cities from the sky


Cities From The Sky

1 •Dubaï, Émirats Arabes Unis.

2 • Shanghai, Chine.

3 • Mexico, Mexique.

4 • Barcelone, Espagne.

5 • Amsterdam, Pays-Bas.

6 • Venise, Italie

7 • Moscou, Russie.

8 • San Francisco, États-Unis.

9 • Paris, France.

10 • Seattle, Etats-Unis.

via fubiz

Let You Go || Park Jimin

Originally posted by yoonmin

Word Count: 3.0k

Genre: Angst/Fluff

The airport was a busy place, filled with busy people living busy lives and heading to their own respective places. It just so happened that you happened to be one of the few who wasn’t as busy, which meant you could take your time to look around at everyone walking around you. It amazed you to see how many people lived here, how many people were constantly traveling It was like an entirely different world to you.

Your parents had moved from Seoul when you were at a very young age, and moved to America. You had been living in America and you had grown up learning to speak English and Korean, as your family didn’t want you to forget where you were from and at some point they were planning on moving back to Seoul, they just weren’t sure when.

Jiwon was one of the only other Korean people you knew in New York. The two of you had instantly bonded over the fact that you shared the same nationality and you became instant friends. You were excited to finally have someone you could talk to in your native language, and it seemed she was just as excited. The two of you would gossip all the time and you would find yourselves always getting into trouble.

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Domestic Powers #2: Lincoln

(In case you didn’t know this is a series of posts I’m writing that headcanons the domestic uses and idiosyncrasies of Inhuman powers. Feel free to send headcanons of your own.)

I know that when he’s upset, or angry, or scared, Lincoln has difficulty controlling his powers. But I’d like to call attention to the fact that when he’s more calm, the amount of precision that he has is AMAZING. He knew the exact amount of voltage required to float Daisy without hurting her. He knew the exact voltage necessary for electrical resuscitation, and for rebooting electrical circuits without frying them. Those are all very specific amounts of electricity, and in those instances he was in PERFECT control. So let’s destroy the notion that Lincoln has a very loose grasp on his abilities all the time.

Let’s talk domesticities.
His ability isn’t just lightning, it’s the concentration and manipulation of any electrical current. Which means his fighting can be so much deadlier that lightning bolts. Imagine Lincoln snapping his fingers and any given adversary falling face first to the ground, because the synapses in their brain are no longer firing. Imagine Lincoln being able to wreck havoc in a persons brain by manipulating the electricity it runs on. Imaging a room full of Hydra agents dropping mid-step, because their SAN was overloaded. (FYI, SAN/ the sinoatrial node/ is one of the nodes next to your heart that keep it beating)

But he’s also a doctor. So imagine him learning to ease a person in pain by not allowing the wounded person’s nervous system to send electrical signals to the brain. Imagine him being able to tell whether or not a person is brain dead just by touching them, or helping a damaged brain create new electrical pathways.
•Lincoln learning about ECT, and being able to help people with extreme depression, mania, aggression, dementia, and catatonia that medications didn’t help. Lincoln being skilled in any kind of immediate, in the field, electrical resuscitation.

What about the little quirks? Like the fact that EMPs, for some reason, knock him out cold. (They discovered this on accident in the field with Mack, who never lets him forget it. All the cell phones died, and Lincoln fell flat on his face. Daisy laughed herself to tears.)

•He has a constant static buildup. When you stand too close, the hair on you arms stand on end. It’s actually ridiculous when he gets sweatshirts out of the dryer and then comes in contact with any conductive surface. Loud zapping and cursing can be heard coming from anyone touching said surface.

•His eyes, during the day, are their normal gunmetal blue. In darkness, however, they have a strange blue luminescence. It’s not enough to see by, but enough to know that it’s there. (He scared the crap out of Daisy on more than one occasion with this unintentional quirk. He didn’t even know he was doing it until she told him.)

•His phone holds its charge for a ridiculous amount of time, something that frustrates Daisy and Fitz to no end. On long flights, a bemused Lincoln can be found with iPhone charger wires wrapped around his fingers. (“Daisy…I don’t think”-“Shhh just one second I have to beat Elena at this level of flappy birds and my phone is almost dead”) He has been used as a field generator on more than one occasion.

•On the 4th of July, eternal sparklers dance in his fingertips.

•Even though cell phones and tablets love him, computers DO NOT. If he’s not paying attention, something about him messes with their circuitry. (Jemma will never let him forget the time he sneezed while researching on a lab computer and to this day it only work on weekends and every other Thursday. Fitz and Daisy have taken to magnetizing things.)

•Since Coulson and Mack have made it their personal mission to educate Lincoln in the world of alien and robot horror movies, he has mastered the “horror-movie-light-flicker”. He enlisted Elena’s help to prank unsuspecting agents around the base. Empty hallway, light flicker, and Elena is breathing down the agents neck in dollar store horror mask (that Daisy definitely did not buy for her.)

•He can control the skies themselves. During thunderstorms, he directs the electrical imbalance between clouds and Earth to create lightning storms that can send entire cities into blackouts. He can make planes fall from the sky by draining their controls, and short entire cities of communication. Lincoln is powerful enough to do things he never dared attempt. Like Daisy, he’s never actually reached the limits of his powers. He doesn’t even know if he has any.

•External circuits of electricity don’t hurt him. It was one of the things that puzzled the Hydra scientists that captured him. When subjecting him to the electric shocks typical of a powered person testing, he absorbed 99% of it, no matter the voltage. All it did was wear him out.

•There are two major field operations for Lincoln, blowing stuff up or sucking it dry. If they are operating in stealth, he sucks the whole place dry of electricity and let’s them wander in the dark without communications. Or, he can blow every circuit for the perimeter radius, and set every piece of information ablaze.

•He smells faintly of ozone, after he’s used his abilities for lengthy amounts of time. Like Daisy, if he overuses his powers, he can actually hurt himself. He develops thin spidery Lichtenberg figures along his forearms running up over his shoulders.

•When he absentmindedly plays with Daisy’s hair after a long day, tiny electrical pulses help relax her tired muscles. Sometimes he doesn’t even realize he’s doing it, but she enjoys it, so she just lets him play with her hair and think.

•He can maneuver large pieces of rubble and other heavy objects by levitating them like he did Daisy. His current record for mass is the entire wing in an exploded quinjet (Daisy helped).

•Because of his gifs, he has been called every nickname in the book. Sparks, Sparkplug, Electroboy, Sparky, Power Ranger, Sparkler, Sparkly, the list goes on for eternity. Mack is to blame for most of them. In the days of Afterlife, before his abilities were fine tuned, electrical fires were very common. Any combustible materials could be set ablaze with ease. Most of his shirts were freckled with burn holes. Swimming was an issue as well. (Once, while in a pool, he was doused thoroughly by an inhuman hydrokinetic. This was shortly followed with yelps and cursing from the people in the pool, who had all been accidentally electrocuted.)

•When he got a cold, he sneezed LITERAL sparks. (Another fact that Daisy’s finds disproportionately hilarious).

•Just…Lincoln using his beautiful abilities for more than lightning bolts. (@*^*@) ヾ(*´∀`*)ノ

Cappadocia, Turkey - is a ancient region in Central Anatolia, best known for its unique moon-like landscape, underground cities and cave towns. All of which is best seen from the sky, with dozens of hot air balloons offering amazing bird                                                 eye views.

           Travel Gurus - Follow for more Amazing Photographies!

lozenger8  asked:

What kind of nerdy interests do you think Sam and Bucky would be surprised to find they share?

For Sam, it starts with an elementary class trip to a planetarium.

The lights dim and the dome above them glitters with stars and even though everyone else is still giggling, Marisol poking him in the ribs to get his attention and Ben trying to tell him about the math quiz he’s sure he’d bombed, that’s it. Sam is sold.

“Did you know,” he says that night, hopping from foot to foot with excitement, “the Milky Way, it’s got four hundred billion stars.” It’s a number so big he can’t even hold it in his head. Just squints out the window as if he’ll be able to see any one of those four hundred billion through the dull glow of the city sky. His mom smiles.

“I didn’t know,” she says. Kisses his forehead. “Guessing I’ll be hearing a lot more of those facts real soon, huh.”

He gets a book about the universe for his birthday. A star map for Christmas. They stick plastic glow-in-the-dark stars onto his bedroom ceiling, all his favorite constellations. Orion and Pegasus and the Lyre, Vega bright enough he can spot it even in the Harlem night sky.

They don’t fade. Still there when he and Ben get a little drunk on the beer Ben’s cousin buys him. Still there when Marisol (and Kate, and Arthur, later,) kiss him cautious and a little daring, his bedroom door still open just like the house rules say it’s gotta be.

Still there when his dad isn’t, and that’s wrong, that’s not how it should be, his dad’s supposed to be here forever, isn’t he? That’s what dads do. That’s where Sam’s dad should be.

When Sam flies, it’s like he’s up in the sky right there with the stars. Like he could just reach out and touch.

“Man, watch this,” Riley says, and loops tight and twisting, wings flaring out, and his laughter is as bright as the stars are in this sky where the stars are unfamiliar and there’s no light pollution to dim them at all.

(The stars are still there when Riley’s gone, too, and Sam stares up at them dully for hours. Days. Weeks and months. They’re nothing but shitty yellow plastic, and he’d hate them if he had the energy to hate anything.)

The back door is open, and Sam can’t sleep, and he steps outside just to take a breath, that’s all. Except someone’s already on the deck, stretched out on their back like they’re taking a nap, and Bucky’s arm glints in the moonlight.

“Sorry,” Sam says. “I just-”

“Couldn’t sleep?” Bucky asks. “Yeah, that’s familiar.”

“So, what, you thought you’d try it out here?” Sam says, can’t help but be curious, and Bucky tilts his head back to look at Sam leaning in the back doorway. Huffs a little.

“Nah,” he says, “it’s just-” Goes silent, and looks up at the sky for a long time. “Did you know,” he says, when he’s been quiet for long enough Sam thinks the conversation is over already. “Our galaxy. It’s got four hundred billion stars in.”

“Yeah,” Sam says, blinking in surprise. “Yeah, I did- I did know.” It’s enough that he sits his ass down next to Bucky, wraps his arms around his knees, tilts his own face up to the sky. Their safehouse is far out, away from any cities. The sky is brighter than anything he’s seen in years.

“Wish I had a telescope,” Bucky murmurs. “You know, when I was real little, they thought the Milky Way was the only galaxy in the universe? Then that Hubble guy showed up. I used to read a lot. Expanding universe and all that. Entire galaxies outside our own. Worlds and worlds, receding off into infinity.”

It’s more than Bucky’s ever said to him in one go. Sam takes a breath, feeling the cool night air fill his lungs right up, and exhales. Lies down, and stares up at the stars, carefully not looking at Bucky.

“New York sky bug you back then, too?” he asks, very casually, and Bucky laughs.

“Oh my god, the smog, it was fuckin’ awful,” he agrees. “Light pollution’s worse nowadays, but at least we don’t burn as much coal for heat, Jesus.”

“That one there,” Sam says, reaching up to point, “it’s Vega,” and he knows Bucky must know, but he’s leaning over a little closer. Drops his arm back down, closer still, and thinks about the distance between galaxies.

“Yeah,” Bucky says, very softly, “yeah, I know, it’s beautiful,” and links his little finger with Sam’s. The universe expanding, and Sam feels it all in that one small touch.


It was freezing. Harsh winds were blowing, pushing against Kyungsoo’s back as he walked down the sidewalk towards the radio station. He pulled his black pea coast up around his neck, tucking his scarf into his jacket more. Why hadn’t he taken the car all the way here? Ah, yes because he was an idiot and he wanted to think about what he was doing before he got there. Clear his mind as it was. EXO was done. At least for now, they deserved a long break, Xiumin was off to the army soon, and he knew he would be as well. He was about to release a slow jams R&B record and SM was all for promoting him solo. He didn’t want to do any fan meets, and he was lax about doing concerts until record sales hit a certain amount of numbers. All DO really wanted to do was relax. He wanted to be able to wake up, and do what he wanted, when he wanted and not worry about people crowding him. 

Truth be told, since EXO had announced their hiatus, 6 months ago, he went out for the first time in forever, and bought a cup of coffee. No one said anything to him. He opened the door to the radio station, greeted by the people inside. 

They smiled at him and showed him to the floor, he was supposed to go. Coffee was all he wanted, and maybe some snacks. The radio MC came in, shaking his hand. The older gentleman, smiled, his peppered hair messy on his head. 

“Do Kyungsoo, how are you feeling about tonight?”

“Good. A little nervous, but I know that’s normal until I settle into it anyway.” DO stood up, giving a slight bow to the older man. 

“You’ll be fine. I’ve been broadcasting this for like two weeks, and rating have soared. We are going to have a ton of listeners tonight.” The man clapped his shoulder, leaving the small room. 

DO sat, leaning his head back against the wall. They had a list of questions, that he had looked over, but in reality he was comfortable with just about anything. If he didn’t want to answer, he wouldn’t. That simple. A young woman, clipboard in hand opened the door summoning him. 

“The show is on in 10 minutes, let’s get you set up.” She led Kyungsoo to a room, with chairs and mics and headphones. 

He sat down in the chair across from the MC, and she handed him a set of headphones, adjusting a mic in front of him. He set his coffee down, and asked for a refill.

He listened to a few more songs play before the MC, cleared his throat and motioned for him to do the same.

“Hello, listeners, thank you for tuning in tonight. We have our special guest here. EXO member Do Kyungsoo, lead vocals in the group. He is releasing a solo album next week entitled: Castaway Love. How are you DO?”

Kyungsoo coughed a bit. “I’m good, how are you?”

“Fine, thanks for asking. So, EXO is on hiatus. How do you feel?”

One thing that was weird about radio interviews is that even though, DO was sitting right in front of the interviewer, this was live and essentially he was talking to the listeners. “It feels liberating in a way, but it’s also kind of weird. We don’t stay in the dorms so, we are all off and doing our own thing for awhile. It was an adjustment period. Some of us still room together in shared apartments.”

“Really? What about you?” He stared at DO from across the table.

“I live alone. I like my privacy. I like being able to just do what I want and know no one is watching me. I’m an introvert, by nature.” DO chuckled. 

“Being alone, living alone. Is that the kind of atmosphere, that fueled your album?”

DO tapped his fingers on the wood. “I want to say yes, but it was things before that. I think that the privacy enabled me to search within myself, and pull out what I wanted to sing about.” 

The MC nodded his head. “And pull out the emotions you did. I listened to the two tracks you released and my god. This is you pouring out your soul. This is raw emotion. It seems too real.”

DO smiled, shrugging his shoulders. “I mean, I don’t do sub par work. To answer, your question though, it is real.” 

The MC hummed loudly. “So there is a woman at the center of the labyrinth that is Kyungsoo. With the success and worldwide fame of EXO, I would assume so. So, is that what this is about a special lady?”

“Uh, I mean.” DO thought carefully about his next words, rubbing his neck. “I had fun during the EXO time. There were women who caught my eye. I’ve only been in love one time. I’ve only truly loved one woman. So, yea, the album is about her.” 

“Now this is a story in itself! We weren’t even going this far. We have to hear this. Can you share it?”

DO licked his lips, the memories rushing back into his mind. His heart began to thump as her face appeared in his mind. He told himself he wouldn’t think of her anymore. It was over and the past stayed in the past. No time for second chances. He could tell the story though, he could let others know that he was more than just a shell.

“I can tell the story, sure.” He wiped his eyes, and took a sip of his coffee. 

“So, where did you meet this mystery woman? On tour? Fan Meet? Noodle shop?” 

“In America, actually. On my own time. I had some time between comebacks, and I had always wanted to vacation in America. So, I did some research and ended up in North Carolina. Rented a house there and just had fun. I went there because, EXO was never in North Carolina. I had privacy.”

“So an American woman? Korean-American?” The MC asked.

“I’ll get into that.” DO grinned, his finger moving around the rim of his cup. “Basically, I was near the ocean, I was far enough from the big cities to enjoy the night sky. I had a good time and fell in love.” 

DO listened the host talk nonchalantly after that, the show was winding up for the night, and he let the thoughts of her drift in and out of his head, as he listened to some callers and took questions. He knew this would pop up. Some women telling him of their love, and could he fall in love again. Others complaining, that he went to America and found love what was wrong with Korea?

At the end, he stood up and thanked the MC for his time. The older man smiling at him. 

“I’m really interested in hearing this. My whole show is based around lost love, love newly found, and missed connections. Your story sounds like all three! Same time tomorrow? Should I call your manager?”

Do shook his head. “I mostly do my own thing now. I’ll be here.” He exited the building, pulling his coat once more around his neck. 

The car was here this time and he walked the short distance to the door, as ice crystals stung his cheeks. She would have loved this, she liked snow. His hand on the door handle, he heard her soft laugh in his ear. Why did he make himself go down this path again? 

Chapter Two

Can you name the locations of these amazing views from plane windows?

Few sights are more impressive than planet Earth from a plane window. But how easily can you recognise cities, mountains and countries from the sky? We’ve devised the following quiz to put your knowledge to the test and mark what it is expected to be the busiest day in history for flights to and from UK airports (that’s tomorrow, July 21).

For those that often find themselves wondering which town, lake or river they are flying over, there’s actually an app with the answers. Flyover Country provides information on points of interest below, and, so long as users input their flight path before takeoff, does not require the purchase of expensive Wi-Fi access.

Once you’re done answering our questions, you might want to try some of our other deviously difficult quizzes. We’ve looked at island outlines, the myths of air travelBritain’s seaside resortsobscure capitalscities from above, and the world’s most famous paintings, to name but a few.

A brief analysis of the Xenoblade 2 footage

It’s going to have a huge world. Just look at that moving mountain creature! It’s going places, just like us. Also look at that city! It has windmills and is really brightly colored. I think it’s fair to say this game takes place a while after Xenoblade Chronicles. The architecture does look somewhat closer to the homs buildings than anything. Also, notice the wall? It looks rather well defended. What do they need the protection from? 

CITIES IN THE SKY!!! I wonder if they’ll be any high enter here or this has more machina influence? However due to the colors, this civilization is probably related to the windmill colony.

The character designs are different… Also, is she a homs? Machina? Something completely different? MECHON? Also fire. And loving the world and someone else. Maybe Blue Baggy Pants. IDK.


Things are beautiful. That tree is going to be important. I have no idea what Blue Baggy Pants is wearing but I’m probably going to change his equipment very early game. However, as we don’t really see his face, could it be possible that Blue Baggy Pants is a player avatar character like Cross rather than a Shulk? Don’t know, but he has a moNOTdo so everything is right in the world.

The Butterfly Effect

I said I wasn’t going to write anything else, and this will show you why, because it’s tripe :/

I’ve never been to Dubai or Bali, or scuba-dived, so if this makes no sense, blame google! 

Read it on AO3 or here. 

No warnings except for poor quality and excess length.

So they say that when a butterfly flaps its wings in New Mexico, it causes a hurricane in China.

Another way to put that: when you go shopping in London, you fall in love in Bali.

I’d never have fallen in love if it wasn’t for that new year’s resolution.

No, wait, that’s not the start, let’s begin again. It all started when there was nothing on at the cinema.

No, let’s go back another stage… See when that chaos butterfly started flapping its wings.

I’m only in love, because he cheated. No not him, not the guy I’m in love with now. The other guy. The first one. The creep, the jerk I stayed with too long because I was afraid of everything. The guy who, I can see now, belittled me, and treated me like crap. I’m in love with this guy now, because of that guy. Maybe I should thank him?

So, let’s start at the beginning. The day I finished my Christmas shopping too early. Maybe, just maybe, if I’d taken longer, things would have been different. There’s that butterfly flapping its wings. I’d told Brock I’d be out of the house all day, I was going to go tackle all my Christmas shopping in one day, the first of December, maybe catch a film after to celebrate, get home around 10 at night. That was the plan. Then, flap flap flutter… I was on a roll, I had half the shopping done before I stopped for coffee. Had a cake to celebrate, made a list, set off for the other half. I was like a demon, in and out of the shops, that for Mum, that for Dad, that and that and that for Brock, because, well, we were in love, weren’t we?

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endverse gothic

[tw post-apocalyptic grotesque bleakness involving dead bodies & stuff]

He’s headed northwest on I-70 when at last he’s finally forced to pull over.

In the end, it’s not because he’s out of gas, or because stalled cars and trucks have blocked the interstate completely making it impossible to go around. He’s had to go off-road surprisingly few times, mostly thanks to multi-vehicle collisions; drivers long since dragged from their cars and either devoured or turned, stuck horns no longer blaring, headlights dimmed. Only very rarely is the clump of accidents so bad and the shoulder so impassable (or, once, in Pennsylvania, a washed-out bridge) that he simply has to change cars: walk to the other side of the tangle and steel himself to pull whatever’s left from another driver’s seat. Then there’s a ritual: jump-start the battery with his remaining juice, hot-wire ignition the way he was taught; check the gas level, wipe the oil dipstick, examine the tires. Sometimes, to his relief and pleasure—an uncomfortable pleasure, followed by a thick sickened feeling he suspects might be shame—all he has to do is just turn the key, because whoever was about to die had startled presence of mind enough, was so schooled and conditioned by habit, that she’d simply turned off her car in the moments before death.

It’s almost always she, he notices. The same ones who leave behind well-organized purses and center consoles and gloveboxes, handbags he ransacks for their stores of tissues and lotion, candy and gum, painkillers and stronger prescription drugs. These are the women who keep bottled water in the cup holders, fruit rollups and energy bars in the back floorboards or seat pockets. When he is forced to switch cars, he brings everything with him, carries it in the largest handbag he’s found: a pebbled chocolate-brown satchel with a dulled gold stamp reading “kate spade.” He addresses Kate, sometimes, not just in his head but already aloud; thanks her for the water, for the lip emollients that stop his own from burning.

Even this far from big cities the sky roils with dark smoke, heavy and unsettled. He’s lost enough grace not to be able to tell what it is that’s burning, which chemicals and pollutants sift down through the air and sting his eyes and membranes inside his nose and mouth. It’s sifting away, too; he loses it by the hour—it dries up, like watching water evaporate from a puddle. I wasted time, he thinks, not with bitterness but numbly, and now doth time waste me.

(Sometimes in the cars he finds children, their gender obscured by decay. He needs to remember, tries to, that they were people, that they were just as beloved. Whatever rags the children are wearing, whatever length of hair remains on their skulls, he calls them all Mary, because that name once meant something. He unstraps them gently from their seats, arranges families together by the side of the interstate and starts the fire, leaving quickly before it can draw attention. He prays sometimes but only once he’s driving away, safe behind the wheel; sometimes tries to sing “Dies Irae” or say the קדיש, mumbles requiums under his breath, larynx hoarse, throat choking shut on the notes.)

Long ago, pressed into the clammy stone, years he spent listening enrapt to that one contralto nun, her voice like rich soft rainwater gliding over the modal syllables of “Ave, generosa,” transcendent hymns she wrote in Mary’s praise. Listened decades, half a century, until her clear skin wrinkled and she grew old, until she was not. She had something he no longer has, did he ever have it. Did humanity. Was it a thing that ever existed once, that he helped smash. Does she write psalms even now in her heaven, does she still cradle and lift into the light that glorious lucent glasslike orb of her fragile but luminous faith.

for heaven’s flood poured into you
as heaven’s word was clothed in flesh in you
you are the lily, gleaming white, upon which g-d
has fixed his gaze before all else created
around you he enwrapped his warm embrace
so that his son was suckled at your breast

He drives. He has to know, it takes days, he doesn’t sleep, doesn’t stop. Goes faster at night when he sees eyes gleaming out at him from the roadside.

And yet finally, It’s a billboard that does it, just a stupid fucking billboard, peeling and weathered, stuck out crooked from a neglected cornfield, and he pulls over because he starts laughing too hard to keep driving.

HELL IS REAL, it reads, with conviction, in uppercase block letters, white against black; and of course across the front someone has inevitably spraypainted the livid diagonal scarlet warning: CROATOAN.

He can’t help it. He watches himself break open, has watched this happen to people before, knows it’s hysteria but there is it anyway, like swallowing down nausea or gasping in fear, something bodies just do that can’t really be avoided. So he gives into it, gets himself out of the car—no one for miles, if the plague ever had been there it’s moved on—barely gets the door shut and then just folds over against it, his forehead smacking painfully hard against the glass window as his mouth presses against the bare crook of his arm, convulsing, opened and biting into skin to muffle the sounds. His shirt sleeve is torn off up high where he’d used it to bandage—bandage someone—someone who immediately didn’t make it. Wasted effort. And his own efforts wasting him.

HELL IS REAL. Hell is real! They had no idea how real. Hell is here, hell is now. He’s been to hell, spent forty years plummeting down through the worst it had to offer and it was nothing, this was infinitely worse and more wrong because this wasn’t supposed to—wasn’t meant to be hell—this was a deliberately planned paradise, and both the gardeners and their caretakers, they’d all conspired, unintentionally, through a series of colossally egotistical, blinded choices, to uproot, to defile, to spoil everything that— 

He catches his breath, reaches to wipe wetness off his face and his hand comes away filthy, streaked with soot. It’s hard to swallow, it’s hard to make his chest stop whatever it’s doing. His arm is dirty where his face rubbed it. He should use one of the bottles of water to wash, probably. Find more water.

Vaguely gray and furry, an animal darts off through the corn and the stalks quiver and rattle behind it. Eventually he’ll need to eat but he can’t think about that, not yet, not when hell is real. Hell is nearby, so proximate it throbs.

Hell is that he’s maybe an hour outside of Lebanon, with Detroit’s ruins behind him. And he is terrified—not of what he will, but of what he might not find there.
Dead Hearts [Archive of Our Own]

Armin dreams of strange things: giant walls that tower fifty metres into the sky, protecting the cities inside from huge, man-eating creatures, and the people that fight them, flying through the air with wires and swords. They wake him up screaming in the middle of the night, reaching for someone who isn’t there. He brushes them off as simple nightmares for the longest time, until one day he realizes that they’re so, so much more complicated than that. And then everything changes.


Past Abuse


Underage Drinking


Teen and up

Personal Views -

This is a very emotional fic, I suggest having some ice cream and tissues on hand while reading it.

Feliz Navidad, Mari!

For my beautiful Mari who fills me up with such ideas and always gets me back on my feet. I present to you Mermaid!Annabeth. Love you, tittle!

Luke used to tell Annabeth stories about the human world. He would tuck her under seaweed blankets before she drifted off to sleep as easily as a child rocked by a gentle current. Though it could carry her away, her tether to the others in her shoal protected all of them and kept her safe. He liked telling her about all of the silly things humans would do, like eating birds and lifting heavy things over and over again to build muscle. Annabeth had little understanding of weight. The sea could carry massive growling creatures that broke through the waves on its shoulders as easily as the sky holding up a cloud. For all she knew, humans were weak things compared to the ocean.

When her ancestors sank beneath the waves after a hundred years of war, humans wept for them. They mourned the loss of their brethren and used magic to forget what had happened to ease the pain, until magic too was forgotten. Cities were born from the ashes - great towering structures of impeccable symmetry and skill, Luke showed her, drawing lines in the sand with his finger - where humans would mill about from sun up to sun down and then they would go into different buildings at night until they started all over again.

“But how do you know?” Annabeth would almost always ask of Luke every night.

“Because,” he said, tilting his head toward her, a glimmer of moonlight in his eye. “I’m your big brother and I’m always right.”

Keep reading


Title: Abyss
Rating: PG13 for language
Words: 2,307
Recipient: @ronaldreindeer/weasleypumpkin
A/N: Happy Holidays, Charlotte!! I share your weakness for Shell Cottage fics, so I wrote you one based on a prompt from the list you suggested: Things you said under the stars and in the grass. I hope you enjoy it!!

Lying awake in the dark, Ron heard the light shuffling of feet on the wooden floors and the rustling of clothes, and he wondered who else was having trouble sleeping tonight. The front door opened, the light on the porch illuminating the threshold for a moment, and Ron knew at once who it was. He’d recognise her everywhere. And now, after everything that had happened, he’d follow her everywhere just to make sure she was safe.

Ron got up from his camp bed and crossed the small living room, trying not to accidentally bump into the others, as his mind raced with questions. What was she doing up this late? What if she was in pain and didn’t want to bother Fleur? Was she having nightmares, like he’d had since they’d arrived here a couple of days ago?

He closed the door firmly behind him and walked after her.


She stopped in her tracks and turned round, waiting for him, so Ron quickened his pace to catch up with her.

‘Is everything okay?’ he asked, checking for any signs of pain on Hermione’s face. She was only looking questioningly at him, though. ‘I saw you leave and I thought… Do you need anything?’

Hermione smiled, her hands fiddling with the ties of her dressing gown.

‘No, I’m fine. I couldn’t sleep and thought I could come out here and watch the sea for a while… see if the quiet helps.’

‘Oh… I’ll go back in, then—I mean, you’d rather be alone—’

‘I wouldn’t!’ Hermione exclaimed as Ron took a step back. ‘You can stay if you want to…’

Ron looked up at her and saw her looking back at him with a slightly worried expression.

‘Do you want to?’ she asked him softly.

Without a word, Ron moved forward and followed her, wherever she went.


They sat on the grass, right before the beach stretched towards the sea. Hermione glanced at Ron’s profile next to her: it was selfish, but she had been hoping he’d be awake too. She hoped… she knew he’d follow her.

She was grateful to have a roof, regular, satisfying meals, the company of familiar faces beyond Harry and Ron, even if it was only for a limited time. At the same time, though, there were moments when she felt as if the place was too crowded and she needed to get away for a while. Hermione also missed having Ron almost for herself.

‘Looks like we’ve got a plan again,’ Ron commented. Griphook had finally given them an answer that day and agreed to help them break into the Lestranges’ vault. They had started planning right away, coming out of the little room only when Fleur called them down for dinner. Hermione didn’t feel the same rush of energy and optimism she’d felt as they planned their break-in at the Ministry of Magic: this time, it felt more dangerous. It made her uneasy to think of it.

‘Yes, but at what cost? I still don’t think it’s right what we’re doing to Griphook.’

‘Come off it, don’t start with that again,’ Ron told her, annoyance creeping into his voice. ‘We are going to give him the bloody sword, aren’t we?’

‘Oh, I don’t know, are we?’ Hermione snapped, scowling at him. ‘We could have told him, we could have been straightforward with him!’

‘He would have refused; you know he’s a snarky little fellow as well as I do!’ Ron said angrily. ‘I’m not saying it just because; goblins aren’t house-elves! Bill’s always told us, not all of them are bad, but they’re always trying to get one over on you and pass it as settling debts. And you can’t possibly ignore how nasty this one is—that comment he made about how the wizarding guards could use an Entrail-Expelling Charm…’

‘I’m not defending just Griphook’s interests!’ Hermione retorted, just as angry. ‘Have you considered that perhaps this isn’t going to benefit us at all? What if he realises what we’re doing? What if he wants to take the sword right after we get the Horcrux?’

‘He won’t, and if he asks for the sword right away, then we tell him it can’t be.’

Hermione glared at him, still unconvinced, and opened her mouth again.

‘Look, can we not talk about Griphook right now?’ Ron cut her off, running a hand roughly over his face. ‘I’ve got a feeling we’ll be spending far more hours with him than I’d like for the rest of our stay here.’

‘Fine,’ she said after some internal struggling. ‘But you know I’d hate to be right.’

Ron laughed.

‘No, you wouldn’t! You’d hate the consequences of being right, but you’d still love to be proven right,’ he said, smiling smugly at her.

‘Shut up, Ron.’

They fell silent as the wind picked up, making Hermione shiver as it came through her too-thin dressing gown. She hugged her knees to keep herself warm.

‘You’re cold,’ Ron stated. ‘Here…’

He started shrugging off his jacket.

‘Don’t, Ron, I’m fine and you’ll be cold then—’

‘I don’t mind—’

Hermione put a hand over his arm to stop him. He looked up at her, one arm already out of the big wind-breaker jacket he seemed to have borrowed from Bill.

‘Perhaps… we could share? So neither of us is cold?’

Ron looked surprised for a moment; then, he silently reached a hand out to drape part of the garment over Hermione’s shoulder. She blushed as she scooted closer, clutching at the lapel. It was silly. The physical distance between them had become shorter and shorter ever since Dumbledore’s funeral, to the point that all her doubts about Ron’s feelings had disappeared. That was until he left, however. She hadn’t felt this close to him in months. Shehadn’t let him get too close.

‘Better?’ he asked. Hermione nodded. ‘Have you had any pain?’

He’d asked her the same thing yesterday. It made her tremble again, but not from the cold. It wasn’t only that he kept showing he cared; it also reminded her of what he’d done for her… while it happened, and after it’d happened. She’d forgiven him before that, but it was only then that she had fully accepted his truth. What he’d said and what he hadn’t.

‘My muscles still ache a bit, like after you’ve done a lot of exercise, but that’s—that’s all.’

‘Are you sure?’ Ron asked her, frowning at her.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Harry said your arms and legs might seize up for a while, and I thought—’

It was her turn to frown.

‘Why did Harry say that?’

‘I asked him,’ Ron said simply. ‘About how it’d been for him. Have they?’

Hermione chose to shrug instead. She wouldn’t tell him. He didn’t need to worry more than he already was.

‘I’m fine, Ron. I’ll be fine. What about you? Why…?’ She took a breath, bracing herself to ask him something she hadn’t been able to figure out on her own. Looking down for confirmation, she saw it: his hands, resting on his folded knees, still looked awfully bruised and cut, even if the blood had clotted. ‘Why haven’t you let Fleur heal your hands?’

Ron’s expression changed from concerned to caught, and he tucked his hands under his legs, out of view.

‘There weren’t any broken bones.’

‘I’m sure it still hurt. Have you got your wand? Do you want me to fix them for you?’ Hermione offered.

‘No, it’s fine,’ he mumbled, and Hermione had the feeling she wasn’t the only one hiding things from the other. Although in Ron’s case, she didn’t know what was there to hide.

‘All right, if you say so.’ Hermione sighed. ‘You couldn’t sleep, either?’

Ron seemed surprised again.

‘I mean, since you saw me coming here.’

‘Oh. Yeah. I s’ppose it’s all the night watches… it’s made me more alert. Or I think so. I dunno,’ Ron finished, prodding at the grass with his toe.

Hermione stared at him, his profile barely illuminated under the moonlight. He looked tired. Not the obvious tired that came from lack of sleep; he looked the kind of deeply tired she felt. But she knew he wouldn’t say it, because she also knew he was still repenting, trying to atone for what he’d done. Showing them he didn’t regret coming back. So she said it for both.

‘I wish it was over.’


He didn’t take his eyes from the shore, where the low waves came to die in clumps of foam, so she looked at him some more, contemplating…

‘Lie down.’

‘What? Why?’ Ron asked, turning sharply towards her and looking almost scandalized.

‘Because I want to lie down and we’re sharing a jacket, if you haven’t noticed,’ Hermione explained. ‘Come on, I’ll show you something.’

Ron leaned back, indirectly pulling her down to the ground with him, and she felt her face heating up.

‘I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, but the night sky in the cities is very different from the sky you see here, or at The Burrow or Hogwarts,’ Hermione said, focusing her eyes on the velvety black expanse above.


‘Yes. I grew up in a city, and the sky is always a little bit orange or purple, from the lights. It looks almost dirty,’ she explained. ‘When I was younger, my parents and I went camping to… to the Forest of Dean. My dad and I lay down on the ground and he told me to look up. I don’t think I’d really seen the sky like that before.

‘It felt mighty, all that dark space… after a while, it feels like the earth has turned upside down and you’re staring down into the abyss.’

She fixed her eyes on the twinkling dots above, contrasting against the bottomless black, until she could almost believe it. It had been her favourite optical illusion ever since that camping trip, but it was both a beautiful and a scary game.

‘I fear I could fall into it,’ Hermione said quietly, an oppressing sensation bearing down on her chest. She felt like she could hardly breathe, the air passing slow and heavy through her nose.

Hermione felt a warm, gentle weight on her and, looking down, she saw Ron’s arm wrapping around her stomach, his long fingers curling on her side. She turned her head to look at him, her racing heart making her feel dizzier than she already was. The way he was facing her, she doubted he’d even looked up at all.

‘I wouldn’t let you,’ he said. It wasn’t a passionate speech; he didn’t look like the hero in a novel, bright-eyed and face screwed in fervent admiration. He said it the way he’d made every promise to her and Harry: with ease, with confidence, straight-faced and bare of any joking. Promises that, to the best of his abilities, he’d carried out. She’d told herself once she wouldn’t open her heart to any more promises from him, not until she was sure, not until he’d showed her, again, that he meant to keep them. But now she would, because he had.

She blinked away the daze of her thoughts, still staring at him. Her fingers let go of the jacket and stretched down, tentatively brushing Ron’s arm, then resting atop the faint swirling scars on his skin. She thought she felt him shiver very lightly next to her.

‘If the world’s upside down, we’re both going to fall anyway, though,’ she said.

‘Perhaps,’ Ron said, shrugging. ‘Or we can try to sit up and make it right again, can’t we?’

The simplicity of a solution she knew and forgot as she got lost in the moment made her laugh, the first time she heard that sound coming from her in a long time, and the dizziness, the shortness of breath, the heaviness dissipated as the earth returned to its original position and they were, once again, not looking down into an abyss but up to the sky, gravity tying them securely to the ground. It could be that they were both talking about more than an optical illusion involving their present physical position, but somehow, Hermione thought the solution still applied.

‘You want to get up?’ Ron asked her, the ghost of a smile curving his mouth. She took a deep, calming breath and let it out.

‘Not yet.’

Hermione turned slightly on her side, resting her head on his shoulder, and his fingers moved further around her back to hold her.

‘Griphook is foul,’ Ron said, ‘but he’s the best we’ve got.’

‘So you’re going to stop calling him foul?’ Hermione asked him, hopeful. He snorted.

‘Yeah, but only because I don’t fancy him making wizard pie out of me when I’m asleep.’

Hermione laughed in spite of herself. She couldn’t see his face, but his voice sounded serious again when he spoke.

‘Not telling him about the sword is the best we’ve got, too.’

She sighed.

‘Truce?’ Hermione offered.


‘I still don’t like it one bit.’

‘I know, but it’s a compromise,’ Ron said with a yawn. ‘See, like here. We’re sharing a jacket. If we don’t compromise and get up at the same time, we won’t be able to put the world the right way up again.’

‘I suppose,’ she said with some wonder at Ron’s analogies, finally feeling like she could fall asleep. If only they could stay out there, on the grass, together…

But the world was upside down, and they had to keep trying to get up, to make it right.

And perhaps one day, when they did, they would be able to hold each other like this and say what they really wanted to say, and the abyss would be just the sky again.

The signs as alternate universes II
  • Aries: A world where people are randomized video game characters, and when they die they reincarnate into another random video game character.
  • Taurus: A world where people live in their favorite anime/TV show/movie/whatever else you can think of that's related.
  • Gemini: A world where people can sing exactly like one famous singer, but one only.
  • Cancer: A world where you can read the mind of only one person of your choice, though other people can also read your mind.
  • Leo: A world where people can change their age to any age when they have their birthday, but they can't repeat an age number. (I don't think this was too understandable, so here's an example: You're 20, it's your 21st birthday and you now decide to be 16, you are 16 all year, and in your next birthday you can be any age except 16, and so on...)
  • Virgo: A world where people can create a specific element of the periodic table based on their sign combination (Sun, Moon, Rising, etc.)
  • Libra: A world where people can have any hair, eye, skin, and blood color.
  • Scorpio: A world where people can literally sell their memories, thoughts, dreams, etc.
  • Sagittarius: A world with floating islands, underwater cities, over 9000 continents, where rain goes from the floor to the sky (instead of falling normally), where the sky changes color every day, *insert more cool sh*t here*...
  • Capricorn: A world where mirrors teleport you to other random mirrors all over the world.
  • Aquarius: A world where people can switch their nationalities, knowledge, physical abilities, birthdays, etc. with each other.
  • Pisces: A world where people can defy the laws of gravity.
<3 Eremin Week <3

FINALLY! I am so excited for Eremin week it's one of many favorite OTPS! Since I’m not very talented at writing and drawing, I decided to show my love by recommending some fics for all ya! 

Finished Fics: 

We Were Kings by seasideimprovion:

Armin’s life is a tide coming in fast: bullies, loneliness, a secret he’ll never tell, and thoughts of getting the hell out keeping him afloat. It just takes one chance meeting with a dark-haired boy that has him sucked out into the ocean, with no choice but to sink or swim. [12 chapters]

Shrinking Violets by phollie (laronuille):                                        

Eren kisses him again, kisses his little giggling mouth and his flower-pink face in quick little pecks, and people on the streets don’t stare because they’re just children and children are supposed to love each other before they grow old and forget how to. [1 chapter]

Armin’s Ass in Gym Shorts by Remmy -AoT (Remberance):                                        

The tale of how Eren Jaeger found out he was gay. [1 chapter]

Solstice by reunionwillcome:  

Eren and Mikasa, orphaned siblings with no-one but each other, have spent years in crappy foster home after crappy foster home. When they’re sent to the fancy Arlert house for the summer, Eren is convinced he’ll have a bad time. But he’s in for a surprise when he meets the kindly Mr. Arlert and his sweet grandson, Armin, who is brighter than the stars themselves. Slowly, they become friends, and they find themselves slowly falling for each other.
It’s just too bad Eren can’t stay forever. [1 chapter]

Frilly Daydreams J_senpai:

Armin’s attempts at earning more money invoke unexpected reactions from Eren. [1 chapter]

Honestly by phollie (laronuille):

They’re clumsy at this, their movements frantic and unrehearsed, but Armin doesn’t care; if this is to be the last time they do this – if they are to die tomorrow, or the next day, or the next – then he’ll be damned if he doesn’t make this worth it. [1 chapter]

A Thousand Years by jakee9424                                      

Armin remembers key points in his life with the man he loves most, Eren. [1 chapter]

Papercuts by shipping_queen:                                  

Reading books gets you papercuts, and being friends with Eren gets you a lot of band-aids. [1 chapter]

Tighten Up by ClockworkCourier:                                      

Eren was torn between bashing his own head into his desk or writing ‘I LOVE YOU’ on a piece of paper and smashing Armin’s head into that. [1 chapter]

Caretaker by Almerst:      

Eren is soft and warm to the touch. Or at least, Armin likes to think so; he couldn’t say for sure. But he knows the habits of animals, has grown up watching them, reading of them in books. Their behaviors, their ways of adapting to an ever changing world.

The animal backed into the corner, wounded and deposited right on death’s doorstep, is the strongest. Its drive to stay alive is what keeps it fighting, instincts set on attack in order to survive.

That’s where humanity is now, backed into its dying corner and ready to lash out at last.

But then there’s Eren, who has more than that. Beyond instincts and drive, he has a burning anger, a ceaseless need for revenge. No matter how Armin watches, it keeps Eren at arm’s length from everyone.

Armin suspects it’s something that Eren can’t turn off. [1 chapter]

Their Promise by InsiderKiwi:  Armin and Eren fulfill a promise they made to each other as kids.[1 chapter]

Unfairytale by Tox:          

Once upon a time, two boys shared a damaging and enduring love. It was told over the years and fated to be repeated. [1 chapter]

Finally Made It:      

Finally, at long last! Eren has made it past the walls and reached the ocean! But, sadly, Armin couldn’t make it… [2 chapters]

Mario Kart Kisses by Tsunhimesama:                                  

Wherein two cute dorks by the names of Eren Jaeger and Armin Arlert are having a slumber party. Lots of cute, some video game action, and somebody loses a bet. [1 chapter]

Not Finished: 

Rather Cliche by RetroRabbit:            

High School AU. Armin has his hands full dealing with bullies and tutoring the new transfer student, Eren Jaeger. [10 chapters/ ?]

Slowly Dancing in a Burning Room by well_hello_bright_eyes:        

Armin Arlert and Eren Yeager had always been two peas in a pod, even as Eren rose in popularity in highschool. And along with all of the other girls, Armin fell for his best friend but is too scared to tell him. When he does tell him, their relationship changes forever, from Senior year until the very end. But through everything, Armin wouldn’t change a thing. [11 chapters/ ?]

Feels So Scary Getting Old d3anstiel:            

As Armin’s junior year of high school begins, he finds himself facing the breaking point of his anxiety. Doing nothing to lessen his stress is the fact that he’s incredibly, disgustingly in love with the best friend who has climbed through his bedroom window every night since they were in the sixth grade. [7 chapters/ ?]

Dead Hearts thehistorygeek:        

Armin dreams of strange things: giant walls that tower fifty metres into the sky, protecting the cities inside from huge, man-eating creatures, and the people that fight them, flying through the air with wires and swords. They wake him up screaming in the middle of the night, reaching for someone who isn’t there. He brushes them off as simple nightmares for the longest time, until one day he realizes that they’re so, so much more complicated than that. And then everything changes. [ 10 chapters/ ?] 

Crowns for Kings; Kisses for Princesses by Tsunhisesama:        

Armin Arlert just started his first year at University, rooming with his best friend Eren and being helped around campus by his boyfriend Jean. Armin’s life begins to take directions he never expected and he finally gets to come to terms with his haunting past and all the feelings he’s buried deep. Lots of angst, lots of laughs, and definitely lots of cute dorks. [4 chapters/ ?]

To Be Or Not To Be by Shaunathin93:        

Armin, the president of Trost High School’s theater department, has a life full of bullying and fear. He has his life turned upside down, however, when a certain boy auditions for the part of Hamlet. [8 chapters/ ?]

Well I hope I ruined your life  you enjoy. All of these stories are focused mainly on Eremin ( some side pairs included) also ratings may vary and I’m pretty sure you just have to copy and paste to get the stories (sorry I didn’t and still don't  know how to make a link). All of them are on Archive of Our Own. I didn’t write anything all of the credit goes to the authors! Let me know if you have any suggestions  Happy Reading :)