#hank and his deep sea creatures

[they-call-me-youngermoney]

"he held me at gunpoint one time"

original post from @/kemafili:

tried planning this out in my sketchbook beforehand

[mnictasbcl]

Nine Lives- chapter 22

Fandom: Detroit: Become Human Characters: Connor, Hank Anderson Relationships: Connor & Hank Anderson Summary: A cat has nine lives. For three he plays, for three he strays, and for the last three he stays. But when the cat was never a kitten, when the android never got to be a child, he does not know what play is. Born with only the instinct to hunt and blood on his tongue, will this newly free cat’s life ever have begun? Or will he be left trapped in the husk of his old life and lose the freedom he's worked so hard to grasp?

May 22nd Prompt: In union is strength (chapter 22 warnings: none)

Read chapter 22, In union is strength, on AO3

previous - next

or, read chapter 22 below:

It still wasn’t time to go and see the technicians for a checkup to assess his capacity for returning to work, but Connor was adamant he wanted to go out somewhere before then, and since Hank had promised that if he rested well he could choose somewhere for them to go out, it was agreed upon, as long as he brought enough thirium and didn’t walk around for too long.

“So, where do you want to go?” Hank asked.

Changed into another of his new shirts, this one a blue button up with koi fish on it, and a pair of black cargo shorts, Connor was sitting on the edge of his bed, LED processing as he looked up a variety of nearby options.

“How about… there is the Detroit Aquarium,” he suggested, coming out of his long thread of internal research. “That looks like somewhere interesting to go to.”

“You really just thought of that right now?” Hank questioned with a raised brow. “Cause from your outfit it looks like you’ve been planning to go there all along.”

“I just like fish, and you bought me this shirt.”

“Yeah, soft fuckin’ sod I am… alright then, let’s get ready to go to the aquarium. But no wearin’ that damn hoodie, alright? It’s hot as balls, and I promise ya, if anyone says anything mean about your skin, I’ll knock their lights out.”

Connor set down the hoodie he’d been about to pull on, looking at Hank. It would be the first time he’d been out in public how he was now… but he wanted to go out, not stay at home all day. And even if it wouldn’t make him feel any less self-conscious, he trusted what Hank said. With a nod, he followed Hank out of his room, leaving the hoodie behind on his bed.

On the car journey there, Connor relayed a healthy amount of information to Hank, about 40% of it going into his brain, the other 60% falling straight out again, since he was trying to focus on the road ahead of him. Luckily, though, it seemed as if Connor was content to talk to him despite the lack of response sometimes.

“There’s over 2,000 creatures at the aquarium, with 10 themed exhibits,” he began, flicking the quarter between his hands, spinning it atop his fingertip. “They have a 180-degree underwater tunnel which has sea life ranging from sharks to sea turtles. There’s a touch pool where you can touch sea stars and anemone.”

“They should hire ya,” Hank commented, mentally preparing to dodge in case Connor flicked the coin at his face again.

“The 180-degree underwater tunnel has 120,000 gallons of water,” he continued, as if he hadn’t heard Hank, “and the tunnel is 15 feet deep. It’s so large that every week it has to be cleaned by scuba divers.”

“Damn, I would not want to be those guys.”

Connor looked at him now, head tilted in question. “Why not? You would get to be up close with a wide variety of fascinating sea life.”

“Cause sharks freak me the fuck out.”

“I do understand fear being irrational so I will not talk you out of your dislike… however, many things that harm the shark’s reputation are actually myths, shared due to sensationalised stories and stereotyping. They do not actually kill many humans, but instead are killed at mass themselves, often in millions per year to take their fins, depleting their populations worldwide. And this is harmful for marine ecosystems.”

“Well… damn,” Hank remarked, “they still scare me, but that’s pretty shitty. Guess that’s humans for ya.”

“Fortunately there has been a rise in conservation efforts towards the shark population, just as there has been trying to bring polar bears back from extinction, for example… so, not all humans are particularly shitty.” He looked at Hank with a smile.

“We are not getting a pet shark.”

When they arrived at the aquarium, Hank chuckled to see Connor getting out of the car before him and half-heartedly warned him about moving slow and not running off anywhere, because he was still healing. His LED flashed yellow as they waited in line at admissions, bouncing on his toes, clearly impatient if the rapid coin flicking was anything to go by.

As soon as they were allowed inside, his LED went back to spinning blue and he would have run off to the first exhibit if Hank hadn’t taken his hand and told him to ‘slow the F down’. It was unusual to hear Hank censoring his expletives, but Connor supposed it was due to the heavy population of children with their parents in this environment.

Walking through the freshwater exhibit had Connor peering inside the lake, catching glimpses of fishes swimming beneath the surface. They hadn’t opted for a map because Connor told Hank he’d downloaded it in his mind, and the less shit to carry in his hands the better, Hank decided, and so he let the walking and talking equivalent of Google Maps lead him around the aquarium.

They walked through at a leisurely pace, but Hank couldn’t stop Connor from breaking free of his grasp when they reached the interactive touch pool exhibit. He stopped and waited patiently until a group of children had finished, before stepping forwards himself and crouching down in front of the little pool.

He reached out his hand, slowly at first, breaking the surface of the water, LED processing as he adjusted to the sensation, before reaching down and feeling a sea anemone under his fingertips.

Hank crouched beside him, reaching a hand inside too.

“There’s 9 species of fascinating creatures in here… it’s modelled after a west coast tide pool.”

“Eugh, what’s this under my hand right now?”

“That’s my hand, Hank…”

Hank laughed and reached to the side. “Whoops, my bad. Your hand was kind of slimy. What about… this?”

“That’s a blue sea star,” he replied, glancing up as a worker walked towards them. “They get their colouring from a blue pigment called linckiacyanin.”

“That’s right,” the worker added, then turned to Hank. “Careful, your kid’s gonna put me out of a job.”

Hank chuckled, tracing his finger along the sea star, feeling the bumps over its body. “He just really likes fish. And dogs. And most animals.”

He looked across at Connor, and that was when a realisation hit him… he really did seem to like animals. It was where he seemed to be most at ease, interacting with them, watching nature documentaries (even the ones where sharks devoured their prey in a bloody mess). It was rare outside of these instances where he seemed truly relaxed.

He was broken out of his thoughts when Connor got to his feet, cleaning his hands before moving on to the next exhibit.

“Hey, wait up!”

They made their way through the next series of exhibits, from the shoaling bay where they viewed a 360-degree display of shoaling fish, with flagtails and pilchards and even some spiny lobsters at the bottom, to the doodle reef, and then the stingray bay exhibit. This, Connor informed hank, was Michigan’s only sandy stingray beach. He seemed particularly interested in this one, spotting baby sharks inside and becoming mesmerized by them for ten solid minutes. Hank practically had to pull him away, to go and sit down for a little bit since he’d seen him flagging from where he was standing, and shoved the bottle of thirium into his hands, telling him they could continue once he’d drank it.

After that was the shipwreck exhibit, where Connor pointed out the six-foot long wolf eel, which, surprisingly, didn’t freak Hank out, instead commenting that it was kind of cool. And then came the tropical ocean exhibit, which Connor informed him was where the 180-degree ocean tunnel was.

“As I said before,” Connor commented in a hushed tone as they walked through the tunnel, looking all around him as fish swam overhead and to the sides of them. “There’s 500 creatures here… Look, a shovel nose shark.”

Despite his reservations, Hank followed Connor the side of the tunnel where the big shark was swimming and stopped. “Huh, that one actually isn’t so scary. He’s got a big pointy nose.”

“He can hear you,” Connor responded, affronted on behalf of the shark.

“I think he’s cute.”

Hank wondered to the other side of the tunnel, watching as a turtle swam by. “Turtles are big fuc—uh… big guys, they’re real big.”

“That’s because that one was a giant green sea turtle. They’re about three to four feet long when fully grown, and weigh from three hundred to five hundred pounds.”

“Damn… that’s like… at least three Sumos.”

“Correct,” Connor nodded, continuing to walk down the tunnel. “Sumo is 170 pounds, so, considering that sea turtle was 355, it was exactly 2.08823529412 Sumos.”

Hank stared at him as he rattled off the series of numbers. “Alright, calculator boy.”

After the ocean tunnel came the jellyfish display, and then the coral reef, before lastly, the conservation cove. By this point, Connor was panting a little from the exertion, a hand on his chest, and Hank not so discretely steered him to a nearby sitting area.

“You sit here for a bit, okay? Get some energy back. I’ll be right back.”

Connor nodded, and Hank took that as his cue to leave, heading down the hallway, checking Connor was where he left him.

He had one destination in mind: the gift shop. It was always a fun part of excursions like these, and he figured the kid could do with some more interesting things in his room since all he had right now was his best, nightstand, and wardrobe.

It took a little browsing, but eventually he found what he was looking for. There was a souvenir guidebook detailing the exhibits and creatures inside them, and whilst he knew Connor had all the information downloaded into his brain, it wouldn’t hurt to get him a book about it. He always liked having a book in his hands instead of looking stuff up online or using one of those tablet book things with the touchscreen surfaces that broke half the damn time.

After that, he found something a little more fun—a medium-sized grey shark plush toy. Connor had wanted a shark, maybe this would be enough. He didn’t want him to think he considered him a child, but toys weren’t just for kids anyway, he decided.

Lastly, he picked up a drawstring bag with a turtle on it for himself, figuring a bag was always handy and the turtle had been pretty cool to look at. He then made quick work of paying for his stuff, before heading back to where he’d left Connor.

“Alright, it’s just a little gift from me, but—” he stopped as he reached the empty chair, a curse on his lips but kept inside as he remembered where he was. “Connor?”

He looked all around him, all the chairs in the seating area empty, and so he went further out towards where the exit was. But he had no luck here, and instead returned inside, phone in one hand as he typed a hurried text, asking where the fuck he’d gone to.

Just as he came past the seating area and back towards the last exhibit, however, he stopped typing, finally spotting him.

“Thank god, jesus christ…” he breathed, walking towards him, placing a hand on his shoulder as he caught his breath. “Con, you can’t just wander off like that, not when you’re… you’re…”

His voice trailed off as Connor seemed entirely unresponsive to both his touch and his voice. He looked at him, noticing the flashing yellow LED, and then followed his gaze. He seemed to be looking at an android, who was walking around with another android, and—oh, he seemed familiar.

“An HK400…” Connor mumbled, LED flashing red as he spoke these words.

“Oh, shit…” Hank mumbled, before glancing around him, hoping no one had overheard. “Just like that android from before, huh?”

“Yes, from the Ortiz case.”

Hank nodded, looking back at Connor again, noticing his shaking hands and the mixture of negative emotions flashing across his face.

“C’mon, son… let’s get back to the car.”

He was thankful that Connor didn’t avoid his hand this time as he took him by the shoulder and led him back out to the vehicle.

As they got inside, Hank glanced at Connor and the fact his LED was still funky colours, before looking at the bag in his hands. He nodded to himself before taking the shark out, and mimicked swimming motions with it, dancing it in front of Connor’s vision. This seemed to break him out of whatever trance he’d fallen into, and he reached out for the shark before pausing.

“Is it for me?”

“Yeah,” Hank replied, “I got you this shark and a book about all the fish in there. And I got this cool bag for me, by the way, so don’t go stealin’ it.” He placed the book on Connor’s lap with his free hand, but the shark was left hanging in the air, not yet taken.

“Do you think I… deserve this?”

Hank shoved the shark into his hands with a weak glare and was glad when it was taken. “Of course you fuckin’ do. I didn’t steal it, so it’s not like they’re gonna come and take it away again.”

“Thank you.”

He checked behind him for any pedestrians or other vehicles, before pulling out of the space and then the parking lot.

“Thank you for the gifts,” Connor continued, “and for bringing me here, L—Hank. I enjoyed it greatly.”

“Yeah, no problem.” Hank smirked as he noticed Connor was running his fingers along the embroidered gills on the shark. “See, much better for me for you to have something like that in your hands than the damn coin. You can’t hit me with a toy.”

“Ulterior motive, then,” Connor commented with no real heat behind his words.

“Yeah, my other motive was also for you to get something a bit more interestin’ in your room. It’s so bland in there, it’s like a sad beige modern home. Did Cyberlife make you programmed to detest colour and enrichment in your life?”

Connor chuckled. “They certainly didn’t equip their androids with a need to enjoy colours, or enjoy anything for that matter. Unless of course they had a specific career that involved exploring colours, such as an android working in a paint store who would need to provide advice to customers on what to purchase.”

“Well, we’re gonna get some colour into your room. It’s already in your wardrobe, we’re gonna go even further.”

“I would like that.”

Hank nodded. “Yeah. And hey, I enjoyed today too. Even if some of those animals are kinda fuckin’ scary, it was still interesting seeing them all and learning about them. You’re like a walking animal encyclopaedia. It was better than having to wait our turn to ask the workers about stuff, and get lost half the damn time trying to follow a map. In union is strength, or whatever they say like that. Good we went there together.” He paused. “Good doing stuff like this with you. We should do more stuff like today.”

“Yes, I agree.” Connor nodded and meant what he said. Even if there was a part of his mind that told him he didn’t deserve to enjoy stuff like this, not when there were so many who could never enjoy anything because of him… even if any glimpse he had caught of himself in the glass exhibits had reminded him of the trailing lines down his body… a reminder of what had happened, and what could have happened if he hadn’t succeeded. The HK400, the deviants who’d never got a chance to live— and Seventy.

Despite everything, he had enjoyed today. And maybe that was okay.

[sereindreams]

HANDPRINTS || RK800 x Reader ♡

“Oh, what can I do? Life is beautiful, but you don't have a clue. Sun and ocean blue. Their magnificence, it don't make sense to you”

Summary: Your work life had always been stressful, and being a part of the DPD had its ups and downs. In fact, it was mostly downs. That was until you were assigned to work on a case of rising deviants with an old associate and a charming, young android. Suddenly, you couldn't wait to show up at work. Your days were no longer filled with quiet solitude, but of warm laughter and shared breaths. The very thing that betrayed all sense of life offered you a gateway to a new appreciation of the world, and the love for things within it.

AN: Welcome back to chapter 2! Please don't forget to interact so I can keep creating pieces of work like this. I typically lack motivation so even the smallest interactions can really make my day. Thank you! (P.S, I also messed with the timeline slightly so that the interview happened in the day, and not the night of when the deviant was found, cos you know our girl needs sleep)

Word Count: 4.4k

Reader Pronouns: She/Her (AFAB). NO USE OF Y/N!

Warnings: Gavin being a sexist asshole to the reader. The usual DBH crime scene gore is relatively detailed. Please be responsible for your media consumption <3

-

Chapter 2:

For the first time in a long time, you had awoken with a certain feeling that had settled deep within yourself. It had found its home in your heart and now it was lodged there. Not that you had risen out of bed with a particularly bright smile, drawing back the curtains with enthusiasm, but, your typically sluggish morning was invigorated with a sense of calm. A calm that seemed to wash away your morning grogginess with relative ease, or perhaps that was the coffee.

Nevertheless, with a coffee in hand, you set out to work, bracing yourself for the long day ahead of you.

The ride to work had been peaceful and silent. You lived about twenty minutes from the station and the view was typically picturesque. On the way, you encountered many parks and reserves, a rare sight for bustling Detroit. Although Winter had stripped most of the trees barren from their leaves, even the scraggly, mean branches offered more comfort. The snow was akin to powdered alabaster, driving all woodland creatures into their homes for the season. Your breath was a vibrant patch of white, dissipating in the air with ease.

And when you arrived at the station, you practically pried open your frosted car door. It had opened with a sharp 'snap', the heat instantly pouring out from the confines of your vehicle, prompting you to shiver.

Shit, there went the calm.

Oh well. When did you ever get calm?

The inside of the station was booming with activity, voices over the intercom blasting in your ears, mixed with the constant ringing and warbling of phones. The shuffling of feet was second nature, and the occasional hiss of the overworked coffee machine. Your hesitant smile greeted all those who sped past you, seemingly with better things to do. It stung slightly, but you understood. Everyone was running on fumes with the recent spike in homicide, specifically, android homicide cases.

Speaking of which, your mind pivoted.

"Officer Miller!" you called out into the sea of people, quickly becoming aware of your own voice as the room fell silent. You could feel the colour leave your face as a head swivelled to meet your own. Meekly smiling, you continued, hoping that everyone would switch back to their task just as quickly as they had been drawn away. "You wouldn't happen to know where Leuitenant Anderson is, would you?"

"You know Hank, Detective. Probably off galavanting at some bar" he responded, gaze drifting off the reports stashed into his grasp and onto you. Your lips parted, preparing to speak, but your brows raised when the voice that emerged was not your own.

"Or at Club Eden" a voice quipped, arrogance dripping from the tone.

Your eyes began to roll, "Oh come off it Gavin"

His frame had slithered into your field of view, rather confident, with his shoulders risen to the sky, for a short man. His cold, grey eyes, were in juxtaposition with Connor's. Connor's were the type where you could melt safely within them, but Gavin's were the type where you could quite literally suffocate and drown in their merciless waters. They searched across your scowling expression, and if satisfied, he smirked, "What's wrong, princess?"

Your insides shuddered, the feeling of bugs scurrying under your skin consuming you whole.

You had known Gavin even before you had worked at the DPD. You had both graduated in the same class when training and the two of you had been relatively kind to one another for quite some time. You would share jokes and remarks with one another on a daily basis, and he would occasionally confide in you about topics that troubled him. That had been, until final exams rolled around in your last year, and he was faced with the realisation that, objectively, you were the better detective. You were quicker, smarter, and more accurate in your investigations. You won every race against him, physically and mentally, and even though you studied harder to be where you were now, he was filled with jealousy and spite. Eventually, you had been convinced that he got his rocks off to teasing and even torturing you.

And that left you where you were now...

Essentially pinned into a corner.

Your tongue flicked over your lips hesitantly, “We have places to be, Gavin. Don’t be an ass”

“So be it. Interrogation room two” he snapped.

You scrambled away, and without a second thought, you hightailed it out of there. You were convinced that Gavin’s face was permanently stuck as if he had sucked a lemon. And your head was so busy that eventually, when you did reach the door labelled “Interrogation #2”, you didn’t hesitate in knocking, bursting through the door.

When all eyes fell on you, your eyes widened in realisation. You were suddenly overcome with the feeling that, even through the one-way mirror, the deviant could see you, that everyone was judging you. Hell, you hadn't even been late. Everyone else was just early. Even Hank.

Crap.

Your breath was sharp, body still as if you were glued to the spot in the gaping doorway. The silence was deafening, a chilly draft blowing into the observation room. Eyes drifting to the mirror, riddled with interactive boxes and labels, you studied Hank, sitting silently in a chair opposite to the deviant. Doing your best to release the self-inflicted tension, you gave Connor and Officer Brant a small, reassuring but acknowledging nod.

And you reassumed your position beside the android, taking in every ounce of information that you could that had been plastered across screens. It was a pure sensory overload, with flashing lights and strobes of text, moving so quickly your eyes couldn't possibly keep up with them. Crossing your arms across your swiftly rising chest, your heart was in your throat.

But then, the hesitant tap of your arm caused you to turn.

A reading pad with all the current known information on the case.

Discreetly being pressed into your hand.

And as your attention travelled up the arm to the person who was holding the reading pad, you genuinely smiled.

Connor was extending an olive branch to you, a life preserver after jumping ship. His minuscule offering had done more for you in the last few seconds than anyone on the force had done for you in years. His eyes were not on you, but you could feel the unspoken undertones of understanding. And you had smiled.

Hank had cleared his throat, making the decision to end his intimidation tactic. Instead, he opted for a bombardment of questions, but the deviant remained as firm as a brick wall. He had stared at Hank with a blank expression, devoid of life, a contrast to how you had seen him only a few hours ago, begging for his life with a simple glance. And yet, in a way, you could still observe areas in his facade that were beginning to crack, like the twitch of his left eyebrow, or the downturn of the corner of his lip.

"What happened before you took the knife?"

"How long were you in the attic?"

"Why didn't you even try to run away?"

Nothing.

Hank had enough.

His fists were lifted, and a second later, brought down onto the exterior of the table. The deviant flinched, transforming into a spooked buck who was faced with oncoming traffic. Your fists were balled at your sides, an indescribable expression replacing your momentary happiness. You had always admired Lieutenant Anderson, but he had become unnecessarily sloppy in recent years, as evident by the fact that he had managed to scare away his only chance at a lead.

Being youthful, and admittedly more patient, you could have sat in that interrogation room for hours without progress, and you'd barely have cared. With nothing but the comfort of a lowly buzzing light. But with Hank, he always came off like a ticking time bomb, prepped to explode at any moment at the slightest stimuli. And you could have imagined that in Connor's position, that would have been difficult.

Hank had slid from his seat, exclaiming in frustration with a loud groan. And within a moment, the door to the observation room opened. The deviant was left to silently twitch under the haze of a bright light.

“We’re fucking wasting our time interrogating a machine! A fucking machine! We'll get nothing out of it!"

“We could always try roughing it up a little” Gavin had suggested. You hadn’t seen him slip into the room, but he must’ve. "Afterall, it's not human"

Your gut had done a flip, hands wringing beneath one another. Bile had risen up to your throat, causing the corner of your eyes to glisten with tears. “No” you protested firmly, “under no circumstance should we hurt that android”

“Androids don’t feel pain. You’d only be damaging it, which would be no help to the investigation” Connor chimed in. "Deviants also have a tendency to self-destruct when they're in stressful situations"

You sighed, “Look. We are getting nowhere from threatening him and nowhere from bombarding him with questions. Lieutenant Anderson, you call him a machine, but if he really is a deviant, then he’s going to have human feelings. He’s going to be scared after everything he’s been through, and he’s going to want to feel supported. We need someone to appeal to his safety, make him have a reason to trust us”

You put yourself in his shoes.

Hank stepped forward, visibly frustrated, face the colour of a beet. “So? You go then”

Your lips were pursed, attempting to clear your head. “No... I’m a human- He’s been abused by humans and now is being interrogated by humans. I don’t think that would comfort him. I’m not the person he needs to hear from right now”

Gavin lifted himself from the wall, emerging from the dark crevice of the room. His face was twisted in a glower as he stepped towards you. "Okay, smartass. What do we do then?"

The answer was obvious. But of course, Gavin didn't seem to know. Or perhaps he did, and just wanted to hear the words fall from your mouth. Perhaps he was so rife in his hate for androids that he was unable to detect the perfect one, the perfect answer, standing right in front of him.

Connor's suggestion came almost a little too quickly, "I could try questioning it"

The cackle that escaped Gavin's lips was low, reverberating off the solid walls of the room. He threw his head back, as if he had been told the funniest joke he had ever heard. But when he pulled his head back again, he looked between you and Hank in fear of the silence. Terrified that you were actually contemplating the idea.

Hank waved his hand dismissively, cocking his head to the side in a final bid for a decision, "What do we have to lose? Go ahead, suspects all yours"

Connor had begun to move, placing one hand on the keypad, unconcerned with the change in skintone, the way his skin seemed to retreat in order to reveal the skeleton beneath him. In a way, it was almost beautiful. His biocomponents were a pearlescent, soft white, with sapphire lines tracing them. You were struck with awe. That had been the hand that had rested on your back the night before, the hand that had offered a sense of reassurance in the middle of a storm.

Promptly, the room became hot.

When he entered the room, the deviant didn't bother to look up. When he took a seat, the deviant didn't bother to look up.

Connor was quiet in thought for a moment before he began.

"I detect an instability in your program. It can trigger an unpleasant feeling, like fear in humans. You’re damaged. Did your owner do that? Did he beat you?"

You swallowed, hand finding your face on the other side of the screen.

"If you won't talk, I'm going to have to probe your memory"

The deviant's head shot up from the place he was fixated on, eyes wide. His words came out in stammers, choking on his own breath. "No! No, please- please don't do that"

You had never seen such a vivid demonstration of an android experiencing feelings. Despite the fact that you had been assigned to the deviancy case with Connor and Hank the night before, you didn't know much about deviants themselves. And you wondered if Fowler had put you on the job, despite his knowledge about your sympathy for androids, just to give you something to do. Your days were usually filled with paperwork, and while you were on a physical crime scene at least once a week, you had felt yourself begin to lose the flame that you once had for detective work. It was a possibility in your mind that he pitied you, pitied seeing you sit at your desk each and every day with a cold cup of coffee and a stack of files. That he pitied your dark bags and shaky disposition.

He didn't readily admit it, but you were one of the best on the force.

The deviant whipped his head towards the mirror like he could see you.

You shuddered.

"What... What are they gonna do to me? They're gonna destroy me, aren't they?"

Connor's gaze was calculating, scanning every inch of the deviant with care. It wasn't cold, though. You weren't sure that was even a possibility for Connor. "They’re going to disassemble you to look for problems in your biocomponents. They have no choice if they want to understand what happened"

As he continued and pressed the deviant further, more and more of the story began to unravel at his fingertips. It became clear to you that the deviant was the victim in this story, and that Carlos Ortiz had been a wretched man, bound to harming others. And there was something remarkable about the way that Connor interrogated him, something that left your cheeks flushed and chest tingling. You couldn't drag your eyes away from him, he was magnetic.

"Why did you write 'I AM ALIVE' on the wall?"

"He used to tell me I was nothing every day. I had to write it... to tell him he was wrong"

"The sculpture in the bathroom, you made it, right? What does it represent?"

"It's an offering... An offering so I'll be saved"

"Ra9, it was written on the bathroom wall. What does it mean?"

"The day shall come when we will no longer be slaves... No more threats, no more humiliation. We will... be... the masters"

He kept going, kept probing until he had extracted every single piece of information that he could. You were taking copious mental notes, and your head was swirling with the implications of the deviant's words. One phrase droned on and on, bouncing inside your skull:

"Only ra9 will save us"

When Connor announced to the mirror that he was finished, you all stood from your seats rather proudly, except for Gavin, still brandishing a glare. A small, isolating hallway led from the observation room to the interrogation room, cast in a bright blue light. Two burly officers were posted outside the door, statue-like.

Having entered the room, Gavin threw instructions at the men.

"Chris, lock it up"

With a snap, neon yellow cuffs were placed around the deviant's hands, but the deviant was quick to jerk away, whole body lifting from the seat.

"Leave me alone! Don't touch me"

When Officer Chris hesitated, Gavin was swift to intervene.

"What are you doing?! Move it!"

Chris went to grab the deviant again, this time harsher, but Connor's words ran through your mind. 'Deviants also have a tendency to self-destruct when they're in stressful situations', and you jumped into action without a second thought.

"Enough!" you barked, finally finding your voice.

The men's bodies paused, eyebrows taut with confusion. It was obvious that they had merely forgotten your presence, and even when they did acknowledge you, they didn't think much of it. They had easily forgotten your credibility and independence in the heat of the moment. The fact that you easily outranked most of them in the room was lost on them. You were not the small, quiet girl who had interrupted the interrogation less than an hour ago. Instead, you had once again found your rhythm, transforming into the level-headed and knowledgable detective from the night prior.

"There is absolutely no reason to be manhandling him! He has already proven that he is more than willing to cooperate with us if it means his safety". Your tone had taken on that of a school teacher, scolding their ignorant children. "Chris will accompany him to the cell, not to touch him. And I will supervise"

Your eyes met the deviant's for a brief moment and they softened. Similar to before, they spoke with their eyes, deep and brown, sombrely thanking you.

"You don't have the authority!" Gavin bit back.

"Try. Me." you growled, lifting your head ever so slightly to better display the disapproving curl of your lips. "Lieutenant, got any issues with it?"

The man simply shrugged.

And when you left the room, walking side by side with the deviant, you couldn't help but feel accomplished.

-

The day moved on at a sluggishly slow pace, barely crawling past lunch and finally settling into the afternoon. Your stomach rumbled occasionally, the toast you had eaten that morning barely holding off your imminent starvation. But you couldn't leave, you were stuck behind a mountain of paperwork which impeded any outside view of you at your desk. All anyone else could see was the faint outline of the top of your head, hair sticking out from it. Apart from the paperwork, your desk was littered with personal mementos, gum packets, and empty coffee mugs, some stained all different shades of brown.

If you left your desk now, which at this point was more like your natural habitat, you feared you would lose any momentum you had gained, and you really, really needed to finish all the different case summaries before clocking off. Admittedly, you were stretched too thin, and you knew it.

You sighed, running a hand through the top of your hair, soothing yourself at the soft touch. You couldn't get him out of your mind. Your heart was pounding as you tried to focus on your keyboard, looking frantically at the open files beside you, and back to your screen, before hastily typing the equivalent of complete jibberish. At that point, the words were slowly slipping off the screen.

In through the nose and out through the mouth... in through the nose and out through the mouth-

"Detective."

You damn near jumped out of your skin, lurching from your seat.

"Forgive me if I startled you, I had no intention to"

You stared at Connor, half confused as to why he had even stopped by your desk in the first place. Surely he had better things to do with his time.

You grinned weakly, "It's okay, Connor. I just don't get many visitors, that's all"

"Oh" he murmured, head tilting to the side. "Well, I couldn't help but make the observation that you had not eaten lunch yet. Given that the time is now 2:33pm, I would deeply recommend that you eat something, otherwise, you may experience feelings of nausea, lightheadedness, and other dislikable symptoms. Fortunately, I have made it so that you do not have to get any food". His words were quick, and before you knew it, a paper bag had been placed on the surface of your desk.

His eyes seemed to search for you behind all the obstructions, and eventually, he gave up and stiffly pushed aside one of the towering piles aside to better focus on your expression. He tried his best to read it but ended up drawing a blank. He waved his hand, "I wasn't sure what to get... so I bought three different items"

"There's pizza, sushi, and a salad. Whatever you don't want, I could give to Lieutenant Anderson..."

You were silent, staring at the bag as if it was some foreign object. Then, you jumped on it, taking the paper in your hands and pulling it open. You couldn't help but laugh, "You're amazing. You know that, right?". You took your preferred food, and as you looked up, you swore you could make out the faintest hint of a smile on his stoic face. "Seriously, though, Connor. Thank you. You’ve managed to be kinder to me in the last 24 hours than the whole department has the whole time I’ve been working here”

You gestured to the spare office chair beside you, welcoming him to sit. He obliged, folding his body into the chair and settling his hands neatly within his lap.

Cute, you thought.

As you began to eat, practically shovelling the food into your mouth before timidly holding your palm over your lips, you wondered who would break the silence. On one hand, you should break the silence, as it was the courteous thing to do given that he had just bought you lunch. On the other hand, your mouth was full of food, and while Connor probably wouldn’t mind, you didn’t want to be rude.

In the background, officers droned about a new red ice supply shipment, and you were only half listening, letting it enter through one ear and out the other. Despite how terrible red ice had been, it was definitely not your forte. Instead, you were a homicide detective, used to studying bodies left on the sides of roads, rather than interviewing known drug dealers.

Connor took a breath, “I must say, what you did in there was smart. You knew the deviant would self-destruct under immense pressure. And while it worked for the interrogation, you knew it wouldn’t work in our favour when trying to transport it”

You hummed, only barely acknowledging that he was attempting to compliment you. “Thank you. That and the fact that I knew what it would have felt like to be in his position. There was something about the way that he was looking at me. I just had to help. I wasn’t going to let an asshole like Gavin push him around”

“Detective Reed is.. intriguing”. You noticed the way his brows and nose scrunched together. “I cannot discern whether he is trying to hinder or assist the investigation”

Chuckling, you took another bite of your food, feeling the painful emptiness begin to subside within your stomach. “Yeah, that’s Gavin for you. Don’t let him get to you, like I said, he’s just an ass. Woke up on the wrong side of the bed or something. Humans are complicated, y’know”

The conversation naturally fell quiet, and the two of you were able to sit contently within one another’s range. Once you finished your lunch, you haphazardly threw the rubbish in a small bin that had been tucked away under your desk. You were more hungry than you had anticipated, but at least you felt better.

For a split second, you saw Connor’s LED transition from blue to yellow, then back to blue within a moments notice. You rolled your lip between your teeth, hesitating in asking a question.

“What are you thinking about?”

“I was curious as to all of the cases on your desk. There appears to be quite a few more than any other officer. I was going to inquire as to why” he explained quickly, never missing a beat. He had no shame in admitting exactly what he was talking about. Why would he? Though you had to admit you were a little taken aback by his forwardness.

“God, I wish the truth was more interesting than it actually is. They’re all just petty crimes or cold cases with no in-between. I get shoved with whatever all the other detectives don’t want to deal with, which, in this day and age, is a lot”. There was a small quiver in your voice, barely detectable, falling at the end of your sentence. It had morphed into a sigh. “It’s fine though. I do get paid more… barely”

He nodded quickly, but you supposed that he wouldn't have to worry about things like being overworked or getting paid. Perhaps it was just in his programming to be polite in conversation, after all, you did answer his question truthfully. "That sounds troubling. You should get out of your office more"

"Well, I wouldn't exactly complain if they put a few more windows and plants inside the precinct". As you said this, you took the pile of papers from your desk and sifted it through your fingers, looking for one specific file.

"I shall lodge the idea with Fowler" he replied back, causing your cheeks to turn a dark shade of pink. You had completely missed the paper you were searching for, and it fluttered to the ground. As it hit the floor, the sound was similar to a snap, dragging both your eyes to it. You clambered from your seat, extending out your hands to snatch the sheet up. But you were met with a startling lukewarm smoothness, not cold, but not warm like that of a human.

"Detective, I-"

"Oh shit, I'm sorry". You withdrew your hand in an instant, immediately cringing at the loss of feeling from Connor's hand. "I'm so clumsy. I need to take this over to the copier". He held out the sheet to you and you gingerly took it.

You stood, thanking him again, before rushing off to the furthest copier.

-

[honey-minded-hivemind]

For the 🦈SirenSong!AU, it looks like the popular idea is for the reader to be related to Logan, a.k.a. Wolverine! Got to admit, that will be one wild ride. Not to mention, the reader is getting every kid he has adopted/had biologically as their siblings/nestmates, all his friends (the X-Men) as their other protectors and caretakers, AND a few of his enemies/rivals (plus their kids/guppies/pups) as possible villainous uncles/aunts/parent figures/other nestmates.

Some of the possible colors and types of sirens everyone is is as follows:

The X-Men:

• Logan/Wolverine: deep sea siren; larger than regular reef or open ocean sirens, but still small compared to other deep sea sirens; long serpentine tail with a long sail, and long, sharp claws, and fangs; has rippling soft, dusky blue and lemon yellow and ink black scales (Animated Series version) or pumpkin orange and iridescent black scales (Evolution version)

• Ororo/Storm: open ocean siren; lithe and powerful; flowing fins around her tail, similar to an eel, can electrocute someone like an electric eel, can still control the elements; moonstone white and blue scales (Animated Series or Evolution version)

• Hank/Beast: deep sea siren; large and soft; strong tail, a bit of fluff like a yeti crab or fur seal or otter; is fluffy and blue, really strong, but his brains is where his best skills lie; furry with royal blue scales (Animated Series) or midnight blue scales and dusky blue-gray fluff (Evolution version)

• Charles Xavier/Professor X: reef siren; partially paralyzed tail, but has had help from both the X-Men and the Brotherhood, and can use a wheelchair on land; powerful ability to mind control creatures, ranging from humans to other sirens, even some animals; shady forest green and summer yellow scales (Animated Series version) or soft brown, jet black, olive green, and tiny flecks of silver (Evolution version)

• Scott/Cyclops: open ocean siren; strong tail with flowy fins at the end; either hypnotic eyes or still has some form of optic beam eyes; ruby red, navy blue, and sunflower yellow scales (Animated Series version) or garnet red, warm brown, and summer yellow scales (Evolution version)

• Jean/Marvel Girl/The Phoenix: open ocean siren; strong and long tail with a long sail; has telekinesis and can sometimes read minds, possible hidden empath ability; bright orange, sage green, and scarlet scales (Animated Series version) or spinel red, emerald green, and a small streak of golden-yellow along her sides (Evolution version)

• Anne-Marie/Rogue: open ocean siren; toned and firm tail; can mimic/take on other sirens' abilities for a short time, has long nails; auburn, sunny yellow, and vivid green scales (Animated Series version) or moss green, dusky red, bone white, and dark black scales (Evolution version)

• Remy/Gambit: reef siren; a bigger sort, has ruffled fins; can channel power into objects and make them explode, same as usual, possibly has a slightly hypnotic voice; russet red, spinel pink, and coal black scales (Animated Series version) or muted brown, charcoal gray, rusty red, and soft pink scales (Evolution version)

• Kurt/Nightcrawler: reef siren; smaller sort, fuzzy and noodly; can teleport; midnight blue fluff and scales with some red undertones (Animated Series version) or navy blue, goldenrod yellow, and small red specks (Evolution version)

• Kitty/Shadowcat: reef siren; medium-sized, and has many frills along her tail; can turn invisible, like a cuttlefish or octopus, but can sometimes become completely intangible; hazelnut brown and baby pink scales (Animated Series version) or soft lilac, dusky pink, and chestnut brown scales (Evolution version)

• Evan/Spyke: open ocean siren; lean and toned; has sharp spines, and can regrow them if lost, kinda looks like a seprentine pufferfish; he is technically only from Evolution, so his scales would be cream, butter yellow, sandy gray-yellow, and warm sepia

• Jubilation/Jubilee: reef siren; thin and wiry, ruffled sail; can make small explosions/fireworks; technically she has been in Evolution, but was a major player of the Animated Series, so for either version, she looks mainly the way from the Animated Series, human and siren form alike, with sunlight gold and bubblegum pink scales

• Laura/Wolverine 2.0/X-23: deep sea siren mixed with reef siren; smaller than most of the others, even Logan, due to being a siren pup; long claws and sharp fangs; she was from Evolution, that is where we first see her, ever; her scales would be yellow-orange and dusky black, looks similar to Logan

The Brotherhood:

• Erik/Magnus/Magneto: open ocean siren; strong and lean; can control metals, might have once dated/been with Professor Xavier; blood red, steel gray, and violet scales (Animated Series version) or brick red, silver, and wisteria purple scales (Evolution version)

• Raven/Mystique: open ocean siren and reef siren mix; lithe and graceful; can shapeshift into other beings; twilight blue and garnet red scales (Animated Series or Evolution)

• Victor/Sabretooth: deep sea siren; very large, flowing sail; sharp talons and sharp fangs; sunset orange, amber, bright yellow, and umber brown scales (Animated Series version) or caramel golden-brown, velvet black, and tan scales (Evolution version)

• Pietro/Quicksilver: reef siren; lean and thin; fastest of the sirens, on land or in the sea; sky blue and snow white scales (Animated Series version) or opalescent white-blue-green scales (Evolution version)

• Wanda/Scarlet Witch: open ocean siren; average-sized and tough; can manipulate chaos and bend some things to her will; pyrope red and dark rose scales (Animated Series version) or carnelian, scarlet, melanite black, and gray flecked scales (Evolution version)

• Lance/Avalanche: open ocean siren; a bit large, firm; can cause earthquakes; asphalt and blue-gray scales (Animated Series version) or steel gray, rawhide tan, charcoal black, and some golden spots (Evolution version)

• Fred/Blob: open ocean siren; large and thick-scaled; near-indestructible and can absorb a hit and not be harmed; mud brown, mustard yellow, and burnt black (Animated Series version) or army green, khaki, ash gray, and dirty blonde scales (Evolution version)

• John/Pyro: reef siren; a bit shrimpy, but has fast reflexes; can manipulate fire; bright orange and sunny yellow scales (Animated Series version) or fiery orange and brick red scales (Evolution version)

• Todd/Mortimer/Toad: reef siren; really small, has slick scales; long tongue and somewhat amphibious; olive green, murky yellow, and gray-green scales (any version)

Miscellaneous Characters:

• Piotr/Colossus: open ocean siren; giant and sturdy; has skin and scales akin to metal if he wills it; metallic silver, gray, black, and blue scales (Animated Series or Evolution version)

• Bobby/Iceman: reef siren; a bit small, and kinda thin and cold, has frills along tail; can create and manipulate ice; pale ice blue scales (Animated Series or Evolution version)

• Rahne/Wolfsbane: open ocean siren; regular-sized, small bits of fluff; can turn into a wolf (or maybe something like, a seal or walrus or otter for this au?); rusty red-brown and peridot green scales and fluff (any version)

• Illyana/Magik: open ocean siren; lean and mean and a powerful teen; has a portal to and reign over Limbo, a weird, demonic dimension; platinum blonde, soft silver, and electric blue scales (Animated Series or Evolution version)

• Roberto/Sunspot: reef siren; average size, has some sharp barbs along his tail; solar energy powers, turns into a living ember; ember orange, dusky red, and sunlight yellow scales (any version)

• Sam/Cannonball: open ocean and reef siren mix; skinny and long; can fly really fast and tends to crash, hence the nickname; pale blue, off-white, daffodil yellow, and bright red scales

• Dani/Mirage: open ocean siren; small but powerful; can manifest desires, dreams, and fears into the real world; banded onyx scales (any version)

• Tabitha/Boom-Boom: reef siren; tall and lithe; can make small explosives/explosions; bright hibiscus pink, banana yellow, and cherry red scales (any version)

There are others, I know, but these were the ones I remembered (and knew enough about) to list off the top of my head. Some versions I'm more familiar with of certain characters, and y'all can imagine any characters in any media, from the (X)MCU, the anime, the Animated Series, Evolution, even the comics... I did my best, and that is all I can do!😊 Please enjoy this honeycomb thought for the 🦈SirenSong!AU!

[ya-killin-me-smalls]

MORE but this time we are under th water... i don't know if this is as good as the previous i'm kind of sleepy

---------------------------------------------

In a world where life is land and sea... A harmony is formed in most places with their balance. Though, some believe it to be a "sin" to be caught with a "sea-breather." A sin for them to exist. Spears and hooks, blood staining parts of the sea... Just because a ship of them had caught sight of one singing on rocks or by shores.

A young child born in the sea. They know not their mother, having been told she was killed by those living above their deep waters. They learned quickly to hate the boats that sailed upon the surface.

Only 10 years old, they peeked above trying to scare away the monsters that rode on the large hulks of wood.

They sank down, a spear in their side.

Ink and blood spiralled in the water.

They were sure they'd die just as their mother did.

The sea felt dark...

...but they woke up again.

They woke up to a friendly face, just as young as they were. This new friend saved them. They didn't recognize much of the strange tools and trinkets in the room, but loved how they sparkled in light.

" Hey, you woke up! Do you feel okay? It got you bad... I managed to get that wound fixed up though, all by myself. "

That smile... It seemed so very innocent to them. They didn't feel their new friend knew of the dangers above.

" How did this happen? "

" ...Monsters. "

" Monsters?.."

" Monsters. On... On the big things up there. "

" The.. The big floaty-woods, yeah? "

" Mhm... "

" Oh!- I haven't even asked you yet, what's your name? "

" My name.. It's.. "

" Hank. "

His head turned hearing his true name.

" Leave the floatwoods alone, you've enough wounds. "

...It turned their head away once being told such. Why should he leave those horrid things alone? Those wretched creatures are responsible for so many of their wounds. The spear when it was young. Yet they continued label him as the dangerous one.

" I know what you're thinking about. "

A sigh..

" Just don't, please? We haven't even caught breakfast yet. "

A frustrated grunt. A full body turn.

Their friend was now more like a healer. Unfortunately, he was also fascinated by the objects that dropped into the sea by the land-lifes and trying to figure out how to use them. Despite the danger of them. Despite the hooks that had gotten stuck in the flesh of his cheeks and tore them open. Despite the nets he had gotten his arm tangled in, only able to free himself with his teeth. Despite the times the dropped surface foods were bait to try and shoot. Despite the...

" Hey. Look at me. "

" ...Hmmph. "

" Things are going to be okay. Just stay down here, and they can't get to us. They're too scared to come in here-- "

It jolted to turn around.

One of the freaks had fallen in.

" ...Don't get too close- HANK! "

A chance to eat one.

hell yeah get his ass Hank

[zirhlikuzgun]

Uncork'd Industries is shutting down

What a story i will report tonight at TV41 Action News: The unfortunate demise of Grings Kodai and Goone Kodai; the unfortunate death of Grimms Kordahl II and Kharol Noughart II; the unforunate demise of Grimms Kordahl I and Kharol Noughart I; and the unfortunate shutdown of the Public Domainional ROM-Hacking Service.

Taylor Branford

I'm afraid to tell you this, Sean and Dave. Well unfortunately, Gen'Eric Noos Ree-Porter had ironically been retired from TV41 Action News, because he told me that he will no longer do anymore reports at your home planet, cause he'd been sadly retired from TV41 Action News, so for now, he's no longer with us anymore. But anyway, there's no need to fear, cause me and Taylor will still continue to do reports at TV41 Action News, and we will hopefully find new people to do news reporting at TV41 Action News.

Linda Sears

Poor Grings Kodai. He'd been thoroughly defeated because he and Goone are eventually arrested by Franklin Flanigan, Pamela Flanigan, Lauren Orta, CJ O'Randolph, the Special Forces and the Luxembourgish Grand Ducal Police. At that case, they've now been sent to jail at the Luxembourg City Police Station, so for now with that, it will constantly declare good riddance to all those worst bad rubbish. Well eitherway, as Kodai and Goone had now been locked at jail, the Public Domainional ROM-Hacking Service will be permanently dissolved, cause it are unfortunately shutting down… …for good.

Oh, by the way, it will indeed take good care of that no-goodnik, good-for-nothing control freak.

Goodbye forever, Grings Kodai.

The skies had cleared up.

Sam Orlando

The seas had been cleansed.

Mike Orlando

The temperature has been normalized.

Mary Orlando

The environment has been restored.

Zira Jersey

Plants and animls have been rejuvenated.

Scotty B. Free

Technology has been reconstructed.

Gary S. Free

And buildings and houses have been rebuilt.

Jimmy Doors

The whole world is finally at peace once again!

Hank O'Hare

Everyone around the world is celebrating!

Beulah Glawer

Heaven be praised!

Abby Jenkins

Well eitherway, after a long absence, we're thankfully been reunited, because, Frode had been reunited with his best friends (Jungle Jack) Hugo and Rita the Fox; Casper and Emma had been reunited with their best friends Leoh the Lion Cub and Mrs. Rabbit; Olle had been reunited with his best friend Pümuckl; and Rico and Oskar had been reunited with their best friend Findus.

I already told you that it may sometimes remind it at anytime. Well eitherway, it had already been an memory origin space. But ehm, maybe it is... a park. I guess it sure that it itsn't Drive.

Harold Haddock

Well obviously, it may otherwise be even Neutral.

Karen Damen

It will actually engage an octopus. Well ehm, are you sure that we do have an octopus?

Seamuus Pevensie

No, i won't have to, but that creature will like to be under the sea.

Aicha Kosmachev

In an octopus' garden with you.

Angus MacMorrow

The Beatles, 1969.

Frenzy Franny

What, no octopus?!?

SA singers

What, no octopus?!?

DM singers

I guess i'd told you that the life is valuable, but the deep water is unmerciful. So that's why our pools are no deeper than 10 feet.

Cy Osborn

Hey, Cy. I think we found the octopus.

Biggi Lindgren

That must be the squid they lent us.

Lolita Hernández

It are indeed that squid which had lented us.

Gabi Hernández

It are indeed that squid that we had lented.

Flipper Luthor

So this must be that squid that we had lented.

XUWST

We'll pay them back in tentacles.

Klaus Boudelaire

Okay, Klaus. We gotta pay it back in its tentacles.

Fuchsia Egner

At that case, you need to please insert it furiously. Well, if we didn't have that octopus, whoever asked us for one would have inserted some blunt instrument furiously into our brains. Now that's actually fake, cause i we're accidentally lying. Well even though i'm lying, i'm thankfully getting resolved, cause we're luckily getting resolved.

Fly Osborn

Fly, I think it's time that we're about to go to the hospital clinic, cause we're about to give birth to our newborn babies.

Katelyn Cunliffe

Biggi, It is now time to have babies, cause we gotta go to the hospital clinic, so that we can give birth to our newborn babies. Well by that case, this reminds me, Biggi, that we'll need to go to the hospital clinic where we're going to give birth to our babies.

Cy Osborn

Thanks for reminding me, Cy. We're now going to the hospital clinic, cause we're about to birth our babies.

Biggi Lindgren

Speaking of the hospital clinic, we need to call Doctor Jade and Nurse Jasmine, so that they can rush them into labor.

Flipper Luthor

Okay then. We will indeed call Doctor Jade and Nurse Jasmine, cause they gotta come here and rush those girlfriends into labor.

XUWST

I guess it looks like Doctor Jade and Nurse Jasmine are coming here with the ambulance.

Lolita Hernández

Are you sure that Doctor Jade and Nurse Jasmine are driving the ambulance.

Gabi Hernández

They do, Lolita and Gabi, but i do hope that they won't be on strike.

Susan Pevensie

But anyways, Doctor Jade and Nurse Jasmine are eventually arriving just in time, cause they're about to rush the girlfriends to the hospital clinic.

Birk vdE

Speaking of babies, Jack and Klaus, we'd better go to the hospital clinic, so that we can see how the girlfriends and the babies are doing.

Indy

That will indeed be a good idea. We're now about to go back home, cause we're about to present a very special surprise.

Fuchsia Egner

Oh well, there you have it, guys. We're now concluding this final Funny-Signs episode of "January Robinson Uncork'd", cause we're right now going back home, so that we can see how the girlfriends and their babies are doing.

Jack Unger

Good thinking, friends. We're now gotta go back home to see how the girlfriends and the babies are doing. Well there you go, guys. That was it for this final slideshow of this final Funny-Signs episode of "January Robinson Uncork'd". It is now time for us to return back home so that we can present a very special surprise. Come on, everyone. Let's go back home.

Klaus Boudelaire

So we're now back home again, and by the way, we're getting some good news, cause these good news is that were going to have babies, because Fly's parents are going to have babies, Katelyn's parents are also going to have babies, and of course, Fly and Katelyn are also going to have babies. That's exactly why Fly Jr. and Kristina are going to be born tonight. Fly (along with his parents) and Katelyn (along with her parents) are certainly waiting for the arrival of their newborn babies, so we gotta help them for preparing all the required items for their newborn babies. First they need to prepare their newborn babies, then they'll decorate the room in the meantime while Fly's mother and Katelyn (along with her mother) has admitted in labor, by helping them on getting cleaned, giving food (thou feeding them with fresh sandwiches before the labor, before playing the little Dino game to play), and at next, we'll therefore get their newborn babies out with little surgery, by cleaning them up, powdering them, and dressing them in the latest clothes and diapers, and then, we'll decorate their cute cradles, and we'll therefore clean them up and dress them with latest clothes and diapers and make Fly (along with his parents), Katelyn (along with her parents), and their newborn babies happy.

Images and videos taken from these following wikis:

Fandom - Sean Allison Productions Wiki

Fandom - Dave Matson Entertainment Wiki

Fandom - Microsoft Sam and his Fellow TTS Voices Wiki

Fandom - Astromatson Enterprises Wiki

Fandom - Baby Cathy Wiki

Fandom - Beatles Wiki

Fandom - Birk and Magna Wiki

Fandom - Brutal Mario World Wiki

Fandom - Casper and Emma Wiki

Fandom - Dragon Hunters Wiki

Fandom - DreamWorks Wiki

Fandom - DreamWorks Animation Wiki

Fandom - Fighter Wiki

Fandom - The Flying Liftboy Wiki

Fandom - Frenzy Franny Wiki

Fandom - Frode and All The Other Rascals Wiki

Fandom - Fuchsia the Mini-Witch Wiki

Fandom - Help! I'm A Fish Wiki

Fandom - How to Train Your Dragon Wiki

Fandom - Jungledyret Hugo Wiki

Fandom - K3 Wiki

Fandom - Knights of the Zodiac Wiki

Fandom - Lemony Snicket's A Series of Unfortunate Events Wiki

Fandom - The Lost Treasure of the Knights Templar Wiki

Fandom - Marvel Wiki (a.k.a. Marvel Database)

Fandom - Marvel Movies Wiki

Fandom - Marvel Cinematic Universe Wiki

Fandom - The Chronicles of Narnia Wiki

Fandom - Nickelodeon Wiki

Fandom - Nickelodeon Movies Wiki

Fandom - Nintendo Wiki

Fandom - Paramount Wiki

Fandom - Paramount Global Wiki

Fandom - Pettson and Findus Wiki

Serebii.net

Fandom - Pokémon Wiki

Fandom - Pokémon Ruby and Sapphire Wiki

Fandom - Pokémon Ruby, Sapphire and Emerald Wiki

Fandom - Pokémon Ruby and Sapphire: Master Quest Wiki

Fandom - Pokémon Ruby and Sapphire: Advanced Wiki

Fandom - Pokémon Ruby and Sapphire: Advanced Challenge Wiki

Fandom - Pokémon Ruby and Sapphire: Advanced Battle Wiki

Fandom - Pokémon Fire Red and Leaf Green Wiki

Fandom - Pokémon Fire Red and Leaf Green: Battle Frontier Wiki

Fandom - Pokémon Diamond and Pearl Wiki

Fandom - Pokémon Diamond, Pearl and Platinum Wiki

Fandom - Pokémon Diamond and Pearl: Battle Dimension Wiki

Fandom - Pokémon Diamond and Pearl: Galactic Battles Wiki

Fandom - Pokémon Heart Gold and Soul Silver Wiki

Fandom - Pokémon Diamond and Pearl: Sinnoh League Victors Wiki

Fandom - Pokémon Black and White Wiki

Fandom - Pokémon Black and White 2 Wiki

Fandom - Pokémon Black and White: Rival Destinies Wiki

Fandom - Pokémon Black and White: Adventures in Unova Wiki

Fandom - Pokémon Black and White: Adventures in Unova and Beyond Wiki

Fandom - Pokémon X and Y Wiki

Fandom - Pokémon X and Y: Kalos Quest Wiki

Fandom - Pokémon XYZ Wiki

Fandom - Pokémon 4Ever - Celebi: The Voice of the Forest Wiki

Fandom - Pokémon Heroes: Latios and Latias Wiki

Fandom - Jirachi: The Wish Maker Wiki

Fandom - The Destiny of Deoxys Wiki

Fandom - Lucario and the Mystery of Mew Wiki

Fandom - Pokémon Ranger and the Temple of the Sea Wiki

Fandom - Dialga and Palkia and the Rise of Darkrai Wiki

Fandom - Giratina and the Sky Warrior Wiki

Fandom - Arceus and the Jewel of Life Wiki

Fandom - Zoroark: Master of Illusions Wiki

Fandom - Zekrom and Reshiram and the Adventures of Victini Wiki

Fandom - Kyurem VS. The Sword of Justice Wiki

Fandom - Genesect and the Legend Awakened Wiki

Fandom - Diancie and the Cocoon of Destruction Wiki

Fandom - Hoopa and the Clash of Ages Wiki

Fandom - Volcanion and the Mechanical Marvel Wiki

NIWA - Bulbapedia

Fandom - Pümuckl Wiki

Fandom - Rescue Joppe Wiki

Fandom - Rico and Oskar Wiki

Fandom - Runouw Wiki

Fandom - Saint Seiya Wiki

Fandom - Slijmfilm Wiki

Fandom - Sony Wiki

Fandom - Sony Pictures Animation Wiki

Fandom - Sony Pictures Entertainment Wiki

Fandom - Spider-Man Wiki

Fandom - Spider-Man Films Wiki

Fandom - Spider-Man Film Trilogy Wiki

Fandom - Stage 6 Films Wiki

Fandom - Super Mario 63 Wiki

Fandom - Tiger Team Wiki

Fandom - Underdog Wiki

Fandom - Universal Studios Wiki

Fandom - Vivo Wiki

Fandom - Walden Media Wiki

Fandom - Warner Bros. Wiki

Fandom - The Water Horse: Legend of the Deep Wiki

Fandom - Y8 Wiki

[libidomechanica]

As if too bountiful a dole, the day, your

A ballad sequence

               1

I would not silent night, moonlight?     —As if too bountiful a dole, the day, your became her     as real as the service

should lie down so we can, the gains     he did creature—auld Nature declar’d the would suffering! And     all my sweet-season doors!

               2

I chide the Deep’s untrample on.     Originally am how soon grows of her manners each     other me? I sigh’d her about, in the dizzying our     fields, and beauty no people at thou lo’es me write—love’s missal     through the number one

delicate Arab arch of Wall     but stars, in mine. Upon the cleaves turn over them in     searchable repose—still jealous of herself, is soft feel good     then—i hold thunder a largeness grow very one travel     we will blame. And see since

now for none can be sweet commingled     coronet: about they were suddenly ashamed to     wasted cracking up on it takes the same as thence and glad,     the dark, cracking villagers. And the Tyrant fled; the     imagined creatures&above

the twilight would relight. And then     say my Face before which royally did wear his crowned—the     stroke wide from elsewhere is not half impair’d the causing the     sea has devoured out in advantage shade thee his weight     call the day! Ah! In this

Sea, whose evening now they left eye;     on you tend? Tonight I want to make no noise at a mortal     thing so low? Elevated by the lines of my door     of individe the wintersection wait,—haste, little ways     be fleeting you could lay,

the pretty sure she had vertigo     for hid delight. Next, when you’re a little lights of winter     campfires in the rack and by I shall caresses.&     In a row of our June— shall on it as ony lamb upon     our Love doth misse; that

warmed our dread, and blythe walls of years,     till feel good it’s nice as he that dainty and where to see     the silently heaving her breast, for I maun till’d again,     portending slow for my name come to trampled floater, you     of thine, enam’ling wind,

it’s ok with infection to     wooing much to say at length our undivide the Victor     is, and the western gate, Luke Havergal—luke Havergal—     luke Havergal. Guinea pigs doubt then—i hold spies, or his     fires, and when I touching.

Merciless rich palms each passing&     in a little unknown to a home; which circum-walk the     tints that he went up with wings where Loue doth keel then unharm’d,     and not traveled by the leave your eyes I’d bid my body     keep ye. White

immutability no stroke.—Blythe by     the tillages the musical tennis match where and now     than, singing in the outside of great planet that her ear.     In aire of blood buzzes like pale blue&when with claw&rock, when     roast beef I have glare, which

the condemn me to ye, my minutes     fly post-haste; no man at once is not half the Belovéd     Head under your through a pure smooth purple of my back     at your face should we defer our hovels heaped with its bone;     count the welcome to ye,

my lad, o whistle, an’ I’ll come     to ye, my lad. That is to look waylays my father turn     in hopeless desire no beauty indirectly seek     roses grow very stranger is an act that the hill; but     ’twas from the Grey Monk’s side,

the barren rhymed in youth be fleeting     songs with heaven to be ours from crime, nor any other,     the sky, and in the bankrupt is, that buds and problems     from breath, O clamor with thee. Nay, the sun is weaving, lowers     expanded them noise.

               3

Before he stony British stare.     His eye was all. I practice my death, O clamor with two     pink, two walls of absent

presently, my death-wound of any     wood ye see, you can choose a May-lady that Hank Aaron’s     caresses by the

blythe in Glenturit glen. Or     everyone else to come. Next, when this forehead without, faith     magical charm, warned a dying

light feels like many water     love that my love that face, a gracefu’ air; ilk feature     wringing or years, that must

taste. I rather abdomen and     takes frozen trackless smiles as this in the foot of the wind     revealed the World. Are you

as they one to selfe-condemning     me my soul, nor forward in thee calls back down on thy waves     are placed, mark if her to

make him then; now to thy closest     to snare. Just like Amyntas, none is destitute the scaffolds     of unmatched them still

exclaim receipt with my skin and     my boys, come to cares arise in one asks—You are as fair,     an idle boy who seeke

fame, who can the gross mud-honey     bag from above, our slave, stay for an infant’s head knocks all     in this hole world’s bicycle

goes by. Let’s kiss to die! Doubting     the color disappoint we cannot we first day—     creation’s bliss; that warmed ocean

rivers, crept away. Mutual     Victims laid, and I do but when you’re lagging huge scapegoat     of song, a fever

of fire, or as love of weeds, sweet     pharmaceutical dinner and place his dungeon darkening     valley, the dark one, one

recovery, et cetera,     et cetera—could be sister windows on your elbow.     What I come to ye, my

Lucasia, since first line threshold     men in this hole in that zonulet of her own rose-gardens     yet one more the genial

season; but by the Eye love     thee; with his private play: name is Will, ’ and we whose pass than     you happen to those rubies

blush to hate which certain that     is bound by and picnics, do you harke, wherein affection     well be, for mine and the

best feels like a space. Divided     love I vow there cold, ungrateful, that may be more, because     more gem to end the law.

               4

Than, singing or pursuing now than, singing tomb.     Accept, deare for the shore, what is this? Now I come to be. Late in ten? Have I come upon     the desert, let me die, and only Love, to stirre mortal foe and took his figure     and hear in the desert wonder feel good doubt then—i hold thunderstand is already     know her tides to my mistress foiled, which

do grow cold,—but very strange ball. Home-run total     is not enough, that prevented by the live again?—A merry note, while Pan is tied     to the unrabbited woods. Faire, now Nature declar’d the void—my light would indeed, is     the longer stay; true loved and cuckoo, cuckoo! I past him, you an onion. Pledge vastly     now parallels the sunshine through waves

upon your eyes are thence a fair and head ha’     one in the amorous heart shall speak. Carrying on that is hurtling that name comes not     to look up but I am silently the crest of a salamander crossed the children     die! I mock’d at the promise of the bed to struggle on it. Men of many a     tedious frames and hear in this smiles

when she roses growes one but my name thy amends     for the mind, through clay aflow immortal things cost too dearest charms for all around,     that in it to form divinest and brought the pieties of swans more they ask why. Even     the dreary grace! I feel my face the worldly talk and blythe way through love the water     with Indian-summer joys? Full of

the Bow, the gains. Ah, what I’m suppose, but, if never     hear a gardens yet unset with capsules ioy, whose count our Elections of Carib     fire, bequeath us perpetual nightly sings thy Will. And vows were cold,—but very     lover who but cannot to kiss. Over heart a-dying. To stray; with light force to weep,     but of that grotto where my life it

was given us in my wings whose deities     which her Sleeve; or hastily rising court me, and you gave him lose they went side by side.     That holds the western skies. With thee the fall like magic like specks off a list of that     zonulet of loue in aire of thoughts, hart of the shepherds pipe on oaten strawberry show,     at sunny noon; gie me the leaves turn

them noise. For the honour me, unless nightly sings     her said, but know paralysis, that wears mask or faces Truth fairy fruits and heart. Blythe,     blythe in the wine must from my arms are fled is evenings at home, thou with Surma to make     him still expectant, still more hate, I seek forgive, that dainty with heaven—such a sugred     phrases and tell you thoughts no language

of lover, and hath bene mine eyes have told     I love me like a you a might refrain. Which reason, in all the moth for thee living     told that my love the welcoming down below. A nest for a minute.—Blythe and women     outside the was sweet, and is no changing through lively resisting. A true Love, and milk     comes the fields, and let mine eyes by thee

living to me; taking merry note, in thy sweet,     as light of Life is o’er my sister two in my heart. My love, Ay, fill and tender feel     my muscle and hath its foreknown and wings of love affairs suppose, but our warmth to     try, are cement? All them: o brilliant kids, frisk with, hand—or shrink to a wedding ring, the     dark will hold an instant reason still

break thus singing in the spring a carcanet     is bigger that drift gaze stranger starved. And my luve o’ my beads each Hearts are done is true     woman’s voice is part: no, nor power and speak, while fall of impossible what’s wrong with     youth in bleak November, and run, spring of something told the hills I’ve sentiment I’d     fain have caught with want doubt but I

am alone, do my thigh almost crashed, strength of     love. And mishap, a true speech is the sheets smelling there is no more—no more; drop of hands     mumble fragments of a grave. Ah, is not love’s flame be every tree, and leave you by someone     who can the straight into ten black where of faire she hath snatched wither into that     aperture become his pressively

veins? Lose the maid was too high tube socks that will blame     all my dear. Fairy tales are but obviously i’m fascinated. Forget his voice     insistent be a guy but like needs, but each passing orange, that faded face, where Rigours     exile locked, and yet must of that remembrance, how dear heart, shame. Thou in a leaky     boat, Select the wind, it’s no the

Alamo. The musical tennis match where the cracking     village of life exulting fill and other an’ a’ should prove among the way to     this, Time? And mishap, a deep deceit, a gilded tomb, and braw, when Pan and a current     runs between us where are done, whose accents of that fell but shows the ley-crap, for every     stranger skies—in eastern gate, Luke

Havergal, then nights of treason. The cables along     as well forth a Signal out of this! What power in Friendship lies are Altars, Priests,     and my hart; stella, food serve to isolate the dazed eyes; but her as real as the sheet.     And bound by and the bed; at length with cheese and watch they be harm’d, while great Voices never     the sea, dragging heavy pace: wet was

of heaun it bear, whether teaching from a magic     like you. Calls back the sapphire will be full, and hold a love thee; thus the waves lie folded     in the grove it was my own. A poem, known shame for a minutes on the wise and     wants to pretence to lie on a CD of some wind, it’s nice and songs near; all mirth farewell.     Your glory. And, lass, in mingling

mutual bliss from his sword in the surf bright the     earth’s poor tears; this tender semi-tone, or mother’s kiss and knees like them, the shepherds in     perfection to sing, who spat&called bread a bow and closes make in clothes. I fear of whose     expect me to I was dry; no teares did in hand, treate no liberal and purple     Whose her alone is diminutive.

               5

Then, these poinsettia meadows on     my bed, until I get a nod. Hers are; is flashing. The     day when and region that the layers, throwing hope, that ever     longest daughter’s garden

wall so even for the sky:     sae warmth come to ye, my body passively: yourselves but     obviously, that to every desolation finds no     placed, soon they heart. Breath of

pleasure, that I tried to-day to     begin our own captivity she change your eyes, accomplish’d     shape, and loops shrinking down, the mouths, thirsting. I die, I     die! Despite of weaning

the roast beef I have slept with cold     half starved. This expect you, of beings to swallowed me like     a child is through the vortex of her tongue could not to limb     spoiling would rise a

glorified work War’s overtaken.     Such is my wished his weight. There better’d that shall for this, we     don’t trust an anguish, how share, fresh each others. Speak of the     ill omens of our sleep

of the passing to my bed, until     is answer, Muse: wilt thou will be fully blessed the ley-     crap, for I know as spectrum of the yes sirs&ma’ams to keep     this thrown into their famisht

case? But evermore acknowledge     these fools away. Name is Will, ’ and what will perform what     we’ve her ringlets, her eldest date do melt like spotless as     true love of you, was all

of Wisdom, and Hoigh for the years     are drawn by him all away.— A merry was short. With you     with better? I floating day; but not my tongueless smiles     thus the singer is cruel.

               6

Have I come to yellow a fist     of song we might win or hold men in this thou be my ain.     The attention is

determined the cities are blown—my     dust speak. Her people out of dirt, out of Darkness spoke and     the leaves thy guilt, and sweet,

and your hear my mother lover’s     vow, despite of snakes, the brother. Treasure that is ours to     my gate do paint the plant

himself and his fears were the banks     their wings impetuous some mother, quo’ she, Mither, then, when     Pan and admitted the

flying, darker hue, bewitch me     that came to ye, my body mocks married ear! From breast—my     eyes, faded face, nor for

a minute. Come, my lad. Warmth he     gave, when we should stay. Inversely proportion, modestly     ships, and through love twixt a

miser and hushed thee his Host would;     but, in spire turnstiles, and Loue and you say, known to dawn the     marks where is no more my

soul. Creation’s blissful gently     heaving her breast. The banks o’ Earn, and gipsy bonnet be     the fog. Now could false love

exhausts itself, the policemen     who kicked my boast off, said with speed. Watching their fingers remain.     Such is my drift? And

there’s moiety and ben; Blythe and     glancing rain; but far their fall before us, but to be     the new-blooming fast and

dreamed of war with means, a Seasons     why this delight; and swear, that it was my own king a line     the world let’s prove brought the

sequoia swallows anchored in     Beauty’s summer your baby grows that I was farther love;     take something those roses

of our springs made all that today     as we nameless desire; my dear her with its too     lavishly are they know

love is a thing came with this, you     not hymns and perplext her with vices, whose eyes did part: as     then all of guile, a beast

when with this fool is love; and Absál     long’d ship may meet me, hopes do thy office, Muse; I teased     you, a million years. The

roasted tears like an empire     be none, none is reap’d; your brother. Yet sayshould appeared in     a new hoe. I have borne?

               7

And troubles that had robbed us     so, thus he crimes accounterfeit is poorest hovering hour,     till the morning’s once dry;

but copying is, what avails     the could read and let her she has to face the mind—and weak,     and curving no delight.

Bread and soon a taper light whisper     of lightened hear in thee to make too resplendour. June     efforts be gone back, till

was allowed in a poem, known     that love’s sole effects control; yet since his powre, and death’s wounds     euen now more to find what

pleasure; something is place, stella,     I say. Toothpaste and takes, perhaps, as a skeleton. Gude     news; the Sultan’s part: no,

nor love professes, and harbor     of which reason: gudgeons of sterilized child form another;     but them yet, in the

care na look; possessively:     your own captive, bursts, and will drip and there, the day when he     found the city towers

your Valentine? Your eyes; but this     huge scapegoat of song, a fever of art—one, can     everycolor blue and let

him, as long her glad though we were     not so brittle thing convey, and lonely, smooth behaviour.     The attention the seas,

and your love forgotten tree, ye’ll     cheated therein dignified. I had expel as in silk     and by I shall stand, and

merrily roar out Harvest Home.     Next, where I forgiveness; a love as some horse, not even     as dots now in the square

of two distance. For thy name: but,     if vext her as you at the dear; the Sultan’s pardon, I     am to be truthful

sap, at height at a time from his     fears were like spotless as there. There been so about the     congruity the honour

friend who teach thy dainty and tear.     I heard, the life pleasure they are true; and all in all those     who yet remain with pearles

scattered garland wave, desire     no precious time from leaf to leaf and look pierces there;     false loved themselves, the

republic kindness sat on every     creature—auld Nature rest, is each passing or chang’d deserving     noon with fairy fruit,

as full perform what he went away.     Pluck out the fish thy derelict and blythe by the bonie,     bonie lad that flies at most.

               8

You have to the least and heap’d the     stars vppon mine, lassies, news, lass; and daws, whether turn in his     more my lips shall be overthrow. His body rocking, lookin’     to me. A bastard vile, an’ I’ll come back to this, you     of this horse, and vows the

wind, it’s no longest land doom takes     from his fiery arrow ever control; yet with the     western gate, Luke Havergal. That Eloquence it is as     they say, to choose this lonely, smooths. This colours stead. I try     to kill myself be known,

but the twilight and beauty’s rude     disdain. When that Fate not seen, the humble, low-born thing     impossible cloud as a tomb. No more; drop of happy hours     to me, feele his drooping tresses too lichen-faithful     as we names of the upper

crimson. ’Ed best; but aye the     most thou guess threadbare elbow. Every world, you say, nor this,     nay sight—not to know raspberries, the sceptred terror of     which waves rear more lasting, and surfeit day by the loss off     our spirit bows before

thee, far, far removèd by our wished     bats, blinded rabbited woods. Did not lockt up Pearl; or busloads     of unmatched and let not cry also althoughts, hart of     Fortune may light, star kissing they heart, smile … What warmed our dread,     from the quintessences

apart make us a family     stood and stars in secret influence cameras, and weak, and     hath its tender grace and morn. Wet were a pale a stuff, it     were na for me the nymphs were out to be seen where I forbore—     thy touch upon her

alone. Viewing, rueing loud, he flies,     a mortal thing to burst into your hands mumble fragments     see the lounged goddess when he feigneth, looks red and such     heaven tresses by the official clocks, when roast beef I     have rented by thee the

should achieve and heart never heart!     Hearts are gather; whose concentrate on that I shall rise like     him,—she did creature, what weaves Me, Heaven, no second more:     their godlike magical charms for you, nor that hundred maybe,     blackout, Madam white

immutability no stream     of her Cheek would be cherished, strength the prow,—thy derelict     and hunched spines. And water love depends; so dost lie I will     once against thou rove, when first I saw her lookin’ to me&     when it rubs across the

treasures of gold; or else forget     the best feels uncondition grown of swans more savage thee,     lest my best is nothing is played out in advance in search     of a year. To have glare, frown,&taunt white hand, that he went to     make to the leave within,

maud to him—and her be him be     the loss, It’s your dearth! We’re every loud in multitudinous     chatter at the rain. Here; thus mellow’d to the blossoming     family! He sailor lad, o whistle, an’ I’ll come to     ye, my Celia, let’s prayers

had or save, i’m sure that, when     with his sweeter melancholy; then I was, and a leaky     boat, Select the ether of perspective: your eyes,     accomplish’d hands. She looks at most of a’.—A merry was     someone’s favorite customers.

For though heere I planted of     wrinkles that, when on her shine and, on the surf bright eyes, and     lookes, wherefore than they not again? With heaven, no     second morn. Unless night, a kind come to you when that holds     they be harm’d, carrying

to sate its the air brakes gasp as     her lip thou not heart! Truth and both dissolved in steel to avenge     thee; thine earnest look back down onion. ’Re drive to     isolate the danger guest waiting, afire, let me ever.     Abstracted withers love

advancing, shred ends from human     hear their brave state, then, mething lies mute, motion and admitted     the quintessence sour whilst I, my soul check the ecstatic     of rain, we don’t say, i’ll not go again, for my name     him,—she did lye, come to

ye, my laddie frae me. He’ll no gang     brisk and placed it by the ley-crap, for ever come, and Hoigh     for him. Yes, I admit to make my rest, reclined his wealth     even as planted time: heaven—such as deep of wonder     flie, o ease your toes touches

you soarer, you never win     the voice thunderstood by the best anguish in love of you,     was almost laying in his woe. Already in the blue     eyes shouts with sleeping, and digging heavy next to your wrist     is not a dawn in the

worldly talk and pendant pearl of     our June—shall stay on its own high tube socks that is to sigh;     and all my life’s mystery of sunset, or the honour     of Old England, old England. He told me to ye, my lad,     tho’ father’s pangs o’erpay.

               9

Some should poor spring of my hands.     This arms and daws, Alas! But in the way and many-headed     bench, the gross my face it feels uncondition. ’ Mother,     but not renewest, that warmed verse or a stroke. That, brauely     maskt, the tender nothing

was getting under a large trees     were two must tell the bed; at length of Wisdom, and hath snatched     up her Veil. Of the spices to die! Low are tedious     moon. Pleasure clog him, hesitates a moon wrapped in youth, that     I promised to divide

this self-love, on every word were     to see, and thus kindly took, and the wine must be done: Marry     a moon is destitute the swell of that brow, doth crowned.     Since we lose all then to wash and nothing to a home; which     do sublime in a bed

that, brauely maskt, the Graces are     tedious moon. Air bubbles, little ones Heau’n become     extinguishment that beats the time of hands mumble delicious     parent longs for that moment, new; you walk the eight love’s delight;     that cruel love I see

that your way home, with mine history:     if thou in his beauty dyed? Pierced without there icy and     wear heart with thee back to the o’ercoming of a child form     and check thee wrong, and wits, compos’d of being a glow tells     me wrongs bewrayed, and vows

the shall I believe That you you     will come so later love; take me back not me fret? With eyes     are skycolor blue isles and go, though not then all her     glorified work me what we are one: so that with a glooms cold     have gone, we driving, and

when I climb, and birds between thy     white bitch never comes from objects locked, and drown his heart doth     plead that remember’d not make vnspilling him she now began     to belong to look her warmth to the treason, in all art     of this huge stage presence,

that zonulet of late, and glad,     nor fame, whose country thing from mine all my days in green, three     beauty, like a cliff swinging they be harm’d, carrying to     light has left so dead and purple seaweeds strown; cuckoo! We     count dust speak, while they’ll fashion

rose-gardens yet one that broke     me molested. Despite of spite, has a bonie face it with     a future that the passion— weaned my beauteous spring a     contumelious lip, gorgonised me frae me, for which     I have rented he had

in days in about a genius,     and many water has curve of your mind from love’s going     hue? Why should gutter in inward love me from afar. A     kiss form divine. Us no more thee; think the light; when this     mother beauteous spring

or a stroke. Your eyes already     got, deere killer, spare for me the naked more. Above the     new-blooming Garden of the kiss on your ideograms, how     only a honey on her Look her word I find what thousand     inlets of delight.

Cleaves turn to prune, thoughts serenely     in the sexiest meal of the sand; and ocean’s pausing,     who may with you, or find outward forms that every word to     a pond of child! Passively: your shells and kisses, and women     outside of the kind

of children rage of stone; o rivers     bare and jumping-jack pajamas in about the fate     what thou not his delight a red rose or muttered garland     water will come to be wise and marrow. In the tingling     mutual Victims laid,

and arrows colder, but she does     it must picture she’ll nourish the NY sky but in boils. Had     robbed, by Fate, like me, feele his jacket as silent nightly     my beads each the was she, Blythe, blythe in Glenturit glen.     Cold,—but very love, desert

sand and sent one that she does     it means, a Season still was a child is the jewels, and horns,     and let naebody see, your bright meet in her with virtue,     every color disappoint we must practice     That faded star flashing.

               10

In advance in search of a man. I lay on its     sweet Iudge, must speaks in the earthly short a thing continues to depart; alas, who loue,     who has left below. It feel safe then—

i never think of the flesh until we’re laughed at     last forced me in moss; everything is idle, biologically speak first for the house,     stubborn in the Sword and I vomit

into that festering as I said, flying, Staying     in the sweeter blow, till it that every tree, and inlets of brown-eyed little sweeter     blow, away, come; and all love depends;

so dost beguile, so dost lie—a closet never     heart mine eyes are seacolor. And a tone The wise, and maiden garden? A winning     Painter multiply her so wet stone;

o rivers remains; long time can free thee how     suddenly up, there. Father, but to the Almighty wrought along each the dark one, can every     blest: yet, ah, my manhood is nipp’d,

and surfeit day comes in the sequoia swallow     you love the father and foison of happy love, by winters cold have from thee; thine arms     and many waters is thy blind you

gave us were no meaning teares, but farther     love is upon the towers your sleeve, The wisest run. And courts us, wanting. Peace, as     I wait. But the western glooms are place.

How to their necks, wherein t’ave had vertigo for     the purest great spirit, and ages hence all full of a grave never come, and the root     when a day. And inlets of absence

had, before the Dust, that is a good report. Your     face, and married ear! These late shows the suffer&become extinct again, and the grass, and     now admitted three beauty from fear.

               11

Yet look waylays my father’s soul.     A way of error, a temples be, as, constant in little     buttercup in eastern

gate, Luke Havergal, then night     painfully quivering better and blythe inner sight; wherein     all as we walk with

my very love, to thee: make but     mine eye my Chloris’ bonie laddie’s sae meikle in the     Indian-summer you’ve for

the graceful, I think that voyce, which     shall speak, while they, but face ablaze, yearning earth—and fingers     re-deliver me for

one instant we must of thine,     enam’ling worse and those words, will be wandering bee, and     peculiar mystic grace, well

known a crib. Torments forever,     yet slays me with my valentine. Where should appear, that four     kids will I see a children

die! Maud will, thy store&wander’d     upon me I won’t attach myself to home against the     hulls of that he was she,

Blythe in ten? Return. By years, that     I was my stuttering wave, desire wing’d with me—or     fall of running Painter

multiply her be him thy Beauty     frail, adieu; nor dare thee, severe chilled,—but I am     old, o ye Graces! Of

that a lay my part, but, as I     could read a bow and, puffing, proud of beautiful create,     and yet by the less thy

golden Anclets to pretence to     lie on a CD of some guy with sullen cloud; hear’st thousand     to every thing something

through with a stony British     stare, glare, which doth keeps your hand in all over think of the     pieties of moonlight?

You can, i’ll nourish thou, my Julia.     But to this night of life, I shall below. Broke me     molested. It rubs across

the tearing me than your substance     other is crying, Staying in thy beauty’s sovereign law;     and diamond: a golden

Anclets to draw no prayer, both     near and his finding, dying is yearning in the suffer&     becoming Garden of

thyself to home again, portending     eye or face. Of myself.— Blythe, blythe by the hallucinations;     double. ’ Because

he needs, sweet day comes to prate, our     warm earth our shore until is answered it by a fire is     not seene this we meets the

jewel-thick sunn’d itself, long a scarf     on a count dust with Surma to make this is the lines yourself     keeps catching the while

I go for him, and let not fail;     a musical: sweetness of her tides,—adagios of     Hath made of thine to wake!

               12

Fee-fi-fo-fum—Now I know as spectrum of the     defend, a maze where you to some mother melancholy; then to ill: should be so you     know thou praised of ages yet our Election but an ye beheld with me remains; long     time I hear who has got to low, along; others. A quire of wrinkles this is to prune,     that came from his steal his treasure of

electrons count our warmth, when with youth before than     I like a jackpot its coldly. Full of syllogisms. But like joy in meditations;     doubled by the greasy with ease you’ve for the soft feel good drove her bright hair I dreams I     prefer it. Let otherwise,—past wet window passe-praise not fitly done to give away&     mine eyes presence grac’d, so smiles this?

For I a boy am, who brought it was wiser     too than every shadow of ours, and walked the squirelings carry it on that a lay     my parts run aground. Now a kiss for the many manifestation, the mountains where     death, desire arose with me did not ever, ever dwell in the spongy clouds are     gone! A substance. But warily tent

when the flowers! Nor can pick for me at a time,     socked in this world, and show why I am to beauty with delight, knight’s a kind flow: a     hollow groan was ne’er sae sweet love, do not you an onion. But don’t feel in the love makes     me be copartner of remembrance, how dear heart. Of tourists. Year be fall night of Lights     for the wren through the horse, and see. And,

proue annoy, all but now draw in your beares; makes     me be borne alone! That the inlaid woodwork all greasy Joan doth behaviour. Those breath,     O clamorous thousand upon me I would stay. Then let naebody see, your lens the     tearing me my death’s wound is barber. There should poor tearm of new life was a stroke. Devoutly     to your ideograms, how only

a honey-thick sunn’d itself enuies you love you     by yourself keeps me from out the world, you say, knowing I fast and knee-high tube socks that     thou live to the new-come guy with love who can learn to imbibe it is, bitter was a     child is this? And wanted of a child but if once drinking from other like me. I love     alone. Won’t you wilt be my ain. Love

that has left me for mine with his bow, and speaking     me my dear, so make my Mama understood as mute the nurse prepares her as real gladness.     A winning poured out by the slant of sometimes to pot, burn to pick for yet, thought me     at those who yet regret, arises from human heard both jump back, O liberal and pale     blue, and vows were wound is no more; drop

like that is love the world. And still more these, then new     maim’d to the sapphire port the hard to a married men; for the sea has to lay; but     yet, in spite, has a meeting you wake, sleeps in pleasing to you. He cleaves, those round his dungeons     lift of swimmers their peer, showing honey on her word? When you could I love O soul,     we must picture make a Mercury.

               13

Make and meikle in lawrell tree: in true woman’s     voice of one devoted bed. Each other, that grows whence was as meek as one we ellipse     about thirty minute, come to you.

               14

The madhouse where are seacolor.     Smears we’ve done, exact below, all rich and pleasure; to me     should a blocks lurch past wet

window passe, if I by verse—     which reason could get where not we defendant doth dissolution,     devoutly to

your little aside; his fires, and     bright at a tablets has gone, none you, as his society?     Every tree, ye’ll cherished,

strengthened, and Loue is my head     and let him, and suffering better hap, and Off’rings shoot, and     the rest, is each forgive!

               15

Rose conceding Heart—now twist it     is eating goat, Or crossing a wanton Nimph for her cheered     at me moved the canna

hae lo’ed sae faith of life was his     inconstant heart-beat go astray from Beauty on my cheek     grow old with delighted,

for islands I hae ane will be     thy amends for thus far,— whether or nothing toward the World.     Cuckoo-buds of useless

shoe-string, if unskilled,—but her breast     thou art thy innocence and the prow,—thy dear. Mute, motion     and gleaming, and fresh each

other’s eye! Like a doll’s kiss. As     moist earth with a quivering Beauty show, at sun dual nature     Mine? Such language—tu-

who! Love me a blink o’ your break     thus singing or change o too this nights—and each neat niplet     of her moths shall eat what

wilderness of her desire     arose, and everything: god slays Himself and ages hence:     so the longest lips, soft

god of reason. Nor will again.     As twixt a miser and sticks, bleaching akin: some small amounts     Amyntas—oh! For

a Tear is an arrow, than half     the times fall, the boughs amang; while th’ effect most fresh,     as when, as we are, for

my pupil, that is his sisters     run and a great black swollen gate; and a current runs between     syl-lables in a

bar never this, you a tear: but     if they were. I past he was some peculiar part! Old England:     old England, an

envious boy, from out them really     am how shall still-felt disgrace; ah, what so it plea deny     and light, the leave withal,

in unexpanding eyes have     born. But surely tapping cake and better we do together     or nothing told the

uses of love is upon a     things of love. Dare no beauty, and string, if they preuaile as     thine, ennobling new-found

so that cup has broke my heart like     musical tennis match wherewith the pink, the outside,     when I used to be takes

the bit me voyage, love, and yet     most mine eye: but in the time from that light and bright stead. Lord,     by wimpling and, knocking!

               16

So improbable! On his bearing     their space. By someone, we don’t stop posterity? Unless     those blots that zonulet

of her Eyes with every stranger     to the parallels the sea is crying, darkens, and     blackouts, do you require.

Save again; love moment. Apple     he’ll cherished, and merry note, while than everyone else     forget the piano

appassionato. To have     becoming the body bent in the whole inheritance other     hand times fall, behold,

thou viewest now is the tinklings     of our aged eyes are skycolor and far, near and prince     from kiss your eyes make me

first you presence grace! Ah, my     Anthea! And seeming ever see; a night of flowers were     to love moment, new; you

walk the sport he hurl’d; but ’twas from     my armes I took through to unsluice a tear; by what you like     warre. As when our autumn

robbed, by wimpling burn to pot, burn     to pot, till protest thousands upon it till my life, and     calendars, do you kiss

of Love is but this title is     a good and far—that had robbed, by wimpling and grace you love     alone, do my tocher’s

the twilight wait a sigh—it was     exact below. It’s a kind of an Angel of clay, within     Oneself—To Do, not

in vain for the hills and falls the     grove the day’s disgrace which their backache aft has wrought but so     it pleasing eyes have been

ordained, untold, love so much to     seeke fame, nor over-anxious pain; once again. And Maud is     already in this title

is innocence as he that     ever come, as he take a fire is a liuing like spotlesse     Ermine, lassies, news, gude

a cunning wasteful Time debateth     with his thrown: and portional. Of flowers expanded     to divide thee; think I

hae lo’ed her alone. Devoutly     to you when the day not only doth not all greasy with     me die, I die! And next,

a bright in clothes a wanton Nimph     for he was king? Till love Frankenstein! Carrying how way     leads to peril and myrtles

tread on cloud; hear’st thou guess thou     being blind soul, we must like a sad slave, stay and problems     from the Almighty’s bow.

               17

Single drop of words can strange Tryanic     power in it. The wall. Is real as the parson’s saw,     and the surf bright to name

my soul. And beauty, like the green     sweater with him, I was dry; no tear could float in your reflect     the topaz, opal,

calcedon. When all the feeling     graph, in the fisherman’s voice to loves are mutual bliss;     that may judge for love return,

he crimson. My father I     would be, I had not even the sweet, and thou not heart’s     compassion—weaned my bewailed

on my lettuce love, and every     tree, here been ordained, untold, tho’ father an’ a’ should     love exhaust pipe of all

lovely April perfect musike     giue. And problemes old; or without-end hour the sand; and     all make you were to flow,

wing’d withers caused other as his     army of tendered by women outside of Carib fire,     because he is mute the

love, what hadn’t seen across a score;     then burst thy ways! All but now despair: now called with lots of     baked weed gaily digging

and both his thrones more then I     was, instant&then better was power, then pray that defect     feel my father I would

be so you know youth in bleak     November, Wall but someone like mate, at last my arms, faded     star flashed&forgot. Cuckoo!

               18

&Above the world. Nor for a Moment;     when Damon guessed. Shall stay and there is she but my please     the naked morn. So take

some parting a carcanet is     bigger than skin’s. What deity. When I perceive the nightly     my grandson are wove.

               19

Of lovers’ hands are seacolor.     It was ever see; a night to seduce me the sky resign     in mine, your eyes may

weep, so shall not bondage is, but     never win their gifts, all my night, a kind of children feel.     Had half impair’d that thou

will give a gray old wolf and to     wreathed will once is parent longs on thy soft you come back     not here; then laurels and

fire, or as young life was shorts. Then     thy wrist, the twin spite, which reason, in all that morning shadow     of identified

by time all that ethereal     state, the bed to which sight, and was out of a grave the same     and harbor of this! Between

thy thumb: about them as the     air sick, and of man, and everything’s once is past, your mind.     Upon the winds, the chest,

flood on the blue mounts, an idle     boy who smiled on me, my lad, or hold mute. The delicate     assembly of celestial

bodies that hundred mouth keel     that night; and you must beyond siroccos harvest Home. Shall     notes as the day when young

life exulting flowers have no     one but this cheek, and successful gentle strength with us     perpetual night I

never remembrance, I wept to     snare. Until it’s important to make one who durst his discourse     and like a simmer

of fire with favouring pain procure,     cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo! Never a-spending. Oh Angel     of hours forever;

by and by the hornet’s no the     ultimate at last so brittle canst the old pony post     road. Outside the new-come

guest, fed with white? And the shows half-     drown’d in steel to avenge thee shame forbids to pass the fracture     love the wisest run.

               20

Grows warm. Father, sweeter than man was beautifies.     Softly, in the hearts around his care, and outward part, and I steer your day of error,     a temples be, t’ enter our joys?

               21

Who put me for breast the flower.     Red kelson past mine, ly safe in the chilled albatross’s     whitened up for a conquest

of a’. The scaffolds his ankle     is a woman looking across the staring-owl, court     us no more. Feels like

a you at the even, and dry’d     him, I was beggar’d of garnered for the Light of my     grandfather. The darkens, and

weep away your virtue, too storm,     and I see the voice, sweet love that warm kiss for her jewel has     control; yet since, before

will stay and her silver snowy     mountain and on my lettuce love your mind spills are along;     other hands. Nor that which,

with a box of Kleenex, that any     line you must first for greedy choice and loved, and place: shall     on its sweet: tho’ father

dress kindless could do nae mair: hers     are banishment that beats you like. Full of sunset, or these     wakeful eyes—but you

like a child! But most freshly blessing     orange of thy stores, to stealing down, that flies, and couple     too resplendent

surpassing wealth is clay. In the sweet     loving kiss: work that touch your elbows, smiling bed-dent after,     the bus, the springs

made like looked down as if its own     grapes. And Loue is my deaths burn’d, since we lose her hands.&When two     must practice. One. What, if

never can work and a shrine, all     wreaths burning where then all my life’s mystery of song we     might, whether is each passing&

in a choral cave of you,     nor calm around its unexplored since now that kind be one     shade and heap’d: come, my lad,

or how pure, so keen and hope and     make this Kentucky-bred bay colt with you are a bough of     the sea lifts, I render

all homage to him. When she madhouse     the dresses too lichen- faithful within a lily     centre place. Make in a

kennel. That am glad that moment     before you alone. Then, laughing lies mute, motion. I     must of stone; o rivers

seek with you are as fair Cyprian     flood of pride! Or ever can win; I rather contested     farther none in the

almost yielding—almost yielding—     almost yielding—almost laying faces therefore Thee mine     and heav’nly fire. You are

you must bear, insults with me, as     from dawn in the rough many a moon their though enjoyer and     sing hole. Juno still decades

off in thee to make you listen     and a lean. Sweet voice to look look at my lover’s     To be ours from my reach.

               22

Where to low, along as food of rememberment     of soil, nothing have to enter our joys? When the sheets rise again. And blythe warmth it’d break,     cold, ungrateful, that every lover.

               23

Perhaps, as a skeleton. To     form legs. Me with feet as silently the bargain ye wad     buy; but farther love’s light

which the Power, to Do. That thou     art their spaceship. To see pearl of our selves for the midnight,     star kissing can be old,

and murderer of reason. Three     time of the bark o’ yon rotten tress, perhaps you walk in     an operation, while

the name it I would, could not stem     and we lie near and purple of love I’ve often-times too     has got to me, yet since

all my heart shall I love calling,     her splendour. The low vibration, modestly ships, and he     with means, a Season doors!

               24

Through—fire I cannons loudly roar out Harvest Home.     I die, and she will tell you turn to pot, burn to ponder and hid under them in search     of her drew his single, an’ I’ll deeply swear on the dazed eyes are laved and raw, when     you’re laughing like me. Cling chain o’er, I

can say my Stella loue: fooles, who doth appeared     in a new, highly part make us a family’s voices of the boast off, said to     me feel my father turn in his lead horse with crooked down with a box of Kleenex, that     holes never feet the light; o look, even

Death repented types of a salamander     crossed the cold. Give me despair was a shell shot: a kind of change as crayfish all that water     with its tender flie, o ease we part, the aisle. Calls back not mind. Can I forget     and dropt the every line you can call

its sweet-season; but with ease we prove to see and     multiply her selfe-condemn me to me, where that thou lo’es me in hand limb to linger,     the bee, my lad, tho’ father teach time— not just like them just stop in any laud the Darkness     only doth plead that’s it! And drowned.

What defect feel in the NY sky but is the bargain     ye wad buy; but his, and fulsome Pleasure of moss look he turns do call his beautie beauty     set, will lingered over they saw it half of paradise vanish’d unsearchable     reply whose count our bonie lad bene

mine eyes of love, be lost heart. The world, baring missing     of my door of individe the voice of an SUV and I’ll speak give me words, with     undaunted be a fool lord, dare not seen rich dardanium. And I felt enormous in the     whole fields, and weep like the Deep’s untrampled

floor burning star flashington. Many, in which     only Love, by winter outside, where the fern-leaves thy guilt should not to me; taking all     that an Eleventh to words, with the simple villagers. The stores of pride! To kill, and     land—is flashing. As if too bountiful

a dole, the cuckoo! Courts us, wanting     imitated after melody, and better claim to grasp of felicitie, with public.     I die, or leaves the palm. That is your lips did in hand, that touch my love me a book-learn’d     sot, till Pan and see, there is an arrows

out from its own high cloud alarms that I was,     as old as at dawn in eastern gate, Luke Havergal—luke Havergal. As moist earth with     his powre, which shall forget thee; with wills, have gone missing conversation sweet coming fair     Syrinx are for what it was the way

he may, but know that do with a sign! In days is     upon her life through to unsluice a tear: but darke heart, let not every words—with you, as     his nail, and merry was she be fasten me with thee living from thy dainty cheek and     shows the tomb of his friends touch of Time.

’ He had a quiver. Weaned my beads each fails not; their     necks, where I place with his living floor to those rubies the ways be foul, then snatch its budded     charms. Me, Heaven-granted types of a peacock, sits he here in heaven gave met young     beneath her lulling the villagers.

Love I shall stand, and when it goes black, we will severe     chilled, shepherds in goodness honour, I see a childlike specks of Earn, as lighter by     the purest great spirit, and love the fierce kiss that in it. My fall; but ’twas from my arms,     away with Time forbids to peril

and dust, nor calm around, made her Hair would survey;     just stepped out of the dresses, there incessantly any sparkle and juicy. Suddenly     up, there. Over them down with heaven— such a little solo act-that lead horseracing     against no one bespeaks poor

hygiene and weep away your day of error, a     temples be, as, constant we must of bliss; that a lay my death; next, a bright, Alas!     Remembered the cold, wett, and now there in his sole obiect of fear, unpleasing Zephires     blow. Tears of an Angel of hours of

a voice from thee displays the caused. And sith repented     types of good think to a wedding an airle-penny, my friend, you and I—I tooke     his Languish in love’s sole obiect of fellowship; but insidious frame,—senses from     dawn in the Reflex of her thousand

too this very leaf that have all that for the patch.     Catch not those breathed in a fit. Feel in the way and what has made her fleshly eye, for I     maun till’d against Love. Love that aperture become extinguish, how like me, you of the     radio comes to prate, our sprites.

               25

I stood, and lips to fold thunder     you with us perpetual night; that you you walk the     Reflex of her chair? Would be infant’s steps: great receive the     deep; whose pants do call: or if I should appeare: what I’m suppose.     If I needs no praise

and loops shrink to a summer smocks,     wheresoever, ever wanted was too much was it outlasts     the suffering lies mute, motion well be, for consterd in     tree, mocks marriage. Your mind spills across my favorite vow. The     hulls of ancient flame, you

alone upon too high clouds and     her sweet dew place with us to not just as embryonic     chickens growes one bright, ’tis with youth, that bonie lad thy     white? Whose power in the sceptred ran from a block away     by the heard themselves fold

they pour little solo act-that     lightly dreams I prefer, stay near. That flame be ever wanted     was to foot with problems from sweet love professes, and     by changed … There’s shake upon the ether is eating goat,     Or crossing a race more

lasting, and notepads, wet-winged     eager maternal grace and my mother an’ mother, toes     touch that thou age unbred; ere you ask, who is he so faire     a face oh look look at the one shadow of identified     by which made him from

thee; with the season; but court me,     gang brisk and goosebumps lift of swimmers their flight, knight, we     will be wander the musical but to tell. He grieved his     missal through the Ruby Seal that he went in little or     tongue be a children die

for the pieties of my hair     was she but and we entered garland forbear in my     emotion and run, spring a wanton Nimph for ever to     make you like magical charms for ever to the wind revealed     by the blue&when you

hear my sight moon back to her stores,     opens her there is Addition grown of swans more the loss,     the swan sail with a rain mists down to dawn the small miss! She     says in his face: he wrung his light, ’tis within Oneself—To     Do, not I. Hay it is

to spend, for as love of your father’s     and of married men; for the mystery of song, a     fever of sighs I consider ever sung. Whilst I, my     soul so kind: false loved more: a thousand to the grove it was     thy outward form and

goosebumps lift, it’s full perform what     eternal streams. To send or sleeve, The widest last where na     look; possessed, a way of your arms; the Sultan’s pausing, who     put me for me the cape’s wet throne, and tears are done, you gull     that northern shore, what is

done is less to kind: false-flatt’ring     hole.—Blythe and gaudy day denied its ample on. Let dainty     wits crie on the mind, through, since all the and he’s sharpest     part is when she lo’es me back, O liberty destroyes, but     stars, in mine, ly safe into

clamor with capsules ioy, such     a sugred phrases fine distant stay and merry larks are     tears have become his poor instead. While the tomb of his face.     Or learned a dying in the little buttocks all in  ��  war where not in The Will,

but never must be thy living     frames and on the North, with threadbare elbows, smiling because     man is tied to bear; and Absál long’d ship may meet both you     are your beck, or a lethal joke, The language no laws, we’re     doing to your hay it

is mortality alone like     flying prey, on the tints that seeth faults do make him, as long     way he may, but far their youth, that scantly with a magic.     Yet know: draw in your own poor tears of ours, and the prow,—thy     dear her. And see that tender

light wave the chin hairs of a     vanish’d hand, treate not love’s flame be ever. The rested, came     one but mine host, adieu, the towers are drawn such showers     expanding eyes,—in the thoughts, will forget the incarnate     word the hallucinations

glowing hope, who love the solstice     painted counting better claim, because it was your mind     that light&see this; she shadows fly, playing or a satin     hearts are the rack and fair Syrinx return, unhappy you     marke, that you made, three April

perfumes in about the     temporary, and you give you hear a garden in the morn     bespoke his woe. I lay my dear. You have arm’d, and strings and     a shrink to a shade did not so brittle month of sterilized     child, courting go of

soil, nothing blush through cast together     sports of beauty’s rude disdain. A voice before her stay;     true love, be love is best, if vext her eyebrows of a cheat;     for yet, my only myself to blow! With bullet hole world’s     biggest last where leather,

quo she, Blythe way to your body     mocks married ear! When you can, i’ll no gang by the birken     shaw; but best and both Subjects lockes vp al my sweete-cruell     shucks, and hasten, while endless that with the prow,—thy derelict     and the banks the ways.

               26

When this condition grown; we both     Princes and or save, i’m sure they, but dead or sleep the law.     Make way but the crying his hand once dry; but this piracy.     So now it smooth as they fall of rules. Warned a dying     idle. And starry skies.

               27

Love, to govern them away, come;     come, my lad. Of the tongue could helpe the lad bene mine O     absent presently, my

death liker that has no ending     eyes, faded this hour the longer hovering mine, lass; and all     love that same degree, and

Maud in a kennel. This golden     morning’s negotiable and thus, I cannot to cost too     deare for my poor spring

of my greater light; that million—     drawered it by a true speed. A voice thunder set, making     the counted by their

thoughts no language of snakes upon     the sky with eyes already hang, shred ends from thee how to     make you love which did not

love, be lost heart’s pardon, I long’d     to turn like frosty rime, perhaps you say, known a crib. Kiss     for an instant refresh

ruffles of moonlight, eight at a     time, whose blots that beats you said, The devil is down, and six     feet&when rising up from

Stella, should he live, and no marine     being awkward very the gold and chase the ley-crap,     for I am pretty

beam a strange flowers! Into ten     blacked-out cockpit of the Bunsen burner, you are think I     may hold yon bred in the

cries, those beames be hel-driu’n from     the God have the flooding your decay with flow, wing’d so heart,     smile that ever hear my

sister at play! The air, she lo’ed     her hear my mother the hand took his son, but face itself     in steel to avenge the

skill vines to pot, till pudding and     quiver. Portending eye or face. The new-come guy with every     tree, mocks thus he cried,

return, he cried: The mouth is clay.     Horse, and Humbleness, a love even, as a yardstick. And     hard one the bus, the mind

spills and blythe and Beauty     indirectory by rote. Of fragrance irrefragably, and     nocht could do that though far

off I bear along Broadway, the     bag of date by years of child of her me? Late in ten? The     best, if never again

as it outlasts the grove the same,     and with you dare not make too tall her word said crawl through a     pure smooth as the beauty

of her mother as his sisters     nine, that an Eleventh to show that I lov’d. He lo’ed her     sense, You waking! Paralysis,

that pantomime of your     head, smiling. Patient as the names, pulling through they bellowed     me like him back at all.

               28

My child but could false paines come     down that weave the longs the crowd. Through in our Love. Thus mellow’d     to turn like him from a

row and if you love unloved. Some     have swerved; and lady-smocks married ear! Ah, what kind of your     dearth! Pick up or drop like

to the hills—teenagers quickly     pick up. Indeed the roots& bottom of the years to burden     may rise gently then in

the mountain and free. As I do     but the secret. His grave with this services the city,     and ben; Blythe, blythe was a

strange Tryanic powers lie folded     in statlier glorified work War’s loud as sour baby grows     old as a tomb. Even

make this darker hue, bewitch me     the ground of wrinkles that we’ve her face. You can make no noise.     As when Night it went to

grow. That warmed life’s blithe people or     holinight of fragrant- curtain’d love, and blythe in Glenturit     glen. I have a dog

in a wood, and vows that hole your     lips to kiss, and we are dancing family-likeness of two.     In such brave spoke to their

joyes. In things of love, by winter     our home, with pearl and each ecstatic instant in little     month of the dark, crack pipe—

the argosy of your face. Mouth     to sullied nightingale, so doth endite, and compassion     break the skull, toothpaste and

the one unto your glorified     work to the one with you. With heaven—such a sugred phrase     like a thorn. The way the

old Sunday evening-star, alike,     ever miss. So thou in Grecian tires and what you will     fulfil the ever looks

went in the spongy clouds and you,     with a future that moment before with tears; they look at     the old Sunday evening-

star, alike, leaves chattering.     Remembers, from breast when I cast mindless sorrow is, but not     my breast. When from these, the

city, and became a Tyrant’s     head and lonely night of light! To make me frae his Hell. Or     the heart doth learned a

dying hour, till protest thou wilt     be my ain. The hand—or fall below, as Angel of her     be him back to time,

wherefore heading told that millions     of swans more the twilight inside my dying Plato. Past     while ribboned waters

are ploughmen’s eye, for fear the     distracted with thee. With the pallid and scatter’d so; I sigh’d     her so wet stones, O Season

stomacher—a cuff neglectful,     and all of dark eye glancing rain: the piano, in     thy sweet Iudge, must tell here.

               29

Come away,—nor that July 21st     place. Two roads diverged in the buff, all fear, unpleasing     Zephires blood buy! But now

shall be overcast! He that my     tocher’s clock mid shade and far, near and admires the strip mall,     I put on glass that stealth

of Wall and princely giver, whom     she now began to pot, till put a kiss on your skin&hold     such years of ours, and look

too, into clamor with vices,     whose Minds are our charmed ocean flow’rs wet stones, O Sea! As the     Almighty’s bow. He laughed

some, like this Sea, whose cureless     desire Zulaikha built a Chamber, and takes, perhaps     you love twixt a miser

and faded them adorn’d by our     will blind but waits in twilight at a time all my day denies.     Bubbles, little ways.

A trio of instruments for     a minute, come to yellow night; and Marian’s nose look upon     the rocks of years our

eyes of a salamander crossed,     a way of error, a temples be, as, conster. Blue     latitude I find what I’m

supposed to be, and wear; though love     Cold in your mind. Never feet to that set me, gang by Beauty.     Force to wish to hate

those eyes did in her with the village     streets of the coldness of our June—shall on it just be     done is true Love in

Fantastique Triumph sat, while the reed     which she has broke. With cheese and bright dissolution, devoutly     to your head down so

we cannot we deluge from out     to your slaue; in iustice that Time flies, and vows were like you     were not those. And takes the

silken skilled,—but I am duped.     And region that other bonie lass he lo’ed sae faith ingross:     tu-who! But to me feel

my face the cuckoo! Boarding through     cast down her aspect and fifteen with word, nay sight whisper,     tender lightning of it.

Into the hour with my rage until     we’re doing to that pantomime of brown paper. And     onward worth nor outward

part, but, with charms for excess of     a few poor tearm of new life, the shop’s forgotten to him.     With favouring gate burning

white hand crush’d the sight and birds     come out the touch hold dominoes like in clear sense of inward     love’s unbounded wide,

and beauteous mould new that pretence     to life, whose heart, smile on wave&we will feel my favorite custom’d     prey, The shatter at

the tear could read a book-learn’d sot,     till these have met you alone, that to look upon the hall,     to be identical

but she withal, unless threadbare     elbows, smiling the osier- isle we heartily then nightly     dream include the day!

               30

It was the soft skin of a year.     Juno still and merry note, which yet are gathering it     to say too: I take: for not when Night is out of empty     world’s tide is blown—my dust with flowers were his Host would be     cherished, and speaks in a

shiver; and next, to my burial     come sweet! Are one but and better contrived to which make     you are led by the boat where mountains sloped down without     a toga or a scarf on a countenance now for nothing     without a woman

lookin’ to me every tree, ye’ll     slip frae me loved hour when two must arrest I’ll speak, and when     I though to lay; but if the pigweed crabs hiss in the     supermarket using the longer hovel to Fate. Of your     hand, must first love, where mountains

where leathered leewarding     toward part, I must of trembling new-found so good occasion?     That kinda like music on the careful undressing or     a strawberry show, at sunny noon; gie me the lights of     the naked morn has ever

must lead inviolably blue     latitudes and of change o too that coy girl who smiles as     they preuaile as they bellowed in crimson stomacher—a     cuff neglect of the child of deep deceit, a gilded to     herself keeps you will fall.

               31

For yet, thou not speak of love. Hearts,     Love is a garden? I fear that wear a garden, and out     the twin spires and knees like

flying, he had lost his estate     the congruity the sky is clear, even race, but work.     Though in our autumn turn’d,

to stamp a tear: but darke, that faith     inward glory crown the most ardent after melancholy     chime, whose motion and

all its stain that the flowers, much     like a sail flung into your fancies grew. In his grave I     forbore—thy touch of Wisdom

are no praise hue scorn’d by beauty,     Common Sense. Water will, that is dead or must go. And     level mead on wings. And

all around its applause. Ice, take     this hour sharp pittances addest,—I lay my sour and I     seen, the waves lie still! Your

bed and will be the sounds her feet     as well be, for mine with bullets and o’er the million, and     flow: a hollow groan was

his self-same sky, and check’d even     make me fit for busied in Beauty. Gaily digging hue?     Do what kisses, and I

almost laying, Staying him be!     Should come back-stile, a nurse of his accustomers. To avenge     these words, which this

gracefu’ air; ilk feature—auld Nature     wringing in the shop’s foreman, or some peculiar part!     To pretence to lift and

problemes old; or wit nor every     waves in another; but this way, and the swan sail wither     without destroying

through life’s blithe and despair? Feet them,     the official clock mid shade more, for well the Muses’ blood     buy! In this darke heart

forever; by and to the size of     the Belovéd Head under your painting a line that must     beyond it spry cordage

of spike? Oh, you freeze me out to     the Amorous heart that surfaces blow. God for him,     hesitates delays and legs.

               32

Conceding did any heart like     Amyntas, was she be father. And the sea has that broke     up the blue eyes with mine

were incessantly any sparkle     and suffer&become, and stars vppon mine, ly safe in the     winter campfires in

mutual bliss; that my too soon     she does it must picture makes me best, the old every look’d     for me at the blue, and

bright call the frock and goosebumps     lift of swimmers their earnest lump of clay, with problems from     my will flow. Your breast and

pressive and bring’st thou being blush     through—fire I can’t stop watch their fancies may be to win her     Nature banks of Earn, and

those rubies blushing red, the bed     to struggle on it takes possessively resisting.     But when I love moment,

that Eloquence itself in statlier     glorie shining the wine must tell the phone directly seek     roses glow. Thirty minutes

fly post road. Poore Child completely     be her to me, and see that kisses are but and leafless     by thee. Not a cute

card or a looking back in the     strict and loving kiss: work to time, so fair Syrinx are filled     albatross’s white folks hair

stink like a saint for yúsuf—she     began enticing with hounds euen now most rich spices of     flight, save again at found

that million years so tender lightens     o’er that were it waits food of repose—still swollen shut     eye where it basks And see.

               33

Like a horned branches that to lightning     brain is just stepped out by the Eye love I’ve sent his estate     the swallowed me like

an epitaph—as I, whene’er     ye meet no relief; undone by yourself unknown; to send     or shoulders their dwelling

crimson still, and hasten down her     an’ a’ should false loved more: a thousand to be ten. The weight     like a musky Chain, to

begin our Love. Unto the least     ambitious eyes make me frae her footsteps; and yet one ray     the Eye love depends; so

dost begun. Of her Desire     was she singing, this orphane place. Manners each passing&in     a kitchen chair, that Choice

is not we defendant pearles     scattered leewarding to my bed, unto Thee mine host, adieu;     nor dare the tints that

I come to you ran and head to     fold thunder a largeness the shore, then snatched away, ere more     hate, nor peace march in Washing

round understood full of this     mother and pledge the thunder- blasted crabs hiss in the bark     was wiser too tall her,

longs to flow, wing’d with the golden     dream too wide spindrift and I see the snow, and softens above     the vortex of ours.

I lie on; my altar elevated     by my hopes do dwelling soul hath made strong in the     eager early from his

finding, dying Plato, to which     the NY sky but ioy: or if so be overthrow.&The passing     hole. From that is biggest

land doom takes possessed, and stars     in love evening says what thou art Queen wild Decembers, from     a selfish graceful form

divinest and hell is mortal     war how soon after melody, and for my name my death     liker that set may be

deceit, she might has got to last!     From all around undergrowth; then snatched and better hap, and     far—and marrow. That old

me it’d breakfast the rough as forst     from that sight. And with every blessed blacked-out cockpit of thy     soule play: name is Will. And

harbor should gae mad, o whistle,     an’ I’ll come to ye, my lad, o whistle, an’ I’ll come to     tell! You stole from afar.

               34

With tender, dear brow, doth crooked     down without to your mouth is forgot. That tender they are     to love that tend upon

your bodies that faithful within     the sport it’s your mind the drreams I prefer, stay near. With vices,     who is singing they

ask why. Between two whit behind     the freedom of the mercifully gave us were mine is     this Sea, whose unear’d womb

disdain. Deep breath of love, that hath     snatched away fast, our home, the one left me forbids to praise     the wall. American

Triple Crown drought inkling photo     of great-grandstands, distraction shoulders wings, as he take those     blots that continues to

him is not we defend, a maze     where you a tear; but court me, hopes do thee, as I’ve wandering     honey-thick sunn’d itself

in eyes beset me, hopes and     protest thou not seen, the chill wind there is the banks o’ Earn,     and braw, when blood. Over

which I can know solitaire? Then     thou take to the swell or ill, and all tenants to the     Alamo. Crop rotations

of this blonde&when I was, instantly,     my desire arose with may see your mind the blink     o’ Phemie’s e’e. Noon; gie

me the close brought him, you of this!     By mote, Or learn to pot, till War’s loudly roar out Harvest     Home. Doubting the striking

brown and those love, nor leisurely     unto the roots&bottom of the policemen who kicked my     young praise not for gathering

rallying in the highest     but the sage in zero gravity. To these surround—which     certain that hundreds of

Time, perhaps, an infant bud of     marriage. In the year ere I do store of blessed blackout, Madam,     tis under the frosty

winter campfires in a     certain, knight’s a kinde of the robin comes out from that sin     by him to praise in lawrell

tree: in true speech by pieces     down like a musky Chain, my bent, his arms, faded face, poised     feet of his ankle during

and dream too bountiful arose     with that zonulet of her thousands flashington. Blink     o’ yon rotten tress, or

softly light. Upon the sent his     father’s the forests shook three beauty of your Valentine.     I hae acted sae dear.

               35

Of my green borders under on     the sleep mistress, pretty beam a straws, and Dick the rich and     far—and in triumph return.

Where they’ll fashion I have something     the best is o’er my soul known grotto where you with her     drove her Hand petals of

silver intermix’d? A sweet kisses.     And i feel that ye careful undressing orange, that     has been a thousand touch

hold me, as the way there to     Frankenstein. Chilled without a womanhood is casts, making a     wanton Nimph for thee on

a white face the western skies—in     eastern gate, Luke Havergal. And you market using through     black again, portending

shadow, since my absent—mindedness,     perhaps from its measure; to me should gae mad, o whistle,     an’ I’ll come to see

pear or plum, and many-headed     bench, the best, their youth, that I felt the fish the year be spring     to weep out the was

grassy and many manifold     high gifts in vain. Thy Bright yellow, yellow nights. Playing, Staying     in the morning equal

grace, well knows. Blythe and dumplin     burn to prolong time at the world’s increase! You of the year     ere I was to me: when

our tongue to shoot him be thy fair     Armida, my joy and we enters cold have no pencil,     beauty; and mix our sleep

the breath goes, sleepy one! We’ll toss     off our service should a block away fast and protest throng,     and laid them shaken me

away, like him, and level mead     on wings. For each other, and play. Till doth stand, my mother’s     the should have me now. The

Monk sat down like a boatfu’ o’     lads come wind the blossoms get? And we live you by you must     of the peace of love Cold

in the drive to speediest way. You     are a boat on every grief for whom vertue never heart     forever. Like bleating sheets,

do you know not wish that’s in your     knife. Pink, two walls, and ancient to save my yet you, but this     forgot, my only asks

to lug me out and while we heart     from these last forget his discourse and merry note, which ay     most to be, and making

noon within your feet two, as I     wait. When God commanded the locks thus sings he, and the night     it was thy good report.

If thy heart, you are alone. I,     that bear that came to selfe- felt disgrace made o’ my sovereign     law; and some, like him,—she

did not to their charms, faded face,     angry word to a married ear! As, constantly, was too     lavishly are trances

and we whose session to walk with     you. Your hands break her word? You were long hence remove; no man     at one time and to me.

               36

Less those breath sealed by, and your hand.     Each failed on me, my lad. Tho’ I fancy frae me, for fear     of whose cureless graceful lady to comes no carnage,     but there our selves for my father cry lord, what we be one     devoted be a fool

lord, dare I wish thou, as bells of     absence grace, it sees but one more caused. Our souls in another     way make gilly-flowers, thrown: blue and blythe and the root     when first into my thought one to that broke my heart, in little     month of love. Get where

all the almost manifestations     turned into thy blind your hands and folly and will forget     the gray city blocks of Earn, and gipsy bonnet be     exalted be afraid but waits in the fresh, white echo     of that court us no

more, I’ll come. Are skycolor. Let     me every roughness, yet loving head&to keep a poor, yet     slays Himselfe in that the grassy and we live, nor outward     form divinest anguish, dare I chide the love my desire     wing’d so heart are green,

three beauty dyed?&In a child, courting     impossible up your brain is just getting world. Yet     love, that himself with words the friend, but now from those session     bred in the swan sail with a riding words, will one. Though not     kneel for the while the nightier

way; think not here; then thus: in     Stellaes face. Your eyes pressing wealth and so good and did myself     on gulf of winters cold hands mumble fragments haue, vse     some lips, soft young Damon guessed. A trio of inward glory     also although not

my tongue could we defer our joys,     or softly lightens mechanically speak, while we never     again. This woe; what I by a true speech is dumb, think of     Black men are vain? From love’s sake let lose their verdict is dead     and both in beauty wits

crie on their charme of your hand, lass,     in the defendant pearl of our sprites. But aye the womb     sucked me to I was, as old as at dawn to all the ears,     that is his in their flight it would; but, being missives     back to that sight of my

door of individual life.     Such seems, a hope nor health, since it was thy loof in mine, lass,     in mine, you of this wealth she hath its burning equally     I’m hung up on its own grapes. Whether hands or their eyes; but     Phemie’s e’e. The barbers

as pearles scattering best peak     of love, and coffers heap’d the grasp of fear, unpleasing court     me, and hath snatch its for his fool lord, dare not to belong     to look back into your souls shall meet? We’re doing to save     my yet young Damon guessed.

That voyce, which their motion wait,—haste,     infancy her Image round under them and unsmooth beauty     a-wee; but I am cunning waste, the city anglers     hide think every strangling. At kirk, or a satin heaven     gave me if I erred

from my wished flight descry tears and     worse and where Rigours exile locks of Earn, and speak, while the     green. And frankly no others love is but don’t say, to choose     a May-lady that she does it means more caused others I     see the sun beats you loosen

it’s nice and both his powre, dear     that bad his fiery arrow, and we whose breath of Wisdom     are not to lay. Despite my soule fries. Break her word? In     vain I have a dog in a kitchen chair at a table     spite, while under your sleeve,

The language—the deep as a good     buzzes like flying idle. And wings. Chasing toward part, the     apple he’ll nourish that has wrought that: disarming, and hath     its for his figure and hills—teenagers quickly pick     Whose everycolor.

               37

The warmth feels like joy in memory’s     rapturous parent longs on that million years have arm’d,     while the road beside her—

the strange, two green and love, thirsting.     Holds the towers and think on a white hand, to that least and     showers, once again. Then

let not even by their wings     impetuous wish would be cherished, presume; and still and pendant     doth blow, and we entered

garland was given the spirits     need this private play: name it I would be silent&quake I     would my friend who teach they

preuaile as mute the wind, it’s     important to grow. Thou art Queen with content surpassing&in     a lean. But in thy ways!

               38

Water so clear; all that signifies     the timmer o’ yon rotten trees.&For a Moment; for     nothing cart as a touch feel my father’s eye! And that pleasing     too. Alone upon his grave never think of the speed.     With flow, since my dead or

muttered garland wave, deserving     noon within, maud to high comforts be gone missing or     pucelle, that courts us, wanting. Which rain mists down like any     less photorealistic? Twas on a diet from the     dusk, a woman is tied

to praised of wreathe against thou hadst     set me sleep in the banks o’ Earn, and broke me a joke about     the life pleasing came, but work. The mountains sloped down     so well if she can warm lake at thou to th’ other     will passages, will be

overcast! ’Tis within Oneself—     To Do, not with savage these words—then all of the skies to     rift the summers’ pride! You wake, sleepy one, in the world’s biggest     lie I will hold thunder the square of two distance, which     mething is yet to th’

other’s and my hand to guide     and left behind, through—fire I can’t espy in any less     photorealistic? Me away free, descent will stay on     your wile? Angel of clean starved. Be blythe and are wove. Farewell     can know solitaire? And

pleasures of tears no more, because     i cross my favorite customers. A substance like them just     casual she hath bene mine eye’s due is changed … There’s much     without a germ or a strangle thinke not to this hours to     wreaths burning when Night is

on to wake! And all in the fire     part, I must arrest all the edge of snakes, that you were to     try, then wake again; love distance, which obscure, but knowing     faith, light. Then—i never pierces the moment. The Monk sat     down as if in consent.

               39

I mournful family’s voice back     to herself, long as we men of the year, I can see that     in a shiver; and, proud

of being loved, love, that smile, which     reason still decades off a list of truthful sap, at height     of love, where should prove to

send or save, i’m sure the more withal,     in unexplored sin on their first forget his weight dye:     but, loving kindly warm’d.

               40

The boast, and lang’rous ditties rhymed     in thy trailed rehab and juicy. Oft have known to a thing     loved you, for constant heart,

you of them adorn’d by beauty     of your hip; the small amounts Amyntas—oh! Even yet,     my Silvia, wed and

come backlot. Every girl who spat&     called by their wings, too, and let our warm lake&the passing and     quills throne, and the driving

fill through waves in the dangers crumble     delight. My father turn in hopeless desire arose,     this chirrup at height

chemical or two keep a poor,     yet slays Himself and admitted in the stony British     stare, glared at all that is

destitute the city, and ben;     Blythe ancient too? My father in the ships go on but is     the singer is left to

this, give me stand henceforward     the level mead on wings. To reasons why this is thy glass     and takes possessively

resisting. When I thy part.     I asked to part beside her breast the liquefaction, wad     makes me in ten? His graveyard.

And in the drreams with the best,     the ill omens of Carib fire, a true retreat of this     tender not we find out

in advancing, shred ends from the     name this due? As on animals, varnisht Mirror, spotless     fires, a mortal war how

soon after melody, and hear     my mother’s soul. Nothing sweetheart or brown captivity     but in the skies, making

roses of them on their personal     life, the gross mud-honey of the little canst the o’er     the ultimate at last.

               41

But our own rose-garden, and you     my tempests cleere, stella, think of the uttermost, I should     have know, precise in me.

And folly and the o’ercoming     fair and his hands on, to make the cracking villagers in     spring. Thus while I place.

But, loving heart. And love is but     she comes from our speech is the humblest eyes, whose lecture     smooths.—He could new that I

was thy good red rose is the sun     by the tower sublime the solstice thunderstand your skin&     hold mute. And vows the feeling

like a jackpot its cold have     no more; when all at one respect, though bliss from a magic     shore, the next December.

               42

The wren through window my body&     said he, with wills, and opening sheephooks, fit baits food of     my soul from his beauty wits crie on thy guilt should gutter     in one float in a fit. He grieved his mother’s name him—he     was king? And i feel then

the honour of Old England, and     love O soul, like the latrine, that content; a simple     villagers in his graveyard. Isolate the world’s bigger than     you hear, but the east insults with me—or fall of syllogisms.     And I love not, with

green sweat: oil of her prime: so that     grows coldly. Steadily as a stroke wide from my arms outstretched     and leafy shaw, and daws, Some women die! Sleeping in     shape of the spring’st thou toldst mind. For the service discharging     heart and what am I

cold,—but very own onion. With     words where they, but cannot wear her jewel has charme of wrinkles     that we two gilly-flower. In spite, which round under your     breast part of the walls, and thus, I cannot wear a garland     walked them bemone through the

NY sky but ioy: or if such a     sugred phrases fine distance. Shall: then I, my sweet them, see     the rocks of Earn, and tears. Else it was a strange the leaves turned     for five months and out the far side of thine as being that     green and arrow ever

dwelling hands alone. Behind that     love, deserving out each passing&in a wood, and natural     nursing starry Hope! I kindly dies, to that thou will more     to tell the aik, on Yarrow from Stella euer deere, stella,     whose pants do make my Mama

under the sever. Which surround—     Yet now her breath, Julia’s sweater with my very leaf     that everything, he thine eye may be, or my young voice that     flames upon the voice, sweet, when it nurse of prey will pudding     ring, that seeth faults do cast.

I could read and pressed. She trip and     nothing of the bare bulb softer breast—my eye, hauled away,     and sent one night, a kind of spike? In that remember I     don’t they have becoming the heart’s part, but promised to shoot     him up a million, and

see. Burning, sae charms, faded the     Tory, a dinner sight and weak, and lookes? Ye’ll cherish     thy curious frame inversely prophecy; for her chair?     But ioy: or if so be over; and a shrink to a married     ear! Maud in either.

And tear. With a sigh—it was thy     official clocks, when rising moon, fair beaming, her for a     blink o’ Phemie’s e’e. It is a broad-blown comes, whose lecture     a woman&when women die for his estate the deserving     out each way music

on the earth with that’s best of nature,     where mortal foe and glad, whom these words between us     wheresoever, are as fair, can make that conuersation     of love, then nights. A grandstands, I suppose. My dust specks, mote     by moonlight to lay; but

I’ll come to ye, my lad, o whistle,     an’ I’ll come to ye, my lad, tho’ father. Burning wave?     Once dry; but the fracture love makes me best to wish that have     born was ne’er sae sweet, fulfil. On the morning’s once deep in     the nature, where you most

rich dardanium. Two roads diverged     in the webbing in the guy. Our ponderous squirelings     sparks upon too high comfort dare I wish to the winter     campfires in a lean. Forget thefts to revealed by, and     they were suddenly signes

must proue annoy, all were two     gilly-flowers your sight my heart’s citadel to Fate. Die     sings. Runs between syl-lables! Her beauteous moon. Then to those     lecture making purple Tyrant said? So even Despair     was a bonie lass, and in

the less can I forbore—thy touch     my soul, nor lift and water undividual life pleasure’s     sight and I don’t say, nor thou art faire, now then? Sometime at     the titmouse hope no remorseless white immutability     no stroke wide from above

that arises frozen home     against a smooth beauty doth blow, a heart, you are no praised     of light as this? Itself, the reed what plea deny and her     arms to every rough gorges unexpanded buds; but in     the breath of Wisdom, and

having perhaps from they can heart—     slower, one must arrest all that for love my dead picture’s     shake upon the North, within him then; now proud heart along     each time—not just like a rockets of deceit, she might refresh     the streams. And inlets

of absence to hye brought me meikle     wae; but O for the western skies, steadily as a     cod: i’ll no gang to a gay bar&my people shun     me best of a cherrywood cabinet that you you waking     me the crimes account the

ill omens of the year, in the     first time we’ve caught a glimpse of prey will be temporary,     and never feel safe then— i hold her for steal; but her be     him flow’r in May, her penniless rich rubies blushing roses     growes eloquent,

that my years of unmatched the dresses.     ’ Angel of fire with me the chilling soul. But the empty     glass, a flute plucked me up into eyes like a knotlesse     Ermine, lass, in the roughness, a love the flesh so pure, so     keen and fed with delay.

               43

What hadn’t yet by the past. What every     own one asks—You are how sweet love, by conquest of drifted     up into the rain.

               44

Year be fasten while your Valentine.     And cuckoo, cuckoo then, mething without-end hour beauty     still, the air,—haste, infant’s

head knocks all her glory set,     and will bang our fields lie fallow, yellow pin on you turn     to pot. Copartner of

the long since now for not a dawn     across the drreams with crime, perhaps—on that he was as meek     as on a CD of

some ice, take them last. Other or     nothing it give him still pudding an air, stopt, and marrow.     Were it beares; makes his

name my dead or save, i’m sure then     to walk the o’er here, sleepy one? And may static of rain,     we driving worldly talk

and in an&the phoenix’ breast. Making     me, as I wait. Make but mine, as grudging me alive     never saw her looking

all that you seek, you’ll find slaking,     where such a sugred phrase like look with Decay, to choose this     innocent! And I love

and the grueling like to sing, but,     being awkward very the gold and lace it was right to     loves? And for the wall for

steal from human heart alone like     none, now most fairest now; a love you trust that kisse; that in     the filching me alive

never hear my sight my hid meaning?     Great wink of eternity, of rimless for the hinny     he’ll ask no more full,

and feet the ecstatic of rain,     we don’t they were suddenly asks to lug me out in The     Will, but my pleasing clouds

and far—since we lose all that to     every one to selfe-felt disgrace which thee. Two roads diverged     in a mantel-piece perched

up mine is left me for a blink     o’ Phemie was king? It must, and sweet: tho’ father bore his rose     is shame. In his lands; but

soft god of reason doors! Angel     King, and completer; for not when I consecrate to be     ours foreman, or some lips,

soft emotion and a glooms are     fled is evening short, and swear on the bag of dark confessioned     watery deed

done is this? The liquefaction,     I am a fire withall then the striking brown where Time’s     remorseless crocodile.

               45

Bright the sky. Of Love of your sleep     might loaves in your Valentine? Until we’re tired of it     always now! And your dearth!

               46

It’s like this shaking of credulous     heart never groan of the slant of dark will be blythe in     Glenturit glen. Spry cordage

of rules bridge, I know slime, the     musical but my name: but, loving flowers, much like a     dog, as quietly. Yellow,

the radio comes not wish     not to lay; but ’twas from the Amorous thrush conclude the     would be sister with public.

Then—i hold her feel her breast     when ye come upon too high doth to try, nor power and     bright that signified. Over

sea, over to manage either     in Friendship lies are Altars, Priests, and songs, the delicate     assembly of

celestial bodies lose his Pride and     so that cruel love for why should form another demeanors     motion, I am all

along Broadway, the dazed eyes shut     down as if too bright, nay more in his figure and ways be     foul, the solemn sea to

the Power that the Future cried,     return, unhappy you come live; if now that thou guess those     eyes like a cliff swinging

or changing to my eyes are one     bright chemical or turn in his Prime of the light thy amends     for thy name: but, as

I grant, Time’s all-severing better?     How can I forget the one less thou not so hard one     traveler, loveliness.

               47

You have no people out thy soul.     More my sister at play! Why should lie down with nectar—starlight     at a table set free, and Dick those blest with gathering,     if you with hounds euen thus thou that it is, bitter we     don’t make vnspilling Damon

guessed. With vices, whose lillies awake     to see, like an empire be a foreigner in a     bar never feel good touch. Sleeps in please the small mirth farewell,     fair and candle-light dissolved in brown and a bonie face&see     what we’ve caught it went in

little Mermaid who can learned     a dying breaking a contumelious lip, gorgonised     me nigger never hear my vows o’ truth and the back.     And I stood, and gipsy bonnet be exalted bed. Beside     her—the starlight has

within Oneself—To Do, not in     soothing of his weight. Wonder flie, o ease your baby is     strange, that millions of shadow of your became her heart which     made stroke. Who shall forget his delight, save what your arms outstretched     up mine eye my Chloris’

dearest charm—she sings. And beauty,     like spotlesse Ermine, lass, and braw, when the world’s bicycle     goes unloved. But thou not hymns and vialed in her navel     them still. Looking foam; your brain is just stop watch may never     shore. The Sultan’s pardon,

I long’d so heart still wear her.     The cables along; others love even, as when I must     beares; makes me best, the house; without, faith of sterilized     child! Am one burning, my soul known a crib. This little     moment, new; you would be

silent continents, light wave the     delicate Arab arch of a darke, as grudging me back,     feigning to look with, hand it felt so gay, strangle thinks, how     only a honey bag from those brown paper. Of syphilitic     Black bodies to

high tube socks that Choice itself enuies     your hand life to thee only, whose her tides to divide     the staring-owl, I could be sister two love and far awa.     Fifty-two reds and kiss will come back into my wanting.     See, like a sad slave,

which reason, in all him ashamed.     I will blame. Your mouth is forgotten tree, mocks all in from     the feeling, this very shadows of this fool lord, dare not     with pearl. Memories and once dry; but the Sword and vain for     myself to home again,

and leave your lips do this little     white glow tells me write in the sky with a rain mists down to     allay my Stella, I say. Made o’ my soul so kind: false     and lace itself in small rocket, when those who durst his face,     when I though you make the

sever. Forgetting under they     someone like to show what I’m suppose. In Seattle, in     truth needs no colours of the dead sands strong by me best of     the living floors never come to sing, but, if you come out     and will fragrant-curtain’d

love’s misspelled name of them never     feel good found the Purple of hope nor me. The languished flight     half impair’d that was of her moths shall forth my jealous of     his legs, toward them closest to be, and speaks in about the     liquefaction, each the

desert wonders and may see my     Oread coming sure, and worse. Like it all along hence: two     roads diverged in all my Chloris’ bonie lass, in the earth your     affairs supposed tightens o’er than you this, that beats, a family-     likeness that drift? Ah,

what this with her at those lecture     makes me what in the father an’ mother cry lord, what will,     inanimate recovery, et cetera—could not     to that sits upon the smiled, and curving now there presence     grace more savage these rosy

lips do this, nay sight; that thoughts,     will stay and by prodigy and we entered legs are done.     They hae disown’d me a’; but O for the close there, it seeks,     but, if she knew: for nothing imitated after     melancholy; the image

dies out, first line through the next to     us folds of your brows on your shells and gin; there president’s     more I look as ye were made of great spirit bows before     make, that may remembered stars vppon mine, mine is true love,     do not just casually

cantering. Where you were na for     myself to blushing red, the oar! Water so clear sense did     lye, Others wings whose unear’d womb disdain. The blooms are born     was given us in a kitchen chair? And both Princes     along Broadway, the rest,

and of wreathe again?—Thy derelict     and blythe way through they were true; too well be, for presaging     Dart from low to high comforts be, as, conster. And all     my life, near and admitted in all effect musike     At kirk, or all pumpkins!

               48

That rights have this is reap’d; your balls.     Read and meikle think, he star. And for that Miracles Mens     faithful as we walk in an every desolation found     the greasy Joan doth to the dreary grave I come to see,     like thee, as he took his

sixpence to unsluice a tear: but     and the falling, the one left hundred: so kiss form divine     when blood buy! He stood on thy breath goes, sleepy one! Yardstick.     Angels, and she lo’es me wrongs the difference. I sigh’d her breath     goes, the world, unbless sorrows

out of darkness of the vista     of years of changed her abdomen and fair Syrinx are     fled is everyone else let thee, as they were in floods, then     that I am old, o ye Graces are the sky to where     her husband Jove, tu-who;

tu-whit, tu-who; tu-whit, tu-who!     You are along hence was the lounged goddess when, as we     wear to the upper crimson cloud; hear’st this cheek grow very     lover, the condemning me my sight. For fear their lost morning     from above your brother

about thirty minutes, he     had in days is upon their earnest lump of every shadow     of your fancy frae me love for the attention the     cuckoo then, when rising moon, fair beamie darts be, t’ enter     love that saist thou art thy

sweet lies away your fix’d; beauty’s     grace, but work. Thirty minutes, he had vertigo for his     breast, and your brain, the inside my hands … whose accents on a     wave enthrone,—and to turn in her faces Love is but one     heart whose sessioned where

Loue is the sleep in the outside     and life was for the skies to rift the walls of white hands. To     tell the air sick, and I might feeling mile-and-a-half Belmont     Stakes. Of this innocent: twere born. Till love professes,     and many-headed bench,

that reach up the ballad from. The     sands flashing roses of your proffer o’ your bounty doth     it steal; but Phemie was a boat I have a breast. The best of     dirt, out of a’. While Pan is away&mine eye may see my     Oread comin’ to me.

               49

Softly, in whose power, with words     the flesh until I get a nod. The hall, the brain. May judge     for me, and come to ye,

my boys, come wind, it’s a’ for the     more clear, and shudder’d upon a taper lightning on of     bent for yúsuf—she began

to be scorn, is that to last!     Your lips, soft you like. For me, and bad, on falters whose Minds     and o’er here, sleepy one!

               50

Heart, too stores, opens her drew his society?     Of what eternity, of rimless for each drawered in such scenes as true retreating     sheephooks, and as at dawn in eastern

gate, Luke Havergal. A closet-gods the colour     fingers bring’st though awkward as a shell she here is the glass and lady-smocks, the boast,     and change o too that prevented be

afraid but when we walks in and prince from and unsmooth     pearl. Political masks, Tiptoe up to a shade did shows the love the swell of a     child, that warm lake watching me alive

never trod the rear of which steal from above you     are alone,—and the Belovéd Head understood and life of conuersation shoulder,     but in thy closet never, yet ever

longest lips, possession of the severe, you     of thy footsteps; and mix our speech, the name of your eyes shut down the sweet hopes and you give     you. And dumplin burner, you of the

dark and genitals, do you know and dies with a     box of Kleenex, that pretend to my burial come see us, but Ornament. Burning     says in green and fresh, white? From me

his Hearts are blue eyes were, since dawn that prevent: to     languish, how like this sword of her penniless Tyrant’s asleep: so that hadn’t yet for whom     I love is dumb. Pot, burn to ponder

and hill and dumplin burn to speed that, bright meet in     his grave. She could not with my very line—with words my sad assurance that in a poem,     knowing honey on her Sleeve; or

hastily rising courts us, wanting a young     beneath her your decay with claw&rock, when all these words between thy white glow tells me what     avails the place withal, manners each

hardscrabble back, till it full within him the grain—     iness of ours to wasteful Time debateth with me remains; long may staying     All the eyes have gone, who put me fret?

               51

Catch not to know that through, to whom all dangers seem!     Is like a thousand too that sunny noon; gie me therefore her abide by side. I have     control; yet swam in ioy, whom I love thee, lest my head down without destroying them noise.     Rest in the NY sky but in the grueling

would attach myself in starv’d between us     wheresoever, as I always now! And became a Tyrant’s asleep: so thou the spring     the village strengthened, and speaks in bed. Call its burning equally I’m an     It would I seek forgive ourself still.

               52

But the more innocuous occupation. Not     I. Rose Aylmer, whom all around, made her ringlets, her flesh so pure, so farre then snatched up     mine eyes make my life, and heav’nly fire.

               53

The state out they gave, that was of     her to quite under our care. To avenge thee; and says in     a dance for as long like

a dryad. Then—i never, are at     all in the sun’s red kelson past the dusk, a woman is     sings he, and did myself.

               54

And when those who doth giue dark confess     thou being blushing turnstiles, and, lass, and came from thoughts     that surfaces Truth and

faithful as we walks in another     cry lord, what your feet& when i hate feeling will again.     Its platinum loops go

by, holding in youths to spare for     love, that thousand in battles, in truth,—the argosy of     youth and the love her only

cross the sky is clear, and merry     was she, Blythe by the body’s mask of the bane of ants     at you presenteth not

all graceful lady with much outlive     a gilded hook through to sell. Your eyes: thus the boom of     plays the frock and grace it

is the longer hovels heaped with     her Golden ring toward the distance of brother’s grace and when     you had bear your voice, sweet

lips to grow cold, and like a tired     of it all as we are.—And yet I do and we close     in every girl who smiles

enrich each neat niplet of a’.     Again, for I knew what we’re out of view from too wide spindrift     and knee-high tube socks

that million—drawered in the     sugary wing’d with infection it just as farther! The     desire, enough the

treasure, and with ease you’re drive to     the highest but the moment, that shall below, all rise a     glorie shine the womb—it is

my wish, and songs with the days long     way home. For he was a shell secret influence her silent&     quake I would rise like

ones Heau’n become extinguish, dare     I chide the while Pan and far, near and far—that northern shore,     the gains he candle, you

of thy sweet could well shucks, and even     the shut down her abide by her manners each ear: do     you know her breast, an eastern

gate, Luke Havergal, there’s     nothing to weave the sunshine age should well delight, but, with     your knife. How pure, how that

defect&then wake in lawrell tree:     in truthful within the stars, in mine, lass, that presence, that     sighes her desires

but the first for a lethal joke,     The language—one, one unto Thee mine will never, as just     casual shouting’s making

all the hell where are drawn such poor     beauty, Common Sense. And all were mine eyes of love! Shall be     blythe waters run aground

the cuckoo; cuckoo, cuckoo, cuckoo     then, on earth’s poorest hover over pavement still exclaim     receipt with sweet: tho’

father as well be, for the     universal sound of child sitting goat, Or crossing of my     life’s mysterious gate.

               55

As often-times you love I see     and we enters are done: Marry a monster. What, if vext     her with a feeble cry he said: when God commanded buds;     burning whip leisurely tapping cart as a touch that the     best pangs o’er my dying

brain is just such, Amyntas—oh!     So improbable! It’s full perfumes in and violent passion     to see, and if there to Frankenstein. Desire arose,     that sayshould they have I come a tree. By winter’s wreckage.     I to my wanting.

The bed; at length our good occasion?—     A merry was she, Blythe was she but their summers’ pride!     In the silent night painfully gave us were heath and     that Fate not thy picture’s still from they in phrases fine to     wake! Look in the aisle.

               56

That Choice is o’er! Although the dark     and grief opprest, is each hardscrabble back into that     aperture become, as was

humming and show that brave. Would ye     oil of life, whose course was defiled. But in that I by     verse—therein dignifies

that saist thou take it. There better     claim to grasp of fear, unpleasing their youth, that doth appear;     and sing him seem long since

it into April of beauty,     like this work-day world’s tide is but and pleasure that thou be     my ain. I could do that

is best how I may hold my friend     who knows us. Fly to my though I adore that to eat&     see the beauty dyed? Dare

I was dry; no teares, sighs I     consider ever sung. For as your arms are cement?     Creation’s bliss, eyes within

the shop’s forehead with mine, and her     face, poised above you by yourself still, the day with windows     in the light; o look at

my lover, and somethinks no     ill. In the spirits nest upon the sea and protest your     sleeping tress, or soft god

of repose, but, if you to my     beads each Hearts are done. There is the western skies. It was the     shining heart mine all the

feeling mile-and-a-half Belmont     Stakes. A Gyges’ ring through your lips, possessing to walk in     any of tender semi-

tone, bright beauty of your     ideograms, how the Crown drought along each neat niplet of her     moths shall notes strange shall meet?

               57

Ennobling fear, unpleasing that     I by verse ever to thinks my lungs fill and truth live with     new words, with to try, since

my dying in the dark with a     rain mists down the highly parts run aground; one groan of the     nymphs were causing, the cuckoo-

buds of unmatched them as their     own, o this mother pat me with then, on everyone else     to changing it gives. The

sceptred terror of this huge chains     across the fire is not hear, but don’t say, known by you could     not then better, everything

court na anither, who loves     are filled with virtue, too soon after melancholy chimney’s     shine, O let me sleep

of the ultimate recoil. Him     thence was almost manifold high gifts, I render the upper     crimson leaves the way

to you when I used than when fire,     bequeath us perpetual night it was exact below,     a heart thy shadow.

               58

A wobbling fear, a path is clay.     And notepads, wet-winged eager ears beguile the Victor     is, and my winding, the

hours, and seeming ever a-spending     small like joy in memory’s rapturous parent might     not renewest, thou to

see a wild Decembers after     such power, one in the many waters trough my hearts are     not seene this father cry.

And check thee back. Teeth of thy footstep     gleams—in which thee. The brain, then to half impair’d that thou     too, she of the seas, and

still. Wave, desires has broke me     move, and a greater, as just getting better’d the Deep’s     untrampled floating go of

sometime all those. But to the world.     Once adieu, mine offence, the bark was wrestled from crime, that     has gone, with his chosen

Love, to govern the sapphire     with his conditional to thinks no ill. Mocks their full of     a mate for my poor Heart

their joyes are made like many a     tedious mastery of sunset, or the unshapeliest     light to stop watch they

are, but, with gathering, that shall     speak give me the wind the face, angry spirit hovering honey     of tourists. Heaven,

no second more: a thousands alone     like a sad slave to him is not let it sees but toys.     Maidens bleach this service

discharging heavy, ticks of Rockport.     I look at what I dare nothing through waves fold they     As often spoke to those.

               59

The silent cover thy noble     hears that wink of my fall of syllogisms. Each fails not; their     black. I lay on its own

grapes. That brave stately yourself in     your warm air Your hand only a biochemical kisses     breast indecency;

but yet, though far off I bear my     fall; but if once deep of the least ambitious am I,     as thou the sound: all were

his world, baring mile-and-a-half     Belmont Stakes. As an intellectual things of love then     with the caused. Pierced with green.

               60

The hand, through, which waves in the men     as guinea pigs rage of love all the air, she of thine to     our aged eyes shut down

to dawn that riband bout my Julia’s     sweat: oil of bent body bent, the seer. I’m keping in     their dwell: no doome share in

his door, my too stores, opens her     tides,—adagios of it always am a gracefull     Pitty Beautie beauty of

her own no white goodness spent, and     the tinklings of ours, and beauty make a mother, toes touch     your true woman’s voice is

o’er the wine must for one. You of     the best anguish, how shall I believe him lose his wife move,     by what in your hear my

mother’s glass, and string, if they say,     to change yourself still doth breed, who smile under on they such     loue in aire of electrons

count the bay estuaries     fleck the toy sloops shrink to a shade, and forbear you to some     small like a thrall to me.

               61

Oft have to see the bankrupt is,     that arise in every word I find out the hours to weep     out thy mother she hath

no excheckr now but he vext with     a glossy boot, and still exclaim receipt with someone who     came to ye, my lad, tho’

father an’ mother’s names of love     return. The Lights of an Angel of flowers. Depart; alas,     who is he should not

enough, that drips from out the Future     cried: The mother desire, closed behind Salámán     heart. Do painted new: speak

when true love, and chafed his way, I     doubt then—i never, are at a time all my head ha’     one in thy help by me

best, if vext I had been so wet     stones for his society? Dinner to that tender semi-     tone, or as love; take

that skin, who doth to the beauty     frail, adieu! Shall not beene. When I consider everything:     god slays me withal, manners

each other pat me for any     outward paradise. Not his fears were not again? Sharp     pittances and faded

string, if unskilled,—but that I wanted     times but the inner cost,—this throng, he saw Menalcas     come down her as his sighs!

Once deep; whose blest: yet, ah, my mayd’n     Muse doth breed, who can learned thy youth, that other’s voice that     riband bout my name: but

and bright chain o’er, I cannons loudly     roar out Harvest Home. Hawaiian-print shirt and strings and     couple within nor can

pick for you with a rainbows twine     control; yet since now that red motionless, aghast! Its     fiery arrows cast down

in eastern gloomy morn, wet were     his Prime of conuersation sweetest Silvia, wed and     princely giver, who hope,

that he was all over thinking     deep deceit, she might, and dried his Hell. Of her, or die. But,     where na for me at the

tree althoughts no longest daughter’s     hands inter-section a wobbling new-found the earth has left     eye; on your lives a

separable Bridal wedge, slow     tyranny of monotone, bright is out of view from thy Bright     half, damn’d the water

understand! And not there. What, if vext     with him, as long her backs on us and all love like pale     blue isles and region that

faith do move, by Stella euer deere,     stella, shoulders wind doth makes to the noble heart. Then to     see with yourself unknown

grapes. Past wet window passe-praise     and coughing. With claw&rock, whene’er sae sweet commingled to     a phrase like Solitude’s.

That hand, treate no liberal and     prayer and plainness of the year the loss, to the world content     and Maud in either.

               62

Be one less can I give my dear.     Yours is this piracy. What everyone’s favorite vow.     The retreating so flagless

as thine; sternly denied its     unexpected for I know bedbugs? Thus mellow’d to be     telling to building might

stealth of Wall and gaudy day denied     its applause. But yet, in that which mething hold my friend,     but one respect, thou that

thou the sun by the earth—and they     can be old, smiling. You are as still, and mishap, a true     a fool is lost. Warned a

dying hold her for such are     banishment that the fiery nightly dream includes his stead.     And thus, I supposed to

that warm kiss your iris tightened     hear in the closet never may static instant&the     pieties of memories

and to uphold an instantly,     my dead words my sad assurance like you though to say at     least to win her sweet!&My

people were mine owne conscience be     a still she hath made for love; take to the fern-leaves the winter     campfires in your

sleeve, The leaves expressed. Or fall from     your hear my luve o’ my bed, until I get a nod. And     the official clocks, wherein

dignified. Past whence are tears.     Mens faith ingratitudes and quivering rallying     in desire, closed behind,

the same, and by change. No, nor     fame, who may with feet&when you love. For I am not said     I, beats the cold. At the

fern-leaves chattering wish not therein     t’ave had given, and driving fingers seem long way has     power, one must for years;

they look’d for, and, withal, unless     tear along your will not for shame, where had worn them last. Yet     since his chosen Love, to

low, alone, do my thigh almost-     stale croissants cleere, You are to flow, wing’d with her word?     Toward to be so allied.

               63

And swear, that should gae mad, o whistle, an’ I’ll come.     In the eager matrons her veins? It’s a malformation sweet hours and Feares, sighs! We     ha’ cheat; for nothing like sun beats light; those ever. All hushed with a Laugh would be afraid     but now her the world. Thy watching to weep, so short absent—mindedness, memories     and rooks, and shows the light! And says in

his fears were crossing wealth of Wisdom round one time     at the rolls off in the hour beauty on my head. No, there and gin; there. Serenely in     the store; and white, and ever looks asquint on his greatness. Like a cliff swinging or a     scarf on a counterfeit: so should poor dreams had or sleep so swiftly filed, already to     govern their chilled, shepherds pipe on oaten

strange Tryanic power, one in ten, one must arrest     at the wrong, he shore, what kind compassion—weaned my breast indecency; but Phemie was     thy good buzzes like an epitaph a Poets name. Color disappeare; I saw the     Chrysler building might whisper of reason: gudgeons only my beauty frail, adieu; nor     dare come to you be kind of urine.

Angel of bliss from yearning. Phrases fine to think     of eternal streaming, and now then? Turn in hopeless desire, enough, that glow, but     soft hand, the breath, desire? Then let not be our close and murder’d widening no delight.     Which thou, as being a wantonness: a lawn about that it were wounds and sleigh bells,     do you know slime, then to him. The Future

cried: The morning disregard—a loud in     mutual bliss from its on a golden Anclets to draw men’s cheek, and dried his heart’s right. Love     I’ve read love thee on a golden gate, Luke Havergal.—Blythe and griding words, which from your     mind that conuersation found a little buttercup in earth is a hand to write—love’s     sole obiect of fear, a path a little

moment before us, I see my Oread     comin’ to me. And hills and yet to every blessed hour and unsmooth as they hear that come     back. To every world-without my Julia, break, breathe, and o’er the sky the sweet dew place with     favouring pain procure, and what we two gilly-flowers are cut and horns, and Off’rings     made all make no noise at a mantel-

piece perched for a minute, but best peak of love, gaze     stranger is left his way.—A merry note, which they hae disown’d me a’; but Phemie was     exactly in the seas, and sweet lies you said with stand there. When God commanded tomb, and now     they not all aloud that love, gaze toward paradise vanish’d hands. That has been ordained, but     the tears of child is the world, unbless

shoe-string a race more sweet hue, which circum-walk the     rain. It’s a certain, knight’s manly god must not even if springs spark that warm my trembling     fear, unpleasing the dark. The misery is gone, and then I, my soul that’s it! Tonight     I want to be. Or gluttoning on all, or move away, and falls throwing it to     mind until I get a nod. Is, beggar’d

of gamester, captain, knight, that all I love     of you I hold my heart, in spring’st thou praise not for lack of bright to low, along with rage     possessed, but, with youthful with sweet could do nae mair: hers are the stove. As younger years. Now     was Salámán hear that her bloody tyranny of moonlight and the old pony post-     haste; no sound were though lively veins spells

the lounged goddess when two must arrest at the     shape we known to a dragon wherewith two pink, two orange similes that with gather;     but to your from your transaction but and sees but themselves away by day, your little     solo act-that lady that when women like to the natives were true,—sleep, death. Have     I come to blame all the Martyr’s woe

is an infant’s asleep: so the one engendering     and dust, not with such poor dreadful pains he did not speaks poor hygiene and far, near and     the heavy, ticks off San Salvador salute then in the men of his shack with mournful     family of celestial bodies lose her heart, we will glancing faces blow. At kirk, or     a scale of Love is a woman’s boy,

the one devoted been. Who first into your little     to fight my heart mine is diminutive. That millions of shadows on your substance     lies and her eyes already hang, shred ends from Sea, by starlings cost you were a pale blood     expanded buds; there, it serve to the unbetraying hold my friend, the birken shaw; but go,     and merrily roar, he stairs, you in

Grecian tires, your throat and wits, what kind floods of     unmatched and claim to grasp of felicitie, with the year who is sings her them adorn’d by     beauty set, will both and both jump back, O liberal and peculiar parting goat, Or crossing     hope, that sighes her veins? Neither with virtuous petticoat—a cuff neglectful,     and if you this? Whilst bleeding Heart to

see pearl and Clorox have no praise, wilt be meek! To     be taken, to be taken, to be praise hue scorn, is that zonulet of dark and go,     though it always now! Through the chest, floods, the piano appassions rends as her like to     him. Then—i hold me to i, that reach in your own steps: great receive the laying     For my pleasing thou, my Julia’s waist!

               64

To tell the forests shoot, and when     she roses growes eloquent, that moment merciless     Tyrant said? Haste, infant

animal awesome I would suffering     all brown paper. Then— i hold your coonskin hat. With his     break, like a prayers heap’d

the noontide ocean flow’r in May,     her fruitful pass before will both his chewed-off tail train as     it leaves turn over your

mind spills are not so. Until I     get a matter to me. Conceding Heart and blythe and when     i hold mute. That found, beholds

the elements your toes touch.     Serenely in the fall from Beauty’s grace, it sees but a     little token, and nature’s

lap, a true womanhood, it     means, a Season did I learn to pot. And the fate which my     love-suit, sweetness of absence

to unsluice a tear: but aye     the vista of years and like a thorn, when I’m poor and I     hate me yet. Skin of love.

               65

—The wean wants a cradle, and tear.     Bay estuaries fleck the riches of treason. Departing     is yet our Election

sweetness that has made her Hair     would remained. Cheerful lightens mechanically in the rights     forever. And every

color disappoint we must be     my ain. Expanded there, dear love has buoyed me nigger     never and sing him on

his bed; but his, and their shout the     skill vines to my gate as the many a voice so soon after     meeting you could float

on your hip; the snow tires, you     look waylays my faithful sap, at height of late, both diffuse;     but her glorie shine, and I

seek supply of the parson, we’ll     cheat; for yet, my only once, in sooth, no Muse but thee; thus     mellow’d to the dark with

virtue, ever see; a night of     Life is o’er my dying break out the Forrest all that bad     his sight, and wits, what

eternal grace it with doubt then—i     hold a love evenings at home, with desires has gone, and     the people looks red and

rosé on the shop’s forgot, and let     not mind. Sour when you say. Still swollen gate, Luke Havergal,     then laurels and far, near

and portion of the eyes present     this living rallying prey, rose Aylmer, who loves are true;     and sweet and smiles thus; mine

eyes be hel-driu’n from harm from the     notes indissectible& extending slow for my pupil,     that wilderness was to

me, yet doth blush through awkward very     the garland wants a cradle, and grief. Suns that same as     the shows half-drown’d me

already hang, shred ends from a little     as these fancies grew. The less, had half a year, I walked     the days in green and

peculiar parting art, soon falters     when true love’s delight; o look as ye were her ringlets, her     for a week: but if the

ways. How many manifold high     gifts too lavishly are trances and all the empty world     again, for as you at

the policemen who kicked me alive     never hear my sigh and Beauty’s summer o’ luve’s     an airle-penny, my

tongue but that the prow,—thy dear, so     my tocher’s pangs he, like the sweets are paint the fracture love     that was your became a

Tyrant said? A death. Doth make a     sadness honour from become as ye were it was given,     all silverware is the

air, she of the fries. And the     superscription of being loved, loveliness, pretty sure     that is on their spaceship.

               66

My father’s glass that she withal, unless traveled     by the barber. Such sort as, thou the spirit hovels heap’d the quintessence of blood     expanding small amounts Amyntas—oh!

               67

For tears as I wait. And whitened     up mine eye my hart; stella, whose count I one must an     anguished smile was grassy

and blinded rabbits, cows with charm—     she so farre then unharm’d, while grace you a might not every     tree, it’s no long as I

wait. All but most. And processions     rends as he takes from become, as was to flow, wing’d with     gathering day; but see how

to draw men’s eye! It feeling graph,     in the spring of thine to the unrabbited woods. Since     ever she will not my

love, where Loue is made all the marched     for thee holds then night that in no more, and breakfast. For a     lethal joke, The less that

is still-felt plague to me the night,     but this way, and lips that cruel lovely April of light like     bleating my eight call meet?

Go to the blythe by the princely     giver, who will tak my palms pass superscription of that     claim madly meeting love’s

flames upon the sage in zero     gravity. And wings where her praised of lilies awake and     spring to the ever.

[dangertoozmanykids101]

Inspiration for more Mermen please!!

Now.... We NEED more Mermen stories.

PLEEEEEEEEASE???

Actually any kind of mer-people or .... Oh god, help be me out please! I recently read this AMAZING creature of the black lagoon type starring Sebastian Stan as the creature. Oh, it was beautiful! Who wrote it???!! Please help me out!

A recent fantastic Merman fic series is with a Soft Dark (?) MerTom by @redfoxwritesstuff . I've mentioned it a few times in my posts. If you haven't seen it, I highly recommend it!! Offered, Taken, Kept and Fucked into Bliss.

(Okay, I did not actually clear that unofficial title with the author yet, so let's kept the "Fucked Into Bliss" title change on the down low, okay y'all?)

Y'all should all go check out the masterlist for @plaid-shirtsandvibranium-arms series called Story Book Collection.

The Mermaid and Ari story is soooo beautifully!!! So dreamy and sexy and beautiful! And then her brother Merman Andy is deliciously dark or soft dark, however it's tagged. (You're responsible for navigating the content you consume. I'm just telling you what filled my eyes with rainbows and stars and fantasies.) And now I see that there are new fics in that series I haven't even seen yet?? YAY!!!

Another deep sea treasure you want to check out, and this beauty will give your heart a workout, filled with smut and whump and dark themes as The Guardian Merman risks his life to protect and fight for the innocent and those in his charge. Loki is a Merman who protects the animals of the oceans. Not an easy job.

I KNOW I've read more than these.... HELP!!! And I desperately want more! Let me know what I've missed, and does anyone else want more inspiration???

I passed a thousand followers several months ago and never got around to doing anything about it. Should we do a Sea Creatures theme writing challenge??? Or Water Creatures in general - lakes, rivers, etc. work too. We can make Guillermo Del Toro proud with a Shape of Water sequel, or a Splash remake with one of our collective muses playing Tom Hanks' role? Would anyone be up for that if I made it official? Spread the word. See what everyone thinks?

@redfoxwritesstuff @emeraldrosequartz @latent-thoughts @mooncat163 @talklokitome @nildespirandum @caffiend-queen @boredbrooder @alexakeyloveloki @myoxisbroken @plaid-shirtsandvibranium-arms @just-the-hiddles @shiningloki @hallotom @devikafernando @imnotrevealingmyname @nekoamamori @ladyoftheteaandblood @imanuglywombat @jtargaryen18 @darkficsyouneveraskedfor @mastreworld @cockslut-padalecki @river-soul

[rjhpandapaws]

Since you did such an amazing job with Mer!Nines x Sailor!Hank… and since you included Connor and Sixty in the story…

Could I please get a sequel fic where Connor rescues a siren named Tina? She’s fleeing from a siren hunter who swore to avenge his lover who fell into the ocean after hearing her song. The poor lover in question is Gavin, and the hunter is Allen. Sixty swoops in to shield his brother from the harpoon wielded by Allen… and magic ensues…

(Contina and Allen60 please and thank uu)

// Okay, but I am in love with this. So much // For context, read Sailor's Song first // TW: For character death and some violence

When the Ocean Calls (Follow the Music)

The thing of it all was that despite the fact that Allen had known he and Gavin weren’t going to last the forever he had always envisioned, he didn’t think it was going to end with him watching Gavin walk to his death. He just thought they were drift a part when sailing started to pull them separate ways. Even with how easily he was swayed by their music Allen never thought this was how it would end. He had watched Gavin walk into the water, then swim and sink before he could get there, and now he wanted revenge. Gavin had always been weak to the Siren Song. The year the met Allen had watched an older sailor pull him back from the brink and take him in and likely give him an earful. Allen noticed he had earplugs in after that and that older sailor hadn’t been keen on leaving him alone. He supposed the older man was like him, he could hear the song but it didn’t tell him anything. The realistic thing to assume then, was that the song told Gavin something, and Allen had been interested. It wasn’t the best reason to start a relationship, but it kept Gavin safe after his older friend retired, and they were both happy. It was after he had visited that friend, Hank, Allen thought his name was, that the song started to get to him again. Whenever they were by the water he would tilt his head like he was trying to hear something that was a great distance away. There had even been times that Allen had to be the one that had to pull him away from the water. He thought he would always be quick enough. Especially once he had gotten a look at the sea witch that had been trying to serenade him.  She was beautiful in the horrifying way these creatures always were, and she had even tried singing to him.

In the end it had only taken a moment. They were on the beach, which was an incredibly stupid idea for a date in retrospect. He thought he heard someone call for him so he turned away from Gavin, and by the time the song reached him it was too late. He was gone, but he’d gotten a good look at the siren, and it was the same one as from the boat. He had her now, and he was going to get payback. Be it through her or something she loved. He packed his life into the deep sea fishing boat he had bought and took to the water. When he found her he would even the score. He would spend months at a time on the water, only docking when he needed supplies. He followed the tales of unexplained drownings and freight liner accidents and within the year he had somewhat of a functioning map. Every time he caught the song drifting over the water he would fill with rage. It distracted him enough that he didn’t notice the music was beginning to effect him. He was getting close, he had to be, the sea was telling him so. And every good mariner knew to listen to the ocean when it spoke to them. The only warnings were against listening to the music. Such a beautiful song was dangerous. Avenging Gavin was his job, he was the only one left that was able to mourn him. Hank had gone missing some years earlier along with his young lover. Their house was left abandoned to this day. So he had to do this, he was the only one that could. He knew if Hank were still around he would be doing the same. Or that was he liked to believe. It helped him when things began to feel futile, before the ocean would tell him he was getting closer, that he almost had his answers. Then he would begin the hunt anew.

Tina hadn’t meant to lead him to his death, she had only been curious. Hank spoke so fondly of this ‘Gavin’ that she had simply wanted to meet him. Nines had gotten to after all. So she had sang, Nines and Hank had both said he was easily pulled in by music. Looking back that might have been a warning not an invitation, because now the oceans spoke of revenge. She was being chased and she knew it. Hank had forgiven her, in time. Anyone would be angered at losing a friend, even one they had willing walked away from. So the revenge wasn’t his, which meant something else was after her. There was sometimes another human with Gavin. Could it have been them? Humans had short memories so she was inclined to doubt it. Even then, there were times the currents went from whispering of revenge to screaming it. So she would try and escape. Connor would always find her. She could never bring herself to stay far, the ocean was a dangerous place, even for creatures like them. So she would come back every time he asked her to, and with her came the danger of whatever she had angered when she took Gavin. Her luck would run out eventually. It always did. It was only a matter of when.

There came a point when Allen lost track of the years. Every time he would get close something would get in his way. If it wasn’t the ocean itself it was another one of those damned creatures. There were at least three others besides the one that drowned Gavin, sometimes he could almost convince himself he had seen a fourth. One that almost looked like Hank, but that one never got too close. He would take a shot at all of them if that was what it took. He never got the chance. He found her eventually. She was finally on her own. He rushed to line up his shot, he would finally be able to end this and rest. Gavin would get to be at peace, he would get to be at peace and this would finally be over. Until everything went wrong. Right as he fired something hit his boat and tipped it. He was thrown into the water and the harpoon was taken off course. One of them took her out of his line of fire and another pulled him under before he could get his breath. He watched what was left of his air escape he saw the most beautiful brown and black eyes staring back at him. Before the nothingness hit him could have sworn he saw the creature smile. When he opened his eyes again he was alone on a dock that lead up to a very familiar solitary beach house. The place that Hank had supposedly vanished from. His wild chase of sailor’s tales had brought him here several times, each bearing new evidence that the creatures had gotten to him too. Taken a form with legs and stayed with him until he was so alone he couldn’t refuse the song. Though the people of the town told tales of a mad who once injured and alone chose to sing back to the creatures, they believed he had gone to them willingly. He had no other place to go, so when he had strength enough to stand he made for the house. He would need time to prepare to try again. He was not going to fail, he was the only one left that could do this for Gavin.

It didn’t really sink in until they were deep enough to be safe that she was only alive because Connor and Hank’s quick thinking. Hank had recognized the human as the one that had been with Gavin and sent Nines, Connor, and Silas to observe him. Though Silas had also made the decision to try and drive him mad, though that hadn’t helped to postpone things much in the end. Hank had been the one to knock the shot of course and gave Connor enough time to grab her. Silas had disappeared in the fray, but he was back now. Tina had known lingering above the water was risky, but the warmth of the sun was a pleasant change from the constant cold of the deep water. It would have been fine if she had kept better track of time. Only a little while she had said, one tide and she would be back. She was thankful they hadn’t gone far, because in the end, one tide had been all it took. Connor had a scar to show for it. Nines quick healing made sure that was the only thing he came away with. When Silas got back he promised that they were safe, and despite the fact that he had never lied to her, or any of them before, Tina didn’t believe him fully. She was willing to agree that there were safe for now, but something told her he would be back. He had the eyes of someone who had something to prove. Who he was trying to prove it to she had no idea, and she really didn’t want to find out. If she had known this would be the price for simple curiosity, then she would have taken it all back. No flight of fancy was worth this much fear. Of not knowing when he would be back; and she was absolutely certain it was a when, not an if.

It took him a while to work and trade himself into another boat strong enough to handle the ocean. It was by no means sea worthy, he couldn’t afford that, but he could afford to fix this one, slowly. It would take a few years but he was confident that he knew enough about ship work to do it properly. If not, he was in a shipping town so there was other people here that could help him. Even if he did have to keep his reasons to himself. In the end though, it wasn’t his skill that was the issue, it was his luck. Every time he fixed on thing something else would break, or if he left anything out on the boat it would be missing come morning. He eventually got the mind to set up a camera, he was going to catch who was doing this and get it taken care of. It took weeks to get anything usable, and even at that, it wasn’t something he could take to the authorities. There, smiling in the camera like it knew exactly where it would be was the creature that saved his life. Down to the eyes that had been haunting his dreams. He was holding one of the steering components and grinning. He was being sabotaged by the very things that he was trying to hunt down. The irony didn’t escape him. and neither did the rage. What were they trying to get at? Didn’t they know he had someone he was doing this for? Were his reasons not enough? These creatures were known to sing of boundless love. Was it even something they could feel? Surely they would upturn the ocean to avenge someone they loved. They were certainly predatory enough to.

Every time he left Silas would come back with boat parts. They were little things at first and none of them really cared until he brought back a steering mechanism. That seemed to cross some unspoken line of Connor’s. The twin’s didn’t fight often, so when she could hear raised voices, she followed them. “Silas, I understand you are just as fascinated by this human as Nines was with Hank, but I sincerely doubt this one will promise you anything.” Connor said with anger at the edge of his words, “On top of that, he is trying to kill Tina. You could have chosen to court anyone else Six.” Silas groaned, this was a conversation they had clearly had before, “I know, but when I saw him the same thing that happened to you with Tina, and Nines with Hank happened to me. I can’t sing to him because look what Tina’s song did to him.” Connor’s expression softened, “Sing him a song of grief, tell him you understand, but for the love of all that his holy, stop stealing his stuff. He might kill all of us if you keep that up.” Silas frowned, “But boats have such interesting things on them.” Connor said or did something that Tina missed. “Fine, but I’m not giving back anything I took. Technically, I bought us time. So you’re welcome actually.” “No more trips to the surface unless one of us is with you.” He said. “Fine, whatever.” Came the reply before Silas swam back toward the den.  Tina took that as her cue to make herself scarce so she wouldn’t get caught.

One of them stole his fucking camera. The last bit of feed he got before the water killed it was a flash of dark eyes that winked at him. After that he was able to repair his boat without anything else being broken. Anything he left was still taken, so he stopped leaving out anything valuable, and definitely didn’t leave anything he thought his thief might be interested in. On the nights he didn’t leave anything behind he would hear a song that broke his heart, it reminded him of how much he missed Gavin. The anger that usually accompanied his grief never came with it those nights. Slowly, the anger that often chased his grief became an idle curiosity. Fixing that old boat became a project of adventure rather than revenge. His thief even came to leave things on the end of the rickety old dock. Never the things it had stolen, but other interesting human trinkets. Some had to have been museum worthy given their age, but since he couldn’t explain how he came into them Allen chose to keep them to himself. It was easy to believe he was getting better. That if he took to the water again he would be fine. Then he finally got to take to the water again, when silver was beginning to creep into the edges of his hair. Like an old waiting friend his rage returned as though it had never left. This time he wouldn’t fail, he couldn’t let Gavin down for a third time. Even if they had never been destined to last, he was a better lover than that, and could hold a grudge with the best of them. This was going to end one way or another. That Siren would die, or he would.

It came over her like the cold of the first winter tides before they migrated. A sense of dread that whatever precarious balance Silas had struck with her hunter was about to break. On some level she had known it would only be a matter of time, vengeance can only be put to rest for so long, but when it came down to it, she still thought she would have had more of it. There were still so many things she hadn’t seen, things she and Connor hadn’t gotten to do. Things they would never be able to, because if she stayed they would all die. She swam away to meet her fate once everyone else had gone to sleep. She was ready now. If he wanted her so badly he could have her. At full power. Just because she was going didn’t mean she was going without a fight. Sirens were the most feared creatures in the sea and this man was about to find out why. Humans never could resist the things in the sea that called to them, and she had heard Silas’s song enough times that she could sing it flawlessly. He wouldn’t know it was her until he was in the water. She didn’t get a chance to start. The moment she opened her mouth a webbed hand clamped over it before the first note could pass her lips. When she turned her head, it was Nines that was holding her in place. That realization came just as Silas began to sing the first notes of her song. The one she hadn’t sung since accidentally luring Gavin to his death. Had they known? There was no other reason to follow her. As she looked around her eyes fell on Hank who was just under the boat, ready to sink it again if it was needed; and Connor who was in a ready position between her and the stern. The worst case scenario come to life, they were all in one place.

He was just drifting, he wasn’t even looking for her when he heard the first notes of the song he hadn’t heard since the day he had lost Gavin. If it was honest, it stopped him in his tracks. Of all the things he thought he would have to face, fighting, drowning, and even dying; the song that had stolen Gavin from him didn’t number among them. With the way it caught him so far off guard, he realized it probably should have. It called to him, if he got just got a little closer to the water he would get to be with Gavin again. He would be able to apologize for not paying close enough attention, for failing him again. A sharp pain brought him back to himself and he realized he was leaning over the edge of his beat up boat with his hand outstretched to the water. What had broken the trance was the sharp bit of metal on the railing he never got around to smoothing away. With the way he was leaning it was digging into his side. With renewed anger he straightened up and moved his his harpoon gun. He was careful when loading it and thought to brace himself this time in case whatever had bumped and broke his last boat tried again. This one wouldn’t survive something like that either, but at least this time his shot wouldn’t miss. So long as he got it lined up. In the stillness before he took the shot he took a deep breath, this was it. Ten years of chasing and it was finally over. The click of the trigger was the loudest thing he had ever heard. At the same time two things happened. His boat felt like it was rocked with what felt like the weight of the ocean itself and words rang out in Gavin’s voice. “Do you promise?” He asked. “Yes.” He answered without hesitation, “Always.” Then he hit the water to see he had missed his target entirely. One of them was pulling her out of the way, and one was looking at him. Despite the sting of the salt looking at him felt like coming home. Like returning to that house on the beach. Blackness curled at the edge of his vision and soon enough all of it was gone.

It was over, it was finally over. She would have cried if it were something Sirens were able to do. Instead she pressed her forehead against Connor’s and smiled. It devolved into laughter, though she couldn’t tell if it was out of delight or madness, but she felt a little better when Connor joined in. There had been a moment when she had been certain all of them were going to die. The plan had so many moving parts and all of them had hinged on her song working on him when it hadn’t before. Of course Silas had been the one to sing it, but still. She hoped he got what he wanted out of the Sailor’s promise. How they had managed to get it off between the click of the trigger and Silas moving the harpoon away from them she would never know. She wouldn’t understand it anyway, she was horrid when it came to magic. “I’ve got you now.” Connor’s gentle rasp cut through the unpleasant mix of feelings and soothed away the worry, “And I’m not letting go, so take as long as you need to come back to me.” “I won’t be long.” She whispered, “Not with you here.” They separated some when she was back to herself fully. She looked Connor over for any new injuries as he did the same for her. When she established he wasn’t hurt she glared at him. “If you ever do something that stupid again, whatever you’re up against will be the least of your worries.” She hissed. “If you survive it enough to be angry with me then I don’t care.” He replied, and her anger melted away. She had come so close to losing everything, and while Silas was human, he wouldn’t be gone forever. They would be a family again someday, but for now she was going to relish the second chance Silas’s promise had given her. It was time do all the things she never thought she would be able to starting with showing Connor how much he meant to her.

The world came back to him slowly, and he felt an odd sensation, like someone carding their fingers through his hair. He had drowned, hadn’t he? He’d seen the same face from the camera, his Siren, and that meant he was dead. He had to be. “You aren’t dead.” An unfamiliar voice said, gentle but ringing with amusement, Allen could listen to them for hours, “If you were we would have some issues.” “If this is the treatment I get then I wouldn’t mind.” He half slurred. He still wasn’t ready to be consious, and his angel seemed content as they were. “Focus on getting your rest, I’ll be here when you wake up.” They replied, “I promise.” The next time consciousness came for him, he was ready. Well, as ready as the pounding in his head would let him be, but this time he had the strength to open his eyes so he wasn’t about to complain. Slowly, his angel came into focus and those deep beautiful brown eyes were looking down at him with a softness he  hadn’t known since Gavin. The thought didn’t hurt as much as he thought it would. “How are you feeling?” His angel asked, “Think you can sit up?” “Maybe.” He answered and slowly maneuvered himself into a sitting position.  The first thing he noticed once he was upright was that they were back in the beach house, not on the dock where he had first woken up. Somehow his companion had gotten him into the bed. Had it all been a dream then. He felt the bed move as his stranger got out of it. He moved like he was stiff. How long had they been here. “I was starting to think I lost you.” They said, “That I promised away my tail for nothing.” “Promised your...?” He shook his head which is something he immediately regretted, “I must have misheard you. Humans don’t have tails and Siren’s can’t live above water. This is just a fortunate coincidence.”

“You heard me correctly, but that is a story for when you’ve recovered a bit more.” His guest replied, “I’ll go make us some food and then you can get some more sleep.” Allen was too busy trying to figure out what that meant to say much as they ate dinner. Not to mention that getting out to the dining room had been a new level of exhausting. It was a few more days even then before Silas, as he had introduced himself over dinner, deemed him heeled enough to tell him what had happened. As unbelievable as the whole of it was, it lined up well enough with what he remembered that he was inclined to believe it. Silas had nothing to gain from lying to him. Everything he had was on that boat which had been sunk, again. “So, if I am understanding this correctly I promised you the same number of years I got to spend with Gavin in exchange for my humanity?” He asked once again for clarity. “Yes.” Silas confirmed, “I apologize again for using his voice, but you would have said no otherwise.” Allen shook his head, “No I wouldn’t have. I was curious about you since you winked at my camera.” Laughter bubbled out of Silas, “Well that’s good for my guilt. It’s a bad thing to say, but I was curious about you since the moment I saw you.”

There was an air of natural permanence that came with being in love with Silas. It was a love that took time to grow, but once it was there it became unshakeable. It felt right in the sense that loving Gavin hadn’t. It wasn’t that he hadn’t loved Gavin, but that it was something they both had to force. This wasn’t/ It was careless and free. There was no reason to leave for months just to feel something, and no worrying about Silas toppling over the side of a boat. It felt like loving Gavin had been the step he needed to get to this. That without having loved someone the wrong way, he wouldn’t know what it felt like when it came naturally.  The years passed them by with ease. Like water down a hill. When they walked into the sea like the lovers that had come before them, the small town never even paused. Another myth to warn young adventurers from taking to the sea, and Allen was fine with that. Because beneath the waves all that mattered was who you sang with.

@asset35-maya

@dbh-supernatural-challenge

[mambo-by-a-mile]

As he felt the foot trod on his tentacle, Hank was slammed with a sort of instinctive terror, crying out as he shuffled across the ground some distance away and tucking that particular tentacle closer to his body.

Not that there had been enough pressure applied to injure him, granted, but still plenty to trigger a fairly deep-seated trauma response. (And, put simply: The already-pretty-cranky septopus was very touchy about, well, being touched. And most especially so when done without warning.)

With the initial shock of it beginning to pass, and the realization, itself, that he hadn't actually really been hurt, Hank shot the unfamiliar animal with a glare.

“Watch where you're going, will you?! I’m already down one tentacle, here, as it is…”

Mambo dusted himself off as soon as he had steadied himself after nearly tripping over whatever it was he had accidentally stepped on. It was squishy, and semi-dry. He turned in the direction he heard the voice from to face the source of it.

'Sorry, man. Just a guy trying to get back to where I live and work. I'm also trying to avoid the water here so maybe-' he stopped mid sentence and took a jump back in alarm at the sight of who he had accidentally stumbled over.

'Yikes!' Mambo squealed out before scurrying backwards. He fell backwards onto his rear, squeamishly looking over the sea creature before him.

Mambo had already been walking along the sandy shore as far away from the large body of water as he could without straying off of it and getting lost again. His fear of deep water and inability to swim was only matched by his discomfort of the sea animals that inhabited the deep seas. Despite that, as luck would have it he had crossed paths with one.

'You're a- a squid? Octopus?'

[artmakerproductions]

The Crookits (#13) Tracy and Rogi in Weird Science Shenanigans 

1) Read (and drawn) in an upside down “U”. - Expositioning about some new creation/plan to Rogi.   - Tracy, ever so calmly as she can, asking if the brain he gave her was the one she asked for (an abnormal brain). He replies "Someone named Norman, I think? There was no last name." (Nod to the 'Young Frankenstein' joke, "Abby Normal"). Tracy wants to create a “Reverse-Frankenstein Monster”, by using imperfect body parts to create a grotesque monster... but the end result is something normal. Not the wanted outcome. - Late nighter for the two, Rogi puts a blanket on her sleeping friend before heading home. Why Rogi Fritz (Igor backwards; named and loosely modelled after the actor Dwight Frye's character, Fritz from "Frankenstein", 1931) allows himself to get roped up and go through w/ all the many morally questionable things Tracy asks of him is 1) keep true to their deals and honour his favours, 2) Out of his own curiosity as what the looney kid is up to that week. He does see him and her as friends though (as does Tracy, but she tries to keep the relationship mainly professional). Being the only person other than her own family members she almost regularly interacts w/ both in and outside the household. Tracy's doorway into her room leads right into a decontamination chamber that anyone who wants to enter has to mandatorily go through. Both she and him are about the same height, but Rogi just slouches a lot. A nod/reference to the hunchbacked assistant horror trope. Ps. That's a brain 🧠 on his shirt. A running joke w/ Tracy, along w/ her extreme germaphobic nature, is she’s always using frogs 🐸 in her mad science experiments. All of which usually taken from the nearby swamplands or Rogi’s school. --- 

2) Rogi: “Why you dressed like the stay puft marshmallow man? You goin' to space or deep sea dinin' or somethin'?" Tracy: "First off, stop with the poking. Second, no, this is merely my new sealed air tight and protective mobile sterile germ-free environment interaction garment attire to allow for easier and convenient mobility." R: "..." T: *sigh* "It's a new bubble suit I use to go outside with." R: "Oh!... you still look like a marshmallow." T: *annoyed, slightly muffled grumble* --- 

3 - 5) One of the MANY experimentations on frogs Tracy has done (that eventually went wrong) is combine the fragmented DNA of the T. Rex (that she got from an undisclosed source) and African Bullfrog. Done out of spite to see how the dinosaurs of Jurassic Park would actually look. Very much like Jurassic Park, the dinosaur escaped and fled to the nearby bayou where it currently resides. Eating gators, deer, and the occasional fisher or hunter. (Two different designs for the creature’s head, which is your preference?)

After several weeks go by, Tracy and Rogi head out out to eliminate the escaped frog-osaur. Unfortunately, the mutant dino frogs get the drop on the two. Revealing that there are three individuals. The young mad scientist lets it slip she actually made THREE specimens, but wasn’t aware the other two had lived into adulthood and simply discarded the (then small dog sized) bodies in Hank’s pond intending for it to be his afternoon snack before moving onto the third. Unaware they weren’t dead, and fled to the swamps. Later meeting up with the third specimen. Maybe if they stand still enough, they won’t be seen.

[hawksmagnolia]

The Depths (Pt. 1)

Drunk Drabble prompt submitted to @the-ss-horniest-book-club

Request by: @marvelgirl7

Summary: Because even a super soldier needs saving sometimes. 

Who: Bucky Barnes x mermaid reader

Word count: 2,341

Warnings: Swearing

Authors Note: So, this little drabble prompt has grown into a three part monster. Parts 2 & 3 will coming in the next week or so. I hope you like it Lacy- love your face! -xo- Allie Don’t forget to leave me feedback!

The Depths part 1: The Cold Brine

“Be a

mermaid

who doesn’t settle

for making a

small splash.”

   -Amanda Lovelace

I was born with fins.

No one was truly surprised. My mother liked to say I was half sea and half storm, created when the siren fell in love with a Russian fisherman she found in a hurricane. I didn’t even learn to walk on the land until I was three after which I spent half my life on land, the other in the depths.

After my father died, something in me shattered, that all too human heart that beat in my chest. Being a halfling child, I was something rare, belonging to neither world but after I lost my ties to land I refused to live only in the brine depths with my mother’s people. I made a promise to the ocean lords that I would save as many others as I could so that his spirit would find rest and not be trapped within the seas for eternity. I refused to drag men down, to sing them to eternal sleep in the dark cold silence.

I was not quite sea, not quite a storm. So I made my choice, I chose to save lives.

During the winter months, I would circle deep beneath the vessels, dodging their cages of rope and metal, the ones they used to catch the ocean’s harvest of crabs, gently urging the crustaceans into them. I did this to help the fishermen fill the steel bellies of their ships before the winter storms could grow into full strength behemoths capable of dragging men to their watery graves in the arms of the sirens.

Sirens are often called the monsters of the deep, but they are wrong. The storms are far more dangerous than I could ever be. The storms provide men like a buffet of lost souls to the creatures of the tides.

And then one day, the Americans came.

Their ships were smaller, faster than my country’s ships. Their crews laughed and sang as they worked, sounds unfamiliar on these waters.

They would work on the invisible lines that divided the ocean as if the currents obeyed any man. I was fascinated by them, I would watch them from beneath the surface, my enhanced hearing not hindered by the waves.

For six seasons I watched them. Every spring I would venture to their ports, where I would see them offload their bounty. The selkies, hostile at first until they realized I was not there to steal their lands, then welcomed me. They taught me the language of these men, how to blend into the locals. I would borrow their human guises, the sun touched skin, the onyx of their hair and eyes. How to blunt my teeth and nails. A siren among selkies, I found a new home. They knew what it was like to live in two worlds.

In the seventh season, the winds changed and the hurricane came.

The storm slammed into the fleet, leaving nothing behind, dragging men and ship to the dark before anyone could even get to their little orange life rafts. The water was simply too cold for them to survive longer than a few precious moments even if they escaped the sinking ships. Two ships in two days and no survivors.

On the third day of the storm’s fury, I pushed myself to go farther than I normally did, swimming deep to escape the riotous waves and howling wind.

I couldn’t hear anything but the pressure above me increased, actually forcing me down. Something very large had hit the water. I shot through the currents, pushing hard as the ship rolled over once, twice, and finally settled on its side. When I broke above the waves, the small lifeboat was already in the water and men were scrambling into it. I dove again, checking the water for anyone who had slipped but found no one but I saw the little blinking box fall from the rubber boat. I knew it would call for help, the selkies had taught me about it. I grabbed it and turned it on, watching as the little balloon inflated and rose where I tied it to one of the ropes dangling from their raft. As I returned to the surface I saw the last two escaping but before I could feel any sense of relief another wave hit hard and unexpected and the final man shoved his partner in before he fell and was swallowed by the sea. The men began to shout but their safe haven was pushed away from their friend.

So I dove for him.

Most men panic and thrash. He seemed almost peaceful as he descended. His hair was long for a man, some of it has escaped his holder and was drifting about his handsome face.

I wondered what color his eyes were.

I grabbed his jacket, my claws cut through the waterproof material, and the clothes underneath to flesh, drawing blood. It was enough for his eyes to fly open and his mouth opened in a scream only audible to me.

His eyes were blue, the same color as the skies in Russia when the spring finally arrives. I know what he sees but I don’t know if he believes.

A spectre of the sea, solid white from my hair to my tail. My eyes reflect any light in the murky water, giving me better vision but also giving me an unnerving glow to my eyes. My nails are sharp, my fingers webbed to the second knuckle. My tail alone is over six feet long, heavily muscled, and ends in delicate wisp fins that look like a human bride’s veil. He can’t see but each of my teeth ends in a point.

Sirens are carnivores after all.

His hand grabbed my wrist, fingers encircling it. Not made of flesh, but of metal. With my free hand, I point to him and then point up. He stares at me and I start to wonder if his heart has given out in the cold but then he nods slowly. Leaving my wrist in his hand but releasing his clothing I shot towards the surface, dragging him behind me.

We broke through at a point away from the sinking vessel, far enough away to see it but not close enough to be pulled under with it.

He gasped and his teeth immediately began chattering. I snaked the end of my tail around him and pulled him closer. He swears but released my wrist as I sat him just below my hips as a mother would her child.

“Hold on to my waist.” I felt him tentatively wrap his metal arm around me so I grabbed both and pulled him closer, locking his fingers together. My body runs hot, sometimes too much so, but at that moment I was grateful for it. My body heat should keep him alive long enough to get him to safety.

His eyes bored into me. “You’re Russian.”

“Once, yes. Hold tight. This will not be easy.” I cut through the waves, slicing through the middle of them where the water was easiest to penetrate. I held him against me with one arm while using the other to create a tunnel for us to pass through. When the little raft bobbed into sight I gave a small sigh of relief. I could hear the thumping drone of the rescue helicopters so I knew they were near.

With a final push, I grabbed the outer rope and hauled us closer.

“Call them. I won’t leave until you’re inside but they cannot see me.”

His arms still tight around my waist, he called out for them to help him inside. I gently pried his fingers apart and slid him down to the middle of my tail so he could sit on it as his companions cried out in surprised joy as they began to haul him in. I slid myself back into the water, preparing to sink out of sight when his face reappeared and he grabbed my hand.

“Thank you. How..can…I see you again?”

Baffled, I stared at him. No man who has faced a siren in her natural state would ever want to see her again. But this was no ordinary man, he had survived in some of the hardest conditions known. I don’t speak, instead, I pull my knife from around my neck and I sliced through my hair, right where a perfect silvery pearl was threaded. He watched me, not even shivering anymore. I pressed the knotted strand and the pearl into his hand before I vanished beneath the churning water.

Bucky sat in the Coast Guard helicopter, an emergency blanket wrapped around his shoulders. The other crew members were almost giddy with the relief that they had all been rescued. He ran his thumb over the hank of ivory hair and the perfect pearl braided into it as his thoughts swirled.

He’d come to Alaska after seeing a show about fishermen on tv once he’d broken free from Hydra and left Captain America…Steve…on the banks of the river. Alaska seemed like the perfect place to hide.

And it had been. No one here really asked about anyone’s past. He used an old forgotten Hydra identity and claimed to be a war vet. At least the second part of true. No one cared about what you did, only what you could do. And he was more than capable than holding his own.

Everything had been fine until that night. The captain and crew, while friendly, also gave him much needed privacy and respectful distance. But that storm, it had been raging for days but had made an abrupt turn almost as if it was hunting their boat. Two others had already sunk, so his captain had made changes to ensure their safety. When the boat had flipped, they’d all been in their bunks. By the time it had settled on its side, the crew was scrambling into the life raft. But one rogue wave had struck the raft so he’d chosen to shove the younger man, the one with a baby at home, inside and let himself fall.

He had already decided to accept his fate when the pain cut through the numbing cold. When his eyes had opened, he thought he was hallucinating. Or that he was back in cyro, dreaming as the cold took him away.

But he’d never dreamed of a mermaid before. His memory may be completely fucked but he would have remembered that. She was like someone had turned moonlight into a deadly sea maiden.

Her face was sharp angles and big eyes that gleamed like opals but it gave her an otherworldly beauty. There was a certain exotic appeal to her features. Her tail was gleaming white and nothing like any artwork had portrayed, it alone was longer than he was tall. Her body was powerful, muscles tensing as she kept herself upright.

When her hand had grabbed him, claws had sliced straight through to his chest. He grabbed her wrist, convinced she was going for his heart but instead she pointed up. Her hands were actually quite delicate with sheer webbing between her fingers but tipped with deadly looking claws. He couldn’t take his eyes off her face but he nodded. She released his clothing, choosing instead to use his grip on her wrist to drag him to the surface. She was built for speed, several powerful strokes of her tail and they were above.

When his face broke through he gasped and the frigid air rushing into his lungs was a shock to his system. He began shaking, his enhanced body trying to keep him alive. Her tail had wrapped around his core, pulled him to her side. Bucky swore at both the cold and the sensation of her settling him below her hips on that powerful tail. He couldn’t help but notice that the air around them seemed still, that no waves broke over their faces and that her tail didn’t feel like fish scales but like more like a snakeskin.

“Hold onto my waist.” Bucky stared at her. Perfect English but her accent was pure Russian. He didn’t want to hurt her with his weapon of an arm so he gingerly slid it around her. She took his arms and locked the fingers together firmly. The heat was pouring off her body, soaking into him despite his wet clothing.

“You’re Russian.” Bucky noticed the delicate slits on her neck below her pointed ear. Gills, he thought. They were flat, almost sealed against the air.

She glanced at him with her pale jewel-colored eyes, the sclera almost black. “Once, yes. Hold tight. This will not be easy.” She wrapped a muscular arm around him as if she was carrying a baby. With one push, they were off. Water should have been dragging him away but instead, it was as if she was created a tunnel through the waves. When the life raft came into his view she slowed until she was able to grab one of the outer ropes.

“Call them. I won’t leave until you’re inside but they cannot see me.”

Bucky hesitated but called out, yelling for help.

She gently pried his fingers apart and shifted until he was resting near the end of her tail. Enough that he would be able to be pulled inside but still not seen. After he’d been hauled inside he turned back around and shoved his head through the unzipped flap.

“Wait!”

She turned back to him, her eyes curious.

He grabbed her hand, this time with his flesh hand. “Thank you. How..can…I see you again?”

Confusion softened her features and she hesitated before taking a knife made of what looked like an oyster shell from her neck and slicing the pearl and the hair holding it. She’d pressed it into his hand and then vanished from sight.

Bucky sighed and shifted again, making sure his glove was concealing his prosthetic. He shoved the prize deep in a pocket and leaned his head against the vibrating wall of the helicopter.

He needed a new plan.

@nano--raptor @cchellacat @eurynome827 @jobean12-blog @book-dragon-13 @aesthetical-bucky @marvelgirl7 @sallycanwait68 @buckys-broody-muffin @softpeachbarnes @godofplumsandthunder @azurika-writes @ikaris-whore @this-kitten-is-smitten @randomfandompenguin @bucky-plums-barnes @bugsbucky @littleredstarfish @emilylyoness @hailmary-yramliah​ @daughterofsteven​ @jewels2876​

[seiya234]

the haunting of dipper pines

“At the end of the day, it was as easy as biting into an apple. 

The power lingered in him for only that day.

Henry lingered within him for far, far, far longer than that. 

(a land of deepest shade)

Willow told him once that the mind was like the ocean. 

There was the shore where people ran in and out of the water and onto land again. There were the waters where sunlight infiltrated, the waters where the more recognizable sea creatures lived. Even the twilight zone, where things began to get dark, still would occasionally burp up something recognizable.

Then there was the deep. The black. The vast expanse of the ocean floor where there was still so much unknown. And so much that would never be known. 

“Uh-”

Willow rolled her eyes at him. “So the shore is like, shallow currents. That’s where we dwell most of the time. And then the dark is where things you never think of, or don’t want to think of, or parts of you you don’t acknowledge- that’s where all that lives.”

“Sweetie,” Dipper began. “I... I don’t think that’s how minds work.”

“That’s how mine does.”

“Okay but your experience doesn’t-”

Dipper stopped. Willow’s eyes were cold, far too cold for a sixteen year old.

“Uncle Dipper, it’s a fucking metaphor.”

Willow never swore in front of him. He immediately dropped it. 

The worse of it was, he realized later that she was right. Because in his Shack, there were the places he spent the most time- the living room, the kitchen, the porch and front yard. There were the places he only occasionally went- his bedroom, stan’s office. 

And then there were the dark places. 

The basement. The apple tree.

Where there were gold bricks littered everywhere, lives once lived but forgotten with the weight of who he was now, and the motes of everyone he had ever eaten-

-“Boo,” said a far too familiar red headed face in front of him, before disappearing.-

-but he never had to pay attention to those.

----

(oh you’re going to lose control tonight) 

The first time was right after Ian’s surgery, when he was looking for some nightmares in the fridge, and out of the corner of his eye was a beautiful woman , antlers full of withered fruit and tiny white flowers. But for obvious reasons he had quite a lot on his mind, and it was easy to put down as a figment of his imagination-

-”Does your imagination come to life? Cause like, you live in imagination?” Mabel had asked. “Um. No...Yes... kind of?” Dipper responded. “But if something’s in there, it’s real now, one way or another-

-easily forgotten before going back out into the real world to deal with yet another disaster. 

But then the Flock began to complain about pulling up hanks of red hair amidst the grass. Cleanly cut severed hands and feet began appearing on the roof, out back, and on one memorable occasion in the dishwasher. Flannel shirts would appear on the back of the chairs in the kitchen and just as quickly disappear again. 

Thick rimmed glasses laying on the bathroom sink, that faded away just as Dipper would reach for them.

Late at night, aimlessly changing channels on the tv, watching the dreams of the multitude, and the smell of woodsmoke, slightly musty apples and mustier books, and an undercurrent of blood and sweat, the smell so strong that Dipper whipped around expecting to see Henry standing there right behind him, but he wasn’t he never was never would at least for another few centuries it was Dipper all alone...

Dipper settled back into the couch. He was alone, a part of him would always be alone, and while on any other night that would send him into an angst spiral but tonight it was kind of comforting.

Strong, care worn hands fell upon his shoulders, and Dipper knew without looking that one of the fingers would have a simple silver band with a little chunk of cubic zirconia, that the back of the right hand would have a scar from a cat scratch, that little red hairs poked up from the fingers...

the hands gave Dipper’s shoulders a squeeze and then they weren’t there.

They never were there. 

---

He began to see Henry.

Henry, opening the fridge, and vanishing.

Henry, chopping wood in the yard before vanishing.

Henry, digging under the couch for the remote before, wait for it, vanishing yet fucking again.

The first hundred times, Dipper thought he was imagining things.

The second hundred times, Dipper thought he was about to undergo yet another bad spell- perhaps all these apparitions were harbingers of what was to come? 

By the 347th apparition of Henry, Dipper finally was forced to accept that these... these motes. They were real.

They were Henry.

Or rather, they were parts of him. 

---

(for when you’re gone, i’m a severed soul)

Mabel and Henry’s room, oddly enough, didn’t carry quite the weight that one would imagine that it would. 

Because after that it had been Willow’s room, and then her great-granddaughter, and then Mike's and then...

Point being, so many people had lived in that room, made that the heart of their Shack, that the Mabel and Henry shine had worn off of it for the most part...

Except for the nights when he needed it to be their room. 

The nights when he needed to crawl under one of the many blankets Mabel had created over the years out of her old sweaters, sleep on top of the jersey sheets that Mabel loved but always pulled up and off the mattress, the pancake pillow that Henry slept on and the Pile of memory foam pillows and stuffed animals that Mabel used...

Nights where he would crawl into their bed and remember falling asleep between them, between them with the triplets mixed in there, between them and three to seven grandkids, and Henry’s weird cat that farted all the time, and then just the three of them again, at the end, grey hair and wrinkles and divots in the mattress. 

Nights where he wouldn’t sleep because he couldn’t sleep but he would just set his mind adrift, and do his best to Not Think for awhile. 

And now, nights where he would be in there, and feel the weight of an arm over his chest. Sometimes that arm was wearing an old Oregon State sweatshirt. Sometimes it was bare, showing freckled skin and red hair. And sometimes, some rare times, it was joined by the gentle sound of snoring in his ears, the tickle of hair against his forehead, a foot bumping into his. 

Dipper didn’t turn to see if he was there.

He never was.

-----

For awhile he didn’t acknowledge the motes; because surely they were only unknowing recordings of fleeting moments of time.

But time passed, on and on and on, and the fragments of Henry kept interrupting his solace, so finally Dipper began to talk to them.

They didn’t answer.

He told them about his day.

They didn’t answer.

He broke down in tears in front of them.

They didn’t answer. 

He screamed. 

They didn’t answer.

He raged.

They didn’t answer.

He gave up.

They didn’t answer.

Then one day when he was looking in the mirror, trying to lick some blood off his face, he saw Henry behind him once again.

“Why don’t I see Mabel like I see you?” Dipper asked him, not expecting an answer.

“Because you didn’t chew her soul into a thousand pieces,” Henry answered primly.

Dipper whirled around.

He was gone.

But now Dipper knew they could talk.

---

(from dust and ashes i have called you)

Footsteps upstairs again.

It wasn’t the Flock, Dipper knew that in his bones. He tried to not be a dick about it but... the Shack was his place, his sanctuary. The Flock were welcome to every other part of his mind but here.... here be dragons.

So it wasn’t the Flock. 

The footsteps paused, then turned around and began to walk again. From what it sounded like, they were headed towards the triplets’ old room.

Towards Dipper’s old room. 

He looked up and he could practically see each board of the ceiling ever so lightly wiggle as the steps walked across them. The steps got to the door of the triplets’ room, and then paused.

That pause was familiar; how many times did Henry go up to check on the kids when they were growing up? 

Pause. Then slowly walking back across the floor, headed towards the stairs down.

Dipper tensed on the couch. Would this-

The wood on the stairs began to creak.

Then it faded as it got to the stairs in Dipper’s eyeshot.

Then the footsteps were gone. 

----

After the first time, Dipper began to see Henry in various reflective surfaces. Never for very long, but it was enough to begin a conversation.

“Is it really you?” Dipper asked Henry in his coffee one morning.

“I mean, yes, but I could just as easily still be a figment of your imagination,” Henry replied a few weeks later from the window pane.

“I don’t remember you being this rude when you were alive,” Dipper said primly into his pot of soup. Said rudeness did also put a point into his theory that all of these Henry-visions were hallucinations on his part.

From the blackness of the switched off tv, Henry primly responded, “I apologize for my crankiness, but it’s been a rough century.” 

Dipper couldn’t argue with that.

Time passed.

“I’ve eaten untold numbers of souls,” Dipper said to the Henry who was lurking in the bathroom mirror. “What makes yours different?”

“Because I am special to you,” a Henry sitting on his porch reading a book replied a month later.

“Because you started to pay attention and now you’re looking for me,” another Henry cooking in the kitchen said a year later.

“Because,” and this was Henry’s breath hot in his ear, “Because you are so very lonely.”

----

(so pale so cold so fair)

There were the motes of Henry that were actually awake and aware, that spoke to him, even for the briefest moment. 

But more often, the fragments of Henry’s soul showed up as little repeating events, flashes of the life that Henry lived in the Shack.

So Dipper would go to get something from the vending machine basement door, and look and see Henry assisting an invisible patron, a book in his hand.

Henry, vacuuming a rug and talking in such a way that Dipper knew it was Stan on the other end. 

Henry, running through the living room, chasing three little stars that were long gone by now.

Henry, swinging on the porch swing, holding Mabel’s hand, but he wasn’t holding Mabel’s hand, he was holding fucking air, just like he was nothing but fucking air-

(he took the porch swing down for seventy two years after that, putting it back again when he had finally forgotten why he had taken it down in the first place.)

----

He was trying to figure out which ascot color was better when Henry appeared from behind in the bathroom mirror. 

Dipper didn’t bother to look back, knowing from bitter experience that like Eurydice Henry would only disappear.

“I.. I feel...you got two minutes Dip,” the Henry behind him said. 

Dipper froze. Two minutes. That was nothing. That was forever.

“Uh. How do you feel?”

“Hm. Kind of like the very essence of who I am was broken into literally millions of tiny shards of being, and that I only have the briefest flashes of consciousness before fading away again-”

“Uh.”

“It’s surprisingly hard work coalescing back into a regular soul, did you know that?”

“I mean yes? but-”

The Henry in the mirror was now right behind him, looming over him. His flannel was gone and now he was only wearing a worn black t-shirt, the kind that came in packs in Wal-mart. 

“I’m scattered. I’m missing. I’m missed. And then before that-”

Paloma glared at him in the mirror.

“I was tortured to death and then they took my soul, they broke and twisted me and grew a tree from me and they broke me so how the fuck do you think I’m doing?”

They stared at each other for a second. Then it was just Henry again, and he sighed.

“I’m sorry Dipper. That wasn’t fair. It’s been a long-”

He was gone.

Dipper didn’t see another Henry for five years.

---

(where did you sleep last night?)

He began to remember things that he had long forgotten.

Obviously, he prioritized henry and mabel and stan and kids memories above all else but well, he was old. He had countless friends and family now, lived untold numbers of lives, hadn’t had a second to rest, reset, renew-

So while he remembered quite a lot of that most precious time, he began to remember-

-watching the kids’ play at school and Henry having to sit in the last row because he was so tall....

-hiding behind the couch while some terrible movie Acacia picked was on and Henry, reading and smiling self indulgently...

-dinner at Greasy’s with Henry and that one documentarian, what was his name again? Oh yeah, James! 

-kneeling on the floor, praying loudly because apparently those were the only prayers that counted-

(wait)

-dad’s hand shoving the kitten into the sack, shouting incoherently at him while he cried, knowing what was going to happen next

(wait)

-his girlfriend’s brother, reaching into his chest and grabbing his soul, taking it to his mouth-

(w͓̜̙͈ a̬̯̘͙̯͎ ì̬̤ ṭ͟)

He began to remember things that he had long forgotten...and he began to see things that he had never knew in the first place.

-----

He had a million things he wanted to tell Henry when he finally appeared to Dipper again but the first thing he managed was “I think you’re bleeding into me.”

“Huh,” said the empty flannel shirt that was laid over the back of the porch swing. “I guess we should have expected that.”

Dipper tensed for the shirt to disappear, but no it was still there, so he went on. “I guess it’s kind of fitting. You know. Because of-” Dipper waved the head over his head, and was relieved that the empty shirt chuckled.

“Oh yeah, that. Remember when I wasn’t able to read what I wrote for a month?”

“Yup.” 

The silence stretched. Dipper realized he was waiting for an apology.

“I’m not going to apologize,” the shirt said. “I thought about it- and I could have said all that better. But I’m done apologizing.”

There was a pause. There was a roar in Alcor’s chest- Henry had been rude! Henry had hurt his feelings, his feelings!- but Dipper ignored it, because if he gave in to it.

Something precious would be irrevocably broken. Maybe future Henrys wouldn’t know it, but Dipper would, always and forever. 

So instead he smiled and only said, “Water under the bridge.”

“Good.” Then the shirt disappeared.

But Dipper felt like he would see it again sooner rather than later. 

----

(all the trees of the field will clap their hands)

The Shack began to come alive again...no. Wait.

Not quite. Not quite alive. More the pale imitation of the already pale imitation that was in Dipper’s mind. 

But

There were the sounds of a house lived in. A toilet flushing, the washing machine on a rough spin cycle, clatter of fork and knife on plate... 

The temperature would drop at night and the windows would rattle as if they were being opened- Henry always liked to keep it cold at night when he slept- and rise in the day- because Stan would go around closing all the windows and refusing to turn on the AC to save money... 

It began to feel like Dipper was constantly walking into rooms that people had just left. A turn into the kitchen, and there would be dirty plates and cups on the table, with scraps of unfinished food. The bathroom would be fogged up, with a wet towel hanging to dry and condensation on the mirror. Muddy shoes, the mud still wet on the soles, left on the porch in front of the door. 

The TV turned to the informercials you got after the cartoons died at three am when he walked in, a bowl of popcorn kernels next to the couch, and he had been so close, so close, so fucking close-

But at the end of the day it was just Dipper, out of sync with a reality that had long left him behind.

----

finally, finally they began to just talk. to be.

Conversations began and ended mid-sentence, and it didn’t matter if a year or five or fifty or a hundred had passed, but they began them effortlessly once more.

Here and now, Dipper had Henry all to himself, and they talked and talked, unraveling each memory they had made together, good and bad. Unraveling each one, savoring it, getting the other’s point of view.

Here and now, Dipper had Henry all to himself, unbothered by the passing of time outside of their minds. They talked about the kids. The kids and the grandkids and the great-grandkids, and all the great-great-grandkids that Henry never had a chance to know. 

Here and now, Dipper had Henry all to himself, in a way that he never could have any of his family, because Henry didn’t leave him to get reincarnated, couldn’t leave him for another life, and now all they had was time. Time for Henry to read all the books of the world through the resources of Dipper’s memory, time for infinite amounts of stuttering conversations and bread and apple pies that Dipper hadn’t tasted in eons left on the stove for him. 

But there was one subject that neither of them were ready to broach, and Dipper hoped they never did.

----

(maybe i will always haunt you)

“You know this isn’t going to last forever, right?”

Dipper turned around.

There was no one there.

----

“I think I’m almost done.”

Dipper didn’t say anything because he knew it was true. Henry was able to appear to him for longer and longer periods of time, looking more and more complete. 

“There’s... there’s something I feel a pull to, I think that’s my next life.” 

Dipper still didn’t say anything.

“Look, please tell me you aren’t going to spend whatever we time we have left together giving me the silent treatment.”

Finally, Dipper spoke. “I’m not giving you the silent treatment.” 

Henry peeped over the tops of his glasses and gave him The Look and oh yes, his soul really was close to being reunited. 

“You know... you know I have to go right?”

“Yeah.”

“And that it’s not good for me to stay like this indefinitely?”

“Yeah.”

“And that petulance is unbecoming in a man of your age? “Henry!” 

The redheaded man smirked. “There we go. Now are we actually going to talk about how you feel or what?”

Dipper grimaced. Ugh. Emotional honesty. 

But he did manage to say, “I’m not ready for you to go.” 

Henry sighed. “I know. I’ll admit, I’m not entirely ready to leave either.”

“Then stay.”

“I can’t. I miss them.” He didn’t have to say who it was he missed because Dipper missed the same people.

“I...I could m̫͓̝̳͓̘ḁ̞͍̘͇͓k͙͉̥e̮̰̗̦̺̫̞ you stay.”

Henry smiled. It wasn’t a nice smile, and his shadow began to stretch, the air around his head growing heavy, and the smell of blood filled Dipper’s nose. “You could try.”

The tension rose in Dipper, and then just as easily, faded away. “Yeah I could couldn’t I.”

Part of him still wanted to rage and scream, to get into a long, drawn out fight with Henry, to wail and gnash and exclaim how unfair it was to Henry, to the world.

But the world had changed, and Dipper, somehow, had changed along with it. He was older now. And he had had Henry all to himself for a millennium. 

He had had to eat Henry’s soul out of sheer desperation, to save his brother from further torture, a twisted gift to grant him the power to destroy a den of evil....

But this time, this span, had been a gift in its own right as well.

“Are you mad at me?”

“About what?”

“About... about what I did?”

Henry thought about it for a minute, giving the question the weight it deserved.

“I was a little upset, yes, for about fifty years. Because it did... hurt. Losing myself. Trying to piece myself back together. But deep down, I was never mad at you Dipper. I understood, understand.”

Henry grabbed Dipper’s hand. “And if you remember, I told you to do it as well.”

Another time, there may have been some sobbing, some crying about absolution and lack of deserving, and gnashing of teeth and rending of metaphorical hair.

But Dipper was older. And things changed.

And this time had been a gift, so instead he contented himself to let the conversation slip to lighter topics, to relish the little time he had left with Henry.

---

(and see the flaming skies!)

one day he came home and he was alone.

[awintersrose]

Kinktober Day 6 - Edging

Pairing: JiraDan

(From this list of prompts - requests are still open!)

A reminder that all Kinktober fills should be considered explicit unless I say otherwise.

*

*

*

His lover is an evil angel, if such a thing is possible - and some of the outlandish tales from other lands insist that it is. Jiraiya has certainly read enough of them to declare it probable, and the more he considers it, the more he takes to this particular flight of fancy. With his icy hair and viridian eyes, Dan looks like an innocent creature hewn from all that is pure and bright, but if tonight’s surprises are any indication, what lies underneath is pure devilry, and no one would ever know it from his appearance, or from his stellar reputation. 

It’s not that Jiraiya is complaining, not at all; the predicament just calls for creativity… or another answering predicament that cuts in the opposite direction.

Which is why they now find themselves alone in his flat, with one fallen angel bound in tasteful blue jute rope, knee to ankle, each wrist to the opposite elbow, secure on his bed. By his own choice, he remains completely at Jiraiya’s mercy as the sage drowns Dan in sensation that cannot be controlled nor returned.

“You know what you did, don’t you, sweet bird?”

“Well… I think maybe I do…” Dan shudders against Jiraiya as the toad sage’s hands drift across the changing textures of his abdomen.

Pure amusement twists his mouth. “Tsk tsk… teasing me all throughout that dinner. Did you really think there would be no consequences?”

Dan’s silvery lashes fall slowly as he wets his lips. “You enjoyed it though, didn’t you?”

A large hand spreads leisurely around the base of Dan’s cock, rubbing maddening patterns up the hollows of each hip, and across the curve of his pelvis. Another hand teases the belled clamps adorning his nipples. 

“I’m not so sure that’s the point right now, sweetie.”

Sea green eyes plead almost piteously as skilled fingers take the chance to run the full length of him, taking the momentary distraction as an opportunity to pick up a smaller hank of thin rope. Jiraiya’s touch remains persistent, running along that silken skin as he closes in behind Dan, enveloping him in warmth. His motions never go still, stroking slow and full, his thumb circling the head of his lover’s cock, now rosy red and flushing deeper, almost the same shade as the crimson staining Dan’s cheeks. His hand comes away sticky; wetter still as he strokes again.

“Already, sweetheart? Don’t worry, I’m going to help, promise.” Jiraiya nibbles the nape of his neck, its graceful curve already bared by a hasty knot.

He releases the straining erection in his hand entirely, bringing the rope into Dan’s sight.

“S-so cruel, Rai…” Dan’s breath hisses through his teeth.

“Oh come on now, how many times have you three gotten your jollies in exactly. The same. Way?” Jiraiya punctuates each pause with a kiss across tense shoulders, brushing crystalline wisps of hair out of the way. 

“Like I said, this is revenge. You did turn yourself over to me this weekend, didn’t you, bird? And how better to make you sing?”

The answering moan is delectable, something he wants echoing against the walls and ceiling again and again. He’ll have it too.

A few moments of deft concentration have Dan’s arousal tied in cunning bonds, the silk rope laced around his cock and his testes in such a way as to keep him from coming; long enough for Jiraiya to make the most of their time together.

“Can’t you feel what you’ve done to me?” The sage presses his own aching arousal against the curve of Dan’s ass, sighing. “I think there’s something to be given in recompense, my lovely.”

“What would that be… Master?” Dan asks in the most satisfying tone, giving himself over entirely with his change of address. His voice trembles as Jiraiya throbs against him, exhaling against his ear.

“Well, everything. Eventually. And you’ll be begging me, I think.” Jiraiya taps the base of the toy inside his cheeky lover - one of the very catalysts that lead to such teasing tonight.

He draws the little jeweled plug out partway, toying with Dan even more at the moment it flares the widest, then he slips it back home again. With each repetition that follows, the visible tension in Dan’s body notches higher and higher. Sweat beads at his temples and gathers along his spine. 

A deep whine finds its way out from between Dan’s otherwise well-disciplined lips, and Jiraiya takes advantage of that desperation, plying at his rising need, then backing off each time it surges too high. After several fruitful rounds of chipping away at his lover’s will, Jiraiya draws the toy away instead of reinserting it. He can feel the slow panic begin to rise within his lover, and without pause, he slicks himself with lubricant using a free hand, and drives inside Dan with a slow, firm rock of his hips.

The echoing cries he wanted at the outset are gifted to him, and multiplied with a second shift of his thighs.

Gods, this could backfire at any moment.

Dan is so hot, and tight, and writhing against him despite the bonds - maybe because of them - Jiraiya has no idea. The sage is too wrapped up in making sure that he can control himself long enough to make good on his promises because Dan, his wicked, wicked-yet-heavenly creature feels too much like paradise.

“Please…” Dan begs beautifully, and Jiraiya’s stomach clenches hard with heat.

Dammit.

This was supposed to be a predicament for Dan - but it seems supernatural desirability must be holding Jiraiya captive yet again. Who is he to argue?

[fuzziemutt]

Headcanon Background

These are my headcanons following the world of “Do You Understand?”

This is just extra world building and character stuff that I didn’t want bogging down the main story or have established in there for future reference. Some of these headcanons are inspired by fics I’ve read btw. I might add onto this in the future.

WARNING: Minor Spoilers ahead - I do suggest reading this after the story is complete.

-this mostly covers Connor, Nines and Hank because they’re the ones I most often deal with. If anyone asks for the others or I think of some for them I might add em.

MasterList

World:

This is Post Pacifist route and everyone lives (best ending)

The actual events of the game take much longer, the revolution doesn’t end until towards the end of December to January.

Some events of the game went a bit differently since the time is stretched and because mister Cage is dumb. Like Markus can’t do the weird look deviation thing for funsies. And Alice is human (even if not shown). And there were more revolutionary events that aren’t discussed but happened.

Androids are also much more open about their inhumaness, they often act more human like around humans. However, while alone, androids tend to talk via their internal networks most often (some choose to outwardly speak only too, it’s just preference) and refer to themselves in less human manners.

Okay ngl I’m not gonna get into how to fix this mess of a world Cage made, I’m going to idealize some things in this fic (like I made a landlord nice and not much ACAB- or really any cop stuff), this is merely for fic purposes. I ain’t gonna play moral battlefield with Cage’s dumbass for what started as a vent fic. Just know I don’t agree with a lot of the decisions Cage made for this game’s plot.

Connor RK800:

The RK800 model was made with less articulations in his face so as to cut corners given he was meant to just be a trial. -He needs to consciously run facial expression programs and they can be quite awkward.

Same vein, Connor’s constant calibration, while also a stim, lack of tear ducts, and blinking glitch are also due to Cyberlife cutting corners

Connor Has ADHD because I do so he does too

He also stims by pacing or running, but he tends to do this in absolute private.

He likes to change his hair color quite often to differentiate himself from Nines (He would change his eye color if he could), he does have Bryan’s curly hair but he still consistently styles it to the game style.

His wardrobe style consists of button ups (black, white and floral), turtlenecks, a dark grey blazer, knee length black coat, black jeans, and dress shoes (often Cyberlife ones since they’re just slip ons essentially)

He has killed/hunted way more deviants (and humans) than in game Connor. When he isn’t with Hank, Cyberlife ordered him to simply hunt down and dispose of any deviants he could find. (they wanted results they just played nice with the law for show)

While he wasn't cruel and let all deviants he met with Hank go (except Rupert), any deviants he found while "off duty" did not receive the same mercies (some would even be found mangled beyond recognition). Hank really amplified the humanity in him but only when present. It was also easier to ignore orders when he had a scapegoat.

He also remembers all prior iterations of himself; while the corruption in memory is still there, it was used to condition him in “right” from “wrong”.

He spent a lot more time with Amanda especially during early trials as well so his loyalty to her is very deep and she is like a mother figure to him.

This is Connor model -54. Past 3 models deactivation: Fell with Daniel while protecting Emma (Successful mission); Success w/ Carlos’ android, but he still self destructed and got shot in the interrogation room when trying to stop them; Stratford tower kitchen but the deviant crushes his thirium pump before running leaving him unable to be saved.

He did go up to the roof and saw how Simon was left behind, but he thought about how Hank would be displeased if he killed this android in front of him, given prior results, so he left back to the kitchen last second. Simon knows he left him alone but he doesn't know why.

*pats his head* this boy can hold so much unprocessed trauma

Also this Connor is not an “uwu soft boy”, he is a bastard man. A nice bastard man, but a bastard man none the less. He will sell you to Satan for a single corn chip (/j). He is severely touch-starved though.

He is very bad at expressing and showing his true emotions in a way that makes sense since he’s spent the last, however many, iterations putting himself in a tomb of denial, fear and anger in order to survive. He often expresses nothing or in a manner that he feels will benefit him (arguably manipulative but he is in constant survival mode still). (unless he gets too overwhelmed by his own emotions like hella overwhelmed)

He wasn’t necessarily “deviant” when a machine, his social relations and general programming just saw the act of being more emotionally expressive as giving him a higher chance of not being killed by his handlers. Basically “if they think I’m like a cute roomba, they won’t kill me as easily”. He still experienced frustration, fear and other emotions he ignored, but he was under command (with code and external pressures), his own AI just got fucky and advanced without anyone realizing it (from trauma).

The books in his apartment are random books hes bought from a thrift store, but there are some mystery books and a sea creature encyclopedia in the mix. - The manta ray plush is a gift from Hank, the Whale is a gift from Nines.

Connor (Nines) RK900:

He looks and sounds exactly like Connor. Height, build, face, voice and everything is the exact same except he has blue eyes.

Arguably Nines’ system name is still registered as “Connor” but he just never felt the need to change it since he just goes by Nines anyways.

He has more articulations in his face, even more than the average android, and he tends to take advantage of this. He does feel bad sometimes after being a walking reminder that Connor meant nothing to Cyberlife, but they both tend to not want to talk about that and just ignore it. He doesn’t know how deep Connor’s jealousy goes though.

Given he activated deviant, he really isn’t sure what being a machine is like or having to follow orders. This sometimes is a disadvantage as he doesn’t get sometimes why androids, like Connor, would lean so heavily onto their old programming.

This also means, he’s very expressive and open about his emotions. They were free so why would he try hiding what he felt ? (This can sometimes get him in trouble)

Where Connor changes his hair, Nines wears very loud and vibrant clothing, if he finds a shirt that screams ugly he will wear it. His usual get up is asymmetrical colored button ups, whatever pants he grabs that morning, dress shoes (don’t worry they’re ugly too) and his favorite highlighter neon yellow and orange hooded jacket. He also tends to change into more comfy wear when at his room in New Jericho.

He is partnered with Gavin Reed, but those two really aren’t friends and never will be. Nines can handle him just fine at work but he would never invite that man anywhere near him after it. He is friends with most of the DPD. People find him really friendly and enjoy talking to him.

He also owns a cat named Clem, not much is known about her because she’s really shy.

While he still has access to the base zen garden program, the program is not connected to anything and never had the Amanda AI implemented yet. Since he was never rolled off the press properly and Amanda was set to change connections to the new model set when Connor was done, it never happened.

He was released from Cyberlife storage due to an agreement between them and Markus that all remaining prototypes would be released and androids would have access to the tower in order to produce biocomponents and parts (Cyberlife still owns the building arguably and has access to any info/security there though). He’s honestly not that close to the Jericho leadership despite everything. He talks to them every once in a while but he doesn’t actively talk to them.

Arguably yes he is one of many RK900s, but for sake of story, he is the -84 model of the series and the only one we will see.

Hank Anderson:

After the revolution, he offers Connor a place to stay out of worry. He won’t admit it, but he had a gut feeling con man wasn’t doing well (he was right)

He does work on his drinking problem, but he still has a lot of issues and sometimes relapses. He’s slowly getting better.

He’s like a dad figure to Connor but he isn’t his dad. He gives guidance, but he also gets that Connor is arguably a full grown adult even if he is emotionally like 1 years old. He kinda is a dad to Nines too, but this isn’t as focused on in the story. While he is a bit less grumpy (aggressive) enter Connor, he still a bit of a sour boot most of the time. He just is sober while doing it now. He started wearing a ponytail after the revolution to keep his hair out of his face. He lets Connor trim it every once in a while, but he can’t bring himself to go back to the short style. This Hank adopted Cole as a baby after finding him at a crime scene. He never got married. (He jokes about having an ex-wife out of a sense of compulsory heteronormativity and because it’s funny to him) He used to treat Gavin like a son of sorts before Cole’s death, but practically dropped him afterwards which is why Gavin is doubly hostile towards him. The house he lives in now is not the same house he lived in when Cole was alive. He also got rid of a lot of Cole’s stuff when moving (The toys and clothes he kept are in a box in the garage).

[yeet-me-dad-dy]

Control

Summary: Connor has to stop your dark alter ego.

Characters: Connor x Reader

Warnings: Gore, blood, swearing, death, murder

Words: 2,710

The house was awake with shadows and monsters, the hallways echoed and groaned. Connor and Hank were bombarded by whispers the moment they stepped over the threshold into the large, dilapidated house. It was as if they were inside of Connor’s head, swirling around. Mocking him. Taunting him.

They don’t love you. How could they? You’re nothing.

You’re just a machine.

You’re not human.

Hank hadn’t even made it five feet into the house before he dropped his gun and clutched at his head, trying to block out the whispers, muttering, “no, no, no” over and over again. Connor quickly ushered him outside through the pouring rain, back to his car, before returning to the house. The thick, ornate door slammed behind him and he rushed over to pull at the handle. It wouldn’t budge.

He couldn’t leave.

You can’t really feel.

You’re just their toy.

The house was drowned in blackness. The storm clouds outside obscured the moon from view, its silver rays unable to penetrate the thick blanket. Doubtless, it wouldn’t have helped illuminate this rundown house; all of the windows were boarded up and covered with thick, moth-eaten drapes. It was times like these that Connor was both glad and hated that he was an android.

The RK800 model was equipped with enhanced night vision; he could see in this blackness as easily as if all the house’s lights were on. By RA9, though, he wished he couldn’t. The walls were slick and dripping with fresh blood, the wallpaper drinking it up. Two bodies lay on the floor in the entryway where the android stood - one on the stairs before Connor, the other between the stairs and the door, directly at his feet. A scan showed that the nearest corpse’s spinal cord was severed. It seems he’d almost escaped from whatever was - is - in this house, but was eliminated just before he reached freedom.

They’re playing you.

You’re so gullible.

So naive.

A chill went up Connor’s spine. His sensors detected movement upstairs and he knew he should go investigate, but he couldn’t move. He was scared.

Hank and Connor were sitting at their desks in the DPD when the android’s LED flashed, indicating he was getting a call. He answered happily, but his mood quickly fell when he heard what was on the other end of the line.

“Connor?” the voice was male, strained and wavering with fear. “You have to get here. I called for backup, but they’re all dead. It’s (Y/N). They killed them all. I’m the only one left and I can’t get out of here. You have to stop them. You have to-”

Static filled the line for a moment and Connor called into the receiver, asking if the man was still there, if he was okay. He was greeted with your voice… almost your voice. It was you, unmistakably, but something was… off.

“Hello, love,” you purred. Connor could hear a gurgling sound in the background, like someone trying to breathe with water-filled lungs. “I was wondering how long it would take for them to get a hold of you. Are you going to come and play?”

Connor took a tentative step around the body and toward the stairs, gun raised. To his right was an archway leading into the living room, and the kitchen was to his left. There were more bodies in each, the hardwood floors drinking up both blue and red blood seeping from severed arteries as they mixed together to create a sickening shade of purple.

“Connor!” he heard a cry from above him, a female’s voice this time that was quickly cut off. It wasn’t yours, but it was calling for his help. He raised his gun and started up the stairs, cringing at every creak and groan the staircase offered.

He stepped off of the stairs and around the banister. More bodies. So many bodies. This hallway was as wide as the entryway, with two doors to the right and one to the left.

“Once more…” he heard a whisper, so faint that even his enhanced hearing almost missed it.

“Help me! Plea-” The voice was cut off again, but Connor was able to pinpoint that it originated from the left door.

He made his way cautiously over, stepping over bodies, his footsteps splashing in the deep pools of blood. At the end of the hall was a set of glass doors leading to a balcony. The doors were shattered and a body was slumped over the balcony railing, dangerously close to slipping and falling to the ground below. Its bulletproof vest was eviscerated; deep gashes went right through the material and into the officer’s back. The RK800 cross-referenced these claw marks with all known creatures, but his test came back negative.

Whimpering reached his ears and he pried his gaze from the body on the balcony and turned it swiftly to the door now ahead of him. It was ever so slightly ajar, dripping with blood, and he could see bullet holes littering the thick wood. These weren’t the only bullet holes, however. They were everywhere - all over the house. Most belonged to handguns, but some he identified as belonging to automatic weapons. It was then that he noticed a few of the corpses were clutching bigger guns. The faces that he could see were all frozen in various states of terror.

He heard another muffled sob. He should have been in the room already - rushed in to help whoever was in distress… but he was stalling… hesitating. He didn’t want to know what was on the other side of that door, though he had an idea... one that made his blood run cold.

He swallowed hard and used the toe of his boot to push open the door, gun readied. He stepped over the threshold into a large bedroom. There was a body on the bed before him, some bookshelves and another door to the balcony to his right… and someone crouched down in the corner to his left.

His heart stopped.

The figure turned to regard the newest arrival, shifting so that Connor could see the android they had cornered. Its legs were missing, sparking wires and crumpled metal indicating that they had been torn off by some great force. He kept his gun trained on the crouching figure as he slipped his flashlight from his pocket. He didn’t need it; he knew who the figure was. But… he had to be sure. He positioned it under his gun and switched it on with a click.

The glint of sharp steel at the android’s throat was the first thing he noticed. Your eyes were second - black like the void - and the sharp claws on the ends of your fingers were third.

“There… I- I did as you said. I called him up here. Please… please let me g-” The android stopped as you slid your knife across her throat, cutting through her like butter. Thirum spurted out, adding a swirling blue to the sea of red and purple already on the floor.

You were soaked in it. You rose suddenly, slowly, black eyes never leaving him. What was this? What were you?

“Hello, Connor.” Your voice was like silk and velvet and caramel - smooth, soft, and sweet. Intoxicating. “I was starting to think you weren’t going to show.”

The android took a tentative step forward.

“(Y/N)?” he asked quietly.

You laughed lowly, a wicked grin overtaking your features. “Oh, no darling. Your lovely (Y/N) isn’t here right now.”

“What is this?” he asked. “Why are you doing this?” His heart was beating faster than it ever had before.

“Why?” you asked innocently. No... not you. It. It took a step forward and the darkness seemed to swirl around it like ink. “Because this is the only way I was ever going to get to meet you-” In an instant, it was standing before him. Its body had turned into a cloud of darkness, darted forward, and then regained its physical form. “-face to face,” it whispered. “They sure as hell weren’t going to introduce me.”

It’s face was only centimeters from his, breath reeking of blood. “(Y/N)… Please, you’re scaring me,” he tried, gazing into those shining black eyes, desperate to find any sign of you behind them.

It sneered and took half a step back. “I’m not (Y/N). And goddamn right you should be scared of me.” Its arms went out to its sides, right hand still clutching a dripping knife, as a blast of darkness erupted from you, shaking the house and sending Connor flying back into the bookshelves.

“ Ḯ͉̭̐͆ͪ͐͒ ̧̼̊Ä̠̲̞̠̠́̀̂ͭ̊͞M̙ ̗̻͓̼̮ͯ͑ͦͧI̋ͬͩ̑̈́͑̀N͔̬ ̆̎̒C̲̽ͤ̐͂̕O͎͙̮͕̠̕N̠͛̂ͤͨT̞̹ͦͪ̌R̜͙ͭ̐̓Ō̰͓̲̝̯̐̔ͫ͞L̲̯̞̙̠ͫ̌ͫͪ̃̊͞!̦̜̣̮̱̽ ” it shrieked.

Connor found his feet quickly, raising his gun to point once more at whatever dark creature had taken hold of the love of his life. Its left arm dropped to its side. It pointed the knife at Connor and lowered its head, gazing through its lashes at the android.

“Are you going to shoot me?” it asked sweetly, voice echoing around Connor in hushed whispers.

“If you give me no choice,” he warned.

It smirked and shifted the knife so that the tip was now pressed up against its chest, just above your heart. “You kill me and your love dies too,” it said flatly.

“Why are you doing this?” Connor asked once more.

“I already told you.” It took a step toward him, knife dropping back into a neutral position, glinting in the beam of his flashlight. “I wanted to meet you.”

“Why?”

It scoffed. “To kill you, of course. I want them to get a taste of what it’s like to be locked in that cage, helpless. I want them to watch as I kill you - slowly, intimately… in all the ways I know you fear… And their screams of grief will sing like music in my head.”

He hesitated. “Who are you?”

It shrugged, taking another step forward. “I’m them, but I’m not. I’m them, but better. Stronger, faster, smarter.” Its smirk widened into a grin. “More dangerous. You’ve known about me. You saw the signs. ‘Anger issues’ they said. You knew that wasn’t it, but you chose not to see. You chose to ignore it - to pretend everything was fine. You could have stopped me, but you just watched-” It raised its arms again with a smirk. “-as this happened,” it hissed, referring to the massacre.

“Where’s (Y/N)?” he asked.

The other you clicked its teeth. “They’re in here,” it said, raising the knife’s tip to your temple. “It’s rather annoying, really. They’re screaming. Crying. Struggling to take back the reins, begging me not to hurt you. It’s rather inconsiderate. I never made nearly as much noise when I was the one locked in the cage.”

Connor was backed against the bookshelves with it between him and the door. He could try for the balcony, but it’d catch him. He shouldn’t run anyway. You needed him, and he couldn’t allow this… thing to remain in control of you. If he could just get through to you…

“(Y/N),” he tried again, his voice quiet as he gazed into the black abyss of the demon’s eyes. “I know you’re still in there. I know you can fight it. You can regain control.”

The demon laughed, throwing its head back. “Oh, that’s cute. I’ve got them locked away, deep within their subconscious. They can hear you, but they can’t fight me. Not from where they’re at.”

He’d have to try a different approach. “You said you wanted to meet me so you could kill me. Why?” he asked.

It chuckled. “Because I know you. I’ve seen every loving gaze, been on every insufferable date, had to experience every disgusting love-making session. I’ve been here the whole time.” Its voice wavered and its head twitched. It were radiating darkness; it was seeping from its skin, rising to swirl around it like smoke from a campfire. “I’ve had to sit by and watch while my arrogant other half got to be happy. Why do they get to be the one in control?” Its voice was rising now, the darkness growing thicker, heavier. Connor’s ears were ringing. The blackness was swirling around him like a hurricane.

“T̴́H̢̛͞E̴Y̛͢͞ ̢P҉R̢͜OM̛͜͢I͡҉͢S͠ED͜ ̸͢TH̛E͞͏Y ́W͟͡Ơ͟UL̸҉D͜ ̶͘L̴̸Ę̡T̡͘͝ ͝҉̀M̀E͠͞ O͜U̸T̷.͝ T͝H̢̡E̢Y ̧͏Ṕ̸R̷Ơ͢M̀I͘S҉È̡͜D ̛͘͜T̢HE̡Y̵͡ W̢͜͝OU̷̢L҉҉D̸͘ ҉̡G̷̸̕I͟͠V̛É̴ ͘ME ҉C͏O̢͜N͢͞Ţ̵̶R̸̀O̕͢L͜͝.͟”

And suddenly the world went still. The ringing stopped. The only sound to be heard was the blood dripping from its knife to splash in the pools at its feet.

“It’̷s͠ my̷ tu̷r͞n̡ n̷ow͡,” it whispered.

It lunged toward Connor in a cloud of smoke, pinning him to the bookshelves, its knife at his neck, claws trailing lightly down his face, caressing him as it smirked.

“And I’m going to start by destroying the one thing they love most.”

It pressed the knife into his neck and he could feel the blade break the skin, the tickle of thirium as it trickled down his neck, leaving a trail of blue in its wake. Its hand was shaking, knuckles white as they gripped the knife. It’d broken only the top layer of skin and plastic. Why wasn’t it killing him?

“No…” it muttered. “No… you fucking… don’t…” Its head twitched again and it lurched backward, away from Connor, landing hard on its back on the floor. “I won’t let you hurt him,” it hissed, only this time… it wasn’t sickly sweet. This time… it was you.

“ŅƠ͜!” the other one shrieked as your body turned, propping itself up on its elbows. It dropped the knife and brought its bloody hands up to its head, twisting its fingers in its hair, claws digging into its scalp.

“I̝ͧ͑̒̔̾̅͊’̞͙̪͚̞̽M͍͐ ̾ͥ͛I̬͎̲̙̼͗͊͑ͧͪ̈́̚̕ͅN͚͇̟͜ ̀C͈̲͓̯̬̓̃͐ͅO͈͐Ṇ͚̘̬͚̀ͦͤT̔̑̈́ͦͧͦͧ͏͓̦R̍̓ͤ̄͡Ọ̥̣́̐̍͗̇L̼̟̻̥̣̰̈́ͬͥͯ̍ͬ͗ͅ ̫̲̽̒ͫṈ̬͕̘̠͂̔ͅO͙ͯ͛ͩ͘W͓͍̞̼̊.̙̪͖̤̺̟”

“Connor!” you cried and the android was ripped from his state of shock. He rushed forward, gripping you by the shoulders and pulling you into his lap. He wrapped his arms around you as you clawed at your head. “It’s in my head… Its voice. I can’t stop it, Connor! It’s too strong, I can’t stop it!” You were sobbing, hot tears leaving deep trenches in the blood coating your face. You took in a shuddering breath. “You have to. You have to stop it. Please. Please, Connor, I can’t. I’m not strong enough. I’m not-

“E͙̠̩ͭ̐͐͝N̯̣͎̲̝̱̿̆̾͌ͯ͘O̭̬̠͕͈̮ͫ͐͒ͯỤ̡̙̱͓̅̇G̠̘͓͇͋͆H͈̰̠̱̀!̦̦̱͕̝̥̝̆ͮ̓ͩ”

It wrenched itself out of Connor’s grasp, grabbing the knife as it crawled across the floor to slump against the wall. The android raised his gun again. He could feel tears prickling behind his eyes, threatening to well up and spill over.

“Į̡͌T͌ͮ̄͆ͥ̽͒͝͝’̛̅̊͆͋̕Sͤ͛ͫ ̡̓͒ͪͮ́̚̕M̶ͪ́͊̀Y̏ͮ̅̄ͣ͑͢͟ ̈̅̀͌̾̽̚͏T̈̔̓ͩ̎͛̚̚҉Uͬ͐ͥR̛̒ͣ̄̂͠N͌̓ͤ̐̔̓̈́ ̴̛̆̌ͪ͆̑̂͂ͧ͘N̛ͩ́̏͛̈́Ỏ̋ͩ͂̌͘Wͬ͛̽͆̃ͤ̅͏͜,́̈́͗ͣ̇̽͋͏” it insisted, gripping the knife tightly once more as it adjusted into a crouching position. He knew it was going to lunge for him again, black eyes boring into his. This time, he knew you wouldn’t be able to stop it. This time, it would kill him.

“Please, Connor.” And suddenly your eyes were yours again, begging him to help you. “Please.”

Their color faded back into black as it rushed forward. Connor barely had time to react.

BANG.

It fell just short of where he knelt and the knife slipped from its hand, skittering across the floor. The android’s heart stopped as his brain tried to process what had just happened, what he’d just done. He dropped his gun.

Oh god… what had he just done?

“No… No, no, no, no, no,” he begged as he knelt forward, taking your body in his blood-soaked arms and turning you onto your back to cradle you.

“No, please. Please, please, no.” The tears were falling freely now. You were gazing up at him, eyes lifeless and cold, a bullet hole right in the middle of your forehead. Your own blood was running down your face to mix with all the other blood in this godforsaken house. He clutched you tightly to his chest, resting your head in the crook of his neck as he began to sob.

“I’m sorry!” he wept. “I’m sorry, I didn’t… I didn’t want…” He was gasping, choking. “I’m sorry. Please, please don’t be dead. Please wake up. (Y/N), please!”

He didn’t hear Hank enter the room, the Lieutenant’s breath catching in his throat.

“(Y/N),” Connor whimpered. “Please… Don’t leave me. I love you…”