The King and I discussed yesterday how you have a good heart.-

She smiled and Jon almost spat out his wine.

-So kind of you two! Why do you think I have a good heart, Jon Snow?-

-Because you have a heart. And it is good. - Dany removed the goblet from his hand.

-Very good! - Said Davos, tapping himself on the chest. Tyrion chuckled.

-Sir Davos, are you willing to go for a walk? And you, Sir Jorah?-

The Onion knight laughed and got up, followed by the Bear. The lovebirds stayed alone. Jorah felt like leaving for a burial after he was escorted out.

The Dragon and the Wolf were left alone. Jon just realized he was playing with her hair.

-Oh, I am so sorry…-

-Oh no, it’s fine. –

He read between the lines and touched her hair again. And again. The violet in her eyes gleamed at his dark gray and he shivered.

-You are a complicated man, Jon Snow. You pretend to be simple, but the truth is, you are complex, like a human maze. – Her fingers grazed over his chest, and she bit her lip, drawing his eyes to her mouth.

-And you are the most stubborn person I have ever met, Daenerys Targaryen, and I have lived with wildlings. They should call you Daenerys Stubborn instead of Stormborn.-

-Are you staring at my good heart, my lord?-

He blushed, putting the strand down.

-No, I am not! - He said in a matter-of-fact tone. She just laughed.

-Will you ever bend the knee?-

-Never! - He slammed his fist on the table and took a large sip of wine.

-Really?-

He hiccupped.

-No, those lands belong to house Stark. House Stark alone. I am King now, one day, someone else will inherit my throne and life goes on I suppose…-

-Who will inherit the North? Your future child?-

-No, I don’t think so. Maybe Sansa’s child if she has any. But, you are right. I need an heir to ensure there’s no war after my demise. It is true what they say.-

-And what do they say?-

-A king is nothing without a queen.-

He pointed at her.

-You are a queen. I am supposed to be a king…-

-Is this a proposal, Jon Snow?-

-I’m too drunk to know…-

There was an odd silence.

-What do you want from me?-

-The obsidian. And an army would be nice.-

-No, I am asking you what you want from me. Daenerys, not the Queen.-

Jon was left in silence. He thought of Aerys and his grandfather and uncle, and then he remembered what happened to Dany, who was sold like a brood mare. Was it wrong to want a Targaryen girl? Oh gods, she was so beautiful… She was an ally, the threat was coming, and he got drunk in a castle miles away from home. He felt like a self-indulgent idiot. This was no time to fall in love and daydream about marriage and perhaps, future children.

-Would you like to have children one day?-

-I already have three of them.-

-I mean human babies, not reptilian ones.-

-I am barren…- She whispered.

-How do you know that?-

-I was cursed by a witch. When the sun rises in the west and sets in the east - she said sadly. -When the seas go dry and mountains blow in the wind like leaves. Then my womb will quicken again, and I’ll bear a living child. –

-I never believed in prophecies, and that sounds like bollocks. When I took the black, I never dared to dream about having a child. Now, if I survive this shit war, I’ll have 20 of those if I can.-

She giggled.

-Your poor wife…-

He smiled softly at her, a part of his initial hostility was gone. Jon wondered if Daenerys ever dreamt of having a child or two on her own, and how much it must pain her heart.

-After I conquer Westeros, I’ll find an heir somehow. It is scary to be the last of your name. Most people who lost their families decide to start their own, but I know I am not capable of that.-

-If your family made better decisions in the past, you wouldn’t be alone now, I suppose…-

-Really? I think its past overdue to talk about my family and the mistakes they made. What of your family?-

-My family?-

-Yes. How did Ned Stark die?-

Jon inhaled deeply. Part of him knew she was right and he hated it.

-We shall never surrender to you, Daenerys.-

-You? Or the North? Because if you are talking about yourself, I’d say you surrendered a while ago.-

-Oh? When did I allegedly surrender?-

She got up from the table and started going to the door. Jon jumped up and pulled on his doublet, leaving it unfasten. He followed her to one of the many balconies her palace had. Never in his wildest dreams had he assumed he’d be flirting and bickering with a queen in her palace. They were looking down on the Dothraki celebrating their victory. Pyres were lit, people danced and got drunk, it all seemed so peaceful down there. And calm. Almost made him forget about the threat in beyond the Wall.

-You know, my lords, Sansa, my sister, they all told me I should never go here, they said you cannot be trusted, that you would never let me go home…-

-Perhaps they were right. – She said, without a single smile.

There was an unexplainable silence after her words. It was almost comfortable.

-So when did I surrender?-

-You are a talkative and stubborn Northerner, Jon Snow.-

-No one ever considered me talkative. Or stubborn.-

-Oh really? Your men advise you to stay in Winterfell and you go to see me?-

-I needed your armies and support. I thought as a fellow monarch I could convince you to help us.-

-An ambassador could have done the same thing, Jon Snow. I am not difficult to convince when you follow and listen to my terms.-

-I told you, Daenerys. My people had enough. And I did not surrender to you!-

-You did in that cave! - She finally turned around from the balcony, taking steps to him. He took a step back into the shadows of the statue of some mystical Valyrian deity. –You looked at me as if you loved me from the Dawn Ages and became all concerned and protective when I went to battle! What is your plan?-

She closed her eyes and remembered a reoccurring dream. Sometimes she would close her eyes and dream of a lover, but it was never Jorah Mormont, Darrio Naharis, Khal Drogo or any man she met, she dreamed of; her lover was always younger and more comely, though his face remained a shifting shadow. The Mother of Dragons inhaled deeply; the air tasted sweet. The noise from the Dothraki was gone.

-You are testing my patience and tempting my fury, Jon Snow.-

-And you are entitled, Daenerys Stormborn.-

Her hands trembled.

-All I ever wanted was to avenge my family. Reclaim what was once ours, burry them where they’re supposed to be buried, I just want to right some wrong… Don’t you feel the same?-

Jon felt the duality of her words. He touched the moon of her hair again. Her lips trembled, as if she wanted to say something. He’d never remember what had gotten into him that night, perhaps the wine or the feelings he was not able to shake off since they’ve met. He grabbed her face and kissed her, and she kissed him back.

On the stairs of Dragonstone, Jorah Mormont was drinking some Dothraki brew, listening to Tyrion Lannister’s story how he brought a honeycomb and a jackass to a brothel. The Dwarf of Casterly Rock raised his goblet and was about to finish his story when the knight got up. Jorah felt his stomach turn. Jon Snow was ferociously kissing his Queen, her hands were in his hair. They parted for a moment, their foreheads pressing. The King in the North picked her up like a bride and carried her back to the fort. Tyrion stopped talking and followed Jorah. Davos got up too.

-Well, I’d be damned… - Said Davos.

-I have a feeling that diplomacy between our factions will go much smoother now, Sir Davos. – Grinned Tyrion.

Mormont remained silent. He suffered through her marriage to a Khal, her affair with Darrio, but this was beyond everything he expected. Davos decided to twist the dagger that was drilled deep into his heart by the young Queen.

-Will she take it well when we leaves to capture the wights?-

-She will. Her Grace is made of steel. Don’t you agree, Sir Jorah?-

Jorah remained silent.

-This is a onetime thing for her. She’ll move on like she does every time. Remember Darrio Naharis?-

Somehow, the Hand of the Queen comforted him.

Two days later, Jorah was suiting up for the fight. He glanced over and saw the Northerners dressing up too. And then he saw them. He hadn’t spoken to Daenerys since the night he arrived. She was walking next to Ned Stark’s bastard, a soft smile gracing her features. He listened to their conversation.

-You’ll sail with the Queen Rhaella that is your main ship, if I understood correctly to White Harbor, where my sister will be waiting for you. And then we’ll meet again in Winterfell.-

-Promise me you won’t do anything stupid. – She pulled out a moonstone pin out of her pocket, opened his cape and pinned it on the lining.

-Dothraki believe moonstone guards you from evil.-

They exchanged a soft, quick peck on the lips that no one saw and he smiled at her.

-I promise, Daenerys Stormborn. I promise.-

She hugged him and he squeezed her waist, picking her up lightly. They parted and he jumped up on that boat, waving to her. She waved to Jorah, but he didn’t have the strength to return the courtesy. The wind blew reminding him of his fate. Jorah Mormont was not meant for happiness.

when i became the ocean
i did not know that meant 
ships would come to port. 
i did not know the harbor 
would burgeon.
i count the sails before me
four to the eastern wind and
perhaps more on the horizon. 
i hear a vulnerable whisper:  
how can i navigate when 
i can no longer read the stars? 
at low tide, pulled back
and bare sand shown i feel
this naked trust that 
the sea in me 
is the sea in you
and if that is so 
you do not need the stars
for safe travels. 

archiveofourown.org
foothold
Louis has crossed the galaxy with a ship full of crystals; they’re the only thing he has to offer in exchange for safe harbor. He thought getting to his destination would be the hardest part, hoping that once he got his family to safety everything would fall back into place; Louis struggles to adapt while his sisters thrive. Louis suspects Emperor Styles may have something to do with it.
By Organization for Transformative Works

Title: foothold
Author: Anonymous
Rating: Mature
Words: 18,341
Pairing: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson

Summary:

Louis has crossed the galaxy with a ship full of crystals; they’re the only thing he has to offer in exchange for safe harbor. He thought getting to his destination would be the hardest part, hoping that once he got his family to safety everything would fall back into place; Louis struggles to adapt while his sisters thrive. Louis suspects Emperor Styles may have something to do with it.

Written for neonmoonlight for the @hlsummerexchange2017

Whenever I get sad, I just remember Korrasami is canon.

The fact that these two beautiful, bisexual women of color are in love will never fail to make me happy.

It’s my beacon in the harbor, and my safe refuge in a world that belittles, mocks, invalidates and hates LGBT women.

It is a ship that dared defied impossibility, as it stared it in the face and wouldn’t back down. It was our very own, fandom version of the Miracle of Istanbul, a great fight back when we were down and out and against all odds, only to achieve the most monumental of victories in the end.

Only this was much more important than football, mainly because this changed the course of history, and it’s all for the better.

After all, I never thought I would see the day when two people who looked like me, and share my orientation, would ever become the main protagonists on screen, or be the titular characters in any media. I was so used to being marginalized and ignored, and having to find my representation in other characters, even if I had little to nothing in common with them.

And oh, how happy I am to have been proven wrong. So when Korrasami happened, it was a defining shock to the system, with the most shocking thing about it being: it validated me. Suddenly, I was visible and I mattered.

And no one will ever be able to take that feeling from me, as I will carry it with me for the rest of my life.

And whenever I need a pick me up, I just remember that sometimes, the good guys do win in the end. And that Korrasami happened.

And that means the world to me. More than you could ever realize, and more that could be possibly conveyed through words. And I think that all of the words in the world still wouldn’t be enough to properly convey how much it means to me, and how much it’s changed my life for the better.

It’s the bounce in my step, the air in my lungs, and it’s the hope I carry in my heart. And it’s what will get me through the rest of my days.

I could write more about this, like how Korrasami has spoiled me and how I now have the minimal of expectations of seeing other wlw ships in the media and to be treated right (only to find those expectations are sadly, unrealistic). And I could write about how Asami carried me through the death of my father, as I used her as an outlet to vicariously release my emotions, and a source of comfort in one of the most painful epochs of my life.

And there’s more I could write about, but for now, I’m gonna leave it at this.

Every time I see those panels of Korra and Asami being happy and in love, I can’t help but cry, mainly because it gives me hope that I too, can someday find the love they both have.

not the stars, but ourselves

A/N: I’ve had a “Snow and Charming are being exhausting with wedding planning and Emma needs a break so Killian takes them out on the Jolly Roger and they have a secret wedding with just the two of them” headcanon for so long and canon gave me the opportunity to write this. Also I’ve had Killian’s vows written for literally a year and wanted to work them into something eventually so here you go.

Rated G, 1.5k words, FFN

It has made me better loving you … it has made me wiser, and easier, and brighter. -Henry James

Emma stood at the bow of the Jolly Roger, breathing in the relaxing scent of the cool, salty air. The wind was pleasant and the temperature surprisingly warm for how close the sun was to the horizon. Most importantly, the only sound was the creaking of the ship and the gentle crash of the waves below her feet. She loved her parents, truly she did, but with their arguing over wedding plans and their stubborn refusals to compromise even a little, she had just needed a break. Killian, being the incredibly intuitive man that he was, had suggested taking the ship out, and she had agreed almost before the question was out of his mouth.

She heard his footsteps on the deck behind her moments before he wrapped his arms around her waist and pressed his nose into the crook of her neck. Her eyes drifted closed, revelling in the peace and security of being in his arms.

“Thank you for this,” she murmured. “I know they mean well, but if I have to hear one more argument about where we should get married or what food to have or whatever argument they’re having now I might just rip my hair out.”

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I don’t think anyone could love (the way I love you)

a/n a post 5x23 Olicity reunion fic - some aspects, William wanting to be a firefighter, are inspired by @so-caffeinated and @dust2dust34‘s great Olicity verse. On AO3 here

He’s holding his son, his beautiful boy, in his arms, his head buried in his blond hair but all his mind is doing is screaming at him. Screaming to go back and torture himself some more until he knows for sure that they are gone, that even if he has son he’s lost. It’s like a pounding chorus running through his mind, singing, “Fel-ic-ity, Fel-ici-ty, Fe-ic-ity.”

Taunting him, tempting him to forgo reason, leave behind logic and let his heart rule the day but then he hears sniffles. He looks down and sees William, trying in vain not to cry.

“Hey, hey buddy.” He says in what he hopes are soothing tones and his son, god he has a son, looks up at him, takes a deep breath and says, terror clear in his voice, “Oliver, where’s my mom?”

Oliver bends down, carefully keeping him in his gaze. His son shouldn’t have to see the body of his kidnapper or the smoking ashes of the island, so he positions them in just the right way that William can see the smoke but not the fire.

“I don’t know but I know she’s safe.”

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2

Here’s a health to the dear lass that I love so well
Her style and her beauty, sure none can excel
There’s a smile upon her countenance as she sits on my knee
Sure there’s no one in in this wide world as happy as we

Our ship lies at harbor, she’s ready to dock
I hope she’s safe landed without any shock
If ever we should meet again by land or by sea
I will always remember your kindness to me