#pour some self-projection onto the mean bully girl

[emsylcatac]

not to be bitter but why does Chloe in fandom have like 10x more analysis that analyze her behaviour and how shes secretly a great person, compared to people trying to understand Marinette's behaviour in s4 (or even in general?) which instead had people giving her way more scrutiny😭😭? i like both characters but maybe I'm just confused on why the protagonist gets less effort in analyzing her and less empathy/sympathy, compared to the girl that acted nice like 4 times.

Don't worry lots of people analyse Marinette's character in S4 and in the show but it's to say that "she was an asshole to chat noir in season 4 😠😠 nd she caused many akumas!! more than chloè 😠😠 and she's a bitch to chloè she didnt give miraculous to her!! grrrr 😠"

Joke aside (that's not a joke actually rip) and I hate that you're right, there are loooots of reasons I'm afraid (none of them are good though). I would go over each one of them but I think we've said it a lot in the past already and I believe that you too anon knows the answer to this 😔😫

(something that I'm wondering though, is why people are waaayyy madder and intense about Chloé not getting the development they think she deserves (because they're impatient and like being mad but shhh), compared to people hoping, say, Nino would get more onscreen development 🫣 like, we still haven't seen his parents while he seemed introduced as one of the main secondary character since S1, even some white blue haired dude took more importance than him as of late, but weeeeirdly enough that doesn't bother people as much as "Chloé loosing the bee miraculous and being done dirty by the writers uwuwuwuwuwu". I really wonder why hmmmmmmmmm 🤔🤔🤔🤪)

[whump-town]

Crawl Home

I thought to myself Hannah why are you so mean to Hotch? Hmm, well, I’m a self-destructive little bastard and he’s a self-destructive big bastard so I just think it’s fun to project onto him. Then I considered -- shit, why not take it out on Emily too? So, I did. 

Going to college hadn’t been nearly as difficult as leaving her soul, every good part of Emily Prentiss, behind her in Virginia. But there the pieces of her could be protected and here, in Europe working for Clyde, she can’t be sure she can offer the human parts of her that condolence. Then again, leaving for college had been leaving her mother. Freedom, at the time, she hadn’t known to its full advantage. Leaving Virginia is leaving the only family she’s ever known. The safety of girl’s nights, Dave’s expensive taste in bourbon, and the knowledge that if she had nowhere she still had them. Aaron’s couch where Jack calls her his favorite aunt and Spencer’s library so extensive she’ll never reach the bottom.

Emily is safer there with them.

The case is grueling, ripping apart wounds she thought healed and scarred over. It’s enough to make her consider calling Hotch. She gets so close, finger hovering just over her screen until she remembers that it’s probably three in the morning over there and she’ll probably wake him up. Stealing from him what little sleep he can manage and so she doesn’t call him despite the promise she made him just a few months ago. Looking into the vulnerability he’d laid out between them, needing her to be something unlike him, someone not consumed by this damned job that will take everything.

She took his hand -- rough and damp with his anxiety -- and said the words she knew he wanted to hear. Knowing that stepping foot on that plane, leaving them, was giving the job everything. It’s falling into the trap that nearly killed him and she’d watched it happen and still, she couldn’t stop it from happening to her.

Instead, she texts Garcia for a picture of Sergio and sends Dave a picture of her lunch so he can pride her on actually taking the time to at least try and eat. The food sets a little easier when he sends her some corny-ass text with an emoji he doesn’t really understand. To top it all off, Derek sends her a selfie from the bullpen where he’s actively sitting on Spencer and pinning him still for the photo. It solidifies her, the boost she needed.

See? she asks her reflection, she didn’t need to call Hotch. No need to admit defeat just yet. (and when he sends her a picture of Jack wearing the sweater she got him with the added detail that Hotch is wearing his matching one, she cries in her bathtub and reminds herself this is for the best). So this is what her freshman year roommate met by homesick…

“Clyde,” she announces, avoiding touching him as she slides past him. “After this case, I’m retiring. I’m going to go home and sleep for three days and then you expect my resignation. I’m going to go live in the Alps and hope a bear of some variation eats me after I freeze to death.” She says all this while she pours herself a cup of coffee. This is certainly a situation she’d mirrored with the likes of Hotch, Dave, Derek, and even Reid over the years. Where Clyde meets her with a raised eyebrow Hotch would have handed her his coffee and offered her a dimpled half-grin of agreeance. Dave would have taken her out for lunch. Derek would have hit her shoulder, stolen her coffee, and told her “toughen up, princess, it’s nearly Friday”.

Clyde takes a long pull from his own mug, drawing his eyebrows tight as the bitter, not properly steeped mess of his tea hits his tongue hotter than he anticipated. With a grimace he clicks his tongue, “you’ve got the vacation days.” He takes her by surprise, she wants him so desperately to be someone else. Reid’s bashful, not quite sure what he should say, face or Dave coming to sit on the edge of her desk until she caves and goes for lunch. But Clyde is Clyde is Clyde and he offers her a solution none of the others would have mentioned.

She does have time building up. Fall is rapidly approaching in Virginia and she could get home to see Henry and Jack before school. Spoil them with trinkets to show off to their friends. It’s her favorite season there and it would make great circumstances to steal one of Derek’s sweatshirts and escape with new recipes from Dave to try out. Enough time for so many girl’s nights -- her skin needs the reprieve and Garcia’s hand-picked face masks and JJ’s fantastic taste in wine. She needs to spend too many hours on Hotch’s office couch, listen to his deep baritone start to slur with Dave’s bourbon. To feel Dave’s crushing hug when they pour themselves into a cab and, like an idiot every time, the three of them bunch up in the backseat with her in the middle.

“I can see that look in your eye, Emily.” Clyde points right at her -- again, why does she expect him to be like them and just not profile her -- and he smiles with a shake of his head. “You’re going to go back to them, aren’t you?”

She takes her mug, solutes him with it, and walks away. Here, the rules aren’t the same. There is no Hotch standing over her shoulder, sending a glare in every direction, as the permanent reminder that there is a rule against inter-team profiling. But, that’s the catch. They’re not like her over here. Clyde has no secrets and she’s a field of undiscovered bodies in shallow graves. It doesn’t take a lot to go tripping over her bones.

As she sits herself down behind her desk, she spots the flicker of movement she’s learned to associate with her youngest agent and she knows exactly what the other woman is bringing. She finds herself sighing, feeling that bone-tired Hotch always looked (oh God, she hopes she doesn’t look like that). Why are there so many twisted fuckers in the world? She just wants to take a moment to enjoy her coffee.

“What is it?”

The poor woman coming into her office is taken aback but not entirely thrown off. “We found him.”

There goes her fucking coffee.

“Where?”

She’s going to hug Reid for as long as he lets her and she’s going bully him like he’s her baby brother until his face is red. When she sees Jennifer Jareau she’s going to force herself not to cry and she already knows Henry will be as tall as her by now. He just got glasses -- how do they grow up so fast? She’ll laugh, unabashed and loudly when Derek lifts her off her feet. Squeeze Garcia just as tight as Garcia squeezes her. Let Dave kiss her cheeks and press her face into his jacket when he pulls her in. She’ll snag a hug from Hotch when she knows they aren’t looking and quickly wipe her tear away when he whispers that he missed her.

“Be careful,” Clyde advises around a mouthful of cookie. “Don’t need any more paperwork than I already have.”

She rolls her eyes because it’s funny when he says it…

“Prentiss!” The agents here don’t call her Emily. “Ok, ok, okay--” The shot comes suddenly, unexpectedly and it hits her and for a blinding moment, she feels nothing. Searing, like the brand Ian pressed into her skin and then consuming so quickly that all she feels is hot, intense pain all across her body. “Hold still.”

There’s a blonde woman leaning into her wound, failing despite her desperation to keep Emily’s blood inside her. She looks like JJ -- or maybe the sky is just dark enough and the beams at just the right angle or the blood is pumping so quickly from Emily’s body that her mind is starved. Maybe there isn’t a blonde woman, she’s a hallucination, but it doesn’t matter. Emily just wants to go home.

“Hey, hey!”

Derek. It sounds just like him, his voice and roughly the hand that shakes her shoulder grips at her flesh. She feels weightless, suspended by her hips as she falls backward. The haze of blood loss and shock shutting down her functions. Tears sting her eyes and she sees the people hovering over her -- the distinct lack of Reid’s nervous voice, the hand holding onto hers is neither JJ nor Derek’s -- and she knows she’s not going home.

“Stay with me, Prentiss.”

Will they come here she wonders. If this is it, will they bring her home one last time? She doesn’t want to be buried in Europe. She wants Virginia and the fall and home. She wants to go home.

“Hey, hey--”

She feels the cold sting of a hand across her cheeks but her eyes have sunk. Home.

She just wanted to go home.

[ba-responds]

Catharsis (Villain!Deku x Fem!Reader) Chapter Four

A/n: Guess who got bronchitis and can’t fucking breathe, but also isn’t home because she took a train 4 hours away, while sick, to visit her friend for a week? This dumb bitch. Anyways here’s chapter four, I guess.

Summary: An unexpected death of a loved one can lead to a sudden influx of emotions. Those same emotions can become repressed, as denial and disbelief comes into play. In this time, one would seek a means of catharsis, a release from those strong, repressed emotions. But what would you do if that means of catharsis, the same release you sought so hard for, becomes addicting? To the extent, that you feel you can not live without it? What if it can’t live without you? **WARNING: This story MAY contain; bullying, suicide, depression, torture, manipulation, mentions of sexual assault, and MORE! You have been warned.

Masterlist

Prologue II Chpt 1 II Chpt 2 II Chpt 3 II Chpt 4

Chapter Four: Mangled Legs and Psionic Explosions

U.A. seems much bigger when your standing in front of it, wondering where your classroom is. Fellow students poured into the school, prompting you to follow them. You looked around curiously, wandering the halls in an attempt to search for your class. Not long after, you saw the 1-A door sign, making you sigh in relief. While there was still 10 minutes before class was supposed to begin, you were happy to be able to sit down, fatigue already taking over your body. Last night was filled with nerves, as you wondered how your first day of class would begin, thus you only got 3 hours of sleep. However, that wasn’t much of a change from your usual sleeping habits, where you barely got 4 hours of sleep every night.

Finally opening the large door, you glanced around the room. It was half full, with a variety of different types of people sitting in their seats, most talking quietly to each other. Walking to the podium in front of the class, you looked at the seating chart, scanning it for your name. Spotting it, your lips turned down in a frown, growling lowly when your realized that your seat was right behind Bakugo’s. Rolling your eyes, you turned to your seat, sitting in it as the door banged open. Bakugo stood there confidently, not bothering to take in the class before he strolled to the podium, eyeing the seating chart. After seeing where his desk is, his eyes swept around the class in distaste. When he spotted you, he bared his teeth, growling as he stomped over to you.

His dramatic entrance had caught the attention of the rest in class, who watched worriedly as he stomped his way over towards you. You tilted your head, raising an eyebrow at him almost tauntingly.

“What the fuck are you doing here, dumb bitch?!” He yelled, small explosions popping out of his hands. You looked at him for a moment, trying to decide if it was worth replying as you sized him up, before deciding that it wasn’t. So, instead, you turned your head away, looking out of the window. Bakugo roared in rage as you ignored him, his hand raising to grab your collar.

“Fuck it.”

 A red haired boy shot up, ready to try to help the situation, but Bakugo suddenly tumbled backwards when you swiftly punched him dead in the center of his chest.

“I’m not here to play your fucking games, Bakugo,” You hissed, settling back into your seat with a calming breath, gritting your teeth.  The class gasped in shock at the power your one punch held, the redhead blinking dumbfounded, before continuing forward, stepping in front of Bakugo just as he was about to pounce at you. 

“Whoa dude, calm down. You don’t want to get in trouble on the first day, do you?” The redhead said, holding out his hand as if that would stop Bakugo. Bakugo clicked his tongue, sending you a glare before flopping into his desk in front of you. The redhead glanced between the two of you, before sending you a bright smile, holding out his hand.

“My name is Eijiro Kirishima,” He introduced as you shook his hand.

“(Y/n) (L/n), but please just call me (Y/n),” You muttered, slightly taken aback at his wide, childlike grin. The sight of it made your heart clench slightly, memories of Izuku smiling like that coming to the forefront of your mind. You forced a smile, slightly quirking your head to the side slightly, forcing yourself to seem amused. It wasn’t hard to do, since you’ve been doing it for so long it became almost instinct. You’re happy expression seemed to attract some of the other students, who were still eyeing the situation curiously. A blunette stepped forward, moving his arm wildly at Bakugo, who had his feet propped up on his desk. 

You talked to the boy named Kirishima for a few more minutes, before the door opening caught your attention. A brunette walked in nervously, with a small smile as she took in the room. The blue haired boy, who you’ve overheard name was Iida, suddenly cut himself off, stopping his lecturing to walk over to the girl.

“Ah, I see you are fine after the Zero-pointer crushed you. I apologize for not spotting you in time to help,” He said pretty loudly, thus, most of the class listened in on the conversation. The brunette blushed deeply at the attention, her rosy cheeks turning even darker.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine. Both of my legs were completely mangled, but a few kisses from Recovery Girl fixed that. A-and it’s fine, there was so much happening, that it was kind of expected that I wouldn’t be noticed in time…” She trailed off, looking shyly at the ground.

You frowned, remembering overhearing that someone was crushed by the Zero-point robot while in your battle center, but during that time you were a few blocks away and didn’t see what happened. Looking back at Kirishima, he turned away from the girl, looking down as if he felt guilty. 

“He must have witnessed it, and not have been able to do anything to save her,” 

“If you’re here to make friends, get out,” A husky voice said, shifting the attention of the class to the yellow sleeping bag that stood at the door. Unwrapping himself, the scruffy looking man looked to the class before speaking again.

“I’m Shoto Aizawa, your homeroom teacher,” He introduced, before producing a pile of clothes, holding the uniform up. “Put these on, and head outside.”

The girls gleefully talked in the locker room, deciding to get to know each other since there were so few females in the class. While making light conversation, your eyes drifted over to the girl named Uraraka. Her legs seemed heavily scarred, probably from the entrance exam, but she didn’t seem to be self-conscious about it, joyfully engaging in a seemingly interesting conversation with Mina. Your gaze lingered for a moment, before looking away, finishing getting dressed by putting on the U.A. gym uniform’s jacket

Once outside, you continued the light conversation you were having with Hagakure, who was extremely excited about whatever activities the class would be participating in. With a slight smile on your face, you stood along with the rest of your classmates, waiting for Aizawa to begin. After a few minutes, when everyone was accounted for, Aizawa explained what he planned for today, earning a lot of complaints from everyone. After shutting down the complaints, he turned his attention to Bakugo.

“You scored first on the entrance exam…” He uttered out, continuing on to asking Bakugo a few questions, then told Bakugo to throw a ball with his quirk. Bakugo stepped up to the circle, muttering to himself for a second before hurling the ball with a loud ‘Die!’. The class gasped in awe at the distance, while you turned your head away from the explosive boy, still not completely over what happened between the two of you, not even 30 minutes ago.

Aizawa went on to explain the hardships of real life, and casually mentioning that who ever came in last place would be expelled. Your eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, before a determined face replaced it, intent on not getting last place.

As the Quirk Apprehension came closer to an end, it was your turn to pitch the baseball. Walking closer to the circle you were to stand in, you stripped off the jacket, flexing your arms as you caught the ball Aizawa threw to you.

“Whoa, she’s ripped!” The purple-ball haired boy drooled, repeatedly tapping the leg of a boy you recalled being named Kaminari. Kaminari nodded wildly, his jaw slightly dropped as well. 

“That’s so fucking hot,” he muttered. You shot him a disgusted glare, before taking a deep breath, closing your eyes and activating your quirk. Light crept up under your skin in thin lines, traveling up your arms, and under your clothes, the light emitting a faint glow from under your clothes. Snapping your eyes open, you reeled back, launching the ball into the air; waiting a moment with your arm still outstretched, before sending a controlled psionic explosion after it, sending the ball even further with a loud ‘Crack!’. The explosion caused your arm to jerk back, making you wince as your shoulder became a little sore.

“983 meters,” Aizawa said, as he turned his phone for the class to see. You nodded, grabbing your discarded jacket off the floor, tossing it over your shoulder as you made it back to your classmates, most who congratulated you on your high score. You smiled politely, thanking everyone who congratulated you. Your gaze shifted over to the fuming blonde, feeling a smirk creep onto your face at his distressed look.

It was finally time for everyone to see their overall scores, and most of all, who would be expelled. Aizawa talked even more about how everyone was ranked from best to worst.

“And now, it’s time to see your scores.” As he said those words, he pressed a button, a projection of the scores suddenly appearing in front of the class. You quickly scanned the names, finding yourself at 9th place. Letting out a small sigh of relief, your attention was drawn towards the sound of a loud cry.

The purple ball haired kid cried loudly, falling to his knees. Your eyes snapped back to the projection, finding the name Mineta Minoru in the last place spot. Assuming that was him, you gave him a sympathetic look, as Aizawa began to speak.

“Mineta Minoru, you have been expelled from U.A.. Pack your bags and go home,”

The class gasped in shock at the bluntness of his voice, Momo covering her mouth with her hand in disbelief.

“Y-You can’t be serious!” she called out, her eyes wide as she glanced towards the crying, shorter boy. Aizawa rubbed his eyes boredly, before looking at her.

“Of course I am. I’m not going to waste my time on someone who has no potential. Now that we’re done here, there are handouts on the curriculum in class, I expect you to look them over,” He muttered before walking away. The class remained frozen in their spots, only being able to watch in pity as Mineta stood up, running away while sobbing. 

You awkwardly looked at the people near you, all who looked around at each other, as if asking the same question,

“Did that really just happen?”

It was a few hours after classes had ended, and Aizawa slowly made his way towards the meeting room, where the rest of the U.A. teachers were. He carried his sleeping bag over his shoulder, using his free hand to open the door. All of the seats were filled, except one next to Yamada Hizashi aka Present Mic, his self-proclaimed best friend. Aizawa plopped down in his seat, before sliding a file over towards Principal Nezu.

“This kid is expelled,” He muttered simply, before sitting back in his seat, waiting for the official meeting to begin. Principal Nezu quickly leafed through the file before putting it off to the side.

“Okay!” Nezu squeaked out, “Today’s meeting is about a villain, who as of recent, has been causing trouble in the surrounding areas. While this doesn’t particularly involve the school, the police wanted us to discuss this as heroes, plus some interesting suspicions the police have on the villain,”

Nezu clicked a button on a remote that sat in front of him, right next to his cup of tea. In the middle of the conference table, a projection appeared. It showed a display of destroyed buildings, before the image shifted to a dark figure standing in the middle of a crater size ditch. From the grainy photo, it seemed as if the figure wore a white dress shirt, with a black dress tie, black suit vest, and black pants. While the figure’s face was covered in what looked to be a purple-black shadow, turfs of dark green hair poked out, along with bright glowing green eyes; and behind him, long, pointed spear-like tentacles emerged from the ground under him.

“While this villain had first been spotted over a year ago, it has only been recently that it seems like this person has came back, and even stronger than before. The reason is still unknown, as well as much about the villain themselves. However, the police has come to suspect this young man,” 

The grainy picture of the figure shrunk, another picture popping up next to it. It showed the smiling, young face of a boy who seemed to be no older than a junior high kid. The kid had a bright smile, his wild green hair and freckles prominent in the photo.

“This is Izuku Midoriya. Almost two years ago, he was thought to have commited suicide; a body had even been found and identified. Though, this information hasn’t been released to the public, the body the police found, soon turned up missing after Inko Midoriya confirmed the bloated body as her son. Because of a mix up, it was first thought to have been mistakenly cremated, due to ignorance of a morgue tech. As such, the last police chief attempted to cover this up to avoid a lawsuit being filed, and convinced Ms. Midoriya to have a closed-casket funeral, thus not being able to see the body after confirming it. In replace of Izuku Midoriya’s body, a John Doe was buried,” Nezu explained, his usual cheery tone, being toned down.

“Absolutely disgusting,” The Pro-hero Midnight muttered, shaking her head, feeling pain for the poor women who unknowingly buried the body of a stranger in place of her son.

“Furthermore, it is believed that the entire incident was a planned scheme to have Izuku Midoriya announced dead, so he’d have an easy path into villain-hood,” Nezu continued to explain, before being cut off by Vlad King.

“What does this have to do with us?” He asked gruffly. Nezu, raised his hand dismissively, before continuing.

“We, as heros, should look out for this boy. He is dangerous, and is believed to have killed more than 100 people in a single attack. Not to mention that he is the same age as our high school students, so it may be possible for him to temporarily pass as one of our own students. While this is unlikely, it is still a possibility. The police are currently looking further into Midoriya’s previous life, but don’t want to officially announce him as the villain, while there is still not much evidence. Telling us was just a precaution, as the police may later need our help.” 

The room was silent for a few moments, as everyone stared at the innocent looking face of Izuku Midoriya. Aizawa’s eyes shifted back and forth between the innocent face, to the dark, slightly blurry picture. Taking a deep breathe, he shook his head, tearing his eyes away from the projection, muttering to himself.

“Villains are getting younger and younger these days.”

[borisbubbles]

Eurovision 2010s: 15 - 11

15. Ieva Zasimauskaitė - “When we’re old” Lithuania 2018

[2018 Review here]

~wen wir owld HOOOOOOOOOOOO~

So close to the endgame it’s time to open all of the emotional registers. Much like Hovi, I did not expect to love Ieva as much as I do, however unlike Hovi I had already fully embraced Ieva and “When we’re old” long before rehearsals started.

And for good reason because Ieva fucking disarms me every time without fail. She herself is of course a hilarious, relatably weirdo indie girl, this time in the guise of a Born Again Hindu who ~FELT A COSMIC PRESENCE~ on the stage with her. 😍 Telling the true story of how she overcame depression by falling in love with her hubby. Flanked by holograms that project Ieva’s life dream: to be happy and grow old with the love of her life. All my hopeless romantic triggers are activated by this song. ALL OF THEM.

People are generally divided on Ieva’s voice, but um hello welcome to BorisBubbles. I ranked Nina Kralic and Jana Burcheska hellow-high. I LOVE Ieva’s husky, nasal, ovine, falsetto whine of a voice. It makes “When we’re old” for me. Ieva injects so much vulnerability and authenticity into a song that whenever she performs it, all I can do is sit in silence, tears welling up in my eyes, bleating along with the WHAOHHHHHs. Time truly stands still during “When we’re old” and I’m speechless.

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14. Conchita Wurst - “Rise like a phoenix” Austria 2014

You can be damn’ sure the highest ranked powerballad on this list is “Rise like a phoenix”. It isn’t as much as a song as it is an INSTITUTION. 

Which is why, symbollically, “Phoenix” is a very important winner. It’s a plight for overcoming hate, for overcoming bullying, from being yourself in the face and of adversity and rising from the ashes reborn, reinvented, reinvigorated. Its presentation is provocative, yet secondary, putting vocals and song on the foreground. It is rooted in the political zeitgeist of its winners, like most modern winners, obviously, 

however, ask yourself this:

Would “Phoenix” have won if it hadn’t been a great performance of a great song? 

I don’t think it would have. Take away the powerful composition and leave just the politically correct message, and you get Bilal Hassani. Take away the beard and you have, well, a really good song bond theme by a talented vocalist, that probably would’ve finished top ten, if not top five in most years. 

It’s easy to get distracted by Tom’s stick because a “Bearded drag queen” provides a lot of cognitive dissonance, which I personally love because it forces me to think, keeping my mind sharp. The use of a gimmick does NOT cheapen the talent on display here, however. Tom’s delivery of the song is flawless, hitting every note, delivering both ‘feminine’ nuturing comfort and ‘masculine’ strength to his glorious song. He even throws in some small nuggets of fierceness, providing levity, reminding us of Conchita’s drag queen roots

The act is cut from the same professional cloth; it is maybe a tad provocative, but at it’s core it remains dignified and classy, maintaining a moral high ground that instantly sheds a bad light on any hater. You may pull her down, but she’s gonna FLYYYYY.

Conchita Wurst is the best winner of this decade, period. No winning performance is as ironclad, vocally, musically or stagingwise as hers. No other winner has shown as much raw performance talent as she has. No winner has been able to make such a statement while at their core maintaining a high-quality musical standard. No winner has been such a champion of those whose voices are trampled for being different. To use Conchita’s own words after she won: “WE ARE UNITY. AND *WE* ARE UNSTOPPABLE.” 

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13. Zlata Ognevich - “Gravity” Ukraine 2013

This is the last female fronted act from 2013, you know what that means: EPIC ENTRANCE TIME 😍

What a beautiful dreamscape. I felt bad ranking Elina Nechayeva in a fairly low 39th place, but honestly, “Gravity” vibes very similarly and does the same things a lot better: Breathtakingly regal woman, a mirage of near-divine grace, stunning visual effects... SIGN ME UP ALREADY. At the core we of course find Zlata, the winner of the Best Human Award in 2013. Zlata’s backstage bits were rife with personality facts that instantly endeared her to me. A praraphrased selection from her infinitely quotable interview gold: ”I PRACTICE BIG VOICE BY HOLDING BREATH UNDERWATER”; “I COME FROM PLACE IT’S CALLED CRIMEA, IS LARGE ::reads from online dictionary:: PEN...EEN...SYOO..LA(?) WITH BIG MOUNTAIN AND LARGE SEA ^_^”; “I LOVE UNICORN IS FAVOURITE ANIMAL”. GODDESS. 😍

Fortunately her overpoweringly loud, yet disarmingly weird personality is also omnipresent during her big screen performance. “Gravity” is a mirage of Disney mojo and Zlata absolutely fucking hits it like A SHTRIKE OF DUNDAR

I don’t think I’ve ever listened to a song that is legit quotable at every interval? There is not a single line in “Gravity” that doesn’t bring out the bedroom karaoke: “IMMA LIIIKA BADDERFLYYYYY.” “NOTHING COMES FROM PRIDE, -*HAYLALE*” “NOW I FEEL NO FEEEEE-AAAAAAR.“

And I’m not even done because Gravity ALSO features an excellent backing choir (the male backing vocalist is incredible). It’s just a perfect example of world music, conjuring three minutes of pure, unicorn-endorsed magic. IMMA LIIIKE A BADDERFLYYYYY. 🦋

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12. Juliana Pasha - “It’s all about you” Albania 2010

YUARDAWAN 😀 YUGIMMEDATSAMTINANEED 😀 ITZMI 😀 ENDAMFOLIN 😀

We are at #12, which means we’re at that Olympian milestone where every entity ranked is a fucking supernatural force. In Juliana’s case a forced of pure, unfiltered, streechy harpism. 😍 It is so weird to think that she was the first of Albania’s now iconic ‘Shrieking Boss Hag” archetype because it feels like a alliance older than time, sealed and styled in cuneiform onto a shard of Sumerian pottery, blessed by the Annunaki and then embedded into the muddy banks of the Euphrates. 

Anyway, Juliana earned my HEART once she greeted us with her uncanny-valleyesque diction and cheshire-catesque leering, all YUARDAWAN! and proceeded to throw everything, both vocally and facialexpressionly, into the mix, in ascending degrees of deafening loudness. 😍

With a criminally addictive electronic schlager song too boot! One which, like Zlata features an INCREDIBLE supporting cast in a bangin’ gospel choir, as well as a very generous dollop of ❤ ELECTRONIC VIOLA REALNESS ❤

One of the fave musicians of NaziPope, btw. “It’s all about you” is such a Triumpf of the Shrill. 😍

Anyway, this high quality list of ingredients make for a very replayable ride that never spoils or grows stale, no matter how often I listen to it. Which is actually a lot. I’ve looped “It’s all about you” at countless occasions since 2010, making it perhaps the song on this list that I have to the MOST often. (Or second most because there IS a song I still have to rank that may challenge Juliana for that title.) If that ain’t a hallmark for quality, I don’t know what is. 

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11. Koza Mostra ft. Agathonas Iakovidis - “Alcohol is free” Greece 2013

Has life been letting you down? Have you been struck by a financial crisis? Do you no longer know how to continue living. Fear not, because :cracks knuckles: we are about to embark on a MASTERCLASS of unabashed drunken REVELRY:

Um a small disclaimer though. This song has a really really, really, REALLY irresponsible title. DO NOT at any circumstance use alcohol as a coping mechanism, engage in drunk driving or other activities under influence that you may life to regret later, if you live to regret it later. Also don’t drink if you’re underage. Also also, alcohol can cause obesity and cardio-vascular arrest. and cancer, possibly. Drink, but do so RESPONSIBLY. 

HOWEVER, what if this song is... a PSA???😈 An Anti-Crisis PSA that is, lol. A group of folk hipsters literally PARTYING AWAY the misery of the financial crisis in a delightfully self-deprecating fashion is just the pinacle of fun for me and Koza Mostra fucking ROLL with it. Watching them dart out in all wind directions, interacting with each other gives me LIFE.

It’s exactly that sort of industriousness which sets “Alcohol is free” apart from other party songs. There is a LOT of randomness going on in the background and it gives you ZERO time to process all of it, making every rewatch an easter egg hunt.

This approach to staging usually doesn’t work, but here it is actually very intelligent and I’ll explain why: The act places a lot of focus on Agathonas (which it should because he’s the lead singer despite his featured status), but by the same token offers constant distraction by all the Koza Mostra shenanigans in the background...  In other words, it’s an act that forces your attention away from the main event by confusing your senses, requesting all of you concentration keep up with everything that’s going on... which is actually a brilliantly accurate simulation of how 'being drunk’ works.

(btw if you listen closely you can hear the sound of Agathonas tapping his skull lol <3)

So the next time you listen to this song, pour yourself a drink (ONE drink!) sit back and embark on a Waldo-esque hunt to see how many beautiful nuggets you can find hidden in that splendid act, as the upbeat sirtaki madness fills your head with cloudy thoughts. As far as I’m concerned, Koza Mostra have WON the Eurovision Fun Contest. 

EVERYONE RISE AND APPLAUD THE  10 BEST ENTRIES IN THIS DECADE:

From now on, I’ll only include maximum 2 songs per update :o

And in this update we finally say goodbye to Greece, Albania, Ukraine, Austria and Lithuania. Read my thoughts on them, below:

LITHUANIA

Lithuania was hands down the worst country in the 00s and look at their chart now. They are slowly getting their shit together and it shows. Keep on going, darlings!!

AUSTRIA

God Austria are so boring. At least they occasionally provide us with a great entry here or there, but they’re so inconsistent in their entertainment. 2 great - 6 okay - 1 terrible is NOT a great ratio by any means. 

UKRAINE

ALBANIA

Albania are very hit-or-miss, but I really like their presence in Eurovision actually. Like Georgia they entries are so left-field that they are always *interesting* even when they’re not good. Except “Fairytale”. Fuck “Fairytale”.

GREECE

Fuck this decade was ROUGH for Greece. They are a shattered nation and if you think this chart is bad, let me remind you that their best result in the past five contests is 19th place. Same in fact, as San Marino’s highest and lower than the highest placements of Albania, Montenegro, Slovenia, UK, Ireland, North Macedonia,...

[withlovekth]

Darkroom (Part Two)

Part One

Pairing: Taehyung x Reader Genre: artist! taehyung, best friend! jimin, college au, fluff, smut, light angst Contains: swearing, self-toxicity Word Count: 2.3k

English? Do I major in English? All I really want to do is write for fun. Maybe get a book published or something. I’m not trying to be a teacher. And I don’t want to write more essays than I already need to. I guess English is off the list.

“Y/N...”

Nursing? Do I want to be a nurse? Blood doesn’t make me squeamish. I think I can stick a needle into someone. But can I take care of people? I can’t really take care of myself. And I’m bad at science anyway.

“Hey Y/N.”

Psychology? That’s a big field. But what would I do with it? I don’t want to be a school counselor or anything. Maybe I should talk to a counselor to figure out what I should major in.

“Y/N!”

Is someone calling me? I don’t think so. No one ever needs me anyway. Just let me fade away.

“Hey!”

I feel someone grab me by the shoulder. I sit up in my seat, yanking out the earbud from my right ear.

“Were you asleep with that loud ass music blaring in your ears?” Taehyung looks down at me.

“Oh, Taehyung.” I take the left earbud out and pause my music.

“Kim Taehyung, the one and only.” He smiles.

“I wasn’t sleeping.” I frown. “I was thinking.”

“About?” He places his messenger bag on the table and takes the seat next to me.

We were alone in the classroom. Everyone was developing pictures in the darkroom and our professor was in his office.

“Stuff.” I lie my head back onto the table.

Taehyung rummages through his bag. “Were you thinking about me?” He quickly looks at me to see how I’d react.

“I’d rather be thinking about you.” I grin at him.

He gasps. “Wah, thanks!”

I roll my eyes at him. “Anyways. What are you looking for?”

He pulls out a folder and slides it to me. “These.”

I open it up. It was filled with photos of Jimin.

“Taehyung, these look great! When did you take them?” I cycle through the black and white photos of Jimin in different poses and places.

“The earliest photos are from like two weeks ago.”

“Are these for the storytelling assignment?”

“Yes and no. I need to choose which ones to use for the project and find an order for them to see if they even tell a story. And some of them are just for my own personal portfolio.”

“These are so good.” I’m legitimately amazed. The camera work plus the way he chose to develop everything works so well for each photo.

“Ah. Thanks.” He bows his head in embarrassment.

I silently continue to flip through the photos. My favourite one is probably the one of Jimin chilling outside of his balcony with an unlit cigarette in his mouth, most likely shot from Taehyung’s balcony. The cigarette was probably Taehyung’s too, but with sitting this close to him, it doesn’t smell like Taehyung smokes. He actually smells pretty good.

There was a photo of Jimin standing outside his house. It doesn’t seem like he actually knows his picture is being taken. He’s laughing while talking to a girl whose back is turned to the camera.

“Is that...” I flip to the next photo. It’s me. “When did you take this?” I look good in the photo, so it doesn’t bother me too much that he took my picture without my knowledge. But I have to admit it was a bit creepy.

“I don’t really remember. Maybe sometime last week?”

“Mm.”

There weren’t anymore photos of me until I reach the end. The last photo is the one from the day I met him. The one where I’m holding Jimin’s hand to my face.

“You guys look good together,” he leans closer to me to get a better look at the picture.

“You think so?” I laugh.

“Are you guys more than just best friend?” We make eye contact. There was something so loaded about that question.

“No, no.” I wave him off. “We’ve been best friends since like middle school. We tried to date once. When we first met. But we decided we’d be better off as friends. We were like thirteen anyway. Young and dumb.”

“Ah,” he nods his head. “I see.”

I nod my head. “Mhm.”

There was an awkward silence.

He coughs. “Were you going to go into the darkroom later?”

“Nah. Not today. I was just going to chill here then leave.”

“I wasn’t planning on to either. I just peaked into the room to see who was here and I found you.”

“Wanna go do something? I’m done with class for the day.” I ask him out before remembering Jimin’s warning.

“Yeah sure.” His stomach growls. “I’m starving. I didn’t get to eat breakfast.” He gathers his things.

“I never eat breakfast. It’s either eat breakfast or always be late to my morning classes.”

We get up and leave the room.

“I think it’d be better if you just stop taking morning classes. I can’t believe our professor never calls you out for being asleep.”

“He said himself he’s not a morning person and doesn’t get why the school schedules him for morning classes. I think he understands.”

We make our way to Taehyung’s car.

“Do you drive?” He asks as we get into his car.

“Yeah, but I didn’t drive today. I didn’t want to lose my street parking. My neighbors are assholes.”

Taehyung backs out of the spot and begins to drive.

“I feel it.” He nods his head.

“What. Are you referring to Jimin?” I giggle.

He chuckles. “Chim Chim can be so mean sometimes.”

“I totally feel that.” I lean against the window.

“I wonder why he kept you away from me for so long.”

I watch him as he nonchalantly drives with his left hand on the wheel and the right on the stick, despite driving an automatic car. Something about that made him look kinda cool.

“Maybe he wants me all for himself,” I joke.

His lips form a small smile. “Funny. That’s what I was thinking.”

Just what else are you thinking, Taehyung?

I can hear it now, Jimin scolding me for hanging out alone with Taehyung. I just want to see for myself how bad this guy Jimin says he can be.

“How long have you known about me?” I question, looking out the window.

I can feel him looking at me. “I guess since you guys ended up in the same classes in seventh grade. He told me about that time in P.E. where the guys in your class were making fun of him for being a dancer and you defended him. I thought you were so cool and he did too.”

“It was nothing. Kids can be so cruel.” I laugh.

“I heard one of the kids called him the f-slur and you pulled him by the collar and decked him in the face so fast, he really didn’t know what was coming to him. Was it worth getting suspended the first week of school?”

“I got a few bruises but it totally worth it.” I put up an ok-hand sign. “Jimin put in a good word for me anyway so I was only suspended for the rest of the week. The other kids were suspended longer for bullying.”

“I really wanted to meet you after hearing that story. I never got the chance to. It felt like coincidence that we kept missing each other. Well, until high school happened and it felt like Jimin was purposely timing it so that we don’t ever meet.” His stomach growls again. “Do you want to eat anywhere specifically? I think we still have leftovers from dinner last night that I can make into an omelette if you wanna come over,” he changes the subject.

“Yeah we can go to your place. I’m always down to save money.”

The second awkward silence of the day rolls in.

“So,” I start. “What makes you think Jimin doesn’t want us seeing each other?”

“We’re good friends. But sometimes I get the feeling that he thinks I’m a bad person.”

Looks like you’re not dumb, Kim Taehyung.

“I don’t think you’re a bad person.”

“Of course you don’t Y/N. We just met,” he puts it out there so flatly.

“Are you saying you are a bad person?” I raise an eyebrow at him.

“I don’t mean it that way.” He pulls up into his driveway.

It’s strange to see Jimin’s house from this perspective, through Taehyung’s yard. This weird guilt forms over me. I try my best to calm down when I realize Jimin’s car isn’t in the driveway. What he doesn’t know, won’t get him upset with me.

We walk through the front door.

“My family isn’t home by the way. I hope that’s okay with you?”

We take off our shoes at the doorway and walk into the house. Taehyung’s place looks likes a mirrored version of Jimin’s house except for the different furniture. I strangely feel right at home.

We walk through a short hallway towards the kitchen. On the wall was a familiar framed photo. Jimin was smiling next to a shy boy, partially hiding behind a bouquet of flowers.

“Oh my God. Jimin has the same exact photo hanging in his house.” I point at him. “You? You’re the kid in the photo?”

“Yeah? Why do you sound so excited?”

I feel my face get warm from embarrassment. “The first time I visited Jimin was in the eighth grade. I asked about the kid in the photo. Jimin questioned why I was asking and I told him I thought he was cute. Jimin just brushed it off and said it was just a friend and the conversation ended there.”

Taehyung looks at the photo. “That was in seventh grade after one of Jimin’s dance performances. Me and my parents surprised him after and that’s when we took the picture. Then our families went to get some dinner to celebrate.”

“Maybe that’s why...”

“He didn’t want us to meet,” he finishes my sentence. His jaw drops. “You called me cute back then and maybe he got jealous.”

I let out a genuine surprised gasp. “That’s exactly what I was thinking! But is Jimin isn’t like that. He doesn’t really get jealous... Does he?”

“I mean he’d always argue with his brother because he wanted something his brother had. But I mean, they’re brothers and siblings fight all the time. Does that count?”

We go into the kitchen and he prepares to make us breakfast. I sit at the dining table.

“I don’t think so... That sounds kind of a dumb thing to be jealous about though. I mean I call him cute all the time.”

“Yeah, you’re right. That is kinda dumb. There’s probably more to it.” I watch him cut up some leftover steak from the fridge. He cracks a couple eggs into a bowl and scrambles them, adding some salt, pepper, and cheese. He pours the mixture into a preheated pan. “Maybe we should confront him about it.”

“Maybe...”

Maybe. But I know Jimin. He should have a good reason to not trust Taehyung around me. Was he lying about the art thing? Would Taehyung really use me and throw me away when he’s done with me? Jimin would never lie about anything like that.

“Hey, what are you thinking about now, daydreamer?” Taehyung places a plated omelette in front of me.

“Can we go to your room?”

“Woah. Let me dine you first.” He takes a bite of his food. “Moving a little too fast there, aren’t we?”

I feel my face get hot after realizing what I just said. “I-I didn’t mean it like that—”

“I know,” he chuckles. “I know you’re not like that. Jimin really has told me a lot about you.”

“That’s comforting that he talks so highly of me.” I take a fork full of food. “Okay, what the fuck Kim Taehyung. An a amazing photographer? And a great cook? That’s not fair, you can’t have multiple good traits.”

He covers his smile behind his hand. “Thanks. I try.”

We finish up our breakfast. I help him with the dishes.

“Has Jimin really not mention anything about me?” He asks while drying a plate.

I pause to think. “He has mentioned you a couple times, never by name but by ‘my neighbor.’ I don’t really remember what he said, but don’t worry, they were all good things... Unless he was talking about another neighbor.”

“I’m the only one he talks to in this neighborhood. I guess it kinda makes me glad he talks about me. We’ve been friends for so long. He wasn’t always so cold towards me. We used to have sleepovers all the time as kids. We’d stay up way past our bedtime to talk about everything.”

We walk up stairs to his room.

“Make yourself at home, since it seems like you already know my home.” He sits down at his desk. “You can take a seat on my bed.”

With his permission, I do as he says. “Of course I do, it’s exactly like Jimin’s house.”

I look around his room. It looks nothing like Jimin’s. Different works of art hang all over the painted grey walls. None of them look too personal, unlike Jimin’s walls which are full of polaroids of and art made by friends, and posters of his interests accompanied by clear stringed lights that go all around his room. Jimin’s room feels cozy while Taehyung’s room feels more like an art studio.

“So why did you want to come up here?” He swivels around in his chair.

“I just wanted to see how different your room was compared to Jimin’s.” I’m mostly honest. I wanted to see for myself these art pieces Jimin was talking about.

“Speaking of which, it looks like he’s home.” He smiles and waves.

I turn my head towards the balcony to lock eyes with Jimin. He walks over to his window and shuts the curtains.

Side Note: I never know when is the right time to update but I finally posted this even if I literally had this written out after posting part one. Leave me any feedback so I can be inspired to keep updating!

[psyriaart]

The Lazy Cat Themes: family/romance, post-reveal, a whole bunch of fluff Rating: General Audience/ PG Pairing: Marinette/Adrien, mentions of Alya/Nino Word Count: 1.8K Summary: The daily life of a married Marinette Agreste-Dupain-Cheng

For Miraculous Ladybug Secret Santa 2017 @mlsecretsanta  Merry Christmas @chatnono I really hope you enjoy your gift!!!  

The Lazy Cat is having it’s 2nd annual BOGO sale tomorrow X00X/X0/XX with superstar Adrien Agreste as the frontman for it’s giveaway. There will also be live music from my boo, DJ B.Shell so come on over and get some coffee!

The Lady Blog, now more of Alya’s Adventure blog, posted for thousands to read. Marinette smiled at the headline on her laptop screen and quickly grab her phone to send her thanks. It was a great surprise to see such a quirky yet heartwarming article so early in the morning. She rolled over toward Adrien’s side of their monstrous bed to show him the article but stopped.

“Oh Kitty...,” she chuckled softly.

From the pile of various pillows stuffed around his head, she could make out his hair sticking out from under the blankets. He had been sick for a couple of days trying to get better for the big event tomorrow. Thankfully, the cluster of blanket and pillows, as comfortable as they were, were also warm enough to help him sweat whatever the sickness was, off.

It was a miracle that Marinette hadn’t gotten it herself, course she made sure to be extra careful while she was taking care of him. Heaven knows that they didn’t need to both be out of commission.

She got out from her side of the bed that she quarantined and walked out to the kitchen. Humming a quiet tune to herself, she heated up the kettle to pour into his herbal tea. There were some side projects that Marinette knew she had to finish before the big event and now seemed like the perfect time. One of the projects was a surprise for her husband. Adrien had worked so hard for the last couple months to the point of getting bedridden sick. It was all for the sake of the Agreste Cafe Line, she knew, but he deserved a break.

By the time the kettle was ready and the tea had steeped for a bit, she had already made the proper arrangements to Gabriel Agreste’s Fashion Walk coming up within the next few weeks, and booked some flights to various islands to try out their coffee beans. She also booked an island in-between for their spontaneous mini vacation. Though she wasn’t in charge of the Agreste’s new branch of coffee shops and products, she still tried her best to support her husband’s work. Gabriel had both been pleasantly happy that she had some fashion sense to help the company and grateful that she was bring Adrien back into his arms.

It was kept a secret that Gabriel Agreste was Hawkmoth, the evil that had been terrorizing Paris for years. Only the immediate family of Adrien and Marinette as well as the miraculous holders knew that. It was thanks to the formation of the entire miraculous crew that finally stopped him.

So consumed in his resurrection of his late wife, Gabriel gave away to the dangerous desire that corrupted his heart. Years of research and of denial made him obsessed and thus vulnerable to the evil side of the miraculous powers. Every miraculous could be used for good or bad. It was unfortunate that Gabriel believed his actions to be good when in reality they were, in fact, toxic.

After the whole ordeal and the interrogation from good old LadyBug and Chat Noir, Gabriel confessed that he had no control over himself during the past 10 years. He explained that it was like he was a prisoner in his own body, only seeing and feeling but never able to take control. He felt possessed, like someone else was there taking the reigns. The only idea Master Fu could come up with was that the miraculous’, which held both yin and yang energy, were susceptible to evil. Since Gabriel’s wish was selfish and toxic, the dark energy consumed him throughout the years and drove him into pure evil insanity.

He gratefully thanked the young teens for helping him escape and, though the young heroes were hesitant, they did not report him in. The general public was shown and told that whoever had been Hawkmoth had been destroyed and that Paris was safe again.

Despite their rough relationship, Gabriel had been trying hard to show Adrien how good of a father he could be. He was extra grateful to Marinette for helping him build that relationship and was especially accommodating with their wedding a few years after. Adrien had been reluctant at first, he had felt bitter and untrusting, but with his friends coaxing him and Marinette soothing his anxieties he slowly opened up and had begun to forgive. It helped that Gabriel allowed him to broaden the Agreste line through coffee shops.

“Yeah Alya, thanks again for that post. You really do know how to work your magic,” Marinette said to her headset.

“I’m a journalist now, so I got to turn that skill into a hobby somehow if I don’t want to think of it as. And if that means hyping for my girl then so be it. You can just pay me back by making me an aunt” Alya replied from the other line, to which Marinette laughed barely keeping her voice down.

“You are already pregnant Mrs. Cesaire-Lahiffe, do you really need another one?” she joked and pulled up her laptop.

“There’s a difference, Marinette Agreste-Dupain-Cheng!” Marinette shook her head in amusement and continued writing up her email.

“Speaking of children, how’s Tiki and Plagg handling their sleepover?” She asked hoping to change the subject and also curious herself. All the heroes had spent a week after Hawkmoth’s defeat mulling over whether they should reveal themselves, and Alya was the one who pushed that they each deserved to know the true face of their comrades.

“Plagg is being his sassy self, but Tiki is refraining him from bullying everyone else.” Alya replied in amusement. “I’m sure he just misses Adrien like the that kitty he is.” Marinette smiled at that. She thanked Alya once more and promised to see them tomorrow at the Lazy Cat.

Right on time Marinette’s phone dinged, signalling the medicinal tea to be done brewing. Finishing up the last of her work, Marinette grabbed a tray of pastries and the mug of tea to bring to the room only to find the mug missing from the counter.

“You seemed to have lost your touch, bugaboo” a familiar voice chimed behind her. “Just because you’re married now doesn’t mean that you have get all soft on me.” Marinette turned around to see her bed head of a husband sipping his drink casually.

“If you weren’t recovering from being so sickly, I’d show you just how soft I can be,” Marinette crossed her arm and smirked right back. There was a soft chuckle as Adrien took another gulp.

“Trust me, My Lady, I know just how soft you can be,” he winked and gave Marinette a kiss on the cheek. She shook her head at his returning innuendo and turned around. “What’s Father been having you do now? Don’t you have today off?” After moving Marinette’s silky black hair to the side, Adrien settled his chin on top of her shoulders. He was glad she kept her hair long only because he loved to bat at it with his hands every now and then. Leaning against him, Marinette smiled contently and began typing.

“Don’t worry, I’m almost done and then you can have me all to yourself.” Marinette replied. Adrien simply watched her work while continuing to finish his drink. He was halfway done when he started to get antsy. He kissed her neck and blew at her ears only for her to continue with her work. Adrien frowned and placed his cup down. But just as quickly, Marinette snapped the laptop shut before Adrien got anymore pouty. She felt his arms circle around her waist as he cuddled to her. “You need to finish your tea, Adrien.” She chastised lightly to which he grunted.

“It just makes me sleepy and I haven’t hung out with you yet.” he whined and nuzzled his face to her neck. Marinette sighed and reached one hand to pat his head and placed the other on his arms around her. She swears that he was just a child cat sometimes, and thought that Alya was practically already an aunt to this catman child. She mentally snorted at that. But as goofy and cat-like as he was, Marinette knew she wouldn’t change a thing about him.

“I love you.” She turned around in his arms and hugged him. If he was Chat Noir, his tail would be wagging in sheer happiness.

“No matter how many times you tell me that, it will never cease to amaze me,” he replied and hugged her tighter. “I love you.” he kissed her forehead and began rocking her to a silent melody only their hearts knew the beat to.

“Alya wrote about the shop’s annual opening tomorrow. I thanked her for us already,” Adrien hummed and continued to hold her. “She said that she wanted us to give her babies-” Adrien froze.

“You’re pregnant!?”

Marinette laughed and shook her head.

“Why are you working so much right now?! Sit down! We need to call everyone! Who-” Marinette booped his lips closed.

“We’re still on the pill and we’re not ready yet. You know how Alya is,” Marinette looked at Adrien’s flustered face and laughed again.

After shaking off that world changing possibility, Adrien took in the sight of his beautiful wife in her red and white pajamas laughing into the morning sun. He smiled and thanked God for this blessing.

“You’re right. We still have our own adventures we need to go on before we can add more to the party.” He grinned widely. “Alya can be pregnant for the both of us.” Marinette nodded in agreement and let him push her to their bedroom.

“Kitty, stop whatever you’re thinking. That face always means you’re up to something,” Marinette warned only to be picked up and quickly tossed onto their colossal bed. The cloud-like cushion softened her fall and she barely let out a screech before Adrien pinned her with various pillows and blankets.

“You have to take responsibility and take me to sleep, especially since you forced me to drink that thing.” He explained while piling even more cushion around them.

“That thing is going to help you get through tomorrow,” Marinette replied. She could already tell that he was getting a lot better by his energy, but one couldn't be too careful.

“Such a dutiful wife, just how lucky am I to have you,” Adrien stated and tucked himself right next to her. “You can almost say, I’ve got a ladybug by my side!” he laughed at Marinette’s groan.

“That was just plain horrible,” Marinette teased. “Worst yet in fact.” Adrien just laughed and pulled her in closer. It wasn’t long before she heard the soft even breathing coming from his lips. She gave him a quick kiss and settled towards him before closing her eyes. She’d give in this time and take a little cat nap with him. They could afford to be a bit lazy today.

[tonystark-is-daddy-af-blog]

The Less I Know the Better

Superfamily Fic (Steve/Tony, Peter/Wade) NC-17/smut

After the death of Aunt May, 15- year old Peter Parker is left in the custody of Tony Stark. One night, while exploring the Avenger’s facility, he discovers a secret affair between Tony Stark and Steve Rogers. If keeping the affair a secret wasn’t stressful enough, Peter begins to struggle with his own sexuality when he realizes his attraction for his new tutor...Wade Wilson....

Part (I/?): The Less I know the Better

"Hey, Peter!" Happy greeted Peter Parker more enthusiastically than usual as the teenage boy entered the car.  

"How've you been, Happy?" Peter replied as he pushed his bags aside to squeeze into the crowded backseat. He pulled his phone out of his jacket, placed an earbud in his ear and rested his head back against the cushion of the car seat. The rain outside had left him drenched and he could feel the water dripping down from his hair onto his face and neck.

"I've been good, nasty weather today though," Happy looked through the rear view mirror back at Peter, his eyes becoming more serious. "I'm sorry to hear about your aunt."

Peter's throat tightened. "It's okay." He fought back tears before looking out the window into the rainy streets of Queens. "Doctors did all that they could for her."

Happy gave a sad nod as his only reply before starting the car.

The rain continued on as they sped down the streets in silence. Happy turned on the radio, some 80's hair metal was playing, and Peter took that as his queue that the conversation was over.  He placed the other earbud in and opened up spotify on his phone. As the music played, he leaned back and closed his eyes.

Peter's life had changed so much in the past two years. It was just too much for a 15 year old boy to handle, he was surprised he wasn't locked up in an asylum somewhere, wrapped up in a snug straight jacket. His life had completely spiraled out of control. It all started with being bit by a radioactive spider on a class field trip to the bio-engineering laboratory at New York State. Somehow, that nasty little creature escaped its aquarium and made its way up Peter's pant leg. Peter shuttered as he remembered the situation. The bite wasn't even the worst part of this situation... waking up to the type of puberty you don't exactly learn about in high school health class....that was pretty horrifying. But in the end it worked out, Peter was now an inch taller, 20 pounds of muscle heavier, a little hairier....and he could climbs walls and stuff... no big deal.  

Second thing that changed his life: meeting Tony Stark. Before meeting Mr. Stark, Peter had taken it upon himself to fight small crime in Queens with his new powers. Of course, he wore a costume to protect his identity (typical superhero stuff). If his Aunt were to have found out about his nightly outings, his crime fighting days would have been over. I guess that's something I don't have to worry about anymore, Peter thought to himself. Anyway, his costume pretty much sucked. He used his Aunt's sewing machine to stitch together some red fabrics  and stuck some goggles on his face. His web-shooters and the webs themselves took months to perfect, but it allowed him to swing across the city and get to the crime scene as fast as possible. As of last year, Mr. Stark had given him a brand new suit, with the latest state-of-the-art tech, threw him into a world with bigger and badder villains, introduced him to a league of superhuman heroes and the rest is history...

The third event that changed Peter's life: the death of Aunt May. His sweet Aunt May. His best friend and the closest person he had to a parent. She had raised him since he was 5 years old, when his parents had passed away in a terrible car accident. She always wiped away his tears, always gave him girl advice and the pep talks he needed when he struggled with the bullies at school. She always brought life into their household, singing in the kitchen to old Italian songs as she made dinner. Sometimes (often-times) she burned dinner, but Peter would not have changed anything for the world. He could eat that burnt chicken for the rest of his life if it meant he could have Aunt May back. She always made sure Peter had the best in life. After her funeral, it was reveled to him that she had a college fund saved for him with a couple thousand dollars. Even when they had nothing, she was self sacrificing and placed some money in savings for him. She worked days as a receptionist in a clinic and nights as a waitress at a diner. She did it all for him.

Aneurysm. That's what killed her. Well that's what the doctors say killed her. Peter came home late that night, he had been hunting down a convenient store robber. He found her on the bathroom floor, toothpaste still on her chin and toothbrush in hand. She had taken her glasses off for the night and was in a Hello Kitty nightgown. He held her lifeless body, guilt for coming home late washing over him. Fear that this might have been an act of revenge against him. All he could do was blame himself and cry until EMS showed up at the door.

Peter cried until there was no tears left to cry. He screamed until his voice was hoarse. He sat alone in that empty apartment, waiting and hoping that this was a bad dream and that Aunt May would walk through those doors again. But she never did.

After two weeks, social services came to Peter's house, explaining to him that foster care might be his only option since he was only 15. Peter couldn't imagine anything worse...he spiraled into a deeper depression.  

Tony caught wind of the situation when Peter began ignoring his calls and when Peter began skipping school. Tony followed the tracking device in Peter's suit to New York's Home for Boys, where he found Peter waiting to be transferred into foster care.

This is the reason why Peter Park was currently sitting in a car driving towards the Avenger's facility up north, away from the city. Tony had paid off the social services so that he could adopt Peter. Of course, Tony didn't meet any of the qualifications to be a competent parent...he was a bachelor, a drunk, his home was blown up more than 3 times... but money runs the world, and Tony gets what he wants.

All Peter wanted was to have his life back.

---

"Here we are," Peter had fallen asleep on the two hour drive. "I'll help you with your bags." Happy began unloading all of Peter's luggage as Peter tried to process where they were. The rain had stopped, and the sun was setting over a few green hills that surrounded the place. It felt weird being away from the city. It was too quiet, too much fresh air, too much open skies.

They both walked into the building, bags in hand. Nothing seemed too unfamiliar, Peter had been there only a couple months prior anyway. Happy led Peter to the elevator, pressing the button for the top floor. He began explaining the codes for entering the different rooms in the building such as the rec room, the pool room, the kitchen, the movie room, etc. Peter tried to keep up but it was just too many numbers, he doubted he would be leaving his room much anyway.

The elevator opened to a large luxurious room. "This is the common area," Happy explained, urging Peter to walk forward. There was a large white sofa that circled around the middle of the room, big enough to fit at least 15 people. A projector was projecting a basketball game on a big white wall across the sofa. There was a bar on one side of the room, with shelf after shelf of expensive liquor. The columns in the room emitted a dull blue light, that then shifted to a dull red, and then a dull green. There were arcade games along the other side of the room, along with a couple of fuss ball tables. There was a large window facing out to the open sky, it was night time now and it was littered with stars (something you don't see in the city). "Wow, this is amazing!" Peter commented as he entered the room.

"Yup, you have access to this 24/7," Tony Stark came up behind them, breaking Peter out of his trance. "But don't get any ideas about the bar, that's for grown ups only." Tony gave Peter a pat on the shoulder and walked down to the sofa.

"Oh, hey Mr. Stark," Peter placed his bag on the floor and walked over to the sofa too. "Thank you for taking me in, it's been rough with all the stuff with Aunt--"

Tony put a hand up, "Don't thank me, kid," Tony grabbed a scotch glass that was waiting for him on the glass coffee table. He took a large gulp. "Take a seat." Peter nodded and sat down next to Tony.

"You need me for anything else, Tony?" Happy asked from across the room.

"No, I think we got it from here Happy," Tony took another sip. "Thanks for everything, see you tomorrow!"

"Bye Happy!" Peter waved goodbye as Happy got back in the elevator.

"Ok, now listen," Tony put the glass down and sat back on the sofa. "Just because you're living here, doesn't mean I want you being an Avenger just yet, got it?"

Peter could smell the alcohol on Tony's breath. "Yes, Mr. Stark," Peter nervously fumbled with his thumbs. "May I ask why you changed your mind, I mean, like a couple of months ago, you wanted me to be an Avenger?"

"I just feel like you need time to heal from everything," Tony finished off his glass, making sure the last drop dripped into his mouth. "I want you to focus on your school work, you've been slacking."

Peter groaned and sat back against the sofa too. "Where am I even going to school? Are there schools out here in the middle of nowhere?"

"You're right, I didn't want the Avengers facility to be near any schools in case, you know..." Tony made his way off the couch and started walking towards the bar. "What I mean is, we don't want schools getting destroyed by bad guys just cause they're after us." Peter turned to look towards the bar as Tony poured a drink. "I'm thinking... home-school for you?"

"No!" Peter couldn't think of anything worse than being stuck there with people way older than him and who barely even know him. "I really want to keep going to my school in Queens."

"It's a two hour drive there, every morning," Tony sighed. "Can you drive yet?"

"I have my permit," Peter blushed. "I'm only 15, sir. I turn 16 in two months though."

Tony rubbed his forehead in frustration. "Well there's only what, like 5 weeks of school left for you, right?"

"Yeah..." Peter raised an eyebrow.

"How about, I pay for home-schooling for these next few weeks and starting in the fall, we'll figure out this school situation, maybe get you a license," Tony took a sip of his drink. "...maybe a new car?"

As much as he wanted his old life back, a new car sounded awesome and it was only a couple of weeks of sacrifice. "Okay, I can do that," Peter smirked in agreement. He scratched the back of his neck before speaking again. "Can I fly my friends out here sometimes...maybe....?"

Tony rolled his eyes, "Sure, but make sure you ask me first...always." Tony downed the drink.

"No problem, Mr. Stark," Peter turned back towards the baseball game on the wall.

Tony walked up behind Peter and placed a hand on the teenager's shoulder. "I'm sorry about your Aunt May, I truly am." Peter didn't turn around. "I lost my parents when I was really young too, I know the pain."

"It's okay," Peter felt the tears starting to form in the corner of his eyes. "Thanks for letting me stay here, Mr. Stark."

"No problem, kid, you're always welcomed here." It was the most touchy-feely Tony had ever been with Peter, and he figured it was probably because the billionaire was a bit drunk. Overall, Peter accepted that it came from a genuine place. "Did Happy show you where your room is?"

---

The room was huge compared to his room back in Queens. The bed was king-sized, with white sheets and tons of pillows. He had a clear desk with a clear computer chair and a stark-computer. There was a white dresser and a walk in closet. Tony pulled out a remote control. "This button is for the projector if you want to watch TV, we have 800 channels, and this button is for the AC/heater system, this one is for lights, this one is for automatic bed-making, and this one is for Jarvis, or you can just say his name."

"I can use Jarvis?"

"Yes, Mr. Parker?" Jarvis' voice came on in the room.

"No, Jarvis, we don't need you right now." Tony answered back.

"As you say, Sir."

"So cool!" Peter exclaimed.

"Yeah kid, it's all yours, don't abuse your power though." Tony gave him a stern look, "...and this button at the bottom is for emergencies only, it calls in all the avengers, so don't push it by accident."

"Got it."

"Ok then, rooms all yours. You know where the kitchen is in case you get hungry. Let me-- no actually -- let Jarvis know if you need anything," Tony gave a lazy smile, "I'm going to bed, see you in the morning."

"See ya." Peter threw himself against the big, comfy bed as Tony left. Maybe staying here wasn't all too bad. He kicked off his shoes, shimmied out of his pants, damp shirt and hoodie and crawled under the blankets. The bed felt like heaven. "Jarvis?"

"Yes, Mr. Parker."

"Play some modest mouse."

--

Peter woke up. He looked around the dark room, remembering where he was. It was still dark outside, he could see through the window in his room. He glanced at his phone. 1:41 am. He had been asleep for about 3 hours. The music was still playing in his room.

"Jarvis?"

"Yes, Mr. Parker."

"Music off, please."

Peter felt his stomach growl. In the midst of moving in, he had forgotten to eat. He got out of bed, stumbling in the dark. "Jarvis, lights please." The lights came on and Peter found his duffel bag, digging through it to find a pair of star wars pajama bottoms and an old tank top. He quietly opened his bedroom door and slipped out into the hallway. Most of the building had large windows that allowed some moonlight in, but other than that, it was quiet and dark throughout. He wondered how many other avengers were currently there sleeping.

He tiptoed into the kitchen, luckily remembering the 4 digit code, and made his way to the giant fridge. He shivered at the cold. He searched around the shelves. There was left over take-out, pizza, and various tupperware with sticky notes on it. One note read: "Touch this and die. — Natasha", another read "Property of Tony Stark", and finally one that read "Steve, 25/05/17, 16:00". Wow, Natasha Romanoff and Steve Rogers are here, Peter thought to himself.

He closed the fridge door and decided to search the pantry instead. He found a box of cereal. He poured the fruit loops into a bowl, along with some milk from the fridge. He sat on the kitchen counter as he ate, looking around the huge, dark kitchen. If only Aunt May could see this...

After he was done, he placed the bowl in the sink. As he turned the water on to wash the bowl, a small robotic arm with a sponge on the end, came out from the bottom of the sink and began scrubbing away at the bowl while another arm held the plate under the stream of water. "Wow, automatic dish washing — nice!" Peter whispered to himself with a huge smile on his face. Tony stark thinks of everything.

--

Peter roamed the rest of the building, seeing if he remembered all the codes, and exploring the huge rooms. He was too wired to sleep and finally decided to go to the common room.

He took the elevator back to the top floor and as the elevator doors opened, he realized that someone had left the lights on. They were set to a low orange glow and soft jazz music was playing.

"Oh shit!" Peter heard Tony's voice from the sofa. Peter turned to look, only to be shocked by what he saw. Tony was sliding out from under a tall, muscular blond man, both of them completely naked, other than a small blanket covering them. Tony tried his best to cover up but there was so much exposed skin that Peter never ever wanted to see in his whole life.

"Oh my god!" Peter turned around, face burning. "I'm so so sorry Mr. Stark," was the only thing that kept coming out of Peter's mouth.

"Uh, can you step outside for a second?" Tony asked, "I'll explain everything in a minute," Peter quickly dove into the elevator, not bothering to turn around. He closed the doors and pressed the button for his floor. What was going on? Was Mr. Stark gay? Who was that man? Wasn't he engaged to Pepper? Am I going to get kicked out? A million thoughts rushed through his head.

The image was burned in his brain. All that muscle, tangled limbs, and glowing light from Tony's arc- reactor. He remembered every terrible detail.

Peter ran to his room and jumped into bed, heart racing.

"Is everything alright Sir, your levels are quite elevated?"

"Shut up, Jarvis!" Peter threw a pillow over his head.

--

Peter woke up as the sunlight came in through the window and hit his face. He rubbed his eyes and looked around the room. Tony had never come looking for him last night and honestly Peter was glad. It would have been the most awkward conversation of his life. Maybe he imagined it all, he wondered as he sat up in bed. Maybe it was just a strange nightmare.

He grabbed the bag with his toiletries, making a mental note to unpack his bags later, and snuck out his room and down the hall to the bathroom. Of course, it was huge, like everything else in the house. The shower head had like 100+ options and Peter just picked the most basic type of stream — not in the mood to get fancy.

After he was showered and dressed, he went down into the kitchen, hoping to God that everyone was still asleep. He put the code in and opened the door, only to be greeted with a room full of hello's. Great.

"Hey, remember me!" Rhodey, wrapped an arm around Peter while taking a bite of his toast. "So good to see you, man!"

"Yeah, good to see you again!" Peter gave a sheepish smile.

"Welcome Peter!" Vision was cooking something on the stove-top. He was wearing normal black slacks and a sweater vest, no super hero cape or anything like that in sight. Wanda was at his side, hair tied back and wearing a dark lipstick.

"Nice to see you again Peter," She greeted him in a thick accent. "Last time we met, we were trying to kill each other." She was referring to the battle between the heroes a year back. She smiled before bringing a spoon up to taste the food Vision was cooking.  

"Nice to see you all again," Peter smiled awkwardly. His stomach growled. "What's for breakfast?"

"Omelettes and toast," Rhodey answered as he took his arm off Peter. "You're welcomed to join us." Peter took a seat on the bar stool next to the kitchen counter.

"Are there more Avengers coming down for breakfast?" Peter asked as Wanda placed an omelette in front of him. He grabbed a fork and eagerly started eating.

"No, Natasha usually sleeps in," Vision explained.

"She says she needs her beauty rest," Rhodey joked as he dug into his own omelette.

"Everyone else is out of state as of now, except for Tony and Steve," Wanda chimed in.

Peter dropped his fork, mid-chew, at his instance realization. STEVE.

"Is everything ok, Peter?" Wanda asked.

The man that was with Tony last night had blond hair.... the only blond-haired person in this building...no it couldn't be....there's no way...they HATE each other--

"Good morning everyone, smells great!" A loud voice boomed in from behind Peter.

"Mornin' Cap!" Rhodey called out.

Peter's eyes were wide as he slowly turned around to face him. Steve Rogers was standing right next to him. He was over 6 feet tall, towering over Peter, muscles threatening to rip through his tiny white shirt. Peter gulped. They had not seen each other since the battle a year back....

"Nice to see you again, Pete," Steve placed a firm hand on Peter's shoulder. "I think we need to talk."

--

A/N:

Part II coming soon.

[phoenixfireartists]

Backstory

The rain poured down outside the stasis pod, and a silver haired woman in red and purple armor shines a flashlight at a young girl with raven black hair and silver eyes. The girl walks out of the pod and soon tumbles out, only for the woman to catch her. She then asks her for their name, the silver-haired woman saying her name was Elma. The girl then stated her’s. But before all this and the girl meeting Elma, she lived a completely different life, a story of passion, regret, and redemption. This is Athena’s backstory

---------- 

16 March 2037 AD

A day that no one would forget. It was a bright and sunny day in London, England. The contrast from the once dull grey skies was a nice change as a new life was brought into the world. A girl, with dazzling green eyes, was born to Marianne Midorikawa and Kristopher Arthur Thea. This girl was given a name: Athena Hikari Thea. 

From the beginning of her life, Athena seemed that she was destined for greatness. She had good grades, a loving family, and was talented. She was considered a prodigy among the other kids in her school, which lead to a lot of bullying by her peers and, meaning that she never had that many friends. And those that were her “friends” were just using her to get good grades and go to all these special functions. 

But her life wasn’t all that bad. She had her younger sister, Nyx, to be with all the time, and Athena treated her well with care. Nyx had her own thing, and Athena respected that, even if the two of them managed to bicker sometimes. The Thea family was probably the closest thing to a quote-unquote “perfect family” to many people and friends. But that always wasn’t the case.

You see, Athena’s parents were prepping and crafting her into a vessel for potential gods to use. Keeping the secret that their daughter was becoming something much more than human, Marianne and Kristopher used Athena as a way to possibly benefit humanity. Many factors were taken into consideration when they started to make Athena a vessel, such as health and mental risks that come with the process of becoming a vessel. 

For about ten years, the Theas lived outside the city of London, from 2037 to 2047. In 2047, Kristopher told his family that they had to move to America in order to keep up to date on everything going on with Project Okami. 

For a quick overview of the project, Project Okami was once a project in which the idea of putting actual humans in stasis was starting to be risky. With mims now being the solution to putting humanity forward, the project then turned towards looking for other methods of preserving humanity. This included the possibility of divine intervention and making vessels.

For about two years, things seemed fine for the Theas as they now lived in the northern part of California, near the Redwoods. However, on her twelfth birthday, Athena discovered the truth of what her parents were doing, having found a file that was left lying on the coffee table that had her name and everything her parents had done to her for the past twelve years recorded onto the file. Her world turned upside down that day. And she did what any tween would do if they found out about a secret that wasn’t meant for them to hear.

She ran from home and into the forest. Her parents searched for her for over a week until they found her near a creek cold, covered in scrapes and cuts, and more than likely starving. Having seen her parents again made Athena feel guilty for running away, for having worried them so much. But she was still mad at them for having kept what she was becoming a secret for so long. But she forgave them, nonetheless. Things went back to normal after that. 

Then came a day where Athena’s hellish days was about to begin.

4 July, 2049 AD. Athena and her parents were on their way to a quick fireworks ceremony when a group of men ambushed them and knocked them out cold. The next thing Athena knew, she had her hands tied behind her back and was at a construction site that wasn’t in use. It wasn’t long until an old friend of the Theas, Marcus Tamashi, showed up, holding a pistol in his hand.

The next thing Athena saw was the gun barrel pointed to her head. She was scared out of her wits, shaking like a leaf as she saw the barrel of the pistol aimed at her head. Soon came the pleas to spare her, to save her. Marcus then removed the barrel from her head. All seemed peaceful finally...

Then two shots rang out.

Athena watched in horror as her parents were shot at point blank range, blood splattering along the ground and the I-beams that were in place. Athena screamed and lashed out, trying to get out of the men’s grips while she still could and run. She couldn’t, and the next thing she knew was that she was hit with the butt end of the pistol and blacked out.

When she came to, she was in the facility her parents worked at, only this time she was in one of the many containment cells that housed the vessels her parents were working on. But Athena remembers that they used to roam around the facility and chatted out in the open, and there were no sort of containment cells when she went with her parents here.

It didn’t take long for her to realize that a certain someone had taken the project and facility by force. A man by the name of Alexis Manchester.

For a brief synopsis of Alexis, he ran Manchester Inc., a company that was profiting off of everything that dealt with the Coalition government and with ECP. He often went to drastic measures to get what he wanted: blackmailing, swindling, and of course, murder. The Okami Project was the next thing on his hit list, and at long last, he finally got it.

Anyway, Alexis soon turned the project that Athena’s parents had worked so long on into something that he and others desired: a super soldier that had the ability to house a god. And Alexis saw Athena as the prime subject for it all. But, in order to keep her status as a vessel, he needed the original source material, and Athena was the closest thing he was going to get in terms of source material for their notes. He also knew she wasn’t going to cooperate with anyone, but he thought that if she befriended someone, she might spill the beans.

Alexis had a son named Xander, and he was one who knew how to get his way with girls. Athena was no exception to him, for she quickly fell for his charms and grace. Athena soon fell in love with him and she told him everything she knew about her parent’s research. Xander then told his father what she would tell him and Alexis would quickly write them down. 

When she was thirteen, Athena and Xander were pitted against one another in a fight for “scientific purposes”. In reality, Athena had done her duty and would now be executed on the spot by Xander himself. All went well, and soon Athena found herself pinned to the ground by Xander’s foot, a pistol in his hand. He then proceeded to taunt her, told her that he didn’t really love her, that he only used her to get the information his father needed out of her. 

That made something snap inside Athena and she was not happy with this turn of events. In some way, possibly an adrenaline rush and a surge of anger and rage, she managed to get up before Xander could pull the trigger and then proceeded to stab him in the chest. Athena was at first satisfied with getting rid of him, but once she came back to her senses, she immediately regretted it all. This caused her to become for socially awkward and more rebellious. She didn’t want to become someone she didn’t want to be.

Years passed, and with each year that went by, Athena’s mental state deteriorated little by little. When it was at an adequate level, according to Alexis at least, Alexis and his team had finally decided that it was time to commence with her becoming the thing he desired most. She was only fifteen when the procedure to make her the thing he desired most in everything he had desired to achieve. 

Everything was going well until something happened during the procedure. Athena soon passed out during it and was quickly taken into medical ward of the facility. In critical condition, a team of doctors and nurses tried to resuscitate her, but to no avail. She had managed to flat line and was declared dead that day. 4 July 2052, the anniversary of her parent’s death.

But, in reality, she wasn’t really dead. Of course, her heart stopped, but her consciousness was somehow still there in a sort of limbo. In this limbo, she received a gift, one that she would use to escape from the place she considered a prison. She was gifted with the ability to summon the myths of old to help her and aid her in combat situations. After that, she awoke in the room that she was brought into and saw that Marcus was there, along with a woman named Charlotte. Charlotte was the one who brought meals to the people in the containment cells and was the one who monitored their conditions.

Anyway, Athena stirred awake and saw both Marcus and Charlotte in the room, both of which were surprised to see her alive. Athena proceeded to tell them what happened and showed them what she was now capable of doing. Surprised by this, Marcus thought that her new ability would be the key to having Athena escape.

However, this new ability had a bit of baggage to it. It costed her the color of her eyes, changing them from their once dazzling green to the metallic silver ones she now has. This made her anger boil more and more. All the years that Athena had been placed under the knife had now reached its climax. All she wanted now was Alexis dead and gone.

The next two years would be the hardest Athena would ever endure. Alexis, having found out that Athena was still alive, cranked up the intensity on all testing procedures with her. He made her life a living hell. He had her body abused, cut and scraped over and over and over, leaving many scars on her body. She soon became self-conscious about how her body now looked, hiding the scars that now covered her whole body.

But that hell didn’t last long. On March 19, 2054, just days after her seventeenth birthday, she was finally free. Alexis had wanted to save his son, so he tried to revive him by using the same process that Athena went through, only this time there was some...slightly different results. The result was a deformed, unimaginable monstrosity created to combat any living organism. The alarms sounded and Charlotte escorted Athena out of her containment cell and into the hallways of the facility. Alexis was in one of the testing rooms, the boy once known as his son approaching him with some primal instinct to kill. Next thing that happened was Alexis being stabbed by an appendage emitting from its being.

Xander then set his sights on Athena. Charlotte shoved her out of the way before getting stabbed, sacrificing her life to save Athena’s. The next thing that happened was something unexpected. All that Athena remembers was seeing white and then waking up in an actual bed. Marcus had found her on the floor, unconscious, and brought her to his home. He then explained everything. Her parents we’re dead; he only faked their deaths so that they wouldn’t be tracked by Alexis anymore. Her sister was in a magnet school, studying robotics. And they were in his home, waiting for her to come back to.

And when Athena saw her family again, she couldn’t help but cry tears of joy.

The next few months after were a blur. Marcus gave up his spot for Athena, stating that she deserved to start over somewhere and regain control of her life. Then on July 2054, all hell broke loose and Earth was destroyed. Athena and her family escaped on the White Whale, traveling for two years before the Xenos came and destroyed the White Whale. Athena and her sister were the first of the family to enter the stasis pods. Kristopher told them that they would be reunited once again once they were all found. He activated the stasis pods and down the girls went. 

But that wasn’t the end for Athena. Something happened while she was falling. The merging of a vessel and a god. Ceres was her name, the Goddess of Mira. She was a soul who had lost her real body long ago and now needed a vessel in order to explore the world. Athena’s presence resonated with Ceres, and soon, their two souls merged. Athena felt a sort of power envelop her body and she was soon knocked out afterwards. This caused her to lose most of memory, save for her name and a memory of her mother telling her to run away before she was shot by Marcus. Elma found her, and Athena’s life on Mira would soon begin...

______________________________________________________________ But still, questions remain. What happened to Athena that day she earned her silver eyes? Why was it that she was suited for Ceres? What made her earn her name “The Tactical Goddess”? Well, guess you’ll just have to wait and see.

--------

I really hope you all enjoyed learning about Athena before she came to Mira. The reason for her silver eyes will come soon, but for that I need to explain my own Xeno species that I just started to make. But I really hope you all enjoyed. Next time it will be either Athena’s interactions with the main party members in the game or the ones she’s met in RPverse. We’ll see.