endless sound

Anyway, more on Corvo, well, not speaking.

I really prefer to think that each time someone, like Lady Boyle or Treavor Pendleton, pointed out how “quiet” and “mysterious” Corvo is, it wasn’t some clever funny lampshading on the game mechanics, it’s his actual character trait as seen by the people surrounding him.

And it creates a very nice contrast with his environment and within the story, with the loyalists who use you as a tool and all the aristocrats who are physically unable to shut up and would go on and on with their monologues, enjoying the sound of their own voice to ever be bothered by Corvo not responding. They probably don’t even expect him to respond.

This environment is full of people who lie and cover up their lies with pretty words and shallow praise to get into your good graces, people who apparently talked a lot of shit behind Corvo’s back because of his background and lower class origins, and there’s a constant, endless sound of the propaganda officer talking somewhere at the background.

Corvo was the “doing instead of talking” concept personified, and a single most trusting, honest relationship in the story is the one between him and Emily, which is narrated almost entirely based on gestures, small physical signs of affection and actions taken towards her safety and wellbeing, instead of talk and empty promises.

It made sense to me, story-wise, it never felt like something was lacking. It was just a part of him but I never saw it as a flaw of any kind.

newghost9  asked:

holding hands: kisses or cuddles? stay-at-home dates or out-and-about ones? (i like cuddles, and would prefer stay-at-home dates if i ever had one. too many ppl outside)

Oooooh. For the first one cuddles, and the second I like both but if I had to pick I think out and about sounds fun!

Zelda's Lullaby
Sung by Heta
Zelda's Lullaby

so.. to celebrate ch 1 of the four swords dub coming out, I whipped up a little cover of Zelda’s Lullaby! makes sense to do so, right? being the princess herself.. >v> i hope it turned out okay!

lyrics credit goes to Nessmurr! taken from their older dA~

Bear up my
Ancient lullaby
May sweet dreams find your head tonight
Close your eyes
‘Neath the velvet skies
'Till we meet again…
In sorrow hope takes flight
Darkness brings candlelight 
Think of me when I’m out of sight…
Ease your soul
Of your endless path
Cradled safe and sound o'er the Earth
One star gleams
Whispers on the breeze,
“Dream your fears away…”
Sleep, twinkle of my eye
Hold close this lullaby
Know that I’m always by your side… 

  • Chuuya: [chokes on something]
  • Dazai: Jeez Chuuya don't die on me!
  • Chuuya: Don't tell me what to do, I'll die whenever the fucking hell I want!
  • Dazai:
  • Chuuya, murmurs to himself: ...That sounded so much better in my head.

Shhh…… shhh……

If you could be silent, you would hear it.

The weeping of the desert wind, its soft, low, dreaded cries. The souls of those who perished there. Do not listen to them. An afterlife under the endless sun sounds lovely, i know, but who will collect your mask when you’re three feet down in sand?

Desert winds are ghost bait.

You’ll hear it in the raging trains, too. When they come driving by on rusty tracks, at first it sounds like hollow metal clanking about, but, it is not. It’s a dangerous, sickening, frightening melody sung by all those who weren’t fast enough to escape headlights, or, did not choose to be.

Trains tend to sound like roadkill.

And when you open your window at night, wether it be from the comfort of your shotgun seat of the van thats falling apart that you call a car, or from your bed in a house. You will hear the city so distant. A life out there, maybe, who knows. Listen to the streetlights, the running of your wheels, the low motors of airplanes(?), people further down the motel, camp, town, dead end alley,… They all tell you one thing. There is a life out here. It annoys you, it scares you, because these sounds humans make are always suspicious.

Humans are alive and that’s the nightmare.

But when you drive to the middle of the desert, when shadows embrace the land, and you turn off the motor.

If you dare, if you dare to seek out a silent island in a sea of noise and static.

If there is windstill…

With no coyotes around…

There is silence, thick, heavy and suffocating like death.
And you won’t know what’s worse.

Something to Think About

There are so many things that can be taken for granted, and many of us overlook them everyday. Sometimes we have to go through certain experiences to really recognize all that we have to be grateful for.

The blessings are endless. Sight, smell, sound, touch, and taste, are all things to be grateful for.

If you desire certain material things, it’s helpful to be grateful for all that you already have now. The quality of your life is largely determined by your attitude. It’s the vibes that are very important.

Family and friends, compassion and love, challenges and growth, these are all things to be grateful for.

Life, being able to breathe properly and move around, these are all major blessings that shouldn’t be overlooked.

If you want to attract money, or something else material, first start in those grateful vibes for all the blessings that you do have.

When you want those things from a feeling of lack you put roadblocks in your own way. And sometimes the journey you take on the way to those things helps you gain greater clarity.

Just something to think about today. I wish you all great peace, joy, and love.

Second Chances

Haytham Kenway x Reader

A/N: Oh my gosh, this fic XD I don’t even know. Like honestly, I just chose one of the ones that I started writing at random and finished it. I probably should’ve went with the Jacob one but here we are. XD


Time was nothing more than an endless void, every sound, every movement, every smell, everything, nothing more than an annoyance. Nothing seemed to be allowing you to rest, your eyes snapping open at the uncomfortableness. Instead of the grimy, dark walls you’d gotten accustomed to, a brilliant light assaulted your eyes. You were expecting the constant drip of rainwater seeping through a leak in the roof, instead hearing the soft clatter of porcelain being placed back onto a wooden table. 

The man in front of you was wearing a soft smile, hands clasped elegantly behind his deep blue cloak. Had you not known who he was, you might’ve thought he was friendly. Alas, you did know him. Even if a thousand years passed, you’d recognize those grey eyes anywhere. They were boring into you, looking past your physical appearance and into your very soul. Like the clouds on a stormy day, they were bringing you nothing but gloom, your curiosity turning into a scowl.

“Haytham.” You all but growled, casting your eyes away from his familiar form.

“(Y/N).” He greeted you not unlike how one would an old friend, something that grated on your nerves. How could he do that? He was not your friend. A few moments ticked by, the air filled with heavy silence. You were much too busy with your anger to pay him any heed, your thoughts only fueling the fire. “I believe a show of gratitude would be nice.” You couldn’t stop the curt chuckle that left your lips, your fiery eyes zeroing back in on him.

“A show of gratitude? For what?” You taunted, arms crossing across your chest in a show of annoyance. And annoyed you were.

“Saving your life.” He stated, accent as immaculate as ever.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” You said mockingly, your legs and arms dropping down in a sloppy curtsy. “My greatest thanks, Haytham. You saved my life just so you could take it instead.” You spat, glaring at him. You no longer saw the grey eyes that continued to haunt your dreams, your eyes only seeing red.

“I am not going to take your life.” He was as patient as ever, looking for all the world like your anger didn’t bother him the slightest. And didn’t that just piss you off. You took two steps at a time, grinding your teeth together. You wanted to hurt him, to hit him, to… kiss him? Your steps faltered momentarily, your mind berating itself for THAT particular thought. To stave off the strange feelings plaguing you, you jabbed one finger into his sturdy chest.

“If you’re not going to kill me, let me go.” You ground out, pushing clenching one hand to restrain yourself from punching him.

“I will,” he paused, smiling ever so gently. “Once I am assured that you won’t run off and get yourself killed anyways.”

“Let me go.” You stated again. Haytham’s eyes flashed, an obvious sign of his patience wearing thin.

“If you wa-”

“Let. Me. Go.” You practically shouted, wanting nothing more than to return to your home. You’d been gone for so long, captured by a regiment of bloodthirsty redcoats. Had Haytham not taken you away, you had no doubt that you would be dead. But you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of that. Not after the years that he’d sat there and lied to you. You joined the Brotherhood, you’d taken the oath, and you trained every day. Even with all of that, you still were too blinded by your feelings for Haytham to realize that he was the enemy. He wasn’t who he said he was and your damn heart wouldn’t let you see what your mind was telling you the whole time; Haytham wasn’t your friend and he sure as hell wasn’t your lover. He was manipulating you and you let him. You’d rather die than let him do it again.

“No,” he whispered harshly, pushing your back forcefully against the wall as his body loomed ominously above your own. You were trapped between the wall and him, your mind cursing you for your lapse in concentration.

“Then kill me.” You yelled, shoving at his chest. He caught your hands, forcing you back even closer to the wall than before. Even with you pressed up against the wall, there was only an inch between you and Haytham.

“No,” he repeated, grey eyes shining with a foreign emotion. He didn’t seem angry, instead almost… sad? Why would he be sad? A soft finger traced your jaw, gaze intently following the movements. You didn’t breathe, too shocked by the change of emotion. “I will never hurt you.” He spoke so quietly, you weren’t even sure he said it, his actions betraying nothing.

“Haytham,” you breathed, wishing that you’d push away, flee, do something other than watch him. But you couldn’t, his expression alone pinning you to the spot. He was so hesitant, so unsure, so unlike himself. Before you could question it, he dropped his head into the crook of your neck, his arms coming around your waist to hold you against him. Hot breath caressed your bare skin, the feel of his eyelashes fluttering closed against you almost too much to bear.

“I missed you.” He whispered, his voice so fragile. You could feel the anger drain out of you, being replaced with something much sweeter as your arms wrapped around his neck, one hand running through his hair beneath his hat.

“Why are you doing this?” You questioned aloud, not really meaning to ask him. You were asking yourself. However, he answered.

“Because it hurt too much leaving you the first time, I’m not going to do it again.” Each syllable rolled off his tongue smoothly, his accent like music to your ears.

“And I’m just to trust you?” A strange sensation skittered down your spine at his gentle laughter, his hold temporarily tightening around you.

“Even if I were to say yes, we both know you wouldn’t believe me.” Your lips twitched up in a smile. He was absolutely right. You’d come much too far to trust him without question. Hell, you probably wouldn’t trust him even with question. But you’d also come much too far to deny anyone a second chance. If Achilles had allowed you to return to the Brotherhood after everything with Haytham, why shouldn’t you allow Haytham to redeem himself? After all, the only thing at stake was your heart, and that seemed to annoy you most of the time anyways.

  • “Apparently. I’m not sure. I mean, I’m not sure of anything, really. Who knows? I don’t." 
  • "But okay! You do your thing.”
  • “I don’t want to get into an argument with you about semiotics, _____, but I know what I see." 
  • "I can’t hear and see and understand every single thought or feeling everyone is having at every single moment." 
  • "It’s just too much for me to take in." 
  • "I’m still sad about this. Let’s have a moment of silence for my sadness." 
  • "What’s the worst that could happen? We don’t know, and we’d like to find out." 
  • "It’s not the destination; it’s the endless, exhausting journey." 
  • "That sounds a lot more dramatic than it is." 
  • "There it is again! That sounds so frightening when I say it that way, doesn’t it?" 
  • "And most of all, keep him safe—from others and from himself." 
  • "It’s his job to make bad decisions. It’s your job to make sure they’re not bad enough to cause real damage." 
  • "I have made a terrible mistake, and it consumes me." 
  • "My life was once a life. And now it is an uncorrectable error." 
  • "It gives and it takes and it takes and it takes." 
  • "I would cry, but I don’t think there’s enough of me left anymore to make tears." 
  • "I know this is a hard time for you, _____. But remember: ‘tis better to have loved and lost. It’s really great. Just the best." 
  • "We will never be the same again. But here’s a little secret for you: no one is ever the same thing again after anything." 
  • "Don’t run. You’ll never escape." 
  • "Any moment could be the last one." 
  • "I would hate to be whoever it is that they’re looking for." 
  • "We are, each of us, a vast story waiting for someone to tell it." 
  • "I think they would do the same for us." 
  • "It’s been a rough day." 
  • "It’ll be fine. But maybe hide. Or run away." 
  • "I have no idea what he’s thinking, _____." 
  • "It seems like it was pointing toward a truth I didn’t want to learn." 
  • "I wish he never left." 
  • "All these things are meaningless." 
  • "How? Don’t ask questions." 
  • "If the idea gets inside you, then it’s over." 
  • "Everyone’s got their own thing, you know?" 
  • "So as long as you are loved, it doesn’t matter." 
  • "Oh! You startled me." 
  • "What is experienced may not be real. What is real may never be experienced." 
  • "After all, this moment was only something I experienced, not something I know is real.”
Calling

I hear something
Calling me,
But the sound is lost
Before it reaches my ears.
I wish to hear it,
And trap the melody
Of the words
Inside my mind,
But it’s gone too quickly.
The sound keeps calling
Never reaching,
Always at a distance
Untouchable
Unheard
My ears straining,
Desperate to catch a whisper
A breath
Of this hidden language.
If I could just hear that sound
Clearly
If it just came calling
Loudly
I could follow its music
Into the life I’m meant to live
Walking toward the echo
That is trapped in that hidden valley,
My eyes hungry
For the endless horizon
My future in the sunset
Fading into night.

Original Work: KH 1/7/15

Endless Forms Most Beautiful (Alternative)
Nightwish
Endless Forms Most Beautiful (Alternative)
Endless Forms Most Beautiful (Alternative)–Nightwish Beyond aeons we take a ride
Welcoming the shrew that survived
To see the Tiktaalik
Take her first walk; witness the birth of flight

Deeper down in Panthalassa
A eukaryote finds her way
We return to the very first one
Greet the one we’ll soon become

Lay on a field of green with mother Eve
With father by reaching high
Look at yourself in the eyes of aye-aye
Unfolding rendezvous

Deep into the past
The lonely eon path
Greet a blade of grass
Every endless form most beautiful
Sounds heavier but almost like Pop Rock. I like it.
Salt of the Earth, Salt of the Sea - Chapter 1

Summary: After falling into a sacred pool of water during a magical ritual for the full moon, land-boy Percy inherits the powers of mermaids. Banished from the pod for letting a human tread on their consecrated island, mermaids Annabeth, Piper, and Hazel must take the power from him in order to rejoin their family. But the island’s secrets go deeper than any of them realize. FF.net / AO3

~

There was nothing.

And then there was water.

Lots of water.

He had been dropped so suddenly, he didn’t even have time to cling to one final breath. The air was knocked out of him, like a punch to the chest. He drifted there, bubbles licking at his bare arms and legs, pulling him down down down - no - hands, fingers pulling him, pushing, drowning. The water, white in the full moonlight, was endless. No sound, except for his heartbeat, thrummed in his ears. There was no escape. A startlingly sober thought crossed his mind: I’m going to die here.

The fingers were cold, firm, yanking him out of the moon’s eye, the darkness tunnelling his vision. His eyes drifted shut, whatever life left in him fading as fast as the light. His lungs burned like he’d sucked in an entire bonfire, but another warmth - low in his belly - wrapped around him until it consumed his entire body, like a blanket on a winter’s night. He yearned for air, gasping for it, but got water instead.

The dark was all he had.

Then he was nothing.


It was kind of a weird thing, waking up.

Not necessarily the ‘waking up’ bit, but more of the 'waking up on a beach with no idea about how he got there’ part. That was confusing.

When he blinked his eyes open, all he saw was cloudless blue sky, the kind of blue that makes you feel small and sort of stupid because it’s just too pure to be that blue blue. Wind whispered through the palm trees, making their branches shimmy and shake; it sounded like white noise in his addle-brained state. The ocean hissed against the reef, tumbling with a roar as it crashed over itself in white capped mountains, then lapped at the beach.

His clothes were warm, baked by the high summer sun. His chest rose and fell, in tune with the waves. The air was crisp, fresh, and smelled distinctly like salt. He wiggled his toes inside his Chucks and gripped his fingers through the hot sand. It raked through his fingers, grit getting under his nails.

Then the ocean started calling to him.

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