the silence of sound

testosterone poisoning

  “Treat her badly and I’ll rip your balls off and cram them down your throat,” Jamie’s voice said softly, in Gaelic.  

  I glanced at Brianna, and saw that her mastery of Gaelic was sufficient to have appreciated the gist of this. Her mouth opened, but she didn’t get a word out.  

  There was the sound of a quick scuffle outside, ending in an even louder thump, as of a head striking logs.  

  Roger didn’t have Jamie’s air of quiet menace, but his voice rang with sincerity. “Lay hands on me once more, you fucking sod, and I’ll stuff your head back up your arse where it came from!”  

  There was a moment’s silence, and then the sound of feet moving off. A moment later, Jamie made a Scottish noise deep in his throat, and moved off too.  

  Brianna’s eyes were round as she looked at me.  

  “Testosterone poisoning,” I said, with a shrug.  

  “Can you do anything about it?” she asked. The corner of her mouth twitched, though I couldn’t tell whether with laughter or incipient hysteria.  

   I pushed a hand through my hair, considering.  

  “Well,” I said finally, “there are only two things they do with it, and one of them is try to kill each other.”  

  Brianna rubbed her nose.  

  “Uh-huh,” she said. “And the other…” Our eyes met with a perfect understanding.  

  “I’ll take care of your father,” I said. “But Roger’s up to you.”

– Drums of Autumn

Party Crasher (a fic inspired by a friendly anon)

Joker ducked into the first unlocked apartment he could find, just needing a quick place to hide and breathe after robbing his favorite explosives outlet and before he attempted his heist on the nearby First National Bank of Gotham. Harley was not far behind.

A room full of startled faces turned in their direction upon hearing the door slam. If the decorations and cake were any indication, Joker would have said he’d stumbled into someone’s party.

An evil, toothy grin spread across his face, seeing an opportunity to spread a little mayhem before tonight’s rendezvous with his Bat.

“Hello there, kiddos!” he shouted, drawing himself up to his full impressive height. “Let’s get this party started, shall we!?”

Silence, followed by screams. Joker let the familiar sound wash over him until it became…not so familiar somehow.

“Oh my gosh! Is that the Joker!?” a little girl with straight, blonde hair cried in…was that delight? He suddenly realized why the screams had seemed off. They were the sort of ecstatic screams he normally heard from Batman’s adoring public. An especially loud squeal of joy came from a little brown eyed boy in a wheelchair near the back of the dining room. He wore a large crown that read “BIRTHDAY BOY” in big purple and green letters.

Before he could do anything else, a man with glasses in a plaid sweater and khakis pressed into Joker’s personal space.

“Thanks so much for coming on such short notice. Your outfit is spectacular, by the way. You really made me believe the Joker had just barged into our house.” A nervous laugh. “Oh, and I see you’ve brought a Harley with you!” A small wave from his partner in crime. “Not a problem. We’ll have your payment after the party’s over.”

“I’m not-”

“Mr. Joker! Mr. Joker! Can I take a picture with you, please?” the boy in the wheelchair begged excitedly. The starry eyed expression he directed at him reminded Joker of how Birdboy typically looked at Batman.

Oh, how he wanted to. He wanted to pose for every picture these kids asked for, sign autographs, tell them his stories and listen to theirs. Anything at all that they wanted because they were HIS FANS! Those beautiful gems of people that were so few and far between. But…

“As…fun as that sounds, kid, I think I need to g-”

A swift punch to the shoulder by Harley silenced him. He was beginning to wonder if he’d ever get to finish a sentence.

“S’cuse us for a minute, kiddies.”

Some disappointed groans and confused mumbles came in answer as Harley yanked Joker back into the entryway near the front door.

“What do ya think you’re doin’?” Harley snipped in a hushed tone.

“What do you mean what am I doing? I’m getting out of here, as planned. We have to be at the bank by 5:15 and it’s already,” he stopped to examine his Tweety Bird watch. “nearly 4:45. We don’t have time for this.”

Harley shook her head, pigtails flying where they may. “No, puddin’. Those kids are your fans and I know how important they are to you. Like that one girl from Uptown you still keep tabs on that gave you the glittery nail polish and candy.

Joker couldn’t help but smirk. “I still don’t know how Leana knew how much I love Tootsie Rolls.”

“You see? Now go in there and spend a quick minute with those kids.”

The villain’s face lit up like it was Christmas and practically sprinted back to the heart of the party.

“Birthday boy!” He called, pointing to the boy. “What’s your name?”

“James!” he replied, eyes still twinkling. He was wearing a grin that could have put Joker himself to shame.

“Well, Jimmy. Howza ‘bout we get you that picture?”

Plenty of hugs and please’s and thank you’s (and a quick piece of cake) later, Joker and Harley knew that they actually had to leave for their appointment at the bank. But before he left, Joker made sure to grab one more big hug from James and conspiratorially whisper to him: “Turn the TV to Channel 6 when I leave.”

The kid nodded as if receiving a secret mission, then smiled again. ”Thank you, Mr. Joker. This was the best present ever.”

“No problem, kid. Happy to meet you.” A gentle swipe of his brown hair. “I’ll be in touch.”

With that, the two were gone.

James quickly rolled himself over to the TV, eager to see whatever it was that Joker had wanted him to see.
“What are you doing, baby?” his mom asked. “You still have guests and presents here.”

”I know, mom, but Joker told me to.”

She smiled, shaking her head and let her son do as he pleased when she heard the door open once more.

“Hey, everyone! Who’s ready to smile!”

The party went silent as everyone looked at the man who had just come in looking a lot like the Joker.

James’ parents glanced at each other before they heard a delighted squeal come from their son.

“Look, everybody! He’s waving!” he cried and the entire room filed in to press around the screen. Sure enough, the man and woman who had been at their party mere minutes earlier were covered in concrete dust and framed by smoke and fire.

“Happy Birthday, James! It was a BLAST!” Joker cried as another explosion sounded behind him.

Imagine Nico getting traumatic flashbacks to Tartarus. And when he feels the fear coming on, he plays Simon & Garfunkel’s “The Sound of Silence” as his comfort song. It soothes him just through the tune, but also the lyrics help him remember that the darkness and the silence are on his side outside of the pit.

Imagine him standing outside his cabin alone with headphones in, staring out into the night and silently reminding himself that the son of Hades has nothing to fear from the dark.

Ahkmenrah x Punk!Reader: Settling the Score

I don’t own Night at the Museum.  Other than that, enjoy!

You loudly popped your bubble gum as you reclined in the chair at the information desk, resting your feet on the desk.  Ahkmenrah, who was sitting a few yards away, snapped.  “Would you please stop?”  He ground out, not looking up from the chessboard.  He moved a piece and Teddy groaned.  You rolled your eyes and popped your bubble gum again, flicking some hair out of your eyes.  “Unbelievable.”

“You’ll get over it, sunshine.”  You didn’t look up from your magazine.  He huffed and turned back to his game.  After a few moments of silence occasionally divided by the sound of flipping a magazine page, you spun in the chair and reached for the radio. Flicking through the channels until you found a punk rock station, you turned it up as loud as it could go.  You watched Ahkmenrah mutter something under his breath, and you smirked.

Y/N: 1

Ahkmenrah: 0

You were sitting at the desk again the next night, drumming on the table with a pair of chopsticks you found in the trash.  Ahkmenrah was sitting at the bench, reading a book.

Or rather, was trying to read a book.

“Do you really have to do that?”

“Probably not,” You shrugged and continued.  He sighed again.  You thought you won.

Then Ahkmenrah stalk over, snatched your chopsticks, and snapped them in half.  He dumped them in the trash bin and returned to his seat with a triumphant expression, leaving you speechless.

Y/N: 1

Ahkmenrah: 1

You tucked Ahkmenrah’s crown in the drawer of the desk a few seconds before he came in.  You just managed to duck under the desk as he strode in.  You heard him stop in front of the desk and you held your breath.   When the footsteps faded you let out a sigh of relief.  

The relief quickly turned to dread when the realization hit you.

You left your guitar pick on the desk.

You carried it everywhere with you, even though you didn’t even have a guitar in you exhibit.  But you didn’t go anywhere without your pick.  
And you knew exactly who took it.  You immediately leapt up and took off after the Pharaoh.  “Ahk!” You shrieked as you took off after him.  You heard his laughter echo through the whole museum.

Y/N: 1

Ahkmenrah: 2

For now.

Ahkmenrah ducked behind a pillar, snickering as he clutched the colourful pick in his hand.  He heard heavy footsteps behind him, and he peeked out from behind the pillar to see you angrily scanned the room.  He hid himself again.
Then he felt a hand clench the fist with the pick.  He quickly wrenched his hand away and held it above his head.  Your reached up, but your fingers barely grazed the bottom of his hand.  When you jumped, he jumped too.  You huffed angrily.  “What’s it gonna take to get my pick back?”  Ahkmenrah thought.  Then he shrugged.

“Surprise me.”  You huffed again.  What could you do?

Then it hit you.  An evil grin slowly spread across his face.  Then, before he could ask what you were up to, you grabbed his face in both hands and pulled his mouth to yours.  He flailed in surprise for a moment, before he slowly relaxed and leaned into it.  His arms slowly lowered and wrapped around you.  You would be lying if you said you weren’t enjoying it, but you had other things on your mind.  You slowly pulled back.  Ahkmenrah’s eyes were still closed, and his breathing was a little heavy.

“Thank you,” Your murmured softly.  His eyes opened and looked at you in confusion.  Without another word, you snatched the pick out of the hand around your waist.  You pecked him on the lips one more time, and with one last cheeky grin, you took off running, leaving a very confused and very red Pharaoh behind.

Y/N: 2

Ahkmenrah: 2

Thanks to the anon that requested this one!


Goodnight, Captain
(AKA vague prequel to this)

Where freshly minted Captain Kirk reads up on stuff even when he’s not on shift and nods off in random conference rooms on the Enterprise. Certain first officers who don’t require as much sleep take care of things.



@sixpenceee @sixpenceeeblog I got the soundtrack to the Graduate in the dollar bin of my record store, and JUST THE INSTRUMENTAL is fucked up. It’s absolutely some sixpenceee shit.

imagine maggie pressing her ear up against alex’s heartbeat in their quiet moments for years to come after this. whenever alex asks her about it, maggie will try to brush it off. she’ll say “just making sure you’re still with me, danvers” with one of her smiles.

they both know what it’s really about, but “the silence of your stopped heart is a sound I’ll never be able to get out of my head” is just a little too much for maggie to actually voice.


An earth day story of trying to find silence…and to protect a tiny bit of it in Olympic National Park

Gordon Hempton is on a personal quest to preserve silence in nature. The “sound-tracker” circles the globe recording vanishing sounds, including the most elusive one of all: silence. In 2005, Hempton resolved to find the quietest place in Washington’s Hoh rainforest, itself a haven of silence. According to Hempton, the area he found is precisely one square inch. But that little area of quiet—which holds incredible value for the Earth—is endangered. Now, Hempton is determined to protect it from noise pollution like overpassing jets, lest we lose one of our country’s last remaining silent places.